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half-oz-eddie · 4 months

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Abuse, violence tw

Steve was in his living room enjoying a quiet, uneventful night.

Yes, uneventful. His favorite sort of night, these days. Exactly 3 months ago, the nightmare which was the Mind Flayer had plagued the city, taking dozens of people's lives along with it.

Steve still had a terrible ringing in his ears, neglecting the probably needed medical attention as usual.

As he enjoyed some nightly news and KFC, he heard a thump coming from upstairs.

He was home alone, as he was most nights.

Steve turned down the TV, startled when he'd heard the thumping again.

He didn't know what to expect. In a town like Hawkins, a town with monsters and alternate dimensions, that sound could be anything.

Steve grabbed one of his dad's golf clubs and slowly ascended the steps. He heard the sound of his window slowly sliding shut as he reached the top of the steps.

He crept to his room and swung the door open, gasping at the sight, nearly swinging his golf club.

"Wait wait wait!" A familiar voice exclaimed in the darkness.

Steve slowly lowered the club. "...Hargrove?" He shook his head. "No way, we watched you die."

"I didn't die. I woke up in the morgue and some...guys and a lady in suits came right away and—and they sedated me and brought me to some lab to...study me. They kept running all these tests on me and shocking me until I would flatline."

"So...what you can't die?"

"I dunno, maybe I can. But I don't wanna die."

"I just..." Steve shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get it. I-I watched you...take a tentacle through the chest. How are you alive?"

"Because whatever that...dark shadow thing did to me...it changed my body. My...organs can like...regenerate."

"That's...uh...that's...pretty cool."

"I dunno, whatever, I guess. Look, I'm sorry about before. About everything. The fight, being an asshole, trying to kill everyone—"

"The last part wasn't your fault, but I'll forgive you for everything else." Steve finally disarmed himself and set the golf club on his bed.

"So, uh..."

There was a loud urgent banging on the door. They looked at one another with wide eyes.

"Do they have a tracker on you?"

"I ditched it before I came here."

"Why exactly did you come here?"

"Because no one would expect me to come here."

The banging could be heard once more.

"Please, Harrington. Please don't tell anyone I'm here. I'm begging you."

Steve left his room without another word, descending the steps.

"Alright, alright, I'm comin'!" He shouted before swinging the door open. "Can I help you?"

"Hello again, Mr. Harrington. Do you remember me?"

"Yeah, sure. How can I help you, agents?"

"A...subject escaped from our lab. He may or may not have disguised himself as Billy Hargrove, the young man who was under the influe—"

"I know who he is. So there's some...thing shapeshifting as Billy?"

"That's correct. If you have any information about the subject's whereabouts, we need you to tell us."

"Did you check Max's house?"

"Of course."

If there was anything Steve learned from all this, it was not to trust the government, especially after how they tried to cover up Will's disappearance.

"Well, you're at the wrong place. Billy and I hated each other. There's no way he, or something disguised as him would think I'd even let him in the door."

The agent nodded. "Understandable. But if you do encounter the subject, do not engage." He held out a card. "Call us immediately."

"Yeah, sure thing. G'night." He waited until the agents piled into their cars and drove away before making his way to the steps, stopping mid-step.

What if what they said was true?

He shook the thought away. As if he'd trust those agents.

But, that didn't stop him from wondering about it. What if this shapeshifter knew Billy hated Steve and saw him as an easy mark to kill?

Maybe he was overthinking it.

He returned upstairs, finding Billy cowering beneath his desk.

"You can come out now."

Billy slowly crawled out. "Are they gone?"

"Yep. I told them they came to the wrong place because you'd never come here."

"That's exactly why I'm here. I'm so glad I was able to trust you."

"But can I trust you?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"If you're the real Billy, do you remember what you said to me in the shower at school that one time?"

"When I told you there're plenty of bitches in the sea and I'd be—"

"Sure to leave me some, yeah." Steve chuckled. "You really got under my skin."

"That was kinda the point."

"So uh...what are you gonna do now?"

"Can I stay here?'

Steve's eyes widened. "Here?!"

"Just for tonight. I swear I'll be gone before sunrise."

Steve reached over and flipped his light switch.

"Jesus..." He whispered to himself in disbelief.

In the bedroom lighting, he was able to see the marks that covered Billy's shirtless body, and the oversized collar around his neck. He couldn't understand how he was able to make it to his house in the cold in only a pair of shorts, with that big contraption around his neck.

"What...is that thing?" Steve asked, slowly approaching.

"It's a shock collar. Like they put on fucking animals. I guess they saw me as an animal too."

"Can you take it off?"

"No, it's...screwed on."

"I—stay here. I'll take it off you."

Steve raced to his garage and grabbed the tool kit. He approached Billy with a screwdriver in hand, pitying him as he backed further into the corner.

"It's alright, man. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna get that contraption off of you."

Billy stepped out of the corner, allowing Steve to slowly unscrew the collar, revealing a neck covered in nicks and burns.

"You...want a shower? Maybe some food?"

"Please. I haven't eaten in months."

"What?"

"I've just been sustained with a fucking IV." He showed Steve the bruising from the ripped out IV.

"Go. Use the shower. I'll bring something upstairs for you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead. It's down the hall to the left."

"Thanks."

Steve watched as Billy disappeared down the hall and into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

He went back downstairs, grabbed the rest of his food and split it into 2 plates, before deciding maybe Billy should have it all and he can have a bowl of cereal if he got hungry again.

Steve brought the plate upstairs and grabbed some clothes from his dresser, then knocked on the bathroom door.

"It's just me." He called out. "Got some clothes here for you."

Billy turned the shower off and opened the door, gently grasping the clothes.

"Food's in my room when you're ready."

Billy nodded, gently closing the door.

Steve sat at his desk, sighing to himself. He loudly groaned when he heard his phone ringing downstairs.

"How many times am I gonna have to walk up and down these goddamn stairs?" He mumbled to himself.

"Hello?"

"Steve? Dude, did you hear?!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Yeah, I heard."

"Is it really a shapeshifter? Or is it actually Billy?"

"I dunno, Dustin, but I don't think we should talk about this over the phone. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow after school."

"Yeah—okay, yeah! Can you pick me up from school?"

Steve sighed. "Sure thing, buddy."

"Cool, later Steve!"

Steve hung up the phone, sighing to himself before returning upstairs to find Billy wolfing down the food, spilling crumbs all over his bed.

"Oh, sorry...did you want some?"

"No, I uh...I already ate."

Billy proceeded to wolf down his food, and Steve just sat there, with so many questions in his mind.

"That was good. Thanks, pretty boy. Want me to wash my dish—"

"No. It-it's fine. You should probably stay up here. I'll go sleep on the couch—"

"No! I-I mean...I don't wanna put you out. I should—I should sleep on the floor."

"In your condition? I can't let you do that." Steve shook his head in contest.

"I just..." Billy sighed. "I don't want to be alone."

Steve looked into Billy's frightened eyes. "They really hurt you in that lab, huh?"

Billy nodded.

This wasn't the Billy steve once knew, but he wasn't a shapeshifter, or a clone, or whatever bullshit the government agents tried to feed him. This was the real Billy. A scared young guy who had been abused relentlessly.

"I'll stay with you tonight. We can listen to the radio until we fall asleep, yeah?"

"You don't think they'll come back, do you?"

"Those agents? No..." Steve paused. "Probably not."

Billy disappointedly sighed.

"I could...stay awake. If it'll help you sleep easier." Steve suggsted.

"I don't want you to do that either. Let's just...sleep. However much we can."

Billy huddled close to the wall while Steve turned on the radio on low volume then crawled into the bed. He placed a pillow between himself and Billy.

This is so weird. Steve thought as he stared at Billy. He watched the pitiful mess sleep peacefully on the left side of his bed.

When Billy rolled over and draped his arm over Steve's shoulder, he initially thought to move it, but, he chose not to. Instead, he reached over and caressed his cheek, a tender moment shared between Billy and the only person who knew he was still alive.

#this has been sitting in my drafts for 6 months #take it #ivy.doc #caliscoops.doc

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hamilando · 7 months

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ੈ✩‧₊ One Step ੈ✩‧₊

Pairing : Seunghan x Gn! Reader

Genre : Idol au, Angst

Song : Happier than ever ( rock version) by Billie Eilish

TW: Depression, cyber bullying, idol life , suide

A/N : This is a very sensitive fic, I wrote this because all that's happening with Seunghan is absolutely not fair, not only him but other idols also suffer. We need to realise they are also human and it's their first time living too.

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

The car horns were blaring, the wind forcing the boy to keep his eyes open. Standing on top of the roof edge, his eyes blurred, with tears or with regret, he could not tell. He may have made mistakes in the past, but he wondered how much he could take before he could give up.

His ideal dream of debuting in an idol group, discovering the wonders of the world while touring and singing his lungs out had been reduced to an hope which was being extinguished by some jealous friends of his on the Internet. Seunghan debuted as a member of RIIZE, a group under the biggest entertainment in South Korea, fame finding them before they could even step out of the basement.

It scared him, how he was not afraid to die, rather afraid of being wrong in front of some users on the internet.

The life he sacrificed everything for, snatched away because he had a few moments of joy, but now he was fighting for the courage to live than kill himself. He felt broken, like that last piece in a puzzle that was not fitting. He was only human, 'it was your fault' ringing inside his head. He brought disgrace to his group, he brought disgrace to his family, all would be gone if he took a step. One step to his freedom, one step to his new life, one step to happiness.

"Does it ever stop hurting?"

Seunghan turned around and saw a person's shadow, but the tears flowing made it difficult to make out who it was.

"Of course it does, once the blood seeps out." His voice quavered.

"Go ahead and leave then, everyone does."

"They hated me in life, maybe they could love in death."

"It's worth giving a try to relive."

"Reliving where I don't have to starve myself to sing, carve my name in trophies to redeem myself."

"You failed in living, what makes you think you will succeed in dying."

"I kept running behind success, let this fall make it run after me."

Seunghan could feel a smile creep on his face, the feel of ending it all making the adrenaline rush in his body, the same adrenaline feeling he got before his first ever debut stage. Oh, but look at irony, a smile starting the movie, an even bigger smile to finish the movie. A movie well criticised by those who could never feel the making of it.

"If all you had to do was run, you should have joined a marathon team."

"At least there I would run towards my goal and not away from it."

The person took a few steps forward, hands in pocket due to the cold wind blowing, Seunghan just staring at the person in front of him.

"Is this you speaking or the adrenaline in you speaking because you are standing on the edge?"

Seunghan scoffed at the question, he was considering taking his life right here and this person was taking it as a joke,

"Of course it's me, I won't be standing here because of a dare."

"Well, then I dare you, come down the edge and say you want to jump off, look me in the eyes and say you want to jump off."

"I can say all that from right here."

"I know you can, but just come down once."

"Once you reach the top, it's difficult to come down"

"Then don't look down, look at me, I am here for you."

"I am glad, but it's a little late to be here for me."

Talking made it all the tougher for Seunghan to clear his mind. With a last glance at the person in front of him, he turned facing the city lights and said with confidence,

"Why would I come down when right now I feel the happiest man on top of the world?"

With that he took the step, deaf to the screams of the person behind him, deaf to the car horns blaring, deaf to the screams of his fans on debut, deaf to affections of his parents, deaf to the laughter of his members,

deaf to the little voice in his brain saying "one more chance was all that was needed."

#riize imagines #riize #riize x reader #riize x y/n #riize x male reader #riize angst #kpop x reader #kpop #kpop angst #i support you seunghan #riize seunghan #seunghan #riize is 7 #seunghan x reader

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blackwolfstabs · 1 month

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SHADOW

Billy reflects on his only daughter and how blood can look so tragic yet so beautiful in the dark light of a serial killer's love.

fandom: Scream characters: Billy Loomis, Sam Carpenter, Christina Carpenter (mentioned), Mr. Carpenter (mentioned), & Tara Carpenter (mentioned) content: AU // She's Somebody's Daughter

a/n: shoutout to my billy, who inspired me to write this AU: @alphawolfstabs - love you lots billy! thank you for always supporting and inspiring me 🩶🩶🩶 inspired by Shadow | Austin Mahone

Being the bad boy with a difficult home life was one of the most misleading things in both observing and experiencing. It was easy. It was simple. At least, this was true for those observing. It was a problem that had logical causes and predictable solutions. However, from the boy experiencing it, things weren’t that clear. It wasn’t easy or simple. It was a game.

And if you looked closely, it was a game that the boy would come to know well. A painful, torturous game that was much easier to play on other people, especially when they don’t know who you are. It was all about questions, a quiz, one could say. Or a trivia…

Now, the questions weren’t complicated. They were actually very simple, but only when they were placed into the right hands. Only when they were asked to someone with a clear head. Emotions are a dangerous element to gamble with. They are what determines how the game will end. Those who have control over everything going on, inside and outside of themselves are very victorious. Lucky is the right word for it. But when you look through the lens of someone who’s preoccupied—whether it be by confusion, fear, anxiety, a loss of control—everything turns around. And those people do reckless things for unexplainable reasons that predict irreversible consequences.

The result? Take it from anyone who’s been burned with tragedy. It will always… always be at the cost of someone’s life. More times than not, it’s oneself. But then there are those rare cases when it’s someone else… someone you had no idea would even take any kind of blame for what you did. And you never know until it’s too late…

It was from a mirror. It was always from a mirror that Billy had the opportunity to have any sort of interaction, or connection, or bond, or whatever it was called with Sam. He never thought he’d ever have a daughter. He never thought he’d have a kid, period. Who would? He wasn’t that type. However, Christina was, and did she fall hard for him. It wasn’t a long relationship, but it escalated quickly. Ever since his mother left, Billy never thought twice about shit. Especially about shit like that. He was young, wild, and reckless. That’s all there was to it. But when he got that 2 AM phone call, and Christina was on the other line, it was the first time in years that he stopped to think for a second.

“I’m pregnant.”

They both knew he was the donor, but he was 17 and already had a plan. And it didn’t involve Christina or a daughter. So, he told her to give “it” up. Get rid of “it”. Then, he got himself killed before he found out she never did give anything away.

Now word had it that 13 years down the road, Christina began to resent their daughter, Samantha, and it was all because of him. It was controversial, of course, because honestly… How couldn’t it be?

Everything fell apart the night she found out that Billy Loomis was her father, her biological father. After 13 years of seeing Christina’s husband, her baby sister’s father, Mr. Carpenter, as her father—as her dad—it was no surprise that her world was turned upside down. It wasn’t her fault. Yet Christina would say it was, because she knew better than to go snooping where she wasn’t supposed to be.

That was the Loomis in her. And that was what made her who she was. It was what made her a survivor.

Samantha Carpenter would always be Samantha Carpenter. There was no telling her otherwise. It was written on her birth certificate and tattooed on every memory she ever had, before and after she found out the truth.

But through all those years, and even now, Billy had been watching. That was the one thing that he would thank death for… he got to be a part of his daughter’s life. Even when she didn’t like him, even when she couldn’t stand it, even when he teased her and critiqued her and forced her to face the bloodied card she’d been dealt—the one that was stained with the blood of a killer.

Even through everything, Sam was Billy’s daughter. She was his. And even though he was compatible with the majority opinion of him not being the type of guy…

He loved her.

He loved her a lot. No matter what his background was, Sam brought a light into the abyss of the afterlife. He never had the chance to be there for her like a father could’ve and should’ve been, but the idea always stayed in the back of his head. Because in the years before she knew about him and about herself, he was not a reflection…

He was a shadow.

He had seen her be a kid, a little girl ducking into the safety of another man that had no idea just how lucky he was to have someone like her call him “dad.” And while he’d never admit it, the reality of that hurt Billy over time.

He had watched her since the day she was born. Every time she walked into a room, he was there. Every time she turned out the light at night, he was there. Every mirror she glanced in or window she looked out of, he was there, even before her hallucinations began.

He had to say, it was strange to watch someone that was half of him live. It was strange in a way that started to restore the emotion in him but only to an extent. He wanted to be more to her than what he was, but he didn’t know how to be. That’s why he was so hard on her when things started to go south, especially when she was brought back to Woodsboro. When she went to New York, it was the same thing, however, he could feel that they were more than just estranged in the realities of living and dead. And so, he put a name on it: Team Loomis. His words were no less than a mentor’s, but regardless of that, he wanted to be better. Truly, he did. Because in everything she did, he saw someone with a thrill for survival that left him knowing it was bred from himself.

But he also saw everything he missed out on, everything that should’ve been him had life meant to be something else—had he meant to be someone else.

All the times Sam had called Mr. Carpenter “dad” or “daddy”. All the times she had run to him when she was scared or reached for him when she needed help. When she’d cry, and he’d held her. When she’d fallen, and he’d picked her up. When he'd make her smile and laugh, even on her bad days. As she'd gotten older, he’d tell her he was proud of her, and he’d still kiss her goodnight like it was the first night... even after so much time.

And then she found out the truth. And she accidentally told him straight to his face, even though she didn't know he was standing right behind her. That little girl and her daddy—that bond that had been built up on a fantasy sworn to be reality—was shattered. Just like that.

And she had watched him walk out that door that night, thinking for years-on-end afterwards that it was her fault. That she was the reason he left.

But the real reason was on the wall, a shadow that could only observe in silence like he’d done since the dawn of her time. At that moment, Billy never knew if it was too soon or too late to be there for her. He didn’t know how to comfort her. How could he?

Only his shadow knew how he felt about her. Only his shadow went where he dreamed of her and him.

He was only a shadow, until he wasn’t…

—

All of those thoughts hit Billy as he watched Sam lay nearly lifelessly on the cold, blood-splattered floor, her back to him and her breathing light and raspy. Her clothing was ripped and torn apart, blood smeared over her face and skin, bruises spotted her body, her hair was matted with sweat and stuck to her glistening complexion.

This was the same girl he'd watched grow up.

She didn’t deserve the burden life dealt her because of him and Christina, but she carried it anyway. She’d carry anything, if it meant keeping the ones she loved safe. What a tragedy... but also so very beautiful.

She was beautiful. She was powerful. She was dangerous. She was Billy Loomis’s daughter.

And Billy felt such a strong sense of paternal instinct, desire, and longing as he looked at her now.

That was his baby girl.

“Sam…” he said her name loud enough for her to hear, but gentle enough for her to feel comforted.

At first, Sam didn’t move, seeming too exhausted and beat to do anything else but lie so weakly on her side. But then she did.

Billy didn’t expect her to try and get up, but she did. He wanted to go to her, but he was frozen as watched her struggle, her arms shaking violently, while she pulled herself to her knees. A hoarse grunt that was part-whimper left her lips as she forced herself to her feet. Her face lifted ever so slightly towards him and…

She looked exhausted, like seeing him was the one thing she wanted more than anything—like she had felt trapped and alone, victorious yet defeated in this burning place. She nearly stumbled as she started towards him, finding her limp in the pain that was scourging through her.

It was slow, but it was strong in comparison to the desperate need her father knew she had to just fall and not get up. But she didn’t. She dragged herself to him with everything she had, until she got close enough for him to hold his arms out, and she collapsed into them. Billy dropped with her as she fell to the ground again, holding her close and pulling her into him. He felt her shudder and grab his guarding arm, like she was afraid he was going to disappear. His fingers combed through her hair, and he felt tears touch the forearm that was held against her cheek.

She moaned in pain, digging her nails into him.

That’s when he spoke to her. “Good job, Sam… you did so good.” He wished he could say all these things, all these words that she’d never heard from him—that she should’ve heard from him—but when he saw her bare torso convulse to have blood flood out of the gash in her side, that sealed his lips.

But she still held onto him…

Just like she had held onto Mr. Carpenter for years.

“It’s over…” Billy whispered, then bowed to place a tender kiss on her head. “Just rest now…”

When the paramedics rushed in, Samantha Carpenter was alone.

But Billy Loomis’s shadow never left.

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kteezy997 · 11 months

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The Other Man - Part Nine//t.c.

warnings: cursing, toxic ex behavior, mention of physical violence, mention of bruises and blood, gun violence ((mature 18+ readers only))

You didn't hear from Timmy for a couple of days. It felt like deja vu from the game night with Billy. Neither event had been your fault or Timmy's, but both of them had separated you.

You had returned to work and tried to focus on that, but Billy hadn't stopped trying to contact you. You completely ignored him, but he still didn't let up. You blocked his number and hoped that would be the ending of Billy's existence in your life. You did worry that he might find you or show up at the house. You didn't know what would happen if that occurred. You didn't know what he wanted to do or what he was capable of.

"y/n, you've got a phone call." your coworker called out to you.

"Oh," you said, terrified that it might be your ex-husband on the line, "is it a man?"

"No, it's some lady."

"Okay?" you took the work phone from them and put it to your ear, wondering who it could be. "Hello?"

"Y/n? This is Amelia."

"Amelia? Why are you calling my workplace?"

"I didn't have your cell number or any other way to contact you, sorry. I just...wanted to know if we could talk?"

You sat down at a desk, prepared to hear anything that this woman had to say. This conversation could alter your entire life. There was a possibility that you'd be a stepmother for the rest of your life. "Sure." you said.

"Oh, great." her voice sounded sad, but she came across as genuine, " I just wanna start out by saying that I'm so sorry for the other night: intruding like I did. Timmy was right, he made no promises to me, he never showed any romantic interest in me. It was all on my end. I feel so stupid about it all now."

"I understand. You seemed to really care for him. Our feelings can make us do some crazy things." you responded. You wanted to come out and say something along the lines of 'Bitch are you really pregnant? Is it even Timmy's?' But you didn't want to press the issue. You decided to let her give you information at her own pace so she wouldn't hold anything back.

"Yeah, it really does. About that: I have to admit something awful to you."

Your heart sank. She could say anything in the world, and it had the power to determine what your future would look like. You were so afraid that she would take Timmy away from you, whether he was willing or not.

"What is it?" you asked her, nearly trembling.

You heard her gulp through the phone. It was obvious that she was nervous. "I lied about the pregnancy. The ultrasound I showed Timothee was a copy of my sister's. She's having a baby, I'm not."

"Are you fucking crazy?" you blurted out, feeling the blood pumping through your veins. You didn't feel any relief, not yet.

"Yes, in that moment, I was." she admitted, "It doesn't make it right, but I was in love with him. I was out of my mind in love and all I could think about was getting him to love me back. I thought that if I told him I was going to have his baby, he'd want to be with me."

You sighed. This woman was mad. But that is what love can do to people. They can act out in ways that they normally would not. Hell, love had made you cheat on your husband. Perhaps Amelia suffered from this particular madness. She wasn't herself when she told her lie. Oh, your poor Timmy.

"Anyway, um, I won't go on about that anymore. I won't waste your time any longer than needed. So, Timmy has gone to talk to the PR teams. I told him we can just cancel the whole contract. I told him everything and he wants nothing to do with me, and I definitely don't blame him. So, I'm giving it all up, the whole fake relationship. I think he's in love with you anyways."

"Okay. Thank you for calling me."

"Yeah, of course. I just wanted you to know the truth. And I want Timmy to be happy. I'm such a bad person for what I just put him through." Amelia's voice broke.

"Hey, Amelia, you're not a bad person." You couldn't help but empathize with her. You yourself were no saint. Amelia deserved the hurt she was feeling, and she deserved to lose the friendship she had with Timmy, but she wasn't evil, you could tell. "Just...be better. Learn from your mistakes. And take care of yourself, okay?"

She sniffled, "Yeah, thank you, y/n. I can see why he loves you. Goodbye."

"Bye Amelia."

After work, you called Timmy, and it rang several times before it went to voicemail. You figured he was busy, so you left him a voicemail message, telling him to call you as soon as he could and that you missed him.

A couple of hours went by without any word from Timmy. You called him again, and still no answer. You started to worry. Yes, you wanted him to have space, but it still wasn't like him to not answer you after about an hour or so. Two days had gone by since you'd seen him and you now knew the truth about the Amelia situation, so you thought maybe he was ready to let you in.

You decided to go to his place. There was no answer when you knocked. Now you were scared. Did something happen? Did he pick up and leave for some reason? Was your love story over?

Your phone rang and you felt so incredibly relieved seeing Timmy's name flashing on the caller ID.

"Timmy?!" you answered, "Are you okay, baby?"

"Oh hey, baby." you knew that voice, and it was not the voice of the man you loved.

"Billy, what the fuck have you done to him?!"

"Oh, don't worry hon, your fuck buddy is just fine. A little beat up, but nothing too bad. His pretty little face might heal up okay." Billy's voice was chillingly calm when he talked about the harm he'd done.

"God damn it, tell me where the fuck you are right now, asshole!"

"Oh sweetheart, I'm at our happy home. Ya know, the place where you and your boyfriend committed adultery."

"Fuck!" you ran to your car, not even bothering with the seatbelt and sped off to your house. You called the police and told them there was an intruder in your home, and he had your boyfriend as a hostage.

"Timmy!" you yelled as you entered the house, not waiting for the police to get there. You had no idea what kind of shape he was really in, so you had to act fast before it was potentially too late.

"Upstairs, y/n." called out Billy.

You wanted to kill him.

You ran upstairs, finding them in your bedroom. Timmy was bound to a chair, duct tape covering his mouth. You could see bruises on his face and his nose was bleeding. "Billy you son of a bitch!" You could smell some strong body odor and alcohol. There was an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. You could tell that Billy had been on a bender and hadn't showered or stopped drinking for awhile.

"Pretty talk for a whore." he spat the hateful words at you.

It was then that you noticed the gun in his hand. "Shit, Billy, don't do anything you're going to seriously regret. You've bitched me out, you beat him up, so just stop it there. You've gotten your revenge. No need to take it any further." you trembled, tears filling your eyes. You did your best to maintain a soothing voice in an attempt to calm Billy down.

"No, no. You two have sinned. And for that, you should die!" he screamed, breathing heavily.

The cops are coming, you kept thinking to yourself. The cops are coming. Just keep him talking. Just a little longer.

You looked over at Timmy, he was quiet, but groaning softly and it was muffled through the duct tape. Your heart broke seeing him worn down and completely defenseless. What had Billy put him through? And for how long?

Billy then raised the gun, pointing it straight at Timmy.

Timmy clenched his eyes shut.

You cried, "Billy! No! Please don't!"

"Yeah?" he cocked the gun, not moving, "And why not?"

"Billy, it was wrong: what we did." you tried to keep calm, but it didn't really work, your heart was racing, and tears were running down your face. "I know it was. And I'm sorry. But this...this isn't worth it. Timmy is innocent in this. It was all me. I seduced him, I... manipulated him. Please, let him go." You were desperate to keep Timmy alive.

Billy looked at you, and slowly, he started lowering the gun.

"Police!" a voice called, as you heard the front door being knocked down.

"You dumb fucking bitch." Billy's eyes turned lethal as he pointed the gun at you. You saw his finger pull the trigger. Timmy screamed from behind the tape. You dived to the floor, screaming and hearing the gun go off. Once on the floor, you kicked Billy's feet from underneath him, and he fell to the floor. The gun dropped to the floor as well.

The cops came in yelling and restraining Billy. You regained your breath as they took him away in handcuffs and got up frantically to get Timmy freed from his constraints. You ripped the tape off of his mouth.

"Are you alright?!" he asked you, panting, as you untied his hands.

"Yes, I'm good." you quickly freed his ankles, and moved up to hold his face in your hands. "What about you?"

"I've been better, but I'll be okay. I love you." he said, kissing you hard, pulling you into his arms.

"I love you too." you said in between kisses, wrapping your arms around him, feeling most grateful that you were able to do so.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut

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in3rci4 · 6 months

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Can I Get An Angst With All The Boys, Basically They Never Believed The Reader, And They Get In An Argument Because They Thought Reader Drew Over Gwen's Homework ( I Saw It On TikTok ), And Basically In The End Moose Confesses It Was Him, But It's Too Late, After The Reader Said : " I'd Rather Get Kidnapped By The Grabber, Then Stay With You Assholes, You Think Everything's My Fault ", Reader Gets Kidnapped, And Like I Said, Moose Confesses, But It's Too Late, And They Regret It But It's Too Late? Sorry IF It's Too Much To Ask, You Don't Have To Do It If You Don't Want To, But I've Never Seen Someone Do That, So I Would Love What You Comes Up With ❤️❤️

Jsjskskdkdkk this is gonna be interestingly hard to do , but I appreciate that you trust my writing and sent your request , i really needed so I don't slow back 😭🫶

" IF I ONLY I KNEW , THE LAST TIME WOULD BE DIFFERENT "

PROMPT : Reader is confronted by the The Black Phone boys about something they didn't do , and that would be the last time reader would be seen alive before getting kidnapped killed by The Grabber

Characters included : Finney Blake , Gwendolyn Blake , mention of Susan / Suzanne { Gwendolyn's friend } Bruce Yamada , Amy Yamada , Robin Arellano , mention of the two jackass dudes on Gwen's vision about Vance , Vance hopper , Griffin Stagg , Billy Showalter , Buzz , Matt , Patt , Moose ( idk his last name )

Author's note : I'm really sorry if this isn't what you wanted , but I believed that in some cases it would be practical or better to write in different yet similar situations excluding Gwen's direct participation or writing the exact phrase you told me and changing it instead for every character, hope you like it anyway , I really enjoyed writing this 👍✨

WARNINGS ! : ANGST , DOMESTIC VIOLENCE , MENTION OF KIDNAPPING , DEATH , MINOR ABDUCTION , LONG ASS HEADCANONS , BULLYING , UNFAIR SITUATIONSHIP , RACISM , SLUT / FAT SHAMING , EATING DISORDER ¿? , THREATENING , ANIMAL ABUSE / DEATH , GAS LIGHTING ¿? MANIPULATION ¿? HOMOPHOBIA , MENTION OF SUICIDE , NO USE OF Y/N , PLATONIC / GENDER NEUTRAL READER , POSSIBLE SPELLING MISTAKES , VIOLENCE , BLOOD , ETC

FINNEY BLAKE

His little sister is someone that will share everything with him , her celebrity crushes , her latest gossip , her favorite new book , etc , and he would listen everytime even if he didn't care that much about it

But Finney noticed that she was more quiet lately , but Gwenny would always say she was tired , and that's it .

Until one day she confessed his older brother that she had some of her notebooks pages scratched , tore apart and with really awful drawings and messages , some really gruesome to describe a little girl . Finney was of course mad , because did not only Gwen hide something from him , but there's someone messing with his sister that he knows she didn't mess with first

Gwen defended herself saying that she was trying to find who did it but she couldn't do it , until yesterday , when she asked her classmates once again who did it and they said that someone older enter her classroom when her backpack was still there

Suzanne , her best friend , added new information about the situation : She saw you entering to her classroom with color papers rolled up

He knew you from the mathematics class , so when he saw you escaping trough the empty hallways , he followed you , and decided to confront you

" Stop it , I need to talk with you "

You turned around and saw him grabbing tight his backpack shoulder strap

" You need to stop doing those things to my sister , she's only a 6th grader and didn't do anything to you , it's not ok to draw those disgusting things and write that stuff on Gwen's notebooks , you're older than her , you should know that "

On Finney's perspective , he was in front of a kid of his same age that has been bothering his sister not only in a anonymously way , but in a constant way too , trying , no , decided , to make them back off from her

But in your perspective , you woke up and didn't have the opportunity to eat even an apple as a breakfast because your parents started to bark at each other again and then you , when they couldn't find the keys of the car and saw you existing on your house

Who would guess that the only time you entered on a 6th grade classroom was to put some color papers for the kids by your art's teacher orders ?

You obviously got offended , and started to tell your version of the story , you were not only dealing with your family madness once again , but this too ?

When he saw you not backing off and not telling " the truth " he told you to stop playing the innocent / victim card and just accept what you " did"

You couldn't simple just pretend you didn't call slut shaming names to a child .

His insistence , the way he was talking , gas lighting you like your parents did before , triggered something in you that made you started to blurry your vision and just walk away when your tears started to fall down your face

Not exactly aware where you going , you walked away from school , and sat on the edge of the side walk hiding hour face in your arms and legs

That's when you heard a strange voice say

" Why's the river dear child ? Would magic make those tears disappear ? "

2 weeks after that encounter your missing person poster was all over the town .

One of those days once again , Gwen finds in her notebook a bad quality drawing of you dead with a speech bubble that had " It wasn't me" written on it

Finney was ready to walk home side by side with Gwen but she had a serious expression on her face this time , without saying nothing , she takes her notebook and shows the drawing of you to him

The siblings could never look at your photos again without feeling guilty , 3 days after you went missing the unholy trinity bastards of Buzz , Matt and Patt admitted the fault , making them feel stupid for not thinking about them as suspects of it in the first place

Specially Finney , who can't stop thinking that he was the last person that saw you alive , yet that time he made you cry , he made you go away

He was the one that has the fault for your gone , and he has to live with the feeling . All .His . Life .

BRUCE YAMADA

Coming back from chilling on a friend's house Bruce goes upstairs to change clothes on his bedroom but when he was on the hallway of the second floor he hears quiet sobs coming from his little sister's place

Confused , he puts his ear close the door to hear better and knocks at the girl's door , but there was no answer , she continued crying

Slowly , he opened the door of her bedroom , and found his little sister Amy sitting on the floor with her cheeks all wet from so many tears dropping from her eyes . Bruce had to admit that lately he and his sister weren't close like they used to , him being a teenager and stuff

But even then , he sat next to her and rubbed her back asking what happened and why she was so sad , he was expecting the reason to be a broken toy , a nightmare , a heartbroken from her playground crush , anything

Anything... Except that someone of his class was making fun of her and breaking her favorite school notebooks and pencils , the ones she cherished the most , and threatened her to stay quiet ... The little girl being too scared of even mentioning the names of the responsable... Or responsables...

" Don't worry Amy , I will make sure they stop bothering you , I promise "

The next day when the teacher sat down to look over some papers he asked permission to talk with everyone in the classroom about what happened , and find out who did it

" Y'all probably know I have a little sister , Amy , yesterday when I came back home she told me that someone in this class was mocking her in all possible ways and breaking her stuff like favorite notebook or color pencils . If you have a problem with me , I have all the time of the world to solve however you want to , i don't care , but messing with my sister and 6th grader kid ain't right , you're supposed to know better than that , unless y'all cowards that will stay silent and not tell me the truth in the face "

The teacher was too shocked to speak with the sudden serious attitude of the star student and the people sitting on their desks were unsure to speak or react since they didn't want to messed up more and makes things more difficult more than the situation already is

Until a girl said that he should go and tell the same exact thing to you , the " guilty " one , that has been gone the entire class after asking to go to the bathroom and probably knew he was going to find it out

You in the other hand were going about to have a breakdown and didn't want it to be around everybody that categorized you as the " ugly quiet kid " from the back of the classroom , you wanted some time alone , and went to the bathroom , where you cried over those horrible thoughts in your mind until your eyes were to dry to drop more tears

You washed your face and tried to compose yourself to not look " recently sad " and did your regular breathing exercise in these cases . Now done , you went outside the bathroom , and just in a few steps , you saw Bruce

You tried to give a closed lips smile to give the " I'm ok / friendly " facade , but he didn't return the gesture , he was in fact , not as happy and smiley as the usual Bruce , he was .... Different

" You should've know I would find it out sooner or later , when did I did something wrong to you ? What Amy's had to do with this ? Why involved her ? Why mess with her instead of just , I don't know man , tell ME those things ? "

You were confused and disoriented , you couldn't put the pieces together of why Bruce was being this harsh or what he was talking about , all you did was stare

" You're not gonna say something ? You have nothing to say after breaking her stuff , telling her to die , to stop eating and to leave the country where she was born ? To a innocent little girl instead someone of your age ?"

You tried to defend yourself but it was useless , the entire group blamed you to keep the spot away from them from being guilty and nothing could change Bruce's mind about it , after all , if you were innocent , why you went out of the class on the first place ?

You didn't have the energy to keep arguing or to stay while the principal or teacher called your parents and wait for the worse to happen , for something that you didn't do , so you walked out from school and decided to head straight to your best friend's house , your only safe place

But you never got there .

That night after the Yamada's were done eating dinner , Bruce knocked her sister's door , opened when he got Amy's permission and with a smile , he told her

" Hey Amy , I just wanted to tell you that I already told the bad person to stop bothering you and they promised to stop doing it , you don't have to worry anymore "

But the smile soon fade away when Amy's asked her older brother if he told the boyfriend of the girl to stop too

And then he realized what he done ... His mistake ....

That girl was his rival baseball team pitcher's girlfriend , and since they were afraid to put anything up with Bruce due his popularity , they came for Amy instead

He would ride his bike on the way to school hoping to see you again , to apologize and start over , but he never did , he never had the chance , only your missing posters like a painful reminder of who you were are .

ROBIN ARELLANO

He's used to be called all type of names , he's a dark skin hispanic boy living in the 70's after all , although he doesn't let himself be down for it anymore , and instead he learned to be proud of who he is

So when he would see racist slurs on his desks or papers with written messages on it on his backpack , he would only sigh because how tedious it was to clean those from his desk and sometimes laugh at the creativity of some insults

But the anonymous dutch bag didn't only stayed with him , oh no ...

Not surprised at all , it wasn't Finney who would admit having insulting messages written on papers that had a long list of homophobic slurs hided on his backpack , but Gwen , who told him what was going on with his friend

With a mixed feeling of anger and sadness , he only told his buddy that It'll be over as soon as he found who's the coward behind all this , and thanked the girl with candies

It was harder to find the fucker this time , no face , no voice , no nothing , except one thing , their hand writing

He may not be math's smart , but he's for sure an astute dude . When nobody was looking and the teachers were eating lunch , he entered the classroom and started to check one by one the hand writing of Finney's classmates , comparing them with the last " letter " that they left for him

Unlucky you , your hand writing was almost exactly like the one in the paper , and with your name already known , Robin was ready to clarify some stuff with you

On your way to school you heard someone calling your name , and by your surprise , the one calling you was the second toughest kid in school , and that caught the attention of other students walking on the streets . Walking towards you , calm yet with a serious expression Robin said

" You know my friend Finney , right ? Your classmate ? The one that has to deal with your bullshit every fucking day ?"

Oooooh's were heard from the kids and you honestly started to get scared because the situation felt unreal to you

" I'm getting tired of telling this over and over , you know ? Fuck with Finney again .."

He stops , just a few steps from you

" I'll fuck with you . Get it ?"

You couldn't just stay silent so you spoke your yourself

" Excuse me but I don't have any idea of what are you talking about "

For you he only nodded in silent after you talked , in the other hand , it was taking all of Robin's inner strength to not smack your face for pretending to be clueless about this

" Finney had to deal almost A MONTH with your paper shit that has your hand writing on it , so stop pretending you're innocent , cus you ain't "

You still couldn't believe what was going on , the whispers between the crowd that you didn't know when did it formed started to get louder , but your voice was still stucked in your chest that was pumping from the adrenaline

" Don't believe me ? I'll show you "

Suddenly your arm was grabbed and everyone gasped , Robin takes a paper from his Jean's pocket and shows you a paper that has the message " Better kill yourself like your mother did faggot trash " with yes , an identical copy of your hand writing , now how can you explain yourself at this ?

As soon as the young chorus started to scream for " Fight !" you feared the worst , so unintentionally your eyes started to water up and you plead to be left alone , that it was mistake , that it wasn't you

But he didn't believe you , instead , he started to shake you while keeping the paper close to your face

" If I ever saw your hand writing again on this shitty papers I'll make you read every fucking message you wrote after I beat the shit out of you in front of everybody in school , understood ?"

You tried to explain , you tried to make him understand that it wasn't you who did everything that he said

" I said , UNDERSTOOD !?"

Defeated , you nodded , and he let you go with a disgusted expression . Not being able to handle more eyes staring at you , you walked back to your home hoping your parents were still there and didn't went to work yet , so you could at least have a shoulder to cry on

But you never went back home .

1 week before Moose and Robin's fight and 3 after your disappearance another message was found on Finney's notebook

" your cocksucker friend got the wrong one fairy bitch"

Moose got what he deserved right after , but at what costs ?

You were gone , and everytime Robin walks in the street and sees your photo on the missing posters can't stop wondering why he didn't did the right thing and looked further instead of just blaming you

But nothing that he has to say would bring you back , ever .

BILLY SHOWALTER

Billy would focus only on paying attention in class , do his homework , study and repeated all over again , it was like that since he left the football team , and it wasn't bad either

He was on the middle ground between popular and invisible , and he was thankful for it , because he didn't have to deal with a lot of people or assholes that saw him as inferior to them

But everyone has to taste suffering once in their life , right ?

At first , in his desk he would find the usual vulgar drawings and slurs that were similar as the one written all over the men's bathroom walls . They were easy to erase , no big deal

Then the messages had his name on it , but he didn't felt like a personal attack to him , his name is a common name between boys , no panic

But the messages started to be written on his notebooks and school manuals , and those were harder to erase or ignore like the previous one

Billy was pissed , he didn't had the energy to deal with a bully and his school material ruined after working so hard in keeping it on shape , but his " consolation " was that the one doing this didn't even have the courage to show their face .

They were miserable people with free time on their hands that decided to make him their target , they must be really bored to choose him though . And nothing works better for these type of garbage than ignore them

The last part being ... half true .

When the insults got boring , repetitive and easily forgettable , the no name writer took a more serious turn , took the challenge of making him mad on their own hands

His concern grew up faster when the messages talked about jumping him in the hour of his paper news delivery , writing his house direction repeatedly and scary drawings of dead dogs

Now he couldn't let it slide . Not with his dog , not with his best friend , not with her . He needed to put a stop to this , needed to find who

He packed his stuff more slower this time watching over his shoulder wich classmates were faster to go and who stayed longer to leave

And you , he never noticed before , always were the last one to leave

He went to the cafeteria to buy a snack and time and went back to the classroom , he walked into the classroom and , oh surprise , you were there again

Billy didn't understand why you hated him so much , he doesn't mess with anybody on this god damn school , but now he doesn't have time to listen your reasons , now you will listen to him

" You better stop writing that shit on my notebooks and manuals or I will tell the teacher about your sick messages "

Confused , you tried to come back to reality after you zoned out for so long to understand the situation

" I'm sorry ? What messages ?"

He step closer but never too close to you , frustrated

" Oh come on man , you're the only one that stays after class in this place , the only one that takes a eternity to walk outside the classroom , I'm tired of your fucking bullshit ! I don't fuck with anybody or you in the matter , AND YET , I have to tolerate my notebook and manuals ruined because of you ! "

You tried to speak to clarify the situation but he interrupts you with a much louder voice , you never thought it was possible to see him like this

" I better not see you at the streets or I'll throw a god damn paper new on your face , less than anything to my dog , you better not touch my fucking dog or I'll do worse than that !"

Oh no .... A ... Dog ? .... Like .... The once you had but lost recently ?

Before Billy took his backpack from the chair , he looked at you one last time

" My parents and I work hard to get what I have , you know ? ..."

You felt sorry... This isn't your fault , it's so sad what he's telling you , but-

" I don't care if you insulted me or whatever , but don't fuck with animals , they can't defend themselves... So you better watch out what you do "

That left you with a bad taste in your mouth , someone wanted to hurt his pet , his companion in his daily life an mornings of delivering

School's over , you waited for your parents to pick you up while you were thinking of what Billy told you , you really needed to tell him tomorrow that you ain't the one he's looking for . You only stayed alone on the classroom because you were grieving by your own the death of your dog

But the day tomorrow never came for you .

The same day of your kidnapping , your classmates waited for Billy to throw rocks at him while he was riding his bike , he almost fell down , and Harper almost looses her eye for those bastards

When he came back home and his mother started to patch him up , he couldn't stop thinking that he barked at you for no reason , that he didn't even let you speak for yourself , how stupid he was for letting Harper be hurt by his incompetence

Seeing your photo on the paper news was like a kick on the stomach

" I'm sorry for what I said to you ... "

But it was just a piece of paper , while the real you was buried 3 feet under the ground of that man's basement .

GRIFFIN STAGG

Griffin at first was the perfect target for bullies . Kind , non confronting , quiet , a "weak " book worm that didn't anyone either to stand up for him . With time , the same bullies got bored of him , as if they were expecting a more dramatic reaction from him , but no , he would just let it happen , and that took the " fun " of bullying him they thought

And for for many years , he would be invisible for everybody , he told himself he liked being left alone and have his privacy , but deep down , it was the acceptance to the fact that he didn't have any friends , and nobody wanted befriend him neither , not like he felt he had a lot to offer

But at least he was in peace to study , eat and read whenever he wanted to . At least he has that .

Or well , he had .

He would found his backpack on the trash can , maybe a bully confused his backpack with another poor bastard ?

But It kept happening , so that was not a confusion anymore .

Sometimes his notebooks would be all scratched all over the pages until it was full black , some manuals of his had broken pages as well His mom better not find that out

Different from the past , he tried to make it stop this time . He tried everything , changing places where he kept his things , carrying his backpack whenever he could , even changing locker combination and writing them down on a secluded notebook

But no matter what he did , how he did it and when he did it , his backpack would always have a horrible surprise waiting for Griffin to see

It was almost like some poltergeist was messing with him at this point .

He was already frustrated from so many bullshit going on , but what sent him to the edge of explosion was that the book he got from the library , " The little prince " by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry , got dipped in presumptuously dirty toilet water , a book that he needed to return or else the librarian would not allow him to take books anymore

The moment he thrown the book away back into the trash he rushed into the bathroom and cried from anger . Griffin could only ask himself , why ? Why someone wanted to ruined his life so bad ? Why after so long jerks remembered his existence ? Why or why this is happening to him ?

The next day after he had P.E he saw you taking his backpack out of the trash , and since he had so much frustration accumulated inside him , instead of rationalizing you helping him , he saw you as the persecutor of his misery , blaming you without second thought

He grabbed his backpack with disgust and anger and looked at your other arm where you held your books .... And saw the name of his recently bought book " Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury "

" Hey , that's my book , give it back ! "

You put both of your arms in front of the two of the books , the story and the big grammar manual

" What !? no ! it's mine ! I was just trying to get the backpack out of the trash ! "

He dropped his backpack harshly , he was not having it

" Cut me some slack , will ya !? I only wanted to read and do my homework like a normal person in school and you had to make my life a living hell ! The librarian lady don't trust me anymore because of you ! Give me back what it's mine !"

You tried to protect the book with your arms but Griffin with all the strength his body was grabbing your arms and trying to open them , you were really struggling to keep fighting much longer

The moment you dropped the books he took as fast as a light switch the one he was looking for , but you didn't want him to go away with your favorite book , so you both started to pull harder to get it

But the book was teared apart as you both fall into the ground , you with only the half of the cover , and he with the broken book

" Look what you've done ! You ruined another book again ! "

Frustrated at the boy's attitude you got up from the ground and went after the teacher's to call your family because " you started to feel sick " , and lucky you , they were planning on taking you out for lunch

Your family noticed that you were more quiet than usual , but you only said you were tired ... Tired of regretting to help someone and get your stuff stolen so much

Outside the restaurant , you saw trough the window a puppy that started to look around and seemed lost , you tried to tell your family about it , but you couldn't see exactly where did they go

You went outside , it was just a one sec thing .

You called the puppy and put your hand close to it so they could smell you . The puppy started to cry and move it's paws , as soon as you started to pet it they started to lick your hand , tickling your skin and making you giggle

In one sec you got outside to pet that cute little puppy , and in one sec , the bad wolf , the so called The Grabber , took you away .

Griffin wanted to kick himself when he saw the same book that he broke inside his backpack , deciding to tell his mom once for all what was going on so she could help him buy a new version of the book and give it to you

2 days later , your missing posters were all over the school path , making the boy scared of how fast this Grabber was taking kids away , making the boy sad for having two copies of the same book because he didn't checked his backpack first

Later on lunch break he found his backpack once again in the trash , hearing a group of girls giggle behind him

He wishes to go back in time to make things different , but that's something that happens on books stories only .

VANCE HOPPER

There was no doubt Pin Ball Vance Hopper was the toughest kid in school , and he knew it , proud of his status that gives him the ultimate " Don't fuck with me " power

A lot of people had tried to take his title away , many wanted to have the privilege to say they defeated him , but the more time would pass , the more feared he was , because he would win again , and again , and again .

So that being said , nobody wanted to even look at him in the wrong way , walking on eggshells whenever he's around , and that's how he likes it or how he got used to

Now tell me , if everyone in the entire school knew to stay on their fucking places , why the fuck he had his pencils stolen and broken in two ?

Now , he wouldn't wait to find out who , oh hell no , he's not gonna tolerate that shit happening

He started to ask and grab by the shirt any poor idiot that looked at him more than 2 seconds when he demanded explanations , but they would always answer the same thing

" No please , don't hurt me !" " I'm sorry , I don't want any trouble ! " Chill man , I don't know what are you talking about !" " please stop you're hurting me ! " And bla , bla , bla , bla , bla

But it didn't only stayed on messing with his pencils , no , no , no , the motherfucker started to write his locker all over with threats and a colorful variation of insults

But nobody saw who did it , nobody saw nothing , nobody sees shit when you need it , and that made Vance even more cranky than he already was

The no name no face fucker pulled up a move that nobody has dared to do before , touch his drawing notebook .

He couldn't find it anywhere , students were scared for their lives even if they didn't even knew that thing existed when he started to shout like a furious demon , teachers couldn't calm down the problematic student or make him explain calmly the situation

And then he walked out from the class , from school , without saying anything else , only coming back the very next day with a crowbar to open himself every fucking locker until he founded his notebook .

Teachers yelled at him to stop terrified , students were on a distant circle shocked about what they were watching but too nervous to stay close to Vance Hopper with a possible weapon on his hands , you being part of that confused and scared crowd

He opened 9 , 10 , 11 lockers , and no signal of the only drawing notebook that he has , number 12 .... Your locker , it busted open , and it inside had a similar looking notebook of his . He grabbed the notebook , checked the pages , and he confirmed that he got back what he was looking for

But Vance needed an answer , now .

" Whose locker is this , huh !? WHOSE FUCKING LOCKER IS THIS !? WHO STOLE MY FUCKING NOTEBOOK !?"

By your surprise , the people got away from you and kept starting at you in a way of saying " This is the owner of the locker "

He dropped the crowbar and speed walked towards you , and since you knew you wouldn't be able to defend yourself in any way, you started to run away , and so did him

You felt your feet almost slipping away , his angry breathing and foot steps sounds behind you , along with the distant sounds of the students keeping the track to see your public execution

You don't remember how exactly you did it , but you lost him , and got away hiding behind the school block's back place

Tired and with your legs and lungs burning , you lay yourself to the wall and try to compose yourself , never acknowledging that you were on the school's block , yet outside on the street

With your eyes closed and a body that had already gave everything to escape before , it was easy for the bad man to kidnap you inside his van .

The school suspended Vance for a week , nothing new he would say , but this time the police was more rougher than before the time they came for him

The majority of the people thought that the young man Hopper had something to do with your disappearing , and the police did too , but he told them the truth , and said he didn't even knew you were gone if he was on his house all day and that was .... Half true

He saw your missing posters all over the neighborhood , but he didn't care that much , he kept living his life while trying to beat his damn high score , another kid was lost in the town , so what ? He's too strong to be kidnapped anyway .

The police set him free , and he went to the Grab n' Go once again

Inside , Mrs Ellen wasn't there , and his dear pin ball machine had .... Had a crack on the glass of it !?

He looked around to see if somebody was there as well , but nobody was on the sight

If The jungle queen machine could speak , it would cry over the graffitis they made over the tigers on the sides

" Motherfuckers .... "

Two familiar boys entered inside the mall , one with straight brown long hair and other with a black curly hair and a bandage on his right arm

" Remember us dip shit ? We told you were coming for you "

The two had a pocket knife and a thirst for vengeance , vengeance that they should have kept anonymous

Angry like a wild hungry animal , he fought the two kids with his bare hands until carving once again on their arms with those tiny ass knifes whatever shit would come to his mind as if the first time wasn't enough for them

The kids ran away trying to keep the balance on their step , but failed due how fucked up their faces were and the pain on their arms

Vance sat tired on the ground with his hands covered in blood . Him seeing those two dumb shits run remembered him the last time he saw you

We really ain't nothing in this life , isn't ?

He chased you for nothing , and God knows where the fuck you are now , probably dead , never able to see the sun again

The lady of the mall screams in fear to see the blond messy hair kid like that after getting out from the washroom

" ... I would say I'm sorry if I could or if you were still alive , but that wouldn't change shit . What it's done , it's done .... "

The junior Pin Ball wizard thought as he heard moments later the police siren coming for him .

#the black phone #tbp headcanons #tbp fandom #tbp #finney blake #robin arellano #griffin stagg #bruce yamada #billy showalter #tbp vance #vance hopper #gwen blake #amy yamada

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goldberrg · 1 year

Text

death at the end

summery : — What are you dreaming about? — Billy asks the question again and, despite the rather calm tone, there is not even a shadow of a smile on his face.

Billy has nightmares. Hargrove wakes up every night in a cold sweat and can't come to his senses and get rid of the feeling that everything happened through his fault. Sometimes it seemed to him that if he did not sleep at all, he would not be disturbed by this presence of the ghosts of his own clouded mind, but all in vain. These futile attempts only lead to pain.

Billy is afraid to fall asleep. Hargrove is afraid that he will not be able to wake up simply because he will not find his way back to his world. A world where the sun still shines, a world where night invariably replaces day, and a world where everyone looks at him as a leper. A world where there is no hiding from the curious gazes of ordinary people who have not been touched by the rotten hand of the Torturer of Reason. Billy doesn't want to go outside, doesn't want to catch those stares. He just wants to rewind time, change reality, not to make this fatal mistake, not to obey. Come to think of it, could he?

Billy can no longer distinguish whether he is asleep or awake. The boundaries of both worlds have long been erased for Hargrove's gray eyes, like a storm – clouded sky, and all he can do is hope that he will be saved one day. They will stretch out a warm palm, pull you out of this abyss of delusions. And he will stop seeing a faceless girl suffering in the dark every night.

Of course, Billy is too proud, too swaggering. Hargrove will never admit to anyone that he screams into his pillow late at night when everyone is asleep. He screams, tearing his throat, knocking all the nonsense out of himself. He screams the way wanderers scream, forever lost in the red forest, reeking of blood through and through – Billy always hears the smell of blood now. He never admits how much it hurts him every second.

Billy doesn't like you. He considers you too bitchy, too narcissistic and harsh. He had never met a girl who, instead of giving herself completely into his strong arms, would look at him like that. And you are watching. With such disgust, as if you hate him all your life, even though you transferred to this school only this year. Your look is saturated with apple cider, loose earth and contempt. That's how people look at nasty garbage rats or drunks on the side of the road. This is how you look at your too frivolous classmate, at the dogs without a muzzle and at Billy Hargrove. When he sees. Or he doesn't see it. But you really don't care: you didn't notice his attacks of endless aggression, and he thought he was going crazy under the gaze of those honey eyes. Billy would have ripped them out if he could and shoved them down your throat. Not because of his selfish whim, but because it is necessary, so necessary, otherwise it is impossible to do. And he would watch you choke on your own eyes, your own organs and blood. Look what you've done! It seem to you that Billy is an ordinary narcissistic graduate from a parallel class. You have seen them often. You often caught him looking at you, full of misunderstanding and hatred, as if you were the source of all his problems. And he, in turn, tried not to think about the new girl who was so firmly stuck in his head.

— God, just disappear! — honestly, Billy was no longer enough for anything, so he just grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you aside, continuing to walk in his direction. More precisely, he would have gone if your tenacious little hand hadn't grabbed his elbow.

— Have you completely lost the coast, Hargrove? Blind? — and looks the way only you look. With reproach, disgust and a little bit of hatred. And Billy pays attention to the deep shadows under your eyes — So go to the doctor, you fucking idiot!

— You're not sleeping, are you? — Hargrove suddenly asks, instantly changing his face. He looks at you inquisitively, not at all hoping for the answer he needs. Yoi look at him with an uncomprehending look, take two steps back and freeze, as if you want to say something, but can't. You shook your head sharply and, turning sharply on low heels, rushes headlong down the corridor, almost bumping into passers-by.

You have nightmares. You lie on the bed every night, trying to forget the dream that comes to you again and again every time you forget. One has only to close your eyes for a second, as the same person without a face appears before your eyes, burning in your own memories. The brown-eyed one reaches out to him every time, tries to find out everything and help, but every time nothing happens except pain. This pain is so real, it's like you aren't even sleeping. You don't want to sleep at all, so you showed all the ingenuity you were capable of: you left the house for the night, poured liters of coffee into yourself, listened to the radio loudly and drank coffee again, but everything was in vain. It was worth blinking, as the head obediently lay down on the seemingly incredibly soft pillow, and then – such a familiar pain, in which a heart-rending scream drowns.

You open the toilet stall door on the run, sit on the toilet lid and cover your sweating face with palms.

— Damn, damn, damn! — you whisper fervently, choking on rapidly approaching tears, and then knocks on the wall with force, immediately breaking off. A worthless fool, unable to solve a worthless problem in your worthless life.

You cover your mouth with hands, trying not to break even more, and slowly slides down the wall, inhaling convulsively.

Billy was uneasy after that meeting in the school hallway, and he decided that it would be better to go home and forget himself with a bottle of good whiskey. Just like that, drop everything and have a strong drink, maybe it will take a ride, and his inner demons will decide not to bother Hargrove today. He could not even dream that they would leave forever, because he knew that they would come back anyway. They always come back, even if they haven't been heard from for a couple of days. The gray-eyed man jumps into the driver's seat of his car and rummages in the glove compartment for a long time in search of a lighter, holding a cigar in his mouth. For a second, his attention is attracted by a tired voice that came from somewhere to the left. Turning his head, Billy came across you cursing who were standing next to your car and, apparently, could not find the keys in a small purse. You laid out an already crumpled notebook on the hood, two wine-colored lipsticks, and God knows what else, but there was no bunch of keys anywhere.

— Are you that out of the world that you can't find the damn keys? — Billy asks loudly, which makes you jump on the spot and drop everything on the ground.

— Hargrove, first you bump into me, and now you here with your stupid... — you stop for a second to catch your breath and bites your lower lip. — ..Stupid questions, and now you want to drive me to the grave, you son of a bitch?

— Let's say so. But you didn't answer this... "stupid" question. — showing quotes with one hand, and at the same time taking a drag, the guy said, not at all jokingly staring straight into your unexpectedly reddened eyes. — Are you not sleeping?

— I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. — getting up from your knees, you mint with a haughty grin and still find the cherished bundle. Before you get into the car, Hargrove is surprised to notice a keychain in the form of a teddy bear. And after all, he didn't even have time to make a caustic comment, and only for the reason that you pressed the gas pedal to the floor before Billy had time to formulate an idea.

— Fucking bitch.

In between bouts of uncontrolled aggression, the blue-eyed man tried to catch you for a conversation, but only this devil is terribly elusive. Every time he noticed your dark shirt in the crowd, but you were immediately lost in dozens of the same. Or the situation developed in a more unpleasant way: you simply hung out with three of your friends, which made the incredibly proud Hargrove literally lose his temper. It got to the point that he left a strong dent on the door of his own locker, and almost went to the infirmary, and then to the director. Finally, the brown-haired man still managed to catch you near the cafeteria, and he unceremoniously grabbed your elbow, dragging you to the side. You stared at him expectantly, and in your head there was clearly a war between two demons (Billy thinks there is simply no angel in you) for the right to splash your incredibly hot coffee on incredibly hot – that's what you are ashamed of – Hargrove.

— Billy, god damn fucking, Hargrove! Either you tell me right now why the fuck you've been following me around the school for God knows how long, or this boiling water will end up on your fucker! — you puff, shaking the cup significantly. The guy is not afraid at all, but still decides to take a half step back

— Damn it, listen, you stupid bitch! – Hargrove's tone is no kinder. And you perfectly see every swollen wreath, every burst vessel, and yes, you see those damn bruises under his eyes. You have the same ones myself. — I've been having nightmares for a fucking eternity, and if you say now that you have a wonderful dream, then you, bitch, will fall asleep forever, I guarantee it to you.

— I have wonderful dreams. — you deliberately smile nastily and, without hesitating for a second, in full view of all the assembled onlookers, pour the contents of the cup on the guy and with an imperturbable expression on his face, turn abruptly and walk away, turning into the depths of the corridor. The ringing bell echoes in his exhausted mind, and Billy has no choice but to lean his forehead against the cold wall in impotence. But when will it end?

The party on the occasion of obtaining a driver's license at the Martells' house was originally supposed to be something harmless: just sitting by the fireplace with punch. Until, instead of the invited nine people, thirty came, and until someone from this lucky thirty thought of bringing a few cases of beer. And the next thing you saw Tommy, he was dancing on the table. To be honest, you weren't going to come at all, but you hoped in vain that a strong drink would help to relax and finally forget. So, glass by glass, you said goodbye to common sense and, throwing aside all prejudices, climbed into the bathroom on the second floor, sitting down with a barely started bottle of beer at the bottom of the bathroom and throwing your legs on a shelf so conveniently located. Well, damn him. It's so nice when the gaze is constantly unfocused, one dim light bulb turns into four, and the monotonously dripping water from the tap lulls so well.

Billy Hargrove was a special guest on the show, from which all the attention, as usual, went to the brown-haired man. No sleepless nights will take away his sweet triumph from him, and that's why today the guy decided to have a good time. So much so that wandering through the dark corridors together with another passion for one night in search of a bedroom, he accidentally stumbled against the half-closed bathroom door with his back and safely fell to the floor, hitting either his hip or his knee. The tile is so cool, refreshing. Wandering eyes stumble upon a sneaker sticking out over his head, and then he notices you sprawled in the bathroom.

— What a coincidence. — Hargrove screams in his usual manner, waving away the stunned you who remained standing in the doorway. However, you left after a couple of seconds, being incredibly offended by such behavior, as it turned out, the love of his life.

— Hargrove, don't be like that, you bastard... — you wanted to say something else, but suddenly I was distracted by a fly flying by. Or maybe it was just my imagination. Unlike Billy, you drank only three glasses of punch, and washed it down with warm beer, but you were slow to think. Not at all because of the degree of alcohol, but because of the fatigue that suddenly rolled over. The effect of the coffee you have drunk a couple of hours ago had long passed, and now you wanted to fall asleep sweetly, but as soon as you closed your eyes, everything would repeat itself. How long have you been awake? A day, two? Over the past week, you have slept a maximum of six hours, and then suffering every time the body's need got the better of the you.

The blue-eyed one does not listen to you, and just jumps into your bathroom, sticking his long legs overboard. He looks into his eyes, which are red with fatigue – or maybe tears – and he again feels this surge of uncontrollable energy, which he receives only when he is next to you.

— What are you dreaming about? — Billy asks the question again and, despite the rather calm tone, there is not even a shadow of a smile on his face.

As expected, you are silent, scrolling the neck of the bottle with your fingers. You don't even look at Hargrove, but just stare somewhere over his shoulder, incoherently biting your lower lip. Realizing that he would not achieve anything from this half-wit, and it is unlikely that his insanely strange theory was justified at all. Well, he never knew, you are not sleeping. Maybe you were doing your homework late, or fucking someone. There can be a lot of reasons, and hardly one of them is a creature from the other side, tormenting the minds of hundreds of citizens. Exhaling wearily, the guy pulled himself up to get out of the bathroom and go looking for a girl with an impressive body.

— In the beginning... in the beginning it's very cold. — you suddenly gives out hoarsely. There was an insulting indifference in your voice to everything, which made Billy even doubt what was happening. But after looking at you more closely, the blue-eyed man realizes that you are just on the verge of hysteria. Thin shoulders shudder every now and then, trying to drop the bottle from his hands, but only you are not up to that now. He's still biting his already tortured lips, and it seems to Hargrove that at any moment, such a bitchy bitch as you will sob, and a tear will slash across his cheek. You would crouch in a corner, whine, hug your shoulders and squeeze your knees under you, as Billy often did. But none of this is happening. You were still sitting in the same position, twirling the bottle in your hands and looking around the room. You gather your thoughts.

— And then?

— And then... then it hurts. — you shrug, taking a large sip. The warming liquid settles inside with a pleasant warmth, and yoh fidget, because yoir side has already begun to go numb. You look expectantly, as if waiting for a frank confession in return, and Billy gives in.

— After that – death.

— Yeah.. and death at the end. — you calmly agree and shrug again, looking straight into Hargrove's gray eyes. — I... Billy, I'm so tired. To death.

And the blonde-haired man barely touches the shoulder of yours with the tip of his finger, lowering his gaze somewhere down.

— Me too, sweetheart.

#strangerthings #stranger things 4 #strangerthingsedit #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fandom #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x original character #hargrove billy #stranger things fanfics #stranger things smut #stranger things au

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fizzigigsimmer · 3 months

Text

Bake Off: A Harringrove Sim Story

Chapter 4

Copperdale studios, early morning.

The commercial break ends and we're back with Nancy and her guest's Steve & Billy on the couch of her morning show.

Nancy: Welcome back! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this is 'Good Morning With Nancy'. Before the break my guests, the owners of Harringrove Cafe, revealed the first two teams in Copperdale's very first amateur baking competition. But there's one more team left to introduce. Steve, Billy, everyone is wondering who made the final cut!

For the first time Billy looks almost more excited than Steve.

Billy: Team 3 is the best team in my opinion. There's Robin Buckley, of Dirty Paws training center; who is a bit of a spazz yeah, but is actually pretty good in the kitchen. Although I still say it's weird she cooks in the same kitchen where she makes dog treats.

Steve: Hey! It's not like she doesn't wash everything in between.

Billy: Whatever you say. I don't know if I trust it. But I'd trust her partner Chrissy Cunningham with anything. She's like, my favorite person.

Steve pouts. He seems a tad jealous.

Steve: You can't have favorites Billy!

Billy: Oh please. Everyone knows Chrissy is my best friend. Best friend. Favorite. What's the difference?

Steve: Yeah but, people will think their team has an unfair advantage if you go around telling everyone that!

Nancy: Hmmm... but isn't Robin your best friend, Steve?

Steve: For the duration of the competition I have decided that I have no friends. I'm 100% impartial.

Billy rolls his eyes as Nancy laughs.

Nancy: Aren't you two banned from the Karaoke machine for life because you tried to sing that Toy Story song in Russian and wouldn't let anyone else have a turn?

Billy starts to giggle at the memory and Steve blushes.

Steve: Okay. Maybe it's a good thing the final vote is up to the public.

Nancy: Yes, I think so. But the question on my mind is how did you convince her to get involved with a very public show like this? Robin is known to be very camera shy.

Billy: Yeah, I've been wondering that too.

Steve: Well...

A few weeks earlier....

Steve walks through the park on a cloudy afternoon with his best friend Robin. With them 'Captain Roger' an excitable boxer breed that Robin is pet sitting for a client. Steve has been trying to convince Robin to participate in the Bake Off but Robin is reluctant. The idea of being on TV makes her too nervous.

Roger gets a scent in his nose and starts to run ahead. Steve notices a sign in the park reminding people to leash their pets.

Steve: Hey, is he okay off leash?

Robin: Of course. It's part of the training. I like this park because it's usually empty this time of day and we can work on heel and return commands without being disturbed too much.

Steve was never allowed to have pets growing up and is always very fascinated by Robin's work with animals. If only Billy weren't allergic.

Steve: He really comes back on command? That's so cool. What a good boi! You're a good boi aren't you Roger.

... In the studio

Billy: *sighs* You tried to pet it didn't you?

Steve: What! Why would you think that?

... back in the park

Steve goes to pet Roger, forgetting what Robin told him about Roger disliking people reaching for him suddenly. Robin cries for him to wait but it's too late. The fearful dog goes on the attack and Robin gets bit separating them.

Steve: Robin! You're bleeding.

Worse! Roger has run off. Along with Robin's paycheck and possibly the reputation of her business!!!

Steve: Lets get you to the doctor. Thank god the clinic is close.

Robin: Forget about me! Get the dog!! Roger! Roger here boy!

Steve: Stop, before you hurt yourself. I'll get him and meet you at the clinic.

Robin: Are you sure? What if he tries to bite you again.

Steve: That was my fault before. I won't forget to go slow this time. Just trust me, alright?

Robin: I trust you. You better find him Dingus!

Later at Copperdale Health Clinic ...

Robin sits on an exam bed while nurse Chrissy cleans her wounds and wraps them to keep them from getting infected.

Chrissy: There. You're all done, Robin.

Robin: That wasn't so bad.

Chrissy: It's a good thing you didn't need any stitches. But what's wrong, Robin? You look upset.

Worried, Robin gets up and begins to pace.

Robin: I'm worried about Steve. I mean he's a complete dingus for forgetting Roger is people shy, but I still don't want him to become a chew toy. He's probably puppy chow by now.

Chrissy: I'm sure he's fine Robin. Steve's always come through for you before hasn't he?

Robin: *sigh* That's true I guess.

DING. Over the sounds of the busy clinic an elevator arrives down the hall.

Chrissy: Robin look!

It's Steve, and trotting happily at his side is Roger. Robin isn't going to have to explain things to his owners after all.

Steve: You owe me big Robin.

Robin: Oh as if! This was all your fault to begin with. If anything I owe Chrissy. She's the one who patched me up and kept me from worrying about your stupid ass.

Steve and Chrissy share a look and Chrissy's smile turns just a little bit evil.

Chrissy: True. And I know exactly how you can repay me.

... Back in the studio

Billy: If I didn't know better I'd accuse you of blackmail. Did you two plan that whole thing?

Steve: Slander. I would never put someone in harms way just to achieve my goals Billy.

Billy: Yeah you would. Does Christmas of 86 ring a bell?

Steve: That was an accident! How was I supposed to know a moose was that dangerous?!

Nancy has heard this story so many times. Desperate to save her show before it can devolve into another retelling she jumps in.

Nancy: Let's meet the teams, why don't we?! Joining us on the stage this morning is team #1 Max Mayfield and El Hopper! Give it up for team one.

The audience cheers as Max & El walk out from backstage.

El: Thank you for having us!

Max: Yes. And that moose thing was half your fault Billy. I told you not to feed it peanut butter!

Billy: It was a baby Max! Was I supposed to let it starve?

Nancy: *raising her voice* Argyle Beachem and Eddie Munson of 2nd Grove, everybody. Come on out Team Two!

The crowd roars as Eddie and Argyle appear, waving to the crowd and posing for the flashing of lights as Eddie's fans start to rapidly take pictures. Laughing Argyle poses beside him and encourages them to get his good side.

Nancy: *smiling* And last but never least, give it up for Chrissy Cunningham and Robin Buckley. Our Team Three!

Nancy: That's all the time we have today folks. Tune in next week as we kick off The Harringrove Cafe: Amateur Bake Off, and watch these six talented competitors compete for the crown of Copperdale's most talented amateur baking duo! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this has been, Good Morning With Nancy!

The end...

This marks the end of the completed chapters. I will share some stills from the baking competition because they're super cute, but sadly I don't have time to finish the story. Thanks for joining me on the ride and I hope y'all had a good time!

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #stranger things #Harringrove cafe bake off #harringrove cafe

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bitchin-and-bustin · 2 years

Text

Operation Demogorgon

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary; Eddie Munson might just be slightly obsessed with Y/n L/n...Slightly, as in, he practically stalks you. But in his defense, it started out in your best interest, because you were on Vecna's list.

Warnings; obsessive behavior, obsessive!eddie, pervert!eddie, stalking, stakeout, spying

PART ONE | PART TWO

Eddie Munson was infatuated with Y/n L/n.

You were all he talked about. In fact, he mentioned you so much, that his friends were starting to think he was obsessed with you.

And he very well was.

Eddie had your weekly schedule memorized. Mondays, you would take her morning walk with your golden retriever, then later that day at 4pm, you would start your shift at the town's arcade. Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays you were off of work, but still took your morning walks. Fridays and Saturdays were your busiest days of the week, as your shift at the arcade went from 10am to 9pm on those days. Those days, you took your walks at night after her shift. Sundays were free days as well, and you could be found doing a variety of things with your days off, such as going to the movies or babysitting the Wheelers' youngest daughter, Holly, for extra cash.

Of course, Eddie only knew this all because he practically stalked you.

"Its not stalking." Eddie would say everytime he was accused of it. "Its just observing."

"Yeah," Steve Harrington would respond with a raised eyebrow. "Observing constantly. From alleyways. And crowds. And the park across from her house."

"Very close observing, then."

"Dude, she called the cops on you once."

"Yeah, but only once."

"Munson, you're about one 'coincidental meeting' away from a restraining order."

"Pretty sure she was joking when she threatened that."

"Pretty sure she wasn't."

So yes, Eddie Munson was very obsessed with Y/n L/n.

It had all started out rationally, though.

In 1986, about two months after the "mysterious murders" that took place in Hawkins that year, Max Mayfield expressed her worries to her friends about how she feared an old enemy might be up to no good again, and that you were at the top of his hit list.

Naturally, everyone decided to do everything they could from preventing the horrifying death that would befall you if Max's intuition was true.

They'd started by setting up a watch schedule. Each night a week, you would unknowingly have someone watching your window from across the park across the street from your house. When they decided that wasn't very effective, Will Byers took it upon himself to be useful and applied for a job at the arcade where you worked. It only took about two months for you and Will to build a solid friendship. This was an advancement in your protection, because you just so happened to unintentionally use Will as your therapist. So Will Byers knew all the drama, and all the trauma.

It was around this time that Eddie Munson realized how pretty you were. He'd started volunteering to watch you on the nights he was supposed to be off duty, and he'd started the beginnings of memorizing your weekly schedule.

But after about a year of these attempts in making sure you weren't on Vecnas list of possible murder victims, nothing had changed, and nothing seemed like it was going to change anytime soon.

So, reluctantly, they all agreed to call off the night watches. Eddie however, insisted to himself that they should continue, and so for him, continue they did. This was how he caught several glimpses of you in nothing more than a bra and your pajama pants through his binoculars about three times. This was where the others accusations of Eddie being a stalker originated.

"Its just creepy," Said Billy Hargrove once after the subject had been brought up. "Really creepy. Even I'm not that much of a pervert."

"Billy, you tried to hook up with Mike's mom once," Max had replied to that with crossed arms.

"Its not his fault. He tries to hook up with everyone." Dustin Henderson shrugged.

Mike Wheeler had sat between the three of them with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "Wait, when did he try to hook up with my mom?!"

So, again, after almost two years, Eddie's infatuation with you had become just slightly more obsessive than he'd intended.

Nancy Wheeler, who was continuously creeped out and annoyed by Eddie's behavior, had urged him multiple times to pluck up the courage to actually ask you out on a date.

"Oh, that's not gonna end well." Will Byers said simply one of the times Nancy brought the suggestion up. "Y/n thinks he's an absolute sycophant. A pervert, really."

Eddie's shoulder's had fallen. "Great."

"You really shouldn't take it personally, Eddie." Will immediately told him. "She doesn't like most people."

"She likes you." Eddie stated, matter of factly.

"Yeah, because I don't stalk her."

Nancy sighed deeply. "Will, I'm sorry, but you really are not helping right now." The younger boy rolled his eyes. "Eddie, watching her all the time isn't going to change anything."

Eddie sighed, and crossed his arms. "Okay, so say I managed to get within ten feet of her. What do I say then? 'Hey, Y/n, sorry I practically stalk you and creep you out. Wanna go out sometime?' "

"Well don't say it like that." Nancy told him. "You could try just casually bringing it up?" She suggested.

Steve scoffed from the other side of the room, where he and Dustin sat together, listening in on the conversation. "It doesn't matter who he does it, she's gonna reject him. He stalks her."

"Yeah, but she doesn't know why." Dustin stated.

Steve glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. "So? He still stalking her. Chicks don't dig that stuff."

"Well, I'm just saying, if she knew it was for her own protection maybe she wouldn't be so creeped out by him. She'd maybe even like him more, she'd think he's been protecting her all this time."

At Dustin's words, Eddie's head shot up and his eyes widened. He looked to Dustin, who turned to him as well. Both of their faces lit up, as if silently plotting together.

Steve glanced back and forth between the two of them and few times before finally realizing what they were doing. "Wait- no. No. Nope. We are - you are not doing this." Steve said sternly. "We shot that plan down a long time ago!"

"Well...technically we put it in the drafts." Eddie said to Steve. He smirked slightly. "Never in the trash."

"What, no-"

"We're doing this."

Dustin was grinning, and nodded to himself. "Hell yeah." He and Eddie shared a look of excitement. "Operation Demogorgon is a go."

Friday came quicker than Y/n L/n would have liked.

At nine in the morning, you came grumpily walking out of your car to the arcade, sporting the hideous blue shirt you were forced to wear due to company policy. You did your usual routine of waving at Robin Buckley through the window of the Family Video store just next door, and then pushed your way through the crowd of kids already waiting to get into the arcade for the morning.

What you didn't know was that Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson were currently watching your every move through pairs of binoculars.

The two of them were in a flowerbed across the parking lot, both of them laying on their stomachs army style and were hiding behind bushes of flowers, peering through them with binoculars.

Eddie sighed, almost sounding irritated. "Why does she have to walk like that?" He asked quietly.

Dustin glanced over at him. "Walk like what?"

"Like she's a goddamn model." Eddie said. "She seriously just struts everywhere, it's insane."

"I don't know, but damn...that ass."

"Right?"

"And you guys wonder why she thinks you're a creep."

Eddie and Dustin turned their heads and looked up, seeing Steve standing behind them with a tired looking expression. Will also accompanied him. Since Steve worked with Robin at the video store next to the Arcade - and he was basically the mom of the group - he would drive Will to and from work when he had shifts.

That morning, the younger boy didn't look his best. His face was slack, and there was noticable dark circles under his eyes. It seemed as though he hadn't gotten much sleep that night before.

Will stared down at his friend and Eddie with a blatant expression. "Why are you on the ground?" He asked.

Dustin turned over to properly face his other friends. "We're trying to be unseen here." He said with a 'duh' tone of voice. "You guys standing here talking to us is gonna blow our cover!" He furrowed his eyebrows, seeing Will's unusually ruffled state. "Are you okay? You look like you have a hangover.

"I didn't know spying on her was part of the plan." Will said quickly, ignoring Dustin's question purposefully.

Eddie sighed as he got to his feet. "Let's get this over with, Byers."

Steve departed from them, muttering to himself about how this plan of their's was going to backfire on them as he walked toward Family Video.

"Alright." Dustin stood up and brushed the dirt off of him. "Operation Demogorgon is now in motion. Let's roll."

Out of all the jobs you'd worked at, working at the Arcade to have been the most boring one yet. The most the job entailed was arguing with a couple of middle schoolers about how much tokens cost.

Sitting at the counter, you usually sat by yourself and read a book. This particular time, you entertained your boredom with The Hobbit, which you'd read a hundred times before just because you found Bilbo's character so relatable. The only problem with reading in the Arcade was that you became easily distracted by the sound of the door opening. So when you heard the swish of wind from someone entering the building, you looked up from your book to see who it was.

"Henderson, hey!" You greeted with a smile as Dustin walked up to the counter. You closed your book. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, I was with Will, actually." Dustin said, shuffling his feet. "He came in through the back. He told me to come in and tell you that he needed help carrying something."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Carrying what?"

Dustin shrugged. "Uh, I- I don't know." He said.

You sighed and stood up. "Let me go see." You muttered.

You walked out from behind the counter and towards the backroom. You didn't notice Dustin snatch the key to the backroom off the hook behind the counter and follow you.

As you opened the door and stepped inside the cluttered room, you paused. It was easy to say you hadn't been expecting to find Eddie Munson leaning against an out of order Dragon Slayer game.

As soon as he saw you walk in, Eddie stood up straight and watched you awkwardly. You stared at him, half in shock, half in anger.

"Uh...hey." Eddie said, smiling nervously.

You said nothing, and quickly turned around towards the door, only to find Will standing there with his hand on the doorknob.

"Sorry, Y/n." He said glumly. "I don't react to peer pressure very well. Please don't hate me." With that, he closed the door, took the key from Dustin, and locked you inside.

You cursed to yourself, and grabbed the doorknob, jerking on it aggressively to try to get it to open. Your face was red with anger by now.

"Will! Henderson! Open the damn door!"

There was a faint "No!" from Dustin before you you sighed aggressively and let ho of the handle. Reluctantly, you turned to face Eddie, who stared at you like he was regretting his life's decisions.

"Alright, was is this?" You questioned, and then scoffed. "You know you've got a lot of nerve trying this, Munson. You creep."

Eddie gave his own sigh. "Yeah, well, what if I told you I'm trying to explain why I'm such a creep?"

You narrowed your eyes. "I'd say its gonna be some jackshit excuse."

Eddie leaned back against the broken Dragon Slayer. "It is an excuse, and it is jackshit, but its valid." You gave him an unconvinced expression. "Please, Y/n. Just hear me out.

You stared at the boy in front of you for a moment before sighing and sitting down in a discarded chair against the wall. "Fine." You crossed your arms. "But the rush hour is at eleven, so try and make this quick."

Eddie nodded, crossing his own arms. "Okay. So, a lot of this is gonna sound made up, but I promise you, every word I'm about to say is true."

You raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"Well...I guess it started back in 1983, when Will went missing."

"When he got lost in the woods?"

Eddie gave a silent laugh. "Yeah...only, he didn't get lost in the woods."

You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned up off the back of your seat, intrigued. "Then what happened to him?"

Eddie paused a moment to process what he was about to say. "Will was taken."

Your eyes widened. "By who?"

"Not by who. By what."

You didn't really know what to think about it all when Eddie was done speaking. After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but smirk at the boy slightly. A guttural laugh built up in the back of your throat.

"So, Munson," You started, pressing your hands together as you pretended to think. "You're telling me, that there is an alternate dimension of Hawkins beneath us full of monsters, the most powerful of which is planning by untimely, gruesome murder." You raised an eyebrow. "Did I get that right?"

"Yep." Said Eddie, exhaling.

Your smirk grew. "Wow...So, where's the camera? Is Harrington filming this?"

"Wait, what?" Eddie gave you a look of disbelief as he uncrossed his arms. "You think I'm making this up?"

"Well, duh."

From where they stood behind the door either their ears pressed against it, listening in, Will and Dustin exchanged nervous glances.

"Why would I come up with such an elaborate story just to prank you?" Eddie questioned, sounding bothered he wasn't believed.

"I don't know, dude. You play Dungeons and Dragons. I don't question anything you weirdoes do in those brains of yours." You scoffed. Eddie looked utterly defeated. Ticking your eyebrows, you stood up from the chair and checked your watch. "Well, this has been fun Munson, but I've got ten minutes until rush hour, so I'd better be off. I liked your story though, you should turn it into a book." You walked up to the door and banged your fist on it. "Alright, open up, dipshits! We're all done in here."

There was a muffled shuffle, and soon you heard the key turning in the lock. It was opened by Dustin, and you came walking out, sending him and Will a look that said "screw you guys".

"You're on token duty next week, Byers." You snarked as you walked away.

Will groaned. "Shit."

Then him and Dustin turned to Eddie, who was still in the room, only now he looked almost devastated that you didn't believe him. "I think I fucked it up even more." He grumbled.

"Probably." Dustin said.

Eddie sighed, standing up straight. "Well, what else was I supposed to do, Henderson? I told her the truth, she didn't believe me."

"Well, it was a long shot.

"It was your idea, Henderson!"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Will, why aren't you defending me in this?!" He turned to his friend and then his face fell almost immediately. "Will?"

The other boy was standing almost completely still, besides his head, witch twitched every few seconds. His eyes were glossed over and seemed to be fighting the urge to roll into the back of his head and were fluttering madly.

Eddie's eyes widened as Dustin grabbed his friend's shoulders and started shaking him. "Will? Will, what's happening? Will?! Shit!"

"Its just like Chrissy." Eddie whispered, inching closer.

Dustin looked back at him, fear engraved in his face. "When she-?"

"Yeah."

Dustin looked back at his seizing friend worriedly. "That doesn't make any sense! Will would've told us if he was having visions!"

Then he paused. He though back to their eight grade year, after Will had returned from the Upsidedown, when the Mind-Flayer had control over him. He would do this same thing. But this hadn't happened for years.

Dustin's face paled. "No...this isn't Vecna." He muttered. "This is something else. I've this happen to him before." He looked back at Eddie. "When Will was under the Mind-Flayer's control, he would ho into these trance-like states, just like this. The Mind-Flayer would show him visions of the Upsidedown. This has got to be what it is."

Eddie stared at him. "So how do we stop it?!"

"I don't know."

Before either of them could go into their rightful state of panic, they were interrupted by a loud gasp and a crash. They turned back to Will and found that he had come out of his trance and had collapsed to the floor.

"Oh, Jesus," Eddie muttered as he and Dustin kneeled down in front of Will.

"Will!" Dustin put his hand back on his friend's shaking shoulder. The other boy looked absolutely haunted. It scared Dustin. "Will, what happened? Was it the Mind-Flayer?!"

Will slowly looked up at Dustin. He shook his head. "No..." he took a shakey inhale. "It was him. Vecna."

The other two's eyes widened more.

"Will, what happened?" Eddie said quickly. "What did you see!?"

Will's hand covered his mouth as he sat on the floor, shaking with the after-feeling of relieving his vision-having. He looked up at Eddie, and whispered.

"It's Y/n. She's next.

Please like if you enjoyed! Reblogs are appreciated! Comment to be tagged in furture parts!

-- bitchin n bustin <3

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aemiron-main · 2 years

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i am so normal about the wheelers

having an absolutely Normal Day thinking about mike being punished for vandalizing the bathroom stall in s2 & how mike says that everyone else does it and how he’s STILL punished in spite of this because the wheelers want him to conform- but god forbid he conform in the wrong way. everyone else is doing it. isn’t that what his parents wanted? for him to be like everyone else? but he’s still getting in trouble for it. ted still starts giving him shit about conformity and ‘if your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?” all while making comments like ‘our son? with a girl?’ the wheelers aren’t just pro-conformity. no, they’re pro-conformity under the guise of being anti-conformity, something i talked about with the ST soundtrack as a whole in this post. they’re a living, breathing representation of american exceptionalism. they don’t conform, of course they don’t, they’re different, they’re go-getters, karen’s not like other suburban moms who cheat on their emotionally unavailable husbands, she’s good and pure and makes sacrifices for her family or at least that’s what she tells herself until the day she finds herself in the bathroom with her red lipstick, getting ready for her date with billy, and then she tells herself that she’s still not like those other moms at the pool drooling over billy, she’s a red hot fox in her prime, she shouldn’t waste that, right? it wouldn’t be a waste for those other women, right? because they don’t have her figure, they don’t have her style, they’re not the exceptional karen wheeler. but she’s exactly like them. she’s exactly like them. it is her belief that she’s not like then that is what makes her exactly like them. her delusions of exceptionalism are what puts the final nail in the coffin of her conformity. because all of those women think that they’re not like the woman next to them. they’re all just identical little exceptions in their identical little worlds on their identical little pool chairs just like how their grand country of america is sitting on its identical pool chair on the world stage kicking and screaming about how different it is- just like every country that kicks and screams about how different it is, it is through its kicking and screaming about its exceptionalism that it becomes like all of the others. karen goes to her jazzercise and she goes to her salon and those things in and of themselves are not immoral but they are a glaring contradiction to her exceptionalism because she is not exceptional at all- she’s just putting up a front of it, she works so hard to be inherently and naturally exceptional but it’s all for nothing because people who are naturally exceptional don’t have to work at forcing themselves to be exceptional. she’s just like every other exceptional red hot fox at the jazzercise class. the wheeler dinners stop happening when season three rolls around. when activewear is introduced into karen’s wardrobe, when she starts going to jazzercise, when it becomes less about her family and conforming to that nuclear housewife dream and instead about conforming to the fantasies in her romance novels about daring women who cheat on their husbands and how it’s not their fault that they’re cursed with the sort of main character exceptionalism that makes it a waste and a sin NOT to cheat on their husband, because there’s some lucky man that would love to have his hands on her in the way that her husband doesn’t bother doing, the exceptionalism that takes karen away from being a commodity of a housewife to being a commodity of a milf. it’s still conformity. it’s just a different type. she goes from looking like every generic 80s mom to still looking like every generic 80s mom in a different way. she is still an object, just a different kind. billy does not see her any differently than ted does, at the core. karen is ted’s gorgeous, young wife, his reward for making money and doing everything ‘right’. karen is also billy’s gorgeous, older date, billy’s reward for being a hot young man (in the eyes of society), his reward for being like every other rebellious, bigoted, misogynistic badboy teen. she is still a commodity. she is still an object. she is still a prize for the men around her. and mike has ALREADY been punished for the act of defacing the bathroom stall. he already lost his atari for it. the toys were brought up before the bathroom stall was. having to give away the toys was not originally a punishment for the vandalism. but karen wheeler lives in a world of exceptionalism, where she is the exception, she can’t be a bad, mean mom like those other moms, and so, there MUST be a reason as to why she’s right, there must be a valid, good mom reason for ignoring and demeaning her son’s feelings. so she looks for a reason and finds one. it’s not something wrong with her: it’s something wrong with mike. it’s not her parenting that’s the problem, it’s mike. he’s the problem. or, again, at least that’s what she tells herself as she punishes him again for something that he’s already been punished for, because really, he’s not being punished for cursing out mr kowalski, or for defacing the bathroom stall, or for plagiarizing an essay: he’s being punished for existing, for the fact that his existence holds a mirror up to karen’s bad parenting, for the fact that he’s not even trying to reflect her own guilt back at her, it just comes to him naturally because he is so much a product of the very environment that forced guilt onto him, so now they’re surprised that he’s made of guilt whenever they look at him? now karen’s SURPRISED that all she feels is guilt when she sees him, despite being the one who always dumped all of her guilt onto him and covered him in it. gee, karen, maybe he reminds you of your own emotions because you project those emotions onto him and force him to cater to them? mike being punished for defacing a BATHROOM STALL because god forbid his existence make a mess or have any impact on the space he's in. god forbid somebody be aware of his existence, god forbid he can’t be something that karen can just compartmentalize right next to her resent and guilt about motherhood and resent and guilt about ted. he’s not her wedding ring that she can take on and off when it suits her. but god, she wishes he was. god forbid mike and the evidence of his existence isnt something that can just be packaged up into exactly two boxes for the charity toy drive. it’s like nancy talking about how she’s seen mike’s bedroom looking worse than the cabin obliterated by an interdimensional monster, when the reality is that mike’s got a couple pairs of pants and a shirt on his bedroom floor- he can’t make any sort of mess, can’t leave any evidence of his existence, lest it be blown out of proportion and used to scapegoat and punish and mock him.

mike isn’t just expected to conform: he’s expected to conform in the RIGHT WAY. it’s like when he fakes being sick. i made a post about this awhile back that i can’t find right now, but karen previously is mentioned to have gotten upset with mike/sent him to school when he was ACTUALLY sick, when he was sick in a way that’s inconvenient and unpalatable for her, sick in a way that reminds her of the inconvenience and disgust she feels, in a way that reminds her of the guilt she feels for feeling that inconvenience. but as soon as he’s such in the RIGHT way? as soon as he’s faking it and pretending and being sick in a convenient, patable way? then karen seizes the opportunity to soothe her guilt and fawn over him, but it’s still not about him, it’s about her, and trying to seem like a good mother, and trying to get him to go on a car ride, and trying to beat back the guilt about how mike thought she would be mad at him again for being sick, the guilt about how she WOULD’VE been mad if he was sick in the way he was last time, in the inconvenient way, in the way that makes her aware of his existence. it’s like nancy trying to clean the punch off of her shirt. because god forbid she makes a mistake or leaves any evidence of her existence, right? she could’ve changed shirts- it’s not about not wanting to wear a messy shirt. it’s about not wanting the mess to exist in the first place, to not even be able to clean it properly because you don’t want people to become aware of it in the process of leaving to go home to take it to the laundry. it’s not just about making a mistake and trying desperately to clean it up, it’s about making a mistake and trying to eradicate that mistake out of existence, but not in a way that’s too violent or draws too much attention, she can’t destroy the shirt because then people start asking questions about where the shirt went: just like the wheelers with their kids. their, uh- mistakes, i mean, children, can’t just be eradicated out of existence, but the wheelers DO want them to stay silent, to never make any mess or leave any evidence of their existence- it’s not even about wanting them to clean up their own messes, it’s about not wanting the mess to exist in the first place. and ted? ted doesn’t realize that his son IS the friend stepping off the cliff. he’s so focused on false exceptionalism by telling him not to follow someone off the cliff that he inadvertently results in his son being the one to walk off the cliff because he’s doing what dad told him to, right? he’s not following anymore, he’s leading, he’s leading, he’s an exception, but he’s still not an exception in the right way, he’s still not conforming in the right way, he’s genuinely nonconformist which is frowned upon because he’s supposed to be nonconformist in the RIGHT way, in a way that still conforms. he’s supposed to not follow his hypothetical friend off the cliff because dad and society told him not to! he’s supposed to conform to THEM! he’s not supposed to conform to the friend who walks off the cliff, he’s supposed to conform to ted who tells him not to walk off the cliff. but then what happens when he does neither? what happens when mike IS the friend walking off the cliff? he’s doing what you wanted, ted. he’s not following his friend off the cliff. isn’t this what you wanted? but we both know it’s not. because we know it’s not about your son’s wellbeing, nor is it about any genuine nonconformity- it’s about getting him to conform to YOUR wishes, nonconformity is nothing but a tool to you to try and get people to conform in a different way, conform in a way that aligns with what YOU want. because yet again, god forbid mike leave any evidence of his existence, right? mike being the friend who jumps off of the cliff is a problem not because it harms him but because he’d leave too much blood on the rocks, because it’d be a pain in the ass to clean up just like his toys were, because the quarry wouldn’t be the place where the byers kid died anymore, it’d be where the wheeler kid died, and we can’t have that because the wheelers are exceptional, the wheelers are both exceptional and entirely conforming and it is their false delusions of exceptionalism that pushes them the furthest into conformity. god forbid mike runs in the house in early season 2. god forbid nancy does it either. god forbid you’re reminded that you have kids. god forbid that the rattle of the cabinets as they run is evidence of their existence, no matter how brief. mike wants so badly for people to be aware of his existence even if it means it’s just from them seeing his blood on the rocks, he wants to help his friends and give up all of himself doing so, he wants to be a hero. again, mike isn’t just expected to conform: he’s expected to conform in the RIGHT WAY. he can’t even die properly by their standards. his family wants him to be invisible, to not be aware of his existence, but not in the wrong way. he can’t even conform right. he gets a girlfriend and ted STILL mocks him about his ‘sweetie pie’. nothing will ever be good enough for them. he can never even conform proprerly in their eyes- the tragedy is how hard he tries. he tries so hard to conform and ends up being nonconformist and exceptional as a result of his attempts to conform, all while his family is so desperately trying to be nonconformist and exceptional and ends up being conformist specifically BECAUSE of their attempts to be nonconformist. hell, jonathan even talks about this EXACT idea in the show- nancy thinks she is rebelling against being a typical suburban kid but shes rebelling in the same way as every other suburban girl.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #st analysis #byler #mike wheeler analysis #wheeler family #karen wheeler #ted wheeler #wheeler family analysis #nancy wheeler

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stranger-rants · 2 years

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TW: Discussions of (C)SA / Rape / Incest (Mention)

The irony is that people saying Billy would be a sexual predator or rapist are the same people who bring up Billy setting a (dead) cat on fire in Runaway Max to show that he’s a “psychopath” (their words). How are these two related? Well, when I have to do my child abuse identification training every year for my job, fire-setting is unfortunately a common indication that a child has been sexually abused that we have to be aware of. So there’s that. That in and of itself doesn’t confirm whether or not that happened to Billy, especially given that Runaway Max isn’t exactly canon. However, there are other canon indicators that people misattribute to Billy being a womanizer.

There’s the fact that Billy is very knowledgeable about sex despite only being 17/18. Of course, other characters his age have sex but it’s in the awkward but developmentally appropriate phase of discovering sex and sexuality. Billy is aware of what to say or do to get attention from adults who want to have sex with him. He knows how to dress. He knows where to go. He knows how to suggest that he is sexually available. Teenagers are not supposed to know how to do that. Not only that, they’re not supposed to act on that knowledge. It’s not their fault if they are abused as a result of that behavior, but that behavior often indicates they have been abused.

Then there’s just that fact that the way that Billy copes with everything is a red flag. Billy is anxious, aggressive, and highly reactive in stressful situations. He drinks, smokes, and drives recklessly on a regular basis. He canonically dissociates. When he’s possessed, he already has the coping skills necessary to withstand at least some of the pain and anguish from that situation. No other teenager in this show acts like he does, not even Max. None of the main characters fit the criteria for having survived sexual abuse quite like Billy does, and I have known, personally, male victims of CSA who look and act very similarly to Billy.

If you don’t think that it’s highly likely for him to be a (C)SA survivor, that’s fine. It’s not something I enjoy thinking about. It’s just a strong possibility given his behavior. Again, not all survivors are sweet and non-threatening. That said, to position Billy as any kind of rapist or sexual predator (especially accusing him of incest) when there is absolutely no evidence or indication to that is really fucked up. This is especially given the graphic assault on his body and mind by The Mindflayer. You have to absolutely not give a single shit about survivors if you’re going to position Billy as a willing participant in the abuse of his mind or body like that no matter what.

This is not something we can agree to disagree on. If you in any way suggest that Billy wanted it, you are the problem.

#csa tw #rape tw #incest tw #billy hargrove #fandom critical

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half-oz-eddie · 11 months

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Billy constantly worried about losing it all. That everything would come crashing down. That he would be pushed out of his only safe space. He feared waking up one day to a sudden change, that everyone would hate him like they should have.

Because he's terrible

Horrible

A fuck up

An asshole

A douche

A monster

He wanted to enjoy the safety of Steve's arms, the moments shared with those who saw him as friends. He wanted to bask in it all, but he kept everything at arms length.

His heart would ache every single day, thinking it was all fleeting and everyday was the last day he could enjoy any of it.

So he hardly enjoyed any of it.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he finally opened up to Steve about it.

Steve immediately thought it was his fault. "Do I not love you enough?" "Am I not showing it in a way that proves it to you?"

Billy shook his head at every question and every harmful thing Steve said about himself and his ability to love him.

"You're perfect, actually, and that's the fuckin' problem. I don't...deserve perfect. None of this is right for me."

"Why not? Don't you want this?"

"More than anything. I never wanna go back to that dark place and I never wanna feel alone ever again. I just—I don't feel like I'm enough for anyone to stay."

"Why do you think anyone sticks with you, Billy?"

"I don't—I dunno." He painfully replied.

"Why do you think I stay with you?"

Billy shrugged. "Because we love each other? A lot?"

"Yeah," Steve firmly nodded. "You're damn right we do. I know you love me. You love me so much. You always show it, and I'd be a dick if I left you when you love me as much as you do."

"Then why do I always feel like this? I'm always so doubtful."

"Because you don't love you like I do. You resent yourself so much, you refuse to see your improvements. You still see yourself as the same Billy that I couldn't get along with." "I'm still that person."

"You'll always be Billy, but your heart is much different from what it used to be. Don't you feel that?"

He shrugged again. "Maybe. I dunno."

"Hey." Steve waited until Billy reluctantly met his eyes. "Do you trust me?'

Billy nodded. "Course I trust you. I wouldn't love you if I didn't."

"Then trust me when I say there are reasons to love you. And I'll tell you every single one when it's not 4:34 in the morning." Steve smiled, Kissing Billy's forehead as he grasped his hand.

"It's probably only like...10 reasons. You don't need that much time."

"Yeah?" Steve kissed his hand. "So you admit ther're at least 10 things to love about you?"

Billy growled and pushed Steve's head away as he laughed. "Shut up, shut up! You're such a smartass."

“I love you.” Steve kissed his hand once more. “Will you go back to bed now so I can love you even more when we wake up?”

“Fine.” He nuzzled into Steve’s neck, mumbling for him to “do the thing.”

Steve reached his hand to the crown of Billy’s head, running his fingers through his hair.

He smiled to himself, thinking about how much of a handful Billy was, but he wouldn’t want his hands full of anyone else.

#ivy.doc #caliscoops.doc

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lovebillyhargrove · 1 year

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A follow up to this *billy's camaro fic*

Next day the boys are busy. Well, it's mostly Steve who's busy. While having breakfast Billy tries insisting on coming with him to the repair shop, because of course he needs to see for himself who they are entrusting his precious baby to, but Harrington tells him it's too risky to be seen in public just yet. It's a small town, you never know who you're going to run into when you turn the corner. It might be Tommy, it might be Max, it might be their high school Lit teacher or Billy's former manager from the Hawkins community pool. It might be literally anyone who Billy is still not quite ready to see. Or, who aren't ready themselves to bump into a supposedly dead teenager looking very much alive and walking around the town like it's the most natural thing. Harrington has already resurrected the car once. To be more exact, he's found the right people to do it, so. He's not new to this. Billy finally listens to the voice of reason and just grabs the medicine kit to treat a couple of wounds that still bother him. Steve calls the tow truck service, and in two hours he's standing near the repair shop watching the camaro being unloaded from the truck.

"Kid, you gotta stop doing whatever you're doing to that car." - Old Joe tells Steve, shaking his head in disbelief, and Harrington just throws up his hands like the situation which led up to this was out of his control. It actually was, so it's nobody's fault.

When Steve gets home, he hears sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen.

"You want a grilled cheese sandwich, Harrington? Found stuff in the fridge, making some."

Wow, that's kinda new. Nobody has cooked anything for Steve in a long, looong, no you don't understand, a really long time

"Yeah, if that's okay?"

"So how did it go?"

"Well, the old man was uh .. confused? I don't think he expected me to be back like that. He was also sad .. ? Cause they fixed it up so well. Looked brand new, just a few weeks ago."

"He'll just have to do it again. If he agreed. Did he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he did. He knows the car, knows what to do. It's not as bad as the last time."

"When are they gonna be done?"

"He said he would call me tonight, or tomorrow morning, tell me about the time they'll need."

"How much is it?"

"Well, he didn't tell me the exact price, because .. he still needs to look into it, so .."

Hargrove's looking at Steve intently

"Listen, I'll give you the money back. But obviously not right now."

"Yeah, I mean .. You don't have to give me back anything."

"I will, Steve."

"If you want to, okay. We can talk about it later, really. We have like .. so many things to figure out first."

Billy's putting a sandwich on a plate and sliding it to Harrington.

"Lunch."

"Oh wow. Thanks."

After lunch Steve goes upstairs and searches through his drawer for Dr. Owens' phone number.

When Owens hears Steve's name, he asks immediately

"Is it acting up again, Steve?"

"What? Oh, no. No, everything is okay here, just .. do you remember Billy? Billy Hargrove?"

"Of course. The guy who died in Starcourt?"

"Yes. Well .. what would you say if I told you that .. hypothetically, I had some information about him being alive?"

Steve's feeling kinda stupid. He's not completely sure they can trust Owens, but they really have no-one to turn to if they need help with documents. Billy Hargrove is officially dead. Even if they are talking about a fake ID, with a different name, Steve doesn't have connections like that. And it's not just an ID. Driving license, high school diploma, where are they supposed to get all the papers from??

Steve's afraid he's not good at this trying-not-to-get-too-involved-with-the-government stuff. Fucking spy shit. Outlaw level.

"I'd say, it makes sense, Steve."

"R .. really? Why?"

"Well, you don't know that but .. when the scene was cleared and all of you were sent home after what happened in Starcourt, Billy's body .. was gone. After the paramedics announced his death, I believe the body was just laying there unsupervised for .. really, not more than only a few minutes, but when my people came to pick it up, it wasn't there, on the Starcourt floor. We searched everywhere, but it just vanished into thin air."

"Oh my god. So .."

"So I am not even too much surprised to hear your news."

"Why didn't you say anything .. to Billy's family? Who did you bury in that grave??"

"Steve, he was dead. How could I have explained this to his family?? It was a closed casket. It was an empty casket."

Owens is silent for a second.

"Now .. The more important question is, if Billy is alive, is there a chance that he's still flayed? Is he dangerous?"

Steve's looking at Billy sitting across from him and he understands that Billy understands too. What they are talking about. Probably he can hear Owens voice.

"Look, Dr. Owens, I uh .. first of all, the key word here is hypothetically. Like .. I don't even know if he's alive or not. But if he was and he didn't present any .. danger to people, would there be any possibility to get his life back to normal somehow? I mean, paperwork?"

"Anything is possible, Steve. But we would have to run some tests first probably."

Billy's tensing

Steve actually doesn't think it was such a great idea to call Owens now. Fuck. "One of the good ones", my ass.

"Dr. Owens, listen. Hypothetically .. -

Hargrove's rolling his eyes at hearing the word for the third time now

- .. speaking, a guy who came back from the dead would be very traumatized, right? What if .. what if there was a way not to run any tests in a lab or something like that?"

"I hear you, Steve. I would still need to see him, even if it was only me. How does that sound?"

Steve's looking at Billy. Hargrove is shrugging his shoulders.

"How can I be sure that it's only going to be you, Dr. Owens?"

"Steve. You've already been through so much. We've been through certain things together as well. You might have noticed I do things differently than my other colleagues. Will and Jane, they are living a usual life in California, right? We let them go. I just need to make sure Billy is not a threat."

"I see."

"Let's make a deal. I'll make all the papers ready. We'll meet and talk, the three of us, in a public place. Or I can visit the place where, hypothetically, -

Steve's covering the receiver with one hand and whispering to Hargrove "Is he mocking me?" -

" .. Billy is staying. Just me. If I see that everything is alright, that'll do. Billy will get his identification, and he's free to go. Believe it or not, we also want this mess to finish, once and for all."

Steve is hesitant, but, really, what choice do they have?

Billy's nodding.

"Okay. Okay, Dr. Owens. When and where should we meet?"

They agree for Steve to call Owens again in a week and decide on the meeting place.

"Good bye, Dr. Owens."

Steve can see that Billy is not very happy with this conversation.

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all."

"It's fine, Steve. What other options do I have anyway? I'm a dead man according to the system. I need the fucking papers. I can't get them without the fucking government."

"Yeah, yeah I know. But hey, I still think Owens is a good one."

"We'll see, Harrington. It's fine. Thanks for making that call."

Steve's still doubtful that it was a wise move, but he's honestly trying to help.

"What are you going to do for the rest of the day, Harrington?"

"Well I .. I need to call my mom? Check on her and kinda find out about their plans .. make sure they aren't gonna make a surprise visit here. And then, go grocery shopping. Can't take you with me, but uh .. tell me what you maybe need .. or want?"

"Steve, everything is fine, I don't need anything. I think I'm gonna go nap now. Do you wanna watch a movie later?"

"Sure. Sure, what do you have in mind?"

"What's new?"

They end up spending the afternoon and the evening cooking dinner together and watching "Back to the future" and re-watching "The Terminator" cause, apparently, they both like it, and Steve is enjoying it all so much, because he hasn't spent a day like that in a long, really long time. Also, he sort of has a suspicion Billy is enjoying himself as well, and it's not even awkward between them,

and this is strange, because if Steve recalls high school correctly, it was so strange, like Billy was out to get him and Steve was annoyed by it, and if you asked him about Hargrove he'd just say that he hated that loud Californian fuck, but in reality, and that's something he would've never told anyone, Steve sort of enjoyed his attention. Add in there those couple of times with those couple of dreams when he might've woken up with a situation in his underwear cause he ..

He really shouldn't think about it now.

Before going to bed Billy says to Steve

"Good night, man. Tomorrow we are closing that fucking portal." He's yawning and stretching and Steve still can't believe Hargrove's turned into some kind of a superhero.

***

In the early morning Old Joe calls and catches Steve on the doorstep leaving for work. He says everything is definitely not as bad as it was the previous time. They'll need two weeks, maybe two and a half, tops.

It's good news. Other good news is that Steve's parents are not planning on visiting their son for quite some time, and Steve was relieved to hear that yesterday.

Tonight they are having plans. Big plans. If he's honest with himself, Steve has been feeling so .. alive. Ever since this mess with the camaro started, and then with the hope that resident asshole Billy H. is somewhere out there, Steve's never felt lonely, or without a purpose, or like he was just wasting his life away.

***

They drive to the ruins of Starcourt after dark has set down. Billy is amazing. He throws his hand out and the air is charged with electricity, high voltage, skull and crossed bones, and

he does close the portal.

And even though he collapses on the ground right after it and Steve has to literally drag him to the beamer and inside the house to the couch again, Billy is still fucking gorgeous.

That night Steve dreams of the school basketball court and feels Hargrove's hot sweaty body pressing into his.

***

The next couple of weeks it's quiet. They get some kind of a routine going, and Steve would lie if he said he wasn't in a hurry to get home every evening. Robin's onto him and thinks he's got a girlfriend. Steve just surrounds himself with mystery and tells Robin that he can't go to the movies with her tonight, again, "Sorry Rob, some family business."

Everything is quiet and calm, and nothing really happens except their meeting with Owens. In a diner outside Hawkins, Billy's wearing a beanie and sunglasses on an absolutely sunless day, just like in spy movies, Steve's nervous, but everything goes well. Probably because they look like two teenage dumbasses "Just avoid using the word hypothetically, Steve." - "Shut up, Hargrove." and Owens understands no-one is flayed here anymore. Billy gets the whole shebang of brand new documents, and he's a free bird.

The camaro gets fixed, and when Steve brings her back, they celebrate. They are sitting in the car, shooting the shit, one of old Billy's tapes playing, and Billy smokes his first cigarette after July the 4th. He even gets through one bottle of beer and hugs Harrington before going to the guest room for the night "C'mere, man. Fucking thank you." His words are a bit slurry and eyes teary, and Steve melts into that brief hug although it's just a usual bro hug and he can't read too much into that, otherwise he won't be able to sleep tonight so he just says "See you in the morning, Billy" and watches Hargrove turn his broad back and close the door to the guest room. Billy's been gaining his weight back, and he just keeps looking better every day.

In the morning Steve's coming down to the smell of coffee in the kitchen. Billy's sitting at the table crunching on cereal. They exchange morning pleasantries and then Billy says

"Hey, Steve. I think I have to .. I have to go see my father."

To be continued

#billy's camaro #billy's camaro fic #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years

Text

Love Is

There are some logical things Steve should do immediately after the world gets saved by El in November of 1984 and they meet again at the Byers' house. This concussed, bloodied and beaten Steve who's just breathed in tons of toxic spores and was ready to die protecting Dustin from a pack of demodogs, all that while nonchalantly breaking up with his beloved girlfriend for her own good and giving her a green light for her new relationship, this Steve should prioritize some self-care. He should at least get his wounds properly treated or get checked for damage to his head. That is the rational approach.

But that isn't the Steve Harrington approach.

Instead of that, he wobbles towards Joyce and starts apologizing for the demodog carcass in her freezer, but also for the broken plate because he was supposed to keep an eye on things, he just can't bear to disappoint her more because she's just lost her boyfriend, he didn't know him, of course, but it doesn't matter, Steve knows what it's like to be in love and he doesn't want to imagine what she's going through, can't imagine losing that connection for good. And so he explains how sorry he is for causing more problems. Basically he apologizes for everything, for getting beaten to a pulp by Billy (who was conveniently gone when they came back, Max snickers at Billy probably walking home since she stole his car), for stuffing a dead demodog into her freezer because Dustin asked him to ("and I understand how unhygienic and disturbing that is, Mrs. Byers, I really do, but the kid seems really smart and this is so important to him, maybe I could move it to my house so you don't have to keep it here, I don't use our fridge anyway..."), for bleeding on her floor.

Joyce's mouth is agape. She is frozen in place, only her pupils move as Steve points out the plate shards, the blood, the shelves he and Billy knocked into.

Steve keeps standing there, looking at the tips of his shoes while swaying from side to side, and rambles on. "I'm so sorry for your plate Mrs. Byers, I didn't mean to shatter it, I mean it wasn't me who did that but it shattered over my face so I still kind of am at fault, I will clean that in a second if you can just point me to a broom...also there might be some more damage to your house, I'm pretty sure Max - you know, the ginger girl - created a few holes in your floor and I'll figure out how to fix that, to be fair I think it was needed in that moment but I understand if you're angry about that, the blood will hopefully come off if I get to it soon, I will also get you new plates or-!"

And Joyce's eyes grow glassy, she can't imagine why this boy would be so concerned for her house when he looks like he might faint any second, when he just protected all her son's friends while hardly able to stand. She just mutters "screw this house and the plates" and pulls Steve into a hug. It's messy, sticky (Joyce is still sweaty from exorcising the Mindflayer from Will and Steve is covered in crusts of blood, soil and indescribable stuff from the Upside Down), but it's perfect.

Steve doesn't understand what's happening, probably wouldn't understand even if he was in his right mind, but he returns the hug and Joyce keeps whispering to him "you did so well, you basically accomplished a miracle, thank god you were here, Steve, those kids are so lucky to have you on their side".

When he untangles himself from Joyce's arms and tries to reassure her that he's (probably) going to be fine, Hopper appears behind him, trying to give El at least a shred of privacy to reconnect with Mike. "You really did well, kid," he smiles at Steve and grasps his shoulder. "I'll ask you about the details in a while, I would very much like to know everything about who did this because there is a file just begging to be opened...hell, I might even come to work on time tomorrow. But first..."

He looks to the side and Steve just now notices Joyce standing there with a first aid kit. "Oh yes, please check on the kids," he nods and wobbles to the side. "Wheeler got grabbed by one of those tentacle things and his ankle might be bruised or something, I mean he walks fine but I'd still rather-"

But Hopper isn't having any of it. "Sit," he orders and there is no question, no maybe in his tone. Steve does as he's told and, as he's taking a deep breath, gets interrupted again. "And shut up for a moment, it'll do your jaw some good. The others are okay," Hopper adds when he sees the uneasy glance towards the living room. "Unlike you. You know, you didn't have to do what you did. That makes it even more...commendable," he grumbles and grabs the disinfection from the first aid kit, checks under the colorful band aids on Steve's face.

Joyce is by his side, preparing band aids more appropriate to the size of Steve's injuries, and hums in agreement. "Very commendable. I would also say reckless, but I don't think any of us were...how do I say it...careful?"

"Not stupid," Hopper huffs again and finishes taking care of Steve's cuts. "Now, Harrington, right? Get some rest and I will pay you a visit tomorrow to ensure this," he gestures vaguely to his face, "doesn't happen again."

As Steve nods, quietly thanks them and turns to leave, he hears Joyce clear her throat. "Um...Steve. I don't mean to pry, but are your parents home?"

He shakes his head, as gently as possible to avoid any more pain. "No. They...I think they're on dad's business trip or...something." He honestly doesn't know and doesn't care, it's not like their presence would change anything. "Don't worry Mrs. Byers, I think this," he points to his bruised face, "will go away before they decide to come back. They won't know anything."

Joyce just groans and closes her eyes. "I'll pretend I just didn't hear that," she mutters before looking back at Steve, pointing towards the couch. "Then you're staying here for the night. You got hit in the head, Steve. You need someone with you just in case. The couch is not the most comfortable one in existence, but if anything happens, I'll be nearby. I probably won't sleep anyway, so it's not like you'll be any extra work," she adds. Her smile is tired, tense, she is exhausted but determined to see that Will is okay and will remain to be. "I'll get you some clothes and blankets."

Hopper shushes Steve when he begins to protest. "Now that's a wise woman. Don't tell her I said that. But she's right, you're in no condition to drive and I'll sleep much better if I know no one's going to wake me up in two hours to report a concussed teenager crashing into a tree. So, you're under house arrest until," he ponders, stroking his mustache, "let's say nine. I will stop by and check on you."

Steve still feels sore as Jonathan hands him a clean t-shirt and sweatpants and gently directs him to the bathroom, making sure three times that the size is okay with him.

He feels his heart aching from the recent breakup as Nancy takes over preparing the couch and creates a mountain of pillows so he doesn't suffocate in his sleep if anything happens, then squeezes his hand and thanks him for saving her brother from his own recklessness.

He definitely still feels confused when Dustin ponders for a moment before leaving, reaches out as if to shake Steve's hand and then just hugs Steve, arms tight around his waist. "Thank you for everything, Steve. You're really cool, you know," he smiles at him and demands that Hopper brigs him along the following day to verify what Steve remembers from his fight with Billy.

But most of all, he feels more loved than he has in his whole life. He thinks it might just be the potential concussion, gratefulness and possible guilt that will eventually fade away, so he tries his best not to get used to the feeling, not to expect anything. He closes his eyes, buries his aching head in the pillow mountain and falls asleep.

During the night, he sometimes hears soft steps, even imagines feeling gentle fingers on his forehead. He feels safe.

In the morning, Joyce brings him a glass of juice and some light food he can stomach, her small hands pushing his chest back to lie down when he tries to at least help with the dishes. He feels cared for.

Six minutes after nine, Hopper announces himself with three sharp knocks. He greets Joyce and immediately walks to Steve, checking on him and jotting down some notes on the damage he sustained. He feels protected.

Dustin doesn't arrive with Hopper ("he needs the sleep and I told him so yesterday, the kid is too nosy for his own good"), but the small gremlin arrives shortly afterwards on his bike. He's breathless, but when he barges in and sees Steve sitting up and talking to Hopper, his face breaks out into a wide smile. "You're fine!" he yells and, after being shushed by the whole household, tiptoes to check on Will. He's back in a few minutes, sitting down next to Steve. Hopper seems dangerously close to strangling him, especially when Dustin starts reenacting the fight with Billy, but Steve is smiling and ruffles Dustin's hair from time to time. He still feels loved.

And to Steve's surprise, that feeling doesn't go away. Dustin keeps checking on him, finding the weirdest pretenses to stop by, once claiming he'd like to swim in the pool in late November. He becomes a constant in Steve's life and soon he's driving Dustin to school, chatting with him about anything and everything. Friendships have never been this easy.

He sees El a few weeks later when Hopper asks him to stop by to discuss the next steps regarding Billy. She checks his face, now mostly healed, and reaches out to grasp his hand. "You saved Mike. Thank you." She stops for a moment, thinking, and then adds. "If he hurts you again, I will break his legs."

Max comes to thank him when he drops charges against Billy after a quiet agreement between both parties, no charges, also no mention of Max stabbing a needle in Billy's neck. "You're cool, you know," she tells him, giving him one of her rare smiles. "I thought you were insane back at the junkyard...but Dustin was right. It was really cool."

Lucas and Mike come to him some days, bringing leftover food from Karen Wheeler. She knows his parents are never home and now that Nancy spends so much time at Joyce's house, there is always some food to give away. Steve might no longer be with Nancy, but Karen has known him for over a year and her care doesn't end with a breakup. Lucas is clear with his affection, openly acknowledging they'd all be dead if Steve wasn't with them that night. Mike scoffs and complains about being used as a food delivery service, but Lucas just laughs and nudges Mike's side. "Don't mind him," he says to Steve quietly so that Mike doesn't hear him, "he likes you too. He even reminded his mom when she forgot to give him today's box."

Steve doesn't have a romantic relationship anymore. He doesn't even try to find one in the last year at school, settling into his new routine instead. But despite falling asleep alone and pushing away all interested girls in the Hawkins High, he has never felt more loved.

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