#billy’s mom getting it when billy did something ‘out of line’

[ickypuppi3]

i have some thoughts

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

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"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in  his thoughts about  Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote  freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! Can I please request Older! Eddie x Harrington/Hargrove! Reader that’s angst to fluff? Maybe they met at a bar where reader went after a fight with his dad and she didn’t like Eddie at first and was kinda mean to him, but then, she realized he’s actually a good guy and started dating (maybe Reader has daddy issues?? You can also add more about her relationship with her dad!)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻

Daddy issues

Y/N and her dad butt heads a lot. Her mom likes to say it's because they are the same person, both hotheads. Billy had a massive short temper and he passed that to his daughter. Now he knew what it was like to fight with himself.

Y/N sighed as she sat at the bar. Her head pounded from all the screaming that happened just minutes ago. She ordered a drink and patiently waited for the bartender to make it.

"Rough night?" A voice next to her asked

She rolled her eyes and turned her head. The stranger was attractive, but she was not in the mood to talk to anyone.

"Yes" She kept her answer short and her tone sharp

The drink was placed before her, and she sipped on the strong liquor. She closed her eyes as the drink traveled and released her stress.

"Want to talk about it?" the stranger asked

"Talk about my daddy issues with a strange man? Yeah no thanks." she scoffed, taking another sip. She kept her face straight forward.

"I know more about daddy issues than you think"

She turned her head, eyes slint into a glare. "How old are you?" He didn't look old, but he didn't look that young either. His eyes were mature, his cheeks and jaw covered in a scruffy beard. He seemed to have long hair, but it was pulled back in a low bun. His hands were stained dirty, she figured he had a hands-on job.

"Forty," He said as he sipped his beer

She had to admit he was damn hot for being older

"You are forty, here alone and trying to give advice to a twenty-something-year-old about daddy issues, yeah. You seem like the perfect person to get advice from." She scoffed

The stranger just chuckled to himself

"Bitchy aren't ya?" He said, a smirk on his face that Y/N found attractive

"Sorry, rough night." She mumbled a small smile sent his way

"Eddie," he said as he held out his hand

She raised an eyebrow at his hand and laughed a little. "Handshake? You are old" but she placed her hand in his and her name on her lips.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he said, and Y/N loved the way her name sounded on his tongue.

For the rest of her drink, she vented about her fight with her dad. Eddie listened and actually listened. She realized how nice it felt to talk to someone who wasn't her mom, someone who wouldn't stand up for her dad. Eddie agreed and stood up for her, and she liked that.

She bid goodbye as she paid the bartender. But Eddie was on her mind all night.

~~~

She waited two days before she went back to the bar. This time, no fight with her dad. She simply wanted to see if Eddie would be there.

She walked in, disappointed when he wasn't anywhere to be seen. She was here so she figured she might as well get a drink.

She sat at the same spot she did when she met him. She ordered the same drink and watched the crowd.

"Back again? What did he do this time?"

She smiled when she heard his voice, his warm body sat next to hers.

"Nah, just wanted to be out of the house" she lied, a friendly smile on her face as she turned to look at him. This time his hair was down, landing a little past his shoulders. He wore a flannel that did wonders to his arms and dark jeans.

"Do you come here often?" She asked, immediately cringing at how it sounded like a horrible pickup line.

He smirked and chuckled at the question

"I didn't mean it like that!" She defended, "Just like how common is it for you to be here?"

"Ah right right," he said as he winked. She felt her face blush as he quickly ordered his drink with his eyes still on her. "I do come here pretty often."

She hated how excited that made her. And how her brain was already planning to come here every week to see a glimpse of him.

"Good to know" she flirted, a small smirk of her own before it disappeared behind her glass

Eddie felt like he was back in high school with a crush on a pretty popular girl. He smiled towards the counter before he sipped on his beer.

"Which is how I know you don't come here often. Does this place make a good impression?" He asked. He was more than glad to walk through the doors and see her sitting there. He cursed himself all night last time for not getting her number.

"Not quite the place, but someone," she said, shyly looking towards him. She wasn't sure where the top-notch flirting skills came from, probably in her blood from her father. But damn was she glad it seemed to work.

Throughout the night Eddie's body got closer and closer. They practically were sitting on the same stool by the end of the night. She stopped after the one drink, knowing she needed to drive home. But she felt so drunk the harder he made her laugh.

"You have a pretty laugh" he complimented, his eyes soft as he took in her face

"Oh thank you" she blushed under the bar lights. "You are pretty in general" she blabbed out.

She closed her eyes in embarrassment as he laughed. Standing up, but still between his legs. Maybe she wasn't as good as her dad was with this flirting thing.

"I am honored that the pretty girl thinks I'm pretty. I don't think I've ever been called that before." He admitted, he made the next move and slipped his arms around her waist.

She felt her heart speed up as she nervously looked at him. She swallowed her nerves and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're welcome" she whispered, her breath caught in her throat as her face was so close to his. She could smell the beer on his breath and the wetness on his lips was calling to her.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked, his eyes dancing between her eyes and lips.

She nodded, not sure if she could trust her voice

"Can I kiss you?"

Did she want her first kiss with Eddie to be in a dingy bar? Hell yeah, she didn't care where it was. Just as long as she tasted his lips and tongue.

She didn't answer, just leaned in and smashed her lips on his. He moaned at the force and kissed her back. He melted from the confidence she had as she tangled her hand in his hair and kissed him hard.

Now he felt like a middle schooler having his first kiss. The way she knocked the air out of his lungs, butterflies flying in his damn stomach. He kissed her back, squeezing her hips as he tried to gain control of the kiss.

He swiped his tongue across her bottom lip, smiling to himself as she opened her mouth. His tongue slipped inside her warm mouth, he could taste her fruity drink as their tongues worked against each other.

Y/n felt like she was standing on fire, a burning feeling from her toes up to her head. Her knees felt weak as a chill ran down her spine. His hand moved down from her hips to cup her ass. She moaned as he massaged her through her jeans.

She pulled away, panting as she gazed into his eyes. She wanted more but needed to pull away before they got carried away in the public eye.

"Thank god your dad is an asshole," Eddie joked, trying to seem like that kiss didn't take him to another world.

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, wanna get out of here? Your place, where we can be alone," she whispered, teasing his lips as hers rested right above his.

"Absolutely" he smiled cheekily, grabbing her hand and walking them out of the bar.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[seeingivy]

brutal

eren jaeger x f!reader

**part of my canary mate fic

previous part linked here

--

[busstopbilly]: My song recommendation for the day is brutal by Olivia Rodrigo. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i beg ur pardon….

[lizontopoftheworld]: first of all. CRAZY choice for 7:47 am. who hurt you? 

[busstopbilly]: Car troubles. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: second. how do u know this song…. do u talk to other girls…. 

[busstopbilly]: Does my little sister count? She’s the one who told me about the song. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: ok period never mind. so she’s basically a real one for 1. listening and 2. putting you on 

[busstopbilly]: Would it bother you if I did? 

[busstopbilly]: Talk to other girls? 

[busstopbilly]: :) 

that was always the line that the two of you toed. on a day to day basis – making jokes about the one thing that you never seemed to talk about. 

that things, at least on your end, felt dangerously real at times. that when someone at the bar asked you if you were seeing anyone, your first thought would always be yes. because it felt wrong to say no. 

you were convinced that if you knew him in person, he’d be your boyfriend. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: DO YOU? 

[busstopbilly]: I can say it again. Would it bother you if I did? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: tbh wait

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re obviously your own person. i was obviously just joking AND if you are talking to someone else it wouldn’t bother me. that doesn’t affect the fact that we’re friends and talk to each other here and there AND i would be very happy for you if you did because you deserve it 

that was the other thing. anonymity always presented a certain fear. that one day, he would stop responding. 

and that he’d be lost to you forever because you’d never be able to find him again. no identifying features, a vague username, and the conversations left as a reminder. 

[busstopbilly]: Wow. It usually takes the 3 o’clock slump to get you rambling about how we as people are deserving of the good, honest love. What gives? 

[busstopbilly]: For what it’s worth, no, I do not talk to other girls. Besides my sister and my mom, obviously. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: YIPEEEEEE 

[busstopbilly]: What happened to “that wouldn’t bother me”? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: ….next question. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: your sister seems cool. can i meet her someday? 

[busstopbilly]: Hilarious. 

[busstopbilly]: Yes, you can. 

you’re thrown out of the conversation by three consecutive honks – and sasha waving her arm out the car door – as you shoot one last message. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: my ride is here! have a great day billy boy :D 

you close your phone as you climb into sasha’s car, noting the two iced coffee cups in the holder, as you shoot her a smile. 

sasha offers to drop you off at the hospital on the way to the lab. 

it’s something that she does often – suggest that you run errands with her, study with her at the cafe, walk together to the lab. there’s moments where you feel bad about it, that she dictates the friendship so much, because you’re never one to suggest it at first. 

it’s not your fault that this aspect of friendship felt like it was foreign to you. or that it seemed like something you’d never be able to overcome. 

you didn’t grow up with friends that functioned like family. they always felt more transactional – though that was almost by design, on your part. 

“good morning sash.” 

“nico made you a coffee!” 

you smile. 

“awful kind of him.” 

sasha gives you a smile as she hunches over the wheel, looking over her shoulder, as she turns on to the street. 

“he just feels bad about the party you know…when he…” 

“threw up all over my shoes? yeah. i recall.” 

“he’s sorry! and he made you a sweet iced hazelnut coffee to make up for it.” 

you smile, shaking your head as you reach for the aux cord in her car. 

sasha had a penchant for being indecisive, a little bit too stuck in the situation sometimes, down to the details. you knew deep down that niccolo probably didn’t care much about the vomit and hadn’t thought about it since – and that she was trying to save imaginary face by gifting you a coffee in his name. 

it was hard for her to participate in things normally, in her words, with people who felt like they were high stakes. 

it was one of the reasons that she loved to hang out with you. she said it was easy to tell that you didn’t care much about that type of thing in the first place.

you wondered if it was a compliment – that you were so palatable to people’s taste. or a comment on how you felt so adaptable that there was nothing rigid or cemented about your personality to warrant a second thought.

“oh wait. this is an olivia rodrigo song right?” sasha asks. 

“yeah.” 

“aren’t her songs like…like really sad?” 

“i guess. a good amount of them are.” 

“i hate sad music. it just makes me so….so…” 

you try not to laugh. 

“sad?” 

sasha rolls her eyes. 

“you know what i mean. i listen to the song and then i start thinking about how i relate to it. and then i start wallowing.” sasha comments. 

“i do that too.” 

“god, isn’t it such a waste of time? sometimes it’s like…so overwhelming that it takes over my entire day. i can’t do anything but sit there and just feel it all.” 

and there was the key difference between you and sasha. it always made itself apparent, in almost every interaction that you had with her, but it said more about the way your rotten mind was wired to work, than her temperament. 

she seemed to repel the idea of sadness. you wallowed in it.

it was something that you thought about often when you looked at sasha. when you looked at yourself in the mirror. that her smile seemed to fit perfectly on her face – bright brown eyes that lit up whenever she talked, two dimples that were always visible on her cheeks, and an infectious smile.  

sometimes you felt like light didn’t fully reach the center of your eyes. that your smile didn’t look right on your face – that it did, but it just didn’t look like hers. infectious. encouraging and warm. 

that sadness sat in all of your wrinkles and lines and that it was there to stay. that no matter how you tried, it would always be there. 

“yeah. i’ll change it. bad start to the morning.” you state. 

“plus, you need all the luck you can get.” 

you groan. 

“don’t remind me please.” 

eren didn’t seem too happy to have you involved in his project. and that made two of you. 

you could appreciate that he was organized – scheduling mandatory meetings a week in advance, letting you bring his undergrad since he was bringing his – and never sparing you a second glance beside it. 

what you couldn’t appreciate was that he didn’t seem to want your help at all. you understand why it was warranted, especially for someone like him. you knew for a fact that he would have zero shred of bedside manner, no way to interact with patients that was sensitive or appropriate – since he couldn’t even seem to do it with normal people. 

making comments about jean and sasha, refusing to talk to anyone besides levi and hange at dinners, being so arrogant about the entire thing that he thought he was above it. 

you wonder how him and grisha jaeger were even related. 

you reach for the coffee, trying to banish the thought and the impending irritation that arose from the thought of both of them combined, just for it to consequently spill all over your top. 

“oh my god.” 

one of the ice cubes slithers all the way down the bottom of your shirt, landing in your lap, as you miserably eye the horrendous dark brown stain coating your white button up shirt. it sends a wave of goosebumps down your skin – the stickiness of the syrup and the ice cold liquid, as you can’t help but groan. 

sometimes it felt like these types of things only happened to you. 

“sasha.” 

“he must have not closed the lid properly. he didn’t do it on purpose!” 

you turn to glare at her. 

“i mean, obviously not. do you have napkins? or a spare shirt by the grace of god?” 

“napkins are in front in the glove box. and no…niccolo just took all my shirts out the other day so he could wash them.” 

you give her a wry smile. 

“of course he did.” you joke. 

“i swear to god. he didn’t mean it!”

the napkins do little to fix the mark – except smear it farther across the fabric – as you give her a dry laugh. 

“i know. relax.” 

“you’re not mad right?” 

“no. just anticipating some comment from eren about dress code and professionalism, that’s all. if anything, that makes my entire thing easier since he can’t pick on something else i was doing wrong that i was seemingly blissfully unaware of.” 

you give up after two minutes of dabbing, most of the wetness drained from the shirt and the stick gone from your sing, as you turn to sasha. 

“what are you going to work on today?” 

“mikasa’s project. well mine, but hers, you know?” 

“yeah. does she at least seem excited about it?” 

“i mean, it’s insane experience to have as a project lead. i don’t know why she wouldn’t get in the next time.” 

“that’s true. plus, six spots and none of the people in the program are affiliated with the lab so, she has a good shot.” 

“i just hope she gets it. i would end up on the news if i got rejected as second time after putting in all that work.” 

sasha rolls right up to the front of the hospital – and you note that she awkwardly eyes the stain – as you give her a smile. you can see eren sitting at the front bench, gabi and falco sitting by his side, as you swallow down the contempt in your mouth.

you clear your throat, catching all of their attention, as you note all of their expressions. gabi and falco have a total pinch of pity in both of their eyes and eren just looks irritated as they eye the stain.

“you have to be kidding, right?” eren asks. 

“sasha drove me here and her…boyfriend didn’t put the lid on the coffee properly. it’s not my fault.” 

“do you have another shirt?” eren asks. 

“obviously not. you think i’d show my face before his excellency without it?” you ask. 

that earns you a laugh from falco and gabi, who you turn to give a smile to, before looking back to eren. he rolls his eyes, making a dramatic show of pinching the bridge of his nose, as he digs into his pocket. 

“this is your badge. maybe we can get you one of those bright pink shirts from the gift shop.” 

“eren. don’t be a dick. just give her your shirt.” gabi states. 

erwin had decided to pair gabi with eren and falco with you, just based on compatibility and interests, and it was one of the reasons that you had utter faith in erwin as a leader. 

gabi had a penchant to keep eren on his toes. she wasn’t exactly afraid of his bitter personality, but instead, very eager to win him over. 

it reminded you of when you first met eren and thought you could do the same. though unlike gabi, you quickly decided that it was a lost cause. 

“what?” 

“you’re wearing an undershirt, aren’t you? just give her the button up.” gabi states. 

“gabi. wearing a short sleeved t-shirt here isn’t exactly professional.” eren responds. 

“you know what’s even more unprofessional? letting one of your team members look bad when you can help them. no offense, y/n.” 

you smile. 

“none taken.” 

“they’re going to give us white coats that’ll cover up your arms. but it won’t cover up the stain, so just be a gentleman, and give her your shirt.” gabi states. 

eren gives her a menacing glare – though you think that he just looks like that, that it can’t intentionally be by design to look so hateful all the time – while he ponders the thought. he must have a soft spot for gabi or something, probably something that reminds him of the sister you’ve heard briefly about, as he reaches down and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

“falco, gabi. go check in at the desk at the front.” 

you watch as the two of them scuttle off, giggling under their breaths as they run through the round-a-bout doors. you turn to eren, who hands you the shirt, as you shoot him a smile. 

“thank you, eren. i really appreciate it.” 

“next time, anticipate being prepared.” 

you roll your eyes. was it impossible for him to be polite? 

“do you want me to carry a spare of every article of clothing for me in the off chance that i spill something on myself?” 

“off chance is a little kind. it literally happened just now.” eren mutters. 

you bite down on your cheek as you put his shirt on, tucking in the excess fabric into your pants. you unclip his badge from the shirt and hand it over to him, as the two of you join falco and gabi at the elevators. 

eren clears his throat as the four of you enter the elevator, shooting gabi a look, as she drops her conversation. you turn to falco and give him an eye roll – your frustrations with eren well known to him – as falco steps back and joins you. 

“gabi. what’s a lesion?” 

“areas of damaged brain tissue. all the patients we’re seeing today got their brain lesions from injuries that they got, but you can also get lesions from certain diseases.” gabi repeats. 

you hate that eren does this. makes her learn through fear of disappointing him. falco told you that she spent all of her free time outside of the fellowship memorizing as much as she could to make sure that she would get all of his questions right. 

“what region are we looking at today?” eren asks.

“hippocampus this week. amygdala next week, but there’s a focus on the temporal lobe.” 

you spare yourself as you tap falco on the shoulder, lowering your voice. 

“how’s your brother doing?” 

falco gives you a shrug, as you reach forward and squeeze his shoulder. two week ago, you gave him the entire week off because his brother got into a car accident – and from what levi had told you, he had yet to recover. 

“same old.” 

“if you need anything, can you let me know?” you ask. 

falco awkwardly reaches for the back of his neck, pushing down the ends of his hair, as you exit the elevator. 

“i’ll let you know, okay?” 

you give him a nod as you catch up to eren and gabi, the two of them holding out the white coats to you as you pull them on and walk into the briefing meeting. 

--

the day goes well for the most part. you’re counting your lucky stars through the training that it’s mostly basic procedures, sanitation rules and the such, and you’re just going through the motions. 

it goes well for the most part, until the very end. and it’s almost like you can anticipate it – eren having a horrible interaction with someone that would put you off – that it’s almost laughable. 

you interact with one patient at the end of the day, just to screen if they wanted to participate in eren’s study. and of course, he has to push the limits and ask a question that goes too far. 

it just bothers you that it was gabi on the chopping block. 

“okay, the patient’s name is gabriela alvarez. she’s from the area, she got injured in a motor cycle accident. her family isn’t here since they all had work, so it’ll just be her. we’re just going to walk in, ask her if she wants to participate in the study, and then fill out screening forms. if she declines, we’ll just leave.” 

you all give him a nod. 

“gabi. what is it?” eren asks. 

“what? nothing.” gabi responds. 

“you made a face when i just said that. is there a problem?” eren asks. 

you hate the tone. he could have just asked her if something was wrong – not insinuating that she had a problem. 

“no, eren. i’m good. i’ve just never done this before.” gabi states. 

“don’t worry. that’s why y/n and falco are here. they have experience with this type of thing.” eren states. 

you and falco turn towards gabi, giving her a smile. 

“we can lead for this one if you wanted? just so you could see how it goes?” you ask.

gabi shakes her head, immediately turned off by the thought, as she gives you both a halfhearted smile back. 

“no, no. i got it, i’m here for a reason.” 

you swallow down the retort as the group of you walk in. that her not taking the lead wouldn’t insinuate that she wasn’t meant to be here. that she could learn without being put on the spot.

despite the fact, eren seems to lead the entire thing. gabi doesn’t have to worry about talking, because eren barely lets her get a word in – with a prerehearsed spiel you’re convinced he practiced in the mirror. 

“we would really appreciate if you could participate in the study. it’s totally optional, but it would really help us better understand the nature of the injury and help other people in the future.” eren finishes. 

arrogance. 

the lady’s barely forty years old, a kind smile like sasha’s – sweetness that melted into her skin – and it made your chest pang that she seemed confused. sitting in a hospital room, alone. listening to people like eren jabber all day, with no one to consult or talk to for advice. 

and there’s silence, an awkward silence where she’s supposed to respond, and after the fact, she turns to look at gabi. 

“you guys would take my information?” she asks.

“it’s all removed when we analyze it.” gabi offers. 

“but…but there would be record of all my information and such that i did it?” 

gabi sighs. 

“no one can have access to it. it’s just so that we note down who did the experiment, that the results weren’t falsified.” 

gabriella seemes turned off by the idea entirely, shaking her head. 

“i would love to help, but…but you know i can’t.” 

you watch as she bores her eyes into gabi’s – and shockingly enough – that she reaches forward and grabs her hand. 

“i know. i’ll talk to them about it. i’ll see you later, okay?” she murmurs, quiet enough that you can barely hear it. 

eren turns to you, giving you a questioning look, as you shrug. the four of you subsequently leave the room and eren doesn’t waste a single second in the hallway. 

“do you know her?” eren asks. 

gabi gives him a nod, barely meeting his eye. 

“yeah. yeah, she’s friends with my mom. they’ve known each other for a while.” 

“so you know why she won’t do it?” eren asks. 

you nudge him in the side. 

“you can’t coerce people into participating, eren.” you note. 

“i’m not coercing her. i just want to know so that we can keep it in mind for future patients. change up how i market the entire thing. why won’t she do it?” eren asks. 

you watch as gabi gives him a nervous look, eyes flickering in between him and falco, as she scrunches up her shoulders. 

“gabi. you obviously don’t have to answer. don’t feel the need to share anything too personal.” you offer. 

gabi gives you a smile before turning back to eren and it’s almost like you can see it in her face. that she’s folding. 

“she met my mom through the church that we go to. she also gave my mom a contact for an agent that can help her apply for...citizenship. she’s undocumented, like my mom is, and that’s why she won’t do it. if the reviewers look into the validity of the study and look into her status, she…” 

“they wouldn’t do that.” eren offers, voice almost quiet. 

gabi sighs. you swear there’s a glistening sheen in her eyes. 

“i know. but she doesn’t know that. there’s a fear that comes with this type of thing and…” 

it hits a nerve. it hits a nerve and you think it’s horrible – you think eren’s horrendous for putting her on the spot like that, for questioning her further – and you hate him for it. 

“okay, gabi. well, we’re done for the day anyways, so do you want to go get the car?” eren asks, holding the keys out in front of her.

she gives eren a smile, as she nods and takes them from him. you turn to falco, giving him a beckon to follow her, as he shoots you a grateful smile and speed walks behind her. the two of you watch as they wave from behind the elevator, before you note the empty hallway, and turn back to eren. 

“you’re an asshole.” you state. 

eren looks up from the file in his hand, eyes wide, as he looks up at you. 

“i beg your pardon?” 

“i know you heard me. you’re an asshole. you had no right to push her into sharing something that was obviously personal for her. and you have no right to be so hard on her all the time.” 

eren flips the folder shut, tucking it under his elbow, as he digs his hands into the pockets of his white coat. you can tell that he’s irritated – that he can’t hide the malice in his eyes – and it drives you insane. 

that he still has the audacity to be mad. 

“i’m hard on her?” he asks. 

“of course you’re hard on her. she spends all of her free time memorizing useless facts that teach her shit about what it’s like to do research. you should be supporting her, asking her questions that encourage her to explore what it is that we’re doing on our own, why we made the experiment the way that we did. you have to know that this does nothing for her.” 

eren rolls her eyes. 

“and you want me to do what? coddle her like you coddle falco?” 

“excuse me?” 

“you don’t need to walk him through every line of code that he writes. he can find articles to read and explore on his own, you’re setting him up with bad expectations that he’s going to find easy help when he has to do this on his own.” 

“is there something so wrong with that? getting help? god forbid i give him a good foundation on the things he has to know before putting him in the deep end.” 

eren rolls his eyes. 

“being helpless is how you learn.” 

you glare at him. 

“you might get off on that type of thing, but i certainly don’t.” 

“what type of thing?” 

you sigh, balling your fists at your side, as you try to stop your voice from wavering. 

“she’s been trying to vye for your approval since she met you – and…and you kept asking. you made her feel like she had to give that to you, so that she could get points. it’s cruel and senseless, using something like that against someone. especially when it’s something…a situation that’s so foreign to you. you have no idea what it’s like to struggle like that. and on top of that, you’re going to be an asshole and make her get your car? so yeah, you get off on that type of thing. acting like you’re better than people, like you have a right to know, because you’re important.” 

eren sighs. 

“and what makes you think i didn’t know already?” eren asks. 

“what?” 

“i know you heard me. what makes you think that i didn’t know already? because gabi actually told me one of the first days that she got here. i’ve known for some time because she’s actually trusted me enough to tell me – not because i cornered her into it for brownie points.” 

eren seems to lean closer, looming over you as he looks down at you. 

“i don’t coddle gabi, because that’s something that doesn’t motivate her. the same way it’s something that doesn’t motivate you. i know damn well from the way you look at sasha and hange, hange and annie, that you think that it’s something you want. being buddy buddy the way hange is with us. but i’ve known from the second i met you, that you live for that type of thing. proving yourself, having to work for someone’s approval, because it won’t motivate you otherwise, the same way it won’t motivate gabi. there’s a reason that you got paired with levi, y/n. there’s a reason you’re so pissed off watching her work for it – because you have some insecure sense of self worth that you don’t deserve to be here and you’re scared she feels that way too.”  

you swallow down the bile in your throat. 

“are you watching me or something?” 

“only because you irritate me just as much as i irritate you. don’t think that i don’t turn my nose up at everything you say and that i don’t notice that you do it to me too.” eren responds. 

you bite so hard into your cheek that you swear you draw blood. 

“are you done? how long did that one take to rehearse in the mirror?” 

eren clenches his draw. 

“no. i’m not the asshole that makes his undergraduate student get his car. i got a flat tire and she offered to drive me here. i had her key, because her pants don’t have pockets.” eren responds, stalking towards the elevator, as you begrudgingly follow. 

it’s an awkward elevator ride down, completely silent until the ding, as the two of you walk out to the front of the hospital. the suns dipping down into the horizon, as gabi and falco lean against eren’s car, quietly talking. 

you give them a wave, the two of them sitting up, as you and eren walk up to them. 

“eren. can i talk to you for a second?” falco asks. 

eren gives him a nod, gesturing for him to follow towards the left, as you take falco’s spot next to gabi. you eye the two of them, noting falco’s characteristically nervous hands moving rapidly as he talks to eren. 

“what are they talking about?” you ask. 

“falco’s going to ask eren if colt can do the trial. he has lesions…or…or falco thinks he might, he just can’t remember right.” 

you look over at him. 

“he isn’t getting any better is he?” 

gabi shakes her head. 

“falco says that colt doesn’t even remember him.” 

you nod. 

“listen. i wanted to talk to you about something, if…if that’s okay.” 

gabi looks over at you, eyes expectant as you look down at the uneven gravel. 

“my mom recently got her citizenship status. my dad’s is being processed right now and…and it’s because my brother married an immigration lawyer. she’s really good and…and she could help you. and i can cover it for you, if you need me to.” you state. 

“what?” 

“she is really good. i can’t promise anything but, it’s worked out well for us, if you want another opinion.” 

gabi gives you a smile, cheeks almost pink as she follows your suit, staring down at the ground. 

“i couldn’t let you pay for that.” 

“she owes me a favor…and she’s my sister. i know we don’t know each other that well but, i…i get that this type of thing can….i don’t know.” 

you pause. 

“i just want you to enjoy your summer here so that you can see if research is your thing, no stress. i know it can be a lot at times.” 

gabi gives you a smile. 

“i’ll think about it, okay?” 

“please don’t hesitate, okay?” 

“i won’t.” 

eren and falco trail back to the two of you – falco and gabi giving each other a smile – as you turn to look at eren. 

“i want my shirt back tomorrow.” eren states, giving you a glare. 

“i’ll dry clean it for you, your highness.” you respond, giving it right back. 

“do you need a ride, y/n?” falco asks. 

you turn to him, giving him a smile, as you nod. the two of you trail into the parking lot, as you quietly sink into falco’s passenger seat, and nearly pull at the front strands of your hair. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you gave me a bad omen. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: truly is brutal out here. 

[busstopbilly]: Tell me about it. 

[busstopbilly]: In a shocking turn of events, the wallflower actually cussed me out today. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: HELLO? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: woah it’s been so long since i’ve heard about her. what gives? don’t tell me she did it again?

[bussstopbilly]: Oh, she definitely did. 

[busstopbilly]: I swear to god, I despise her because she’s just like everyone else. She thinks I’m exactly like my dad. It’s almost like she makes it a point to bring it up. That I don’t understand because everything came to me easily. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’re obviously not like your dad 

[lizontopoftheworld]: you’ll be out of this thing soon 

[busstopbilly]: What happened to you? 

[lizontopoftheworld]: stupid idiot asshole misogynistic ugly prick 

[busstopbilly]: But of course. 

[busstopbilly]: If it’s any solace, he only feels the need to put you down because he knows how great you are. It wouldn’t be a thing to him – he’s purposely making it into a competition becuase he feels inferior. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i guess 

[busstopbilly]: Tomorrow is another day. 

[busstopbilly]: And you shouldn’t listen to sad songs when you go home. 

[lizontopoftheworld[: BOOOOOOOOOO

[lizontopoftheworld]: but it’s so fun 

[busstopbilly]: Maybe. 

[bussstopbilly]: I just don’t want you to cry or feel like you’re defeated. I hate thinking that you’re sitting there feeling like you don’t fit in. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: i don’t 

[bussstopbilly]: And that’s a good thing. Research, that type of career – it’s already filled with monotony. 

[busstopbilly]: You make things interesting. You’re there for a reason. 

[lizontoptheworld]: you make me sound so important 

[busstopbilly]: You are important. In more ways than one, obviously. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: chronic flirt….

[busstopbilly]: It’s good for your health. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: normal people eat vitamins. or like workout or something. 

[busstopbilly]: We’re not normal people, are we?

you can’t help but smile. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: no. of course not. 

[busstopbilly]: :) 

[busstopbilly]: You and me, Liz. 

[lizontopoftheworld]: my song is ribs by lorde 

[busstopbilly]: Because I’m the only friend you need?

[lizontopoftheworld]: so observant 

[busstopbilly]: Eh. 

[busstopbilly]: Only for you.

--

an: hehe

taglist: @invisible-mori @multiplefandomthings @chericos @wheredidmycrowngo @chaoticpxnda @aizzon @stuffeddeer @butterfly-skinnylegend @najaemism @hellokitty-doll @constanciandrea @iblamesusy @jaegersdiary @f4irygard3n @misadear @fell-4-u @coyloves @sobbangchan @you-always-made-me-blush @th0tformikasa @yell0wdreams @itzmeme

[buckysgrace]

Billy Hargrove Headcanons <3

Requested <3 I hope you enjoy my ramblings!!

Was such a cute baby with lil blonde curls, rosy cheeks and a soft nose that strangers always thought he was a little girl lol

Used to love when his mama would play with his hair. He hated naps as a child, but always passed out once she'd trace her fingertips across his soft cheeks and squishy nose

His mom loved holidays. Especially Halloween and Christmas. He spent many Halloweens dressed as a lion lol

She also took him to get ice cream on his birthdays <3 His favorite was chocolate.

Was really close to his grandma up until she passed away. Used to spend long afternoons and even stay for weekends when he was little, and Neil was working.

Loooooves sports. Has played a vast majority of them (baseball is his favorite). He played a different one each season while in school to get him away from the house

Worked all throughout high school. Had a ton of odd jobs

Also loved summer camp.

Enjoys deep sea fishing. Neil did a lot of trips with him as a sort of “apology” (he caught a bluefin tuna when he was 13 hehe)

He’s very very dry, has a sarcastic sense of humor <3

When he’s high he gets very relaxed and chill, very laid back. Will occasionally get giggly

Very good with his hands. He likes to tinker with things. Worked on his car a lot, likes to build things too (had a very impressive bird house that he built in woodshop)

He loves vegetables. Specifically tomatoes and bell peppers. Bites right into them, a nice lil snack

He's up at 3 in the morning?? He is devouring a jar of pepperoncini. maybe some shredded cheese

Not crazy about sweets, but if he has to pick something it would be some sort of fruit pie?? will also pound away at a pineapple upside down cake

makes a meaaaaan spicy Italian sandwich

Also crazy about protein. He's gotta bulk up ya know. Hates eggs though. They smell terrible and the texture is awful

Really good at math, loves working with numbers. He will chew on his pencil/pen while he's working out a problem (and if he accidentally eats the eraser?? that's his own business smh)

Got a lot of college offers because of his grades and talents in sports but didn't take any of them up. College just never seemed like his thing

Will hike his swimming trunks up to get a nice even tan on his upper thighs. The cutest little tan lines imaginable.

Reads while he sits on the toilet. Also smokes (and will purposely linger in the bathroom if Max knocks on the door smh)

Horror and mystery are his favorite genres. His all time favorite book is The Haunted Dancers.

Surprisingly good with kids. They just love him, sweet Mr. Billy hehe. Babies love at him. They will stare at him and enjoy snuggling into his arms :) And chewing on his arms lmao (or tugging on his hair smh)

Haaates the winter months. He does not like the cold at all and hates bundling up in thick layers even more (he's a man damn it he doesn't need any gloves smh)

Icy roads absolutely terrified him in Hawkins. He was not used to driving on them at all. An incredible snow ball former tho (he will hit you in the face with them rip)

The first time he heard the tornado siren go off he was alone with Max and had no idea what to do (she was outside trying to see it smh)

A little rain is okay but he prefers the sunny sunshine and heat to anything else <3

[the-kr8tor]

Hie hie I love love your Hobie stories I was wondering if you could please could write something cute . So it’s about the twins asking their parents for a pet and they like seven but age is up to you and Hobie’s being all cheeky asking them if they would be good pet owners typical parent behaviour so they give them babydoll eyes to reader who can’t resist them and I guess the rest is up to you if that’s ok don’t wanna offend you in any way I love your work but if you can’t it’s no the end of the world thanks 😊

You didn't offend me dw dw! Thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, Mom! Reader, Dad! Hobie, Twin AU, Dad AU, Billie and Ramona AU, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The girls gasp simultaneously, a cute reaction that would have you smiling sweetly and cooing at them but when you followed their line of sight, you almost audibly groaned.

In each hand you have their tiny palms in yours, Ramona jumps excitedly, eyes sparkling at the luminescent fishes on display in the window of the pet shop. While Billie screeches unabashedly, the sound gets the attention of the nearby people who are coming out of the grocery store. Her hands tugs you towards the store. You swear that they've gotten stronger even though they're only five years old.

“Mummy!” Billie yells at the top of her lungs, pink trainers scrapping on the rough pavement. “They have a puppy!”

“Okay, okay, don't drag mommy around like your doll.”

Hobie chuckles behind you, hands full of groceries. You stare at him with a pout, wordlessly calling for help. He raises both hands, plastic bags crinkling, shrugging.

With a quick glare, he changes course from the teasing. “Listen to mum, Bee. Mon, your shoes are untied, you're gonna trip.”

“‘m okay!” Mona says, ribbons falling off her pigtails from all the jumping. “Can we see the fishes?” You crouch down to tie her shoes, an impossible feat while Billie tries to coax you into going inside the store.

Billie's voice triumphs over Mona's. “The dogs, mum!”

You inhale, wrangling the twins in your arms. “We'll go inside, only if you promise me to behave. And what did dad tell you last time?”

“Don't put your fingers inside the cages.” They both speak at the same time with the same flat cadence.

“And?” Hobie continues for you.

“Don't tap at the aquariums.” They simultaneously say, “can we go now?” Now their twin telepathy has you giggling and almost creeped if not for their cute faces staring at you, waiting for a response.

You decide to tease, hands holding onto their overalls. “Hmm, what do you think, dad?”

Hobie fakes a huff. “Dunno, love, these bags are heavy.”

“Dad!” Billie exclaims, stomping her little foot.

“Please, daddy?” Mona has a different plan, she pouts at Hobie, eyes all big, staring up and pleading with him.

The second Hobie nodded, you're sure that you won't be able to say no to a pet this time. You're already running out of excuses as to why they can't have one. The girls run off, leaving you in the dust.

“I'll just bring these to the car—” Hobie starts.

“Nuh uh” you grab him by his sleeve. “I need backup, I know they're gonna ask again. ‘sides, you can handle the bags, right?” Hobie scrunches his face, a resemblance of both girls when you ask them to eat their veggies. “You're my big strong spider—”

“Fine!” He says before you could finish your teasing. “I am strong.” He murmurs, pecking your cheek before following the girls inside.

“You are so strong!” Ragging him on, you race after him, quickly reciprocating the kiss by smooching his cheek with a resounding smack.

Hobie's lips curl into a sly smile, eyes roaming around the shop for his gremlins. You loop your arm around his own, carefully not adding to the weight. Hand kneading softly at his skin. He grins wider from how you lovingly hold him close.

“Ooh!” Billie's voice acts as a beacon for you and Hobie to follow. You see them both crouched down, eyes big and curious at the lonesome angel fish swimming in the tank.

“She's so pretty!” Mona adds, you're wishing that you brought your camera with you to capture the moment.

Sure enough, when you peek at the aquarium, the cobalt scales of the angelfish has you mesmerized too. “She is gorgeous.”

Both girls turn towards you simultaneously, smile all toothy with a few missing teeth in between their milk teeth. You already know what they're about to ask.

“Please?” Mona starts.

“We'll take good care of her!” Billie finishes with the perfect puppy dog eyes that you know the girls got from Hobie.

“Angelfish is a bit hard to take care of for a first pet. Maybe we should start off with a goldfish?” Hobie joins in unexpectedly, smile identical to the twins. You sometimes think it's unfair that you carried them for nine grueling months only for the girls to end up looking almost exactly like their father. This day is one of those days, because you know you cannot say no to that face. You've even joked about it to Hobie, to which he always replies with a ‘maybe the next one will look like you more.’ When you're too flabbergasted to reply, Hobie brings the other bag of groceries to his other hand to hold yours and then to bring your knuckles to his lips. You've lost, again. “Ain't that right, love?”

You sigh, surrendering to the whims of your adorable yet menace of a family. “Only if they promise to take good care of the fish.” The girls gasp, Billie even embraces Mona like they've won the war. “And it has to be a goldfish, okay?”

The girls can't hold their excitement any longer, they shriek happily, bounding over towards the goldfish section. Hobie kisses your hand again, this time longer, you can feel his smug grin through it. You shake your head with a groan, but you still peck his hand back.

“Wait, girls!” Hobie suddenly calls for them back. They both come hopping over to you. Billie and Mona getting what they want has turned them more obedient. Or they're just biased because their dad finally convinced you to agree. They look up at you sweetly, they know the effect of their cuteness, probably because of uncle Ned who gives them whatever they want if they just look at him all adorable like. “What do you say? Especially to mum?”

“Thank you, mummy!” Mona hugs your leg, while Billie joins in a second later.

Billie looks up, “kiss?” She asks, pouting her lips. No DNA test needed, definitely Hobie's kid, like there was any doubt.

“Of course, baby.” With a quick smooch, she smiles gratefully.

“Thank you, mummy, love you.” She murmurs into the denim of your pants, she's bringing out her big guns for this fish.

“I love you too!” Ramona joins in, puckering her lips too. You give her the same amount of smooch. “Thank you, love you.”

“And I love you both.”

“Okay, stop hounding mum, go pick out your fish.” Hobie pats them both on their curly heads, then both girls give him a not so sly thumbs up.

Mona gestures for her dad to lean down, Hobie obliges. She whispers in his ear but she still doesn't understand the concept of whispering so her tone is as loud as her usual one. “A doggy next time, daddy.”

Billie pipes up, of course hearing the entire thing. “Or a kitten!” You can see from Hobie's face that he wants the monitor lizard in the corner to eat him up.

Your family has played you like a fiddle.

They walk away giggling, talking about what name they should give their fish. Hobie looks back at a glaring you. “I love you so much—”

“You’re cleaning the tank.”

[billskeis]

Heyy I thought of this and its kinda weirdly specific so sorry if its weird

a fluff where reader (fem) had an 'almond mom' growing up and bill finds out she never tried any fast food and fizzy drinks so he takes her to a Mcdonalds drive through and she tries everything and really likes it and idk what else but something along these lines?

ily btw💗

ᡣ𐭩 macky’s feast endeavours

you’ve never been one to indulge into the many delicacies of food. it was always kept pretty simple, pretty plain, and most importantly; pretty small. your mom was an extreme one who’d instil the emphasis of portion control and nutritional value, none of that fast food junk. oh god no.

now it wasn’t like you totally had the worst relationship with food. you just ate it to, eat it. simply curve the natural instincts of hunger and then go on with your day.

bill had no knowledge of it, but he did have some suspicions. whenever you guys were to go out to eat and grab food with either the band or just the two of you, you never ordered anything too exquisite, too loaded. small portions, barely any flavours, and it mostly consisted of greens. at this point, he was convinced that you were some rabbit.

so to his obvious surprise, when he asked you, “have you ever had a mcdouble, like, ever in your life?” and you shook your head no, his chin for real dropped to the ground. you had to explain to him that because of your upbringings, you were never really privileged with the so-called delicacies of sugary sweets and treats of fizzy sodas and a simple cheeseburger.

“oh no.. oh nonono i gotta take you right now—it’s the best thing ever!!” he exclaims while dragging you on your feet, beelining for the car. by the way, it’s 2am

you’ve never seen him so excited before, the whole car ride and i swear i mean the WHOLE car ride, bill was nonstop ranting about the menu and the millions of things that you two can try together. you can’t help but smile, he’s so cute. the pitch of his voice gets all high and squeaky. and he speaks fast, almost too fast that you as him to slow down, to which he finds himself becoming bashful over how passionate he is about mcdonalds.

pulling into the drive-thru, you stare at the enlarged kiosk of the mcdonalds menu, “do you know what you want to order? did i explain everything? oh, that’s what you want? wait—no, that one? fuck it i’ll just get everything!!”

you were indecisive, overwhelmed with the many varieties of what could be a burger, what drink to get, a soda or a milkshake? ooooh what about a side? chicken nuggets or fries?

bill on the other hand, knew exactly what to order. for him, a mcdonalds connoisseur, he gets a big mac, specifically six chicken nuggets, and a vanilla milkshake. classic, you thought to yourself. while passing through the first window to pay, you take out cash to give to bill for your portion of the food, he immediately holds his hand over yours, squeezing it.

“y/n, my treat. i want your first time to be memorable. ‘m the one who took you out, so let me pay, please? also, so you’re definitely the only person i’d do this for, don’t tell tom, okay?” you couldn’t fight back since he asked so politely. and knowing bill, he’d never make you pay. later, you’ll think of a way to repay him the favour.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

sitting on the curb of the parking lot, the two of you sat beside one another as bill began to pull out the food items one-by-one from their signature paper bag. the scent of the food wafts as he passes you a cheeseburger, you’re already salivating at the mouth, impatient to try it.

“smells good right? enjoy!” you open the carton to reveal a small burger, the bun almost perfect. bill places a beverage to the side of you, “cola! a classic, thought you’d like it for sure,” “thank you billy.. i really appreciate you doin’ this f’me.”

he shakes his head but smiles, “how could i not?? my best friend deserves this! no hate to your mom, but she was definitely punishing you by hiding this.. y’kno, i get sooo much mcdonalds, like, everyday, even more than that fatty tom! my grandma calls me macky ☺️,” he nods his head in approval to that nickname, how adorable. you think it fits him quite well.

awaiting, bill watches as you begin to take a bite of the burger. flavour runs over your tongue as you’ve felt like you just consumed ambrosia. your tastebuds are dancing, very joyous indeed. your eyes widen and you physically gasp with food in your mouth as you look at bill. there’s a glint in your eyes but his shines brighter to see such a positive reaction out of you.

it makes him happy to know that he could be there to see you enjoy what he loves. you end up taking more consecutive bites out of the burger until it was completely gone. scarfing it down, you chew, no words shared between the two of you as you both muck on what’s now become one of your favourite foods.

who knows? maybe this could become a daily thing, pray for your wallets, “oh my god.. this is so fucking good!?” “i know right??—oh wait, there’s a little sumn’ on your face..”

bill reaches out his hand to swipe away at the sauce that’s stuck on the corner of your mouth. seems as though you lost control of how messily you were eating that there was food on your face.

his touch was soft, gentle. as he uses his thumb to clean you off, he brings it into his mouth to lick off the remains as if it were nothing. you stare at him in shock, mouth, again, full of food as you were stunned and in no way capable of speaking. that was so, action forward. a heat transforms on your face as bill stares at you, innocently confused.

“what?” he asks, eyebrows a little furrowed as you lack a response. then, the realization hit him. what he did, was in fact, veryyyy intimate. hiding his face in his hands, he feels like he wants to scream. you notice his ears burning a vibrant pink, as he taps his feet in embarrassment.

he peeks at you through his fingers, “sorry! it was just instinct, i-i didn’t mean to, uh, do that..” he struggles to hold eye contact with you, putting a chicken nugget in his mouth.

giggling at him, you take a sip from your large coca cola, smiling with the straw between your teeth. putting the cup down on the ground, you lean in to place a small kiss on bill’s cheek “it’s okay, thank you billy, really, the food was amazing,” waiting for his reaction, he sits there still as a statue, until immediately slapping a hand onto the cheek you kissed him.

“you’re blushing, bill,”

“shut up before i eat all your food.”

nomnomnom , good eats .. ily 2 anon

keis makes an appearance once more !! how many more until she quits :p jk i’m just overly consumed by work

[rxmqnova]

Hey

Love your work. How about lizzie, daughter reader ?

(Set during WandaVision filming)

Lizzie's really annoyed with us because R got suspended from school for skipping class and giving the teachers 'sass' so we have to spend time with her on set.

We attend the on set school with the other child actors. But it soon becomes clear we can only read at a 2nd grade level (we're a teen).

Lizzie gets informed during her break and feels horrible for giving us a hard time, and being too busy to notice how much we're struggling.

So that night she asks us to help her run her lines. We're really anxious about it, so Lizzie sits us on her lap, tells us she knows about our reading troubles and helps us to read the tommy and Billy lines.

It becomes clear we're a 'chip off the old block' so she gets us a part in the t.v show.

Hoping that acting will help with our dyslexia

Feel free to change or add anything here 😃👍

Thanks. Your the best 👌

Reading problems

Y/N: 13 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Mom, I-"

"Y/N, don't. I'm really mad right now" Lizzie gives her daughter a stern look, continuing her way to the car while Y/N's following behind.

"But I-"

"I said no, Y/N… Skipping classes. What were you thinking?" Lizzie shakes her head, not even turning around to look at her daughter.

Lizzie and her daughter only just left the principal's office. Y/N got suspended for skipping classes and not being really nice to her teacher about it which, of course, didn't make Lizzie exactly happy.

The entire car ride home has been nothing but super uncomfortable for the young girl. Lizzie hasn't said a single word, still being really mad and disappointed which is something Y/N absolutely hates.

And unfortunately, the rest of the day happens to be pretty much the same, Lizzie talking only when it's necessary and Y/N better hidden in her bedroom.

———

The morning comes sooner than Y/N would like and Lizzie's already sitting on her daughter's bed, attempting to wake her up.

"Mom, I'm suspended. Did you forget?" Y/N groans, hoping her mother would let her sleep.

"I could not forget that. Did you really think I would leave you home alone after yesterday?" Lizzie raises an eyebrow. "You're going on set with me and you're going to attend the set school with Jett and Julian" Of course Lizzie earns a whine from her daughter on those words. "Get ready and come downstairs"

Hearing a nod Lizzie leaves the room, leaving her daughter to get ready. Y/N better does what her mom said and gets ready, meeting Lizzie downstairs.

Well, and after breakfast and getting everything that needs to be done before leaving, the pair gets to the car and heads on the set.

Once they arrive, Lizzie immediately leads her daughter to where the boys and the teacher are currently waiting for Y/N so they could start.

And as soon as Y/N joins them, they get into work. They start with some math which is luckily not that hard for the young Olsen. She's older than the boys and had already done this at school.

But then comes some reading and that's something Y/N absolutely hates. It is actually the main reason why she skipped her classes.

It's just the fact that for some odd reason the words are so hard to read for the young Olsen. She has no idea why, but sometimes she just misses out a few words when reading, or adds some. Or sometimes she mixes up the letters in a word.

And of course that didn't go unnoticed by her classmates. Now their just making fun of her that she can't read fluently, and especially when the teacher chooses her to read out loud.

Though now it's time for the boys to get ready for filming, so Y/N gets dismissed too. And just like Lizzie told her, she makes her way over to her mother's trailer to meet Lizzie there once she has a break.

Meanwhile Lizzie finishes her scene, so as planned, she starts walking towards her trailer.

"Miss Olsen, do you have a minute?" The teacher rushes to Lizzie once she sees her.

"Oh, sure. Is everything okay? Please don't tell me, Y/N got into some trouble again" Lizzie sighs.

"No, no. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Y/N's quite struggling. Especially with reading" The teacher starts, explaining everything to Lizzie who is more than shocked she hasn't noticed anything before.

When the two say goodbye, Lizzie starts walking to her trailer again, wondering how is it possible she hasn't found out about Y/N's troubles earlier.

"Y/N/N?" Lizzie calls, stepping into her trailer.

"I'm here!" Y/N calls back. "Working on the papers to school!" She adds.

Of course she got a stack of papers to do over her suspension, so she wouldn't be behind the others when she gets back to school. And to not make her mother mad even more, she decided to work on them. There's nothing much she can do anyway.

"That's good. Was everything okay at the set school? Did you understand everything?" Lizzie asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter's head on which Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. Is not Lizzie mad anymore?

The truth is that she feels horrible for being so mad at her daughter. Sure she's been busy with work, but she feels guilty she hasn't noticed how much Y/N struggles at school.

"All good" Y/N nods.

———

"Y/N/N, sweetheart, can you come here?" Lizzie calls from the kitchen, sitting at the table with a script in front of her, hearing a 'coming' back.

Y/N leaves the living room, walking to the kitchen where her mother called from.

"Could you help me to run my lines, please? Could you read Billy and Tommy's lines for me?" Lizzie asks, patting the chair next to her.

"I-Hm. I-I don't know, mom" Y/N says, nervously playing with her fingers and looking down at the ground.

"It's only a few sentences, honey. Please" Y/N ends up nodding, though she's really not ready for her mom to know about her reading difficulties. "There's no need to be anxious or worried. Come here, sweetheart" Y/N walks closer to her mother who pulls her to sit on her lap. "I spoke to the set teacher. She told me you have little troubles with reading. But that's completely fine. We're gonna practice together, yeah?"

"You're not mad?" Y/N asks quietly, still playing with her fingers nervously.

"Of course not, honey. I should have noticed earlier. I'm sorry how I acted earlier. If you ever have any problem, you can always come to me, okay?" Lizzie questions, earning a nod. "Let's practice a little now" She smiles, taking the script. "Could you read this for me?" She questions, pointing at the sentence with her finger.

The pair sits there for quite a long time, Lizzie helping her daughter to read every single word Y/n has a problem with. And to be honest, Lizzie's actually impressed how good of an actress her daughter is. The way Y/N repeats the sentences Lizzie had helped her to read like she's actually acting gets Lizzie thinking.

She promised herself she would not let her child to step into the film industry until she's 18, but if learning the script could help her daughter with her dyslexia, maybe just a small role wouldn't hurt. If it's something Y/N would want, of course.

----------------------

Elizabeth Olsen masterlist

Masterlist

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART THREE: the six

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, drugs, minor injuries, blood, very suggestive content, implied sex (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I fear I may have screwed up the timeline, but oh well! Hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a life threatening illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

SEVENEIGHTNINE (1975-1976)

The recording of their first album tested The Six's strength ― not only as a band, but as friends. And Y/n, who had never really been a part of the band during its songwriting process, was quick to realize that there was friction between the same band members again and again. Most notably, Billy and Eddie.

KAREN: Eddie wanted more freedom with what he was playing, Billy thought that since he was the frontman that his word was law...it's the same old story you've heard before. They were in a constant dick measuring contest and neither one of them wanted to admit defeat.

WARREN: Billy was my friend. Eddie was my friend. But when you put them in a room together and told them to make a song, they were the most annoying motherfuckers you'd ever met.

One day after a particularly harrowing songwriting session, the band found themselves back at the house in Laurel Canyon. The place that was usually filled with talk and music was silent, the telltale sign that they had brought work home with them. but what else were they supposed to do? They worked together, they lived together. The lines between work and home were becoming dangerously thin.

Y/n couldn't stand the silence. At her house, there had always been something going on ― her mom would be talking on the phone, someone would come in injured and she'd fix them up. At the very least, she'd keep the television on so she could get a good nights' sleep. But that night it was dead silent. Sickeningly so.

So Y/n got out of bed and wandered into Eddie's room. She didn't acknowledge his presence as she walked in, stopped in place suddenly, and collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

Eddie watched the whole thing from his bed, his guitar in his hands. He expected that maybe she'd say something, start a conversation and whatnot, but she didn't. She just went on, staring at the ceiling as though she had all the time in the world and a perfect reason to be there on the floor.

So he spoke first. "Hi."

"Why can't you just get over things?"

EDDIE: Out of the blue, no hesitation. "Why can't you just get over things?" I knew what she was talking about. Me and Billy had been at each others' throats for weeks, ever since we started writing the damn album. She wanted to know why I couldn't just pack it all in and take the hits as they came.

"Um―"

"Because here's the thing: you guys both have so much pride. Soooooo much. So much it makes me want to slap you guys across the face and remind you that you're human, not gods. And, look, I get it. He walks all over you sometimes and that's not cool. But sometimes it feels like you're pushing back just to be contrarian. Like you don't really disagree with what he's saying, you just disagree with the fact that he's the one saying it. You get my drift?"

EDDIE: Like I said, she doesn't sugarcoat things. She'll tell you what you are and if you don't like it? Tough.

Eddie paused, leaning back. She was right; he knew that much. And maybe he did argue with things just to argue, but so what? They weren't The Dunne Brothers anymore, they were The Six. Implied equal partnership. And still...

"He's thinks it's his band, Y/n."

"Then talk to him about it."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Y/n sat up, a crease formed between her brows.

He wasn't quite expecting that question. But, after a bit of stumbling, he came to what he thought was a reasonable answer: "Because he doesn't listen."

Y/n just looked at him like that was the dumbest thing he had ever said. "Well then make him listen."

"Yeah, alright. and how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

She didn't answer immediately, thinking. Eddie thought for a moment that he might have won.

EDDIE: There wasn't really a way to win an argument with her. Not really.

After a moment she turned to him. "A war isn't just two guys screaming at each other, Ed. They need soldiers, armies. Let me be your army."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like watching you get pushed around. It's kind of...sad."

"Thanks."

"You asked."

They lapsed into silence again. Y/n laid back down on the floor, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. When she spoke again, it was so quiet, Eddie wasn't sure at first if she was talking to him or to herself. "I just...I'm on your side, okay? So don't make it any harder to be."

EDDIE: I never quite got that, you know? "I'm on your side." I had no idea why she'd be on my side. Billy was the frontman, Billy was the guy you looked up to. And there she was, trying to help me out without me even asking. I guess I thought, am I really that pathetic? [Laughs] I probably don't want to know the answer to that. I don't know why she was on my side, I really don't. But it was good to know. Made me feel like, aside from all the melodrama that came with rock n' roll, I had something to hold on to.

By the time SevenEightNine was done, the CEO of Runner Records, Rich Palentino, was not impressed. In fact, in his opinion, the entire collection of songs they had collectively poured their hearts and souls into, did not have a number one single among it. Teddy Price decided to take things into his own hands, and that's when Daisy Jones got involved.

The plan was to take 'Honeycomb' ― a song Billy had written about the life he had promised Camila ― and add a female vocal onto it, a sort of call and response duet.

Needless to say, Billy was not happy about the arrangement.

GRAHAM: He had just gotten back from rehab and was finally making things right with his wife and his daughter, and they wanted to bring a new chick in to "fix" his song. I can see why he was upset. I just think that he could've handled it better.

EDDIE: He threw a fit. So, naturally, everybody tried to do things to appease him. Graham had the idea that Karen could sing the female part.

KAREN: Like I said, I can back up a chorus, but I can't hold my own.

EDDIE: Y/n was thrown into the mix.

KAREN: Eddie put "Y/n" and "solo" in the same sentence and she looked like she was going to vomit. We moved on.

GRAHAM: Eventually Billy got the gist that Daisy was what we needed. At least, Teddy thought so. And Billy would take Teddy's word over his own any day of the week.

BILLY: I thought, "Fine. If this Daisy girl wants to try it, we'll let her try it."

Daisy was brought into the studio within the next couple of days, marking the first time she ever officially worked with The Six. She was generally well received by all its members (except maybe Billy) and found a fast friend in Y/n.

Firstly, they were the closest in age, and, when you're thrown into a new environment surrounded by strangers, that tends to be what you gravitate towards. That, and Y/n had the special ability of getting the boys to shut up long enough to let her do her thing. That was especially important.

DAISY: The first time I got into that studio to record, the rest of the band crowded at the window, staring at me like I was an elephant in a zoo. It was unsettling. I was probably on the verge of yelling to them to give me some room to breathe when I saw Y/n and Karen dragging them out by their collars, kicking them out of the room until they were the only ones left. That meant a lot.

Despite Billy's every attempt to complain, Honeycomb was released featuring Daisy Jones. Billy was stubbornly pessimistic about the whole thing, of course. And by the time the recording and mixing of 'Honeycomb' was done, it was completely different from the song Billy had first pitched. He felt that his vision had been trod upon in a most disrespectful manner, so much so that, when it was first played, start to finish, for the entire band, the walked out the second the record stopped.

They all watched him go with confusion ― the song was good. It was great, even, but Billy hated it so much that he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as it. And this was before Camila started coming to recording sessions, so no one really wanted to follow him out. Especially not Eddie.

So after the door slammed, they all spent a tense few seconds looking around, sharing confused and annoyed looks over Billy's outburst, and when it became clear that no one was going to do a damn thing about it, Y/n sighed and got up. "Looks like I have to do everything around here, huh?"

She found Billy outside, leaning on the hood of his car, staring at the slowly heating pavement in the California sun. He had his hands crossed over his chest, not unlike a kid who had just gotten his toy taken from him. He didn't look up when Y/n stepped outside, but he spoke the moment she was within earshot: "We're not releasing it."

The reply that came back was a sharp, loud laugh from Y/n. "Fuck you, we're not releasing it. It's a good song. Probably the best one we've ever made."

"You don't get it," Billy shook his head, "that's my song that she's singing. Mine. The one that I wrote about my wife."

"It's not about your wife, Billy," Y/n said. "It's an apology to your wife. You asked us all to make it and we said yes, so don't go acting like you're the goddamn puppet master pulling all the strings. You asked us to make the song, and we said yes. And it's our band. Your song, our band. Sometimes we have to make decisions that don't please your every fucking whim because it's our band and we want to take it as far as we can. And this song, Billy? This is how we do that."

He said nothing, continuing to stare at the ground.

"We're releasing it as soon as we can, and the world is gonna lose its fucking mind. At least you can go home and tell your wife that everyone loves her song."

Billy looked up then, some of his scowl melted away. Y/n grabbed him by the wrist, uncrossing his arms and pulling him back towards the studio. "Now the least you can do is go be civil to your bandmates and to the girl who just made us a number one single."

Eventually she succeeded in dragging him back into the recording booth, to the surprise of everyone already there.

"He threw a fit; I told him to shut up and get over himself. So, when can we release it?" Y/n asked, looking to Teddy.

BILLY: Just like that, she told me to get my act together and got me back in that studio. It was a little harsher than it had to be, but it worked. She had perfected the art of making someone realize how much of an asshole they were being at that point. I think she used it most on me. Occasionally Warren. If it weren't for her, I don't know if I would've gotten back in that studio. Because I don't know if anyone else would've walked out to get me.

Just as Y/n had predicted, 'Honeycomb' quickly sailed to the top of the charts. It generated national attention, with the whole world seeming to suddenly ask the question, Who the hell is The Six?

Daisy Jones had singlehandedly brought them to the top, and it pissed Billy Dunne off to no end.

The rest of the band, however, was enjoying their newfound celebrity. Their album, SevenEightNine, came out soon after, putting them on the road for their first tour ever. Daisy was set to be their opening act ― which, again, did not exactly please Billy. But she was a magnet. Where Daisy went, people seemed to follow.

As the days counted down before they left, they did what they knew best: partying. Y/n, in particular, found herself spending increasingly more and more time with Daisy.

DAISY: Not everyone was on board with me having a hand in the band's success, I knew that. But I had a place at the Marmont that had a pool. And back then, that was all it took to be okay in Y/n's book.

―

[The following is a transcription from an interview with Rolling Stone. On June 2, 1975, Jonah Berg sat down with Y/n L/n to discuss the band's recent success and life on the road.]

JONAH: Where do you think you'd be right now? If you weren't in a band, I mean?

Y/N: [Pauses. Smiles] Somewhere in the ocean.

JONAH: No thoughts as to a career?

Y/N: You didn't ask about a career. You asked what I'd be doing right now. And that's it ― I'd be in the ocean. And I'd be in whatever career got me there.

[This marks the end of the transcript.]

―

WARREN: The girl is a fucking fish.

DAISY: She'd go under for as long as she could, come up for a single breath, and go back under again. Over and over and over. You can't get a single word in that girl's ears when she's in the water.

KAREN: Y/n had a habit of getting...obsessed. With people, with music, whatever it was that caught her interest and held it. And Daisy...[pauses] Daisy did that.

EDDIE: I'm not so sure it was a great thing that Daisy and Y/n became friends when they did.

In Laurel Canyon, Y/n was often the first to come home. In fact, whenever another band member stumbled in, they could most likely count on the fact that if they shouted, "Y/n, I'm home!" they'd hear her yell "Good. Go to sleep!" in response. But that night, it was not the case.

After all the band members had returned for the night, Y/n was still at the Marmont with Daisy. Her hair and clothes were still drying from when she had jumped in the pool an hour previous ― well, she either jumped or she was pushed. She couldn't quite remember now.

Dozens of people had crowded around the pool, drinking and doing whatever drugs came their way. More than once, Daisy and Y/n would stop their stroll to knock back some pills passed their way or do a line off a pool table. Y/n started to wonder what time she had to get home when she noticed Oh, the sun is coming up. Has the sun always been that purple?

"Daisy, what time is it?" she asked, looking to her left. But Daisy had disappeared. There was a splash, and suddenly Daisy was floating in the pool with her nicest Caftan dress billowing around her. She looked like some kind of mystical sea nymph, or so Y/n thought.

"DJ!" Y/n yelled at her, catching her attention. "I need to go home."

Daisy, of course, wouldn't hear of it. Parties didn't end until she thought they were over. "No, no come on! Just stay a little longer!"

"I can't, I...we have rehearsal in the morning."

Daisy sighed, splashing somewhat disappointedly. "Mkay. Fine," she sighed, swimming over to the edge, "can you at least help me out?"

She held a hand out, which Y/n took. Stupid decision, of course. Daisy just pulled her into the pool, causing an eruption of cheers around them.

As she hit the water, Y/n briefly thought that she had some reason to be upset with Daisy, but she couldn't quite remember why. Within a moment, all discomfort had disappeared, completely forgotten, and she was perfectly ready to stay as long as Daisy wanted.

That was, until she came up for air and saw Billy standing there at the edge of the pool.

For a moment, Y/n just stared up at him blankly. Then, she splashed water on him. He looked at her in confusion and she explained, "I had to make sure you were really there and I wasn't just making you up."

"Y/n, it's time to go." he said.

"Oooookay," she said slowly. "I'll get a taxi in a little bit."

"No, this isn't some kind of courtesy call. It's time to go now."

Y/n huffed in response, swimming over to the side. She was too tired (or doped up) to argue. Really, Billy's presence reminded her that she had a house with her own bed. And she realized right then how much she really, really wanted to be in bed.

"Who told you I was here?" she said as she attempted to hoist herself out of the pool.

"Eddie did," Billy replied, helping her out. "Something about you not knocking."

"That son of a bitch," she muttered. "Where is he?"

"Back at the house. Asleep."

"I want Eddie. Get him here."

"You'll see him in the morning."

Y/n, not satisfied with that answer, pushed Billy away, anger curling her hands into fists. "I don't need you to tell me what to do, Billy. I'm a fucking adult. I know when I've reach my limits."

Billy looked at her. Mascara and eyeliner had traced gray lines down her face. Her hair and clothes were soaking wet, clinging to her, dripping onto the pavement. For a second, the hardened look on her face reminded Billy of the day she wandered into their garage and stole the drum sticks straight from Chuck's hands. She didn't look much older now than she did then.

"Just get in the goddamn car."

"No."

"Get in the car."

"No!"

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

She looked down suddenly and noticed a deep cut on her right hand. She frowned at it, but didn't seem that surprised at its existence. "That was there when I got here."

Billy more or less forced her into the passenger seat of the car, where she hung her hand out of the window, letting the blood drip onto the pavement rather than onto the seats.

In the less than ten minute drive home, Y/n talked until she was laughing hysterically at her own jokes, stuck her head out the window and howled at the moon, and finally sat in silence long enough that she started to cry.

Eddie woke up that night to a book hitting him in the face. He jolted awake, looking around wildly. And then, in the dead silence of his room, Y/n's voice came from the doorway. "Snitch."

She shut the door after that, and he heard her stumbling footfalls down the hallway.

And while that should've been the last time Y/n partied with Daisy, it wasn't. She went the next night, and the night after that. The knocks on Eddie's wall became less and less frequent until they stopped all together.

Daisy became her favorite pastime.

"You're in love with Eddie, right?" Daisy asked. They were both lying on the ground outside at the Marmont, letting their heads hang over the pool so that only their hair soaked in the water.

At her question, Y/n shot up, her wet hair drenching her back with cold water instantly. "What?"

"Oh, sorry," Daisy said, still hanging there. "I just thought...you know..."

Y/n did not, in fact, know. She turned to Daisy, a crease formed between her brows. "Why would you think that?"

Daisy sat up then, her impossibly long hair acting like a weight that she had to struggle against to sit up. "You're always lookin' at him when you're rehearsing. At a certain point it was like...I could count on the fact that when I walked into the studio, you'd be right next to him."

As Daisy spoke, Y/n felt herself frowning deeper and deeper. Eddie...Eddie was her best friend. That was for sure. He was the one she went to when she wanted to talk to someone.

Three thoughts emerged as Daisy talked.

One: I am not in love with Eddie Roundtree.

Two: I'm in love with Eddie Roundtee.

Three: It's so obvious it's sad.

Daisy kept talking, oblivious to her sudden revelation. "I get it, you know? If you really like him, you should just go for it. He's a nice guy, and he looks at you as much as you look at him."

Y/n excused herself then, claiming she felt sick. Well, that was mostly true ― she did feel sick. But not the type of sick that drinking generally made her. The kind of sick that came from thinking too hard, too quickly.

But instead of coming back, she left the Marmont, walking home with bare feet. She was still dripping with pool water, freezing her ass off the whole way home, but she was too deep in her own head to really realize it.

She made it back just as the sun was starting to come up, falling asleep on the couch rather than in her room. She slept fitfully, waking up every half hour or so thinking she had said something in her sleep that she couldn't take back.

The next night, she didn't go back to Daisy's. In fact, when Eddie heard Y/n's bedroom door shut before midnight, he frowned, wondering momentarily if she had just imagined it. Then, to test the theory, he knocked. It was the tune to the newest song by the Kinks. He didn't think too long about the song, really, he just wanted a response.

For a moment, none came. He waited patiently, silently, for any response. There was none.

Sighing, he settled back down on his bed, deciding that that was the last time he'd knock. There was no point in knocking to no response.

But a few moments later, the response came ― this time at his bedroom door.

He paused, sitting up, part of him wondering if he'd completely imagined it. Either way, he had to check. He got up, leaving his bass on the bed, heading to the door. He opened it and Y/n stood in the doorway, hair still wet from a shower.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hi."

And then, before he had the chance to say anything else, she stood on her toes and kissed him. He was so taken by surprise that he practically froze as he kissed her back, only to be unfrozen by her pushing him further into the room and kicking the door shut behind them.

EDDIE:  [Pauses. Takes a deep breath] Oh, wow. Um. Yeah, sure. Yes. I did…I did love Camila. But, everyone loved Camila, you know? Maybe it was…at one point I thought maybe…[pauses] it’s not important. The love I had for Camila…it was painful. It was so much stuff that had nowhere to go, so it just sat. Weighed me down. And Y/n was the first person who, I don’t know, made it lighter.

The next morning when Y/n woke up, she was clearheaded for what felt like the first time in years. The sunlight didn't make her head pound, she didn't feel nauseated, and she didn't have to check herself to see if she'd acquired any news injuries from the night before.

When she rolled over, Eddie was there, still asleep. Her lips parted slightly at the sudden reminder that the previous night hadn't been a dream. And the reminder of Eddie's presence next to her reminded her that there were, in fact, several other people in the house.

She sat up and saw Eddie's shirt at the edge of the bed. She reached for it, leaning over and tapping Eddie on the shoulder. "Hey," she said. He stirred a bit. She held up the shirt. "Can I borrow this?"

"'Course." he responded sleepily. "You leaving?"

"Oh, don't worry. I won't be far. Just down the hall" she said with a smile. He laughed slightly at that, and she gave him a quick kiss on the side of his lips. She tried to get up then, but Eddie caught her wrist, pulling her back down to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pressing his lips to hers. She found herself smiling as he kissed her, a chill running down her spine.

Eventually he let her go and she slipped his shirt over her head. She went for the door, pausing before opening it. "We're going to talk about this later, by the way."

Eddie frowned. "What's there to talk about?"

She paused, thinking. "Maybe talk is the wrong word for it."

She gave him a sly smile, causing him to roll his eyes and bury his head in his pillow. She laughed quietly, opening the door as quietly as she could and shutting it behind her. And as she went to walk into the hallways, she saw Warren standing there, a beer can in one hand.

WARREN: She looked at me with this doe in headlights look, and I just knew she was going to ask, so I told her before she had the chance.

"We have thin walls."

WARREN: Man, the look on her face right then. [Laughs] Priceless. I was so drunk the night before, I didn’t hear shit, but one look at her—the messy hair, the smudged makeup—you just knew. I was happy for ‘em. For once it felt like I wasn’t waiting for the shoe to drop, you know? It just…dropped. I was happy for them.

Y/n said nothing to him, simply turning and walking away, causing Warren to chuckle to himself.

Billy and Camila moved out of the house in Laurel Canyon soon thereafter, wanting to have a home to call their own. That left the more, well, irresponsible band members to themselves.

One day, Warren returned to the house to find Graham, Karen, Eddie, and Y/n on the back porch, slumped in chairs, staring at the air in front of them like they were waiting for something.

"What are you guys on and can I have some?"

WARREN: It was mescaline, because of course it was.

"How long does it take to kick in?" Warren asked.

Karen shrugged. "Depends on the person."

A few seconds later, Warren suddenly stood up, stumbling slightly. "Whoa..."

Y/n giggled, then frowned. She moved her head back and forth, side to side, like she was weighing it. "Guys, my head is getting really heavy. Too heavy. How much should my brain weigh? Can brains gain weight? Do I have an overweight brain and I didn't notice it until now?"

"If you had an overweight brain, you wouldn't have failed math." Warren said. "Now, I-I feel on a molecular level, you know, like me and the canyon, we are..." he trailed off, then clapped, "Ha! No, we're the same, man."

Karen laughed. "Warren and Y/n are feeling it, clearly."

Graham laughed, and then suddenly he went slack, eyes wide. "Oh shit..." he put his hand over his stomach, "I can't feel my heart."

As Karen went to make sure his heart was actually beating (which, of course, it was ― he was just looking in the wrong place for it), Y/n turned her attention to Eddie. He was staring at his hands like it was the first time he was seeing them. She looked at her own, waving them in the air like she was trying not to hurt the air.

Y/n and Eddie had kept their, well, for lack of a better word, tryst, from the rest of the band members. Except, of course, Warren who had found out completely by mistake. As Y/n inspected her hands, she let one fall to the side, landing on Eddie's thigh.

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. She bit her lip to hide a smile.

"No, Graham, it's there."

"Karen, I can't feel my heart. It's gone, man."

Y/n slid her hand further up his thigh, trying her best not to giggle at the way he tried to keep his cool under her touch.

"Can-Can we call a doctor or something?"

"Graham. Move your hand up."

Graham frowned, looking down. Then moved his hands to the correct place and, upon feeling his heart beating steadily underneath his palms, sighed in relief. "Oh. Thanks."

Eddie suddenly stood up, startling all of them. Without a word, he took Y/n by the hand, pulling her back inside. Y/n giggled then, already going to unbutton her shirt.

Karen and Graham watched them go in confusion. "What the hell is up with them?" Graham asked as the door shut behind them.

Warren just raised his half empty beer can in their direction. "L'Chaim," the declared, then drank it all in one sip.

Thanks to Honeycomb, The Six had been put on the map. They were touring for their first album with Daisy Jones as their opening act. It was on that tour that they all got their first taste of real fame of screaming crowds and fanatic fans.

Towards the end of the tour, the decision was made that Daisy would join the band, and they would soon become known as Daisy Jones & The Six. After the tour, they were on their way to creating their first album with Daisy on the team.

EDDIE: Things were perfect. Well, I didn’t think they were perfect at the time. I still wasn’t getting along with Billy, I didn’t feel like I had any creative control, I basically felt like a second-class citizen even though I had been there from the beginning. But I had Y/n, and the band was successful. If I had been able to put down my pride and look at my life from a couple steps back, I probably would have thought, damn…this ain’t bad.           I never really guessed how bad things would go downhill after that.

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[cornflower-cowboy]

The first time Neil does anything that makes Max feel unsafe is three months after Billy's moved back to Cali with the Byers-Hoppers.

She'd just come back from skating with Lucas when she bumps into her step father in the kitchen. He's mad about something, shouting into the phone like the person on the other side is Billy.

She knows it's not, Billy wouldn't call. Hasn't called.

She tries to slink past him, avoid his anger, when he turns around. Before she can even get a word out he cussing at her next.

"Did hanging around those boys make you dumb?" He asks, ignoring what the person on the other end of the line is saying. "Don't you know how to fucking greet anymore, Maxine?"

"I'm sorry," Max says, voice meek and apologetic. Just like Billy had taught her. "Hello Neil."

"Good afternoon to you too Maxine," Neil says back. It's sounds like a taunt, like he's wishing her anything but a good afternoon. "Go to your room and start on your homework."

"Yes sir," it's a slip of tongue, catching Max off guard, and Neil too if the way he freezes is anything to go by, but Max can't take it back. All she can do is slink off to her room as Neil turns back to the phone.

Maybe that was the catalyst, maybe that was the push Neil needed, because a few days later he's chewing her out on being late.

"No Susan," Neil says, lifting up a hand to stop Max's mother from interrupting. "Billy isn't here anymore to drive her around or bring her back from where she goes with those boys. She needs to learn how to be responsible for herself."

Responsibility. Max knows a lot about responsibility from Billy. Knows exactly what Neil means when he says those words. Every time they came up, they were always followed by a slap, or a push, sometimes a punch.

Max idly wonders if Neil would reinforce his words with violence. If the anger thrumming beneath his skin will finally find an outlet. The longest time he'd ever gone without hitting Billy had always been a few days. And now he had no punching bag for months.

Following that thinking, in hindsight, Max should have expected the slap. Neil had been growing angrier and angrier by the day and Susan hadn't been doing much to help calm his nerves.

The eggs were burnt, because Billy was the one who usually made them. The house wasn't as tidy, because Billy was the one who usually cleaned. The laundry wasn't perfectly washed because Billy was the one who'd been doing it for years before Max and her mom had shown up. Because Neil said it was part of Billy's Responsibilities, just like everything else in that damn house.

Billy had warned Max about Neil's reaction to Lucas, and Max should have figured that in a small town like Hawkins, Neil would find out eventually. Hindsight was always 20/20, even as Max found herself on the floor, cheek smarting in a way it had never felt before.

She stayed down, listening to him berate Lucas as one of those dirty people. She stayed down even as he spat obscenities at her, going on about how only whores would go for people like that. She stayed down because that was what Billy had taught her.

Make him believe that he hurt you more than he had. If he uses his feet, curl into a ball and protect your head.

After his tirade, he commanded that she pick herself up off the floor and stay away from those boys. Max did so slowly, apologizing the entire time. She didn't raise her head as he left, didn't utter a peep until she heard the tv switch on.

Only then did she move from her spot in the kitchen, tiptoing upstairs before he found another reason to be mad at her. He'd done that with Billy before. Waited until his guard was down before he started beating on him for something else.

Billy always just took it, because that was the only other option. Max had seen, just like she'd seen when Neil punched the boy hard enough that he crumpled to the floor. Just as she'd seen when Billy tucked his head in his arms, protected by his knees. Just as she'd seen when he apologized over and over, always promising to do better.

She'd learnt a lot from Billy, from fighting to protecting yourself to responsibilities to apologizing to making yourself invisible. But she'd never learnt how to ask for help.

Max didn't know how to ask for help. She'd never seen her brother do it before. She'd only ever seen him take it and take it until he could no more.

But even then, she still found herself downstairs the following morning, when her face was too bruised for her to go to school, phone in her hand. Neil and her mom had left for work, her mom's face pinched tight but her lips still shut. She pulled herself out of bed and to the kitchen and dialed the number that she knew off by heart.

A number she memorized when she'd first seen it.

It took two rings for Billy to pick up, his voice a balm that Max never realized she needed. He was right there, on the other side of the phone.

But Max never learnt how to ask for help.

[heyitspersephone]

Thinking about stranger things again now that the strikes are over and how, narratively, it would be way, WAY cooler to have Mike get Vecna’d instead of Will in s5

It’s just something about the way Mike’s trauma is never addressed or handled in any way?? Like, he hugs his mom twice and then when he was depressed in season 2 and 4 nobody did anything (his parents scolded him for his behavior in s2 ig but that’s not support). His best friend went missing leaving from his house, he watched his body get pulled from the quarry, watched El (in his eyes) kill herself stopping the demogorgon, watched Will be possessed, saw Bob die, was in Star Court when everything went down, saw Billy die, had his best friend move away, was SHOT AT (and really too few people talk about the shooting in Cali bc omg??), buried a body, and watched the apocalypse start. And that’s just off the top of my head.

(And yes I’m aware that the other characters (especially Will) are traumatized too but I will get to my point in a second just hold on)

The plot is geared towards this idea that Will and Henry have to have some big face off (and they should, in my opinion, but I don’t think it should be in a possession, or at least not the the Vecna kind of possession, yk?) but that makes it all the better, writing wise, to have mike be the one in danger. Will was helpless and hiding in s1, I think Will should get his big strong moments in s5 where he gets to be the hero of the story.

It would just be a lot more fun to work with Mike being Vecna’d than Will, because what are we going to bring up with Will’s visions? His dad? His sexuality? The events of s1 from his perspective? It would be cool to see, for sure, but we already know most of that. Mike, on the other hand, has a number of untapped things, like jumping off the quarry, why he’s so hesitant to tell El he loves her, how someone who was smart and kind enough to take El in in s1 and come up with the spy and sauna plans in s2 and s3 could turn into the oblivious asshole that he was in s3 and s4 (he needs therapy, ik, I still love his character but I want to explore the reasons he went from his s2 characterization to his s3 one)

It would be a very interesting parallel, I think, to explore Mike’s thought processes in this way, especially with all of Mike’s repression business (bc whether you ship byler or milkvan he is repressing his feelings HARD. Like, beyond his inability to say I love you there’s the fact that he doesn’t bring up the apparent many times he called pre-s4 during the Rink O Mania fight?? That literally would’ve absolved him of guilt in that argument since he WAS reaching out to Will the whole time? Hellooooo????).

Anyways, this all brings me to my main point: Vecna targets isolation as much as he targets trauma and guilt. The whole party was traumatized by the events in s1, s2, and s3, but Max was the one targeted. Plus, Henry went for Fred, Chrissy, and Patrick (I think his name was Patrick) instead of going for the perceivably easy targets that the mcs would make (ik narratively that would’ve made it more boring but shhh), so why Max and those three specifically? They were isolated. Lucas and Erica have each other, Dustin goes to Steve and Robin, Will and El have each other and Jonathan and Joyce, Nancy probably goes to Jonathan, and who does Mike go to?

No one. And don’t say Nancy because if those two have heart to hearts then I’m the next coming of Christ. Max separated herself from the Party in the aftermath of her grief and guilt over Billy, and it feels quite obvious that Mike was doing the same (like I said, he has repression issues). So Mike is traumatized, alone, and guilty (be it Will getting taken from Mike’s house, losing El in front of him multiple times, the many deaths he has witnessed, or the internalized homophobia angle), which makes him more of a target than Will, in my opinion (or at least an easier one, especially given his tendency to put himself on the line during fights (quarry, most of s2, s3 mindflayer fight), which would set him up on the suicidal ideation path)

Furthermore, as I’ve seen a few other people point out (and I can’t find the posts but one of them had eight screenshots of the various moments), Mike is always the one getting in the way, so it would be a strategic move for Henry to target him to get him out of the picture. Mike was the one that found El and got her involved in saving Will s1, he was the one who came up with the spy plan and called out the ambush in s2, he was the one to monologue Will out of his possession s2, he was the one with the sauna plan for Billy in s3, he was the one trying to help El get the strength to fight s4 (even if the monologue sucked ass it’s the intention that counts). As much as people like to hate on Mike, he is in the leader position most of the time when the party is grouped up (barring his mental health struggles slowing that down beginning of s3 and throughout s4, but he’s still capable of it). He’s the idea man, and he’s the one whose character’s foundations were built on the desire to keep his friends safe, so it would be a very fun plot line to watch him be the one targeted in s5. Like Will said, as lovestruck and cheesy as he was, Mike is the heart of the party when he’s on his A-game, so Henry should 100% be trying to keep him in the issues he’s been struggling with.

Obviously, Will and El are the Targets with a capital T for Henry since they’re the ones that got away or whatever, but I think Mike is a weakness of Will’s (and El’s tbh but also I think they need to have separate character arcs and I don’t exactly ship milkvan) that should be exploited.

TL;DR: Mike should get Vecna’d instead of Will in s5 because it would make sense in lore and be a very cool way to resolve his character arc

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Angel With Glasses - pt. 3

Warnings: SA, blood/injury, crying, alcohol, mention of drugs, comforting Steve, fighting, lots of angst, reader getting lost in the woods at one point, lmk if I missed anything!

“I will see you tomorrow night at the quarry, right?” Billy winked at you. You did find him sort of attractive but the stench of nicotine dimmed it down. The two of you sat on his car right after school. People bustled by in their cars and walking and laughing.

You wished you could be as happy as some of them. You wished your brother wasn’t an asshole. You wished your mom was still alive. You wished you found love— and not the fake kind. The real kind. The kind that you didn’t see coming, that breaks you but when you get to a good place, glues you back together. A kind of love that makes you twirl your hair around your finger and bite your lip. A kind that makes you wanna brag to anyone and everyone. The kind of love that you can barely breathe without them. That kind of love.

You heard your name and snapped out of your trance. Billy had an annoyed look on his face. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Billy huffed and then gave you a fake smile. “I said I love your pretty eyes.”

Your face heated and you looked down at your worn out jeans. “Th-thank you.”

“I uh, I have something for you.” He gave you a sultry smirk and hopped off of the back of his trunk. He opened the back door and pulled out a small bag.

He gave it to you and asked you to get off of the back of his car. You peeked inside the bag and gasped. You saw something satin and baby pink.

“I want you to wear that tomorrow night. For me.” He tilted his head to the side.

You bit your lip and pulled the material out of the bag. It was a tiny little dress that had small black hearts dotted across the neck line. “You got this… for me?”

“Isn’t it pretty? It will make you look all pretty, sweetheart.” He whispered. You inhaled sharply.

“O-okay. I Guess i Can wear it.”

“Yeah?” His voice was low. He leaned in, lips scraping against your cheek. “Maybe you can do your hair all pretty, put on a little bit of makeup…” you shivered but you couldn’t tell if it was good or not.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Standing in front of your full length mirror that sat against your bedroom wall, you stared at the tops of your thighs that were barely covered. You turned to the side and looked at your ass almost hanging out of the bottom of the dress.

“If you’re coming you better hurry up, four eyes!” Your brother called from outside your door.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your white sneakers and slid them on. You grabbed a big cot because it was sure to be cold with what little material you were wearing.

Your hair looked better than it usually did thanks to a curling iron and some hairspray. You had a very small amount of makeup on, lip gloss shined on your lips but it felt unusual and sticky.

Your brother pounded on your door. “Last time, loser!”

“I’m coming, gosh!” You yelled. Thank God your dad wasn’t home to see what you were wearing.

You opened your door and your brother was standing there. He looked down and up with a disgusted face. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked.

“What?”

“Your glasses, idiot.” He reminded you.

You frowned at him. “I don’t need them.”

He stared at you for a second. “You got contacts didn’t you?” He tilted his head with a smirk. “Wait til I tell him, your ass is grass.”

“Oh, like you when I tell him you’ve been selling mom’s left over medication?” You tilted your head with a smirk the same way he did.

He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I would.”

He huffed and turned. “Let’s go, stupid.”

You smiled a bit, not actually thinking that it would work but followed him out of the house. You said nothing but just looked out of the window the whole time.

When you and your brother arrived at the quarry, it was already dark. There were many people around and you could not spot Billy. The dress he bought for you was not the most comfortable. The breeze was definitely a bit much for the length of the dress.

People whizzed past you and your brother holding red solo cups. Your turned to ask your brother if he could help you find Billy but he was already gone talking up some blonde chick with frizzy hair and her cleavage busting out the top of her dress.

You saw Robin and Eddie sitting on the edge of the quarry, very unsafe might you add, passing a joint back and forth. You sniffed the air probably getting a little contact high from the amount of weed on the air.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for Billy to pop up out of nowhere. And sure enough, he did.

He appeared in front of you wearing a blue shirt that was not button so his oiled up abs were on full display. His jeans were as tight as ever and his hair looked the same but better. Maybe it was the moon or the smell of weed and Jack Daniels but you were liking this kind of Billy.

“Hey, sweetheart!” He yelled over the stero that bumped music. “You wore the dress, you look…” he licked his lips as his eyes trailed up and down your figure with no shame. “Sexy.”

Your face heated. “Sexy?” You didn’t mean to say it out loud it was just that no one had ever called you sexy before. You let your arms fall to your sides, his choice of words boosting your confidence.

He flashed his white teeth and pulled his lighter and a cigarette from his left pocket. “You need a drink, honey?” You shook your head and he groaned. “Oh, come on. Everyone gets a drink tonight including you.” He said with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He lit it and grabbed your wrist, dragging you over to the keg. He put the cigarette box back into his left pocket.

You watched as he poured you a drink. Some ruckus behind you made you turn your head to see what was happening.

Someone tripped over a rock and busted his knee. You but you lip and turned back to Billy. He shoved the drink in your hand. “Thanks…”

You took a small sip, beer barely getting your your throat before it fizzled down on your tongue. The flavor was unlike anything you’d ever had before but it wasn’t too bad.

Billy waited for a reaction from you and you nodded. “Good?”

“Yeah, it’s good.” You nodded. You took another sip just to make him happy. You saw Steve pass by behind Billy. You locked eyes with him for what seemed like an entire minute. You trailed back down to your unusual looking fizzy liquid in your cup and took another sip.

“Need a cig?” Billy pulled a box of cigarettes out of his right pocket and took one out for you.

You shook your head. “I’ve heard beer and nicotine don’t mix well.”

Billy shrugged. “That’s only if you’re a chain smoker. Come on, one won’t hurt ya, doll.”

You inhaled deeply, the smoke coming from him, already too much. “I’m not really into cigarettes any way.”

“How do you know if you’ve never tried.”

“Well, for one, they smell like death.” You blinked.

He chuckled. “These ones are cherry flavored.” You thought that was weird because while he was blowing smoke into your face, you never got a hint of cherry.

You rolled your eyes and smiled a little. “Um okay.”

He handed you a cigarette and held up his lighter. “I can light it for you.”

You shook your head and took it from him. You put the cigarette in between your lips. “I got it.” Your voice was muffled by your lips that were trapping the cigarette. You flipped open the lighter and immediately dropped it when the flame touched the tip of your middle finger.

The lighter broke.

“Oh, shit. Billy, I’m so sorry.” You hissed, also dropping the cigarette in the process. You bent down to pick it up and heard whistles from behind. You chose to ignore it and stood, holding the two pieces out in front of you.

He shook his head, looking like he was suppressing some anger. “It’s okay, doll. I have another one in the car.” He quickly walked away and you felt tears stir up as the stinging throb was the center of attention again.

You hissed and walked towards the keg again. “Shit.” You grabbed a few ice cubes from a big cooler next to it and closed your hand around them, the burn on the tip of your finger touching the ice as well.

“What the hell are you wearing?” You turned to see Steve with crossed arms.

You nervously bit your lips and shrugged. “Clothes?”

He scoffed. “Barley. And… my God, is that beer in your hand.”

You set it down quick and shook your head. “Nope, apple juice.” A playful smirk came from you and Steve actually chuckled at you.

Steve looked around. “Where’s Billy?” He asked. You scoffed and shook your head.

“Why would I know?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Steve pressed his lips together and gave you a nod. “Well, you’ve been attached to his hip for the past week.”

“I have not, Steve.”

A girl came up right next to you and tapped you on the shoulder. “Um Billy said to meet him by the fire pit down the trail.” She giggled. You furrowed your brows and she walked away.

Steve gave you a look. “Okay, comedic timing!” You defended. He shook his head.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” He said, his voice low.

You picked up your drink and took a swig, trying not to make a face. “Well, good thing you’re not me.”

You walked away from Steve and down the trail the girl pointed to.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Down the trail you could see orange light on the tree tops. You eventually made it to the fire pit where Billy was standing.

“Did you find your lighter?” Your called to him. You had gotten to enjoy the taste of the beer in your little adventure on the trail and had almost the entire cup. The one cup shouldn’t have made you feel the way it did.

You stumbled over to Billy. “I’m really sorry about your lighter Billy. I Can buy you a new one.”

Billy grabbed your hips and tightly squeezed. He moved one hand up to your face and caressed your cheek with his knuckles. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” He looked amused, almost proud.

You blinked slowly. “I don’t feel good.” You shook your head trying to get rid of the dizziness. Your stomach was in knots and your heart pounded.

His arms circled you and your felt ten times smaller. “Billy, can we go b… back now? I’m a little… not feeling good.” You shook your head.

“Shhhh…”

You dropped your cup and all that was left in it spilled onto the ground. “Billy get… get off…” you mumbled. He laid you down gently on the gravel and you groaned.

You felt his hands traveling along your body, a few times slipping under your dress. “Get…” you shook your head, not knowing the rest of the words you were looking for.

You heard a zipper and your head immediately began to panic. This is not happening.

You felt his weight looming over you. “Please Billy…” you gasped as the wind cascaded over you.

“You want me?” You shook your head at his question. “Say it.”

“N…no.” You sniffled.

“I said, say it.”

A burst of adrenaline, even in the drugged state, kicked in. “I said, no.” You kneed him in the crotch as hard as you could and he shouted. He rolled off of you and you got on your hands and knees and started to crawl towards the tree line.

You heard him screaming your name.

The branches under your hands as you entered the woods cut your palms.

You got up and started to run as fast as you could, blood rushing and heart pounding. You turned and suddenly, Billy was there.

He grabbed you by the jaw and tugged you forward. “If you tell anyone about this, doll, I will make you regret your entire life. Understand?”

You struggled but nodded. He roughly pushed you away and you fell. You waited there until you couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore. Until all you heard were crickets. You pulled you knees to your chest and realized that they were bleeding. That was the least of your problems.

You stood, still dizzy and looked around in the pitch black. You walked and walked and walked but never found your way out.

You didn’t know how much time had passed but soon, you heard your name being shouted.

You wiped the mascara that dripped down your cheeks with the back of your hand and shouted back. “I’m here!”

The footsteps got closer and then you heard his voice. “Holy shit, are you okay?” He sounded out of breath.

“Steve?” You didn’t even need to ask. You knew it was him.

“What… what’s going on? I saw Billy walk back to the party without you.”

Luckily, Steve couldn’t see the mess you were in the darkness. “Can you just help me get out of here?”

He reached for your wrist. When his fingertips ghosted your skin you flinched away. “Just walk, Steve.”

And he did without argument.

Soon, you stumbled out of the brush after him. The moon still was enough to see your bloody knees and the leaves in your hair. There was a small rip in the bottom of your dress. You didn’t even notice that one of your straps had broken. Most people were gone. There were only a few stragglers left behind passed out near the beer stand.

He whispered your name hesitantly. “Did Billy do something to you?” He asked.

You shivered. “No.” You slowly shook your head. “Why would you care anyway?”

He didn’t get a chance to speak before you were asking where your brother was.

“He’s gone.”

“What?”

“He left with a few other girls.” Steve told you. You sighed.

Your eyes shut for a moment trying to get the dizziness to go away yet again. “Great.” You mumbled.

“Let me take you home.”

You were shocked and opened your eyes to look up at him. “I— I can’t go home without him. My dad will be pissed.” You shook your head.

“Then I’ll take you to my house.”

You began to walk away from him. “Yeah, no thanks.”

He jogged up next to you. “So, where are you gonna go?”

You didn’t answer him for a moment. “I don’t know.”

He stepped in front of you and you cursed under your breath. “Please. Just let me take you home.”

You sighed. “I hate your house.” You told him.

“I know.”

“And you still want me to go to your house?”

“Yes.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

He made sure that you put on a sweater he found in the backseat of his car. It was big and comfy and smelled just like him.

The radio was on but it was soft. You kept thinking about what Billy could have done to you. Or what he would have done to you. It was hard to know that you once felt like you could possibly trust him.

“Are you hungry?”

This question broke you out of your demeaning thoughts. “If I say no will you actually except that?”

He shakes his head and turns into a 24 hour McDonald’s. “No.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

“No, you bonehead, the first Star Wars is better than The Empire Strikes Back!” You tossed a fry into your mouth and shrugged.

“No, no no. Listen, the sequels are always better. Always.” Steve took a sip of his coke and smiled.

You looked at the clock on the radio. “Oh, whatever. We’ve been arguing for 15 minutes. I’m finished.”

In the next thirty minutes you were at his huge house. When you walked in, he told you to wait in the foyer.

He ran up stairs and came back with pajama pants. “These are for you.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Really? I thought you were gonna strip right here and put those on.”

He rolled his eyes. “The guest room next to mine is yours for the night.”

You bit your lip and walked towards the stairs. “Thanks.”

He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. “What for?”

“For letting me stay here. And putting up with me.” You looked down at your feet. “And for worrying about me.”

He nodded and you swore you saw a smile. You turned and walked up the stairs. You took a peek into Steve’s bedroom, his navy blue sheets strewn about. He had a pair of plaid boxers laid neatly on the top of his dresser next to a brown towel.

His sneakers sat at the foot of his bed. He only wore those on days he played basketball. His green shorts were crumpled up right next to the shoes. He had to have just stripped one day after school and got into bed.

You hesitated to step inside his room. It felt wrong but you did it anyways. The warm light on his dark wooden desk shone on the textbooks that he definitely hadn’t been reading. You smiled and looked at all of the blank sheets of paper with titles of subjects at the top. You flipped through them and then froze.

At the top of one sheet of blank paper was your name. You ran your fingertips across the curves of the letters and then put the other pages on top of it. It was an invasion of privacy. But what could he want to write about you?

You walked out of Steve’s room and into the guest room.

Once you got changed into much more comfortable clothing, you shut your eyes and slid down the side of the bed, taking your seat on the floor.

You curled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. You rested your head in the space and inhaled deeply.

There was a knock at the door and you lifted your head. “Come in.”

Steve opened the door and looked around for you. Once he spotted you on the floor he tilted his head. He walked towards you and plopped down at your side.

“Can i ask you a question?”

You looked at him. You’d never been this close. “You just did.” He rolled his eyes at your dumb remark. “Okay, fineee.”

“What happened to your glasses?”

You exhaled and looked around the room. “They uh… broke.” You nodded, somehow still looking unsure.

You knew Steve didn’t believe you. Your eyes filled with tears when you looked at him. You couldn’t stop it from happening. You never cried in front of Steve Harrington. Never.

You put your head back in your arms as your shoulders shook. Steve was silent. He didn’t know what to do.

He whispered your name. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked—“

You shook your head. “I…” you sniffled and looked up at him. “I got rid of them for Billy.” Your throat felt tight and you shook your head. “Everything— everything I did was for him.”

Steve titled his head and looked at the tears cascading down your cheeks, glistening in the warm desk lamp light. He whispered your name like it was a prayer. “It’s okay.” He scooted closer to you.

“I let him manipulate me and for what? Some lousy attention? What’s worse is that I don’t even need his attention because I have yo— other peoples. I just… I let myself get caught up in a guy who never cared for anything more than what i could give to him. He wanted sex and when I told him no, he—“ you stopped when you felt Steve’s thumb wiping your wet cheeks. Your face burned and you took a deep breath.

His eyes told you that he was sorry about what happened at the party. His eyes told you that he really wished he could’ve followed you to make sure what Billy did… didn’t happen.

You took it though, as pity.

Even when he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you down into his chest.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.••.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Hellooooooo i lvoe this series and i love you!

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[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

The Graduation Lineup

Ship: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Summary: Billy Hargrove comes between you and Steve at graduation—but only by last name. Additionally, you finally find out Steve's middle name (among other things).

Word Count: 5,899 words

Warnings: Billy, Stancy mention, flashbacks (aka weird timeline/narration), little bit of self-pity from Steve, fluff

Note: Set in season 2! Also pretend Tommy's last name comes after Henderson so that you get stuck between him and Steve.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Graduation practice was held inside the school gym. You'd been there for an hour at least, waiting for it to start and then going through the list of names to get everyone in the right seat and spot in line. They were on F now. Your leg bounced where you sat, but from boredom, not from nerves. While everyone else was panicking about who they would have to sit next to for the entire ceremony, you knew who you would be next to—and you were happy with it. It was the same boy you were already sitting next to: Steve Harrington.

It was a little weird, you thought, that it all worked out so perfectly. That there were no other Hs separating Harrington and Henderson. That Harrington was the one you had gotten so close to over the past four years, but particularly close to in the last semester alone.

The vice principle got through the Fs and into the Gs. Soon.

"You alright?" he asked you, seeing your bouncing leg.

You nodded. "Just impatient."

Steve smirked, a signature King Steve smirk he hadn't quite shaken. "Got somewhere to be, Henderson?"

"I have to pick up Dustin from Mike's, they all had a sleepover last night. Not that Dustin minds staying over a little longer, but Mom does. She doesn't like him being out of her sight for too long these days."

Steve's eyes went glassy, like they did when he thought about what happened that night for a little too long. "Yeah, well... Can't blame her for that one."

"I don't," you said. "Not when Dustin still has nightmares."

Shock flickered across his face. He opened his mouth but then—

"STEVE HARRINGTON!"

He stood, grinning down at you. "See you in a minute."

You gave him a tiny wave goodbye as he walked away and waited a second for your own name to be called. The vice principle watched Steve take his seat, then looked down at his list.

"WILLIAM HARGROVE!"

Your heart stopped. What? Shit. You'd forgotten about Billy. You bit back a groan, glancing around the gym to try and spot him. There was no movement.

Of course you'd forgotten about Billy—he wasn't even here. Not to mention, he hadn't been here for eleven years. It had just been you and Steve next to each other for a solid eleven years. Steve on one side of you, and his (former) best friend Tommy on the other. Tommy had always been pissed that you separated them, but Steve had never minded, and he certainly didn't now.

"Not here today?" the vice principle said. "Alright, the next student should leave the seat next to Steve open for him." He looked back down at his list and called your name.

You walked to your spot—next to the empty seat—as if in a trance. You sat and looked over at Steve, who looked just a blindsided as you.

Your gaze dropped to Billy's empty seat. "But..."

For some reason, it felt like a betrayal. It felt like the world was ending.

You're overreacting, you told yourself. Just calm down.

But you had been next to Steve for eleven years. Every roll call they organized you by graduating class; every assembly; every Department of Education required testing. You had been in the seat next to Steve for your PSATs and SATs, stealing glances to find him sitting with his eyes huge, not a thought in his head, and trying so hard not to giggle. Then laughing about it after, when the proctors let you all leave, and the two of you exchanging a knowing look the moment you left the classroom.

Over time, especially after the demodogs, Steve grew to be something like your best friend, although, if asked, you'd probably say Nancy was your best friend. You'd grown up with her, too, when Dustin spent the night at Mike's.

(Which made you feel slightly like a traitor when, after all that had happened between her and Steve, you couldn't help but tolerate him enough to like him.)

But you also knew what happened that night in the Byers' house. You knew Billy and Steve had gotten into a fight bad enough to knock Steve unconscious and leave him banged up and bloody. You knew Billy hated him more than ever after that, even though it had been Max who finally knocked Billy out, and you knew it was the promise Max extracted from Billy that kept him from trying to finish the fight with Steve "properly."

So you knew that the look on Steve's face was not just from being separated after eleven years. You knew it was also from terrible fear, overwhelming fear.

The vice principle had gotten to the Js. You hadn't heard any of them, hadn't even noticed Tommy H. sit next to you. You just stared at that empty seat where Billy should have been—where you should have been.

~❊~

You considered yourself fond of Steve Harrington.

He'd saved your brother's life, after all, and the lives of Dustin's friends. Dustin had wasted no time in telling you just how great his new hero was, despite the fact that he was falling asleep in the back of the car when you'd rushed to Steve's house to pick him up, late at night.

"And he took his bat—the one I told you about, with all the nails, that one—and he just started bashing with it. And then, and then, and then, when the demodog got on the roof of the bus, he pushed us away so it couldn't kill us!" He smiled sleepily in the back, visible in your rearview mirror. "You shoulda been there. You shoulda seen it! He was awesome, just...just so awesome... So bitchin'."

You would have reprimanded him for his language (even though it wasn't going to stop him), but he was already asleep, without even finishing his story.

Had it surprised you? A little bit. The King Steve you had known was nothing like the Steve in Dustin's story, but you didn't doubt Dustin. You'd seen a change in Steve the past semester or so. But you'd sat next to him for eleven years, gotten to see a side of him that he didn't let the rest of the school see. And when you'd gone to pick up Dustin, the boy before you was deserving of your sudden fondness for him.

"Hey," he said, greeting you from where he leaned against his car, next to the open door revealing Dustin in the back. "I would have waited for you at the Byers', but I know this is closer, and it's late, so—"

Dustin shouted your name, hopped out of the car, and ran to you, hugging your legs tightly. He'd pretended to be fine when Steve called, but you could tell he was terrified and glad the whole thing was over from how tightly he hugged you.

You looked up at Steve, leaning down just enough to wrap your arms around Dustin's shoulders. "I can't thank you enough, Steve, really." He waved away your thanks, but you talked over him. "Seriously, Steve. Thank you. If anything had happened to him, I would've..." You looked down at Dustin, at a loss for words. "I don't know what I would've done."

"Yeah. Just..." Steve shrugged. He seemed embarrassed to be standing at his car, giving back your brother like two divorced parents and their child. "He needed help and...I was around."

You prodded Dustin toward the car. "Go get in the car. The back, I've got too much stuff in the passenger seat."

He nodded, stifling a yawn and heading to the car without protest.

You looked back at Steve. "Thank you. Again."

Steve nodded, his eyes locked on yours. "Any time."

Without really realizing it, you closed the distance between you and Steve and threw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and trying not to cry into his shoulder. He stood frozen for a moment, but then his arms came around you and squeezed. For some reason, you remembered he was dating Nancy Wheeler at that exact moment.

"Hey..." His voice was impossibly soft. "Hey, it's okay. He's okay. They're all okay."

You pulled away from him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I..." You shook your head. "Long, hard day, I guess."

"Don't worry about it," he said, in a tone so gentle and kind that you didn't.

So yes—you were fond of Steve, and that fondness grew when he visited more and more and more often to visit Dustin, or take him somewhere when you couldn't, and you learned through Dustin's endless chattering that Steve and Nancy had broken up a while ago, so you felt a little less guilty about the hug.

You considered Steve your best friend. You might have considered him more than that, if not for your friendship with Nancy.

(Although, did that really matter, when she was happy with Jonathan and comfortably over Steve?)

But you were far less fond of Billy Hargrove.

In fact, you were quite positive that you despised Billy Hargrove.

Even before knowing what he had done to Steve, to your brother and his friends, you had hated him. You had seen him antagonize everyone, from the poor, already outcast nerds, to the popular clique like Steve. Everybody suffered at the hands of Billy, one way or another. Even Max—or, perhaps, especially Max.

Regardless, you hated Billy. And now you had to sit between him and Tommy H, instead of next to your best friend? God, these were going to be a rough couple of hours.

~❊~

On your way out of the gym, you found Steve waiting for you at the door.

"I know you've gotta go pick up Dustin, but after that, do you wanna—"

"Steve, I will do anything you want as long as you let me vent. I can't believe I'm stuck next to Billy Hargrove," you complained.

He snorted. "Yeah, believe me, you're not alone there. Jesus, I wanna punch him again."

"Hey." You put a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't start anything you can't finish."

Steve brushed you off and kept walking. "I didn't say I was going to, just that I want to. And, believe me, I really, really want to."

"We'll just ask Max to do it."

He groaned. "Don't remind me that I needed a twelve-year-old to fight my battles for me."

"She's thirteen." Steve gave you a look. You giggled. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone."

He pushed the front door of the school open and held it for you, following you out. "Okay, so, you need to vent, I want to go out—milkshakes later?"

"Yes, please," you nearly groaned. "But you do realize Dustin is going to want to come, right?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "You don't have to tell him. Just...bring him home and I'll pick you up at one?"

You rolled your eyes back at him. "The instant you show up at our door, Dustin's Steve-senses are going to tingle and he's going to hop in the front seat before I can. He's practically attached at the hip to you."

Steve laughed. "You have a point there. Alright, fine—Dustin, too."

You split away from him to head to your car, only for him to follow you. You realized he'd parked next to you. "We'll meet you at Benny's!" you said, getting into the front seat. He nodded slowly and waved you off. You returned the wave and left the school parking lot behind.

It was only after Steve was just a figure in your rearview mirror that it dawned on you he'd phrased the whole thing differently from just a regular hang-out with the group.

"But after that—"

"I want to go out."

You glanced back out your window, not daring to identify meaning of the twist of anticipation in your chest.

~❊~

Dustin slurped loudly on his almost-finished milkshake. You and Steve, who were only halfway through your own milkshakes, made eye contact over your glasses and giggled.

Your little brother looked up from his glass. "What? What's funny?"

"Nothing," the two of you said in unison. You glanced back up at him and your stomach did flips. The expression on his face looked like your fondness felt. It looked like the face Nancy had described to you, back when she was still sort-of in love with Steve—before Barb died, and before the Upside Down.

You and Nancy lay spread out on her bed, your legs hanging over the end of her bed, her feet curled up behind her, her knees at her pillows. Your hears were right next to each other, turned toward each other so you could see the huge smile on Nancy's face.

She was half an hour deep into telling you about her date with Steve. "And he just...he had this look on his face, you know? Like there was nothing else that mattered. Like I was the only thing left in the world. The only girl left." Without even realizing it, she had brought her hand up to her hair, curling it in her fingers. "His eyes, they were so...so soft and so open. And his hair was falling into his face, he'd been blowing it out of his eyes for hours, it was so cute, ridiculously cute, but he stopped trying to get it out of his face when I giggled at him."

You giggled at her. "You are so in love with him, admit it!"

Her grin got impossibly bigger. "That...that's the thing. I think he wanted to say it to me."

Your eyes widened. "He was gonna tell you he loved you?!"

"I think so," she whispered. "But then the door opened, and it was loud, rowdy teenagers, so we just glanced over at them and started to laugh and—" She giggled. "And then it was gone. But it was there. He wanted to say it to me." She paused and, in a whisper, added, "And I think I wanted to say it back."

You shrieked with joy, reaching for her and tickling. "Nance, oh my God!"

She giggled, batting her hands away. "Stop it, stop it, I can't breathe!"

"Have you told Barb yet?"

Nancy's mood darkened a tad too much for your liking. "I don't think she'd like it. She's not a...huge fan of Steve."

"Oh, come on, if you're happy, she'll be happy for you, right?"

Nancy rubbed her arms. "I don't know. I hope so?"

"Just tell her, Nance, she'll be okay. She'll get it." You grinned at her again. "Oh my God, I can't believe it, you're in love with Steve Harrington!"

You tore your eyes away from Steve, looking back down at the milkshake he had insisted on buying for you.

"Do you think they're going to say our middle names when we graduate?"

"Huh?" You looked up. That expression of Steve's was gone. "Our middle names?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. You know, we're just walking up and they're saying our whole names."

You blinked at him.

"They're supposed to," Dustin said beside you. Your heads turned toward him.

"What?"

"They're supposed to say your middle names. At least, most high schools do it for graduation. Did they not do it during rehearsal today?"

"No," Steve said. He groaned, thumping his head into the table. "Damn it."

"Why?" you asked, giggling at his melodrama.

He lifted his head back up, sipped on his milkshake, and said, "I hate my middle name. I hate it! It's so...stupid."

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again. "Well, now you have to tell me what it is."

Steve scoffed. "Absolutely not."

You leaned forward across the table. "Tell me."

"No," he insisted.

"Yes!"

"No way!"

You found Steve's foot with your own under the table, making him jump. "Come on, Stevie... Just tell us!"

"No!"

"We're gonna find out anyway," Dustin piped up from beside you. "They're gonna say it at graduation!"

Steve shook his head resolutely. "No. They might not, because they didn't at practice, and if they didn't, I'm not embarrassing myself by telling you now."

You rolled your eyes at him. "It can't be that bad. No parent would name their child something that awful."

He snorted. "You have clearly never met my parents."

"No, I have not, but now I would like to," you said. You'd heard him complain about his father being a "grade-A asshole" before, a phrase Nancy had confirmed he'd used multiple times about his father, but you'd never seen just how bad he was.

Steve shook his head, going back to his milkshake. "No, you don't," he said quietly. The look in his eyes—like a sad, lost, kicked puppy—shut you up effectively. So you let it go, drinking your milkshake happily.

Dustin twirled his straw around in the remnants of his whipped cream. "Did I tell you about the project Mr. Clarke gave us? I might need help setting it up, but he wants us to make a machine out of stuff we have around the house."

Steve brightened. "Is it a Rube Goldberg machine? I remember those! I think I used mine to open the door to my patio..."

"Yeah!" Dustin grinned. "Mike, Lucas, Will, Max and I have a contest to see which of us can make the best one. I already know Mike's getting Nancy's help, and Will's getting Jonathan's, and I think Max and Lucas are collaborating to make two separate projects, so I could really use you guys to help..."

In amongst Dustin's chatter, you glanced toward Steve, finding a small smile on his face as he watched the kid talk animatedly. Dustin pulled a napkin toward himself and started sketching out vague plans for his machine. You felt Steve's foot move beside yours. You glanced over at him as he started playing a subtle game of footsie with you under the table.

You stifled a giggle, smiling at him in a way that was far too friendly—or, rather, not friendly enough. That look came back on his face, the lovey dovey look Nancy had gushed so much over. You understood why now. Had the roles been reversed, you would have gone straight to her to tell her all about the way Steve Harrington looked at you like he was in love with you.

That tight feeling in your chest came back, a simmering, traitorous hope nestling in your heart and not once listening to the screams of your brain that you should not, absolutely should not, fall in love with your best friend's ex.

Steve propped his head up with his hand, that dreamy look in his eyes intensifying. His lips pursed slightly before they fell apart, pure wonder in that small, involuntary motion.

To hell with not falling in love with your best friend's ex.

You lifted your foot a little higher, catching the cuff of his jeans and slowly but surely tugging up. Steve gulped, pink dusting his cheeks. You felt a brief but distinct shiver of glee.

Dustin pushed his empty cup away from him, the scraping on the table drawing your attention away from Steve. For a moment, you feared Dustin had caught sight of your not-so-subtle flirting and was about to call you out on it, but then he yawned.

"Can we go home?" he asked you, his sudden tiredness evident in his voice.

"You didn't sleep at all last night at Mike's, did you?" you asked with a sigh. "Because if you had, this sugar would be keeping you bouncing on the walls for the next four to five hours."

He shrugged. "It was a long campaign." His eyes fluttered, his head drooping. His body slid toward you, your shoulder being the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

Love and guilt crashed over you at the same time. "Oh, don't fall asleep on me here, I can't carry you to the car anymore, Dusty—"

"It's okay, I've got him," Steve said. He paid the bill in cash and got up from his side of the booth, gently pulling Dustin out from under the table and out of the restaurant. You followed, a glimmer of warmth in your chest. You'd heard Dustin and the others jokingly refer to Steve as their dad; now you could see why.

You unlocked the car for Steve and he put Dustin in the passenger's seat and buckled him in. Dustin mumbled softly—you were quite sure it was a little 'thank you'—and Steve closed the door as gently as he could.

Steve turned back to you, his hands going to his hips. "He's all yours."

"You'd make a great dad, Steve," you said gently, unable to stop yourself, or keep the gentle smile off your face. And when he smiled back at you, you felt like you had flashed ten years into the future, a mom standing and watching her husband carry their sleeping child to the car, doing everything in his power not to wake him.

"I've, uh, always wanted to be one," Steve said, the admission quiet but confident. "Ever since I knew I could be."

"Oh, Stevie..."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "What? It's just...I like the idea. Of being able to be there for someone and guide someone through life and have a family of my own, you know? Like—a big one. A big, happy family."

"I'm not judging you, Steve," you said, hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "I'm not. It's cute. It's really cute. I'm glad that you know what you want in your future."

He sighed, kicking the ground. "Yeah, well. Doesn't help to know what I want if I can't get there."

You raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

Steve shrugged awkwardly, looking the most helpless you'd ever seen him. "There aren't exactly a line of girls just waiting to make King Steve's dreams come true." He bit his lip. "They just want me for a night, if they even want me at all, and then I don't—" He stopped himself short, taking a deep breath, his eyes dropping to the asphalt beneath you. "I'm sorry, this isn't... This isn't the time or place for this. I'm sorry."

You stepped closer to Steve, leaving only a few inches between you. "Hey," you said softly, bringing his gaze up from the ground and back to you. "It's okay. I understand." You caught his hand in yours. "Steve?"

He hummed, his gaze still on your hand holding his.

"You meant for tonight to be a date, didn't you?"

He blushed, but very slowly, he nodded.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You hesitated, then said, "Do you want a hug?"

The question very nearly made Steve burst into tears. He nodded, accepting your arms around him instantly. He squeezed tightly and you returned the pressure, sensing he needed it. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your ear. "If it was weird, I'm sorry, I should have made it more clear that it was meant to be a date—"

Your hand drifted behind his hand, tangling into his hair. "Don't apologize. You don't have to apologize for wanting to be wanted, Steve. I should have known you wanted it to be just us—and not on babysitting duty." You bit your lower lip, possessed by a sudden boldness. "And, for what it's worth, I'd want you for more than a night."

He went tense and then lax in your arms. "I... What?" He leaned away from you, just enough to see your face but not enough to leave your arms. He whispered your name. "What are you saying?"

You offered him a tiny smile. "I think you know, Steve."

"Say it," he breathed. "Please. Please, I want to hear you say it."

You pressed your forehead to his as his hand lifted to your cheek, fingers brushing over your skin with a reverence you'd never felt before. "I want you for more than one night, Stevie. I want as many night as you'll give me."

The sound he made was both holy and sinful. You really hoped the windows to your car were closed, because that was not a sound you wanted Dustin hearing—especially not from Steve, not while you were wrapped up in his arms and he was in yours.

Steve moved before you did, leaning in but giving you the time and the chance to back away from him. You did the opposite, meeting him in the middle and kissing him softly.

Nancy had not done his kisses justice in her descriptions of them. Though, you had to give her credit, because it was next to impossible to find a good way to describe the gentle pressure of his mouth on yours. There was certainly nothing to compare it to, except for that heady, wonderful feeling of getting out of trouble scot-free, or that beautiful feeling when a choir sings a perfectly arranged chord in a high-ceilinged building.

You whispered his name into his mouth, a prayer on your lips, a desperate cry for more of him. He hummed into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine, and his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer to him and then wrapping around you once more.

"Every night, Steve," you whispered against him when he stopped kissing you to breathe, though his lips remained against yours as his chest heaved. "I want you every night."

He groaned. "Don't say that," he whispered. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

You cupped his face in your hands. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I want you, Stevie. All of you, all of the time."

He whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.

"You know..." His words were choppy, split up by his heavy breaths. "If it weren't for your brother in the car, I'd take you home if you'd let me." You opened your mouth, but he put a finger your lips. "Shhh, don't tell me. Don't tell me if you'd let me. Don't let me know what I'm missing out on."

You smiled at him, toying with the hairs at the back of his head. "Kiss me one more time, Stevie. Please, baby."

He grinned. "Well, because you asked so nicely..." And his lips were on you again, and it took everything in you not to moan your relief that he had kissed you again.

Heaven. His kiss was like absolute heaven.

When he finally let go of you, the air between you had changed, filled with a pleasant glee. For the first time in a long time, you saw that Steve's eyes were bright.

"Get your brother home," he told you. "And I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and, one more thing?"

You reached for his hand, caressing his skin. "Yeah?"

"How about we keep this between us for a few days? Just until graduation." He grinned. "Surprise everybody. I'll walk across the stage and stop to wait for you and we kiss and walk off together—"

"You're forgetting something," you said, shaking your head. "Billy's between us."

Steve's face fell. "I could...wait until he's gone?"

You laughed. "Stevie..."

He sighed. "Well, it was a good idea while it lasted, right?"

"It was cute," you agreed. "Just like you are."

Steve beamed.

"Don't worry—we'll still surprise them all," you said. "We'll just wait until we pose for photos, and right when they snap a picture, we'll lean in and you can give me a big, dramatic kiss, alright?"

"I like that idea just as much," he said, smiling. He nuzzled into you and kissed your cheek. "Get yourself home safe, hun. Okay?"

"Okay," you said. You let go of him slowly, reluctantly getting back in your car. He waited, waving to you as you pulled out of the parking lot, before he got into his own car.

About halfway down the road, Dustin stirred. "I hope the reason you took that long is because you were confessing your feelings for Steve," he said, his voice thick with sleep.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. "Go back to sleep, Dustin."

"So he confessed, too," he mumbled. "Good. You need each other."

You bit back a smile. "Whatever you say, Dustin."

"Yeah...whatever I say..."

~❊~

You stood in line, your heart beating out of your chest. You were surprised no one around you had told you they could hear it.

Billy was standing in front of you, seeming ridiculously tall in his graduation cap and gown. Behind you, the cap and gown seemed to make Tommy even shorter than normal.

"STEVE EUGENE HARRINGTON!"

Your eyes went wide and your head whipped very quickly toward an embarrassed Steve. You'd heard him groan when they had first started graduating seniors by calling middle names, too, but you had not been expecting that.

No wonder he hadn't wanted to tell Dustin—the kid was never going to leave him alone about this.

"WILLIAM DAVID HARGROVE!"

Billy walked. You waited until your name was shouted into the room. You could hear Steve cheer as he went back to his seat, and Dustin cheering up in the stands. You shook Principle Higgins' hand and accepted your diploma, practically glowing and feeling on top of the world.

When you were seated and Tommy H. was following you back to his seat, you leaned forward to see around Billy.

"Eugene?!"

Steve groaned. "Shut up. Please. Please."

"I can see why you didn't want to tell us," you giggled.

Tommy leaned around you. "You know, you could've told them not to say it."

Steve's eyes went huge. "I could have?!"

He was quickly shushed by the administrator guiding students to the stage. Stifling giggles, you and Tommy sat back in your chairs, waiting for the end of the ceremony to tease him endlessly.

~❊~

Lover's Lake in June—busy, overcrowded, full of children.

Lover's Lake in June past six at night—still full of children, but just the ones you were keeping your eyes on with Steve.

The party was having an adventure in the water, shouting at each other, the occasional D&D term thrown in. Max and Eleven were a ways away from the group, shrieking and holding their arms up every time the boys splashed the water too close to them.

Steve looked at his watch. "Hey, guys! It's almost eight! You've got fifteen minutes before we gotta get you home."

Max lifted up a hand, giving him a thumbs up, despite the boys not hearing a thing.

"Especially, you, Dusty, you have to go to camp tomorrow!" you called. You got no response.

"Jesus, they never listen, do they?" Steve sighed.

You leaned into his shoulder. "They listen, they just like yanking your chain."

You and Steve sat together at the edge of a dock, feet in the water, his pants rolled up to his knees and his arm around your shoulders. You held a copy of your graduation photo—the photo, the surprise photo where Steve had turned to you and kissed you right as the camera flashed.

"My mom framed her copy of this, you know," you said, handing him the photo. "It's sitting on the hearth."

He grinned. "I'm glad it turned out so well. I was worried it would be all blurry if I didn't time it right." He nuzzled his face into your temple, pressing a series of quick, gentle kisses there. "How'd Dustin take it?"

You laughed, your eyes straying to your brother, who was being tackled by Lucas. "He already knew! After I got in the car, he told me he hoped the reason it had taken me so long to get in after him was because he wanted us to be confessing our feelings to each other."

Steve snorted, loud in your ear. You shied away and he whispered a quick apology. "Of course he noticed. He notices everything."

"Not that it was hard to see we were hiding something from each other," you added, turning to catch his mouth with your own. He hummed into the kiss. "You spent all of that night looking at me with your 'I love you' eyes."

He raised his brows. "Oh, my 'I love you' eyes, really?"

You nodded, giggling at him and pressing closer to his side. You set the photo down behind you as he pulled you into a hug with both arms.

"Well, you weren't exactly the most subtle, either," Steve said, kissing your nose.

"Oh, yeah? What did I do?"

Steve brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. "Oh, you know, you get this look on your face. When you thought I couldn't see you, I guess. You'd look over and it was like...it was like you'd relax." He smiled. "Like seeing me was all it took to calm you down from whatever stress you had."

You smiled. "Yeah, I guess you do kind of have that effect on me." You ran your gaze over him. "You know...you're giving me those eyes right now."

His voice was nearly a whisper. "Good." Steve kissed you deeply, cupping the side of your face to hold you close to him. "Because I do." He squeezed your hip with his other hand. "Because I do love you."

You stared at him, mouth dropped open.

Steve turned red. "I know it's soon, but I—"

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

"Okay," he whispered, leaning back in. When his lips met yours, you lifted your hand into his hair. He sighed happily into your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your waist.

And then it dawned on you. You pulled back from him. "Steve, it's too quiet."

You both looked at the water, half-expecting the kids to be gone, but they were all still in the lake—treading water and staring, silently, at you and Steve.

"What?" Steve asked slowly.

Dustin made a face. "Dude. My sister."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Dude. My girlfriend!"

"You're just as bad as El and Mike," Will groaned, setting off the shouting once more.

Steve glanced at you. "We're not that bad, are we?"

You shrugged. "I don't think so."

He kissed you again. "That's all that matters." He looked back at the kids. "Alright, come on, out of the water! You're not getting in my car soaking wet."

While the kids groaned and complained, Steve stood and offered you his hand to help you up. You took it, kissing his cheek once you were upright. His hand still in yours, you made your way to the car.

Dustin called your name. "Have you seen my towel?"

"Right here, Henderson," Steve laughed. He picked it up from the chair it was flopped over and handed it to him. You leaned into Steve, letting go of his hand so he could wrap his arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head.

"See?" you whispered to him. "Good dad."

A glint entered Steve's eyes. "Someday," he said, and you got the feeling his someday included you.

You covered his hand on your hip with your own and looked up at him. "I love you, Stevie."

"Still my sister, Steve!"

Steve didn't take his eyes off you and his voice was soft, too soft for Dustin to hear. "Still my girlfriend, Henderson."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

[carnivalteller]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

billy loomis/reader/stu macher

summary: you’re exploring new relationships after a rough breakup with one of the more ‘popular’ boys.

tags: arguments, jealousy, crying, emotional hurt/comfort, eventually making up, protective billy and stu, small fights, toxic ex boyfriends, brooke and emma are good friends

recap: Billy digests his best friend’s words. Sidney, or the two people that provide him with shelter when his asswipe dad and deadbeat mom throw him out, the people who hold him and laugh with him… the people he’s grown to care for. “Whatever man.” Billy grumbles, getting up. “Don’t go, dude…” Stu sighs, yet Billy leaves, shutting your door behind him. He wouldn’t go far, Stu knew that. He’d probably go for a walk and clear his head then come back. Melting into your hold, Stu decides on taking a quick nap, tired after the confrontation. He can only hope that things smooth over.

🎪 please do not repost, plagiarise or translate my work, even with ‘credit’. reblogs and feedback are okay/appreciated! recommendations to other people on other platforms is okay/incredibly sweet :) ty!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

── ⋆⋅ ▬ι═ﺤ ⋅⋆ ──

Billy didn’t come back that night. Stu explained to you briefly why and what had transpired. You were upset, as you had the right to be, yet Stu was nice about it. The two of you decided on going to the local coffee shop, and Stu gets to know your friend Emma a little more. She’s sweet and gives you both your coffees on a ‘friend-discount’. The two of you chat briefly before leaving before you held up a line, and Stu notices you seem a little happier. He has no shame holding your hand in public. The two of you weren’t entirely official, yet you both kind of enjoyed the PDA. Billy never indulged it, always rather standoffish in public. You never pressure him, giving him a kind smile and only sometimes gently touching his arm or back in public when he’s busy doing something.

You and Stu walk into the local DVD store- which doubled as a comic store too, deciding on picking some new horror movies for the typical movie night you all held every Friday. You’ve stepped away, letting the ‘horror movie connoisseur’ (as Stu called himself) do his work. You’re browsing new issues of comics, none of them really catching your eye as you wait for Stu to come over. “Y/n?” A familiar voice makes your blood run cold, and you tense. You don’t turn, pretending not to have heard him. “Y/n, is that you?” A hand grasps your shoulder, forcing you to face him. Chandler. Your asshole ex boyfriend who left you high and dry on prom night whilst he banged Jennie Hawkins in the locker room. You were so lucky Stu and Billy were there for you. “What do you want, Chandler?” You ask, pulling away. “Look, babe- I’m so sorry-“

“Oh my God, don’t even right now. Get away from me!” You interrupt, pushing him slightly. Chandler doesn’t move, and keeps going. “Would you just listen? It was a one time thing!” He complains, grabbing both your arms in a tight grip. “Really? Because Brooke said otherwise. Did you really forget she was friends with Jennie for a while.” You deadpan, pushing against his chest; only for Chandler to tighten his grasp. It was beginning to hurt, so much you thought he might leave bruises. “That bitch doesn’t know anything! Come on, babe- don’t you trust me?”

“Get the fuck off her man!” Another voice snaps, pulling Chandler from you, yet almost pulling you with him. Shocked, your ex lets go, stumbling into a rack of comics and tumbling everything into clutter on the floor. “What the fuck dude?!” Chandler straightens up, puffing out his chest. “What the fuck is right, you didn’t hear her? She doesn’t want anything to do with you.” Billy snaps, ready to swing. “Oh- I know you. Billy Loomis, right? Town heartthrob.” Chandler chuckles, jutting his finger into Billy’s chest. The other narrows his eyes, readying to fight, even if everyone was looking. “You definitely stole her from me.” Chandler snarks, and Billy huffs out a sour laugh. “Nah, man. Not me, but thanks for the opportunity.” Billy gives a smile, it’s teasing and mocking. Chandler grows red in the face. “Oh yeah? If you didn’t steal her from me-“

“Hey, man. She’s not an object. Quit talking about her like that!” Stu frowns, approaching behind Chandler. All focus shifts to him. “She’s my girlfriend!” Chandler snaps, and Billy huffs out a laugh. “Not anymore she’s not.” He crosses his arms. “Didn’t we make that clear on prom night?” He reminds, and Chandler lets out a sour laugh. “You’re fucking both of them aren’t you, whore?” You sink back a little, back hitting the shelf. You want the world to swallow you whole and never spit you out again. “I knew it. I fucking knew it! Whatever. You’re fucking ugly and bad at giving head anyway. Enjoy my sloppy seconds freaks.” Chandler goes to storm off, but Billy snatches his shoulder, fist connecting with your ex’s mouth with a satisfying crack. Chandler stumbles to the floor, cradling his jaw in pain as he whines. A few choked noises escape his mouth as he attempts to talk, blood spilling past his lips. Billy leans down to his level, face close to his. “Enjoy broken teeth, asshole.” He snarls, grabbing your hand tightly as he extracts you from the crowd that had gathered. Stu decides on spitting at Chandler and flipping him off before trailing after the two of you.

“What the fuck-“ you begin, yet Billy raises his hands. “Look- Stu probably told you everything but I wanna say I’m sorry.” He tells you, and you scoff out a laugh. “Okay, sure. You’re ‘sorry’, but that doesn’t excuse assaulting my ex!” You complain, and Billy laughs. “He’s a fucking prick! You know that better than anyone!” He argues, gesturing with his hand. You notice some blood seeping from his knuckles and sigh. “He is, but you can get into serious trouble if he presses charges!” You cross your arms, noticing Stu lingering by. “Look, whatever, thank you for helping me… but I have a quick question.” You state, not letting him respond. “If you didn’t come back to mine last night, where were you?” You ask, relishing the silence. You already knew the answer. “So I went to Sidney’s so what?” Billy replies, and you let out a short laugh. “You slept with her, didn’t you?” You challenge, narrowing your eyes. Billy falls silent, not openly wanting to admit the truth. You roll your eyes, pulling his collar away from his neck. “You fucking slept with her. Are you kidding?! I couldn’t give a rats ass if you wanted to truly be with her but don’t give me false hope in the meantime!” You snap, eyes watering a little as you storm off. Stu gives Billy a sad look before jogging after you. “Baby, wait up.” He calls, falling into step beside you. “Come on, let’s go back to the café. You’re upset.” He mumbles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and gently rubbing your arm.

You end up in the far end café booth, crying softly as Emma and Brooke sit across from you and Stu. “He sounds like a cunt.” Brooke deadpans, pushing her cuticles back with a wooden stirrer. “Brooke!” Emma gasps, nudging her. “What? He does.” The blonde responds, glancing at Stu who sighs a little. “He can be, but still- he’s a good person.” He defends, unsure if he even can. “Is he? Do good people cheat?” Brooke asks sarcastically, watching Emma get up. “I’m gonna get everyone a refill.” She sighs, picking up the mugs. “Oh, Ems! Get me a strawberry and cream frappe please.” Brooke smiles innocently, “and an extra hot chocolate for y/n.” She adds on, grasping your hands and laying them before her on the table before grabbing some nail polish from her purse. “It’s self care time, baby, don’t worry.” Brooke smiles, gently patting your hands. You smile a little, sniffling. “Thanks, Brooke.”

“No problem.” The popular girl chirps, carefully pressing back your cuticles and deciding on filing your nails before applying the first coat. “Don’t get that everywhere or my boss will kill me!” Emma scolds, setting the drinks down. “Yeah, yeah. We won’t.” Brooke waves her off, blowing on your wet nails. You nudge Stu’s outer thigh with your knee, meeting his gaze with your watery one. You smile, it’s weak and small. “Thanks for coming after me, Stu. You didn’t have to.” You tell him, and he smiles brightly. “Of course I would. I couldn’t just let you wander around and get lost or hurt or harassed, or something.” Stu shrugs, leg linking with yours under the table. You carefully pick up your mug, sipping your coffee. “Uh, oh… trouble at 12 o’clock.” Brooke mumbles, sipping her frappe as she looks over your shoulder. You turn, and sure enough Billy is there. “Aw he brought flowers… maybe he is sorry.” Emma mumbles as Stu untangles his leg from yours, getting up to confront his best friend. You turn away from Billy’s kicked-puppy look, paying attention to Brooke as she begins telling a story.

“What’re you doing here man?” Stu asks, voice tired. “I uh… I ran all over town looking for you guys. I wanted to say I’m sorry, to both of you.” He mumbles, averting his saddened gaze. “I was just… mad… I had no where else to go, so I went to Sid’s.” He sighs, and Stu chuckles a little. “You did have somewhere to go. You could of come back.” He challenges, and Billy flinches. “Yeah… you’re right.” He admits, plastic wrap around the flowers crinkling in his nervous grasp. “It’s alright, man… but I’m not the one you should apologise to.” Stu looks at you, watching you giggle with Emma and Brooke. “You’re lucky she’s not in meltdown mode, her friends are great.” He adds on, and Billy nods. Mulling up his courage, he approaches the table. Brooke gives him an unsure look as he stands next to the table. You dip your head a little, mood seemingly deflating a little. “I uh… I’m sorry, y/n.” He mutters, and Brooke plainly laughs at him. “That’s it? You cheated and that’s what you have to say?” She snarks, and Emma sighs. “Brooke…” she silently scolds, and she simply giggles. “Its okay, Billy.” You sigh, and he feels like the world just forgave him unanimously. “No, it isn’t.” Brooke snaps. Well, almost the whole world.

“No Brooke it’s fine. We’re not even official and I’m just a clingy mess. I’m sorry, Billy. You can see Sidney if you want to.” You sigh as Stu leans over the back of the booth, head resting atop your head. “No, don’t be sorry, you’re right. It’s stupid of me to even consider seeing Sidney… if I want to be involved with you, I’ve got to let her go.” Billy sits beside you, meeting your gaze. You give him a small smile as he hugs you tight, ignoring Emma’s soft ‘awe’. “Hey, what about me?” Stu jokes, hugging you both over the booth. “Um hello? What about my nails.” Brooke interrupts, and you pull away. “Sorry, Brooke.” You mumble, smiling at her as you give her your hands.

The day ends rather nicely, and you head home. Your mother’s car is in the driveway, and you smile. Walking inside, you let Stu close the door behind you all. “Mom..!” You call, and she peers around the border of the kitchen door. “Hey, honey! Have you brought friends?” She asks, dipping back into the kitchen. The smell of food fills your senses and so you walk into the kitchen. “Yeah. It’s Billy and Stu, remember? From prom night?” You ask, and your mother thinks for a brief moment. “Oh, of course. It’s hard to forget them.” She smiles, checking the oven. “What’re you making?” You ask, noticing how tired her eyes looked. “Your favourite, lasagna.” She smiles, and you perk up a little. “Thanks, mom.” You smile back, and she nods. “I try. This one isn’t homemade this time.” She jokes and you fondly remember the two of you crying with laughter over the mess of a lasagna. “There’s enough for your friends.” She states, glancing at the two as they awkwardly hover by the door. “Hi, mrs l/n. Been staying out of trouble.” Stu smiles, and she chuckles. “As long as you’ve been getting into plenty.” She replies teasingly, watching his smug smile rise. Her attention shifts to Billy, watching him shuffle anxiously. “Are you alright, hun?” She asks softly, and he immediately nods. “Yes, ma’am.” He responds, almost automatically. “Oh, dear. I’m way too young to be a ‘ma’am’. Sharon will do.” She smiles, and you chuckle as Billy nods.

“Stay out of trouble, and try not to make too much noise tonight! I’ve got to get up early!” Your mother calls up the stairs after dinner. “Yes, mom!” You reply, walking into your room with a large stretch. “Home sweet home.” Stu jokes, flopping onto your bed. “Throw me the movie, I’ll put it on.” Billy states as Stu rifles through his bag, throwing some new low-budget horror film his way. “This looks awful.” Billy deadpans as he examines the front cover. “Read the back, man. It seems interesting.” Stu replies as you join him on the bed. “Whatever you say.” Billy mutters, skimming over the blurb before putting it into your dvd player and turning on your tv. He joins the two of you, your body squished between them. “You staying tonight?” You ask softly, and Billy hums. “Yeah. I’m staying.” He responds, catching a glimpse of a small smile on Stu’s lips. “Great.” You mumble, wrapping your arms around his torso as you huddle into him. Billy hums, arm wrapping around your middle. Stu’s arms encase you both, as per usual, and as per usual you fall asleep about half an hour into the movie. Billy stays close to you, arms wrapped tightly around you. He feels happier with you than he has the past week talking with Sidney and he’s not planning on leaving you again.

[gloomysoup]

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 3

happy holidays to all who celebrate! as it stands, i'm posting this on christmas eve after a full evening with my dad's mom and his siblings and all my cousins, before i go to bed to deal with even more family all day tomorrow (we have my mom's side in the morning for brunch and then my dad's dad's house in the late afternoon/evening) BUT i did FINALLY get this part figured out and i couldn't wait to share it! i would apologize, but we all know i'm not actually sorry... oops

anyway i hope you all enjoy it!

ao3 pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

cw: mentions and discussions of drug use, addiction, sobriety, relapse, referenced overdose, etc. y'know, the usual

The first time Steve ever got high, he was fourteen. Tommy had scored some weed off one of the older basketball guys, Steve’s parents were gone for a weekend. It was perfect. Steve, Tommy, and Carol laid back on the roof of Steve’s childhood home, overlooking the blue glow of the pool and the line of trees beyond the yard, passing a joint back and forth. It was a warm buzz, making his head go all fuzzy. It was nice. Until it wasn't, at least. He liked the feeling of being high. What he didn't like was what came after.

The comedown from that first high was rough, to say the least. Carol was fine; Steve didn't know why it didn't affect her as badly. Steve and Tommy, however, were not so lucky.

It was a while before he ever smoked weed again. He never did anything more than that, though there were plenty of opportunities. And he never smoked alone. It was always parties, or hang outs with Tommy and Carol. It slowed down when he met Nancy. She wasn't a fan of drugs, and always asked him to stop. He never could, but he definitely cut back. Then Nancy shattered his heart, so he picked it back up again. Started smoking on his own. Anything to chase the free feeling of the high. He spent so many nights trying to escape his nightmares and heavy thoughts. He smoked until his head was floating in the clouds. He kept the high until he ultimately passed out, hard, into a fairly dreamless sleep.

And then Starcourt happened.

That was a different high. Slower. It was loose lips, but firm thought. Tethered, but not quite there. It took longer to hit the peak, to really float. When he finally hit it, it was the best he'd felt in a long time. And then he came crashing down. It was the worst he'd felt in his life, aside from the time Billy bashed his head in with a plate. It sucked. It ruined weed for him, if he was honest. Every time he tried after that, his body panicked. His brain would get fuzzy, he'd start to float, and then he'd seize up. His brain would shock him back into reality. He vowed, with the help of Robin, to never get high again. He would finally quit. It wasn't worth the panic attacks and anxiety and trauma response that came with it anymore. He was successful for a while, at least. He'd been sober for almost a year.

That didn't last long after the final battle with Vecna. He and Eddie were friends. They were starting to grow into a little more than that. Steve’s nightmares were awful again. His body was sore and his scars stretched uncomfortably every time he moved. It was Eddie who initially suggested weed, even though he had stopped smoking himself.

“It's actually a pretty good method for pain management,” he said with a shrug. “You just gotta be careful about it. Stick to the natural stuff.”

Eddie didn't know that Steve was sober. Steve never told him. He'd been itching for a good high again anyway; something to clear his head, take some of the pain away, get a good night’s sleep for once. Eddie had handed him an extra joint, leftover from his own stash that he hadn't touched in weeks. Steve went home that night and lit a joint for the first time in almost a year. His sobriety went down the drain, just like that. The worst part? He didn’t even regret it. Not one bit.

He didn't tell Robin. He couldn't. He knew she'd be disappointed in him. She would go back to watching him like a hawk, following him around, and never leaving him alone long enough to even think about getting high. She'd spend every night with him, just like she did those first few months before. He couldn't let her do that to herself again. Not when she was doing so well with Vickie. He wasn't going to ruin her good thing with his own problems. So Robin never knew he relapsed. And Eddie never knew that he was supposed to be sober. He never told a soul.

Steve carried it with him for years. Every time he lit a joint instead of a cigarette, he thought about Robin. Two puffs in, he wasn’t thinking about her anymore, just how nice it felt. He smoked until his head was empty and floating, and then he smoked some more. He smoked by himself a lot. Then the band got recognized, and they were all smoking again too. Steve would smoke with them any chance he got. He never told anyone the secrets he was hiding. He never told anyone the weed wasn’t quite enough anymore. He was perfectly content with what he had, sure, but some deep part of him itched for more. He got cross-faded more times than he could count, just to feel something more.

His first experience with harder drugs was at a party with the band. Their manager had gotten them an invite for promotional purposes. There were supposed to be some high-end producers and such they wanted to network with, and Steve always went with them to these sorts of things. It was innocent, at first. Steve stepped out on the back deck of whatever big shot artist’s house they were at to light a cigarette while Eddie talked music with some people in the living room.

He took a deep inhale, feeling the nicotine saturate his lungs before he blew out the smoke. What he really wanted was some weed, but Eddie had it all on him and Steve didn't want to bother them. This was good for the band. They needed this. Still, a cigarette couldn't only do so much for the itch under Steve’s skin. He had a beer on the railing in front of him, but that's not what he needed. He took another inhale, holding it, hoping it would keep him satisfied until Eddie brought him a joint. It wasn't really working, but Steve was trying to convince himself otherwise.

“Mind if I join you?”

Steve turned to see a slightly older man standing in the doorway. He vaguely recognized him as another musician, but couldn't place his name. “No, not at all. Honestly, I could probably use the company.”

The man nodded and stepped onto the deck, closing the sliding glass door behind him. He took up a place beside Steve, holding out his hand. “Billy.”

Steve laughed at the irony and took his hand. “Of course you are. I'm Steve.”

Billy gave him a curious look. “Something wrong with my name, Steve?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. It's just a little funny, I guess. I knew a guy named Billy once. Broke a plate over my head, gave me a nasty concussion, and then he died a few months later in a fire at the mall I used to work at. The universe likes to have a good laugh, apparently.”

“Ah, yeah, I'd probably feel the same way then.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a joint, gesturing toward Steve. “Mind if I light?”

“Only if you share,” Steve replied with a laugh before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Of course, man.” Steve watched Billy pull a lighter from his pocket and light the joint, taking a puff before holding it out toward Steve.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette on the wood railing before taking the joint between his fingers. He took a deep drag, holding it for one, two, three seconds, and then breathing it out slowly. He looked up at the stars as he passed it back. “God, that's exactly what I needed.”

“Tough day?”

Steve shrugged. “More like a tough life. I'd usually be smoking by now anyway, but my, uh, friend has all the weed on him. He's busy talkin’ shop with some other music guys in there, and I didn't wanna bother them. It's important to him.”

“Not your scene then, I take it?”

Steve huffed, taking the joint back between his fingers. “I'm more… emotional support for his band, I guess. Though, I'm not sure they ever needed it. They do just fine on their own.”

“I'm sure they appreciate it anyway.” Billy glanced back at the house as he took the last drag before putting it out. “What do you say we go back in, Steve? I know a guy upstairs with something a little better than weed, if you're interested.”

“Hell, at this point, I might try just about anything. I don't do needles, though. Bad experiences and all.”

Billy laughed and motioned with his head. “Promise, no needles unless you ask.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Steve was floating on the best high of his life. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he didn't really care. He hung out upstairs with Billy and some other industry people for God only knows how long, smoking and laughing and snorting lines of cocaine. Eventually, Steve stumbled his way back downstairs with Billy, laughing the whole way. He bumped into Eddie, physically running into his back where he was scanning the house.

Eddie turned and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, holding him up. “There you are. I was wondering where you went.”

“Eddie!” Steve exclaimed, grinning brightly. He turned to Billy, who had his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Billy, Billy, this is him. This is Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah! So you're Eddie! You've- you've got a good one, man. Steve's such a riot.”

Eddie seemed taken aback at first, looking between the two of them. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in Steve’s slightly disheveled appearance and wide eyes. “Steve, are you high right now?”

Steve giggled, leaning his face into Eddie’s neck. “Soooo high, baby. I feel great.”

“Alright, I think it's time we go home,” Eddie declared. “Come on, let's go find the guys.”

“But I don't wanna leave,” Steve whined with a pout. “I wanna dance, Eddie. Can't we dance? Please?”

“We can dance at home, Steve. Come on. It's time to go.”

“No fun,” he huffed.

“Steve, look, here, I’ll give you my number,” Billy said, still leaning heavily against him. “You call me. We’ll hang out again sometime, yeah?”

“Definitely. Definitely do that.”

It took Eddie fifteen minutes to drag Steve through the house and track down the rest of his friends. When they found the rest of them, Jeff frowned at Steve.

“What's up with him? Is he okay?”

“Apparently the whole time we were talking to that producer, my boyfriend was getting high off his ass with Billy Corgan. I'm sure he’ll be fine once he sleeps it off.”

“Wait, Billy Corgan?” Gareth asked, eyes wide. “Like the Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins?”

“Apparently they're best friends now.”

“Oh, yeah, Billy’s great,” Steve said through another bout of giggles, leaning all his body weight on Eddie. He cupped his hand around his mouth to whisper, but it wasn't really a whisper. “He knows who has all the good shit, guys.”

“Okay, he is really high,” Grant said. “Guess that's our cue to leave?”

“I don't care if you guys want to stay, but I'm taking Steve home. Just didn't wanna leave without letting you know.”

When Steve and Eddie finally got back to the apartment, Steve sloppily kissed Eddie in the entryway. His hand slipped under Eddie’s shirt, but Eddie pulled him back.

“Baby, no, not tonight,” he murmured. He pushed a lock of hair from Steve’s face. “You're too high for that right now. You need sleep.”

“Want you, though,” Steve whispered, ducking down to suck at his jaw and throat.

“Steve, no. I'm serious. You need to sleep this off.”

Steve huffed, a pout on his full lips. Eddie kissed him softly before wrapping his arm around his waist and leading him to the bedroom. Steve slumped back against the bed immediately upon impact. Eddie carefully and gently undressed him before tucking him into bed. He brought a water bottle and some meds for the morning, placed them on the bedside table, and then changed his own clothes. Steve was out like a light, snoring softly. Eddie held him all night, unable to sleep. He'd never seen Steve get that high before. Part of him worried it was more than weed, but he trusted Steve. He'd ask him in the morning, but he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't think Steve would do more than that. He didn't think he had to worry.

The next morning, Eddie made sure Steve was safe and okay before bringing it up.

“So, last night,” he said over breakfast, poking around at the scrambled eggs he'd whipped up for them.

“Oh, right! How'd it go with that, what was he, a producer?”

“It was fine, but that's not what I'm talking about, Steve.”

Steve frowned. “What is it then?”

Eddie swallowed, not looking at Steve. “You were really high when I finally found you after you wandered off. I need you to be honest, Steve. What did you take?”

“It was weed, Ed. Strong weed, but just weed.”

“You promise?” He looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “You promise it's just weed, Steve? I can’t- You have to understand how dangerous that other shit is. I can't lose you to it.”

Steve smiled so easily, like he wasn't lying right to Eddie’s face. Like he didn't have a baggie of coke in the pocket of his jeans, which were laying on the bedroom floor. “I promise that's all it is.”

And Eddie believed him, like an idiot. He trusted him, because it was so easy to fall for those eyes and that smile. He didn't think Steve would ever do anything like that. He had no reason to believe otherwise. He didn't know that Steve had been sober for almost a year before that spring break from Hell.

Steve lied for years, to everyone. He was good at it. It was easy. He didn't even think twice before the lies tumbled past his lips. The problem was how simple it was to score. How easy. He never had to turn far. He was listed as a personal assistant to the band. He was handing drugs to pass on to them all the time, but Corroded Coffin didn't do any of that stuff. They always turned it down. They knew what it did to people, especially in the industry. It was a dangerous thing. Every time the members ignored the drugs being passed to them, Steve slipped them in his pocket instead. No one ever noticed. The more fame and recognition the band got, the easier it became for Steve to score whatever he wanted. Pills, tabs, cocaine, heroin, the works. He never strayed far from coke and pills, still wary of needles from the Russians, but it was a high he couldn't get with weed alone. It was addicting. He wouldn't have been able to stop on his own even if he wanted to.

He snuck off to do a line or two every chance he got. If the band’s backs were turned for even a few seconds, he was popping a couple of colorful pills. He smoked weed every other night, whenever Eddie wanted to smoke. He smoked on his own occasionally, slowing down his body through the rush of a good high. It was nothing like he’d ever experienced before, and he couldn't get enough of it.

Then he was at the biggest show of Eddie’s career. Sold out at Madison Square Garden. Roaring crowds, electricity flowing through Steve’s veins. He was only going to do a quick line. He just wanted to keep the energy, soothe the itch. One line turned to two, then three, then some pills. Then everything went dark.

The first thought to cross his mind as his vision tunneled and his body began to shut down was that he should have told them the truth. He never should have lied to Eddie, or Robin. He never should have taken that joint from Eddie all those years ago. He should still be sober. But he wasn't, and now he was going to die, and it's his own fault. He fell to his vices. He didn't talk to Robin, like he always promised he would do if the urges came back. Instead, he got into the harder stuff, and now it was going to kill him. The clock had finally run out. The Reaper was knocking on his door.

That would be the end of Steve Harrington.

-----

tag list: @mugloversonly @djohawke @acowardinmordor @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @slowandsteddie @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @canmargesimpson

(if you saw this upload twice no you didn't. i definitely didn't forget the tag list)

[k-marzolf]

Atom to Atom.

*awkward!Reader, nerdy jokes, alcohol consumption, fluff & angst, mentions of Billy’s abandonment, touch starved!Reader, fem!reader*

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

Summary: You attempt to pick Billy up at a bar.

&&&&&

You were out of place in New York and at a bar of all places. That’s where you met him. You remember being dazzled by his smile and beautiful dark eyes.

You were just a brilliant farm girl in the big city.

You’d marched straight over to him, trying to look confident like the ladies that were eyeing him. He looked over, “Hey, pretty girl.”

“Do you know why you can’t trust Atoms?” You asked, biting your lip.

God, you were such a dork. He was gonna be turned off.

He’d raised an eyebrow, “No.”

“They make up everything.” You’d snorted, trying to contain your laughter, but it spilled over.

His dark chuckle was like velvet sliding down your spine; “You’re so cute,” he said, smiling. “Billy.”

You gave him your name, mesmerized by him. “Did my pick up line work?” You asked, hopefully.

He laughed richly; “Oh, I’m smitten.” He teased you.

You grinned, maybe this flirting thing wasn’t as hard as you thought. “Can I take you home?”

Billy stood up, grabbing his jacket, “Sure, sweetness.”

Your smile lit up your entire face.

x

Your apartment was warm, filled with plants and books, and little knick knacks. “What kind of tea do you like, Billy?” You asked, rummaging around in your cupboard.

“Surprise me, sweetness.” He said, eyeing the daisies on your table, before turning back to the bookshelf. You had Edgar Allan Poe, Jane Austen, Tolkien, Kafka, and then…a children’s book, Peter Rabbit.

It only sweetened Billy’s view of you. He straightened up as you approached him, your cheeks warm, giving him his tea. “Chamomile tea.” You said, looking where his gaze was, as he took the teacup.

At your collection of Children’s books.

“Never got to be a girl, always alone on my grandfather’s farm, milking cows and chasing chickens,” you said softly, “so when I moved here I bought all the children’s books I could. I know it’s silly.” You mumbled, sitting down.

Billy hummed, “I get it. I had to grow up fast too in the group home. My mom safe havened me in Albany at a fire station.” He said, circling the rim of the teacup with his fingers, surprised to have divulged something so personal to a stranger.

But you made him feel safe with your disarming and gentle personality. Not many people made Billy feel comfortable right away.

“We could read them together, if you wanted.” You offered, sipping your tea, showing him no pity, he was relieved.

Billy smiled, feeling warmth flood his insides. “I’d like that.” He said, voice deep, warm.

You looked like a child at Christmas. “Really?” You asked excitedly.

“Really.” He said, sipping his own tea. Billy was never one for tea, but this was good.

“I don’t know anyone here, except those I work with at the bookstore.” You said in a rush, knee bouncing, “I’m always alone otherwise, but sometimes it’s nice to be alone with someone.”

Billy hummed, reaching forward touching your knee, “We can be alone together.” He kissed your forehead, beard tickling your skin.

You finished your tea, cheeks hot. You’d never had anyone show you affection, but it made you giddy. It felt good to have made a new friend.