#check under his bed for the bat so Steve just kept it. The same thing happened with Nancy's gun from season 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

my-emotional-self · 3 years

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Toxic Love Chapter 10

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

Steve ripped his hand away from your throat and he took a large step backwards, far away from you. To say you were disappointment was an understatement. What did you do wrong? Why was he acting like your skin had burned him? You would give anything to feel his hands back on you.

As Bucky approached, you could feel his eyes on you, but you couldn’t stop looking at Steve. Your eyes bore into him, pleading, begging for him to touch you again. But it was no use. Fear flooding throughout you. He was going to leave you wasn’t he?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Steve commanded, “Open her door.”

The door to your room opened and Steve, much gentler this time, pulled you into your room. “You are to stay in here until I figure out what to do with you.”

As Steve left, he slammed the door shut. Your jaw clenched as you leaped forward and to your dismay, found the door locked.

“ARGH!” you screamed, fists pounding on the door. “FUCK YOU STEVE! I FUCKING HATE YOU! OPEN THE DOOR!! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR AND LET ME OUT!”

~~~

“What the hell is happening?” Bucky asked as he and Steve made their way into the living room. The sounds of your screaming getting quieter the farther they moved away.

Steve sat down on the couch, head in hands and elbows resting on his knees. He didn’t even know what to think of the last ten minutes that transpired. He felt the couch dip next to him, Bucky sitting down, worry etched in his eyes.

Steve let out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he turned to face Bucky. “We got into a fight upstairs in the kitchen. She had been awake all night working and didn’t even go to bed. I scolded her. Told her she needed to get to bed and get rest. She flipped her shit Buck,” Steve spoke. The anger he had was gone now, replaced with his own worry. “She threw a glass plate at my head.”

“What?” Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, not even believing it himself.

The two of them sat there in silence for a few minutes. “What was with your hand on her neck then?”

Again, Steve shook his head. “She did that Buck. She put my hand on her neck. It’s like she wasn’t herself. There was something dark behind her eyes. It didn’t feel right.”

“I mean, she has seemed like she’s been a bit more agitated lately. Have you noticed that too?”

Steve nodded, agreeing with Bucky. You had seemed more irritably and agitated over the last few days when they called you to check in with you. But they didn’t think anything of it.

“Maybe there is something she’s not telling us,” Bucky spoke up, breaking the silence over the two men. “We can always have Stark try to look into things.”

Steve thought about it for a moment. He wanted to trust you and preferred not to check into your background. But at the same time, if this is something serious, he wanted to be able to help you. He wanted you, him and Bucky to be a solid trio together. He didn’t want any problems to come between you three.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to Tony about it.”

~~~

The carpet was beginning to wear down as you paced back and forth in your room. The door was still locked. You felt like a caged lion, ready to attack. Every few minutes you checked the door only to find it still locked. They couldn’t keep you locked in here forever, could they? No, you wouldn’t let that happen.

You were unsure of how long you had been locked up when there came a knock at your door.

“Y/N, can we come in?” Steve asked, voice firm but no hint of anger and that only pissed you off even more.

“Fuck you Steve!” you yelled as you kicked the door, hoping he heard it.

“Y/N,” Bucky began to say but you cut him off.

“Fuck you too Bucky!”

“Hey! What did I do?” Bucky asked, hurt in his voice.

You felt like you were spinning completely out of control. The last time it got this bad, you were with John and it was because he took your medications from you. He told you that you didn’t need to be on them. Sure enough, you began to act out and John didn’t like it one bit. When you were punished for acting out in front of him, the punishments were always physical in some way. Is that why you were pent up more than ever? Because John always beat the anger out of you when you acted this way?

“Just leave me alone!” you roared as tears streamed down your cheeks. So much anger and sadness and hate was swirling inside of you and you didn’t know how to cope or deal with it.

You needed to drown your sorrows, you needed to get out of your head, you needed to feel pain. It was in that moment, you knew what you had to do.

Marching into the bathroom, you pulled out your makeup bag from under the counter and dug through until you found silver box cutter.

Taking the blade out, you rolled your sleeve up. It had been years since you had cut. Because John always helped with the pain. He was the one that gave you the pain and that always helped ease the outburst.

Placing the silver metal to your skin, you pushed down. Blood seeped out of the cut as you dragged the blade across your skin, back and forth. Instantly you began to feel relief. Your mind was fixated on the burning pain of your wrist rather than being stuck in your head. Blood smeared across your delicate wrist by the time you were done. There wasn’t enough blood to be concerned about, no mass amount of blood loss or anything like that. But it was enough. Enough to get out of your head, even if it was briefly.

After washing off the blood, only deep red gashes were left on your skin and you pulled your sleeve back down; the razor blade going right back into your makeup bag and under the counter.

Now you were exhausted. Your bed was calling your name and you curled up into your silk sheets. You cried yourself to sleep.

~~~

It was dark when you woke up. You winced when you brushed your arm against your thigh; the pain a welcome feeling.

Looking at the clock, it was just after midnight. And you weren’t feeling much better. Sure, the pain helped with the anger, but now you just wanted to drown your feelings. And you wanted a cigarette. Lucky for you there was a 24/7 hour liquor store a few blocks away from the tower.

Changing into a pair of dark washed skinny jeans, you put a long black and gray flannel over your long sleeved shirt and slipped on a pair of shoes.

Grabbing your credit card and I.D., you headed to the door. Where you stopped dead in your tracks. They had locked you in here. Holding your breath, you turned the door knob and nearly jumped for joy at the fact that the door was now unlocked.

Walking down the hallway, you flipped off Steve’s door with your middle finger, pushed open the door to the stairs and ran like a bat out of hell.

~~~

That evening, Steve lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Bucky had been called on a last minute short mission with Natasha.

Steve couldn’t comprehend what had happened to you. Why were you acting out all of a sudden? Was he and Bucky not giving you enough attention? Was there something that you were hiding from them that they could possibly help you with? He had seen the anger in your eyes. Heard the anger in your voice. He didn’t know you could even have that kind of anger inside of you. From the short amount of time that he had known you, he just didn’t think it possible. You seemed perfect. Sure, everyone had flaws, but when he was being a total jerk to you that first night you met, you still forgave him. Not everyone would have done that.

As he lay in bed, his mind replayed memories of him and Bucky in the past during the war. He could understand the anger that you had, even though he didn’t know the reasoning behind it. When him and Bucky were in the war, they had so much anger in them too. It was because of the war. The war did things to them. They had been rough with women during the war because of it. At the time, they only had each other’s marks. They liked to share women together. Hell, Steve had to admit it was nice getting that anger out. They never once hit the women; that wasn’t in their nature. But god were they rough with them in bed. He found out that some women even liked it, which honestly surprised him for the 40’s.

But that was back then. When he woke up from the ice, he had noticed he had another new mark right below Bucky’s and he was delighted. He had another soulmate out there and he’d have a chance to be happy again since Bucky was gone. Or so he thought. When he found out Bucky was alive and well, he was even more ecstatic. To have his best friend, his brother back and to share a woman together was a dream for them.

He hadn’t had any of that anger recently, not like he had in the war. Until now. Now, he and the team kept going in circles trying to find the new leader of Hydra. But nothing was working. And now he had you to deal with. You acting out the way you were was making him furious.

Just then, Steve was alerted to an email. It was from Tony. Steve asked him if he could look into your past and Tony had come through.

He sat up and turned the lamp on, scrolling through the email Tony had sent you. It was police files about your ex John Smith. He kept scrolling through, reading the words at a quick glance until he came upon a video. He clicked play.

“And how often did he hit and rape you,” the police officer who sat across from you asked.

Steve noticed how small you looked, curled in on yourself. He could see bruises on your face, your lip split open.

“As often as he wanted to,” you replied with a soft shrug. “Mainly when I acted out though. If I did or said something he didn’t like, that’s when I would get it the worst.”

The cop spoke up. “So he thought that beating and raping you would turn your attitude around?”

“It did. It always did,” you whispered.

Steve jumped out of bed and marched to your door. He wanted nothing more than to talk to you about all of this. Right now.

“Open Y/N’s door F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Steve commanded as he waited in the hallway.

“I’m sorry Captain Rogers but I must say it is no use,” came the A.I’s voice.

Steve put his hands on his hips, looking at your door. He didn’t want to, but he would use force to open it. He and Bucky agreed to give you all the privacy you needed, but he really needed to talk to you.

“What do you mean F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Miss Y/N left her room and the building a half hour ago.”

Steve’s head snapped towards the elevator. “With who?” he barked out as he rushed into his room and grabbed a black hoodie, pulling it over his head.

“Nobody. She left alone.”

Steve stilled his movements. Not only had you been acting out, like a brat, a damn child and throwing a glass object at his head. Now you had left the tower, alone, in the middle of the night. His hands were balled into fists, his jaw clenched tight like a clamp. In this exact moment, Steve had enough. He punched the door to his room. The punch went clear through the door making a gaping hole. Steve had snapped.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #dark! steve rogers #dark!steve rogers

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

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Sun

Harringrove April prompt 15, Sun. After the Mindflayer, Billy’s kinda weird, but Steve figures that makes sense.

Steve took the kids to pick each other up, sometimes, and sometimes, Max was at the hospital, to see Billy. In Steve’s head, Billy nearly dying to save Eleven kind of...balanced out beating Steve’s head in. Didn’t mean Steve liked the guy, but he thought...well, Steve Harrington had been no kinda prize until he started fighting for kids, and maybe Billy had changed, at least a little.

Also, it was hilarious, because post-Mindflayer Billy Hargrove didn’t give a shit. Steve had thought he hadn’t before, but then he saw a nurse outside, trying to get Billy to go back in—or at least put his clothes back on—and Billy just leaning against the side of the building by the dumpsters, naked in the sun. She saw Max, and sighed with relief, heading inside.

Before, Billy had cared too much, Steve realized—about what Steve was doing, about who ruled the school—but he only cared about the sun, anymore.

That, and probably annoying his sister, some, because when she leaned around the corner of the building and yelled, “Billy Hargrove, put your damn pants on,” he leaned his head back, eyes still closed, and replied, “Don’t look over here and you won’t see anything you don’t like, Maxine.”

“You better have left your bandages alone,” she shouted, and he laughed, then grimaced, wincing.

“You better stop bossing me around,” he yelled back.

“You’re gonna freeze your ass cheeks off,” she hollered, her hands firmly over her eyes as she meandered hesitantly towards his voice.

“Don’t fucking come over here,” Billy groaned, bracing himself against the wall to look over, but one of his knees bent, and his legs both collapsed. He landed with a soft “—oop.”

“...can I look?” Max asked, stopping.

“No, don’t,” he muttered, trying to push himself back up, and Steve took a step forward automatically, grimacing.

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Max told him, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m gonna get you a wheelchair.”

“The sun’s only over here for like fifteen more minutes,” Billy hissed at her, squirming until he could lean back against the building, at least. “Lemme alone.”

“I can hear you shivering,” she snarled back. “You’re probably getting dirt under all your bandages. I’m getting a wheelchair.”

“Get the wheelchair,” Steve told her, and Billy twitched, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Once he’s in the shade, we can throw a blanket on him, and push him in the sun again.”

“...fine,” Max growled, and stomped off.

“...y’know if you leave a bottle of water in the sun for six hours, it disinfects it,” Billy said softly. “The UV rays.”

“...okay,” Steve said, keeping an eye out for anyone he needed to prevent walking around the edge of the building. Billy mumbled something, and Steve wandered closer, trying not to notice how thin his shoulders looked, or the irritated red skin peeking out from under his bandages. “...what’s that?”

“It doesn’t like the sun,” Billy whispered. “Can’t take the UV.”

“...you know it’s gone, right,” Steve told him, and Billy snorted a laugh, his knuckles whitening as he gripped at the scrubby grass.

“Mmm,” Billy said, and Steve crouched to grab his hand.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll help you stand up.”

Billy laughed. “You’re gonna see shit and wish you hadn’t, Harringto—fuck,” he gasped, as Steve slid an arm around him, and slowly stood. “You’re warm, fuck,” Billy muttered, staggering, and shivering harder.

“We showered together,” Steve reminded him, trying to hold Billy so he faced the sun, but not touch him anywhere weird. “I’ve seen it all. I mean, you didn’t look as shitty, then.”

Billy laughed again, then took a few shuddery breaths, touching his bandages. “...fffuck,” he breathed. “I’m hot as...hell, Harrington,” he gasped, his whole face screwed up with pain. “Just...got no taste.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve played along. “The stubble really helps. And the goosebumps, can’t forget those.”

“Shit,” Billy breathed, pulling him a couple of inches further into the sun. “...yeah. I gotta...hide back here,” he said, coughing, and groaning. “My public keeps wanting autographs.”

“...what about a tanning bed,” Steve asked, watching the last sliver of sun slide behind the laurels that shielded the dumpsters. “Surround you with the same thing, right?”

Billy’s breath caught. “...they’re not gonna let me out,” he whispered, curling a little against Steve’s shoulder, worn out. “I can’t get to one.”

“I will talk to your doctor, okay,” Steve told him. “Would you lie down and sleep, after? If we get you in one? Surrounded by the what, the UV light?”

Billy gripped his arms, and nodded, swallowing. “Y-yeah. I—I just need to—”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, as Max pushed the wheelchair around the corner.

Billy draped himself over the chair like a throne, and Max groaned at the drama, but tucked a blanket around him with annoyingly thorough pokes. Billy grumbled, batting at her hand.

Once Steve wheeled him into the room, Billy lolled his head back and hollered, “Max! You were so right, I’m dying, I need water.”

“Like a plant,” Steve said. “He needs to be watered. I kinda have to take a piss—”

“Sounds like you two can work that out,” Max said, wrinkling her nose, but running off.

“You piss on me and I’ll tear your dick off—” Billy started, then trailed off, watching her go. “Check my back,” he whispered, yanking at the blanket, and Steve grabbed his hands.

“Get in the bed,” he whispered back. “I can’t see anything with you in the chair. I’ll check.” Billy’s shoulders were bony in his hands, and Steve bit his lips, helping him back onto the hospital bed.

“...don’t get fresh, now,” Billy grunted, shaking with exhaustion as he flopped too far down on the bed, his feet hanging over the edge, but too tired to move.

“I would never,” Steve told him, snorting a laugh. “Lemme scoot you up—”

“Just look,” Billy hissed, clenching his fists, and Steve kept his sigh silent, and yanked back the blanket.

There were still a bunch of bandages down Billy’s back, and Steve grimaced, trying not to stare at a dude’s naked ass. “”You’re fine,” he sighed, and Billy slammed his hand against the mattress so hard the bed rolled a little.

“You didn’t fucking look—”

“I did,” Steve hissed back, and Billy shook his head, wrapping his arms around his pillow and his face.

“Look harder,” he whispered hoarsely. “Everything hurts, there’s something there this time—”

Steve rubbed his face, and then, grimacing, reached out and touched Billy’s shoulder. Billy gave a full-body shudder, flinching away. “—the fuck,” he gasped, sounding strained, but Steve just set his jaw and ran his fingertips down the back of Billy’s arm.

“I’m looking. There’s nothing.”

Billy stayed still, for once, letting Steve run his fingers down the whole length of his body as Steve’s face flamed. When Steve finished running his fingers down Billy’s sides and along his legs and feet, he stuck his arms out behind him, and Steve carefully inspected his hands and forearms for black veins.

“Back here,” Billy said, grabbing his hair off his neck, and Steve leaned in to inspect the back of Billy’s neck, and behind his ears, listening to the panting, snuffly breaths he was taking into the pillow.

“You’re clear,” Steve said, and Billy finally relaxed, swallowing hard.

“...fuck,” he muttered, between slow, shaky breaths. “Shit. I thought—”

“Try to get some sleep,” Steve told him, sighing. “You’re fine.”

“I’m so fine,” Billy muttered into his arms, huffing a laugh.

Steve thought about telling someone that “looking” with fingertips worked, but he couldn’t see Max wanting to try it, or Billy letting her.

“...you want me to come look tomorrow?” Steve asked, resignedly, and Billy went really still. “...I can check for you if you’ll feel better.”

“...you just wanna get your hands on my ass,” Billy whispered finally, his voice cracking.

“That’s definitely it,” Steve snorted, pulling the blanket back over him, and tucking it in. “Stay under there, it didn’t like warm either, right.”

When Max came back in, she had a tray of food, and started bickering with Billy over the applesauce on it, so Steve left. As he opened the door, Billy called out “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Steve agreed.

He tried to find Billy’d doctor to ask him about a tanning bed, and then the nurse on duty, but she must have thought Billy wanted a tan, because she rolled her eyes. “That kid is gonna die of vanity,” she said, and Steve laughed uncomfortably.

When he’d been at the grocery store, they had cactuses. He drove over there and wandered around until he found a lady holding flowers, and grilled her on how to make somewhere warm and sunny enough for a cactus. After writing a lot on his hand about grow lamps and minimum temperatures, he turned away, and she said “...you aren’t gonna buy a cactus?”, so he did. He picked out an especially spiky one to call Billy, and a shorter wooly one that looked like it was crouching to lunge, and called that one Max with great satisfaction.

The hardware store didn’t have grow lamps, so he ordered two, and bought some bulbs. When he got home, he put Billy and Max into the window, and carefully watered them, then frowned at them through the evening, half expecting them to wither and die.

The next day, Billy was waiting for him after work, his hands shaking a little, but he looked less exhausted.

“You get some sleep, finally?” Steve asked, pulling Billy’s hair away from his ears to check, and then lifting it off his neck.

“Don’t get distracted,” Billy muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, I gotta appreciate the sights, right,” Steve sighed, and Billy laughed, relaxing already under Steve’s careful fingers.

“What about under the bandage,” Billy whispered, when Steve’s fingers grazed his ribs. “Where it went through me.”

“Doesn’t the nurse change that out every day,” Steve asked, having seen it, and Billy’s fingers clenched around the edges of the mattress.

“She’s not looking, she thinks I’m nuts,” he growled, and Steve grimaced, lifting the edges to look underneath.

“I think they’ll throw me out if I mess with your bandages. How about you have Max watch?”

“...she doesn’t wanna see that,” Billy muttered, and Steve rolled his eyes, thinking ‘because I do, right.’

“She wants to make sure you’re safe too,” he told Billy, who was silent.

“His room at home doesn’t get any sun at all,” Max said, when she showed up, and Steve frowned at the man huddled under the blankets. “He’s gonna get arrested for flashing the neighbors. And probably, like, skin cancer on his dick.”

Both options seemed likely.

“When are they releasing him?” Steve asked, cocking his head thoughtfully, and Max winced, blowing through her cheeks.

“We don’t know. He keeps talking about how he could stay longer if he fell down the stairs,” she said, smiling grimly.

“...what the fuck,” Steve said, staring at her, and his vague thoughts of Billy coming to visit began to take shape.

“What?! No!” Robin said, when he mentioned the idea of inviting the man who’d given him a concussion to live in his house.

“He’s changed,” Steve said lamely. “And he’s got no strength in his arms,” he pointed out, with more certainty. “He’s not gonna be hitting anybody.”

“We can always fling him off your balcony,” she said, considering.

He broached it to Billy the next day, as he ran his fingertips down the warm, goose pimply skin of Billy’s thighs. “You should come to my apartment,” he said, and Billy’s foot twitched.

“...the hell would I wanna go visiting anywhere,” he asked. “Don’t get distracted—”

“I’m not, look, I’m stopping here, I’ll restart in the right spot,” Steve said, resting his whole hand on Billy’s thigh just below his ass. He shivered. “I’m saying come stay with me, okay.”

After a long pause, Billy lifted his head from the pillow. “...what,” he croaked.

“Come stay with me.”

“...are you fucking serious,” Billy shot back, glaring over his shoulder. “Don’t fuck with me, Harrington—”

“I’m not,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes. “My apartment faces south, man, sunny all day.” Billy’s breath caught. “Think about it,” Steve told him, bending to carefully check Billy’s legs for the black veins of the Mindflayer.

That night, Steve’s phone rang. “Were you serious?” Billy said, with no preamble. “I can come stay with you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, winding the cord around his finger, his cheeks irrationally flushed. It was just Billy, he told himself, glancing around the apartment and wishing it was nicer. The carpet looked older than Steve was, he thought in dismay.

“For how long,” Billy said softly, like there had to be a catch, and Steve shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, Hargrove, jesus. I can’t let you go home.”

“...the hell did Max tell you,” Billy hissed, and Steve blinked.

“She said your room had no sun.”

Billy started laughing—Steve hoped the noise was laughing, anyway, at least mostly—and then hung up.

The day Billy was released, Steve took him straight to a tanning salon, and he emerged half-asleep from the tanning bed, so sleepy and quiet he didn’t even resist Steve carrying him back out to the car.

He did have a lot to say about getting piggy-backed up the stairs to Steve’s apartment, like “Giddyup”, “Yee-haw”, “You just want me wrapped aorund you,” and “What the shit, Harrington, three stories, I’m gonna be trapped up here like fucking Rapunzel.”

“Didn’t a king put her in a tower to weave gold,” Steve asked, panting, and Billy laughed against his shoulder.

“That was Rumpelstitzkin. Wrong story. Rapunzel, a witch did it. They traded her for salad.”

“They fucking what,” Steve said, staggering to a stop on the stairs, and Billy burst out laughing.

“Keep walking, your majesty. Don’t drop me.”

Steve reached and flicked the lights on, and then carried Billy inside. His mom had gotten rid of his kid’s bed, so he’d just hauled his queen size out to the front room, in front of the windows, and he lowered Billy next to it, turning to grab him as he stumbled, looking around.

“...there’re cactuses growing on your windowsill,” Billy pointed out, and Steve nodded.

“It’s so sunny in here cactuses grow,” Steve informed him proudly. “I thought that one looked like you—”

“Sturdy?” Billy suggested, smirking. “Prickly?”

“Pain in my ass,” Steve told him. “Here, sit down before you fall down. Okay, these lamps?” he pointed, walking over, “—sun lamps, okay. They’ll keep it sunny year-round—”

“...why do you care if it’s sunny year-round,” Billy asked flatly, and Steve blinked over at him. “I already don’t know how I’m gonna pay you back for this,” Billy gritted out. “The fuck do you mean year-round.”

Steve bit his lips together, thinking how weird and pathetic it was that he’d been so excited to have Billy come he’d lost sleep, bought grow lamps and cacti, and scrubbed his whole fridge out that morning at three, after it occurred to him, lying awake, that he hadn’t since he moved in. He walked into the kitchen, and started getting out the chicken soup fixings he’d been assured Billy could eat. “...I put a plastic lawn chair in the shower for when you can take showers,” he said, and heard his bed creak. He looked over to see Billy standing, gripping the headboard, but then he sat again, swearing.

“Harrington,” he hissed.

Steve told him about the hours he kept, and the plan with Max to bring Billy’s things, and Billy muttered darkly, and eventually complimented Steve’s soup like he was mad to admit it was good.

That night, he squirmed next to Steve, slowly, because he couldn’t move fast, his breathing catching, then evening out, then gasping again.

“...you need anything?” Steve asked finally, and Billy was silent for a long time, like he was holding his breath.

“Maybe I should shave my head,” he said, casually, out of the blue, and Steve couldn’t help it, he snorted a laugh, dissolving into snickers.

“What?!” he hissed, still giggling.

“Can’t check under my hair,” Billy said, nearly inaudibly, and Steve groaned, then scooted closer, and reached up to find Billy’s shoulder in the dark.

He slid his hand up and through Billy’s curls. “S’warm, right?”

“...yeah,” Billy breathed.

“Doesn’t like warm,” Steve whispered back, sliding his fingers through every inch of Billy’s hair, slowly, so heat could build. “If this feels bad, we’ll know, right?”

“......yeah,” Billy said, after an even longer pause.

“...so does it?” Steve asked, after a while, and Billy didn’t answer. Steve suspected he’d fallen asleep, but he made sure to finish.

While Steve got ready for work, Billy was arranging himself in the bed, centered in the windows with his naked ass hanging out. He sighed contentedly, and Steve groaned.

“Tell me you put sunscreen on,” he said, and Billy glared over.

“I can’t put a shirt on, Harrington. It’s fine—”

“You’re gonna be pissed if you get sunburned,” Steve told him, grabbing the sunscreen he’d bought for the time he took the Party camping, before they were too old for fun. Billy stared at him, but Steve had had girlfriends, and he was a good babysitter, so he was an expert at warming sunscreen just enough, and not letting his fingers linger anywhere they weren’t supposed to be.

Billy lay stiff as taxidermy as Steve rubbed sunscreen into his shoulders and arms, and then down his back—and then paused, because usually there was swimsuit there, and Billy cracked up the hardest Steve had ever heard him laugh. He ever kicked his foot a little, snickering at Steve’s bad life choices.

Steve slapped a lotion-gooey hand on Billy’s ass, defiantly, and Billy yelped, laughing harder, and curling a little on his side, so Steve had to shove him on his face again to get him around the side of his butt.

“What are you doing,” Billy groaned into his pillow, cackling as Steve got his thighs and down the backs of his knees.

“I just don’t wanna find you burned to ashes, like a vampire,” Steve said, blushing harder than ever, and then patted the calf of Billy’s leg. “Flip over.”

“...I’ll get the front,” Billy said, still sniggering. “I promise. I swear, Harrington—”

“...you better,” Steve said, a little relieved, and a lot disappointed. He shook his head hard, and left the sunscreen where Billy could get it.

When he glanced back, Billy’s whole body was much redder than Steve’s squeamish lotioning could explain.

That night when he got home from work, he brought a pizza. Billy eyed it doubtfully, but accepted the offered plate. He stayed on the bed, watching Steve watch TV, until Steve waved him over, making a face.

“D’you need help getting off the bed, or something?” he asked, and Billy shook his head, narrowing his eyes.

“Not gonna risk it,” he said. “You felt me up too good this morning. Might get ideas.”

Steve threw an olive at him, and Billy popped it in his mouth. Steve watched him lick the drooping tip of the pizza into his mouth, and the grease shining on his lips. Steve cleared his throat, and fixed his eyes on the TV screen.

“So if I’m the spiky one,” Billy said, pausing halfway through the pizza slice to lay back on the bed, “—who’s the other one? You got two cactuses in your life?”

“Max,” Steve told him absently. “I was asking the lady at the store how to keep it sunny enough for a cactus in here, and so she thought I’d buy some, y’know.”

“...I guess when you start bringing a girl around, you’ll get something pretty,” Billy said, not any particular way, and Steve realized he’d been listening closely for tone.

“Cactuses have flowers,” Steve told him, and Billy pushed himself up again, watching Steve’s face.

Steve didn’t know what to do with that, except stick his tongue out, or something, so he stuffed the whole rest of the pizza slice in his mouth, and chewed.

Billy could mostly take care of himself, except for being a little crazy. Steve asked Dustin what it was called if something couldn’t live without sunlight, and Dustin said photosynthesis, so that was what Steve told his neighbors Billy had. He jerked awake nearly every night no matter how long he baked himself the night before, breathing shakily. Sometimes, it worked for Steve to slide a hand over and touch his shoulder, and then smooth his hand over Billy’s skin, reminding him the Mindflayer didn’t like it warm.

“You could just look, and we could go back to sleep,” Billy mumbled, but he scooted closer as Steve smoothed a hand along his ribs, and down his hip.

“Too sleepy, no lights,” Steve groaned, flopping half on top of him, and Billy laughed until they were both awake.

Once, he tried to escape Steve, who scrambled the other way, thudded to the floor with a loud crash at 3am, and woke the neighbors, who yelled up through the floor asking if they were okay.

Billy and Steve snickered in horror over that one, and Steve tried to sleep on the couch, that night, despite Billy’s continual whispers of “You know you’d rather get some, Harrington. Get back over here. I’m lonely, Harrington. Put your hands on me, Harrington.” He started singing it, softly, then louder, like their neighbors weren’t tortured enough, and finally Steve groaned, laughing, and tromped back over to crawl into bed.

“You want my hands on you, huh,” Steve whispered, daring to scoot close and slide a hand around Billy’s waist, pulling their whole bodies against each other. “...warm enough?” he asked, and Billy nodded, frozen stiff like a board against his chest.

“...what were you dreaming?” Steve whispered, against Billy’s ear, because usually Billy curled into his warmth, edging towards him even asleep, until they were a mess of arms and legs and their skin stuck together a little with sweat.

Billy took a slow breath, then let it out. Steve waited, but he just kept...breathing, until Steve finally grunted unhappily against his neck, and snuggled closer. They didn’t get much sleep, that night, since Billy kept twitching awake, and finally Steve got up and turned on the sun lamps, and yanked off the blanket to run his hand up and down Billy’s lower back.

“...d’you wanna kiss me,” Billy finally said, flatly, like he was mad, and Steve froze.

He thought about the way Billy knew exactly how to make Max mad—but teased her about something else, instead, after listening to her scream as he went down at the mall. The shine of the pizza grease on Billy’s lips, and how pink they’d been, after he licked them. How he sat up a little every time Steve walked in the room, like Steve Harrington was someone to get excited about.

“...you don’t, do you,” Billy said, even more firmly, his hands clenched on Steve’s, around his waist. “Fuck. Forget it.”

“What the hell, no, I’m not forgetting it,” Steve hissed, and Billy laughed, less happily, this time.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “That’s what I was dreaming about.”

“What if—what if I do. Want to,” Steve mumbled, feeling like a moron, and Billy went all stiff and uncomfortable in his arms again.

“Make up your mind, Harrington,” he growled, and Steve sat up, so Billy fell on his back with a sputtered “Fuck!”

Steve licked his lips, staring down at Billy’s glowering face and set jaw, going golden in the first, early rays of the sun. He leaned in for a kiss.

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

#Harringrove #Harringrove April #Billy's having a weird time #Steve decides to give him another chance #He's glad he did

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sh1tbird-shantytown · 3 years

Note

i heard we were looking for some heart-wrenching hcs and so please consider after season three steve's working through the effects of brain damage. his head's been knocked around one too many times and initially he doesn't realize anything's wrong, but then the migraines hit and his hands shake and he gets so drained and he knows something's going on but he doesn't want to acknowledge that until the problem gets too big. and he's got people there who want to help, people who care so much about him and want to make this new aspect of his life a little less difficult to bear, but the thing about steve is that he's very much a helper, a protector, a caretaker. he's not supposed to be on the receiving end of those things. and eventually he learns to let people take care of him but please just imagine the anguish he goes through while he adjusts to the fact that he's not going to be able to function the way he used to, that struggle between needing others to help him and forcing himself to accept that help

yesyesyesyes <333

---

The one sport Steve had ever gotten the whole group to actually enjoy was baseball.

Thing is, with Billy on home base with his usual snark and glow, it was distracting. Afternoons playing baseball with all the outsider kids in town was something Steve often looked forward to. Even with Billy and the chaos he brought to Steve's life.

Dustin hit his pitch square on as Billy leaned back to watch for a call out. But the ball was steady straight and just a little too high. Hit Steve right on the side of his turned head.

And here's the background that Steve remembered only as his head went numb. The doctor had said, no warned. One hit to the head and bad things would happen. He'd already developed chronic headaches. One more extra nudge and he'd go down.

And he went down. Hard. Couldn't even raise his arms enough to catch himself and just landed directly on his side. There was yelling, he could tell, but it just turned into mushy ringing by the time it reached his brain.

He had already been pushing himself up when other arms started pulling too, assisting in a slightly more unhelpful and messy matter.

"Back!" someone hissed harshly, not loud, but a demand no question. A jacket was tossed over his head and the sunlight was blessedly shoved out of his face. He went to take more steps himself but someone wrapped their arms around him to lead the blinded way.

He had half a mind to shove them off but the touch felt familiar. Billy. Someone even had his hand, pulling him over somewhere. There was more ringing before it almost stopped. They'd been arguing.

"He has a migraine, dumbass," Billy scolded. "Shut up." It was weird hearing Billy speak so softly.

"But why does he have one?" he for sure say the same could be said for Mike.

"He's been hit on the noggin' too many times, now zip it or I'll shut you up myself."

"Don' be mean," he tried to yank off the jacket. The denim was rough and uncomfortable. He felt smothered. Felt his breath speed up when the hug around his middle only got firmer and someone kept the jacket in place.

"Come on, Harrington," Billy whispered to him smoothly, "We're taking you home and setting you down to rest. Just a little longer now."

"No," he shook his head under the fabric, "No!" he hissed when it felt like his own bat had hit him.

"What?" he could hear Mike's sneer. It hurt.

"I can-" his leg gave out and he stumbled even with Billy's tight hold. The shocked and whiney noise he made was embarrassing.

"Yeah, no," Billy dismissed. Steve couldn't even move his head back up, it hung limp with his chin against his chest until he was sat in Billy's Camaro passenger seat.

Shades were careful placed on his nose by Dustin as Billy started the car. "You'll make sure he doesn't, like, pass out, right? Because Robin will kill us both if she has to work the morning shift alone tomorrow."

Steve's eyes were open automatically, searched around the car and eyed all the kids. Counted them. They were all there. He reached for the door handle before Max had even finished closing it, missed completely.

"Jesus," Will gasped and grabbed his hand, "You're all shaky, Steve," he placed the hand back in Steve's own lap.

"Wait," he rasped, "I can't just leave you guys here alone." Every word he forced out hurt immensely. Max looked the most sympathetic he'd ever witnessed before. She stuck her hand through the open window and pressed the back of her hand on his forehead. He stopped himself from leaning into it. Her hands were cold enough to feel relieving. He was acting like a child.

He tasted tears.

The kids looked halfway between uncertain and sad.

Dustin smiled, "It's okay, Buddy," they were speaking so softly, "My house isn't far. We'll take care of it."

"But-"

Billy took his hand. There was so much touching. No one did this. He stared at it and Billy immediately let go, obviously thinking Steve was uncomfortable. But he wasn't.

"Trust 'em, Steve, it'll be alright." Billy smiled so kindly. Steve couldn't even feel anymore in general. And all of them were going out of their way-

"Hey," El patted the car door to gather his attention again, she looked stern. "You listen to, Billy. And we will see you tomorrow."

The boys were on their way and Max took El's hand to join them, "We'll let Hopper know and he'll stop by later to check up." El nodded like the option pleased her.

Billy rested his hand on the gear stick as Steve stared at it again dazedly.

He saw out of the corner of his eye that Billy kept glancing his way, "We're almost there, lay back." Again with the fluttery whispering. He slowly reclaimed Steve's hand and smiled even when Steve kept staring at their linked fingers. He understood.

Steve didn't though and it was apparently obvious.

"Close your eyes, Harrington, I'll wake you when we get there."

His heart felt like a rock and he wanted to cry and sob and scream at the unfairness of it all. He wasn't made for this. He could take just about anything thrown at him. Punches, words, lies. But not...this. He didn't want Billy here helping him out like he was a toddler.

He turned away and pulled his hand back, forced himself to stare at the reflecting mirror.

He looked like shit.

Felt like it too.

Billy didn't touch him again that night, but left him in bed with an ice pack on his forehead, a puke bucket, and three glasses of water before the door shut heavily. In his escape.

It hurt too much to cry.

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #dustin henderson #max mayfield #el hopper #thanks anon :)#answered asks #billy/steve

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

hey i’m sorry to bother you but could you write some fluffy non-binary Steve? I’m bigender and i’m not really out to anyone and one of my friends made a joke about bigender people and it really just crushed me a little bit, so if it’s not too much to ask could you please write something small and fluffy for me? Sorry to bother you!

You’re not bothering me! I love writing requests and stuff for y’all. And you are super fucking valid, just btw.

Steve poked Billy’s stomach.

Billy tried not to move his face, tried not to smile.

Steve poked him again.

“Bill, I know you’re awake.”

He didn’t move.

Steve huffed.

Billy felt their warmth disappear from his side.

And then all the wind was knocked out of him as Steve flopped right on top of him, just let their full body weight slam onto him.

Billy opened his eyes, glared at them. They smiled so sweet at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Baby. Thanks for such a sweet wake up.”

“You’re welcome.” Billy wrapped his arms around them, closing his eyes again. Steve slapped his chest. “No! Don’t fall asleep! You promised you’d take me to the beach today.”

They had arrived late last night to San Diego, just checked into their hotel and curled up together.

“The beach’ll be there for another hour or two.” Steve began flopping on top of him violently.

“Wanna go to the beach.”

“Oh my God. Fine! We’ll go!” Steve was off him in a flash, rushing off to the bathroom.

Billy took a deep breath, rolling his eyes as Steve started their happyhappyhappy playlist, super fucking loud.

Billy rolled dramatically out of bed, plastered himself to Steve’s back as they brushed their teeth. He took the toothbrush out of their hand to brush his own teeth with it.

“That’s foul, Bill.”

“Forgot mine.” Steve rolled their eyes.

They scampered about, packing a bag for the beach. They tossed Billy’s SPF 15 sunscreen in with their own SPF 50.

They got dressed fast, started trailing close behind Billy, just chanting beach beach beach beach.

Billy led them out of the hotel, Steve tucked under his arm.

Their hotel was a short walk from the beach, and they stopped on the way to get iced lattes. Steve took a lot of pictures of the two of them.

“Okay, Sweet Thing. Hop on my back, and close your eyes.” Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “C’mon. Trust me.” They sighed dramatically, but got on his back all the same.

Billy piggybacked them all the way to the edge of the water.

“Open your eyes.”

Billy heard them gasp.

“Oh wow.”

Steve had never seen the ocean before.

Billy had tossed their bag on the sand a ways back, so he kept walking into the water, stopping when the waves were batting at his chest.

“You ready?”

“For wha-” Steve shrieked as Billy dunked them both in the water, holding Steve’s legs tight to his waist. He came back up, Steve spluttering and coughing. He shifted them around until he was holding under their ass, face to face.

“Coulda warned me.”

“Nah. Wanted your first time in the ocean to be a surprise. Now you’ll never forget it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I almost fucking died.” Billy kissed their cheek, loved tasting the ocean on their skin.

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #nonbinary steve #nonbinary!steve harrington #nonbinary!steve #nonbinary steve harrington #nb!steve #nb!steve harrington #nb steve harrington #nb steve

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nethandrake · 4 years

Text

The Friendversary

stevetony. mcu. rated t. werewolf!steve & vampire!tony au. 2.3k words.

also on ao3.

*****

Tony barely registers the voice calling his name. He should roll over, get out of bed, and check. It could be an emergency. Hell, maybe the apartment’s on fire or they’re in the midst of being robbed.

But then, he could just keep his eyes closed and stay in bed. He can’t remember the last time he got a decent day of sleep. To take that away from him is daylight robbery.

Besides, Steve can handle things. Steve with the broad shoulders with arms that could probably bench press Tony if he asked. Steve who could tear limbs apart as easy as breathing because he’s a freaking—

“—ony. Rise and shine!”

But of course like everything in life, Tony could never get things his way.

He lets out a grunt, moving to cover his ears with his pillow. “Ugh, go away.”

Unsurprisingly, the pillow is yanked out from under him. His head hits the mattress with a soft thump, a quiet groan tumbling out of his lips.

“Tony,” the voice says, much more insistent and familiar.

Goddamn dog.

“Fuck off. It’s morning.”

“The sun just set, actually.”

As if by magic, some of the grogginess Tony feels dissipates. He cracks an eyelid open, meeting a pair of perfectly blue eyes and a perfectly cheery smile and a big dopey mug. It's a sight Tony never, ever wants to be greeted with this early in the night.

“I hate you.”

Steve smirks, leaning against his doorway with his arms across his chest. “You say this now but wait ‘till I drink all your blood.”

“You don’t drink blood.”

“I might. Just to give it a go.”

Tony scoffs, motioning to sit on the edge of his bed. “That’s what you said six decades ago,” he says, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes. “And what happened after?”

Steve scowls. “You’ll never let that go, huh?”

“I would if you’d stop threatening me about it.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Well, you can nag me about it later,” Steve says, detaching himself from the doorframe. “Meet me up on the rooftop.”

Tony frowns. “Rooftop? Why are we—”

That’s when he notices Steve’s getup – a dress shirt that brings out the silver in his eyes, slacks, and a pair of ankle socks. His typical tousled hair is slicked back. Tony’s pretty sure it’s gelled.

Steve doesn’t dress up often and since they’re meeting up on the rooftop, that could only mean one thing.

His lips twist into a smirk, taking a couple of steps backwards. He probably noticed Tony forgot, the bastard.

“C’mon, Tony,” he says in a sing-song voice. “We’re burning moonlight.”

Tony rolls his eyes, flinging the covers off his body. “I’ll be there. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me being— What?”

Steve startles, tearing his gaze away from Tony’s…body?

“Nothing!” he exclaims, his voice a couple of decimals higher than usual. “I just— Yeah.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort as Steve zips away. Sometimes, Steve would be reduced to a stuttering mess out of the blue for no explainable reason. There might be an explanation though if Steve doesn’t wear scent blockers.

Then again, so does Tony. He shouldn’t be annoyed with Steve doing the same. It’s only natural to wear them since they're living in a city mostly populated by humans.

Tony takes his time in the shower, getting dressed, and styling his hair. If anyone could see him right now, they'd probably think about how ridiculous he's being, how effort he's wasting. It’s dinner with Steve, after all. Tony could be wearing a rucksack and Steve wouldn’t even bat an eye.

To be fair, today's their anniversary. The occasion is basically screaming for cologne and hairspray.

“Time flies huh,” Tony mutters to himself as he fastens his cape around his neck. “Five hundred goddamn years.”

It’s a miracle that they’ve lasted this long as friends, let alone best friends, and roommates. He can’t imagine if they actually did something dumb like date each other. They probably would’ve only lasted a month or two. Maybe a year, at most.

Or maybe if you actually tried shooting your shot—

Tony shakes his head as he unlocks his balcony door and steps outside. There’s no point dwelling on that right now or ever, even. Steve’s a werewolf. And werewolves wouldn’t be wasting time on giving people like Tony a second glance. They’d be focused on finding mates.

Mates who’d be furry and smelly and enjoy roaming around in the woods for the rest of eternity. Not bloodsucking nocturnals who fly around and live in graveyards.

Not that Tony is living in a graveyard right now, but the notion still stands. They’ve been going strong for five hundred years. Why try ruining things?

Steve’s already on the rooftop, sitting on a picnic blanket with a basket by his side. He flashes Tony a broad grin, all canine and bright. In all his six hundred and eleven years of living, Tony’s never seen such a beautiful person be this dorky.

“You do know there’s a perfectly functioning elevator, right?” Steve drawls out as Tony lands on the edge of the rooftop.

Tony shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I need to stretch my legs. Plus, it’s more fun to scare the humans.”

“Yeah. If you’re into endangering the whole mythical community.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He sweeps his cape behind him, spreading his hands. “Well, how do I look?”

Steve pauses, his eyes roaming around, drinking Tony in. “You look… You look…”

“I better looking dashing,” Tony interrupts. “You know me and mirrors. I wouldn’t have asked you if—”

“You definitely do,” Steve interrupts, a little too earnest than Tony deems necessary. “You look beautiful.”

There’s an odd intensity behind Steve’s blue, blue eyes. Tony makes a mental note to reexamine that later.

“So,” he begins, breaking the silence as he settles down next to Steve, “what’d you got for us tonight?”

They usually take turns getting dinner together. While Tony leans towards more expansive and refined options, Steve’s tastes are much simpler. This year, he's opted for burgers and fries for himself and a homemade blend of cow’s blood, pomegranate, and strawberries for Tony. Just the sight of the crimson liquid being poured into his wine glass has Tony salivating.

“Well,” Steve begins, raising his bottle of lemonade in the air, “here’s to five hundred years of friendship.”

“And five hundred more,” Tony adds, clinking their drinks together. “Until you meet your mate, that is.”

Whenever Tony brings up the M-word, Steve freezes up. This time is no different.

“Tony—”

“I know you hate all the mate talk but as I said before—”

“Tony—”

“—I don’t think you’d want to spend the rest of your life—”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Steve interrupts, his time firmer. “Please?”

Tony sighs, taking a large gulp from his glass. He almost moans at the clash of flavors swirling around on his tongue. The irony of a werewolf brewing one of the best vampire drinks Tony’s ever tasted. “Alright, alright.”

Dinner goes without a hitch, after that. They fall back into their usual topics of conversation of work and friends, making sure to steer clear of any talk of romance and mates.

“You know,” Tony begins after the food has been cleared and they’ve finished a lapse of comfortable silence. “I always thought about how funny this is.”

“What?”

“This…” He gestures between the two of them. “This…thing. You know.”

Steve’s lips quirk to the side. “What? That we get along?”

“Not that. Although that has cropped up pretty often. I mean, us. Having an anniversary for our friendship. Like, who does that?”

“Carol and Maria do,” Steve points out.

“Yeah. And they started dating a couple of years after. Try again.”

“Does it matter?”

Tony sighs, waving his hand around. “I don’t know. I just— Isn’t this something you do with your mate?”

The smile on Steve’s face slides off. “Tony—”

“Or at least someone you’re attracted to. ‘Cause let me tell you, nothing kills the mood better than—”

“Tony!”

Immediately, Tony’s jaw clamps shut.

Steve’s shoulders sag but his blue eyes are still stormy with anger. “Jesus, Tony. I told you to drop it.”

“I know—”

“I don’t get why you’re so adamant about me finding a mate.”

Tony picks at the hem of his cape. “It’s been five hundred years, Steve. I just— Aren’t you lonely?”

“Why would I be lonely?” Steve asks, sounding puzzled. “I have you.”

If Tony still has a pulse, he’d be pretty sure it’ll be racing right now. “That’s different,” he says slowly. “We’re friends. Just friends. Friends with a capital ‘F’.”

A heavy silence shrouds them. For a moment, Tony feels stupid. Exposed. He shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, he really should’ve kept his mouth shut and—

“What if I don’t want to be friends.”

Wait, what?

“What if I want to be more than friends,” Steve continues, wringing his hands, his cheeks reddening with each passing second. “What if—”

“You want us to be mates?!”

If he isn’t a vampire, he probably would’ve chalked it up to him hearing things. Then again, being a vampire hasn’t stopped him from hallucinating and hearing things.

Steve winces, his whole face now turning crimson red. Hell, even the tip of his ears is a bright shade of blush. It’s goddamn adorable.

“Only if you want to,” he says. “I know we’ve never talked about it and I know you don’t feel the same way—”

Tony reaches out, curling his fingers around Steve’s wrist, putting a stop to his escape. Fortunately for him and his hand, Steve doesn’t fight him off.

“Woah, woah. What the hell do you mean I know?”

Steve frowns. “Don’t you?”

“No! ‘Course not.”

As quickly as it came, the color in Steve’s cheeks drains.

“Oh,” he breathes out, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought you knew. ‘Cause you know, super senses.”

Tony frowns, puzzled. “You wear scent blockers.”

“I don’t mask my heartbeat,” Steve counters. “C’mon. You’d had to know how it races when I’m around you—”

“That’s corny as fuck.”

“Just saying the truth, is all.”

“I—” Tony racks his brain, trying to recall something. Anything.

He comes up empty.

“I mean, I don’t have the best memory around—” Steve cocks an eyebrow. “What? You know I’m right!”

His lips tug to the side, staring at him with stark disbelief.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Cut me some slack, Steven. I’ve been dead for centuries. Excuse me for not remembering. I figured that was your regular heartbeat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, what about you, huh?” Tony shoots back. “You had to know I’ve been drooling over you for four hundred and ninety-nine years!”

Steve’s eyes widen, his lips parting. It’s times like these that the vampire that turned Tony all those centuries ago actually sucked him dry.

“Fuck,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Someone kill me—”

“You’re already dead.”

“I know,” Tony moans. “Fuck. I can’t believe you’re attracted to a corpse. A fucking corpse!”

Steve snorts, mischief lacing his tone. “I don’t know. You look pretty lively to me.”

“Shut up. This isn’t funny, Rogers,” Tony mutters before lifting his head up. “Do you really want to shackle yourself to me for another five hundred years?”

Steve deepens his grin, a grin that Tony could only describe as wolfish. “I mean, we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?”

“I guess. But we’d be together. In a relationship. Until you get sick and tired of me—”

“I won’t,” Steve insists like the dumbass he is. “Like I said before, we’ve gotten this far.”

“Yeah?”

He gets a kiss in answer.

Steve’s lips are soft and warm against him. Tony can’t remember the last time he’s felt this good, this thrilled, this warm.

He doesn’t know how long this goes on, losing track of time and himself into this moment, into finally. It’s only that when they do pause for Steve to catch his breath, Tony realizes he’s in Steve’s lap, his thighs clamping Steve in place and his cape pooling at his feet.

“You taste of wet dog,” he murmurs.

“And you taste of blood,” Steve breathes, tightening his grip on Tony’s waist and god, Tony wants. He wants and needs everything.

“That gonna be a problem?”

“Nope. Not in the slightest.” He sighs against his lips and fuck, he is warm and he smells faintly of pine and vanilla – a combination Tony never thought could make him weak in the knees. He can’t imagine how overwhelming it’ll be when the scent blocker fades away.

“I can’t believe we wasted five hundred years,” Steve continues. “We could’ve had— We could’ve been—”

“Could’ve been mates?”

He blinks, his smile flickering. “I mean, only if you want to. You don’t—”

“Have I forgot to mention that I’ve been in love with you for four hundred and ninety-nine years?” Steve opens his mouth but Tony cuts him off. “And before you ask, no, I don’t care what people think about us. People have been assuming for years, anyway.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Steve says. “I was actually going to say I’ve been in love with you for four hundred and ninety-nine years and five months. So.”

Tony cocks an eyebrow. “And you say I’m stupid for a genius all the time.”

“I mean, I am a dumb dog.”

“A dumb dog who chose a bloodsucker as his mate.”

Steve scowls. “Hey. That’s my bloodsucker you’re talking about.”

Tony hums as he snakes his hands around Steve’s neck. “This bloodsucker is also in the mood to suck something else.”

“That was terrible.”

“Please. You love it.”

Steve grins as he tilts his head forward. “Guess I do.”

#stevetony #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #halloween #vampires #werewolves #*fic #wrote this for halloween so here ya go ;)

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

Text

Hayloft - Part 2

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: A young girl finds a soldier hiding in the hayloft on her father’s farm. Intrigued, she visits him more and more until her father finds out and puts him to work. As they grow closer, something else grows too.

Pairing: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes x OC Jenny Richelle “Ricky�� Hill

Warning: Strong language, inaccurate war description

Author’s note: Based on the song Hayloft by Mother Mother and the lovestory of my grandparents. I am Dutch and the war was a bit different here, so I will be basing this on the stories I’ve heard about my grandparents.

Word count: 2433

‘What are you reading Jenny?‘ ‘What’s it to you James?‘ ‘Just curious, that’s all.‘ He watches as a smile starts tugging on the corners of her lips. She tries to surppres it, but the sparkle in her eyes is clear as day. ‘Of sons and lovers,‘ she hums, showing him the front, ‘do you know it?‘ ‘Heard of it, haven’t had the chance to read it,‘ he answers, ‘will you read it to me?‘

From that moment on, she’d read to him every Friday and Sunday. Sometimes on Wednesdays if he’d look at her nicely. Though Jenny’s father would rather have her spend time with other lads who are a little more wealthy, he didn’t mind for the time being. After all, the two seemed to be great friends. Meanwhile, Jenny was falling hard and fast. She hadn’t known this feeling before. The butterflies in her stomach when he’d wink at her, the racing of her heart when he’d touch her skin, the way she got light headed when he’d tease her. She could deal with Michelle, the pictures, and the fear of being caught if she knew she could come home to James. The pictures on the cork board at her work kept changing. Eventually, Timothy’s picture disappeared as he lived a town over and couldn’t possibly still be here. James and Johnny’s pictures were moved up to make them more prominent, but with their messy stubble, weathered faces, and much longer locks they were barely recognizable from them. Jenny continuously send secret letters to James and Johnny’s relatives and friends under her own name. When anyone asked about it, she just said she was catching up with pen pals. Then one day a strange letter arrived. Jenny hadn’t seen the handwriting before. As usual, she gathered the men in the living room to read them their letters and burn them right after. They weren’t allowed to keep them in fear they would be found if they were searched. And so she got to the strange letter. It read.

“Dear Jenny,

Thank you for your wonderful letter. I am grateful to hear you are safe and sound. It has been a while. Please say hi to him for me and tell me that I miss him. Tell him I’m not angry anymore and I understand why he left us when he did. There’s no shame in it, I just wish I could visit to see his face again. Tell him I got into the army. It’s not the position I wanted, but I get to represent my country. Please don’t laugh at me when you see my face.

I hope to hear from you soon,

Yours sincerely,

Steve Rogers“

‘Who is Steve Rogers,‘ Jenny asks James, but when she looks up from the letter she can see the tears in his eyes. ‘Are you okay James?‘ ‘He’s my best friend,‘ James sniffles with a smile, ‘I used to be better at everything, but now he’s finally outdone me.‘ He looks proud and nostalgic as he swallows his tears away. ‘You know, I haven’t heard people call me James in such a long time because he always used to call me Bucky.‘ ‘That’s a nice nickname,‘ Jenny smiles and takes a seat next to him on the couch while the others leave, having thrown their letters in the fire. She hands James his. He laughs when he reads it again. ‘He probably spend hours on this,‘ he chuckles, ‘he never knew how to use his words. I always had to help him find friends or a date. Last time I saw him we went to a fair and I was supposed to leave for the war the next day. He wanted to fight so bad, but he’s build like a toothpick and there’s no way they’re letting someone like that in.‘ Jenny hands him a piece of paper. ‘I wrote down the return address for you, might you ever want to write him again,‘ she tells him. James looks at her in disbelieve. ‘You are a goddamn angel,‘ he smiles and throws his arms around her, engulfing her in a tight hug, ‘you are the best thing that could’ve happened to me.‘ She laughs and pushes him off a little. ‘You’re crushing me,‘ she chuckles when he lets go of her. Alpine wanders into the living room and jumps onto James’ lap. Jenny scratches her behind her ear with a smile while James admired her. ‘I like Bucky. It’s a nice nickname. Fits you way better than James.‘ ‘How come?‘ ‘James is way too smooth,‘ she eyebrows knit together a little while she tries to explain it, ‘it’s what most of those soldiers walking around town look like. Bucky is a bit more rugged and strong. It’s a handsome name.‘ He watches her face change to a bit of mischief. ‘You’re going to be the death of me,‘ he chuckles. ‘I thought I was an angel,‘ she bats her eyes innocently, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. ‘Don’t forget to burn that letter. I’m going to help mother out with dinner.‘ And she’s gone while James feels his cheeks heat up. Alpine looks up at him with a judgmental look. ‘Don’t say it, I know,‘ he sighs, talking to the cat, ‘this isn’t going to end well.‘

‘Good morning gents,‘ Jenny chirps, opening the door to the shed to bring their breakfast, ‘I got some jam for you today.‘ Johnny almost jumps out of his bed. ‘Good morning Jenny, how does it feel to be old,‘ he teases her, poking at her side. ‘Ah, stop it,‘ she laughs at the tickling, ‘I’m not old. Call James old!‘ ‘I’m 23, not a fossil,‘ he chuckles in a rough morning voice. ‘Is it your birthday,‘ Timothy asks, peeking from under his covers. ‘Yeah, I’m 22 today,‘ she smiles, pushing Johnny’s face away, ‘so my father bought jam from the neighbors and my mom is making a cake.‘ ‘Cake,‘ James asks in disbelieve. It had been ages since he had eaten cake. Most people don’t have money to acquire the ingredients. ‘Don’t expect too much from it,‘ she smiles, ‘it’s just custard and rusk.‘ ‘Honestly, that’s better than I expected,‘ he smiles, ‘I’ve heard people make fig cakes these days.‘ ‘Oh, I’ve heard of those,‘ Johnny laughs, ‘heard they’re hard enough to bash someone’s head in.‘ James watches Jenny’s smile a she talks to Johnny before her shift. She looks so good in her navy, knee-length skirt; navy, fitted waistcoat; and ivory blouse. As for today she’s holding a jacket in the same navy color over her arm. The nights had become colder and longer. Winter is coming and they all know it. The shed will be a lot colder in the following months. ‘I’ll be back earlier today, I only have a half shift,‘ Jenny tells them with a smile, ‘enjoy the jam.‘ ‘Thank you.‘

Though the days might be colder as winter approaches, the work has gotten harder. It’s harvest time and the boys are busy beyond compare. They work until they’re covered in sweat and only stop when misses Hill comes outside to give them water. The two younger boys in the family help them with some smaller tasks while Penny, the other daughter, sits by the tree behind the farmhouse and knits. Around twelve, misses Hill comes outside with lunch and sets it down by Penny. They boys sit in a circle with her while she continues to knit. James watches what she’s doing and notices the small mountain of knitted materials next to her. ‘Say Penny, what are you making?‘ She looks up from her work. ‘Oh, mother told me to knit some sweaters because the weather is getting colder,‘ she tells him, ‘mother normally does it, but she’s busy sewing jackets.‘ ‘Sewing jackets?‘ ‘Yeah, you don’t think we’re going to let you guys freeze to death do you,‘ she grins and hands him one of the sweaters to show him, ‘you should be happy Jenny has a job. She’s terrible at knitting and sewing.‘ James takes a look at the sweater. They’re just simple, white sweaters. Probably made from the wool of the sheep that stand in the stables. ‘We’re going to dye them once they’re done so you all have your own,‘ she hums, continuing with her work. ‘How wil you dye them? Isn’t that terribly expensive these days,‘ Timothy asks her a bit concerned. ‘It’s fine. We’re going to use wild berries and some other things like coffee grounds,‘ she explains to him, ‘we’re not exactly short on money, but it’s good to be creative in these times.‘ ‘How’d you guys end up hiding stowaways,‘ James ask, taking a big bite out of his sandwich. ‘Well, Johnny was here with Jenny when we heard soldiers were going to check every house for young gents who didn’t join the army,‘ she says, giving Johnny a small smile, ‘so we made him hide in the crawl space under the house until things calmed down, but it turns out they weren’t going to check us because we need the help on the farm so the men that were here would be safe. Besides, they already took our brother away.‘ She doesn’t look far as sad as Jenny does when talking about him. ‘So who wants what color? I’ll be able to make brown, blue, and red.‘ ‘I’d like brown,‘ Timothy mumbles. ‘I’ll take blue,‘ Johnny grins. ‘I guess that leaves red for me,‘ James smiles at her, eating the last few bites of his sandwich before getting up again. ‘Let’s get back to work.‘ Johnny sighs loudly. ‘No fun that one,‘ he jokes to Penny. They hear something on the gravel and Wesley and Nathan jump up. The group sees Jenny stepping off her bike and putting it against the fence like she does every day. James looks at her like the world just got a little brighter. The sunshine in his life returned and seems to just look at him. ‘Ah, did I miss lunch,‘ she laughs as her brothers pull her towards the group, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.‘ She presses a kiss to everyone’s cheek, but stops for a second after kissing James’ cheek and smiles. She starts rubbing his cheek with her thumb and he can only think of what her lipstick stain on his cheek might look like. ‘It’s fine,‘ he grumbles, ‘how was your day?‘ Without realizing it, he puts an arm around her waist while she keeps scrubbing at his cheek. ‘Gosh, terrible,‘ she grins, ‘they took half the pictures off the cork-board. It’s horrific to see them take them off and see the poor lads being dragged down the street. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.‘ She looks satisfied at his cheek and takes a step back, realizing they all have stains on their cheeks. ‘You guys should wash up.‘ ‘Why don’t we get the same treatment as James,‘ Johnny whines. She steps over to him, grabs his jaw, and violently scrubs his face. ‘Wait, no, I surrender. Stop!‘ The group laughs for a second. ‘Oi, back to work lads,‘ mister Hill calls as he steps out of the house.

After dinner it’s time for the improvised cake. Jenny turns an, to James adorable, shade of red when they start singing Happy Birthday to her. She looks with bright eyes at the candles on top of the cake and closes her eyes with her hands folded together before blowing them out. James can’t take his eyes off of her. Misses Hill divides the cake evenly between the nine of them and everyone is quiet at the sweet taste. ‘It’s great mom,‘ Jenny smiles at her mother, ‘perfect birthday.‘ Misses Hill walks over to her daughter and hands her a small, wrapped package. ‘Your grandmother send this over.‘ Jenny’s eyes shine as she opens the package. Everyone looks curiously at the small box as she opens it. Inside is a dainty, golden necklace with a golden coin on it. Jenny flips it over to see the back of it and smiles. ‘She got it engraved,‘ she smiles, tears of joy poking her eyes as she shows her mother. ‘That’s wonderful sweetheart,‘ her mother answers, ‘shall I put it on for you?‘ Jenny nods and hands the necklace to her mother who helps her put it on while she holds up her hair. The whole scene looks enchanting to James. In fact, it looks enchanting to all of them. She lets her hair fall down and shows her sister the coin. ‘Look, its an angel riding a Pegasus,‘ she smiles. Penny gives it a small glance and shrugs. It’s not special to her, but it means the world to Jenny.

The dinner comes to an end and James and Jenny end up reading on the couch as they often do these days. Alpine is curled up between them and comfortably purrs as both James and Jenny pet her gently. But is James actually reading? He seems to be awing at Jenny’s foccussed face. Heart shaped eyes almost pop out of his skull. ‘Stop looking at me,‘ Jenny whispers at him. He closes his book and pretends to be offended. ‘I was not looking at you.‘ ‘Oh please, you’re a terrible liar,‘ Jenny says as she puts her book down as well. ‘Do you want to go look at the stars from the hayloft?‘ She sighs and puts her book on the coffee table. ‘Fine, but bring a blanket this time. I found hay everywhere last time,‘ she sighs. Alpine follows as the two make their way to the hayloft and open the small window to look outside at she night sky while laying on the hay. James puts the blanket over the hay and arranges it so they can sit comfortably. He sits down first and takes her hand to pull her onto his chest. She turns a bright shade of red when she lands and looks up at his face. ‘You’re adorable,‘ he smiles, feeling tingles going through his whole body. ‘S-stop that,‘ she mumbles, trying to push herself away but his arm has her captured. ‘Hey, where’d my confident Jenny go,‘ he teases. ‘Oh go fuck yourself,‘ she grins. ‘Gladly, through I’d rather fuck you.‘ She stares with wide eyes into his as a smug smirk plays on his lips. ‘Fuck it,‘ she mumbles and straddles him, dipping down to connect his lips with hers. ‘My dad is going to shoot you.‘ ‘Angel, that only makes it more exciting.‘

#bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x oc #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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lokischocolatefountain · 4 years

Text

Reduced Sentence

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Rating: Teen and Up

Word count: 3.5K

Part I, Part II

This is the unexpected Part II of Kitten from Hell. Can be read as a standalone fic, but it’s more fun to read Part I before this...

Summary: The Kitten from Hell returns to torment him, and Loki's partner doesn't believe that he has the ability to communicate with animals.

Warnings: Swearing, a little smut (but no sex)

A/N: I was texting @deckerstar-trash about how wonderful it would be to talk to our pets and this happened...

She was drifting in and out of sleep, conscious one minute to her dreamlands the next. Next to her was the pup that took Loki’s place in his absence. She was afraid of sleeping in the living room all alone. They had tried to train her, but she regressed when Loki was called on an urgent mission to an unknown, secretive part of Asgard. The moonlight illuminated the pup, highlighting every detail of her soft fur. She absentmindedly caressed her fur and proceeded to slip back out of consciousness with a loving hand on the creature.

They were the perfect picture of tranquility until a loud thud jerked her awake. It was followed by a whispered string of swear words. Still laying on her stomach, she moved herself to the edge of the bed, feeling for the baseball bat she always kept there. In her sleepy daze, however, she forgot to ensure Wiggle’s safety. He had somehow gotten out of the bed with his tiny, helpless, puppy legs and ran straight to the living room where the intruder was. She no longer had the option to wait for the right time to take the intruder by surprise.

“Wiggle, hey! Did I wake you up, buddy?”

The joyous barks, if not for the familiar voice, informed her that she had nothing to worry about. She huffed in annoyance at being woken up, abandoned the baseball bat and returned her limbs back under the warmth of her duvet. If he had woken up her last night in a similar fashion, she would have definitely used the weapon on him. Luckily for him, she had finally gotten some rest that day and hence not in a bad enough shape to destroy anyone who disrupted her beauty sleep.

“Shh, shh! We must not wake her up,” Loki whispered, immediately quieting down the excited dog.

It took a while for the two to come to bed. It warmed her heart when she noticed how careful Loki was to not wake her up as he changed into his pyjamas and climbed into his side of the bed. Her schedule was pretty erratic and he was always considerate to not disturb her when she rested. He took her hand that laid in between them and played with her fingers. For a man of enormous strength, he was incredibly gentle when he touched her. Loki’s comportment conveyed his yearning for her at having been deprived of her touch for so long, yet it somehow managed to show his considerate side as he restrained himself from inconveniencing her. Already tired of having let her fingers be still all this while, she reciprocated by entwining his with her own. Fingers interlocked with hers instinctively even before realisation struck him.

“Hey,” she breathed in her still sleepy daze, continuing playing with his hand. Like being sprayed on with water, she was rudely brought to full attention by the God who pulled her to his side of their large bed. He crawled under the duvet and let his fingers slowly creep from her shoulder right to her hand. The tip of his pointed nose along with his warm breath on her neck combined to send a shiver down her spine when he nuzzled her. Early on in their relationship, his blatant breathing in of her scent made her shyly bury her face in her palms, but they were way past all that now.

“You’re awake,” he said, his lips close enough to her skin for her to feel them on her as he spoke.

“Barely…”

“Did His Highness Wiggle Wagglesworth wake you up?”

She laughed softly, still finding their Corgi’s name too funny. “No, it was you who woke me up, Your Highness Loki Odinson, Prince of throwing things loudly to awaken his girlfriend.”

“My apologies, dear… Is forgiveness on the table?”

“No way.”

“Not even if I told you what was in the suitcase that woke you up? Not even if contains my armour that you found ‘hot as fuck’ when you went through old paintings of me? Hmm?”

Her breathing quickened with memories of seeing him in an old armour that he didn’t use anymore- apparently it had gone out of fashion two decades ago. But, she desperately wanted to see him wear it just for her eyes. It was in no condition for him to wear when she asked him to and she had forgotten about it until now.

He nipped her neck and she yelped before she involuntarily attempted to elbow him. It was unsuccessfully, as he was still holding her hand.

“You could persuade me for a reduced sentence,” she said softly, employing a sultry tone. It made her cringe a little and she was anxious that he might laugh in her face, but his response conveyed otherwise.

“I could…”

She reverted to a normal, non-sexual tone to burst his bubble. “Yeah, tomorrow. With the armour on.”

Tired from bifrsot travel, he gave in to her and their cozy duvet.

The next morning, Loki had singlehandedly completed all their chores and enthusiastically dressed himself in the old armour that managed to attract his partner’s attention. He didn’t know what she saw in it- or him, really- but he decided that whatever she wanted, she shall have. The day she showed interest in it and disappointment when he revealed that he no longer wore it, he rushed to his staff and ordered for it to be recreated to fit him with his changed dimensions. Initially, he waned to save it for a special occasion like a birthday or an anniversary, but then he was separated from her for a month, and decided that there was no occasion more special than when they were both unbelievably horny for each other.

Clipping the cape on, he turned around to check himself out on the mirror. Goddamn, he looked good in it. His woman had great taste.

She stepped out of the bathroom, clad in his silk robes, when their doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” he announced as he more or less stomped his way to their door. The robes could scare unsuspecting Midgardians, but he would rather a bunch of fools be frightened by him than see his woman look the way she did in his robes. Behind the door was not a poor unsuspecting Midgardian, but two.

Steve and Bucky stood with Fuzzy von Fluffykins and his luggage in hand.

“I was not aware that he was coming over, today,” he said pointedly at the kitten who was encased in a sock.

“We are so sorry, Loki. Our surrogate went into labor and Fuzzy’s sitter isn’t picking up our calls. I’m sorry to impose, but could you please, please take care of her until we come back,” Bucky rambled.

He should slam the door in the couple’s face. He did not like it one bit that they were taking advantage of his partner’s kindness and dumping their responsibilities on her. If they knew they could not handle caring for an animal, especially one so horrid, they should never have adopted one. But, they genuinely seemed to be in a tough predicament this time. So, he rolled his eyes and held his arms out for the creature as he prepared himself emotionally to deal with the insolent little thing. The men apologised again, thanked him, asked him to thank her and left in a hurry.

He wasn’t exactly the ‘sex on legs’ she described him to be in the armour when she finally saw him in it. Who would be, when holding Fuzzy and his worn out bag of toys and cat food? The ties of her robe was undone, revealing her lingerie, and she was ready for their much anticipated activities. Her smile dropped in confusion when she saw Fuzzy with him. She definitely had a lot of questions, but it seemed she was not interested in any of them.

“Okay, you’re going to set him down on that cushion and get your cute ass to the bedroom real quick.”

“Oh, good!” He breathed in relief as he did what he was told and followed her into their room. It was an ego booster to know that she was attracted to him even after seeing him holding the dumpster cat.

He locked the door behind him as Wiggle had the bad habit of walking into the room whenever they were about to do it. It was as though she knew what they were going to do and stopped them intentionally. Maybe, she felt that they were trying to make a baby and it would result in reduced love and attention for her. So, she would follow them inside and stare at them. Loki had seen horrible things in his life that other hadn’t, but he had to confess that there was nothing creepier than staring into the eyes of you puppy when you’re having sex.

“I have missed you so much…” he whispered, inching closer to her and backing her up against the wall. She reached out a hand, running her fingers over the bends and curves of the design on his armour. She traced her index finger on one such curve, inching slowly to his collar yet not touching him. As she was taking in the novelty of the armour, he moved her robe out of the way as he let his fingers slither to her back. Her breath hitched when he unclasped her bra, but it did not stop her from her admiration of him.

She cupped his cheek and he hummed in satisfaction as he relaxed into her touch, his eyes closed on their own accord as his touch-starved body greedily lapped up her affections. He was finally home.

“You’re so beautiful, Loki.”

Earlier, he believed that someday his heart would stop melting when she so openly appreciated him, but it was not today. It felt just as wonderful as the first time she ever told him that.

She saw the effect her words had on him, even when his eyes were closed. A whole beautiful God stood in front of her, wearing outdated clothes just because she asked for it, and he was all hers. He pulled against his body, and she pressed herself closer to him, the metal of his armour cold against her barely there lingerie.

She looped an arm around his neck and stood on her tip toes to reach his lips while he carefully bent down to do the same. He was so gentle with her, so mindful of himself to not hurt her with his helmet. When their lips finally connected, it was bliss.

Their long time apart had escalated their need for each other. Slow, soft pecks quickly turned into more as they pushed against each other in a desperate attempt to get closer to each other than they already were. Her robes lay forgotten and she might have even stepped on it a few times. Loki was awfully protective over his Asgardian silk clothing, but even he paid it no heed. Her hands hungrily roamed his body as she looked for a clasp or button or whatever the fuck she needed to undo to get to his body. She yanked his helmet off and threw it at the bed, grinning as she threaded her fingers through his soft hair and pulled, making him grit his teeth. In turn, she expect him to be more rough with her, but he ceased his ministrations abruptly. His grip on her loosened and he listened intently to something.

His eyebrows furrowed and he focused on something intently. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The cat,” he said, untangling himself from her body.

“No! Why are you ever listening to the cat now?” She asked, panting between breaths.

“He said something!”

“Oh, who cares what he meows-“

“Shhhh!” He said, raising his index finger.

“What the fuck, dude!?” She whispered, confused by his sudden unusual behaviour.

He gasped as though she said something to offend him, but with a delay of several seconds. It was almost as though it was a response to something said by someone else.

“That is it! He’s crossed the line!” Loki exclaimed before he angrily stormed out of the bedroom. Losing all hope of getting any, she hooked her bra, put the robe back on and followed him out to see what the fuss was all about. She found him in an intense stare down contest with Fuzzy von Fluffykins who tried to look more imposing than a squishy kitty could ever hope to be.

“What did you say to Wiggle?”

Meow

“Oh, I heard you loud and clear, you little demon!”

Meow

“You are in my home and I will not have you, a useless miniature tiger, mock her under my roof.”

Meow

“Oh, is that how it is now?”

This time, the kitten meowed louder and Loki lost his shit.

“How dare you!?”

“Okay, if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on right now, I’ll- I’ll-” She clearly hadn’t thought through this threat. “Tell me!”

“He has been taunting and mocking Wiggle. He said she was a poor excuse for a dog, a failure in her basic function to humans due to her inability to protect us!”

Meow

“It is not like you are of any use to humans! Wiggle here, provides companionship, plays games, fetches the newspaper every morning and she is younger than you are! You, however, are not just a waste of space, but a menace to society!”

“Loki, that’s so mean! Stop it!”

“I am not going to stand by and watch our as our puppy is bullied.” As though glad for the empathy, Wiggle cuddled up to his legs and Loki, being the caring pet owner he was picked him up and held him in his arms. The dog whimpered and Loki whispered words of reassurance as he cradled her.

It seemed that all the non-humans in the room were in on something while she was completely out of the loop. It was exactly how she felt when they were around Thor and the two spoke of life experiences she was not a part of- those that happened before her great grandparents were born- and hence couldn’t understand.

“He was just meowing! How did you get all that from meowing?”

“His sounds are just meows to you, but I can understand them.”

She raised her eyebrows in skepticism. What did he understand?

“Allspeak,” he said, waving his arm dismissively.

“Wow, Oh My God. Really?” She knew that he could understand the millions of languages of the universe owing to Allspeak, but didn’t know that communicating with other creatures was a part of it.

“Yes,” he said, very casually as though he didn’t just confirm that he could Talk. To. Animals. Forget teleportation and cloning! This was his best ability. She began dreaming of all the things she could do with this special ability of his- she would finally know what dogs were thinking! She could tell everyone what dogs say when they were barking! It would be a blessing to humanity to finally understand what Man’s Best Friend really thought of them. She could- no, wait!

He was messing with her! It was April Fool’s Day and he was feeding her shit about how he could communicate with animals. Last year, he told Thor that Crocs with socks and all denim outfits were the pinnacle of human fashion . The poor man walked around with no clue about why he was being stared at- more than usual, at least.

“Okay, ha ha. You fooled me. Now, drop the act and come to bed.”

“Act? Our puppy is hurt, honey.” He cuddled Wiggle closer to him as though she was out to get their puppy.

She pinched the bridge of the nose and let of a frustrated sigh. “I usually enjoy you April Fool’s Day pranks, but not when it involves you abandoning me after making me all hot and bothered.”

“You think this is my prank?” He scoffed mockingly, “Oh, please! I have something big planned for tonight- involving mayonnaise and duct tape. Moreover, why would I fake a conversation with that abominable creature when I could choose the obviously favourable alternative of not talking to him.”

“This is all shady,” She said, shaking her head. There was something going on. The kitten wasn’t even supposed to be here. “Why is Fuzzy even here? Bucky didn’t tell me anything about dropping him off. You set this up!”

“Once again, woman, why would I intentionally put myself in close quarters with Fuzzy? I let him stay only because James and Steven dropped by with the creature and basically begged me to take care him. Their surrogate called and they had to leave town immediately.”

“She’s giving birth?” She vaguely recalled Steve saying that the baby was due this month, but had forgotten about it completely.

“I do not recall. I was too focused on getting back to you to think about babies.”

“I’m going to call them and check.”

“You don’t trust me?”

When she didn’t respond, and proceeded to text Bucky, Loki grew disappointed.

“I’m taking Wiggle on a walk.” He mumbled before he left, still carrying the dog. He didn’t even bother to take Wiggle’s leash.

After he left, she got the confirmation that Buck and Steve’s surrogate was indeed in labor. She congratulated the couple, changed into comfortable pyjamas and sulked on the couch with the kitten chewing on his toys next to her. She felt bad for not believing Loki when he told her about the baby and texted him her apology, hoping he would come back. She was however met with the ding of his phone which sat on the dining table. He didn’t have the habit of taking his phone with him when he went outside. It was understandable as he was not human and found no need for it, but annoying in situations such as this.

The doorbell rang and she excitedly ran up to it, but was disappointed to find the wrong Odinson brother.

“Hello, sister! Is Loki here?”

“No, he just left, actually. Took Wiggle on a walk.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed.

“Is it something important?”

“Yes. I came to collect my things. Long back, he stored my gifts for Jane in his pocket dimension. I forgot to get them from him and it’s her birthday next week.”

“You could wait for him,” she said, gesturing to the sofa. He gave her his usual wide smile and headed to the sofa before he stopped in his tracks. He shrieked a very manly shriek and dragged her, putting her between himself and the sofa.

“Odin’s beard! Why didn’t you tell me he was here?”

“Oh, Fuzzy? Loki and I are just taking care of him for a while until Steve and Bucky come back.”

“I have to go, sister!”

That was so silly! It was like the Odinsons had something against adorable, fluffy kittens. Were cats antagonised in their culture? Did they have a bad shared experience with one? She grabbed him by his wrist and stopped him from leaving. She had to know what this was about.

“It’s okay, Thor! He’s just a lil’ kitty. He won’t hurt you,” she reassured, but the tall, muscley God refused to forsake her as a human shield. She could feel his fear from the tight grip he had on her shoulders.

“He called me a big, dumb idiot with an empty skull the last time I met him!”

“What? Did Loki put you up to this?” She asked, suspicious of his behaviour. Last year, she was in on Loki’s prank on Thor. So, it was possible that they were pranking her together.

“No, why would he do that?”

“Okay, be truthful. Can you actually communicate with animals?”

“Yes, of course. Allspeak was a compulsory class for us, growing up.” As far as she knew, Thor was not capable of putting up an act for so long without breaking into laughter. He really was telling the truth…

“Shit! I have to go!”

Thor tried to stop her and said something about being too afraid to be left alone with the creature, but she had no time to listen to him as she hurried out with her phone and purse.

Thankfully, they had fitted Wiggle with a GPS collar, worried that he might get lost what with his habit of wandering off. So, she didn’t have to look for them everywhere. When she reached the park, she spotted Loki who was now wearing a black shirt and pants- his default when he got changed using magic. He was sat on a park bench while a couple of children played with Wiggle who was having the time of her life with all the attention being directed towards her. Loki constantly had his eyes on the pup, probably anxious that the children might hurt his precious creature.

She was the first to speak as she sat by him.

“I’m sorry. I really thought you were pranking me.”

He turned to look at her, but said nothing. He was still mad at her, but let her loop her arm around his and lean on him with her head on his shoulder, so all wasn’t lost. The physical contact must’ve softened him because he suddenly looked at her and smiled his sweet, boyish smile that others rarely saw.

“You could persuade me for a reduced sentence.”

#loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fic #loki x ofc #loki x reader #loki fanfic #Kitten from Hell versus God #Reduced Sentence #loki laufeyson x reader #loki is a good boyfriend #loki loves corgis #Loki is a good Dog!Dad #loki fluff #loki smut #barely tho #he gets cockblocked by a kitten #poor dude

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the-weeping-author · 4 years

Text

Dreams can be deceiving.

A/N: this was inspired from a fic I read, so I decided to write something like it. I’m super excited about it, and I hope y’all like it.

Warnings: cussing, mentions death, blood, graphic (so be warned.)

Wordcount: 963

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @harringtown @harrington-ofhawkins @linkispink1995 @gardeniasandwhiskey @pappydaddy @theworldisugly-22 @phoebethepheebs @bvrningdesires @lxvesickreality @bluebellbrooke @thenameishayley248 @ghostineleven @simplesammyx

Please enjoy 😊

*Steve’s POV*

It was any ordinary day for us in Hawkins, but like any good day it had to come to an end. Everyone decided to go to the beach. It was late, and Y/N and I were still there just talking amongst ourselves while Dustin was still swimming.

All of a sudden I felt like something wasn’t right, My gut just kept telling me to stay at the beach with Dustin and Y/N, but for some reason here we were heading towards the Byers house for a sleepover. When we got there they were in the yard fighting demogorgon’s, but before I could get the fuck out of there Y/N and Dustin were out of the car.

“Shit.”

I said under my breath while popping the trunk, grabbing the nail coated bat. Everyone was doing good holding off their demogorgon. My gaze shifted to everyone making sure they were okay. After I killed mine my first instinct was to go to Dustin to help him.

Next thing I knew I heard a spine chilling scream. I snapped my head towards the direction the scream came from, there you were laying on the floor, the grass shined a dark crimson, my heart dropped.

Everyone was standing over you crying. My feet moved me towards the crowd cautiously. When I got to you my eyes widened. You had a huge chuck ripped out of your side, for once I was scared to touch you. You looked horrible, and I felt like Joyce did when Bob died.

You were trying to keep your breath steady, but I could tell it was getting harder and harder by the minute so I grabbed your hand.

“Y/N come on stay with us, someone call an ambulance.”

I wasn’t as upset until No one moved, they knew what was happening just like I did. The ambulance wouldn’t make it in time. You’d die on their front lawn, and I was panicking.

I grabbed your hand kissing it hard to get you to focus on me.

“Y/N please stay with me, you can’t leave me. You just can't, I love you.”

I felt a light grip on my hand so I opened my eyes. That’s when the tears flew down my cheeks.

“S-Steve….”

“Y/N? Y/N I’m here just hold on please.”

You coughed, and blood went down your chin, you could see your muscles tighten when you coughed. I couldn’t stop myself from crying harder you were dying and I couldn’t bear to lose you.

“You can’t leave me! You promised me we’d be together forever.”

You cracked a faint smile then coughed again.

“O-oh Stevie we will be together just not right now, I’ll see you again t-though, b-but d-did we beat them?”

I smiled down at your pale face kissing your forehead.

“Yeah baby we beat them.”

You smiled, closed your eyes taking your last breath. The warm smile on your face went stiff. That’s when remorse sank into my gut.

“Y/N, please please wake up. Don’t you leave me. You can’t leave me. We were supposed to get married, have kids, and die together.”

I sat up in bed sweat dripping down my chest, and forehead. When I checked the bed beside me it was empty, that’s when my stomach dropped and anxiety kicked in. I threw the covers off me then walked out my room.

*Y/N Pov*

I was in the kitchen taking the cookies out of the oven, I sat them on the stove. Next thing I know I’m almost knocked over. I turned to look at my boyfriend Steve Harrington attached to my waist.

“I’m glad to see you too.”

I chucked wrapping my arms around him, my smiled dropped when I heard him let out a sob.

“Wait Steve what’s wrong?”

Steve has a mission, and that was to make sure I was really here. His fingers inspected my face. While his fingers were on my lips I decided to bite him, and he jumped back letting out a breath he must have been holding in.

“Oh thank god you’re really here.”

He practically cried when the realization sank in, I raised a brow at him while he wiped his face.

“Steve why the hell wouldn’t I be here?”

He looked down at me hugging me again.

“I had a bad dream.”

I smiled at him, he was like a scared child, It was so cute.

“Okay what happened in this dream.”

“Basically you died and I couldn’t deal with it.”

I giggled at him.

“Steve, baby it’s okay I’m right here.”

He sighed, played with his hands.

“I know, I know but it just seemed so real, and I don’t want you to leave my side ever okay?”

I looked at him but the look in his eyes was pleading me to agree to that. Which of course I did just so he could sleep peacefully.

I grabbed his hand then kissed it, I walked to the cabinet to grab a plate when Steve grabbed two glasses, filled them with milk. When I got the cookies on the plate we went outside to the pool, and ate the cookies out there and just talked.

I fell in love with him a long time ago, and I knew he felt the same way. Dreams are a scary thing. You never know what’s real and what’s fantasy. Besides each other, but even the dreams were still deceiving enough to make it seem like it was real life, but I knew as long as Steve and I woke up to see each other we’d know it was just a figment of our imagination but I knew Steve and I would be okay.

A/N: sorry this is so short, but I loved writing it. I’m writing today so let’s see if I can get anything else out today. Thanks for the support btw it means a lot.

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things angst

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dacrethehalls · 5 years

Text

Wild Flowers

Summary: Samantha Harrington never expected to spend her entire spring break with Billy Hargrove and Billy Hargrove never expected to fall in love with Samantha Harrington.

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: *RE-POSTED FROM MY OLD ACCOUNT* loosely based on the Chateau music video Dacre is in. credit to Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstine for the quotes in this, and shout out to all my faves who we name dropped in this.

******

"Hey....Emily.....No, Amanda? No-no, it's Laura!" Tommy H. sputtered, leaning against my locker. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my books and balancing against my hip.

"Tommy, we have literally been in the same class since we were seven and you still can't remember my name." I muttered, slamming my locker shut.

"Shit, it's Andy isn't it? Or is it...something that Starts with an R? Or is it a K? Kiki right?"

He could have gone on for hours guessing my name and would still get it wrong. I held up my hand, shaking my head,

"Stop before you hurt yourself. What do you want?" I asked, shifting the weight on my feet.

"Billy is busy today, he said his brother is in town or something and I was going to ask you to-"

"If you finish that sentence with 'ask Steve', I will punch you." I cut off, turning on my heel and strutting towards the parking lot.

"Aw, come on Regan lighten up! " He yelled as he ran to catch up with me.

"That's not my name either." I groaned, "Give it a rest will ya? And last time I checked, you and Steve are not friends...like... at all so go find someone else to blindly follow."

Tommy crossed his arms glaring at me,

"Oh my god. Yes, I'll talk to him."

He smiled at me as I kept walking,

"Thank you, Dot!" He yelled out as I stuck my middle finger in the air.

"That boy really needs to get his own personality." I breathed

I plod out to my car unlocking it,

"Maddie wait!" I let out a defeated groan. "What do you want Keith?"

"Can you cover my shift tonight?"

"I quit The Palace like, three weeks ago." I huffed, leaning on my car.

"And for the last time my name is Samantha. Like the show Bewitched"

"I thought your name was Krista?"

I rolled my eyes, getting in my car driving home.

******

"Not one, but seven. Seven different names Steve. All of which are nowhere close to mine." I grumbled laying across his bed.

"Sammy, relax."

"It's kinda hard to when you have lived in the same town your entire life and nobody can remember your name. Samantha." I drew my name out slowly, "It comes after 'Steve and'."

"Uh so i'm taking Dustin and the others to see a movie tonight. I won't be home until later."

"Way to change the subject, asshole."

"What?"

"I'm telling you that your friends are being pricks to me and you just mention going to the movies with some random kid."

"He's a good kid, Sam."

"Doesn't matter if he's the goddamn president of the United States, I'm telling you that something upsets me and you're blowing me off!"

"Sam, you can't let things like that upset you, okay? Now I gotta go or we'll be late for the showing."

"What I really need is to spend time with my big brother and just forget about this whole stupid thing."

"Maybe later!" He hollered, already out the bedroom door and trotting down the stairs.

I rolled my eyes, rolling onto my stomach and letting out a frustrated groan, blowing the hair away from my face.

Those were always the words I got from Steve when I asked if I could hang out with him; maybe later.

******

The next day at school was the usual, being ignored, people getting my name wrong, including teachers.

I had a nice cry at lunch in my car and ended my day in my favorite spot, a field full of wildflowers outside of the football field.

When the snow started melting away and the temperature went up I would spend my afternoon out there finishing homework and picking the flowers around me. I sat with my legs crossed, a pile of Johnny jump ups and dandelions beside me. I wound the stems together, finding the process relaxing.

"Samantha!" I jerked my head in the direction the voice came from, Billy Hargrove was striding towards me.

"Hi?" I questioned as he reached the blanket I was sitting on,

"Hey, so I was out of school for a few days," he chuckled, pointing at the disappearing bruise under his eye, "Basketball concussion, any way, we have third period chem together and I was wondering if I could copy your notes...and maybe your homework." He asked

Of course the only thing he wanted with me was to use me for my homework. At least he actually knew my name. I'll give him that. I leaned over to my bag, grabbing my chemistry notes handing them to him.

"Do you mind if I sit here with you incase I have questions? I know missing one of Mrs. Valentine's classes really means missing like, five classes. I've missed three so basically I'm fucked."

I chuckled, scooting over on my blanket to make room for him,

"Nah, Mrs. V has been out sick we've had a sub so you haven't missed much."

He offered me a soft smile, pulling his notebook put laying on his stomach, scribbling words on his paper,

"Man, you're pretty thorough, color coded and everything." He noticed, his eyes scanning over the highlighted words and pink gel pen. I hummed in acknowledgement, eyes focusing on the floral stems I held in my lap as I weaved them together.

"Jeez, I may as well just be reading the damn textbook... except at least this shit makes sense." He grumbled as he tapped his pencil against his notepad.

"Yup." I hummed, mindlessly twisting the stems around each other.

I still couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Billy Hargrove barely gave anybody the time of day, let alone me. Sure, he had his little groupies that followed him around, but they were nowhere in sight. Even Tommy was gone.

"So, uh, you got any spring break plans?" I questioned.

"Not really. My brother is in town, though."

"Billy Hargrove doesn't have any spring break plans?" I gasped, placing my hand over my heart, "What, you aren't going back to bright, sunny California?"

"Pfft, I wish." He scoffed, "Get the hell out of here. It's April and it's still cold!"

"Yeah, that's the midwest for ya." I sighed,

I plopped the flower crown I was weaving on to Billy's head making him break his concentration.

"What's this?" He huffed, poking away his curls from his face as his eyes darted up at me. His brows were knit together in confusion, almost going cross eyed as he attempted to get a walked at what was on his head.

"It's a crown." I beamed, placing the other one I made on my own head, "The purple and yellows in the flowers really bring out the blue in your eyes."

"What kind of hippie bullshit is this?" He questioned, plucking it off of his head and staring at it. Despite his gruff demeanor, I could see the blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Oh, come on. It makes you walked... soft..." I hummed, gently taking it from his grasp and putting it back on his head.

"Soft?" He scoffed.

Of all the things he had ever been described as, it was never soft. He was more likely to hear a string of profanities and slurs directed at him than to be called soft. Hell, I was occasionally known to call him a dickhead every once in a while. Especially after what he did to my brother. I was about ready to take that spiked bat and go after the bastard myself.

"Balances out the black eye, you know? Actually... it kinda matches." I observed, staring at the eerie yellow color that crept under his eye and in towards his nose. A sign that the bruise was healing.

Billy took his crown off once again, setting it next to his notebook.

"Question." I blurted,

Billy hummed as I laid back on the blanket, looking over at him while he continued to scribble notes down.

"How the hell do you know my name?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow, staring at me, "I sit behind you in third and sixth period. I see you write it on your paper. Now your last name I don't know."

I let out a loud laugh, sitting up,

"You're kidding me right? Billy, you have to be joking."

The expression on his face led me to believe he was serious,

"Samantha Harrington, otherwise known as The Other Harrington, Steve's Sister, Hey You, Little Harrington, Dakota, Anna, Becca, any and every name that is not remotely close to Samantha." I huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from my eyes.

"You and Steve are siblings?" He pressed.

"He's a whopping 18 months older than me. My parents only wanted one kid, I was an accident. They sorta treat me that way too, the entire town does." I scoffed, rolling my eyes,

"They give me a credit card just so I wont bother them. But I don't use it. I don't need shit from them."

His eyes studied my features, eyebrow still raised as if he expected me to keep talking,

"When I graduate, I'm getting the hell out of Indiana." I sighed, fiddling with the stems of the flowers I had left in my lap.

"I want to travel, live in my car go on fun adventures with my best friend-if I had one. Find a house in a field of flowers. Make as many crowns as I want." I said, placing the flowers once again on Billy's head.

He let a grunt out in defeat as he moved the curls from his eyes once again,

"You know, if you got that cut off, you wouldn't have to keep brushing it out of your eyes." I commented.

"No way in hell I'm cutting this baby off." He replied, smoothing his hand over his hair after taking the crown off again.

I rolled my eyes for what must've been the dozenth time,

"Tommy mentioned something about your brother being in town."

Billy let out a disgusted groan,

"Unfortunately."

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad. He's the favorite son... Star football player, got a scholarship to some school he's way too stupid to attend." Billy griped.

"Does he have a better hair cut? When's the last time you brushed that rats nest?" I questioned, picking up the flower crown and placing it on his head for the hundredth time. Billy grunted in defeat, sitting up.

"According to everyone, he has a better everything then me." Billy rolled his eyes, pulling his cigarettes from his jacket pocket placing one between his lips.

"Bad habit." I scolded, taking it from his mouth and replacing it with a flower.

Billy grunted again, spitting the flower onto the ground as a dragonfly flew over us then zig zagged back, landing on Billy's shoulder. He glanced over at it with a soft expression before moving his shoulder so it would fly away.

"You know dragonflies are often thought to be loved ones coming to visit you after passing away. According to the Native Americans, they bring rejuvenation after hardship." I announced, watching another dragonfly zip past us.

Billy closed his book and sat up, "Thank you, Sam." He yawned, standing up.

"You're welcome, if you ever need my notes again just ask." I chuckled as Billy put another cigarette between his lips.

"I may take you up on that, Sam. Turn the B I have into an A." He laughed as he attempted to light his cigarette, "It's getting dark out, you okay out here by yourself? Or if you want I can walk you out to your car or give you a ride home."

"Thanks, but I might stay out here a little bit longer. The stars are almost out, I like watching them." I mused, earning a raised eyebrow from Billy.

"Okay. well, have a good spring break Sammie. Thanks again." He conceded, rocking back on his heels and heading towards the parking lot.

******

A tap at my window nearly made me jump out of my skin. I spun around in my desk chair, opening the blinds, assuming Steve was an idiot and forgot his key again. To my surprise, a familiar mullet-headed boy offered me a grin and a wave. I glanced over my shoulder to my bedroom door that was still ajar. I rushed over to close it, being careful not to slam it for fear of Steve finding out who was at my window.

I returned to the window sill, unlatching it and throwing it open. I watched as Billy climbed through my window, nearly knocking my glass of water off my night stand.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned.

"You want to travel? Go on an adventure? Let's do it." He panted, adjusting his jacket as he got his footing on the carpet.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Let's just forget about this shitty town and our shitty parents and step out of the shadow of our siblings."

I stared up at him, dumbfounded for a moment, only to notice a new bruise on his cheek. I furrowed my brows,

"Billy. What happened?"

"Don't worry about it, Sammie," He murmured, walking over to my bookshelf glancing at the books, various academic trophies, and my collection of porcelain horses.

He picked up my polaroid camera, pointing it towards me and snapping a picture of me.

"Excuse you!" I exclaimed, trying to snatch the photo out of his hand as he shook it.

"Not a chance, princess."

"Princess." I mumbled under my breath.

He placed the picture in his jacket pocket as he grinned down at me,

"Are you really that desperate to do something over spring break that you want to spend it with me? The other Harrington?" I questioned, crossing my arms.

"Sam, knock it off. You may be a little off your rocker but it's in an endearing way," Billy grinned, lifting the camera up and pointing it at me and getting into the frame as well.

"So what do you say? Hmm? Let's go on an adventure, use up some of mommy and daddy's money. Get out of Indiana or not." He clicked the shutter button, making the camera flash.

He grinned at me, placing that picture in his jacket pocket as well.

This boy was completely crazy, but I knew that Steve would be too preoccupied with the kids that decided he was the best brother figure they could find. He wouldn't even notice that his own flesh and blood sibling was gone. It would also drive Steve up the wall if he found out who I was with.

"Okay. Fine, let's go." I cheered, jumping up and grabbing my bag, packing a bunch of clothes for various occasions. Billy sat on my bed watching as I ran around my room gathering as many things as I could.

"I don't know if Steve is still awake or not so you gotta go back through my window. I'll meet you outside in like ten minutes." I whispered as Billy got up and started climbing out my window.

I shut it behind him, grabbing my bag and heading down the stairs.

"Hey Steve, I'll be home later." I called, walking past him and all his middle schoolers who were all yelling at one another.

Steve threw up a thumb, not even acknowledging me as I pranced out the front door. The thought of getting out of Hawkins sounded more and more appealing. I bumped my bag into Billy's butt, making him turn around.

"There you are." He grinned, taking my bag from my hands.

"We're taking the Camaro."

"No, we're taking Priscilla."

"What the fuck is a Priscilla?"

I grinned, nodding my head to my bright red 1965 Volkswagen Beetle, my baby that I had saved up for and bought myself after turning sixteen.

"I am not riding in that death trap."

"It's okay, Prissy. The mean mullet man didn't mean to call you a death trap. He's just intimidated." I cooed, patting her hood and smirking over at Billy.

"I'm not intimidated." Billy whispered under his breath.

"Then lets go!" I giggled, taking my bag from him and putting it in the back seat.

Billy shook his head, opting not to continue the argument. He grabbed his bag, placing it next to mine.

"You can park your car in the garage."

I pulled out, Billy replacing my spot in the garage with his car. I shut the door as Billy climbed into my car with a grunt.

"So, I didn't think I could actually talk you into doing this since we kinda just met, so I didn't plan this far ahead." Billy admitted, glancing at me.

"It's okay. I know a great place to go to start our adventure."

******

"What the hell is this place?"

"Some boujee country club my parents used to belong to." I replied, "It's disgustingly expensive."

"Then what exactly are we doing here?" He replied, raising an eyebrow at me.

"We're getting a room for the night. For free."

"For free? Yeah, right." He scoffed.

"You think I can't do it? What with my Harrington charm?" I drawled, twirling a strand of hair around my finger.

He rolled his eyes at me,

"Tell you what, let's make a bet." I proposed.

"Now you've got my attention."

I pursed my lips, humming to myself as I thought of what our wager should be,

"If we get in... you have to get your mullet cut off."

"Hey! No way in hell!"

"What, you worried that I'm right?"

"No." He scoffed.

"Then what's your wager if you win?"

"Priscilla." He smirked.

"You got a deal."

His smirk dropped as he realized that I had the confidence to bet my car, my baby. He knew he was getting that haircut.

"Come on, blondie!" I called as I skipped up to the front of the club.

Billy and I both wondered to the front doors, inside a fountain trickled in the background and the pristine white tiles reflected the lights from the ceiling.

"Welcome, how can we help you?" The woman behind the front desk greeted. "Hello, I'm Samantha..Harring...rove.. uh Hargrove," I chirped, glancing up at Billy who looked at me with shock, "And this is my Husband.....Billy." I snaked my arm through his, leaning my head on his shoulder hugging him into my side.

He put on an unconvincing fake grin, flashing it at the woman,

"My parents had a membership here and Billy and I are newly weds. They gifted us a membership under their names." I chided.

"Yes ma'am! What are your parents' names?"

"Timothy and Patricia Harrington."

The lady's head shot up at the sound of my parents names.

"I didn't know Timmy and Trish had a daughter! I thought Steve was their only child." She beamed as I dug my nails into Billy's arm.

He cleared his throat, slightly nudging me in an attempt to get me to loosen my grip,

"You know, your parents said this place was nice, but I hear there's a much better place upstate. Maybe we should cancel the membership and head up their instead."

"If you stay here, all of our newly weds get complimentary room service." The woman offered, startled by Billy's suggestion to take our money elsewhere.

"That sounds nice, doesn't it, sweetheart?" I encouraged.

He gave me a nod, letting out a sigh of relief when I retracted my nails from his skin.

"You'll be staying in suite 315, it's between the gym and the indoor heated pool." She instructed, pointing out the window behind her.

"Thank you." I cheered enthusiastically.

"Congrats!" She called after us as we stepped back outside. Billy pulled his arm from mine,

"I think you made me bleed." He commented, staring down at the half moon marks on the inside of his arm.

"Don't be such a baby." I retorted, going to the door of our room and shoving the key in the lock.

I let out a sigh of relief as the chilled air from the room hit me in the face. The bed was enormous, covered in crisp, white sheets with the logo of the club embroidered into them with green thread. Billy trailed in behind me, throwing his bag down on the floor by the bedside table. I slipped off my shoes, immediately hopping off the floor and landing face first on the bed.

"They're so soft!" I exclaimed, voice muffled by the sheets against my skin.

Billy laid on his side beside me, reading off the menu of the country club's overpriced restaurant,

"On tonight's dinner menu we have pacific caviar and braised lamb with whipped garlic parmesan mashed spuds." He mocked in the most obnoxious, rich old lady accent I had ever heard. And I had heard my fair share of obnoxious rich old ladies at my parent's stupid dinner parties, "Darling, I heard the wine selection is to dieeee for." I rolled over, flicking my wrist while holding my hand over my heart.

"How about we just order a pizza and go for drinks later at that bar we passed. Maybe do some golf cart races?"

"Sounds like a plan to me. But first we have to do something with that rats nest on that head of yours." I smirked, running my fingers in his curls.

Billy swatted my hand away, turning his head to glare at me.

"The mullet stays," he mumbled.

"But my dear husband, remember the bet we made in the car? The one where if I could actually get us a room here you would cut your hair." I giggled, tapping his nose.

"It's never going to happen. I don't remember shaking on that deal." He grunted.

"You lost fair and square buddy. Say bye bye to the mullet."

******

I smirked as Billy strolled out of the salon, his mullet was gone and replaced by a clean shave in the back and his natural curls still up front.

He looked even more handsome than before. I let out a whistle letting, him know I liked it.

"It looks like shit," He objected, crossing his arms.

"No it doesn't. Now come on, there's a club here we can go to. We'll have a few drinks then go back to the room and order pizza." I hummed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the club.

"This place is obnoxious." Billy cringed, peering around at all the random couples spread throughout the bar.

"It's a country club. It's supposed to be obnoxious." I chimed, pulling Billy to a table and sitting down at it.

We ordered a few drinks and a appetizer as we people watched the rich folk around us.

The beginning of the song from Dirty Dancing started blasting through the speakers, making me gasp. I turned my gaze over to Billy with a big grin on my face.

I didn't even have to say a damn word,

"No."

"Come on please, I've always wanted to do it. Billy PLEASE!" I begged as I started swaying my hips along to the song.

I danced around his chair as he watched me with a deadpan expression,

"You're the one thing I can't get enough of!" I belted.

"No."

"AND I OWE IT ALL TO YOUUUUU." I sang as Billy groaned, standing up and walking away from me.

"Oh, come on! Where are you going?" I laughed as I kept dancing

"Are we going to do this or not?"

I let out a loud squeal, causing the people around to stare at us.

I started singing at the top of my lungs, walking towards Billy grabbing his hand as we started to twist back and forth along to the song.

"This will never happen again," He gibbed as I twirled around him.

"This is our first dance as husband and wife. We had to make it memorable." I quipped, doing a boogie away from him as the song built up. I kept swaying back and forth before running towards Billy and jumping as he caught me by the hips, lifting me above his head.

I crossed my legs, putting my arms out, smiling knowing that Jennifer Grey would be so proud.

I smiled down at Billy who had a huge shit eating grin plastered across his face. He placed me back on my feet, pulling me closer to him as we kept dancing.

"Ahem, Mr. and Mrs Hargrove, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the club for tonight. You are disrupting the rest of the customers."

Billy and I glanced over at the waiter, busting out in laughter as we ran out of the bar. "People don't know how to have a good time anymore." I groaned as we stumbled into the lobby.

Billy grabbed my hand, pulling me over to the grand piano in the corner.

"I noticed your keyboard in your room. You play?" He asked, sitting on the bench.

He cracked his knuckles, wiggling his fingers before pressing them on the keys, playing the beginning of Claire De Lune.

I glanced at him from my peripheral, pressing my fingers on the keys, playing along with him. "Been playing since I was seven. Rode my bike to my lessons every week."

Billy bit down on his lip before the corners of his mouth turned up.

"I think I started lessons at seven too."

"Who knew the Billy Hargrove has a thing for Debussy and ivory keys." I praised.

He swayed along to the music we were producing together,

"Ahem."

We both turned our heads over at the person behind the desk who was pointing at the giant sign behind us stating that the piano was not to be touched.

"Oops." I giggled, standing up, "Let's go back to our room before we get into more trouble."

"Nah, I'm sure we can find some more trouble we can get into." Billy chirped, standing up. We both shuffled outside and around the country club before coming up to a closed off section.

"You ever crash a wedding before?" I smirked, eyeing Billy as he lit a cigarette.

"Bad habit!" I scolded, taking the stick out of his mouth and replacing it with the pendant from his necklace.

"Will you stop that!" He grunted, taking the cigarette back from me, "We are not crashing somebody's wedding."

We continued our walk around the courtyard, coming across a golf cart. We both looked at each other than made a mad dash to the vehicle

Billy slid me over to the passenger side before climbing in the driver's side, pressing his foot all the way down on the gas pedal.

He drove off the sidewalk turning the wheel sharply making golf cart whip around in a circle.

Before long, the security guards pulled us over, screaming at us to stop and pointing at more signs stating boring rules for the boring people who actually paid money to stay at this place.

We laughed all the way back to the hall leading to our suite,

"Tonight was fun." Billy cackled as we walked into our suite.

"Yeah it was. I'll take the bed. Is the couch okay with you?" I questioned as Billy pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor and falling face first onto the couch.

"Mmhmm." He hummed.

"Good night, Billy." I whispered throwing a blanket over him.

He let out another soft hum.

"Good night, Sammie."

******

The next morning, I woke up and went down to the travel desk in the lobby, setting up all the things I needed to to surprise Billy with a small trip to California.

I tiptoed into the living room and over to the couch, shaking Billy slightly. "Wake up sleepyhead. Check out is in an 45 minutes and our flight leaves in an hour."

Billy grunted, lifting his head to walked at me.

"Did you just say flight?" He grumbled, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"Sure did. The in-laws bought us round trip tickets to California for the next two days." I beamed as Billy sat straight up, looking at me.

"Did you really buy tickets to go to Cali? Sam, you're shitting me."

Billy climbed over the couch, picking me up hugging me to him. "Thank you Sammie!"

I leaned in kissing Billy's nose, causing him jump a little from shock,

"Come on and get dressed!" I trilled, pushing him toward the bathroom.

******

The flight was longer than I expected it to be. Once we landed in California, I picked up the car I had rented. I eyed Billy who about fell on the ground when the blue convertible Corvette was brought to us. "That's the car you decided to rent!?" He exclaimed, almost drooling over it.

"Mmhm," I hummed, throwing my bag in the back seat and then climbing in the front.

"You know where the Chateau Marmont is?" I questioned, smiling at him.

"Did you get us a room there?" His eyes grew wide.

"Nah, it was too expensive, even for my parents. I booked a hotel overlooking the beach."

Once we got settled into the hotel, both of us were starving. We ventured out, finding some Mexican restaurant that Billy started raving about.

The food was decent and not too expensive but it wasn't like I was afraid of my parents finding out about me spending the amount of money I had in the past few days. They didn't care as long as I didn't bother them.

"Hey!" Billy yelled, catching up to me. "Uh..um.. I got you this," He panted, placing a heart shaped ring into my hand.

I examined it, smiling up at him, "Tanzanite, the December birthstone has energy for emotional healing from all worries. It brings happiness." I informed.

"Yeah..okay. I uh, just found a quarter on the ground and put it in a gumball machine. I mean, you're my wife and I didnt even give you a ring so." He grinned, gesturing to the ring.

"See, tanzanite brings happiness." I beamed as I slipped the ring on my left hand.

"So, does your mom live here?" I questioned as we made our way down the street.

"No. She passed away a while back." He sighed, a frown forming on his face.

"I'm sorry for your loss. You two were close?"

He nodded

"My mother was my best friend, she was a phenomenal woman. I never understood what she ever saw in my dad, he's a shit person." He chided through clenched teeth.

"Does he do this to you?" I asked, lightly touching the yellowing on his skin. He ignored me, walking ahead of me getting into the car.

"He does doesn't he? Are you going to be okay when we go back to Indiana?"

"Yes, Sam, I'll be okay." He retorted as we drove off into the direction of the hotel.

"Are you sure? If you ever need a place to stay you are we-"

"I'm fine Sam. Drop it." He snapped, cutting me off.

"Billy Hargrove is that you?!" Billy's head snapped to the car beside us at the red light we were stopped at.

"Sure is." He chortled, pulling his sunglasses down to his nose.

"Are you back for good?" The guy asked.

Billy shook his head "Nah, my....Sam and I came here for our spring break. We're leaving tomorrow night."

The guy in the car frowned as the light turned green.

"There's a party tonight at Olivia's place! Better see you there!" The boy yelled, driving off.

Billy's eyes lit up as he glanced over at me.

"Party tonight?" He questioned.

I pursed my lips together, rolling my eyes,

"Do we have to?" I groaned.

"Yes, I haven't seen these people in a long time!"

No matter how hard I tried to change Billy's mind, he wouldn't budge. And that's how I ended up at a party full of people I didn't know, sitting next to a Pug named Joe. Not exactly my ideal way of spending my first time in California. But I could tell that Billy missed his friends so I tried my best not to complain.

Music blared through the house as random teens danced around to Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne. I pushed past the crowd, finding Billy talking to some random girl by the keg as he poured himself another beer.

I was never a partier, when my brother dated Nancy Wheeler, she would always make him take me to parties. Most of the time it would end with me walking home or me hitching a ride from Jonathan Byers who hated parties as much as I did.

I stood next to Billy, nudging him with my elbow, frowning at him nodding my head towards the gate we had walked through when we arrived to the party.

"Sam, it's a party go have fun. Go drink." Billy shooed at me with his solo cup.

I rolled my eyes, walking towards the beach, digging my toes in the sand once I set foot on the grain surface. I plucked a few evening primrose from the steps, placing the stems into my plaited hair as I continued further down to the water. The booming music became more and more distant.

The beach was beautiful, and the California sunset even more so. What everyone considered a beach in Hawkins didn't even compare to this.

I took my time walking along the shore, picking up only the best shells and pieces of sea glass.

"Why aren't you at the party?" I heard a voice from behind me, I recognized it, so I didn't bother to look up,

"What're you doing?" He asked, watching as I scooped a sand dollar off the sand before the tide could pull it back in, "Collecting shells?"

"She sells seashells by the sea shore," I chirped, offering Billy the sand dollar. He rolled his eyes, taking it from me and throwing it into the ocean.

"Hey!" I hissed, crossing my arms.

"God dammit, Samantha can you not be weird for once? You're embarrassing me in front of my friends."

"I don't see anyone but us around," I shrugged, reaching into the water and picking up another shell.

"Sam. Please. Just pretend to be normal." He begged, reaching for the flowers woven into my braid and pulling them out.

"Excuse you!" I yelled, smacking his hands away, "Go party with your friends. I'll be okay by myself. Always have been." I fumed.

"I'm not leaving you out here alone. Just come back to the party, pretend to be normal and we'll come to the beach tomorrow."

"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

"Are you really quoting Dr. Seuss? This is the shit im talking about. Normal people don't quote Dr. Seuss."

"If normal people don't quote Dr. Seuss, how do you know it's a Dr. Seuss quote?" I replied, and that was as close to a rebuttal as he was going to get from me tonight. I wasn't about to get dragged in to a Billy Hargrove argument. Especially not on spring break.

Billy continued to follow me as I kept examining shells and placing them into my pockets.

"Somebody has to go polish the stars, They're looking a little bit dull. Somebody has to go polish the stars, For the eagles and starlings and gulls have been complaining they're tarnished and worn, They say they want new ones we cannot afford. So please get your rags and your polishing jars, Somebody has to go polish the stars." I beamed, spinning in a small circle, kicking some water up at Billy.

He let out a frustrated groan,

"Harrington, you are really starting to piss me off." He snarled, grabbing my arm, "God, you're acting just like your brother." He snapped, "No wonder nobody bothers to get to know both of you, you're the same person."

I couldn't remain neutral any longer, I yanked my arm from his grasp and gave him a shove backward before turning on my heels and strutting back the way I came.

"Where the hell are you going?" He hollered.

I resisted the urge to turn around and scream back in his face as well as the urge to reach up to wipe the tears that had started to fall onto my cheek. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he hurt me. My attempt at escape was thwarted when he ran up behind me, grabbing my wrist and spinning me around to face him,

"Let go of me, Billy." I hissed, straining against his grasp.

He gripped onto me with white knuckles,

"Not until you tell me where the hell you're going."

"Away from you." I spat.

"I'm not letting you leave here by yourself."

"You don't own me, you don't get to decide what I can and can't do."

"You're out here with me, I'm responsible for you."

"I'm responsible for myself, always have been. Find your own way home, asshole." I tore myself from his grasp, turning my back on him and making my way back to the car we rented, climbing in.

******

I drove around for at least two hours before heading back to the hotel. I knew that eventually the asshole known as Billy Hargrove would make an appearance, taking place of the boy I had been around for the past few days.

I figured it was from him being vulnerable with me and opening up to me about his father and mother. But the loss of his best friend and the fear of his father gave him no right to treat me or any other person that tries to get close with him the way he treats them.

I grew up almost raising myself, in a semI neglectful home with a vain mother, an absent father, a star athlete and a favorite brother. And that made me angry. That my own flesh and blood never took the time to come to my piano recitals, or come cheer me on for any academic achievement.

Hell, I doubt anyone in my family even knew that I was graduating a year early. I was counting down the days to graduation. I would be my own person, I would travel to places and do things that my brother would be too scared or stupid to do.

I opened the door to our hotel room to find Billy slumped on the couch asleep. I went over to him, taking his boots off and covering him up with a blanket.

"You're back." He grumbled, half asleep.

"Mmhm. Go back to sleep." I whispered, setting a glass of water on the table next to him then walking to the room, shutting the door.

******

I woke up the next morning to Billy shaking my arm. "Hey...Um I'm sorry about last night."

"I only accept apologies from assholes when there are pancakes involved." I grumbled, pulling the covers over my head.

"Sam..." Billy whined. I felt the bed shift as he sat next to me, resting his hand in the curve of my waist,

"Go away." I objected, kicking at his butt and wiggling out from under his touch.

A small chuckle left Billy's lips as he moved the covers from my head, "I really can't take you seriously when you're mad." He laughed.

I glared at him,

"You're a jerk. Get me pancakes and then we'll talk."

"Get up and get dressed. I'll take you to the best pancake place in town."

I wandered out of my room, passing Billy who was sitting on the counter with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Are you really not going to talk to me until I feed you?" Billy asked as he followed me into the elevator. I glared over at him angrily, not breaking our eye contact, pressing the button that would take us to the lobby.

"Sammie..."

I crossed my arms, examining the tiles of the elevator floor.

"I know.. I'm an ass okay? I'm sorry for what I said, you're nothing like Steve and it's a goddamn shame that nobody in that shit stain of a town doesn't see you as Samantha. You're crazy and quote Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein as a means to fight. You always know what to say and the right time to say it. I didn't mean anything I said last night."

My head still faced the opposite from where Billy was standing. I uncrossed my arms, reaching down grabbing Billy's hand.

"You're still an asshole" I asserted,

I could feel him relax underneath my touch. I glanced over at him, he was staring at me, cigarette still hanging from his mouth.

"Bad habit." I jeered, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and replacing it with a lollipop I found on the floor of the elevator.

Billy took the lollipop out of his mouth, dropping it to the floor gagging. "Gross!" "Still better than the cancer stick." I retorted, crossing my arms again and staring him down.

"You're an asshole." I repeated, skipping out of the elevator and outside to our car.

"These are some of the best pancakes you will ever have." Billy hummed as he started the car, heading in the direction of the diner he was taking us to.

He was right. They were some of the best pancakes I had ever had.

"So are you going to talk to me now?" Billy questioned, reaching for my hand and interlocking our fingers.

"I told you I would once you fed me." I quipped, pushing my plate away with my free hand.

"I'm truly sorry about last night Sam. I shouldn't have forced you to go to the party and expect you to want to stick around. And I'm really, really sorry for comparing you to Steve. You're not like him at all."

I squeezed his hand, peering up at him.

"You're an asshole. But, I forgive you."

******

Billy and I sat in comfortable silence on the car ride home from the airport. I couldn't help but have this feeling that once we got home and went our separate ways that Billy would go back to his friends and I'd go back to my flowers. Despite him profusely apologizing over our fight on the beach, I feared that he would go back to being his asshole self and only talk to me when he needed notes- maybe even to get under Steve's skin by being around me.

I pushed my feet up in the dash as Billy silently hummed to himself, tapping on the steering wheel.

"What's going to happen on Monday?" I questioned, peering over at him, "The past few days have been...amazing to say the least but once school starts back, are we going back to Billy Hargrove the king of Hawkins and The Other Harrington."

I started to nervously fidget with the ring Billy had given me, twisting it around my finger.

Billy reached over, grabbing my hand and squeezing it "When school starts back on Monday, I'll be Billy and you will be Samantha. I know im an ass, but I won't pretend this trip didn't happen, that I don't love you."

I turned my head at him in surprise over the fact that he just admitted that he loved me.

"Sammie, you make me less pissed. Not... not pissed, but I feel like I use to before I lost my mom."

"I saved that flower crown you gave me. It's in a box under my bed next to a flower crown she made for me on my fifteenth birthday."

Billy brought the back side of my hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on it.

"You promise?" I asked hesitantly. He sighed, pulling over on the side of the road.

"Sam, I'm not sure if you heard me the first time, but I'm in love with you. You somehow talked me into getting a haircut,-"

"You lost a bet and those were the stipulations." I corrected, earning an eye roll from him.

"I cut my hair for you, and I opened up to you about my father. And told you about the only other person that I knew that was as kind and loving as you are. It was a no brainer that I would fall in love with you. I just didn't expect it to happen as fast as it did."

I leaned over, kissing his cheek,

"You are an asshole with I really nice hair cut. I love you too, Billy Hargrove." I reached over, turning the volume up as the guitar riff to Highway to Hell blasted through the cars speakers. I started dancing along to the beat beckoning Billy to get out of Priscilla and join me on the side of the road.

Billy laughed, getting out grabbing me by my waist as we started dancing together. We danced and twirled around to the music, singing along to the words together.

Billy placed his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer to him as his other hand snaked behind my neck, bringing my lips to his.

"So, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go get dinner later? But not like friend dinner...uh like a date? And you be my girlfriend." He babbled.

I chuckled, kissing his nose,

"You're cute when you're nervous. Hasn't this week been one long date?" I questioned, intertwining my fingers with his.

Billy leaned in, his head resting it on mine. "I don't want to go home." He confessed, opening his eyes looking down at me.

"We have to go back to reality. And when graduation comes around, we'll pick back up where we left off, travel the world together forget about Indiana."

I twirled around Billy's fingers before wrapping my arms around his neck.

"So now I'm included in this adventure?"

"You are my husband, you kinda have to go with me." I retorted, resting my head on his shoulder as the song slowly came to an end.

Billy wrapped his arms tighter around me, placing a kiss on top of my head.

"Back to reality."

I pulled up in front of the Hargrove household, glancing over at Billy who was almost as pale as a ghost. "I'm going in there with you."

"No you're not. Sammie you are safe out here."

"But you aren't safe in there." I retorted, getting out of my car.

"He won't do anything to you in front of a stranger." I added, reaching down for his hand. We walked into his house to find what looked to be his father and brother sitting on the couch watching whatever game was playing on the television.

Both men drew their attention to the door. Billy's father glared at both of us his arms crossing over one another.

"Where the hell have you been?" He snarled, standing up from his recliner.

"Uh...um," Billy sputtered.

I squeezed his hand trying to give him reassurance as Neil turned his focus from his son to me.

"You were off doing God knows what with this whore weren't you?!" Neil boomed, not breaking eye contact with me.

"Um.. uh."

"That's not an answer, Billy."

I groaned,

"Yes, Mr. Hargrove he was with me. We went to my parents country club and then flew to California for a few days. It was a lot of fun. I found a lot of pretty shells. I see where Billy gets being an asshole from." I exclaimed as Billy's hand tightened against mine.

"I want you out of my house!" Neil howled, taking a step toward Billy and I. Billy instinctively took a step in front of me.

"You want me out? Fine."

Billy pushed past Neil, heading the direction of his bedroom, me following behind. He grabbed the remainder of his clothes from his closet, stuffing it in trash bags. I reached under his bed, grabbing a shoebox with his mother's name scribbled across it

"Can't forget your flower crowns." I whispered, sitting the box on the bed, helping Billy grab all of his belongings.

"You have nowhere to go." Neil laughed, standing in the doorway and crossing his arms.

"My house is big. He can live with me." I retorted, stepping in front of Neil, blocking his view of Billy the best I could.

"And your parents are going to be okay with that?" Neil challenged.

"I don't think it's any of your business how my parents react to Billy coming to stay with me."

Billy walked over to me with the trashbags full of his belongings.

"He isn't your concern anymore. You can fuck off." I spat, reaching back for Billy's wrist and bumping my shoulder into Neill as we walked in the the hallway.

"You'll be back after this slut gets tired of you." Neil yelled following after us. I stopped turning to face him.

"I can assure you, that I won't get tired of him. We got married when we were in Cali." I chortled, flashing my left hand up at him.

"Like I said, Billy isn't your concern anymore." I lifted my middle finger up at Neil as Billy pulled me out of the house and out to the car.

******

"Steve isn't going to be happy," I mumbled, pulling into my driveway.

Billy let out a small laugh, leaning over kissing my cheek. I faced him with a stern expression,

"Please be nice. I'll handle all the talking." I stressed, squeezing his hand. I placed a quick kiss on his lips before stepping out of Priscilla

"Where the fuck have you been, Samantha?" Steve gripped, walking out of our house and crossing his arms.

Billy slowly got out of Priscilla, walking around to stand behind me.

"Let me rephrase that, where the fuck have you been with Billy Hargrove." Steve seethed.

"California." I stated as a matter of factly.

"California!?" Steve blurted, his jaw dropping, "What did you do to her, Hargrove, kidnap her?!"

"He's my friend...boy," I said as Billy intertwined our fingers, "Err my boyfriend."

"Since when?"

"Since this morning."

"Sam, you don't socialize you go to school and come home."

I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth to say something only to be cut off by Steve,

"How do you two even know each other? God Samantha, leave it up to you to become friends with the biggest asshole in school. Do you even remember what happened to me in October?"

Billy stood between us placing a hand on Steve's chest. Steve quickly stepped away from Billy's touch, "Man, I know we have our issues. And I'm sorry for everything I've done to you." He began.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow and shifting his weight onto his heels, "But I actually give a shit about Sammie. And nobody appreciates her damn near as much as she deserves." Billy mused, glancing down at me.

"Stop acting like you care, Steve." I grumbled under my breath.

"You're my baby sister, of course I care."

"Really? Do you even care enough to know that most of your friends don't even know my name?" I fired back.

"What're you talking about?"

"In fact, most people don't even know my name. Not just your friends. And you know who did? Billy. You know who came and talked to me without prefacing it with 'can you tell Steve'? Billy." I defended, "He actually talks to me like I'm a real person and not just a means to get to you."

"Are you sure that isn't what this is? A means to get to me?"

"Is it really that hard for you to believe that somebody cares about me?"

"I find it hard to believe that Billy Hargrove cares about you."

Billy dropped my hand from his grasp, balling up his fist. I stepped ahead of him, blocking his path if he decided to make a move.

"Somebody has to! Mom and dad sure don't. And you're too busy running off with a bunch of middle schoolers who you call your siblings to pay attention to your actual younger sister!"

"Sam, this isn't about mom or dad or me or them!"

"Bullshit it isn't!" I snapped, "My entire fucking life I've been walking around in your shadow and I'm goddamn sick of it!"

"How many times have I told you that people don't know my name? How many times have I said that kids I've known my whole life, gone through kindergarten with, don't know my name? All I am is Little Harrington or The Other Harrington. I'm not Samantha. I'm not my own fucking person. And that's on you, Steve!"

"How is it on me that you don't do anything to get attention?"

I could faintly hear a rumble in Billy's chest,

"Because you've never taken me seriously! Never stood up for me when I needed you to. Steve, I needed you to be my big brother and protect me and you didn't!"

Steve opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but I cut him off,

"Go take care of the rest of your 'little siblings' hope you don't let them down like you did to me." I snarled.

Billy went back over to Priscilla, grabbing my bag from the car and following behind me.

"I don't think so. You are not going into my house." Steve said, grabbing his arm.

"Fuck you, Steve." I spat as Billy yanked his arm from my brother's grasp.

They squared up with each other, chest to chest. Neither of them particularly wanted to get into a fight, especially not in front of me. I intertwined my fingers with Billy's and took him inside with me.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Dustin asked as the other kids stood up in defense.

"Ask your older brother, he seems to be pretty open with you guys." I sneered, pulling Billy up to my room.

I shut the door behind us, leaning back on it and letting myself cry.

"Hey, hey, hey, baby, no." Billy comforted, pressing his forehead to mine. "No crying." He cupped my face in his hands, making me look at him

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

I smiled softly at him as he kissed me,

"Normal people don't quote Dr. Seuss." I sassed, wiping my face with the back side of my hand.

"Well, as it turns out, I'm not as normal as you think."

******

Monday I could feel every single eye on me. The worst part of living in a small town was word got around fast.

"Christy, is it true you and Billy Hargrove robbed a bank over spring break?"

I rolled my eyes as I shut my locker door,

"No, it's not true." I grunted, walking past Carol and into Chemistry. A smile spread across Billy's face as I walked down the row of desks and took my usual seat at the one in front of him. He leaned forward in his desk, pressing a kiss to my cheek,

"I missed you," He whispered, placing another kiss on my shoulder.

"Two whole periods without me, how did you live!?" I exclaimed,

"It's not like you didn't just move in with me." I joked, leaning my head back so it was laying on his desk.

Billy chuckled, leaning forward connecting our lips together, earning various grunts and sighs from some of the girls in our class room.

By lunch people were well aware of Billy's status. People know knew who I was and who I was dating. But they still intentionally called me some random name.

Most of them probably figured that it got under my skin, so why would they stop?

"Sammie, are you okay?" Billy asked as we walked into the lunchroom together.

"Yeah, I'm just not used to being this...well known. And people are now purposely calling me different names." I sighed as I grabbed a juice and a banana in the lunch line.

"Mr. Hargrove, your new haircut looks wonderful!" Edna, the lunch lady chirped.

"Doesn't it?" I questioned, running my hand in his hair.

Billy rolled his eyes, swatting my hand away before paying for both of our lunches.

"Oh! Miss Hayley! Will you please tell Steve he still owes us money from before spring break."

I grinned at her, knowing that she didn't mean any harm by calling me the wrong name, unlike the rest of the school.

"Sure thing, Edna."

I followed behind Billy as we both sat at the lunch table with Tommy H. and Carol.

"Nicole are you lost?" Tommy H grimaced as I sat next to Billy. "No, I'm not." I mumbled. "Then why are you sitting here? Last I checked you weren't popular." Carol snorted.

The walked on Billy's face made me think he was about to kill everyone around him.

"Knock it off both of you. Samantha is my girlfriend." Billy chided.

"Ew, why would you want to date Kayla?" Tommy sneered, giving me a disgusted look "You know she's Steve's sister, right?"

In a flash Billy flew across the table, throwing his fist into Tommy's face. He then climbed on the table, placing his pinkies in his mouth and whistling.

"Just so we are all on the same page, This girl has a name, and It's Samantha. She's my girlfriend...Samantha Harrington is my girlfriend. If I hear anyone call her The Other Harrington or anything that is not Sam, or Samantha, one more time, you will really be wishing you didn't." He threatened, "Now what is my girlfriends name?"

In unison, the entire lunchroom sang out my name. I could feel my cheeks grow warm. I knew for a fact I was as red as a tomato.

"And if any of you mess with her? You'll deal with me," He yelled as one of the coaches marched over, pulling Billy off the table and escorting him out of the cafeteria.

I cleared my throat, poking at my plate as Tommy climbed back back up to the table, holding his bleeding nose.

"The chicken is really good today isn't it?"

******

The week was long and uneventful, and by Friday not only did everyone- including teachers knew my name, they also came up to me apologizing- something I'm sure was Billy's doing.

I didn't hate this new found fame but I didn't love it either. Billy made an ass out of himself at lunch, landing him a weeks worth of detention. So every day I would go sit in the field, making 2 floral crowns while I waited for Billy to get out of his detainment.

"How was detention?" I asked as Billy plopped down on the blanket next to me ,taking my floral crown from my head and placing it on his own.

"To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world." Billy sang, kissing my cheek.

"Quoting Dr. Seuss again are we?" I sassed.

"I love you," He uttered as a dragonfly flew by landing on my nose.

I chuckled, shaking my head startling the bug away.

"Looks like your mom loves me too."

Billy smirked, pressing his lips onto mine before stretching out onto the blanket, placing his head on my lap, staring up at me with the utmost adoration.

It didn't matter anymore to me that people got my name wrong, or how I would become a distant memory after graduation,

The soft boy with a hard exterior had the free spirited girl with a love for wildflowers.

We had each other, we made each other shine.

And that's all that matters.

521 notes · View notes

nessamaurice · 4 years

Text

Simple Ch. 1 (Loki x F!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary: Tony and the Avengers are in desperate need of something like a “babysitter” to have an eye on Loki and teach him “how to human”. He decided to stay on Midgard over the dungeons of Asgard as punishment for his deeds in New York. That’s where you swoop in. A simple receptionist at the Avengers compound. You have to share an apartment in the compound with Loki and damn, he’s a really tough nut. With your open and kind character it seems that you are slowly cracking his shell. But suddenly things are getting twists that will change your life and your relationships there irreversibly.

Story rating: M

Chapter trigger warnings: n/a

Words: 1984

"We need someone totally random." Tony broke the silence in the room. Every gaze was on him now. "Not someone with any special training, crazy gifts or hyper specialized knowledge."

"Why?" Steve simply asked.

"Your brother", Tony said turning to Thor and pointing at him, "has an enormous ego. If he has to stay here, we got to get him... let's say humbled. He will stay here in the compound. He is even willing to cooperate, so I guess we won't need shackles. At least not all the time. We just need someone reliable staying in the same room with him. Like, a babysitter. Someone simple, responsible from the neighbourhood who you would trust to look after your children because you know she'll just tuck them into bed asap and spend a nice evening watching Netflix or reading books while eating chips."

"You think it should be a woman?" Natasha mentioned.

"Did I say she? Ah yes, I did. Probably because when I think of next-door-babysitters I automatically think of girls. Women. Sorry." Tony immediately corrected himself as he noticed the raised eyebrow of Natasha.

"Couldn't it be that he would try to... I don't know... something like to trick a woman to do what he wants? Is he... um..." Bruce struggled to speak his mind.

"You mean like a seducer to women?" Thor assumed, followed by an amused little laugh. "No do not worry about that matter. I have known him my whole life and playing such games with women was never in his interest, even if it would have been useful to his plans. And I would say a woman would be best, he mostly behaves more controlled and civilized towards women in charge than to men."

"Alrighty then!" Tony clapped his hands to end this meeting that almost seemed like it would never end. With everybody feeling relieved to have come to a solution, the tension in the room ebbed away.

"Barton", Tony addressed to the agent in the corner of the room, "We need someone trustworthy. A woman. Someone staying away from drama. A at least somehow balanced one. And she will have to move to the compound for quite a while, so sort out every woman having responsibilities at home or such. The best would be someone who already works for me, check all our employees first, maybe we are lucky."

Clint simply nodded and left the room, but not without grabbing a big mug of coffee on the leave. Everyone headed to the door, but Thor caught Tony by grabbing his arm and stopping him. He waited a second until all the other Avengers were gone.

"Thank you, Stark. It is very generous and honorable of you and of Midgard to offer my errant brother a second chance after all what he did to your realm. There is clearly good in him. Buried under mischief and lies but somewhere it is. Maybe a simple person is all he needs to learn that 'simple' is nothing bad. It is hard for him to deal with his banishment from his home but it was his own choice and he preferred this over the dungeons of our palace. It took him quite a while to make this decision."

"Yeah. It's okay. No one likes to have a pissed-off brother being kept in the basement." Tony said, patting Thor on the shoulder while leaving the room.

***

With one hand you fumbled for your alarm clock to put in on snooze while hiding under the blanket. Sleep drunk you tried to get your brain working as a little wave of panic shot through you. Turning over to your clock you silently cursed into your pillow and pushed yourself up. You already wanted to get up 10 minutes ago but pressed snooze once too often. Again. You speeded up your morning routine a little to catch the lost minutes you sacrificed to Morpheus.

"This day's gonna be crap." You mumbled to yourself while entering the compound and shuffling over to the reception.

"Sweets, turn your bitch face off, you're at work."

The voice of your coworker Jackie (but you'd rather address her as your best friend than coworker) ripped you out of your thoughts.

"Hey Babe. Sorry." You gave her your poorest apology smile.

"Pressed snooze too often again, huh?" She tried to hold back a broad smile while you walked around the giant reception desk, heavy eye-rolling.

"Shut up. Tea's ready?"

"Do we know us since yesterday?" She pouty answered, handing you your favorite mug. You snatched it almost too energetically from her hand, inhaling the steam rising from it and closing your eyes.

"Aw, yeah. Much better." You put it on the desk and went to the back to hang your coat. Walking by you caught your own glance in the mirror, stopped and returned to it to check your appearance. You fixed some loose strands of hair and spotted your septum piercing. Cursing at yourself that you forgot to take it out once again you turned it up into your nose to hide it. If you'd take it out right now you would just lose it, like the other 4 piercings before. Pulling on the collar of your shirt and fiddling on your chocker necklace you quickly checked yourself over again and stepped outside to the reception desk. You were so lucky that you and your colleagues came to the glorious arrangement that you were in charge of the visit-reservation-referring-emails and wouldn't have to answer phone calls. Every time you heard the melodic ringing it sent a little jolt through your guts but were relieved the same moment, knowing that it was not your task to answer it. You never knew why phone calls put you in such a state but you didn't really bother to find out. You went to sit down on your office chair, totally focused on your steaming mug that stood there longing for your cold hands to get warmed up by its heat but stopped mid-motion and turned your head to the left. Your eyes wandered the spacious entrance hall. Since there were still 10 minutes before the Avengers compound opened up to visitors, press and business the only light was the natural dim dawn falling in through the huge window front. You almost jumped a little as the lighting was turned on, as always on time.

"Everything alright, Sweet Pea?" Your friend appeared from behind you, making you jump a little again.

"What? Oh yeah. Sorry. I thought there was something. Getting a little paranoid after a week of holiday at home." You laughed at her. As you finally sat down you couldn't resist to look over your shoulder again and search the enormous hall. It wasn't helpful that you had that feeling of being watched since almost 3 weeks now. At first you didn't take it very serious. Your workplace was permanently full of people and CCTV. But the feeling deep down in your stomach grew bigger each day. In the end you were so happy to eventually have a week all on your own. You spent it most of the time at home, doing all the things you wanted to do for a long time. You took some art classes in portraying persons, read 2 books, listened to music constantly, ordered too much stuff from Amazon because you had so much time browsing stuff you didn't need, even could get yourself to take some walks in the nearby park and enjoy the autumn colours. But, much to your dismay, that feeling of being followed by something or someone didn't cease. You spoke to your therapist at your monthly meeting about this last week. She said not to take it too serious but that you'll come back to that point next month.

You softly shook your head to get rid of the thoughts and put your bag on the floor beneath your desk with a loud thud. Jackie turned her head and looked at you, then at your bag.

"What the hell is in there? Thor's hammer?"

You tried to bat her hand away as she grabbed your bag and opened it. Her gaze rose in played shock to meet your eyes. She pulled a giant book out of it without interrupting her steady look at you. You couldn't help but blush, roll your eyes and laugh.

"Oh. My. God. Didn't they have a bigger book than this? Why are you dragging this monster with you to work?" She looked at the title and stuttered a little while reading it out loud, a little too loud since your other colleagues turned their heads, poorly hiding their smiles.

"Antiquitates Iudaicae" She looked at you again, one brow raised. "Seriously?"

You couldn't hold back your snort at that look on her face. Hectically you nabbed your stuff from her hands. "Shut up bitch, that's for my lunch break."

Unfortunately that explanation didn't help much to stop her amusement because now she helplessly had to cover her mouth while she laughed into her hands.

"Damn girl, you crazy."

"I know. You love that."

"Of course I do. Borrow me that book when you're through. And if I lost my sight by that time, you can read it to me when your granny glasses will be strong enough."

Smiling you turned to your computer and turned it on. It was about time, your small interruption cost you precious minutes to start your working routine before the doors opened to all the amazed visitors, screaming school groups and snoopy press people.

While waiting for your computer to come to live (which took quite longer than you'd expect when working for a technology genius), Jackie slapped your shoulder.

"Oh I totally forgot to fill you in on the latest gossip. When you were on holiday, a cute guy from accounting sat down next to me during lunch and asked where you are."

"Whaaaat? You're kidding."

"Nah-ah! He said he wanted to say hi to you after he saw you several times in the cafeteria and thought you would show up just a little later. He feared you may have just chucked your job after two more days without seeing you. I tell you, he has the bluest eyes I've ever seen. If I were unwed, I'd totally be jealous. I promised not to tell you. Ha ha. As if I would not tell you."

"Aw come on. Now I will never be able to relax during lunch time again." You batted her arm with the back of your hand.

"Oh Sweets, you're much too old to be nervous around men."

"Uhm, you know who you talking to, right?"

Her only answer was just a vicious smile as she turned to the already ringing phone.

The morning went on as usual. Tons of emails, greeting visitors and groups, handing forms over the counter, smiling, tea drinking.

Your stomach began to rumble just as your break was due. You checked yourself in the mirror again, this time a bit more precisely. As usual, you weren't too pleased with what you saw. Catching that thought, you very silently said to yourself "But I love myself anyway" just as your therapist taught you. You hoped that one day you'd eventually believe your own words, but somehow they helped you relax a bit, though. You stretched your back, grabbed your stuff and headed to the cafeteria. As you saw its entrance, you felt blood rushing to your cheeks and cursed yourself for blushing so easily. But before you could step through the door, someone stopped you by softly grabbing your arm.

You turned around to say something but no sound left your open mouth as you looked up into the face of Clint Barton.

"Miss Y/N, I'm sorry to stop you from getting your lunch, but Mr. Stark would like to speak to you."

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #fanfiction #loki fiction #marvel fan fiction #marvel #slow burn #loki slow burn #fanfic simple

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silentglassbreak · 4 years

Note

Waddup I wanna fuel your harringrove addition w a prompt. Can you do No. 9 the "I've seen you in my dreams" but have it be a nightmare and the one having the nightmares always thought the other was the evil behind his dreams, but then he discovers hes meant to help stop the nightmares.? Idk if that made sense but I'll love anything you write. 🤗

OMG OMG IM EXCITED.

9. “I’ve been dreaming of you, every day, for as long as I can remember.”

Dream of Me

Billy was still dreaming. He knew he was. He looked down at his hands to see he was missing a finger on one hand, as if he never had one to begin with. As disconcerting as it was, he was able to breathe a sigh of relief. Knowing he was dreaming made his spine relax just enough for him to find his nerve.

He stepped through the threshold of his bedroom door, eyes shifting down the dark hallway. The silence made his hair stand on end, forcing him to swallow so hard over the lump in his throat. He just had to make it outside, to the light of day, to freedom. Maybe he would this time.

His thoughts were interrupted by a force, slamming against his right cheekbone, throwing him off balance and landing on his ass inside the bedroom.

“Where the fuck you think you’re going, boy?” Billy cradled his face, eyes already stinging out of instinct. He pressed them shut tight, doing his best to force his subconscious to just cut him a fucking break. He was tired of this dream, this fucking nightmare. He was tired of the same song and dance he dealt with every time he closed his eyes.

As always, Neil stood over him, eyes red and piercing into him. Billy could almost feel how sharp the words rolling off his tongue were.

“Always knew you were a faggot, William.” A hot glob of spit hit Billy’s face, causing him to flinch hard. “You never could do one fucking thing right.”

Another fist landed, this time against his left eye socket, making him think his eye may actually pop out of his skull. The blow had him laying on his back, stars swirling around his vision. His head lulled to the side, blood rolling down his upper lip, when he caught sight of it.

It was always just there. Mocking him. The wooden bat, bare handle, a slew of nails coming out of the end covered in some kind of dried blood. It was always there, had always been there. It perched under his bed, just out of his reach. He wanted to grab it. Wanted to swing it on Neil and end this fucking dream, but he never could. His hands were too heavy in this place. It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

The blows kept coming, one after another after another, until he was lying back and just taking them. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. In his real life, Neil had never beat him quite this badly, never wanting the bruises to be too obvious. But in this dream, he didn't intend to let Billy leave; intended to end him one punch at a time.

Billy’s arms finally started to move, reaching for the bat. His fingers came within centimeters of the wood.

Billy’s eyes popped open, chest rising and falling like it did every morning. He shrugged off the feeling, same as always. Although his heart rate was elevated, the adrenaline was wearing off fast. He was used to the dreams now. Since he was a boy, the nightmares about Neil finding out he was gay haunted him.

Billy was very good at hiding it in his daily life, always keeping a girl around, bringing her to dinner sometimes. The facade was believable to everyone around him, and he took pride in that. Steve didn’t even mind his flashy behavior, knowing full well that Billy was his and always would be.

Their relationship was so easy, and Steve was so understanding of his fears. They didn’t even speak outside of their private, intimate moments, keeping the illusion alive. He really couldn't have asked for anyone better to love him, so he cherished Steve in every way he knew how.

Billy pulled himself out of bed, sweat still clinging to the back of his neck. He pulled on his clothes in the dim light of his bedroom, readying himself for the day. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he made his way out into the hall, moving to Max’s door and giving a short rap on it.

Voice hushed, he asked, “Max, you ready?” He could hear shuffling on the other side.

“Yeah, just putting my shoes on.”

The ride to the schools were mostly silent, no music pumping through the speakers. Billy’s left arm was hanging out of the window nonchalantly, cigarette balancing between two fingers. He was slumped down in the seat, lazily trailing through back roads.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Billy rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, sighing.

“How’d you know?” She chewed on her lower lip, side-eyeing him.

“I heard you talking. Sounded like you were crying.” He flicked his cigarette and rolled his window up, sitting up straighter.

“Is what it is.” She turned her head to look at him now. Her voice was small, so quiet.

“Are you going to Steve’s today?” His head whipped around to look straight at her, neck cracking in response. The look on his face made her shrink down in her seat.

“What?” Her expression hardened, in no mood for his attitude apparently.

“Fucking please, Billy. Don’t act like I don’t know about you two.” He was genuinely confused. He had kept his secret so well, he thought.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He was working hard to keep his voice aggressive, but he was faltering, fear seeping into his soul. She scoffed and sat back, looking out the windshield.

“Whatever, play dumb. I don’t care. I just need to know if you’re picking me up or if I need to cover for your ass. Again.” His jaw was hanging, his head briefly checking the road. His mind was soaring, a burning sensation crawling from the base of his skull down to his tailbone.

“How do you know?” She smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Billy, you’re sneaky, but you’re not that sneaky.” She looked down and began picking at her fingers. “Neil has no idea.”

Billy let out a long exhale he didn’t realize he was holding. The air in his lungs felt like nails going down.

“Better fucking not find out either.”

“I’m not going to tell.” He scowled out the windshield.

“In exchange for what?” Her eyebrows lifted, shocked at the question. She shook her head.

“I don’t want anything Billy.” He rolled his head toward her, disbelieving. “Man, I’ve known for months. I haven’t told anyone yet, why would I start blackmailing you now?” He pursed his lips, considering.

All the nights he had fallen asleep at Steve’s and not realized until daybreak. Every time he skipped school to go to the quarry with him, forgetting to pick her up from school. She covered, every time, and they never talked about why.

“Thanks, shitbird.” She smiled.

“Whatever.”

The car went quiet again, almost to Hawkins Middle School, where they would part ways. When he pulled into the parking space, she didn’t immediately get out, hand resting on the door.

“Hey, Billy?” He didn’t respond, just jerked his head to acknowledge her. “You should tell Steve about the nightmares. He can probably help.” He pulled off his sunglasses, eyes glaring at her. She threw her hands up defensively, not saying another word and exiting the vehicle. He watched her bounce up the sidewalk toward the Party, joining them easily.

Steve’s lips were hot against Billy’s, slow kisses smothering him in the best way. His body molded under the brunette, hand slowly brushing through his hair. They both laid on the bed, only boxers on, making out in a lazy way until they were breathless. The darkness of night had fallen over Hawkins, leaving Billy and Steve alone for the night.

It was a Friday night, which meant Billy would be calling home shortly, to let them know he wouldn’t be home until the next day. Maybe. If Steve would ever let him leave. His eyes were closed, breathing in Steve’s air, other hand pulling at his leg to hook his thigh over his own hip.

Steve pulled back first, looking at Billy with a sort of warmth in his eyes. His smile was tired.

“Again? We just finished.” Billy returned it with a devilish grin, all teeth.

“Never enough of you, pretty boy.” Steve chuckled and leaned back, away from Billy.

“I’m tired.” Steve was being whiny, and it made Billy only want him that much more.

“That sucks. Cause I’m not done with you.” Steve curled up, snuggling his face into Billy’s neck. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Steve, pulling his as close as he could.

“Let me just have, like, ten minutes.” Billy’s body shook with silent laughter.

“Goodnight Princess.” He held Steve there, feeling his breathing even out. He knew he would wake up around two, as he usually did, and beg Billy to cook him some eggs or macaroni and cheese. This was their routine. Billy didn’t mean to fall asleep, but Steve was so warm. So familiar. It didn’t take long before his eyes were fluttering closed.

The room was completely black, no walls or floor, no doors, nothing. All that was around was the usual inch of water on the floor like there always was. He turned his head from side to side, trying to make out where he was. He looked down at his hands, all ten fingers firmly in place. This confused him. He had to be dreaming if he was in this place?

Then he heard it, the roaring voice of his Dad echoing through nothingness. The problem was, he couldn’t see him. He spun around anxiously, an entirely new wave of horror washing over him.

“Billy-boy.” His dad’s voice sang. His eyes were blown out, straining to see in the darkness.

“Dad?” But then he was on the ground, nose bleeding. his hand came up to touch it, shying away at the searing pain and crunch of the cartilage. His head began pounding.

Billy tried to lift himself up before a sharp pin hit his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He gasped, trying to hold his side.

“You think you can hide from me, son?” Another kick from a foot that wasn’t there. “You’re such a fucking pussy, William.” Kick. “And you don’t fucking deserve this life I’ve given you.” Kick. “So you don’t get to run.” Kick.

Billy was struggling to breathe, choking and spitting. He still couldn’t see anything. He glanced around frantically, looking for the bat. Where was it? It was always there. But this time it wasn’t. He was alone, he was all alone.

He heard another voice, which sounded like it was at least one hundred yards away.

“Billy?” It was Steve. He was coming. And Neil would kill him. Neil would kill them both.

“Steve!” He screamed, his voice hoarse. “Don’t!” He felt a hand wrap around his throat, pinning him to the wet floor. He squirmed, clawing at nothingness over him, gasping as hard as he could.

“Billy!” Steve was getting closer, and Billy was stuck. He kicked his legs and shook his body in an attempt to free himself, but failed.

“Billy, wake up!”

His body shot up, hands flailing in front of him, making contact with skin. He looked over, seeing Steve’s hands still trying to steady him.

“Billy! It’s okay! You were having a bad dream.” Steve looked absolutely wrecked, hair a mess and staring wildly at Billy, absolutely terrified. It took him a moment to right himself, realizing he was fine. His nose wasn’t broken, he wasn’t choking, and Steve was safe.

Billy tucked his knees up, burying his face in his arms and sobbing. It was too real. It didn’t feel like a dream. Steve’s arms wrapped around him, shushing in his ear.

“S’okay babe. I’m here.” Billy felt like he couldn’t breathe. “What were you dreaming about?”

Billy took a minute to steady his breathing, lifting his head to look at Steve.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t like my other dreams.” He had never told Steve about his nightmares, never having any while in the safety of the Harrington house before. The thought infuriated him. He didn’t have nightmares with Steve. Steve was his safe place.

“What made it different?” Billy was scowling at the comforter, the anger burning hot in his veins.

“The bat. I didn’t have the stupid fucking bat.” Steve raised an eyebrow in apprehension?

“A bat? Like, the animal?” Billy snorted, shaking his head.

“No, a baseball bat.” He wiped his face and shrugged. “It’s always there. I can never grab the fucking thing, but it helps me remember I’m dreaming.” Steve nodded, understanding.

“So, you didn’t know you were dreaming?”

“I kind of figured, but it felt so real.” Steve gave him a small smile.

“I’m sorry, Billy. But hey,” Steve leaned back on the bed, arm reaching down toward the floor. “you can borrow mine if you want. It's pretty deadly.”

His hand came up, and Billy went white. There was a long handled bat in his hands, old and darkened with something that looked like blood. On the head of the bat, at least ten nails stuck out, bent and rusted. His heart fell about twenty stories.

The bat was identical to the one from his dreams, and something inside of Billy told him it was the bat from his dreams. It was always there, untouchable. He felt like he may fall over, the stunning realization knocking him completely off kilter.

The look on Billy’s face and him failing to respond sent Steve into a flurry of explanation, ears turning pink. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a bit much for home protection. But, I mean, you never know when shit’s going to go do-“

“Where did you get that?” His eyes were still bugging out, fixed on the wood in Steve’s hands.

“Oh,” Steve lifted it gently, offering it to Billy. “It was Nancy’s. I guess I kind of stole it from her about a year ago.” Billy picked it up, examining every splinter and nail.

“Why?” He looked up at Steve from under his lashes. “Why do you have it?” Steve chewed on his lip.

“It’s a really long story.” He scratched the back of his head. Billy couldn’t help but crack a smile, moving the bat back to the floor behind Steve.

His arms gently pulled around his boyfriend, pulling him close. His eyes welled with tears again, struggling to hold himself together.

The realization was dawning on him. When he was dreaming, Steve was there. When he was hurting, bleeding, dying, Steve was there. He had always been. Before they met, when Billy was a boy, Steve was there. Protecting him. Reminding him, there’s a way out. There’s a solution just out of reach, and still safe. Steve was his protection. His safe space.

“Billy? What’s wrong?” Steve pulled back to look at him. Billy couldn’t help but break out into a cackle, shaking his head.

“Harrington, you son of a bitch.” Steve’s eyebrows raised, a pout playing on his lips.

“The fuck?” Billy sat back on his ass, laughter turning hysterical.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just so fucking nuts!” Steve clearly wasn’t following. His face told Billy he was confused, and slightly off-put somehow. It made Billy sober enough to look at him with a fond smile.

“Steve,” He looked up at the ceiling, still forcing his laughter down. “You’re probably not going to believe me.”

Growing impatient, Steve snapped. “What the fuck won’t I believe, Billy?” It made Billy stop laughing and realize he needed to explain himself. He cleared his throat and looked right at Steve, working to form the words. He felt embarrassment, but he pushed passed it.

Billy finally looked directly at Steve.

“Harrington, I’ve been dreaming of you, every day, for as long as I can remember.” Steve’s eyes were hyper-focused on Billy, staring in disbelief. This was what Billy needed to say?

“Come again?” Billy shrugged and turned his entire body to the brunette.

“Look,”

He began explaining his nightmares. All of them. From when he was ten and realized he was gay, to the night before when he was home in bed. He explained that they always had the same plot line; his Dad found out he was gay and was going to beat him to death for it. That he wanted to fight back, and there was the bat.

He told Steve that the bat had always been there, looking the same as Steve’s, perched somewhere only a fraction of an inch out of his reach. How he was always so close to reaching it before he woke up.

Billy told Steve that he was certain that was why he always woke up. It was Steve who was waking him up. Steve who was watching over him, never letting his Dad take it too far. He told Steve he understood now that the bat wasn’t there to mock him, but to save him and end the dream.

Steve’s expression was crumbling, flashing between confusion and understanding.

“So...now you know l, I guess.”

And then Steve was laughing, completely out of control. He fell onto his side on the bed and his laugh echoed through the room.

“That’s…” He was struggling to speak between breaths. “So…” He had tears from laughing so hard. “Fucking…” Billy was getting a little offended. “Crazy!”

A strike of something that resembled rejection and shame hit Billy all at once. Steve called him crazy, and that’s just fucked up. He slapped the skin on Steve’s shoulder hard.

“Fuck off! I’m not crazy!” Steve waved a hand at him, still chuckling.

“You’re not crazy. The fact that you’ve been dreaming about my fucking baseball bat is crazy.” He sat up on his elbow and smiled up at Billy. “This last year has been the most psychotic, fucking mental year of my life, and what you just said? It’s crazy. But I’ve definitely heard crazier. You don’t even know the half of it.” Billy quirked a small smile.

“I don’t?” Steve shook his head, coughing out the rest of his giggles.

“It’s a long story.” Steve was smirking, eyeing Billy. “I could tell you,” He let his voice fall low. “over some eggs.”

#harringrove #steveharrington #billyhargrove #strangerthings #ff #fanfic #fic request #prompt request

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xfilescat · 6 years

Text

carl jung is dead (steve harrington x henderson!reader)

word count: 5.2k

warnings: mentions of a death, language

preview: “‘Just another boy’ wouldn’t put his life on the line for a couple of people he barely knew. ‘Just another boy’ wouldn’t tell your little brother his hair-care secret when he thought you were out of earshot just to make the kid smile. ‘Just another boy’ wouldn’t be so fun to talk to, so easy to connect with. Steve couldn’t be explained with three vague little words like that, and you felt guilty for ever thinking that he could.”

A/N: hey guys!! so if anybody read my last author’s note, you’ll know that i’d written and scrapped a bunch of full length fics a while back because i’m such an overly self-critical perfectionist lmao. this is one of those stories that i threw out, but then i kept thinking about it so i decided to say screw it! i’m just gonna post it. so, i hope u enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! quick disclaimer: don’t judge me about my knowledge of psychology & carl jung (or lack thereof). i have taken ONE psych course through my high school and i am not claiming to be an expert in any way. if you know psych, pls ignore my ignorance :)

“Jung died on June 6th, 1961 in Küsnacht, Switzerland.”

As you reread that sentence in your Psychology textbook for the third time, your stomach dropped and you were overcome by dread and grief. “Oh, fuck,” you said before slapping a hand over your mouth. You were still on the phone with the office of international admissions at the University of Basel. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” you squeaked before scrambling to set the handset back onto the receiver. The subsequent silence in your bedroom was sickening. Carl Jung was dead. What the hell were you going to do?

You felt lightheaded and disconnected from your body, like you were in freefall. It was as if the prospect of speaking with the founder of analytical psychology was the only thing you had to hold on to. In fact, you were just about ready to run to the hall closet and grab Dustin’s old Ouija board—god, now you’d really lost your mind—when a knock on the window above your bed made you jump out of your skin.

When you caught your breath, you stood up from your bedroom floor on unsteady legs and climbed onto the mattress to whip open the curtains. You didn’t think anything could have surprised you anymore. Seeing Steve outside your window at three in the morning, however, was definitely jarring.

You weren’t the type of person to judge people you’d never met, so you never really had an opinion about Steve Harrington. God knows your friend Amy did. She’d always run with the popular crowd and she and Steve had had a fling in tenth grade. It didn’t last long—she never even got the chance to introduce him to you—and as a result, you’d spent days listening to her curse his name when he called things off. However, you knew Amy had a flair for the dramatic and probably relished every minute of being angry. Plus, she was back with her ex Jake within a week of her and Steve’s breakup. So, while she swore up and down that Steve was trouble, you still saw him as just another boy.

At least, you did until you met him yesterday. “Just another boy” wouldn’t put his life on the line for a couple of people he barely knew. “Just another boy” wouldn’t tell your little brother his hair-care secret when he thought you were out of earshot just to make the kid smile. “Just another boy” wouldn’t be so fun to talk to, so easy to connect with. Steve couldn’t be explained with three vague little words like that, and you felt guilty for ever thinking that he could.

You slid open the glass and the icy November breeze immediately rushed in. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself. “Um, hi, Steve,” you said, bemused. “What are you doing here?”

He looked sheepish. “Hey, Y/N. I’m really sorry, I thought this was Dustin’s room.”

Shaking your head, you pointed to your left. “One window down. Why’re you looking for Dustin?”

“No reason,” he responded with a shrug. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah. I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah. So, I figured I’d come check on him and make sure he’s okay.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” you said, and Steve grinned sort of shyly. You couldn’t really figure this boy out: one minute he was fearlessly taking on the demodogs armed with nothing but his bat and his bravado, and the next he was nearly blushing simply because you called him sweet. Smiling to yourself, you turned to look at the left wall of your bedroom; Dustin was just on the other side. “Maybe you should come in and knock on his door instead of his window.” You glanced back at Steve. “Save the kid from the heart attack you almost gave me.”

He smirked. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine! Come on in.” You pushed the window open further and jumped back down to the floor. He hoisted himself up and over the windowsill, landing in a heap on your bed. You giggled. “Need a hand?” He shook his head. “I’m good,” he grunted as he righted himself and stood up triumphantly.

“Impressive,” you said, crossing your arms. “Especially since you look like hell. How are you feeling?” His face was bruised badly. You were still upset with him for getting in that stupid fight, especially since he pushed you out of the way before you could punch Billy first.

He shrugged before leaning down to pick up a pillow that he knocked off your bed. “I’ve been better, but I’ll live. Least I didn’t get a needle to the neck.”

You cringed. “Good point.”

“Besides, this,” he added, gesturing vaguely to his face, “makes me look dangerous, and ladies love that, right?”

“Oh, for sure,” you said playfully. “I’m swooning right now.”

He breathed a laugh as he looked around. “Nice room.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It was undoubtedly weird having Steve in your bedroom, especially since it was the middle of the night, you were in your pajamas, and he was the first boy to ever set foot in it. You half-wished you’d thought to cover up the embarrassing pictures of you and your friends on your dresser or the admittedly cringeworthy cat poster on your closet door. He didn’t seem to be judging you, though, and you wouldn’t have expected him to. Not after tonight.

“Were you just doing homework?” You followed his gaze to the floor by your desk, where your Psychology textbook sat surrounded by a mess of loose paper and notebooks.

You pressed your lips together. “Not exactly.”

He gave you a pointed look. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to for a while.” You brushed past him and climbed back onto the bed to shut the window.

You’d never really had trouble sleeping before, but that night was different: you had learned that not only was there a hellish nightmare dimension filled with an army of monsters right under everyone’s feet, but your little brother had known about it for an entire year. Surreal didn’t even begin to describe it. Batshit crazy came a bit closer.

Steve sighed. You could feel his eyes on you. “I know this is a stupid question, but how are you doing?”

You paused with your hands on top of the open window. For some reason, you felt like you could trust him like a close friend even though you had just spoken for what was technically the first time one day ago—unless you count that time he borrowed a pencil from you in eleventh grade. “Carl Jung is dead,” you blurted out of nowhere before slamming the window closed. It rattled in its frame.

“Wait, what? Who?”

Taking a deep breath of the residual wintry air from outside, you turned to face Steve. His face was scrunched up in confusion. “Carl Jung,” you repeated.

He narrowed his eyes. “Carl Jung, isn’t… isn’t that the kid that got arrested in the middle of lunch last year?”

You laughed, but it came out strangled. “No, that was Charlie Young. Y-O-U-N-G Young. I’m talking about Carl J-U-N-G Jung.”

He nodded slowly. “Got it. Who’s that?”

“A famous Swiss psychiatrist.”

“Did you—did you know him personally?”

You shook your head. “No, no, no. I just wanted to talk to him.” You sat down and leaned back against your headboard, eyes trained on your lap.

Steve hesitated for a moment before perching politely at the end of your mattress. “About what happened tonight?” His voice was gentle.

You bit your lip, tracing the outline of one of the flowers on your bedspread with your finger. “No. Well, sorta. It’s… it’s a really long story and it’s not going to make any sense.” You weren’t exaggerating in the slightest—you knew that what you were about to tell him was going to sound completely ridiculous.

“I’ve got time,” he said. You met his eyes and he half-smiled before kicking off his sneakers and shifting into a more casual cross-legged position. Something about seeing him there at the foot of your bed with such an earnest look on his face made your stomach flutter and your heart rate speed up for a moment.

“Alright,” you mumbled, quickly looking back down. You collected yourself before launching into your explanation, sidestepping that flustered feeling. “After you dropped me and Dustin off, I got into bed and I tried to go to sleep, but obviously I couldn’t. I was just lying here in the dark, and I didn’t know what to do, so I started thinking about school because maybe that would bore me to sleep. It didn’t, though, because I remembered this one day in Psychology when Mrs. Anderton told us about this guy named Carl Jung who came up with this thing called analytical psychology and there’s this theory he put forth about something he called the Collective Unconscious. The Collective Unconscious,” you paused briefly to reach down and grab your open textbook off the floor, “‘refers to structures of the unconscious mind which are shared among beings of the same species.’” You shut the book and absently tossed it off to your side. “I remembered that and I just thought, oh my god. It’s just like what happened with Will and the demodogs and the Mind-Flayer thing. I mean, I know it’s not exactly the same, but it’s weirdly similar, right?”

All of that came out in the span of about 30 seconds, and when you looked at Steve, he appeared to be a little stunned. “Wow,” he said quietly.

“I know. And Mrs. A told us that even though psychologists liked Jung’s ideas, parts of the general public thought he’d lost his mind. They called him crazy. And I—I know it’s stupid, but I just felt so bad, you know?” Your voice broke slightly on the word bad and Steve’s eyes roamed your face as if he was searching for something. “This poor guy, I thought. I wanted him to know that he wasn’t crazy. Obviously, I wasn’t going to tell him everything that happened, but I needed him to know that he was right. So, I went downstairs and I found every phone book in the house and I brought them all up here and I called every single person with the last name Jung that I could find. I know it makes no sense but I thought I could find, like, a family member or something, because maybe they could help me find him or at least pass the message along.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You did?” You nodded, pointing at the three phone books on the floor by your door. He glanced over at them before turning back to you, his eyes wide. “How many Jungs are there?”

You sighed. “Oddly enough, there are a lot more than you’d think. Especially since I used one phone book from this area, one from Muncie, and one from Indianapolis.” For once, you’d been grateful for all the times you’ve moved around this state.

“Geez,” he exhaled. “Did you find anyone related to this Carl guy?”

“Nope. I either got no answer or I got cursed out for calling so late.”

“Man, I’m sorry,” he said gently. For a second, he looked like he was going to say something else, but then confusion clouded his expression again. “Wait, wait, wait. Why’d you keep calling if this guy’s dead?”

You groaned. “At that point, I didn’t know he was.

There’s more to the story.”

“Oh, okay, sorry. Keep going.”

“Okay. Anyway, after a while, I decided to call the college he went to, ’cause I figured if anyone knew where to find him, it’d be them. So I looked that up in my textbook and then I called the operator and asked him to connect me to the University of Basel in Basel, Switzerland.”

Steve blinked. “Wow, you’re… resourceful.”

You smiled sardonically. “Guess that’s one word for it.” You would’ve sooner described yourself as senseless, or maybe stupid.

“I’m serious,” he said firmly. “Did you get through?”

“Yep. And—”

“Really? They’ve got people working there this late at night?”

“It’s not night there,” you said with a small smile. “It’s a different time zone.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Mhm. And I was halfway through introducing myself to the person who handles international calls when I read the part of my book that says Carl Jung died in 1961, meaning I’d spent hours searching for someone who’s been dead for 23 years. I am such an idiot.” You dropped your head into your hands, laughing even though there were tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “I’m pretty sure that admissions officer heard me say ‘fuck,’ too, which is really embarrassing. Now I can never apply to that school.”

Steve chuckled. You lifted your head up, drying your eyes with your sleeve, and flashed him a thin smile. “You must think I’m insane.”

He shook his head. “I don’t. You’re not insane.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I called five strangers and a Swiss university at an ungodly hour just because I wanted to talk to a dead guy,” you deadpanned. “About something I’m not even allowed to talk about.”

He pursed his lips. “Okay, I’ll give you all that.” You opened your mouth to say you told him so, but he held up a hand. “But just because you did something crazy doesn’t mean you’re crazy.”

“Easy for you to say,” you retorted as you spun around and flopped down onto your back, stretching out your legs and resting your feet on top of the headboard. “You’re completely fine.” You still couldn’t fathom how he and the kids had handled everything so well, at least on the surface.

Steve was quiet for a minute. In the absence of conversation, intense thoughts began flashing in and out of your head: you remembered how safe you’d felt in Steve’s arms when you hugged him goodbye after he drove you and Dustin home; you remembered standing protectively in front of Dustin, Max, and Lucas in the back of the bus in the junkyard; you remembered finding out about Carl Jung. Your brain seemed to have broken the night down into stand-alone moments now that you had time to look back, like when you’re watching out the window of a moving car and every object flies by in a blur unless you really fix your eyes on it.

It was a little overwhelming. Eager for a distraction, you stared up at the little plastic glow-in-the-dark stars arranged into the shapes of a few constellations on your ceiling. You and Dustin had taped them up there about a week after you moved to Hawkins because your mom had just gotten your brother a book about astronomy and your favorite song was Bowie’s “Starman.” It took you guys hours to finish. You must’ve gone through half a roll of tape and at least a hundred stars, but you both knew it was all worth it. You’d just located Ursa Major when the bed dipped slightly to your right as Steve lay down on his back, too, facing the opposite direction. “Oh, hey, I like those stars,” he commented as he shifted around to get comfortable. His shoulder ended up just barely touching yours.

“Me, too,” you said softly as your stomach filled with butterflies once more. Neither of you spoke for a little while. All you could hear was the sound of his breathing, and you tried to sync yours up to it as your eyes traced the heavens on your ceiling. There was Orion. Breathe in. There was Cassiopeia. Breathe out.

“Do you wanna know,” Steve broke the peaceful silence, “what crazy thing I did after I found out about all this?”

“Yes. Tell me.”

As you, Steve, and Dustin had walked along the train tracks yesterday, they had filled you in on everything they knew about what had happened in November ’83. You already knew they’d visited Will in the hospital one night because you and your mother had gone to pick Dustin up. You knew Dustin had come home and immediately crashed on the living room couch. And while a very confused you had watched a visibly exhausted Steve—who you only knew then as Amy’s ex who was always goofing off with Tommy H behind you in English—drag himself into his BMW as your mom drove out of the hospital parking lot, you didn’t know what had happened with him afterward.

“I went to my grandma’s house.”

You turned to look at him, unsure of whether or not you’d heard him right. His profile was backlit by the lamp on your desk across the room and he was straight-faced. “That’s not even close to crazy, Steve.”

He locked eyes with you. “She lives an hour north of Chicago, and I drove straight there without stopping. It took me like four hours.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh. Wow.”

He nodded, and you both looked up again before he continued. “That night last year, after I left the hospital, I drove right past the turn I’d usually take to get home. I still don’t know exactly why I did it. I just got on the interstate and I was about an hour outside of town when I decided I was going to go to my grandma’s house. She always loves it when me and my parents visit, so I knew she wouldn’t mind. Plus, she really cares about me, always making sure I’ve eaten enough or that school’s going well and stuff.”

You grinned. “She sounds really great.”

“Yeah, she’s the best.”

“You didn’t tell your parents that you were going?”

“No.” There was a barely perceptible edge to his tone. “When I got there, I called them and told them where I was and they said I was gonna be grounded when I got home, but by some miracle they didn’t make me come back right away. I stayed all day Sunday and drove back that night.” Steve paused for a moment, and you spotted Ursa Minor, Pisces, and Capricorn during the silence. “I wish I could’ve stayed longer, though,” he finally said, his voice softer than before. “So much shit happened in those couple days and I was so messed up. I guess I wanted to pretend everything was okay for a little while, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that here.”

You looked at him again. He wasn’t so straight-faced anymore; he looked wistful and melancholic. You got the strongest urge to reach out and touch him, but he turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow before you could—probably saving you from doing another crazy thing that night. He forced a lopsided smile. “So, there you go. You’re not the only one who’s done something ridiculous.”

There was a pang in your chest. “That’s not ridiculous,” you murmured.

“You don’t think so?”

Taking your feet off the headboard and rolling onto your side as well, you mirrored his pose. “Not at all. If I were you, I would’ve done the exact same thing.”

That seemed to comfort him. He smiled reflectively. “You should’ve seen her face when I showed up on her doorstep at six in the morning all beat up. She totally flipped shit. Told me that the next time I got into a fight, I should call her for backup,” he laughed. “And she really gave my dad an earful on the phone for not keeping tabs on me. Called him ‘young man’ and everything.”

“Wow, what a pistol. We could’ve used her help tonight.”

“I pity the demodog who goes head to head with her.”

You giggled, and something flickered in Steve’s eyes before he spoke again. “You know, she’d really like you.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Me? Why?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re nice. Way nicer than any of my other friends. She’s only ever met Tommy and Carol, and they’re the worst. They probably would’ve called me a pussy if I told them this story.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” you responded before what he said fully registered with you. “Wait, ‘other friends’? We’re friends?”

You weren’t sure why you sounded so astonished, because there was really no evidence to suggest that you and Steve weren’t friends. He was lying on your bed, you were having a deep conversation, and you had saved a bunch of lives together a few hours before—including each other’s. That was all textbook friendship stuff. You guessed it had just shocked you to learn that he felt that way. Or maybe it was because he had said it so casually, like there wasn’t any need to emphasize it, like it was undeniable.

Steve looked surprised. “Of course we are. Do you not want to be?”

“Oh, no, I do! I just didn’t realize we were. I mean, we’ve never really spoken before.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, we have.”

“We have?”

“I asked you for a pencil in English last year.”

You burst out laughing, taken aback. “You remember that?”

He smirked. “Only ’cause of what you said when I asked you.”

“What’d I say?”

“You said, ‘Yes, but if I don’t get it back, I’m reporting it stolen.’”

“I so didn’t say that.”

“You so did. And by the way, I kept the pencil just to see what you’d do, and you didn’t even notice. You’re all talk, Y/N.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me? I am not! In fact, tomorrow morning, I’m telling Chief Hopper.”

He grinned. “Good idea. I’m sure he takes cases of grand theft pencil very seriously.”

You rolled your eyes and fought back a smile. “So, what’s the other thing?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘for one thing, you’re nice.’ What’s the other thing?”

“Oh, yeah. Actually, there are two more things. One is that you’re a badass.”

You scoffed. “No way in hell am I a badass.”

His jaw dropped. “Are you kidding? You personally took down at least three of those monsters when we got off the bus, and I could tell that you were going to hit Hargrove when he grabbed Lucas before I beat you to it.”

“Well, someone had to save all of your asses,” you teased. “I was just helping out because you obviously needed it.”

He laughed. “Hey, I just thought of a fourth thing: you’re humble.”

“Very funny,” you said dryly. “Now seriously, what’s the third thing?”

“Alright, alright. The third thing is that you listen to me. Like, no matter what we’re talking about.

Steve said that like it was a novelty. You wished he was kidding, but you saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “Well, of course I do,” you said firmly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He looked down. “I don’t know, it’s just—I don’t know. Remember when we were at the Byers’ place and Mrs. Byers, the Chief, Mike, and Jonathan were outside talking to Will and the rest of us were waiting around inside? You and I were in the living room.” He paused to make sure you were on the same page. You nodded, and he kept going. “You asked me why I was so good with that bat, and I told you that story about how I always wanted to play baseball, not basketball.” That had been one of those stand-alone moments from earlier: you remembered the way his lips had twisted around the words when he told you his dad wanted him to play the same sport he did in high school, so baseball wasn’t an option. “It wasn’t even a good story. It wasn’t important at all. But you listened the whole time and it was—it was just really sweet. You’re really sweet.”

Well, now you knew why Steve got so bashful earlier when you called him sweet, because when he said the same to you, you felt yourself blush uncontrollably. “Oh, please,” you said, flipping over onto your back again. “What are friends for?”

He grinned at you before laying back down, too. Once more, a peaceful silence ensued. Talking to him felt effortless and natural, but there was something special about the way you two were able to sit in silence. It was unlike you to be so comfortable with the quiet, not to feel the need to fill it with words. But lying there under the stars with Steve, communicating only through the synchronization of your breathing, you felt right as rain. Come to think of it, you’d felt that way since he’d gotten there. The inexplicable tranquility you felt when you were with him was probably what had been keeping you sane despite all of the chaos you’d found yourself caught up in.

Whether it was standing back to back in the junkyard, sharing exasperated looks as you tried to keep the kids in line, or that hug outside his car that lasted a beat longer than it probably should’ve, it was being with Steve that made things feel alright even when they definitely weren’t. Maybe that was why he was at the center of nearly every single one of those stand-alone moments you had discovered.

Steve sat up right after you came to that realization, as if the universe was telling you you were right. “Y/N. I never checked on Dustin, did I?”

You pulled yourself upright too, spinning to face him. “Oh geez, that’s right. No, you didn’t.”

“Guess I got distracted,” he said quietly, his eyes on you.

“Me, too. Let’s, uh, let’s go check on him,” you said quickly, scooting off the bed. Steve followed suit. You opened your bedroom door very slowly, trying desperately to prevent it from making any noise. If your mom woke up to find you with a boy in the house, you’d have a lot more to worry about than just the way Steve had been looking at you a moment ago.

Unfortunately, the door squeaked loudly as it opened and you cursed under your breath. Steve put his hand on your shoulder before you could make your way outside. “How bad will your mom freak out if she finds me here?” He was a comically terrible whisperer. You craned your neck to meet his eyes. “Bad enough that you should definitely shut up.” He nodded once, releasing your shoulder. You tiptoed out into the hallway and led him to the first door down from yours.

It wasn’t completely closed, so you carefully slid it open and peered inside. Dustin’s light was on but he was passed out on his bed (still fully dressed, mind you, with his walkie-talkie in his hand). Steve snorted, and you stifled a giggle as happiness bubbled up inside you. You were so glad your brother was able to sleep, especially since you decidedly weren’t. He deserved it after all he had been through. You made a mental note to talk to him about everything that had happened yesterday whenever he woke up. In the meantime, you crossed the room and covered him over with a blanket, setting his walkie-talkie onto his nightstand.

When you turned to leave, you noticed Steve watching you with a thoughtful smile. You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, but his tone let you know that it wasn’t.

“Okay,” you whispered, stifling a grin. “Let’s go.”

You made it back to your room without any issue and Steve closed your door gently. “I should probably get going,” he said, making his way back over to your bed to put his shoes on. “We both need to get some rest.”

“You’re right,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. As much as you would’ve liked him to stay, you were starting to get drowsy. “Thank you, by the way.”

He looked at you sideways. “For what?”

“I didn’t get the urge to call any dead psychiatrists the whole time you were here, and that was nice.”

He chuckled, leaning down to tie his shoelaces. “Well, I didn’t get the urge to drive to Illinois the whole time I was here, so I guess we’re even.”

“That’s good,” you laughed. “By the way, I’m really glad we’re friends.” You added that last part hastily, tripping over the words.

He looked up from his shoes and met your eyes. “So am I.” With that, he seamlessly pulled you into a hug.

Earlier, after he had driven you home, you’d been planning to just say goodnight and go inside. Instead, you said nothing and stayed rooted in place, watching as Steve slung his arm around Dustin’s shoulder, told him to get some sleep, and sent him inside. He then fixed his eyes on you and something foreign came over you. You felt impassioned and almost feverish. You took a step forward and threw your arms around Steve before you even realized what you were doing.

Initially, he had stiffened out of surprise. But then you’d felt his arms wrap around you and he pulled you almost uncomfortably close. “Goodnight,” you murmured against his shoulder. He held you there for a moment before leaning back, letting his hands linger on your waist. “Goodnight.”

This time was different. It was far less desperate, far less intense. Nonetheless, you found solace in Steve’s arms and you sunk into his touch as far as your side-by-side position would allow. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said softly, running his hands up and down your back.

“I’ll answer,” you responded. “If, of course, my mom hasn’t cut my phone line for calling Switzerland.”

His hands ghosted over your arms as he pulled away, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then I’ll just have to come over again,” he said as he stood up and opened up your window, pausing to shoot a grin over his shoulder.

You chuckled, watching as he climbed outside with surprising grace. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You moved to shut the window, but Steve stopped you. “Wait.”

“What?”

“I lied before. I didn’t just come here to check on Dustin. I came to check on you, too.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, thanks. You’re sweet.”

He grinned. “Any time.”

Later on, before you drifted off to sleep, you theorized that adrenaline could act like an emotional novocaine. You’d spent the entire day and night on high, fearing for the safety of yourself and the ragtag group you had suddenly joined, and thus you’d been a bit too preoccupied to really analyze the way your heart beat faster whenever Steve looked at you. But now, safe and sound and free of fight-or-flight, it was tangible and unavoidable. The poetic side of you wanted to call it the beautiful beginning of something. The realistic side of you wanted to call the poet sappy, and believed that this was just another crush. Just another crush on just another boy.

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things reader insert #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

i’m dying to read some harringrove college stuff, so what about the boys being in some frat party, meeting each other for the first time. Billy would be doing some drinking game or something and Steve would be watching him. even tho Steve’s ”dating” this guy (fuckbuddies) who’s arms are around Steve, he still takes an interest on Billy. Billy would also see Steve, all pretty and long legs and would love to get piece of him after getting that guy off him. then they fuck somewhere in the house 👀

Modern. Nb Steve ayoo.

Read on aothree

Under the cut

Billy shouldered his way into the party.

He was trying to find the kitchen, looking for a drink. He ended up just grabbing the drink out of some douchebag’s hand as he walked behind him.

He met up with his roommate, one of the other pledges from the frat he was rushing, Scott.

“Billy, you motherfucker! Play beerpong!” Scott pulled him to the table, shoving a pingpong ball into his hand. Billy looked up, his brain shorting out as he saw the other team.

Across from his was a huge douchey-looking guy, in a muscle tank with the sleeves ripped off, and a backwards hat. Billy knows he dresses like a fuckboy on a good day, but at least he’s not like this asshole.

But what this asshole had, was the most beautiful person Billy had ever seen in his entire fucking life. All long legs, and big eyes. They were wearing a pretty bodysuit, a dark purple color with a deep neckline, lace trimming the spaghetti straps, the neckline, the low back. They had a little pin on their little denim shorts that read They/Them.

Billy watched the jock asshole, tuck them under his arm, whispering something to them, making their eyes crinkle so sweetly while they giggled, batting their big fake eyelashes at him.

Billy played the game making eyes at the pretty little thing on the other side of the table.

But the thing was, they were good. They sunk almost every throw, giving Billy a smug little look each time. It only made Billy fall harder. But then the game was over and the shitty jock tucked the perfect darling under his arm and disappeared into the party.

“Who was that?” He was standing with Scott in the kitchen, finally found it to make themselves some drinks, taking a few shots each.

“The asshole in the trucker hat? That’s Chad Weathers.”

“No not-wait, his name is fucking Chad? There are actually humans named Chad that exist on this Earth?”

“I fucking know. Can you believe? Imagine just being like, hi, my name is Chad.”

“Is he a douche because his name is Chad, or is his name Chad because he was always predisposed to be a douche?”

“Definitely the second. You can’t damp pure asshole like that.” Billy turned, seeing the perfect beerpong sweetheart from earlier, pouring some vodka and raspberry lemonade into a solo cup.

Billy laughed, holding out his hand.

“Billy.”

“Steve.” They shook hands. Their hand was warm and soft, fingers slender and long.

“You really called your boyfriend a douchebag just now, huh?” Steve gave him a look.

“Not my boyfriend. We just fuck sometimes. Usually when he’s drunk enough to not be weird about my dick, and when I’m drunk enough to talk about my dick to strangers.”

Billy just leaned against the counter, making sure to put on his I WILL eat your ass and you’ll THANK me for it smile.

“Well, I know all about your dick now, so we’re not strangers anymore.” Steve just laughed, touching Billy’s upper arm gently. They moved just a hair closer to Billy. He was totally in.

“So, Billy, tell me about yourself. What are you studying?”

“Guess.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Um, you’re a big dudebro so like, business management. Something to get you through while you play football on scholarship and party with your frat.” Billy sucked in some air through his teeth.

“Hate to break it to you, but you were only right about one thing. I’m rushing a frat, but I don’t play football, and I’m not studying fucking business. I’m studying social work. And I’m here on academic scholarship.” Steve was grinning.

“So you’re like, a sensitive dudebro. Good for you.”

“What are you studying, then? Art?” Steve rolled their eyes.

“Just because I’m all queer doesn’t mean I’m studying art. Why didn’t you guess theater.”

“Well, as a fellow queer I just meant you seem like an artistic soul.”

“I mean, I am really great at crafts.” Billy laughed. “But I’m studying education and early childhood development. I wanna teach little kids.” They had this soft look on their face.

“God, you’re just as sweet as I thought you’d be.” Steve raised an eyebrow again, a smile tugging at their lips, painted the same deep purple as their bodysuit.

“You think about me often?”

“Well, you’re just about the only thing I’ve thought of this whole conversation.” And then their hand was trailing down Billy’s arm, tugging him in closer by the wrist, they leaned into Billy’s space, just close enough to be heard.

“You wanna find a room? Think of me some more?” Billy slid his arm around their lower back.

“Lead the way, sweet thing.”

Billy started openly at their ass as they led him up the stairs, hips swaying. The first room they checked was locked, the second unlocked but occupied. But, third time’s the damn charm apparently.

Billy pushed Steve inside, locking the door behind him.

It was some frat bro’s room, shitty basic posters on the wall, a lot of beer cans lined up on the window sill like it was decor.

But Billy wasn’t too focused on their surroundings, not when Steve was getting naked, right then and there in the middle of the room. They tossed a condom from their pocket at Billy as they stepped out of the shorts, sliding the bodysuit off after. Billy groaned.

“Fuck. You’re so fucking sexy.” He placed his hands on their hips, sliding them back to grope at their ass, pulling them forward into him. “Gorgeous.” He figured the deep lipstick was smeared everywhere between by now, but honestly, he really couldn’t find it within himself to care as Steve pawed at his shirt, clumsily undoing the few that were still done, pushing it off his shoulders.

Some base heavy song was playing as Billy kicked out of jeans, pressed against Steve until they were at the edge of the bed, turning them around and bending them over. He pressed sloppy kisses down their spine.

“Can I eat you out?” He heard them groan, hips canting back just a little.

“Fuck yeah.” Billy grinned, spreading them slightly, getting a look at their tight little hole before diving in, licking and sucking with wild abandon. He could barely hear their soft noises over the music of the party, the wet sounds of his own mouth.

He pulled back, spitting one last time before pressing one finger inside, watching as he fucked it in and out.

“There’s, there’s some lube in my pocket.” Steve had turned their head, was looking over their shoulder at Billy, gesturing wildly to the shorts on the floor. Billy leaned back on his knees, kept his one finger pumping in and out of Steve while he got the shorts, finding a few packets of lube and condoms.

“You really came prepared tonight. You go to every party with all this one you?”

“Well it’s mostly just in case.” Billy laughed, muttering MOSTLY just in case under his breath, tearing open the lube with his teeth, pouring some over his fingers and Steve’s hole. He pressed two fingers inside, curling and stretching them expertly.

Steve was whining, fucking back onto three of Billy’s fingers. He still had one hand keeping them spread open, watching his fingers.

“I’m fucking, I’m ready. Just fuck me.” Billy pulled his fingers out, slapping their ass once.

“Brat.” He rolled on the condom, giving himself a few strokes as he did. He lined up, pressing into that tight little spot. He threw his head back, groaning as his hips pressed flush to Steve’s ass, grinding deeply. Steve was face down into the mattress, taking shaky little breaths. Billy dragged a hand up their spine, settling it on the shoulder, the other on their soft hip, using them as leverage to just fuck.

He was slamming into Steve, fucking them with a punishing pace, their skin slapping together. Billy bent over Steve, pushing one arm under their hips, angling them perfectly to slam against that sensitive little spot.

“Oh my God. Whatever the fuck you’re doing right now, don’t fucking stop.” Billy just huffed a laugh, going even harder, slamming their bodies together. Steve wormed a hand beneath them, stripping their cock quickly, bucking their hips forward and back.

Billy groaned when they came, tightening around him lie a fucking vice, crying out.

He kept going for a moment or two, grinding in deep to finish. He pulled out, slumping on the bed next to Steve, flopped in his back. They looked over at him, smiling lazily.

“I’m gonna have to get your number. That was good.” Billy laughed, batting awkwardly at their shoulder.

“Not so bad yourself.” They stood up slolwy, wincing slightly as they got re-dressed, Billy following suit.

“Seriously, I’m gonna be like, actually sore. Haven’t felt like that in a minute.” They were looking the mirror on the inside of the closet door, had just pulled it open like they owned the place to fix their mussed hair. Their makeup was somehow perfectly intact.

They flung their phone over to Billy.

“Put your number in.” They didn’t have a passcode on their phone which was bold, gave them a kinda Fuck with me. I DARE you. I have NOTHING to hide vibe. Billy liked it.

He put his number in under Billy Delta Phi party, so that Steve knew, would see the number and remember the night, the way Billy fucked them so hard they hurt.

“Just shoot me a text sometime. I’ll kick my idiot roommate out.”

“No need, I have a single room. The university was gonna put me with some guy, but my loving mommy and daddy don’t trust me not to be a slut.” Billy raised an eyebrow, cocking his head a little.

“You have a single room and we’re not there right now?” Steve just smirked, a challenge in their eyes.

“You askin’ for another round?”

“Long as you’re not too sore.” Steve took his wrist, dragging him out of the party and down the road back towards campus.

#yikes writes #harringrove #steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #nb steve harrington #heyyo #harringrove modern au

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debitchery · 6 years

Text

steve harrington had no sense of permanence in his life.

he learned young that nothing lasts forever, and that lesson has stuck with him. the first time he lost something, he was six and his security blanket disappeared one day while he was asleep. he remembers asking his parents where it was for months. he spent weeks barely sleeping, unable to feel safe or comfortable without the soft baby blue cloth being held in his arms. his mother was adamant that she had no idea where it was. his father merely sighed and lectured him on how he was too old to still have a blanket anyway, so he should be grateful that it disappeared. steve was sure that the monster under his bed or the one in his closet had taken it. every night, from then on, he made sure his closet door was shut and nothing hung off the edges of his bed.

when he was eight, his nonna had given him a stuffed bear. it’s fur was rough, a dark brown color, and it had little black beady eyes. steve loved the bear, named him teddy and every night he held him tight. he tucked teddy under the covers when he went to school to make sure none of the monsters could get him. he dreamt that teddy and him ran away from home. away from the stinky smell of his dad’s cigars and his mom’s expensive perfume. away from the lectures and the nights without dinner and the glares. in his dreams, him and teddy fought monsters and won and ate ice cream and he woke up feeling good.

teddy disappeared while steve was at school. when steve asked if his parents had seen it, his father sighed at him, puffing on his cigar. his mother had glanced between the two of them before telling him that maybe steve had put it in his backpack by mistake. steve ran to check and when it wasn’t in there, she told him that maybe he lost it at school. his dad lectured him for being irresponsible and trying to blame his bears disappearance on his mother. steve went to his room and cried on his bed, hiding deep underneath the covers in hopes that he could still be safe without teddy.

when he was twelve, he had gotten a poster from school. it was good ol’ uncle sam saying that he wanted steve to come and fight for him. steve saluted the poster every morning. he wanted to grow up and be a soldier. he wanted to grow up and fight the big bad men across the world from their tiny little town of hawkins. he thought that, maybe if he won, being a soldier would make his father proud of him.

he was woken up in the middle of the night one day, a few weeks after he had won the poster in his history class, to his door shutting. he jolted awake, grabbing his softball bat that he kept close to his dresser and jumped out from under the covers. as his eyes worked to get accustomed to the dark of his room, he tried to prepare himself to face whatever monster crawled out of his closet to eat him.

as his eyes got used to the lack of light, he realized that it wasn’t anybody else in the room. in fact, nothing really seemed off about his room. he turned on his light and glanced around, wanting to make sure there was nothing wrong. he couldn’t find any unexplained shadows, or hear any heavy breathing from the corners of his room so he laid back down and fell back to sleep with the light on.

the next morning he woke up and saw that his poster had disappeared. uncle sam was no longer pointing down at him like he could be the one to save the world. he didn’t bother asking about it, figured his father would tell him that it disappearing was a good sign. he’d probably tell him, “son, you could never cut it as a soldier anyway, look at yourself.”

it happened plenty more times over the years, too many times to count. stuffed animals, books, cassette tapes, even a few shirts, all of the things that steve cared about; they would all just seemingly cease to exist after a certain amount of time. steve had tried going to desperate measures to keep things away from the nothingness that stole away everything he loved.

his nonna had given him a leather cord bracelet shortly before she had passed away. it was the last thing she had from her, and he couldn’t let it disappear. steve put the bracelet on when he was fifteen and hasn’t taken it off since.

tommy had given him a few comic books for his sixteenth birthday, and it was the only gift tommy had ever given him. steve put them into a folder and put some bullshit essay in front of them, hiding them in plain sight.

he kept a bat riddled with nails as bent and twisted as steve felt. he used the bat to fight away the monsters that he could manage. he couldn’t lose it to the monsters that stole away everything that has made him feel safe. steve keeps the bat in the trunk of his car.

dustin had given him a polaroid of the two of them together, smiling like idiots and their hair as big as they could manage it to get. steve put it in his wallet and kept his wallet on him at all times.

he kept his room as empty as it could be, walls bare and dressers only having the essentials on them. not even a schoolbook sat on his nightstand. every night, even if there was nothing to take, he laid down with the light on. he tried to sleep through the screams of certain monsters in his head and glimpses of monsters he’s never been able to catch in the corner of his eyes.

billy hargrove came into his life like a lightning strike. sending searing heat and hurt through steve’s entire being. but just like being struck by lightning, meeting someone like billy felt like something that would only happen once in his life. he wanted to live this to the fullest before he disappeared too.

he played basketball with him, then practise would end.

he fought with him, then the pretty bruises that billy left on him faded.

he drank with him, then he beat billy’s record and billy got mad.

he laughed with him, then they had to hate each other again because they both have an image to keep up.

he kissed him, then they had to part because they couldn’t be caught.

he let billy fuck him, then he left steve’s house while he slept.

every few nights or so, billy would climb in steve’s bed and hold him close. billy in his bed made steve feel loved and safe. but just like everything else that made him feel safe, billy disappeared into the darkness when steve let his eyes shut.

everything and everyone disappeared at one point, and, somewhere along the way, steve learned to accept that. he didn’t like it. in fact, he hated the way he couldn’t trust that everything was going to be the same whenever he opens his eyes in the morning as when he shut them the night before. he hates that he doesn’t believe in a forever and always or any happily ever after like tommy and carol or jonathan and nancy. he hates that he is constantly waiting for billy to just fuckin’ leave him in the dust because that’s what always happens. he hates it, but he’s accepted it.

one night, billy came over to get drunk and hang out (because billy has his own problems and those never seem to disappear). the two of them sat on the couch and passed bottles back and forth until they were laughing and feeling nice. they kissed every now and then, but there wasn’t much rush. they had all the time in the world. steve’s parents were off at yet another business meeting so they had the house to themselves.

at one point, steve had gotten up to throw out the collection of beer bottles piling up beside the couch and when he came back, billy was no longer on the couch. he called out for him, and heard his laugh echoing down the stairs. he stumbled his way up the stairs, going towards the lit up room that billy’s laugh was coming from, assuming it was his own. when he walked in the doorway, he realized that billy was in his father’s office, which steve was unofficially banned from entering. he slurred out billy’s name and waving his hand, trying to tell him to get out without using so many words.

billy can’t see him because billy is currently rooting through his dad’s closet. steve rolls his eyes and starts to walk away, planning to just clean up whatever mess billy makes tomorrow when he hears billy’s own slurred voice from inside the closet.

“didya know that your pops keeps a teddy bear in his closet?”

steve ran back into the room immediately, billy’s use of his old stuffed animal’s name making him daring. he shoves billy out of the closet and there in his boyfriend’s hand is teddy, one black little eye staring into steve’s soul.

“‘m kinda disappointed, y’know? i was kinda expecting, like, actual skeletons.” billy was laughing but steve could barely hear him.

he was too busy staring at the tear in the bear’s arm where stuffing was starting to fall out and at the stains of black shoe polish all around his legs. it was like he was just thrown in there and forgotten about. forgotten about for the last decade.

he snatched the bear out of billy’s hand and hugged it close to him as tears suddenly clouded his vision. he heard more than he felt his knees hit the ground hard. he heard more than he felt when billy sank down next to him and tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t.

a decade. ten years. three thousand six hundred and fifty days. he has spent more than half his life hiding everything he cared about. hiding from the dark and monsters that stole anything that he loved. monsters. teddy has been in his dad’s closet. his teddy bear. his protection. monsters. his dad had yelled at him, told him he was disrespectful because he had asked his mom where it went. his dad said that he was irresponsible. teddy was in his dad’s closet. monsters. his dad was a monster this whole time.

at some point, steve realized that he was in his own bed. he realized that billy had covered the two of them up and kept his light on. he realized that billy had shut his closet door because steve had told him too so many times before. monsters. he realized that billy was rubbing his back softly and humming, making sure the room wasn’t completely silent. monsters.

he looked into billy’s eyes and saw nothing but concern and worry and realized that he didn’t want a forever without him. he swore to himself, to billy, and to whatever god might exist that he wouldn’t let anything take that away from him, all monsters be damned.

he told billy that much, told him that he wanted to be with billy forever.

billy may not have understood what forever meant to steve then, but he held him tighter and said “forever and ever, babe. ‘m gonna be here even when all that hair of yours falls right off, and you’re bald as an eagle.”

he smiled at him, and steve smiled back.

(another decade later, steve and billy adopt a baby girl. her name is anna. the first gift she ever received is a stuffed bear. his fur is rough, and dark brown. he has one beady black eye and one tiny blue button eye.)

#this isn't what i was supposed to be writing right now but here it is #i hope this actually made sense or whatever but i needed to write it #steve x billy #billy x steve #harringrove #ashton writes

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