#nancy looses her shit when someone she loves gets hurt :((

[wildestflowrs]

🩹Ronancetober Day 9: Free Day!❣️

Trigger warnings:

Depiction of wounds and gore

Wrap me up in your arms

Nancy practically kicks the door to Hopper’s cabin open, feeling Robin go even more slack as she supports her, tries to keep her on her feet. They barely get into the kitchen before Robin’s knees give out, and she sinks to the floor, letting out a cry of pain as she does so.

“Rob, come one, we’ve got to get you on the counter,” Nancy tries to help her up, but Robin grunts, gripping Nancy’s wrist. Nancy met Robin’s ocean blue eyes, brimmed with tears and desperate as the girl shakes her head.

“Okay, Rob, okay I’ll just patch you up here,” Nancy feels tears sting in her own eyes, “just stay here, and stay awake, okay?”

She hurries to find a first aid kit, rummaging through cupboards until she finds it, grabs scissors and a cloth which she runs under some water. She returns to Robin, gnawing the inside of her cheek at the sight of the ever growing splotch of blood ebbing through Robin’s clothes.

She eases off Robin’s jacket, sobs catching in her throat each time the wounded girl grimaces or shouts in pain. Then she cuts off Robin’s shirt; once green, now a sea read and soaked completely.

The wound beneath is disgusting, and Nancy struggles to stifle a gag. It’s a mixture of a bite and a gash on Robin’s left side, just between the bottom of her rib cage and her hip. The demodog had pounced at them when they least expected it, preying on Robin first before Nancy blew its head off. Despite her quick thinking, Nancy couldn’t spare Robin from a gory wound.

Nancy starts dabbing at it with the cloth, Robin recoiling and whimpering each time the wound is touched, and now Nancy’s hands are shaking so much and she’s not being gentle enough and-

Robin grabs her wrist again and uses her other hand to hold Nancy’s chin, guiding her up to look at her.

“N-Nance, you got this, ‘kay?” Her speech is slurred and bloody saliva trickles out of the corners of her mouth, but Robin still gives Nancy a watery, lopsided smile, so similar to her usual grin despite the palpable pain in her expression.

Robin guides Nancy’s hand back to cleaning the wound, mumbling encouragement to try and ease Nancy’s quickening breathing.

Nancy begins to wrap a bandage around Robin’s waist, but even after wrapping around four times with the rapidly decreasing amount of bandage left she can see blood blooming through the pristine white dressing.

“Rob I-,” she can barely catch her breath, “it’s not- I can’t- the bandage isn’t working- I’m sorry,”

She keeps wrapping over and over until she cant any more, tying off the bandage and feeling slightly relieved for a few fleeting moments before red seeps through again, and she lets out a cry in frustration. She rummages through the first aid kit for another bandage, there’s hot tears running down her cheeks bad she’s wrapping and wrapping and wrapping until she is stopped by Robin again, taking both of her hands in hers.

“Nancy, look, it’s okay,” Robin squeezes her shaking hands tightly, her voice barely above a whisper, “you’ve done it, I’m fine, I’m still here, okay? We’re all fine,”

Nancy sinks into Robin’s chest, letting out sobs that make her chest ache, and Robin’s running her hand through her hair and whispering to her ‘Oh, Nance, it’s all okay now, you did so well baby,’

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

A/N: I wrote this loosely based on my own experience where my feelings for someone was used a prank for April Fools. Except it was the guy I liked who pranked me, and there was no happy ending. Also, my best friend at the time was part of it. Still hurts to think about.

Kevin hated Steve Harrington and hated him with a passion. He never did anything to him personally, but he didn't do anything to stop his friend Tommy from shoving him into lockers. He swore that if he had ever been given the opportunity that he would get revenge. Tommy had gone off to God knows where Steve would have to do, especially since he's been hogging all of Eddie's time since Spring Break.

Kevin had heard all sorts of stories about how Steve saved his life and how he had been taking care of him. He knows what kind of guy Steve is, knows that he's probably yanking Eddie's chain. Guys, like Steve, they never really change. He was going to hurt him before he could hurt Eddie. He knows that even douchebags can have feelings, and they were clear as day when he looked at Eddie. No, Kevin couldn't allow that. Saturday was April 1st. What a perfect opportunity. It was also perfect that he could copy Eddie's handwriting almost exactly. He wrote the note and slipped it on Steve’s car at Family Video. He ran back to his car, where it was parked down the road.

"I'm telling you, Robin," Steve said as he walked out of work with his best friend. "Even if he does like guys, it doesn't necessarily mean he likes me."

"I've seen the way he looks at you!" Robin practically growled at him.

"I don't want to get my hopes up here," he replied.

"It's worth the risk to have a little hope," she said softly. "Hey, what's that on your car?"

Steve shrugged and picked up the white piece of paper. It was a note from Eddie. He smiled, the smile growing as he read the note.

"Holy shit, you were right, Robin!" Steve exclaimed. "He likes me. He really likes me!"

Robin squealed and made a grab for the note. She jumped and hugged Steve. The next thing Robin knew, Steve was spinning her around and dancing with her in the empty parking lot.

"It's all coming together, Robin," Steve said softly.

When Saturday rolled around, Steve waited around impatiently for the evening to come. Robin had come over to help him get ready, and she began to get nervous with him. It wasn't even her date. When it came time to meet Eddie at the restaurant, Steve dropped Robin and her bike off at her house with promises to call if the date went well. He walked into Enzo's, flowers gripped tightly in his hand, and sat at the table reserved for him. It was quite a fancy restaurant for Eddie, but then he remembered how he had mentioned before about really working really hard to save up for something special. Had he been talking about Steve? He wondered what he would be wearing. He hoped it would be his regular clothes. That would be a sight.

As he thought about Eddie, an hour went by, and then another. It was pretty close to closing time, and Eddie was still a no-show. Steve frowned into his glass of water. He knew that if he hadn't shown up by now, then he was never going to show. It felt like someone had punched him the gut. The waiter came over to him with a note, and he perked up. Maybe it was from Eddie explaining himself. He opened it, and he sucked air through his teeth. It no longer felt like a punch. It felt like someone had rammed a sword through his stomach. On the note, in Eddie's handwriting, were the words: April Fools. Fuck.

Steve stormed into his home, slamming the door so hard it rattled. He was finding it hard to breathe. He could feel his face flush with shame and humiliation. Of course, it wasn't real. Of course, it had been a joke. Of course, no one could ever really love him. His parents certainly didn't. Nancy didn't, and now. . .now, it was Eddie who didn't love him, who thought he was a joke. That one hurt most of all. Fool. Bullshit. Fool. Not good enough. Not smart enough. Not worth it. Steve screamed and began breaking the things in the foyer. The end table came crashing to the floor, and he pulled the mirror that hung with it, the vase on top breaking on the floor as the rest followed suite. The notes were still crumpled in his hands, and he let them fall to the floor as he walked over the broken glass.

"Hello?" Robin called out as she entered Steve’s house the next morning.

She tried calling first, knowing he liked that, but he didn't answer, and so she got worried. He had promised to call if the date had gone well. Robin frowned as she moved all the way in and felt the crunch underneath her feat before she saw it. She glanced down and saw the wreckage on the floor along with the note. April Fools. She gasped, running over the glass and up the stairs to Steve’s room. She burst through the door, and her heart broke at the sight. Her best friend was lying in bed, still in the clothes from last night. His eyes were glassy and swollen. He looked so tired, so sad. . .

"Robin," Steve croaked.

Robin spent the next week when she wasn't working or going to school, taking care of Steve. She called off sick for him and worked hard to be there for him. She prevented the kids from stopping by, claiming that she didn't want them to get sick, but she knew that wouldn't hold for long. Friday had been enough for her after seeing him in school all happy and smiling while her best friend laid up in bed. He went to the bathroom and he still ate food but he stopped bathing. He stopped caring about his hair! Enough was enough!

"MUNSON!" Robin yelled, seething, as she stormed into the drama room.

He was holding Hellfire, had just begun when Robin ran in, and he nearly toppled out of his chair. He had never seen her so angry before, and honestly, it was terrifying.

"Robin, what -," Eddie started.

"He can't get out of bed because of you because of this!" Robin exclaimed, slamming pieces of paper to his chest. "After everything he did for you! What the fuck?!"

"A-are we talking about Steve?" Eddie asked. "I thought he was sick."

"No, he's fucking not. He's fucking devastated because of what you did," she said in disgust.

Eddie frowned, and his eyes widened when he read the notes. Oh God, he felt like he was going to be sick.

"How long did he wait?" Eddie asked.

"Hours," she replied.

Shit.

"Robin, I didn't write this," Eddie said.

"Oh, likely story," she scoffed.

"I swear, but I know who did," he said darkly and looked Kevin's way when he heard him laugh.

Eddie stood up, letting the notes fall, and walked towards a laughing Kevin. He grabbed Kevin by the collar, pulled him up out of his chair, and slammed him roughly against the wall. Kevin stopped laughing.

"Seriously?" Kevin asked.

"What you did was beyond fucked and you did it in my name," Eddie said furiously.

"King Steve deserved what he got. He is and always will be a bully," Kevin sneered.

"Jesus Christ, Kevin!" Grant spoke up.

"Steve Harrington is a better man than you will be. He grew up. How about you do the fucking same? In the meantime, you're out of the club," Eddie said.

He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and ripped it down the middle before slamming him back against the wall. Kevin glared at him, grabbed his things, and walked out. Eddie turned around, full of rage.

"Anyone else have a problem with Steve Harrington?! If you do, speak now!" He snapped, pausing. "Alright then, Hellfire is canceled for tonight. There's someone I need to tend to. I swear, Robin, I - "

"I believe you," she said quickly. "Let's go."

Eddie nearly broke down crying at sight of Steve laying in bed, looking so utterly defeated. Steve flinched away from when he tried to touch him. Eddie was going to curse Kevin's name until the day that he died.

"Steve, listen to me. I swear on Hellfire, Dustin's mother, and James Hetfield that I didn't write that note. That was all Kevin, and it was for something that Tommy did. I was going to ask you out to a Tears for Fears concert. I even bought the tickets, I've been waiting to ask you. I still want to ask you, but I understand if you don't believe me," Eddie said.

"I never stopped him," Steve said, looking at him.

"Stopped who?" Eddie asked.

"Tommy."

"Oh, baby, you weren't the only one who could have done something. Besides, it wasn't your job to stop him. The only one who well and truly could have stopped Tommy Hagen was Tommy Hagen. He made his choice, and he got to lay in whatever bed he made. You didn't deserve what happened to you, my love, nobody does," Eddie said.

"Am I?"

"What?"

"Your love?"

"Abso - fucking - lutely you are!"

Steve met him halfway to the sweetest kiss that either one of them had ever gotten. Eddie pulled back with a grin.

"There's no doubt about it," Eddie said. "I love you, baby, I do, but your breath stinks, and you need a shower."

Steve laughed, and it was the most beautiful song that Eddie had ever heard. His favorite song.

[devondespresso]

writing my silly little fic and again im struck with how much opportunities they missed by pretending the s2 stancy breakup wasn't messy, specifically for Nancy's guilt about barb and forcing herself to grow up too fast

like s1 Nancy spends one night being a stupid teenager goofing off at her boyfriend's party and staying over to get spicy while Barb goes home. then she later realizes Barb disappeared and died that one night she was letting go and having fun. this is widely recognized trauma for her and informs a lot if not most of her actions through the rest of the show

in season 2 she's feeling the weight of it more around the first year anniversary. steve trys to help by taking her to a party to forget for a little while and 'be stupid teenagers' for a night. a perfectly set up parallel already

the way the show wants it to go, we get the bullshit argument, they fight, allegedly break up at some point, and nancy sleeps with Jonathan. later steve tells her to go with him and we're supposed to read it as Steve stepping back so jancy can happen. we're supposed to be seeing this as a happy ending.

but with the material we're given this would have been the perfect place for an emotional repeat of season 1 for nancy. she and steve go to the party and pretend to be stupid teenagers for the night. but oh no! nancy lets lose too much, lets herself relax and drink and dance, and the next day her boyfriend's pissed. hes saying she said things she never remembered saying and its hurt him and she doesn't know what to do. and kids around school are talking about them breaking up at the party, and that fits with Steve's anger she saw, so they must've broken up right? it sucks, even if she wasn't in love with him, that'd be the worst way to break up with someone (especially if she's confusing platonic and romantic feelings or convincing herself it has to be romantic when she really just values him as a friend)

and then she doesn't have time to work it out, she needs to go with Jonathan to avenge barbs 'disappearance' to give her family closure. She's got a lot of conspiracy shit to do and its stressful. so when murray starts going off about how she's not really in love with steve, how she actually likes Jonathan and he seems to like her back. they finished a lot of the hard work with the conspiracy stuff, she can let her guard down and have a quick good night.

then the next day is chaos. demodogs and labs and will being possessed. It a rough fucking day. Steve tells her to go with Jonathan while they get the mindflayer out of Will, civil like they're on good terms so she does (and thank god she did because that was rough and they needed all the help they could get)

and then everything's fine again, with the upside down. and it looks like she handled things better this time, was about to relax occasionally and still made it through.

except apparently she and steve didn't break up. he thought it was just a few fights, that they put their shit aside for the apocalypse and now they can work things out.

and it could ruin nancy. a year later and she's still hasn't learned her lesson, that letting her guard down hurts the people she cares about, that relaxing and having fun makes her lose people. its her fault for the messy breakup with Steve and its her fault that barb is gone. she's the reason she's lost friends close to her, 2 for 2, and now she only has Jonathan left (and what do you know, season 3 has her conflict with Jonathan and in season 4 she's not let anyone else get truly close to her and fred still dies)

you see what i mean?? by having conflict magical resolve itself in the background we loose so much powerful, painful character drama for her. our girl who thinks she has to keep the world around her up solely on her shoulders because she can't handle the loss of her best friend in season 1. Nancy who desperately wants to be normal and have people she loves but keeps losing them, through factors both in and out of her control, but feels like everything has to be her fault just because some things were.

and to be fair, that story is still present in the show. its there and definitely compelling, but it could've been even more so. i feel like if maybe there was less 'nancy has to be a strong independent girlboss' in there (abd it's definitely there, they want to make a point of making her a Strong Woman Character so bad) and she was allowed to have mistakes acknowledged by the narrative, this is the direction it would've gone. She could've been an excellent example of well written women who are strong and awesome through their own right instead of the narrative trying to make us like her

[sad-brunnettee]

I'm just like you part 3

Warning: verbal abuse, cussing, and self harm

<< Part 1 < Part 2

At that moment you felt your whole world crumble. You weren't sure what a panic attack felt like but you're positive that what you're feeling now, is exactly that. If Jonathan is here that either means the kids are at his house or they're out alone. Regardless you were sure your mother would kill you for leaving your sister unsupervised. 

"Where is she?" You asked, trying to stay calm. 

"Who? Nancy… or Carol?" Jonathan asked, clearly confused on who you were referring to. The list of girls you knew and got along with was endless, making it harder for him to figure out who you were asking for. 

"My sister! Y/s/n, where is she?" Trying not to scream at him the truth that you've been hiding for years now. 

"Hey chill, she's with Will and the rest of the party out trick-" Jonathan explained with his hands in his pocket as if everything was perfect. 

"What? What do you mean they're trick or treating alone, what if…" pausing to look around to make sure nobody was listening. "What if they get hurt, again?" You continued in a low voice. 

While he went on to explain his thinking similarly as he did to himself before driving to the party. Billy was standing next to Tommy and Carol. Completely ignoring the conversation as he was too busy trying to figure out why Jonathan was talking to you. 

It was then that Tina came up to you with the phone on her hand. Telling you that Crystal, a close friend of yours, wanted to speak to you. Before leaving, she made sure to give Jonathan a dirty look.

"Hello?" You spoke while walking off to a quieter place while twirling the phone cord. 

As she spoke to you everything seemed to be in slow motion. Once she told you she had seen your moms car driving down her road. Your mind wondered off to your own safety as well as y/s/n's. She's never gotten her but you were afraid it will go too far now. If she knows you left her unattended while going to a party all hell will break loose. That's all you needed to hear before dashing off to look for Carol. Feeling someone's eyes on you, you turned and met Billy's gaze. In front of him was Carol throwing flirty looks at all the guys standing around her. 

Rushing to her side you grabbed her elbow to get her attention. 

"Watch it dumb-" Carol exclaimed but stopped as she came face to face with you. "Oh y/n, you scared me– are you okay?" Her eyes filled with concern, you never got frightened about anything. Except for one thing or person more specifically. Your mom. 

Billy watched the interaction with furrowed eyebrows. He could tell by your body language that you were scared. From the corner of his eye he saw Jonathan walking closer with a scared look on his face.

“…I’ll see you guys at school.” Billy turned to where you once stood but noticed that you started to walk away. It took a moment for Carol and Tommy to regain their composure and try to pretend that everything was fine. He felt the need to go after you and make sure you were fine, wasting no more time he walked off.

“Hey Hargrove, where are you going?” Tommy’s obnoxious voice called for him. Rolling his eyes he kept on walking once he was outside he threw the now empty cup on the ground. He got out just in time to see you pull out of the driveway and speed off.

“Shit” he mumbled and walked to his car, turning on the engine he didn’t bother turning on the radio and blast off music. He was sure you would think he was a creep for following you but something in his gut made him do it anyway.

You knew that the party loves Halloween and is why they always go to the rich neighborhoods to get candy. Not caring about the speed limit you pressed your foot harder on the accelerator. As tears started to form in your eyes it made it harder to drive. Your anxiety was starting to get the best of you but now was not the time.

When you arrived to the neighborhood you came to a complete stop. If you were right, the party should be sitting down under a tree near the Johnson’s house. Counting how many candies each one got and who got the best. There seemed to be more kids compared to last year but you were able to spot them thanks to Dustin’s curls.

Billy was surprised but curious as to why you drove all the way here. Is this where you live? When he saw you get out of your car he took it as an opportunity to talk to you.

“Y/n!” Due to the many kids walking around he had no other option but to park his car away from you.

Hearing the sound of someone yelling your name you quickly turned around ready to blurt out a shitty excuse to who you believed was your mom. To your surprise, it was no other than Billy who had called you.

“Billy?” You spoke with a shaky voice, your right hand was placed over your heart in a way to slow down your racing heartbeat. Looking over your shoulder to make sure the kids are still there you walked over to Billy.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing sweetheart” Billy spoke while lookin around in an attempt to avoid looking embarrassed for following you.

“I’m here for my sister, y/s/n, I have to take her home.” You explained as briefly as possible hoping he would take that as an answer.

“Seemed more than that to me, judging by how fast you left the party.” His eyes finally met yours his way of showing you that he was there for you. And oh did you want to believe him, you wanted to tell him of all your suffering. Hoping that it will allow you to get closer but you were afraid of what he will do afterwards.

“Billy? What are you doing here?” A voice came from behind you and no later did a redhead girl come to view. She was dressed as Michael Myers but you recognized as the girl with the skateboard. Soon the other kids joined the three of you.

“Y/n look how much candy we got!” Your sister came running towards you dressed as a cowgirl while holding her candy bag with both hands extended towards you. It was moments like this that you wished she wouldn’t grow up.

“You don’t have as much candy as me, my good looks got me more candy than all of you.” Dustin came up to you two holding up his bag for you to see. He was right, there seemed to be double candy than what y/s/n had.

“Wow Dusty, I’m impressed.” And you were, back when you were a kid and would go out trick or treating you never got this much candy.

“We still have one more house to go to, come on guys!” Mike spoke before walking off with Will. Out of all the kids Mike seemed to take care of him the most.

“Max come on don’t just stand there.” It was now Lucas who called for the redhead. She huffed and walked over to them while looking back at Billy almost as if she was scared of what he’ll say.

You started walking with them but allowing some distance. Shortly after you heard footsteps behind you and soon Billy was standing right next you. The both of you stopped right before the driveway.

“Your sister looks a lot like you.” He broke the silence and you were glad for that. Even if the silence was comfortable there was something about his voice that drove you crazy.

“I get that a lot. Is Max your…” You wanted to say sister but didn’t want to upset him for guessing wrong. Even if you’ve never spoken to her based from the interaction the two had earlier, you could conclude their behavior was similar.

“She’s my step sister. Dad remarried and now I’m stuck looking after that little shit.” He spoke with so much annoyance, making it clear that he wasn’t fond of her.

“Well that’s how it is with siblings there’s no escaping the new responsibility.” You spoke while looking at your sister and you couldn’t help but smile just by seeing how happy she was.

All you received from Billy was an affirmative noise. Followed by him pulling out a cigarette from his leather jacket. You weren’t a fan of smoking but looking at him taking a drag and allowing the smoke to get lost in the air made him seem hotter if possible.

Shortly after the kids came back forcing you to remember why you were in such a rush to come here in the first place. You hated ruining y/s/n’s happy time with her friends but it had to be done, Halloween had to come to a short end. The wind started to pick up and she didn’t have anything to keep her warm, you saw how her teeth chattered but tried to make it go unnoticed.

“Y/s/n, let’s go home it’s getting late.” You extended your right hand for her to grab. She always told you she was too big to hold your hand but always held onto you anyway.

She complained for a little but seeing how windy it was getting she had no choice but to hold your hand. Admitting defeat. You turned to Billy and saw him already looking at you.

“I’ll see you at school Billy.” You offered a small wave and started to walk away. Letting go of y/s/n hand, you put your arm around her shoulders. In order to give her some warmth.

During the ride ride home she told you of all the fun things her and the kids did. Your smile kept on growing and you couldn’t help but laugh after hearing some of the things the kids did.

Once you were closer to your house, you noticed all the lights off and your moms car nowhere to be seen. You parked your car but stayed seated.

“Hello, earth to y/n, are you there?” The snapping of your sisters fingers brought you back to reality. You chuckled softly and opened the door to get out. She did the same and grabbed her candy bag hugging it to her chest.

“You need help there?”

“No, I got it. I’m a strong cowgirl look at these bad boys.” Y/s/n attempted to flex her muscles while holding the bag with one hand. It worked but then the bag started to slide off, with a small shriek she was quick to grab it.

“Come on Hercules, you have to get ready for bed.” You unlocked the front door and took the bag from her. Otherwise she’ll try to eat as much candy as possible. After you put the candy in place where it will be hard for her to reach. You walked up the stairs and into your room. Taking out an oversized shirt you threw it on your bed and looked for your light blue pajama pants with small ruffles. Moving over to your other drawer you choose some matching undergarments. Grabbing the clothes you walked to the bathroom where your other essentials were.

You took a quick shower and after drying yourself you put on your pajamas and brushed your teeth. Walking back to your bedroom you groaned realizing you had left your car keys on the kitchen table. As you made your way down the stairs you made sure to be quiet to not disrupt your sleeping sister. Once you reached the last step you noticed the kitchen light on.

Weird, I’m sure I had turned it off you thought while taking cautious steps.

Stepping into the kitchen your mom was there sitting on a chair drinking some coffee.

“Who was that guy you were talking to?”

[decimalpointed]

Anybody notice how Steve Harrington seems way too easily swayed by the people he cares about when they tell him how he should feel?

Like in season 2 Nancy is hurting and drunkenly says all those terrible things to him, does not apologize, and basically tells him that yeah everything should be fine between them cause she was just drunk and didn't mean it even though she can'tseem to say I love you. And so then later we see Steve with roses, coming to apologize and he isn't even sure for what cause he was the one hurt. So he deferred to Nancy for how he should be feeling in the situation, when clearly she broke his heart by how he was trying to give Dustin advice shown later on.

Then in season 3, he has a budding friendship with Robin and doesn't seem to see her in a romantic light. But then Dustin, someone he clearly cares about, comes back and starts badgering him to get with Robin cause she's awesome. And once again Steve defers to someone else for how he should be feeling towards someone and tries to engage romantically with Robin and then she rejects him and instead they are best friends (thank God because they are a wonderful platonic dynamic duo)

And then here we have season 4 and this one is a doozy. In season 3 Steve said he is no longer in love with Nancy when he talks to Robin. But here in season 4 they are running around together, once again in peril and trauma bonding (which seems to be how Nancy connects with people on a romantic level) Que 3 people (two of which Steve cares deeply about) telling him he is romantically inclined towards Nancy again and then he just. He just goes with it. At first it seems He was gonna keep his mouth shut and probly pine a little and then when others start telling him once again how to feel he buckles down and defers. Its like he isn't sure whats acceptable to feel, and he just takes the ques of the people around him.

And yes, the whole Nancy being there with the 6 kids is probly something he did or does want. Because we just keep seeing over and over that Steve craves love and acceptance and a family. He gets a taste of everything he wants (with love from Nancy, family from Dustin and the kids, acceptance and true friendship from Robin) after things start going to shit with the Upside Down. He probly got a taste of all that and made this perfect picture in his head and of course Nancy would be the one there, she basically was the catalyst of it all, the start of him finally figuring out what he wants in life.

So he finally figures out what makes him happy, then looses Nancy, probly spirals a bit because he wants her happy but that makes him unhappy and its probly confusing. And the deferring just keeps happening and its a pattern we keep clearly seeing. Im sure there's more I could talk about, especially from season 1 and Tommy and Carol but I think you get the gist.

Anyway. Just some thoughts.

[altagraye]

Big Big Love part 11

part 11: Send Her my Love in Bedroom Hymns

Maia Age:28 

Sam age:31-32 

Dean age:35-36 

Roslyn age: 3 

Approximate year: 2014-2015 

Approximate season: 10 

TW!: SMUT, Cussing, depression, self-harming behavior (I don't condone or recommend, it's terrible), Alpha!Demon!Dean

Maia: 

Roslyn is three years old now. She grows so fast. Bringing her home from the hospital was no walk in the park. I had a lot to learn even with my built in Omega-mommy skills. There were tons of restless nights and don't even get me started on the teething! Raising a pup is definitely a team effort, Dean and I switching off so one of us can get some kind of sleep. Sometimes it was even a pack-wide effort. But I feel like I've gotten the hang of things by now. I'm so glad I have a multitude of cups of coffee to keep my engine running throughout the day. We moved into this inherited Bunker not too long ago, just last year I think it was? I like the layout, tons of rooms and a huge kitchen so I can actually learn how to cook something edible. It's like a maze down here. The only thing I hate about it is that there aren't any windows to the outside. I miss looking out the glass on rainy days. Oh well, It's easy for me to lose track of time. 

I was so relieved that, on the day that shook my core, Ros had stayed the weekend at Bobby's. I was sitting at the mapped table reading through some of the archived Greek literature books from the library of the bunker, late at night when I felt this terrible searing pain in my neck, where Dean's claim was. Sam told Dean to stop hunting but they never did. Can't take the hunter out of the Alpha after all. Now they were trying to stop the new big-baddie, Metatron. Dean, my poor Galahad was afflicted by this dumb Mark-of-Cain thing.  

But not even that would drag me away from him. We're soulmates. Dean tried to push me away from him but that only made me love him harder. I wasn't going to let him think that after all we've been through, that I was going to let some dumb scar come between us. 

The pain in my neck grew and grew like someone had been cauterizing it. I looked at it as best I could in a mirror but it was fading away. It felt like smoke slipping through my fingers, unable to grab it back. I wasn't a worry-wort or negative-Nancy but I knew something was gravely wrong. i called Dean's phone and all I got was a snooty answering machine and a dial tone. I must have called him twenty times before I went to Sam's phone. I left tons of messages on his cell and other cells he had.  

"Sam! What the Hell is going on?! Dean always answers when I call. My claim is breaking, please I'm terrified. I don't know what's happening. Call me back or text me fuck's sake, you have your hands off the wheel anyway." 

"Gods-dammit, Sam. How many of these do I have to leave? I thought you were the smarter one? I'm gonna slash you up when you guys get home!" I ended the phone call, with my blood boiling. I checked on my claim again, the last raised bump fading within seconds, into smooth skin. Like it had never happened. What the fuck is going on? I prayed to Cas multiple times and he didn't answer me either. Not even a poof or a flap of those unruly feathers.  

I sat with my head in my hands and started to cry when I heard the distinctive creak of the front door of the Bunker come open. I was beyond pissed. So I let loose. 

"Sam!! Where in the fuck have you guys been? It's 2 o'clock in the morning. You've better smote the shit out of this dick-bag Angel or I'm going to explode." I turned to see Sam carrying Dean down the steps. My mate's body was limp, he had gashes on his face, now pale. And I could smell iron in the air. Whatever it was it must have been a rough fight. My hand covered my mouth and I started to cry. Who dares to hurt my Alpha? My mind was down playing the scene. Sam looked exhausted and his eyes were red and puffy like he'd been weeping for a while.  

I followed them down to our room where Sam set his body down. His clothes covered in patches of his own blood. A deep hole burrowed into his chest.  

"Wh- wh- what happened??? Alpha? D-dean Winchester you better answer me! Wake up!" I slapped his face for good measure. His head cast to the side and didn't bounce back. It was then that I knew he was gone. I wept into his cold chest for hours, gripping where my claim used to be, until Sam came and pried me off him.  

It was easy for Sam to do judging by my small size and my natural Omega-ness. I could smell the liquor on Sam's breath. I never knew him to be much of a heavy drinker. Usually he'd share a beer or two with dean on occasion.  

With the door closed I couldn't bring myself to open it again for any reason. I cried myself to sleep. Only getting about three hours of Z's. I slept on the cold ground of the bunker unable to let myself be soothed by the softness of a bed. I heard Sam gathering supplies and keeping them down in the basement part of the bunker. He stayed there for a while. I didn't know what he was up to but I didn't care about anything.  

How am I going to tell this to Roslyn? I can't just say, 'Daddy's dead.' At that thought I broke even further, the reality sinking down deeper, bringing me to the bottom of the coldest seas.  

I thought about dying and all the different ways I could have done it. I knew where the silver bullets were stashed. Maybe I could take one of the cars from the garage and wrap it around a tree trunk? I couldn't bring my cowardly Omega ass to do any of it because of Ros. She still needs me. She can't lose both her parents at the same time.  

So to feel something once the sobbing had stopped I took one of my claws and made line after line of shallow cuts from my wrist to my elbow. I watched as the red beaded up to the surface to form a line.  

Dawn came and Sam was standing over me. I knew he was there but I didn't acknowledge his presence. I began to cut myself again and Sam held me up by my mutilated arm, examining it and my state of mind. I was crying, again, from shame.  

Sam lifted me up, one of his arms firm underneath my knees. He carried me to his bedroom, where I was nearly choked out by the intense pine smell. He put me on his bed. I stared at the fresh blood I had created trickling down from my wrist onto Sam's sheets.  

He'd undressed himself, wearing only boxers. And joined me in bed. If he wanted to claim and ruthlessly knot me so hard that I couldn't walk for three days, I would have been fine with that. But he didn't do either. Instead he licked my wounds to heal them. Apparently some Alpha's saliva has minor healing properties.  

We'd slept in his bed like normal impossibly broken people. Shattered into little tiny sharp shards. We picked each other's pieces up, little by little. Since I was now sharing Sam's bed, I had to bathe myself in scent blockers. I didn't want Roslyn getting the wrong idea and start calling Sam her dad instead. During the day I would put on a faux brave face for my daughter but at night when she was out like a light I would break again. Returning to Sam's bedroom, engulfing myself in pine and resorting to making slices in my arm. Sam would lick my wounds, so that Ros wouldn't see that I'd hurt myself.  

This was the routine for a while. Brave mask in the morning, Pine and blood at night. I was so broken that I didn't have room for tears anymore, just chronic dull numbness. My heats were back to a monthly cycle once Ros was born. So Sam was apprehensive the night my heat hit, without Dean's claim to protect me.  

When I'd just finished carving myself up, waves of fever wracked my body. I tried hard to muffle my ecstasy filled moans, not wanting to wake Roslyn a few rooms over. I managed to remove all my clothing. My slick covering my inner thighs and making a mess on his bed.   

I didn't even try to masturbate, knowing it would only make my heat worse. Every inch of my body was covered in a layer of sweat. Sam came in. All it took was the opening of the door and a waft of my thick strawberry scent and a look of my naked form to send him into rut.  

He'd closed the door and locked it. He took he clothes off down to his boxers and let his form overshadow me. His pine scent was purely intoxicating. It made me moan louder. He licked my wounds, like he did every night, but this time it was different. I made my core twitch with want. Once all the little cuts were healed up, he'd looked at my face, hazed over with need, my cheeks flushed and burning.  

"Must you make me beg?" I asked breathily. I knew even after all this time and his attempted rape, deep down, buried beneath all that debris, Sam had genuine feelings for me. With the obstacle gone, why not sprint for first place and get that gold trophy? He took the bait, unable to resist.  

He smashed his lips against mine into a sloppy, wet, kiss. I moaned softly into his flesh. I could feel his member aching to be inside me. He raked his clothed cock against my slickness. And nibbled at the right side of my neck, the opposite side of where Dean's claim had been. I could feel his fangs start to sink in, pricking into my skin. But he let go, instead moving down to my breast, taking my aroused and hardened nipple into his mouth. Biting the nub forcefully. His hand slithered down and found my folds.  

Long fingers dragging up and down my strawberry scented slick drenched core. He started to play with my clit when he stopped completely. Sam's style was rougher than Dean's. so I could only imagine what it was like with him in bed, and I wanted more. My heart skipped a beat at thinking about the size of his knot, wanting it to be at my base. Sam sat at the edge of the bed, contemplating.  

I came over to his back, looking over every toned muscle wrapped my arms through his and hugged his back tight to my breasts. I kissed his vertebrae where it met the bottom of his neck, that's as far as I could go with my height deficit. His long hair ticking my nose.I didn't want him to feel like I saw him as just happenstance. Just another Alpha opportunely placed in my path when I was feeling the absence of Dean. 

"Whatever is happening between, us, It's real." I tried to make him listen to truth. His hand touched mine and he'd escaped my hug. Grabbing his jeans and his plaid shirt. "Sam!" I started to plead. 

"I got to take a shower. Don't want her smelling you on me." He said leaving me in his room. Rejection again, by my second Winchester, for different circumstances. I don't understand, he was the one who had it going for me first and for a long time before I was finally sharing feelings for him. And now he won't take me up on my offer? Am I that much of a complicated Omega? That every man I've been with has to have a moral dilemma just to realize that they love me? 

He practically treats Roslyn as his own, especially after Dean's death. But he's tentative with that also, it's almost like he knows something I don't. Is there a secret he isn't telling me? I can't read Sam as easily I could Dean. And that frustrates the Hell out of me. Regardless he should know that he can talk to me. About Gods-damned anything. For the remainder of my heat that week he never joined me in his bed, so I resorted to wearing long sleeve shirt in the swelter of summer to hide my cuts. He took out his rut on vanquishing some Alphas who'd smelled me near by the bunker.  

Another month has passed since our buzz-kill. We haven't talked much since then. I started set out some of his favorite books for him since he got into that fight with some random demon, rendering his shoulder useless for time being. it was a bit funny seeing his arm slung up in that ridiculous looking fabric contraption. I continued my nightly ritual of scraping my claw against my flesh. Maybe if I do this often enough it'll leave dark lines? Tonight, I could feel my heat hitting again, with the blazing of sundown. Ros was fast asleep and Sam came in joining me in the kitchen. I was just finishing up washing dirty dishes that I made from a late dinner smorgasbord that I prepped for myself. The famous glutton-phase, numero-uno at the beginning of my heat.  

I inhaled his Pine, this is probably the last time I'm going to smell it tonight. Saddened by the thought of him leaving me, I extended my index claw and began my macabre work on the lines, digging in a bit deeper this time.  Sam growled low, his steps were full of purpose. He grabbed my bleeding arm and spun me around, pinning my lower back into the edge of the sink.  

"Maia! Stop this. Stop hurting yourself! Do you have any idea how disappointed seeing you like this makes me? What if you cut too deep and I'm not here? Cas is sick and out of the question. What if Ros found you, blacked out?" His pine was so overbearing now, it was hard for me to focus.  

"You don't think I haven't thought that through already? I can't stop. I can't stop it. Sam, can you help me feel something? Anything that isn't this noose around my neck? Don't you love me just a little?" Sam was a man of few words when it came to his way of loving. Instead he let his actions talk for him. He licked my fresh wounds until they'd healed. I kissed his lips needing that kind of tenderness from him. breaking the kiss I sucked in, he hasn't been this close to me in a month. I let his scent fall into my lungs and on the exhale I had to clench my legs together. I let out a controlled moan. I braced myself on the edge of the sink. My insides tightening and trembling for him.  

His eyes were mesmerizing like a bright kaleidoscope of hazel. He initiated more contact first. I didn't want to influence him, I needed us to be transparent. He sucked at the right side of my neck and slipped his free hand under my shorts and underwear, grabbing a fistful of ass. I was panting against his kneading touch, feeling my slick get thicker. I knew he could smell me.  his jeaned member present and grinding against my clothed slit. 

He left a hickey on my neck, marking it. I let out very breathy moans, needing to be quiet. He growled, leaving a sloppy kiss on my lips. His warmth left my ass cheek, making me think he was going to stop for the night a leave, again. Instead he held out his hand, "I know a place where we can be loud." I took it without hesitation and he walked me down past darkened corridors into the garage of the Bunker.  

He had some difficulty taking the Impala keys out of his breast-pocket but got it eventually. He opened up the back before he let me hop in, he raked a loving hand through my hair his eyes locking with mine.  

"Sam? You know this is real, right? We're authentic." I needed him to hear that. to know that our feelings weren't sparked out of our shared grief alone. he gave me a small smile and leaned down, his back bending, giving me a sweet- pine filled smooch. That's a yes. I took my shirt and shorts off, leaving my sandals next to the rear passenger tire. My undergarments were lacy and red. 

I helped out, gimpy, and took his pants off. I kissed and nibbled at his light stubble on his Adam's apple when I unbuttoned each of his buttons on his plaid shirt. That made him buck into me and send his free hand exploring into my underwear. He inserted one digit, making me gasp at the sudden penetration and wanting much more than just that. I took off his sling to completely remove his shirt and then replaced the odd contraption.  

He took out his finger and licked it clean, the look in his eyes as he did made me mewl against his chest. He let me get in first and he followed closing the door. I sat down in the middle like I normally would, my skin making contact with the cold leather seat. My cheeks were flushed again and I was near trembling. I scooted my butt forward in the seat, bringing my center to the forefront and resting the back of my neck against the edge of the seat.  

He kissed me again but this time he was much more forceful, letting his control slip a little. He ended the kiss by biting my lower lip, possessively and thrusting two digits as deep as they could go into my slick ridden vagina. I moaned loud, not worrying about anyone hearing my sex-filled moans. He was knuckle deep, curling his fingers in and out making me shudder and gasp with each aggressive thrust.  

"Got to stretch you out a little, I'm big and your damn, tight." He explained. I moaned getting excited at the thought of him filling me. I whimpered, missing his touch when he removed his fingers and turned around grabbing something from the glove box of the Impala. I took this opportunity to remove my undergarments and cast them to the floor of the car. He turned around, taking in the scenery. I didn't conceal any part of me, opening my legs for him. he seemed a bit shocked by this at first with my straightforwardness, but his gaze quickly returned to a rut-filled haze. 

he tore a small foil package with his teeth, a condom. A flash of anger came across my features and took it from him throwing it, landing in the far reaches of the dashboard. I embraced his scalp with both hands and kissed his lips. he growled sexily at my actions.He'd gotten more ridged both with his actions and where it mattered. I helped him take off his boxers and he sat down next to me.  

"Ladies first." he insisted wanting me to act as the top, or at the very least equal. maybe this was to do with his length and girth. It made my mouth water. I straddled myself on top him, guiding my hand down to position him at my entrance. I lowered myself down on him, the slick helped but I could still feel just how different having another man inside me was. It wasn't necessarily better than Dean just different.  

He moaned from the pressure. His head scraped against my cervix, making me whimper. In all honesty it hurt a little bit, but with the pheromones flowing through my veins and my heated state I didn't mind some pain mixed with pleasure. Unable to hold back any longer, he used his free hand to grab at my shoulder pinning me to him and forcefully bucked deeper into me. Deeper than I even thought possible, his head dipping into my cervix, making me see entire galaxies. 

"Ahh! Sam." He kept at a relentless pace, each thrust harder than the last, more passionate. I felt his knot swell at my base, ready to burst. I dragged my tongue across his scars displayed on his chest, the ones Dean gave him. My walls clench down like a vice. He lifted his torso off the backseat away from a resting position. his hand cradling the base of my neck and dragging it in. His knot locked inside me and load after sweet boiling load released into my deepest parts. Not wasting another second he sunk his fangs into the flesh of the right side of my neck, claiming me. I'd screamed, climaxing from the combination of his knot, seed, and pine intoxicating me all at once. We sat there panting out our arousals, still connected for about half an hour. He lapped the blood away from his claim but made sure not to touch the puncture marks, wanting them to scar over. We waited for his knot to calm down before talking.  

"I've waited a long time for this." He said rubbing my cheek with his thumb, his eyes mulling over my beauty. "Doesn't feel real, but I'm happy it is." I smiled back at him, moaning and wincing from his exit.  

"Me too. I need a shower." I definitely smell like him now. Both of us wanted to start round two but were unable to with the possibility of Roslyn waking up in the middle of the night. We left the Impala in her steamed state and headed off to the shower stalls. Oh man, I'm going to feel this in the morning. Together we bathed, needing each other as support. Me nursing his gimp shoulder and him, making sure the shower water didn't sting my fresh claim. it was a miracle at all that we by the end of the cleaning we didn't still smell like each other. Now dressed, we headed off to the bedroom section of the Bunker. We stopped at his room. He landed a kiss on my forehead.  

"Don't hurt yourself anymore." he said, demandingly, already exerting his Alpha nature onto his new mate. I gave him a weak smile, "Okay. Good night." That was the one thing I don't think I can promise. I'm going to sleep very solidly tonight. He rubbed my cheek with is thumb again.  

" 'Night. 'Mega." Hearing him utter my dynamic, really felt like setting our actions in stone. It felt good and right. should I feel guilty for this? Being my recently deceased mate's , whom I've bore a pup with, brother? my omega instinct was telling me, no I shouldn't be ashamed. Dean died. It wasn't really cheating after all, was it? it was too late to get cold feet now. I hopped into my bed in my room, cocooning, I was starting to get too much in my own head. I couldn't help but place a hand on the crook of my left neck, where Dean's claim used to be. I wanted to cut, but didn't so I had my fill of crying until I fell asleep. 

The next morning felt so odd to me, because it was like there was a light-switch that had been flipped on inside my brain. For the first time in a very long time, I felt happy. Dean and I had bonded through our emotions, I and Sam, however bonded intellectually. Not to say that Dean was dumb, he wasn't. Just the way Sam and mine brain operated was different than his. Dean thinks...thought with his heart. Sam puts that pre-law beautiful nerdy mind to work constantly. He needs to do that actually otherwise, he'd be bored out of his wits. Sam is governed by reason and thought.  

I was the first person up, getting some pancakes ready for Roslyn, those were her current favorite. In a few more weeks she'd have some other favorite fad to please her palette. Pups, Gods help me.  I was sipping on some coffee and got Ros up, heaving her groggy little booty out of bed and putting her in her high-chair. It was hard to get her to eat, even though she liked the stuff. She only ate about half of it, but I settled for that. In another three hours she'd only be tugging at my leg wanting more food. Her little face scrunched up in a frustrated manner. Sam, finally out of his slumber came in, fixing himself a cup of coffee from the batch I made. 

"What's up buttercup?" I asked Ros, she has been talking for a little while. Mostly baby nonsense talk that only people who were close to her could comprehend. but other than that she can string very minor sentences together to get her point across. I tucked her fine hair out of her face and behind her ear. It hurt to see Dean's eyes reflected in those tiny eye sockets and his freckles on her face.  

"Bored. Wanna play hide seek. Miss Daddy." I smiled as hard as I could, because that sentence coupled with the look on her face made me hurt so damned bad. Sam was silent, turned around tending to his coffee. "Daddy will be home soon, pumpkin. I promise."  her eyes tensed on me. 

"Wiar." Liar. I almost broke right then and there. but I used that hurt to heave myself out of the kitchen chair and pick her up.  

"Somebody needs a nap, huh grumpy-face?" I told her. she didn't say anything back. I put her back to bed and rubbed her back and hummed Landslide to soothe her to sleep. that worked every time. I closed her door without a sound and Sam was in the hallway staring at me, looking guilty. I walked away from her door and collapsed down into Sam's chest, a bawling mess. 

"Sam, how are we gonna fix this?" I asked him, not knowing where else to turn. He sighed but didn't answer me. He kissed his claim, the flesh still tender. Sam gave me some room, knowing I needed time to think and stir. I let my emotions fester inside me before settling down and coming to streamline. The morning faded into the night-time and I had noticed Sam's laptop open and a tab closed down. Sitting next to his laptop a stack of papers, notes upon notes of demonology.  

I skimmed through them, not thinking much of it until I saw he'd written a sentence. how to become a demon with an anti-possession tattoo? Why was he so invested in this? I thought he was keeping hunting to a minimum with his shoulder. at least that's what he told me. I tried opening the window but of course it was password protected. with a tiny security question to answer.  

Circles infinity expecting differently. I mulled it over for a little while before cracking it. Insanity! Circles being a cycle, for infinity so repeating the same actions over and over expecting a different outcome. It's the famous saying from Einstein, and the definition of insanity. You'd think Sam would have thought of something more difficult? 

The file was titled, 'Gas-n-sip footage DD'. That's weird. maybe he's stumped on a case? since I cracked his riddle, I can help him with this. I clicked on the file and view the video. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, just some guy looking over the magazines on one isle. almost all Gas-n-sips are the same, so seeing this brought back memories of before the Mill. Crazy to think how much my life has changed since then.  

another man came on the screen and caught my attention. He had bowed out legs and dressed a bit plainly, with a cap on. The taller man suddenly attacked the other one and threw him into the shelf, for no reason. He looked right at the camera and I froze in place. I'd know that face anywhere. it was Dean, in the flesh. No can't be, has to be a shifter or something, right? for a second his eyes flashed, pure black like they'd been covered in soot. and then returned to normal. I closed the laptop horrified, appalled, excited, elated, terrified for Dean, and then livid. I took Sam's laptop and ran to his room where he was sleeping.  

I threw it purposely on his shoulder making him wake from the pain. I mounted him and pounded on his chest. "How long? How long did you know?! You told me he was DEAD! He's alive! Breathing. Walking. and a black eyed fool!" by the end I put my forehead to his, headbutting. I shouldn't have done it because it hurt like hell.  

I dismounted him, falling to the floor with a thud. He got up from bed, sitting with me on the floor.  

"I haven't known for long, only a few days. I was going to tell you. I just didn't know how. I'm afraid of losing you. I thought, if you knew, you'd go running back to him and leave me. Everyone leaves. Go! Go see what he's become!" he said his mood changing mid-speech. 

I grabbed his face in both my palms, surprising him with my actions. I kissed his forehead, the way he did to me. "I can't leave you. I won't. Mates for life. That goes for dean too. I'll be back. I need to go rescue my Galahad Sam. Can you do me a favor, and don't follow me? Watch over Roslyn, please. If something goes wrong, I have you on speed dial." I had a mission now, a purpose.  

Sam closed his eyes savoring my touch and thinking through my promise.  

"Come back in one piece." he demanded from me. "Always." I answered my new lover, before giving him a kiss tasting his pine. I gathered my things quickly, packing a demon knife and all the love and courage I could muster within me. I took one of the random working vehicles from the garage and drove to the Black Spurs bar pulling in to the a parking spot and turning off the engine. I exhaled, Zeus give me strength, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. Here goes nothing. I exited the vehicle and locked it, keeping aware of my surroundings. I'm walking into a demon bar, where there are guaranteed to be Alphas of some kind.  

Demons are not below rape, if anything they are encouraged by it. I'm still in my heat cycle so the fact that I'm still standing in this musky cesspool is a miracle. Maybe Sam's claim helped me out with that? I swung the door open, my only goal being to find Dean. The music stopped every pair of eyes on me and my Omega body. the music returned and some of the Alphas nearby were calling for me. 

"Come over here, 'mega, wanna ride this pony, cowgirl?" the first alpha whistled. 

"Got a fat knot, waiting for ya, Darling!" One fisted his clothed dick in my direction. I gave him the bird, not exactly intimidating considering my tiny fingers. 

"We can fuck that cunt, two for one discount, Baby-gal. Awhoooooo." Another mock-howled banging on the chest of his buddy. 

I didn't acknowledge them at all. instead payed attention to Dean, seeing his back turned to me. he had a red shirt on and jeans, boots. His hair grown out a little and combed over semi-neatly. I could smell the liquor that emanated from him as I closed the space between us.  he was sucking face with a blonde. I crossed my arms and dragged my tongue across my canine. 

"Didn't know they made Barbie the black-eyed-bitch edition. Must be new." that got her attention. She broke the kiss, get your filthy lips off my man. Dean laughed, entertained by my insult. I let my eyes pierce into his, wanting  to peer into his soul, if there was one left. 

"Why don't you get your own knot, you reek of sex, Omega slut." I wasn't going to show weakness, especially not here. plus the fact that I was already vexed. I took the demon blade out of my black suit jacket, pinned her hand to the table and impaled it to the wood, making her scream. for good measure I made sure she would need plastic surgery to fix that up-turned nose of hers. Feeling it break underneath my knuckles.  

Dean was smiling from ear to ear, revealing his perfect rows of teeth. He whistled after taking another shot of liquor.  

"You, me- need to fuck. Right now. You make me all tingly when you take control like that, M." just hearing his voice again, made me so happy but I knew the fact that him being here for all this time and not in the Bunker meant something was astray. He rose from his seat. I couldn't tell if the whiskey scent was coming from his body or the exuberant amount of alcohol he'd been consuming. His hand took mine and led me out of the bar, I needed his touch so much. What have they done to you, Love?  

He took me across the street to a dingy looking motel. He took me into his arms, bridal style. Shifting his weight to one foot, he kicked the door in. He set me down on the bed and topped me. Taking the collar of my jacket into his hands dragging me up to meet his lips I could taste the poison on his lips, still lingering. I couldn't help but moan into him. I had missed him for so long and that made a deadly combo with my heat being active at the moment. He was rougher than usual, like he'd lost his inhibitions.  

"That's what I like to hear." His hands stroked down the fabric of my jacket, reaching the juncture of the button that connected the two sides, and jerked ripping the button off. I wasn't going to let my heat distract me from why I came here. he took my heels off along with his reddish-rusty colored jacket and black shirt. he unzipped my jeans with his teeth, growling at the scent of my slick beneath them. 

"Dean, we need to talk." I said. He undid the metal button of my jeans and licked at my clothed slit, making me moan again. He descended and hopped off the bed taking the bottom of my jeans and tugging them off my legs. He cast off his boots and yanked his pants down enough to where his length fell out, slapping firm against the base of his stomach.  

"Sure, let the skin do the talkin', Baby." He said in a lustful tone, returning to the bed. The abused springs creaking under our combined weight. I was already slick as all Hell. So he wouldn't need to prep me or anything. Before that plane could come in for a landing, I needed to get my point across before I wasn't able to talk. he started to remove my silky pink underwear. I need to say it now. 

"Dean! You died. and came back, why not come home? Do you miss me at all? Or Ros?" He had begun working on eating me out, taking in my slick with an aggressive appetite. I felt waves of heat wash over me. Fucking Cerberus in a handbasket! I couldn't lose track of my objective. I stared at him through the valley of my breasts, needing his answer, before I couldn't make conscious thought. 

He was staring back at me, his tongue scraping at my walls. His eyes were filled with rut and then turned as black as coal in a millisecond. My chest heaved and my heart was drumming in my body, pumping my heat through me. Out of my core, down through my thighs and into my toes, making them curl. I was close to cumming, feeling my heat searing into my cheeks. He still had enough Dean in him to tease me, like old times and didn't give me a chance to release. he licked my slick off his lips and stalked further up to me.  

He looked at me like prey. His eyes still blackened. He swallowed, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck.  

" 'Course I do. What I can't take a vacation? Oh, am I scaring you sweetheart? Want the green ones back? Personally I prefer these. Think they look better on me." He answered. I was about to open my mouth when. His bullshit reply made me angry I took his throat in my grip, my claws scraping with his skin.   

"I'm not afraid, I'm sad. This isn't you. Death is no holiday, it's finite! I felt your claim sever!!" I let my feeling spill out. He cackled against my grip. His eyes returning to the shade of green that I adored and knew so well.  

"Welcome to the Dark-side, death is only a new beginning, Maia." His brows furrowed for a second. Laughing again but it sounded more like a scoff. He grabbed at my neck with one hand to pull me up to him so he could take my jacket off. He threw it, landing on a lampshade, darkening the room a bit. He set my neck down, and put his lips next to my right ear. His hand stroked at Sam's claim.  

"Somebody's getting on the naughty list this year. You think I couldn't smell him on you? Taste him inside you? It's pretty sad really. He gave you a pity fucking. And This ain't no pity fuck." he  said making his eyes return to black. He plunged himself into me, making gasp after gasp escape me. His fangs extended and tore into the left side of my neck. His Whiskey coursed throughout my entire body, spreading from cell to microscopic cell. The claiming hurt but it felt exhilarating at the same time. My veins were filled with Pine and Whiskey melting into my own strawberry scent. A potent triquetra. Throughout the sex, I felt something burn into my wrist. I stared at it and watched dark lines, as if someone was giving me a tattoo, form a symbol I had never seen before. I noticed the same thing sting itself into dean's wrist. on the same spot. 

Dean knotted himself into me more times than I could count. He fucked me senseless, ultimately and literally reclaiming what was rightfully his. At some point I had passed out. I woke up to find Dean snoring next to me. My eyes welled up but I couldn't let myself cry. I got up from the motel bed and collected my things and left. I forgot that I drove here, unable to focus on anything but what had just happened.  

I limped down the highway, the night and moon still high in her resting place among the stars.  Dean screwed me so hard it made walking a challenge. I don't remember how long I walked down the desolate road, casting my feet between the two yellow lines. I felt more numb than I had ever been. My mission had failed and I don't know how to fix Dean. I'm back at square one. I flopped down on to the cold blacktop staring into the dark abyss, a halo of white light ringed around the full moon. I closed my eyes, waiting for a car to come and crush me under its tires. I felt so used. I hate what heat makes me, lets me accept. my phone rang multiple times but I ignored it.  

I watched the moon creep across Nyx's cloak. Until bright lights made me wince and screeching tires skidded to a halt, stopping in the knick of time. A heavy door opened and closed. Boots running heavy across the asphalt. a warm hand caressing my cheek. Pine filling my nostrils and lungs.  

"Maia?! What happ-" he stopped mid-sentence, his glossy hazel eyes noticing two claims, one for each side. I lost it, tears searing stains into my cheeks. "Take me home, Sam, please." I begged. that was the one thing I was good for, begging. I begged for love. I begged for happiness. I begged for knots. Sam got me into the passenger seat ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he rose me from the ground. I kept staring at the moon on the way to the Bunker.  

Alphas, Omegas- such an overrated shit-show. 

End chapter 11. Start Arc B of series. 

Quote: 

"And I've moved further than I thought I could  But I missed you more than I thought I would  And I'll use you as a warning sign  That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind 

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be  Right in front of me  Talk some sense to me" 

-'I found,'-Amber Run 

Quote: 

"The sweetest submission  Drinking it in  The wine, the women, the bedroom hymns" 

-'Bedroom Hymns,'-Florence + the Machine 

[ghostcombustion]

Alone Again

Eddie Munson x Gn!MayfieldReader

It's not confirmed Eddie's gonna die, but like I'm 99% sure he won't make it, so before anything is confirmed, I thought it would be fun to write a little Eddie Oneshot ;) btw this is uneditted

Summary : After the events of season 4, Y/n is lost. Based on the song Alone Again by Gilbert O'Sullivan

Mentions : popular x loner trope, angst, slight sexual content

Word Counts : 896 words

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Things were off. Maybe it was the outside world, or perhaps it was just you.

After all the shit went down, you and Steve left for a good while. There was no real plan, but you both needed to get out. So you did. You two left without telling anyone.

Most nights ended with the two of you crying into each other arms. The guilt was building up and slowly overfilling. A majority of the time, you guys stayed in a multitude of hotels and just cuddled with the tv playing in the background.

The two of you understood each other's feelings. Both of you had lost someone who meant the world to you guys.

Max Mayfield was an extraordinary young lady who had such a bright future ahead of her. More importantly, she was your baby. Since the day she was born, you knew you were blessed to have such a lovely younger sister.

After the death of Billy, things started to change. Both of you tried to avoid the topic and tried to be happy. But it was just too hard.

Vecna had gotten both of you. First, it was Max, but thankfully you at least remember her favorite song. Then it was you when you and the other teens were trapped in the upside-down. You were so close to getting out too. Eddie managed to save you though. There was no music player so instead, he started singing your favorite song.

God, you loved him.

Everything that happened before total hell broke loose seemed like a blur to you. Then Vecna got a hold of Max, and everything went wrong. What was worse is you were with her when it happened. You tried your best to put up a fight against Vecna, but he merely used his vines to trap you. All you could do was shout hopelessly as he clawed his fingers in her gorgeous blue eyes. The ones you had always been jealous of.

Then everyone started to drop one by one. Nancy, Argyle, Mrs. Wheeler, Robin, and Mike. After all of that death, you stupidly believed it would be over.

And then Vecna tried to get you again, but once again, Eddie pulled you out of your trance.

Eddie the Freak Munson, the one man you loved with all your heart. And you would tell anyone that. Of course, when the school found out, your popularity went down, but you didn't care. You loved him. You loved him so fucking much it hurt.

His chapped lips pressed against your own was something you fantasized about constantly. You thought about how his veiny hands would slide across your chest, and every time you would shiver when his cold metal rings would touch your bare skin. Especially how he could make your body lose complete control with a single touch. He knew all your sweet spots and used his skills to try and make you feel like you were in heaven. And he did. No other man could do that to you.

Eddie was different from everyone else in Hawkins. He understood you better than anyone else in the universe could. You didn't feel like you had to put a mask around him. Growing up with the other kids, you felt alone. You felt nothing you did was good enough and would never be. You didn't feel special. Then Eddie raondomly showed up at a party and the two of you hit it off.

Maybe it was the drunk sex you two had that night, but after that party, you were inseparable. You practically forced Steve to become his friend.

You couldn't fully remember what led up to it. All you knew was Steve held onto your body tightly. You punched, clawed, and did everything in the book to make him let go, but he didn't budge. Even Steve had tears falling down the side of his face as the bats swarmed around him, around the both of them.

They both put up a good fight and as much as the two of you wanted to assist them in it, it was too late. Steve could hardly stand because of how much blood he had lost and his body was so worn down it would only cause trouble. How well could you fight with a dislocated arm?

So the two of you tried to hop over to them. Maybe you guys could act as a distraction. But you guys were too weak to make it.

You recalled shouting his name at the top of your lungs as the bat took a large bite from his neck. His blood continued to soak his shirt, but he kept trying to play until they swarmed him.

And then it just had to get worse. Once Eddie's body had been left to bits, they turned to the curly-haired brunette. His death was swift though.

You and Steve stayed there for a while. Both of you cried out until nothing would come out. Then you made your way out of that horrid place.

It was crazy to think that just a few weeks prior, you were cheerful and excited for the future. Now you were a total mess. Just a random person wandering around. The only noticeable features were the greasy hair and large bags under your eyes.

And even with Steve there, you felt alone again.

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

Fugitive Houseguest - Part 2

Summary: OC falls for Eddie. Vecna tries to end the world while the party looks to stop him.

F! OC. 8293 Words. 

Part 2 of 2. Part 1 can be found here.

Warnings: MAJOR ST spoilers ahead. Explicit sex scene in part 1 (Minors DNI.) There is also a hinted at sexual situation in part 2 in which OC is not in their right mind, which may make some uncomfortable. ST-esq violence. Slut-shaming (talking about that moment from volume 1, which was not okay.) Food eating mentions. Cursing.

Authors Note: This started as a simple bandaid to cope with Volume 4. Definitely got away from me lol. It’s a fix it fic y’all!! As such you’ll see pretty clearly where I took some…artistic license to make the OC more central to the story. I hate myself sometimes I swear but this fic practically wrote itself. 😂 Much as I love my reader inserts, I felt that the protagonist in this fic just had too many specific traits to NOT be an OC. Also, some hints of OC X Billy and maybe even OC X Steve if you squint. This is part 2 of 2, no further installments currently planned.

Also, I am always looking for inspo, so I will absolutely take requests for one-shots, blurbs, and head canons. If you don’t have an idea and just wanna chat, that’s cool too! I promise I won't bite.

“Amilia?” Steve calls out in a panic, suddenly grabbing and shaking her shoulders in the Upside Down.

“Hey! Hey! Stay with me. Amilia! Hey! Amilia, wake up. Wake up! Amilia!” He starts to shout.

Above him in the real world the party hears him screaming, understanding washing over them as Max realizes aloud. “Vecna.”

And Vecna it is - he appears, distorted fingers wrapped around Amilia’s throat. But he’s being surprisingly gentle - and then the hand isn’t his anymore, it’s Eddie’s.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped loosely around her throat, and he’s kissing her like he might never stop.

“Wait,” she says against his lips. “Wait.”

He pulls back to look at her, lips swollen and face flushed. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He shifts his weight, trying to get up.

She locks onto him, not letting him go. “No…no…it’s nothing.” She promised him, kissing him again. 

The brief moment of confusion - of dread - of feeling like something was very very wrong, had passed as quickly as it came on. Now she just knew she wanted him.

Back with her physical body, Steve’s words fall on deaf ears. “Just stay with me. Stay with me, okay?” He murmurs, panic starting to strike at his veins. “Whatever you guys are doing, hurry up!” Steve shouts up.

Erica bolts into Eddie’s bedroom. “Steve says you need to hurry!” 

“Yeah, no shit!” Dustin screeches back, Max adding hysterically, “We’re trying we can’t find anything!”

“Seriously, what is all this shit?!?” Robin snapped as she threw one cassette after another.

“I mean what are you even looking for?” Eddie asked, hands full of their discarded labels.

“Madonna? Blondie? Bowie? Beatles? Music! We need music!” Robin yelled.

Eddie snatched the Iron Maiden cassette from her hands. “This. Is. Music!” He screamed.

“You guys this is not the time!” Nancy shouted, “Eddie, the only two surviving victims of Vecna could hear their favorite songs being played and snapped out of it.”

“Well why did no one fucking say that!” He blurted, shoving Dustin out of the way while snapping, “Stop touching shit.” Muttering loudly about Madonna, and Beatles while he scrambled to produce his Blizzard of Ozz tape.

With shaking hands Eddie shoved the tape in his cassette player in his room, keying up the right track.

“All aboard!” Wailed through the room almost immediately.

The gang displayed varying levels of exasperation. “What the fuck-” someone started to say at the same time that someone else whined, “Eddie-”

“Just trust me okay!” He snarls, cranking the music all the way up, to that decibel that made the neighbors mad.

Down in the portal, Steve is struggling to keep Amilia from lifting up into the air, whimpers of “No no no no no no,” falling from his lips when she slips from his grasp.

She stops kissing Eddie at the sound of a familiar song, lifting her head again. He lets out a small noise of annoyance this time. “What’s wrong now?” His words are ice cold. Wrong. Distorted.

Ozzy Osborne plays in the background. He can’t seem to hear it.

She starts to shove him off of herself, scrambling from beneath him. “Get off! Off!” 

Eddie complies, scowling, and Amilia shoved past him and through the bedroom door, bursting through it only to land in a red hued wasteland, thunder crackling in the distance.

She turns and the door is gone, Eddie is gone. It’s just Vecna, slinking toward her.

She can hear it all now past the music, the hush that’s fallen over the group, Steve cursing, begging, and Eddie. She hones in on him, buried beneath the soundtrack. 

“Come on baby, come back to me.” He’s murmuring in frustration.

In her own mind, she dashed in the direction opposite of Vecna, making a mad sprint for her friends where she could hear them. Bolting for a glimpse of a portal where she can see them, see herself, hovering above Steve.

The song cascades over her, Vecna tossing all manner of debris in the way to try and slow her down. She dodges it all, thinking it’s metal as hell. 

Then she bursts through - sucking in a sharp breath, eyes flying open as she slams back into her own body, gravity suddenly assaulting her.

“Holy fuck!” Steve grunts, catching her, the sudden weight knocking them both to the floor, gasping.

Her whole body is trembling in his arms as he brushes her hair back from her face, saying her name.

“Hey…hey…hey…you’re okay.” He insists when she blinks at him in confusion, reality settling over her.

Then his tone is teasing. “Heavy metal, huh? Who knew.”

Eddie had known. Crazy Train is still blasting above the portal, drowned out by the sound of several people shouting, asking Amilia if she's okay.

“I’m good!” She yells up weakly, to the sound of resounding cheers. The music cuts off. Someone is commending Eddie for his quick thinking but he’s not really paying attention.

His neck is craned up towards the gateway to The Upside Down, anxious. “You wanna try the climb again, sweetheart?” She hears him call out softly.

Steve helps her up again, and soon she’s dropping down onto Eddie’s filthy mattress.

He reaches out to her immediately, pulling her up and into a crushing hug before grasping her chin in his hand and tilting it upwards so he could plant a passionate kiss on her lips.

“Woah now, when the hell did that happen?” Dustin complained while Erica gagged, the rest looking on with wide eyes.

The two pull apart as Steve drops down behind them, Nancy pulling him to his feet while ordering, “Never mind that. That music wasn’t exactly quiet, we need to get out of here.” 

The group reconvenes at Max’s trailer, careful that Eddie isn’t spotted.

Eddie doesn’t stop touching Amilia, the whole time holding her hand and pressing fingers into the vein of her wrist. Feeling her pulse thrum satisfies him that she’s here, she’s here and she’s alive. All in one piece.

At least, physically anyways. “I know what he wanted from me. Dustin and Nancy’s suspicions about the portals being at each murder site were right. He's killed three times now, and made three gates - I was meant to be the fourth.”

“Four chimes.” Max says suddenly, eyes going wide at the realization.. “Vecna's clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

“I heard them too.” She tells her.

“He's been telling us his plan this whole time.” Max whispers.

“Four kills.” Lucas agrees. “Four gates…End of the world.”

Dustin’s hands are on his hips, voice somber. “If that's true…He's only one kill away.”

“Oh Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.” Eddie panics, his grip tightening around Amilia.

Nancy stands, pacing. “We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.” She tells all of them.

“Whoa, no, no, no.” Steve protests as Eddie shakes his head rapidly. “Nope. Nope.” He sides with Steve who jumps to his feet, adding. “Let's think this through.” 

“What is there to think through?” Nancy snaps.

“We barely made it out of there in one piece.” Steve argues back.

“Yeah, because we weren't prepared! But this time, we will be. We'll get weapons and protection. We'll go through the gate, we'll find his lair, and we'll kill him.” Nancy says with a confidence that’s inspiring - to a few.

��Or he'll kill us.” Steve scoffed. “He's not scared of us.”

Robin nods vigorously. “And for good reason. We were wrong about Vecna…Henry…One! Sorry, what are we calling him now?”

“One.” Dustin says at near the same time Erica says “Vecna.” Lucas agrees on “One,” and Nancy claimed “Henry.”

Robin nods rapidly. “Right. We've learned something new about Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One. He's a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But my…my point is, he's super powerful. Could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It's not a fair fight.” She panics.

“So then why fight fair?” Dustin points out. “You're right. He's like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven's strengths, and weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica asks snarkily.

“When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna.” Dustin explains.

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic.” Lucas blurts.

“Exactly. When he attacks his victim, I'll bet you he's back in that attic, physical body defenseless.” Dustin sounds practically giddy.

Steve almost rolls his eyes at that. “Defenseless? Yeah? What about the army of bats?” 

“Right. True. We'll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow.” Dustin says like it’s no big deal.

Eddie starts to stand, “And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?”

“No idea.” Dustin’s words make Eddie sit back down. “But once they're gone, he doesn't stand a chance. It'll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

“That all sounds good in theory, but there is no pattern to Vecna's killings. I mean at least not one that I can decipher.” Robin reminds everyone. “We don’t know where he’s going to attack next, we don’t know who he’s going to attack next-”

“Yeah we do.” Amilia blurts suddenly. A hush falls over the room, and she refuses to look at anyone. “I can still feel him.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Eddie prodded.

She glanced at Max. “Do you still have those drawings you made, of what you remember from before Vecna withdrew from you?”

Max nods, scrambling to find them. Ignoring the ones of the disassembled Creel house, she finds the drawing where two victims were suspended. 

In a mumble Max explained, “He’d strung up Chrissy and Patrick’s corpses to greet me.” 

“What’s going on with their faces? The expressions on their faces?” Amilia urges her, getting close enough to her that Lucas makes an involuntary step forward.

“Chrissy was…scared. Patrick was…furious.” Max admits.

She nods, suddenly standing, dictating to anyone. “Get me something to write with.”

Confused, Max complies. The group watches as Amilia turns the sheet over to its blank side and draws a large plus sign, with an arrowhead at the top tips of each line end.

Atop all but the top arrow, she writes emotions. To the left she writes Terror, with Rage to its right. Below the two, under the arrow pointing downwards, she writes Grief.

“When I was there Fred was with them. Vecna took him as a substitute for Max. He looked…Sad.” She explained, tapping the diagram.

“Why does that matter?” Max asked.

“Because I…when I passed them I could feel it. I could feel what they were feeling before they died. Chrissy was afraid. Patrick was angry. Fred felt…Fred felt how you had felt for Billy, only Fred didn’t have Kate Bush to snap him out of it.” She swallows. 

“And you? What were you feeling?” Erica asked.

A dreaded question. Amilia doesn’t want to tell them, but it’s burning her from the inside out. “I was happy.” She laughed bitterly, tears filling her eyes that she quickly brushed off with the back of her hand. “Can you believe that?”

“Happy? Happy we were leaving the Upside Down?” Robin questioned.

“Or happy we were in it to begin with, you goddamn weirdo.” Steve breathed tiredly, like he’d already accepted that.

She shakes her head rapidly, pressing her knuckles on both hands into her head. “No, no you don’t understand. It wasn’t…it wasn’t being in the Upside Down. Or escaping it.”

She drops her hands in defeat. While she’d figured it out, she wished she hadn’t. She doesn’t want to admit this right now.

“So what, what was it?” Lucas blurts.

“What the hell made you so happy that Vecna tried consuming you?” Nancy accused.

“It’s…it was Eddie.” She mumbles.

“Eddie?!?” Dustin blurts at the same time that the man’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me?”

“I…can I talk to you, alone for a second?” She whispers, her face flushed.

“Guys, we don’t have time for this.” Nancy argues. “You need to be straight up with us.”

She looks at the floor, not wanting to do this with an audience. “I was climbing the rope. You were smiling at me, and I had just heard your breathless little mutter of how fun it was. And I think, when I dropped through the portal that, that was the moment…And I think I fell in love with you, right there.”

The room goes dead silent.

Eddie stands, his body rigid and tone hushed as he asks. “You love me?”

She nods shamefully. He opens his mouth, nothing comes out.

Robin takes the pen - adds a word to the final arrow jutting from the diagram: Ecstasy. 

Amilia can’t even look at Eddie. He stares at her. She explains, “This is why I became the last piece of the puzzle. Because that…feeling was the hardest to find. It’ll be the hardest to replicate, and so now that he’s found it, he isn’t letting go. I-I can still feel him. I'm still marked.”

She heaves a deep sigh, telling them all her plan. “So that’s why I ditch Ozzy, I draw his focus back to me.”

“No!” Eddie blurts.

“You can't.” Steve agrees. “He'll kill you.”

She vehemently disagrees. “I survived before. I can survive again. I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic…Then you can chop his head off or whatever it takes.”

“We’re not doing that.” Eddie growls.

“It’s only a matter of time before he gets me, anyway.” She tried to explain.

Eddie’s eyes are burning. “I’ll tear him apart limb from limb before I ever let that happen.”

“Eddie,” Dustin protests. “She’s got a point.”

“No!” He wailed. “There has to be another way.”

“I say we vote.” Erica says, rationally.

“This isn’t a fucking democracy!” Eddie growls.

“And you don’t own her just because she happens to love you, you stupid freak!” Erica shouts back.

“So we vote.” Nancy insists, cutting between the two.

“We vote.” Lucas agrees, arms crossed across his chest.

“All in favor?” Amilia asked, watching as Nancy, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, and her all raise their hands.

“That’s five for, four against. You guys are outnumbered.” Dustin pityingly tells Eddie, Robin, Max, and Steve, all with their own reasons for doubting the plan.

Still it’s Eddie it hurts. He makes a move to storm out of the trailer, realizes he can’t, and then storms into the closest room he can, slamming the door shut.

“We need to get supplies.” Nancy explains, looking at Amilia sadly. And to be pitied by Nancy Wheeler….well, that was a new low for her.

“Do you think you can get him on board?” Steve asks.

“I’ll try my best.” She sighs, heading off where he went.

When she enters the room Eddie is sitting on the bed. His head is buried in his hands, his whole body practically vibrating with anger at this latest development.

Amilia’s not sure if she should touch him or not, not wanting to feel the cold brush of his rejection after her confession.

But Eddie surprises her, head still downed when he hears her enter, not having to look to know who’s coming after him. He reaches one hand out and wiggles his ringed fingers in her direction. “Come here.” He orders.

She takes a step forward, close enough for him to slip his hand into hers, pulling her down and into his lap, face buried in her neck.

The two sit that way for a while, until Eddie finally sighs in reluctant acceptance. “I guess there’s no changing your mind.” 

“None.” She agreed.

Eddie tries to smile, stroking his fingers along the length of her arm. “I don’t know…I think I can be pretty persuasive.” He teases lightly, pressing an attentive kiss to her neck that makes her clench her thighs together.

“There are children here.” She warns him lightly.

“Don’t care.” He jokes, then lets out a little chuckle in wonder. “…God, what are you doing to me?” He asks rhetorically before he lays her down, kissing her all over.

“Still not going to change my mind.” She insists, unconvincingly. 

Eddie chuckles. “At least let me try…I’d like to think my persuasive skills go beyond just making you fall for me despite all the obvious red flags.”

She stiffens beneath him, swallowing tightly. “Eddie…I…I’m sorry.” Tears threaten to spill once again. Tears of embarrassment and shame. 

“Don’t be. I’m not.” He promises, wiping them away, letting out a frustrated breath. “Look, I may not exactly be right where you are, like emotionally, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” He nuzzled her cheek with his. “I’m - I’m not willing to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I know you won’t. We’re gonna get through this.” She insists, hoping she can get him on board. She doesn’t want to do this without him.

He doesn’t say anything in response, and so she runs her hands through his long hair with a soft hum. “And then, after that, I am going to make you fall so in love with me that you’ll have no choice but to realize that I am always right.”

Eddie rumbles with laughter, pulling her in closer. “Sounds like a plan.”

She gripped his chin in her hand, the same way he’d done earlier with his kiss. She makes him look at her, murmuring softly. “We need you right now, Eds. Don’t check out on us again.” Then she kisses his cheek, and leads him out the room.

Eddie vows then and there that he’s going to give them all every advantage he can, rummaging around before smacking down the yellow pages to show the group.

“Check this out. The War Zone - I've been there once. It's huge. They got everything you need for, uh... well, killing things, basically.” He smiles cheekily.

“You think fake Rambo has enough guns there?” Robin asks, pointing to the ad. “Is that a grenade? I mean, how is any of this legal?”

“Well, lucky for us it is, so…” Eddie snipes. “This...This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and, uh, angry hicks.”

Erica glares at Eddie. “If we're trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn't go to some store called ‘The War Zone.’” 

“Normally, I'd agree, but we need the weapons. So I think it's worth the risk.” Nancy responds.

“Me too.” Lucas agrees. 

“But is it worth the time? It'll take all day to bike there and back.” Dustin points out. 

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie asks plainly. 

“What you got some sort of car we don't know about?” Steve prods.

Eddie stands up straighter, head tilted to the side. “It's not exactly a car, Steve. And it's not exactly mine, but, uh... it'll do.” His eyes land on the rest of the group as he asks Max. “Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandanna, something like that?”

Max finds the Michael Meyers mask she wore for Halloween in 84’, and with that obscuring his identity Eddie leads the group of kids through the trailer park.

They arrive at one of the mobile homes, Eddie opening a rear window and sinking inside of it. He drops down inside the RV, complaining lightly as he sheds the mask. “That was suffocating.” He grumbles.

He moves to the front of the vehicle, locking the door as the rest of the kids pour in behind him.

Then he drops down into the driver's seat, pliers in his teeth as he makes quick work of the wires under the dash.

“Where'd you learn how to do this?” Steve asks, concerned.

“Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire.” He laments. “Now, I swore to myself I wouldn't wind up like he did, but now I'm wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I'm really living up to that Munson name.”

Robin approached the two as Amilia was in the back, getting all the kids through and into the vehicle.

“Uh Eddie, I'm not sure I love the idea of you driving.” She protests.

“Oh, I'm just starting this ‘sucker. Harrington's got her. Don't ya, big boy?” He winks as the engine fires up.

The couple that owns the trailer starts screaming at the sound of backfire alerting them, banging on the doors and sides 

“Everybody, hang on to something!” Steve yells. 

As the RV swung wildly in Steve’s attempts to evade their pursuers and leave the trailer park behind, Eddie practically fell into Amilia’s lap at the back, smiling wildly at her.

“I don’t know how you could possibly think that you have any red flags.” She says sarcastically, as Eddie laughs.

Later he waits in the RV with Dustin, Lucas, and her - all those who really need to avoid being seen. As they do,  the rest of the group pours into The War Zone. The place is packed, and Robin mutters, “So much for avoiding angry hicks.”

“Let’s be…fast.” Nancy agrees.

That conviction is further enforced when Jason and his crew show up, clearly gathering weapons in their hunt for Eddie.

After barely avoiding a confrontation, the rest of them all file back into the RV, Erica announcing to her brother “Your old friends are here!” In explanation of Steve peeling away.

The group reconvenes off the main roads, parking in a large field and splitting into small groups to ready their weapons. 

Steve drops down beside Amilia where she’s lost in her song again, playing on cassette. 

He taps her shoulder gently, telling her when she moves the headphone down, “Got you something.” 

Then he hands over a shopping bag with her prize already sticking out of it.

“You shouldn’t have.” She says, but pulls the gift out anyway, smiling to herself.

“It’s kinda like the one you lost, right?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

She nods, unsheathing the machete from its holster and kissing the blade. 

During the two’s last interaction with the supernatural, she had certainly lost a similar one in the hide of a monster. She’d grumbled about it more than once.

“I know it won’t exactly help with what you're about to do but…I couldn’t just leave it behind.” He explains. Amilia stands and gives him a big hug, the weapon still held securely in her grasp.

“Listen, Steve...I promised Eddie we’re going to get through this, but I have this terrible gnawing feeling that it might not work out for us this time.” She says it so quietly he can barely hear.

“Why vote for this then? Why risk it?” He doesn’t understand.

“If we don’t stop him, who will?” She asks, and then sighs. “I mean we have to try, right?” 

She watches across the field as Eddie wrestles around with Dustin. Steve watches the interaction also, his jealousy of their camaraderie long since ebbed at the sight. He took comfort knowing that Dustin thought he was a badass.

“I won’t make you promise for if anything should happen to me. I know you’ll look after them.” She chuckled.

Steve swallows. “I will.” Then she offers him a more personal smile, tapping the corner of his chin gently with a closed fist.

When night begins to fall, it’s time for everyone to take their places. Amilia heads into the Creel house with the Sinclairs and Max.

The rest of the team heads into the Upside Down where they intend to split.

Steve gathers Eddie and Dustin, Amilia’s words ringing in his mind. “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep 'em busy for a minute or two. We'll take care of Vecna. Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just…”

“Decoys.” Dustin and Steve say simultaneously. “Don't worry. You can be the hero, Steve.” Dustin adds with a smile. 

“Absolutely. I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Eddie indicated their pitiful selves.

Steve nods, turning to go.

Eddie calls out after him. “Hey Steve?” He steps forward, voice low with fervor. “Make him pay.”

Back in Hawkins the four who stayed behind use the lanterns as they walk throughout the Creel house. 

Eddie and Dustin fortify Eddie’s trailer in The Upside Down. “…Now for the fun part.” Eddie grins, as they head into the trailer, to his room.

“Jesus Chr…It’s like she was destined for an alternate dimension.” He picks up his guitar with utmost care. “What do you say Henderson? Are you ready for the most ‘metal concert in the history of the world?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Dustin grins cheekily. 

Eddie grins back, slinging the guitar over his back. “Let’s do it.”

Erica is the one who finds Vecna, heading to the playground in order to alert the group members in the upside down once it’s time for phase two.

Amilia heads into the room where the lantern flickers with Vecna’s presence. She turns her music off, and starts to call out to Vecna.

He takes the bait, so Dustin and Eddie initiate phase three.   

A distraction in the form of Master of Puppets extends through the far reaches of the Upside Down, and draws the demo bats away from Vecna’s lair so Nancy, Robin, and Steve can approach it.

Amilia, deep in her mind, travels back through good memories…Billy Hargrove flirting with her shamelessly on Halloween, offering her his Terminator jacket when her gold bikini did nothing against the cold, never mind that it left him shirtless…A flurry of tattoo appointments, only trusting one man to get the job done, and him frequently asking her to recreate handwriting for him on stencils, since she could forge down to the letter…Telling Steve and Robin a story where she’d waited an unrealistic amount of time to exhale smoke while getting high with a friend. Laughing as she’d explained that said friend's mom had come into the room, and they’d not wanted to get themselves caught.

She needs to avoid the memories so sweet she could get lost in them. So she heads for something different, something muted.

Starcourt Mall.

Johnathan is attempting to cut the writhing chunk of the Mind Flayer out of El. Amilia watches in horror in the memory, biting down on her fist.

Then the bodies in that memory fade, and she’s left with only the location. So she flees the scene, heading deeper into the fabrication in order to hide from Vecna.

She finds a store with a cracked gate, sliding under it and pulling it down, sealing herself inside.

She had no way of knowing how long she hid. But eventually footsteps fall nearby, alerting her to another presence.

“You can't hide from me…You think I don't see what you're doing? You think I don't see…everything? You thought you could trick me? You thought your friends could stop me? I see them. I see your friends. Just as clearly as I see you. I can feel them. I can feel them dying.”

He shows it to her - shows her Erica running through the woods, a basketball player tackling and choking her until her eyes bug out…Jason shooting Max and Lucas…Steve and Nancy and Robin being engulfed by vines…and Eddie…Eddie’s throat is slashed open by one of the bats swarming him.

Amilia flinches away from it - and suddenly he’s there. He’s there and his hands are on her - and no no no no no, that’s where Vecna wants her to go.

A weapon. She needs a weapon. She runs to the memory of a weapon.

Eddie and Dustin are roughhousing in the field. Dustin has just made a terrible pun. Eddie makes him promise to never change.

The field is empty now, so she runs and drops to her knees in the grass where she and Steve stood, and grabs it, the machete.

Vecna is right behind her.

Amilia slices and hacks at him when he’s too close. When she hits flesh, he cries out.

“Enough!” He snarled.

He snatches the weapon from her hands with vines that snake up, coiling around her and holding her down. She thrashes wildly against them, to no avail. 

Hoping that she’s buying time.

Vecna’s disgusting hand wraps around her face, as he shoves her down through the earth. Despite the sensation of the vines, she’s falling.

Down, down, down…memories turned to pulp in his wake. And then she slams down onto a bed - her bed. She’s in her room.

Eddie is there too. He’s grinning at her, long hair falling down to curtain either side of her face.

Her brain is fuzzy. She’s drunk off him, intoxicated, when his tongue plays lazily with hers.

Something was wrong. It shouldn’t feel like this. Nothing should feel this good. 

Outside the memory, Vecna still has Amilia in the field. His hand stretches out toward her, ready to complete his work.

Her eyes roll back in her head in The Upside Down too, and he smiles at his impending victory.

Until one sharp yank sends him flying away from her.

Her eyes come into focus, and she gasps, suddenly and jarringly back in the field. Scrambling to her feet, she sees an old friend - Eleven, with Vecna suspended in the air.

“You.” He snarls at her.

“Hi.” She says back, tossing him through the walls of the RV Eddie had stolen however long before.

Then she rushes to the other girls side. “Amilia, are you okay?” Eleven asks her .

“Huh?” She blinks.

“Are you okay?” She repeats.

“Yeah.” She nods slowly. “Are you - are you real? Did I make you?” She whispers in confusion.

“I’m real.” She promised, turning abruptly at the sound of Vecna, climbing out of the hole El had made with him.

“Stay back.” She orders before tossing Amilia the machete with her mind and walking towards Vecna, who is fuming. Tendrils of fire and smoke curl around the edges of her memory.

Vecna gets the advantage over the two after a harrowing battle, pinning Eleven down and coming for Amilia. She defends herself as best she can, but El, tossed into a dark corner of reality, can hear her screaming.

Her body rises in the real world, and he makes Eleven listen to the sound of bones snapping, one arm bending in places it isn’t supposed to. 

Eleven screeches at that, throwing him back with everything she has.

The end of phase 4 commences simultaneously - while El takes Vecna down in Amilia’s mind, Steve tosses a Molotov cocktail at his physical body. Then Robin tosses another. And Nancy shoots him several times for good measure.

His body flies right through the Creel house, hitting the ground in The Upside Down.

Amilia hits the ground in the real world, sobbing. A clock chimes four times.

The earth splits open.

Amilia’s blinking headily against the blurred sight of Lucas - Max - Erica - Eleven? Then she slips away.

When she opens her eyes she’s in the hospital, no sense of how long it’s been.

There’s a cast on her arm. The kids have all signed it. Steve, Nance, Robin. They all must have made it out. Vecna’s visions weren’t true.

Still there’s one name missing.

She bolts upwards, startling the person in a chair beside her. He jumps to his feet.

“Harrington?” She questions groggily.

He rushes to her side. “Hey! Hey you’re okay.”

“What’s going on? What happened?” She clenched her fist, crying out.

Steve makes her smooth out her fingers, chastising her. Then his voice broke. “What happened? You died, Amilia.”

“Then why am I alive?” She responds.

“Something - Eleven - we’re not really sure. But you were dead, your death opened Vecna’s portal into The Upside Down. He accomplished what he wanted.” 

“Oh no,” she whispers, thinking she had failed. 

Steve grasps her good hand, “Never mind that. You made it. That’s all that matters.” But he can’t meet her eyes.

She grows stiff, blood leaving her face. “Is everyone okay?”

He stalls. “There was an earthquake. We don’t know what this means. Vecna’s body was - it was gone.”

“Steve.” She says firmly. “Is everyone okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “For the most part. Eddie…Eddie deviated from the plan. He tried to take on the swarm of demo-bats to buy us more time. He was injured pretty badly. And with the allegations, we couldn’t take him to a hospital like we did you.”

“Oh god.” Tears fill her eyes. “Tell me he’s gonna be alright.”

“He’s spent every bandage change threatening to kill us, so I think it’s safe to say that he’s gonna pull through.”

She feels like she can breathe, really breathe, for the first time. Steve nods a bit. “I mean the guy has grown on me but he’s gotten on all of our last nerves lately. Makes us watch you in shifts, give him reports on you - when quite frankly you've been comatose for two days. Not much to say! …He’s gonna be so happy when I eventually tell him you’re awake.”

“Eventually?” She starts to raise her voice - a barrage of Spanish protests.

“English.” Steve scolds. “I’m sorry but it’s gotta be that way. We're trying to get him to stay put. If we tell him you’re conscious then he’s gonna bolt right over here and land himself in a jail cell.”

That did sound like him. She almost laughed. “Fine. As soon as possible then.”

It ended up being the next day. Amilia signed herself out Against Medical Advisement in the late afternoon, headed home to Eddie.

Steve had let all the kids know she was getting out, and everyone planned to come over later, after giving the two a few hours of privacy. 

Steve dropped her off at the house she’d been driven from only days ago, and she headed inside. As the front door opens she can hear Eddie calling from her bedroom.

“You better have my fucking Yoo-hoos and Honeycomb cereal or I’m going to lose it.” He grumbles.

��Sorry to disappoint.” Amilia says. As she rounds the corner Eddie sees her, scrambling to his feet. 

“Amilia.” he breathes. She takes him in, eyeing the bandages that wrap around pretty much the whole extent of his right side, then down on his lower left. He’s got some smaller ones scattered on both arms, and his face.

“Shit, Eddie.” She whispers, good hand clenching and unclenching.

“Looks a lot worse than it is.” He promised, pulling her in with no regard for his own comfort, kissing her forehead. 

Then his hands brush against the hard plaster of her cast, a frown on his face. “He got way too close to you. I should have been there.”

“The plan needed you to be somewhere else. It wouldn’t have mattered.” She assures him. He doesn’t like that answer. It sounds like a reflex. He suspects she’s not been honest with him in a way, this whole time. Telling him whatever it takes.

“Don’t do that.” He pleads.

Amilia can’t help but to be relieved at the instruction, lightly brushing against the bandage covering a portion of his chin. “…I saw the bats kill you.” She whispers. 

“I know that it wasn’t real, that Vecna wanted to break me. Wanted me to give in to everything he wanted me to see and welcome the death of it all…but in that moment it was so real and I just…I…I love you, Eddie. And you don’t need to feel the same right now or even ever, but you do need to know that it’s how I felt when I fell through that portal…and for every scar and broken bone, I love you.”

Eddie’s gaze is soft, lips turned up at the corners as his shy voice leaks through. “…Be my girl?”

A nod, and he kisses her eagerly.

Then she pulls away, raising a brow. “Yoo-hoos and honeycomb cereal?” She teases.

He makes a face. “I know. I’ve been really suffering without your home cooking. Never leave me again.”

She laughs and promises. 

A few hours later when the house is full of familiar faces, the party recounts the war, sharing stories.

Now that the world is saved - for now - they all wrack their brains trying to think of ways to clear Eddie’s name. 

Easier said than done, since the biggest claim to his innocence is that Chrissy was actually murdered by an interdimensional being.

The answer comes when the group gets to another part of the story - the part explaining why Lucas’ face is all swollen. Swollen from fist fighting Jason Carver. 

“Jason?” Amilia repeats in worried confusion.

“The prick found us while you were in with Vecna.” Max explained.

“Lucas knocked him out cold and then he was in the perfect place to die when the earthquake hit.” Erica explains.

“Fucking poetic.” Robin grumbles.

Suddenly, abruptly, Amilia stands, grabbing her keys. Eyes go wide around the room.

“Where are you going?” Eddie protests, trying to come after her.

“To clear your name - possibly commit a felony.”  She says it casually, Steve is already on board and holding the door open for her as the others protest behind her.

Too late.

The two of them head out into the night, with Steve asking for her to clue him in. Once she does so, he makes a firm vow to never cross her.

That night the two of them do a lot of breaking and entering. The final stop is in Jason Carver’s room to plant evidence - trophies, from each kill. 

A lock of Chrissy’s hair that Amilia snipped off at the morgue. Patrick’s jacket, stolen from evidence - that one he had shed initially for the swim into Lover’s Lake. Fred’s journaling pad that he’d had last time he was with Nancy, left in her car.

All of it she had taken, hiding it very poorly beneath Jason’s bed in a box.

And since she’s an overachiever, she also gets a small journal, where ‘Jason’ details his homicidal rage. She forges his handwriting perfectly, checking it against the school papers in his backpack. 

Then she manages to scrounge up a yearbook of Jason’s from her senior year when Jason was a sophomore.

She flips to a page in it with Eddie’s club - his first senior year, the year she had graduated - wondering how she had missed him all that time - and admiring his cute face before drawing a big, blood red pentagram right over it. 

She cuts images out of each of the murder victims, Chrissy, then Patrick, then Fred, saving herself for last. His next intended victim. 

These images are pasted in the journal, one to a page. Then Amilia tosses the yearbook somewhere convenient.

She slips the journal under Jason’s pillow, and high tails it out of there.

Then she makes Steve take her to the police station, playing the supportive friend who convinces the victim to come forward.

And she sells the hell out of the lie that Jason tried to kill her before the earthquake took him out.

From which point Amilia had stumbled into the streets, fainting. Saved by the Sinclairs and Max who were at the playground nearby.

The police were already mildly suspicious of Jason after his story about Eddie being a vessel for Satan and her being some kind of bride of Dracula who had done something to the lemonade - which they had tested - finding only sugar, lemons, and water.

So she helped them along to the conclusion that makes the most sense.

Some of them go to Jason’s - finding exactly what she’d intended for them to find. Though they don’t tell her, she can feel the shift in the narrative.

They’re much gentler - even though they don’t let Eddie off the hook so easily. Not that Amilia wasn’t expecting it. They ask her if she knows where he is, and they bring him in.

He'd been filled in by then - and so he came prepared. He shows up, hiding his injuries as much as possible, and tells a watered down version of the truth - that he found Chrissy’s body in his trailer and he ran, horrified. He knew how it looked.

He puts on a dramatic show in true Eddie fashion - wanting it on record that if the police were left to their own devices, Jason would have gotten away with it. “And my girlfriend would have been one of his mangled victims!” He smacks his hands onto the table theatrically.

The police have the good sense to be embarrassed. They hold Eddie only for a few more hours, at which point they’ve got more than enough to convict Jason.

They release a statement. His body is found where Amilia had said it was, and quietly buried. The reality of what she wanted them to see shakes the whole town. 

The news runs coverage on it for a whole week, and after the coverage is widespread Eddie tentatively returns to life as it was. 

Well, almost. 

Eddie’s uncle had been relocated by government agents when the portal first started to show. Now that there was actually a gaping mess through the trailer, Eddie couldn’t exactly go back there.

So more often than not, he makes himself at home at Amilia’s.

She cooks, he does the dishes. The two plan for the future in between it all.

Haunted by the thought of losing Eddie, she’s happy to just get the hell out of Hawkins now. But Eddie is determined to graduate. After that, he promises, the two of them can go anywhere she wants. 

What she wants, she tells him, is to go somewhere where they can leave the monsters behind. Eddie makes promises.

For now though the pair stay put, and even work with the others on trying to put the world back together. 

But that’s another story…

The days turn into months, and June arrives. With it, Eddie’s big day.

As he walks the stage at graduation, he can hear the small cluster of his friends - and his small family- cheering louder than the muted clapping from a town that still has him labeled a freak and probably always will. 

His uncle Wayne is the only one mortified rather than proud, when he keeps true to his word and flips off the principal. 

“I couldn’t ask him not to do it. It was three years in the making.” Amilia tells the older man.

He smiles fondly at her.

Of all the terrible things to come out of the last few months, Amilia was not one of them.

Wayne saw how she kept his nephew on the straight and narrow, while also keeping Wayne in his temporary housing supplied with home cooking and baked goods. It was no wonder his nephew loved her.

Sure, he hadn’t said as much, but Wayne knew. He could see it in the way he looked at her.

When he makes the two of them pose for pictures, he can’t help but to snap one of Eddie’s soft gaze when Amilia isn’t paying attention, and knows it’s only a matter of time before he tells her so.

After photos, while wearing Robin’s hat, Steve excitedly tells them all, “After party at my place!”

Most agree to go - only Nancy, Johnathan and Wayne opting out of it, the former celebrating privately, and the latter leaving early to get to work. 

From there it’s the kids, Steve’s pool, the cheap beers he swaps out in favor of his parents' good stuff because why not, it’s a special occasion.

And to top off the celebration, Eddie gets absolutely wasted. Like to the point of needing help taking his clothes off. There’s no chance of getting him upstairs, so Amilia and Steve help him cozy up on the living room couch.

“Tell me again?” he slurs, voice whiny and desperate as he stops her from tucking him in, Steve off to fetch some water.

“Again?” She asks in bewilderment.

He nods vigorously, a pout on his lips. “I need to hear you say it.”

She smiles at him, leaning down and pressing little kisses to the corner of his jaw, the scarring there. “I love you.” She whispers in promise against his skin.

Eddie nearly sags in relief. “Fuuuck, that’s so good. I don’t deserve you baby.”

“You’re cute, Eds.” She chuckles, batting his hands away when he tries to pull her down into him.

“No…come on, I mean it.” He complains. “You’re the best girl in this whole town, the whole universe. How the hell did I get so lucky?”

A small shrug, Eddie laughs. “I’m gonna give you everything, you know? Buy you one of those big houses the fleeing townsfolk left behind when this place got cursed.” He chortles. “Snatch it right up while the property values are shit…Probably the only way I’d be able to give you the kinda place a girl like you deserves.” 

Amilia’s eyes widened in surprise.  

Stay? She didn’t realize he might want to stay when the talks they’d had were always about leaving. 

That wasn’t the plan…and yet…

And yet she knew she would, for him. Would even fight monsters again. All for him.

For now though, she laughs non-committedly. “Eddie I don’t need all that, just you.”

“And you’ll have me!” He swears. “I’m never going away. I’m gonna stick right by you and however many babies you’ll let me put in you.” A cocky smirk, like he was already thinking about the process.

“Eddie!” She gasps, smacking him playfully.

Steve returns with the water, insisting Eddie drink it. He pouts but does so, grumbling at Steve, “Hate you.” 

“No you don’t.” Steve chuckles, making sure Amilia’s okay with the hot mess before heading upstairs to go to bed.

Eddie clings to her side, babbling about a future for the two of them that’s much more conventional than the one they’d been planning.

Amilia hides when she starts to tear up. This poor man, who’d been through so much, here in his drunken truth, wanted nothing but some stability. Normalcy. Like everyone else got to have.

And damn if she wasn’t going to be the one to make sure of it for him.

She tries to come up with a way to make that clear…and a week later she has it, executing her plan with some help from uncle Wayne.

Leaving before Eddie wakes up, Amilia employs all of her friends' help as they raid the Munson trailer, loading up all of Eddie’s belongings into her car. Everything he owns.

(She’d cleared some of the more incriminating things out beforehand - handcuffs, sexy magazines, condoms she tucks in her pocket for…safekeeping.)

When she returns to her place with it all, Eddie meets her outside, antsy because she’s been gone all day.

“There’s my girl,” Eddie grins, opening the door for Amilia as she steps out, taking in her packed car. “What’s uh…what’s all this?”

“Your stuff.” She says innocently, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

Eddie blinks in surprise, voice slightly higher in pitch. “Are we…are we hitting the road already?” 

“Actually um, I thought maybe we could stay for a bit.” She confesses, looking at her shoes so she doesn’t have to see his expression as she continues.

“I…I know my place isn’t exactly one of the huge houses collecting dust on Maple street right now…but um, I think we can make it a home - at least for now. Add your things in with mine.”

Eddie is silent.

She flushes, still unable to look at him, worrying her lower lip - and then the gravel crunches as he inches closer to her, tilting her head up by her chin to make her meet his gaze. His eyes are soft.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” He grins. 

She huffs. “Yeah, Munson, I thought that was obvious.”

He laughs, swearing as he lets her face go, only to grab her hand. “We don’t have to stay. I would follow you anywhere, woman.” 

“I know you would. The thing is…I don’t need you to. I think I was just scared before…scared to lose you, and I convinced myself that it would be safer to run away from here and drag you with me…But that’s not what you want. And I couldn’t bear to take you from everything you’ve ever known on the chance that the world is safer outside Hawkins.” She tells him, squeezing his palm.

“Fuck” Eddie blurts, squeezing her hand in his in response. “I love you.” 

Her eyes widen, he can’t help but to smile so wide that it hurts. “I really love you. You are…you are everything to me. I’m sorry that I haven’t told you that before. Shit, it’s long overdue I just…”

“I love you too.” She cuts him off.

Eddie beams, leans down and kisses her before picking her up off the ground, carrying her into the house bridal style, boots kicking open the front door.

“Eddie!” She squeals in protest, trying not to laugh. “You need to unpack the car!”

“Not just yet, baby, I’m the man of this house now and I say no unpacking until we’ve christened every room in this place.” He snickers.

He carries her back to their room, depositing her on their bed just so he can make sure to do everything in his power to let her know that she’s his and he’s hers. 

For however long she’ll have him.

[tjmystic]

Hey! Just saw u don't ship Byler. Not trying to h8 on u but why? Am curious.

Hey! No worries at all.

The short version is that I don't want to see El hurt, and a lot of the Byler headcanons I've read just kind of leave her out to dry like she no longer matters if Mike doesn't romantically love her.

As long as that isn't what happens and she and Mike get to stay best friends, I'm all for him ending up with Will. I think it would be sweet, and I do think that, ultimately, El needs a loving family (especially a father) more than a romantic love interest. But I also don't want the showrunners to gloss over how Mike called her every day for nearly a year even though he had no proof that she was still alive and that El only broke Hopper's "don't be stupid" rules after he repeatedly forbade her from seeing Mike. I personally read that as romantic, even though they were like 13 at the time, but, as long as they get to keep something akin to Steve and Robin's platonic soulmate-dom, I'll really love it if Mike ends up with Will. Likewise, I will be EXTREMELY upset if Mike ends up with El and they just never address the fact that Will's in love with him and/or Mike isn't fully supportive of Will's gayness.

The ultimate win, of course, would be that Mike gets to be in love with both of them, but I unfortunately can't see Netflix letting that happen between three 15/16-year-olds, two of whom are adopted siblings (obviously don't want romance between Will and El, but you know how the general populace is about misunderstanding poly stuff).

And, on the supremely unlikely chance that you (or anyone else) is curious, here are my other ST ships:

Lucas & Max - Endgame OTP, they took a HUGE leap to the top of my list this season

Joyce & Hopper - Endgame OTP, have been since Season 1

Jonathan & Nancy - get out of here with them trying to bring back Steve & Nancy, it doesn't work, I love them seperataly and they both deserve better than each other

Robin & Vickie - cause that shit is precious, and I loved Robin accepting that Vickie could be into her only AFTER Vickie devolved into the same word vomit Robin admits happens to her when she has a crush on someone

Steve & Happiness - I honestly don't care who he ends up with (except Nancy, just NO) as long as he's happy and someone's putting him first for a change because they want to, not because he's there or convenient or somehow useful. He's my favorite, and he deserves love. (If that means we have to ressurect the queer metalhead who's stolen half his children, then by God, I say we do it. Although, before Eddie existed, I crack-shipped him with Kali because, for one, I desperately want her back so we can tie up those loose ends, and second, I think it would be hilarious watching her scare the fuck out of him.)

[munsnz]

My Only One — Steve Harrington

warnings: badly written fluff ??

Summary: Youre sick and alone, in need of your one and only boyfriend. He hasn’t came home and you’re scared he’s cheating on you or doesnt love with anymore.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader

Lydineo Radio: Cherry — Harry Styles

Masterlist — Requests Open

It was the winter of 1985, Christmas time was coming soon and you were about to spend Christmas with the love of your life, Steve Harrington. Both of you ended up together after the mishap from last summer. It really was just a confession when you two were drugged in the bathroom, which made you guys go out after it. You and Steve never told anyone and kept the relationship a secret. Maybe you two want to love each other without anyone knowing, it was better like that.You two both loved each other so much, you guys were inseparable.

It was one of those nights Y/N was sick, no one came over to check on her, not even her lover. Gosh, she felt so lonely but didn’t want to call him, she thought maybe she would sound clingy. Y/N decided to give her cousin a call.

”Hello?” Dustin’s voice rang.

”Hey,” Y/N choked out, trying to keep from crying,” H-how are you?”

”Fine?” Dustin replied on the phone, “Do you need something?”

”N-no I was just wondering how y-you were doing.”

”Steve’s not here by the way,” He said.

”What?” Y/N puzzled, “W-what do you mean?”

”I know you’re looking for him.”

”N-no.”

”Yes you are,” Dustin started, “I know you love Steve and you want him to stay with you.”

”He’s m-my friend,” She hesitates, “And you k-know I like him, but I just need him.”

Dustin sighed and explained, “Look, I don’t really know where he is. But you’ve got to tell him.”

Y/N already told him, they love each other, she didn’t tell Dustin, “I already did.”

”What?!”

”I told him during the summer,” She confessed, it was getting dark as the stars shined and glistened. Making her eyes look more clear.

”What happened?”

”Well, I-I”

”I’m going to have to kick his ass if he rejected you.”

”He didn’t,” Y/N mumbled, she could already imagine Dustin’s face even though they were on the phone. “We’ve been seeing each other for about 5 months.”

”What?! Really?” Dustin exclaimed, hearing him laugh and jump, “I knew it! I knew it! You guys are made for each other! Yes!”

Y/N laughed thinking of every single memory with Steve. Their first kiss, date, and all those random moments where they treasured the most. Those small road trips to somewhere out of town, the gifts they gave each other, the slow dances in the kitchen, the random I love you’s in between conversations, the singalongs they both shared every night, their cuddles while watching a film, and sharing their own clothes were everything to her, thinking about that made her eyes water.

”Something wrong?” Dustin’s voice snapped out of her thoughts.

”Well, now that you know Steve and I are together, I need him, I’m alone here and sick,” Y/N coughed.

”Oh, I would come over but my mom says it’s late,” Dustin replied, “Maybe I could call him?”

”No!” Y/N yelped, “Don’t! He’s going to think I’m clingy or jealous! Please don’t! I don’t want him to think that and then he’ll probably drop me!”

”You’re scared huh?” Dustin made up, “You’re afraid you’re going to loose him.”

”Yeah.”

”Well you have to talk to him.”

”No. Just,” Y/N trailed off. “Don’t tell him anything.”

”Okay fine, but you have to open up to him, isn’t that all about a relationship? Trust?”

Before Dustin could say anything else, Y/N hung up on him and laid on her side. She began to quietly sob, like the type of sob where you need to hold everything in and not scream to cry. It hurt her heart, why didn’t she trust him? Wasn’t that the whole point? Tears poured over her rosy cheeks and her heart continued to ache. Y/N let out loud sobs that filled the quiet home, the cold made her feel lonely and sad.

~

Steve walked inside his home, realizing it was late, he decided to dial Y/N’s number, no response. He had to help Keith and Robin at the Family Video store for a longer time, forgetting to let Y/N, his lover know. God, he felt guilty about leaving her alone, he knew it was their 5 month anniversary, and they were going to have a nice night together.

“Shit,” Steve mumbled while he slumped on the couch, “I messed up.”

Steve turned to the phone and decided to call Dustin.

”Hey, man,” Steve began.

”Hi.”

”Look, I need your help but you’ve got to understand-“

”I know,” Dustin finished, “You and Y/N are dating. She told me.”

”What?”

”Yeah I know,” He laughed, “You two were obvious, I found you guys making out in your car before you came inside to babysit us.”

”When?” Steve panicked, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

”Last week, and I thought maybe you two wanted it private.”

”Oh okay, well I forgot to tell Y/N that I was going to be working late and she’s probably upset because it’s our 5 month anniversary,” Steve explained.

”She was asking for you,” Dustin muttered, “She didn’t want me to tell you this, but she’s been wanting to call you and know how you are. Only thing is that she doesn’t want to sound clingy and get attached. I heard her crying.”

”Oh, I feel bad,” Steve whispered.

”Go apologize or make her feel special, I don’t know.”

Steve smiled and figured something out, “You’re right, thanks.”

~

Y/N heard the phone chime in her ears, she saw that the phone was ringing. She laid there and didn’t move a muscle, she hasn’t ate anything since she lost her appetite. Her head was throbbing and her body ached, just like that time when Steve helped her get to his house before they started seeing each other. Why did everything remind her of Steve? He was probably cheating on her already, it didn’t matter anymore, maybe he never loved her. No. She snapped out of those thoughts and turned to the side of the lamp, it glowed her goddess-like face.

Suddenly she began to hear footsteps going upstairs. She didn’t lock the door, shit. She was dead already and pretended to be asleep. Then a voice cried out, the voice was familiar to her.

”Love, you have to lock the door.”

Silence. Y/N didn’t bother and faced her back towards him.

”I’m sorry, love. Please,” He pleaded walking over to her on the bed.

”Maybe you were out with someone else,” Y/N managed to speak, holding back her tears, which was unsuccessful and began to sob.

”No, I would never be,” Steve laid on the bed and scooped her from the back. “You’re the love of my life and I can’t stand the thought of loosing you.”

“I-I don’t think you love me anymore,” Y/N wailed and sniffed, dropping a used tissue off the bed.

”What? No, no don’t cry, it hurts me,” Steve begged while he teared up, “I love you more than anything please don’t say that.”

”Well, I feel like we’re drifting apart,” Y/N mumbled and still faced her back to him, “ It gets lonely here without you, I don’t have anyone else, but you. You think I’m a burden and probably don’t want me.”

“Please, just listen to me for one second,” Steve held her tighter, “I’ve always wanted you, only you, even when I dated Nancy. You’re the most beautiful woman, I’ve seen, okay? I- I don’t even have the words to express my love for you. Ever since the day I kissed you in the bathrooms, I knew it was always going to be you.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth made Y/N’s heart wrench into a spiral of emotions. Making her heat up more than she was with the high fever she had, Y/N turned to face Steve. “Stay with me.”

”You know I will,” He rubbed the tear off her cheek, “It’s not clingy to ask how someone’s feeling, I actually love that. Either way I wouldn’t dump someone because they were attached, you know I love you.”

Steve gently placed Y/N on his chest and kissed her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Y/N groaned and looked to meet her eyes with his, “Can I kiss you?”

”Why do you ask?”

“....”

”Of course you can, you don’t need to ask,” Steve crept his lips onto hers, gosh, it still feels like that same day they kissed. The sparks flew everywhere, the kiss was gentle, but firm, the warmth on Y/N was heavenly and destroying to her since she was feverish. He pulled away, “I need you to stay here okay? I’ll get you something to make you feel better.”

”No, you don’t need to, I just need you here. I’ve missed you and you’re already the medicine I need,” Y/N hugged him tighter, not wanting to let go.

”I want to take care of you. I love you.”

”Fine,” She huffed bringing a smile on her face and he began sit on the bed. Steve was a sweetheart, he got her a small ice pack, painkillers like the first time he brought her to his house when she was drugged at a party, and her favorite sweets.

Both of them were now laying on the couch, holding each other, Y/N’s head placed on Steve’s chest. They fit like a perfect puzzle, watching a movie together. Y/N felt loads better being with her loved one, and it had been the best anniversary for her.

”Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N peeped, covering her face with the blanket.

”What is it, precious?” Steve pecked her lips and smiled.

Y/N giggled making Steve’s cheeks grew pink and she dug her nose into his neck, his strong yet smooth scent filled her nose, “I love you, more than anything.”

”I think I already knew that secret,” Steve cuddled and held Y/N with a firm grip, but held her like a porcelain doll in his arms. Y/N regretted saying that Steve didn’t love her, he actually loved her more than his heart could ever imagine. Both of them dozed off to sleep in each other’s arms in a hope for sweet dream longing in them With their one and only

[mediocre--writing]

I loved your childhood friends ask! I have a headcannon that when they grow up and get to high school, Billy has a hard time because Steve is seeking out girls whereas Billy just wants him. Billy would definitely cry to his mom about it, especially when Nancy comes into the picture, his head in her lap as she plays with his hair and tries to soothe his broken heart and sobs. How could he fall in love with his straight childhood best friend?

it wasn’t steve’s fault.

billy had to keep reminding himself that it was in no way steve’s fault.

but as he sat in the camaro, waiting for steve to get out of his house, billy could see steve twirling the phone cord around his fingers while he blushed and talked to someone.

billy had been there for almost ten minutes. and steve had seen him, even waved at him, and was usually so punctual about leaving the house.

but it took a total of 25 minutes for steve to hang up the phone and come out to billy’s car.

“nance was talking to me about that party friday, you know the one? but yeah she wanted us to go together and so...”

“so you wanna drive her to the party. steve, she’s your girl, you gotta take her,”

steve sighed out in relief, “we’ll go to the next one together, b, alright?”

“of course,”

they hung out that afternoon but billy didn’t feel as up for it as he was when he was getting ready.

steve was constantly talking about nancy or the party and what he should wear. billy wanted to beat his face in.

it wasn’t for any other reason than he was being annoying. steve and billy were hanging out. that was the plan. it wasn’t steve, billy, and the constant thought of nancy wheeler hanging out.

they drove around for a while, which was nice, and they sang to music, and billy felt settled by steve’s semi-raspy singing voice.

he felt a bit better about losing steve to nancy until he went to drop steve off. it wasn’t anything that happened, just what he said:

“thanks for being so cool about the party. maybe nance and i can introduce you to heather, she’s super nice and i think she likes you!”

billy forced an easy smile on his face while he looked at steve, “sure, t, that would be nice,”

then steve left and billy waited until he got into the house before driving off like a bat outta hell.

he didn’t go straight home. he went to the gas station, filled up the tank, bought three packs of cigarettes, and a candy bar before driving around for the remainder of the night, until about 12.

steve never listened anymore.

in the car, billy had been talking about how he had found a second job at the pool and his coworker, heather, was really sweet.

then steve brings her up at the end of the night like he came up with her out of nowhere? did he not listen to a word billy had said all night?

and nancy. nancy prissy-motherfucker wheeler.

who does she think she is? ramming her way into their group, pretending to be all shy and sweet and cutesy when she just wants steve.

and the way she thinks she’s better than everyone because she’s taking next-grade level clases.

well guess what, wheeler, so am i!! you’re nothing special!!

as billy finished off the last cigarette of the second pack, he reached into the passenger seat to grab for the third pack when he realized how shaky his hands were.

glancing around the car, he noted that it was 11:45, three and a half hours since he’d left steve’s house. and he was going 94 on a shady backroad.

billy loved the feel of speeding, but knew his mother would whip his ass if he did.

rather than open a new pack, billy decreased his speed (to 70, but it was better than 100) and started driving home.

he rolled all the windows down completely, hopefully getting some of the smell out.

when he’d pulled into his driveway, his mom was standing on the porch, trying to shove the key into the lock while balancing her purse, diner leftovers, and another bag in her arms.

billy quickly got out of the car, leaving the pack of cigarettes in there and grabbing the candy bar before walking up the steps and taking the takeout boxes out of her hands.

“thank you, sweet boy,” she smiled as she finally got the key in the lock

they walked into the house quietly, setting all of their stuff down.

billy discarded his jacket in the coat closet while she had gone to change out of her diner uniform into comfy pajamas.

billy moved to the kitchen to take plates and cups down, setting them on the dining table suit for three people, maximum.

he opened the take out boxes and moved each of their dinners onto plates before filling the glasses with ice and water.

“thank you, baby,”

she pecked him on the forehead as he sat down at the table, then took her normal seat and began eating.

“how was your day?”

“better than yours,”

billy’s face scrunched up a little at her comment as she took a bite of her burger.

“you still smell like smoke, plus you were meeting with steve at 6, so you’ve been out for quite a while...”

“it’s nothing to worry about,” billy kept holding his burger rather than take a bite out of it, the smoking having ruined his appetite.

“billy,”

“promise, it’s nothing to worry about,”

“alright. don’t you both have that party friday?”

“why does everyone care about this stupid party!?” billy said, louder than he meant to.

“who’s ‘everyone’?”

“nobody, mom,”

“oooh, you’re all grumpy, calling me ‘mom’ and shit. why don’t you check the attitude by tomorrow morning, mkay?”

billy nodded and took a bite of his food, “sorry,”

“it’s alright, but you can’t get angry at me for something i didn’t do, billy,”

billy nodded and she got up to clear her finished plate, rinsing it then coming back to where billy was still eating.

she held his face gently in her hands and placed a long kiss on his forehead, “try to get a good nights sleep, hon,”

she walked to the back of the house, where her bedroom was, and shut the door, leaving billy with most of his dinner still on his plate and heaviness in his heart.

billy made it through the rest of the school week. the weather was warming up, nearing the end of the school year, and the days were pretty easy.

but he was avoiding steve. well, really, he was avoiding the priss, and since she was always with steve, he was avoiding him by default.

and it didn’t feel any better avoiding steve when every time he did see him, he was holding flowers for her, or picking her up from behind, or talking real close to her face all sweet.

the worst part was that steve didn’t seem all to fazed by not seeing billy those four days.

and it hurt. it hurt that, apparently, steve meant more to billy than billy meant to steve. it hurt that the priss could replace billy so quickly.

and so billy was getting agitated. his mom kept working late shifts and billy was working on training for his lifeguard job and homework and it all felt like too much was going on and he didn’t have steve there to distract him.

so, by complete accident, he got into a fight. a big one. with a senior.

for a junior, billy could probably pass as an actual adult, and had the muscles and fighting skills to prove it.

the senior wasn’t too far off either, though.

billy got knocked into (by accident) in the hall while he was watching steve and the priss and just... snapped.

he and the boy were both losers of the fight, neither looking better than the other and neither having been declared winner. plus, they were both marched off to the principals office at the end of the day.

billy, out of the corner of his eye, saw steve watching him get marched off to the front offices, but didn’t care to look and see his face.

more so, the disappointment that would be there. steve hated when he got angry and fought. he hadn’t gotten into a fight since freshman year, so what happened now?

billy’s mom, having been called in from work, seemed as if she was on fire when she came into the building.

she was a taller woman, had broad shoulders and a glare that rivaled billy’s. in short, she was intimidating as fuck (even in her cute 50s work uniform)

billy couldn’t look her in the eye.

after they’d finished with the principal (two day suspension for both boys), billy and his mom walked out to his car.

“where’d you park?” billy grumbled.

“i had christopher drop me off so i could make sure that you would be going straight home after this,”

they made it to the blue camaro, both standing on the drivers side door.

“mom—“

“keys!” she held her hand out and billy stared at her, “now!”

he fumbled in his jean jacket pocket before handing her the keys, walking around to the passenger door and getting in.

they drove the speed limit the whole way home, not talking and not listening to music. just the rumble of the engine as they sat in silence, both seething with different types of anger.

they pulled up to the house, both getting out and going to the door, unlocking it and billy tried storming off to his room before he was called back.

“what!”

“first of all, loose the ‘tude,” she gestured for him to sit on the couch as she walked back and forth in front of the coffee table. “second of all, no party friday.

“now, what the hell is wrong with you? huh? i didn’t raise you to punch a kid for accidentally bumping you in the hall and i most definitely never taught you to talk back to me!

“i get it, billy. we all have bad days or weeks or whatever but we don’t scream at other people or start fights because we feel angry! do you understand that?”

“yes, ma’am,”

“now, why don’t you tell me why you’ve been all ‘hormonal teenager’ for the past week. well, the past month you’ve been weird, so start from the beginning,”

billy took a few deep breaths, “mom, i really don’t wanna—“

“no, we’re gonna talk. i took the whole day off work so we could fix this, so we are gonna talk and we are gonna figure this out, because you’re not you, billy. you are sweet and smiley and funny and you’ve been a little shit recently,”

billy smiled a little bit at his moms crude language, something most parents would frown upon.

“i’m pretty sure that steve and i aren’t really friends anymore. not like we used to be, at least,” billy scrunched up his nose, a tell that meant he was pretending he wasn’t about to start crying.

“why do you think that? you and steve are inseparable, have been since the day you met,”

“he got a girlfriend,” billy was staring just over his mom’s head, pretending he was looking at her. “and he hasn’t been...”

“hasn’t been what?”

he rolls his eyes, “i’m gonna sound like an asshole,”

“you are a little asshole, just say it,”

“he doesn’t pay attention to me anymore. all he talks about is the priss and how their relationship is going. i love him, mom, you know i do, but i can’t hear another word about her! i hate her!”

“why? is she mean to steve?”

“not mean mean, but, like, i talked to some of the guys we hang out with and they think steve’s been weird recently too. he doesn’t do anything without her and he’s different. i can’t explain it, he’s just not the same steve,”

“billy, it’s his first love, he’s gonna be all sappy for her and forget about his friends, it’s just how it is most of the time,”

“no! it’s not ‘just how it is’ because steve and i aren’t just friends, we’re closer and she’s just pulling him away! he doesn’t even care that she is!”

“billy,”

“you don’t understand!”

“i do, i get it completely, but you’re teenagers and you’re gonna get upset. i’m surprised you and steve have made it this far without having a big fight yet,”

“but we aren’t supposed to have big fights! he’s supposed to listen to me and i’m supposed to listen to him! we get each other and he knows me better than anyone! he’s not like my other friends, he’s—he’s steve—and i can’t loose him, mom,

“he was the first kid i really got to hang out with when you kicked dad out, and he helped me through that. we’re close! i can’t just lose him now, after everything!”

“billy, baby,” he looked up to her, teary eyes and all, “what are you really thinking about right now?”

“i think... i think i like steve, like, i like like steve,”

“i know, baby,”

billy’s head shot up to look at her eyes, “you—“

“billy, you’ve loved steve since the day you met, it’s harder not to notice,”

billy starts breathing deeper then, and his mom moves to sit on the couch, pulling him into her chest as she plays with his hair while he cries quietly about losing his best friend and crush.

“it hurts so bad, momma,”

she shushes his broken voice and continues to play with his hair, “i know, baby, i know,” she tears up along with him.

they stay like that until the school day ends, then when the sun goes down.

billy ends up falling asleep on the couch that night. she gets up to get the knitted blanket off of an adjacent chair and drapes it over his body, not being able to cover all of his legs, but staying there with him all night.

it was hard, as a mother, to watch her son break into so many little pieces. but it was even harder when she almost felt her heart break with his.

she knew steve, knew he would make whoever he ended up with a very, very happy person. he was sweet and went out of his way to make others happy.

and a selfish part of her really wanted steve to end up with her billy, for him to be treated right by the only person he’s been in love with. the person who he’d unintentionally pined after for years.

she just wanted to see her boys happy.

[magniloquent-raven]

See What This is Worth

Harringrove Week of Love: Day 4

Teacher AU || School Dance

Rated: T

Read on Ao3

Billy is not, by nature, the kind of person who likes to be overly helpful. He doesn’t go out of his way for people he doesn’t know. He’s not especially charitable. 

And yet here he is, taking time out of his Friday night, setting up tables and supervising idiots with no upper body strength who think they can move a whole stack of chairs on their own. He has better things to do than hang out at work and chaperone a bunch of middle-schoolers trying to score their first kiss to some truly grating top 40 shit. 

He didn’t even like school dances when he was a student. As a middle-schooler he was too fucking terrified that some girl might ask him to dance, so he just never went. And in high school...well. He ended up more the type to get high in the parking lot and ditch with whatever chick was too drunk to notice he didn’t put out. 

There was never a boy he liked well enough to do this shit with. Get dressed up and pretend not to want to dance and get flustered when he so much as touches a hand. No one in school was worth suffering through this shit for. 

Until now, unfortunately.

He’s a grown-ass man and somehow feels like a dumb, lovestruck teen and it’s all Steve Harrington’s fault.

Him and his fucking face, and his ass, and his looking unfairly good in a suit. 

He looks good in his stupid dorky khakis and paint-splattered apron too, but holy shit Billy never really got the phrase cleans up nice until he saw Steve in formal wear. His hair all combed neatly for once, wearing a blazer and slacks that have clearly been tailored. 

Billy is seriously considering sending a thank you note to whatever tailor Steve visits, because they are very good at their job. 

Good enough that Billy’s spending half his goddamn time staring at Steve’s ass instead of setting up. He’s bossing some volunteers around, gesturing animatedly about crepe paper and streamers and it’s so distractingly endearing that Billy kind of forgets he’s supposed to be doing anything other than watch Steve work.

And he gets caught. Steve turns, spots Billy staring. Scowls. Which is kind of his default expression when looking at Billy. 

As much as Billy secretly wants to have Steve look at him like he can actually stand spending more than five minutes in the same room, the irritated frown kind of suits Steve. It’s cute. And when he gets pissed it’s hot. His eyes get all intense, mouth set in a firm line and Billy may or may not have had a fantasy or two about Steve making that exact face right before absolutely destroying his ass, so...Steve might not like him, but Billy’s dealing. 

By being annoying, but still. 

He wiggles his fingers in a sarcastic little wave, leaning a little more pointedly. He’s been lounging against the wall for way too long, his shoulder is going numb, but he’s not about to scramble to look like he’s doing something just because Steve spotted him.

Steve’s shoulders heave as he sighs, eyes rolling skyward. He hands his clipboard to the nearest volunteer, whispering something before turning on his heel and marching over. 

Billy’s inspecting his nails when Steve reaches him. Stops a few paces away and folds his arms. 

“Something I can do for you, Harrington?” He knows the bored tone gets to Steve, so he plays it up.

“Yeah. You were supposed to be helping Nancy put chairs out. You know, the thing you signed up for?” There’s still an edge to that statement, has been since Billy walked into the first committee meeting with a big, shit-eating grin and Steve glared at him looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel. He always says it all accusatory, like he’s not sure Billy even did sign up, and he’s just hanging around to be a nuisance.

Which, he is, but he’s doing it officially. 

Has his little chaperone badge and everything. It’s pinned to his jacket, which he isn’t actually wearing, but he has it. 

“Got tired,” Billy says with a dramatic weariness, head lolling to the side, rolling back against the wall. He looks up at Steve through his eyelashes. “I’m allowed to take a break aren’t I?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hargrove, you’re telling me moving flimsy plastic chairs tired you out? You’re built like a brick wall.” He puts his hands on his hips and gets the same look he gets when his students start throwing clay around. 

“Are you objectifying me?” Billy puts a hand on his chest with mock-offence, the corners of his mouth turning upward with genuine delight. His grin brightens when Steve’s cheeks flush, gaze darting away, the annoyance flagging a little, replaced with something else for just a moment.

“I’m stating a fact. In a completely...imparted way.”

“Think you mean ‘impartial’.” 

The flush darkens, a splotchy red instead of the petal pink he was a moment ago, and his mouth twists. “Whatever,” he mutters. “You’ve been standing here for like ten minutes, man, get back to work.”

He stalks off in a huff, leaving Billy wondering how the hell Steve knew how long he’d been slacking off for.

Then again, he is in charge, so. He’s probably keeping tabs on everyone. At least that’s what Billy has to tell himself so the butterflies in his stomach don’t get any ideas. 

He wanders off, back to where he was supposed to be, but Wheeler doesn’t actually need his help. She got most of the chairs in place while he was checking out her ex. He gets an impatient brush-off when he half-heartedly asks her if there’s any more work to do. 

She never did like him much. 

Not that he’s bothered, he doesn’t care for her either. She’s too snooty. Up her own ass. Self-righteous. ...and Steve’s ex. 

Rumour has it Steve’s finally over her, but Billy will believe it when he sees it, the man hasn’t been on a date since Wheeler tore his heart to shreds three years ago. 

Heather gossips, okay. She’s nosy, and her family knows Wheeler’s family, who know Steve, and word gets around. These upper class assholes never have anything better to do than talk behind each other’s backs. Especially when the only son of a wealthy family is, at 28, single and teaching snot-nosed brats how to fingerpaint. 

And Billy has a vested interest, sue him. He asks some pointed questions here and there. 

God, he’s never gotten this fucking desperate over a guy before. Pining away. Putting up with Nancy Wheeler bossing him around at meetings because he doesn’t want to piss her off too much just in case that’s the final straw for Steve. The thing that tips their rapport from not-friendly to outright hostile. 

Because for some reason the guy still gives a shit about the ex who cheated on him. Fucking martyr. 

Billy’s not sure if he’s jealous that she gets forgiven and he gets angry glares for no goddamn reason, or if he’s just flabbergasted that anyone would be that self-sacrificing. Both, maybe. It’s a little impressive, honestly. How far out of his way Steve will go to forgive people. 

Except Billy.

Who still doesn’t know what he did wrong in the first place.

Not that it bothers him. No, not at all. He’s just constantly thinking about it, and trying to hold on to every detail of the early days of their interactions so he can analyze those moments for clues, and sometimes lying awake at night wondering if he’s just fundamentally unlovable and he’s never gonna figure out what he did wrong because he just is wrong. 

He’s fine. It’s fine.

Thank god Steve is occupied for the rest of set-up. Always finding someone who isn’t Billy to boss around when he isn’t physically doing something himself. Gives Billy some room to breathe. And watch, like a weirdo.

He gets a couple weird looks from other volunteers but that’s nothing new. Wheeler glaring at him. Heather smirking. That one parent chaperone who’s here early and was making eyes at him at first, but it’s devolved into side-eye. 

He thought maybe the dance actually starting would be a distraction, but it’s just loud. He’s still constantly stealing glances at Steve. While he’s making small talk. While he’s repinning some streamers that got knocked loose. He looks gorgeous, even under the harsh fluorescent lighting of a school gym, and Billy really wishes he had a flask on him right now.

Yelling at some rowdy kids doesn’t help either. Just earns him a dirty look from that one overprotective chaperone mom. No one asked you, lady, the kid was bouncing around like an over-caffeinated gerbil, someone was gonna get hurt. It’s Billy’s job to break that shit up.

He needs a smoke. This is unbearable.

Slipping out of the gym unnoticed is easier than he thought it would be. No one seems to give a shit that he’s sidling out, which is a little insulting, honestly. But useful.

The hallways are quiet. Empty. It’s always a little creepy being here at night. The squeak of his boots on the linoleum, the artificial white light keeping the nighttime gloom out, it always feels a little dream-like. Nightmarish maybe. Liminal. 

He props the door open on his way out, with a chair he lifted from a nearby classroom. The last thing he needs is to get locked out. Embarrassing. He’d probably just leave, but then he’d get chewed out for ditching.

He sighs, turning his face skyward for a moment to breathe before he lights up.

The cool air is a relief after being cooped up with so many rambunctious pre-teens. Billy’s still not a fan of Indiana weather, and he probably never will be, but anything is better than being in there another goddamn second. 

This was a terrible idea. It was barely an idea. An impulse decision that got his ass stuck babysitting on a Friday night just so he could spend more time staring at Steve. 

Pathetic. 

Maybe he should just ditch right now. 

He’s weighing the pros and cons when a familiar voice cuts into his contemplation.

“Hargrove, where the hell did you—” Steve’s face appears when he pokes his head out the cracked-open door. His pinchy annoyed face. He wrinkles his nose when he spots Billy, and the cigarette in his hand. “Seriously?”

Billy shrugs. Puts the cigarette between his lips and takes a pointed drag, cheeks hollowing.

Steve, who was trying to sidle out past the chair, trips. The chair clatters to the ground, Steve stumbling in the opposite direction, arms out and flailing. 

The door slams shut behind him.

Billy gapes, incredulous gaze flicking between Steve, frozen in place, and the closed door. “Seriously?”

“...Shit. I—” Steve grimaces. Runs a hand through his hair, tousling his neatly combed locks. “You have your key, right?”

The glare Billy levels at him is positively icy. “Yeah, no, of course I do, the chair was there for fun. I wasn’t worried about being locked out at all.” 

“Okay, okay, Jesus. You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

“Don’t I?” It comes out far more bitterly than intended. Steve stares at him.

“No? What kind of—” he huffs, loud, frustrated, “What the fuck is your deal, Hargrove?”

Well. That’s a layered question. One he isn’t going to answer even a little bit. He scoffs instead, turning away and taking another angry pull off his cigarette. It warms him but does nothing for the pit in his stomach.

They stand there in silence for a beat. The muffled noise from inside is muted, distant. 

“Fine, whatever,” Steve mutters. “I just don’t get why you hate me so much.”

And he sounds hurt. He sounds sad, and it throws Billy for a loop. Knocks him down a little. But then his chest gets tight, his heart flip-flopping around in the clutches of something caustic and resentful.

He flicks ash in Steve’s direction with an emphatic gesture, a petty vindictiveness. “You’re kidding, right?” he snaps. Steve’s jaw drops, just for a second, surprise passing over his face, before his expression hardens, his mouth snaps shut, jaw clenching.

“Alright, fine, I get it, what’s not to hate.” He clutches his elbows, not quite folding his arms. It looks more like he’s hugging himself. “Good talk.” 

Billy squints at him. The tense line of his shoulders, the way he can’t quite meet Billy’s eye. He’s struck with the absurd urge to pull Steve into his arms. The impulse just pisses him off more. “You know what, princess, you get what you give, alright? You can’t treat someone like shit from the jump and then get mad when they don’t want to be your best fucking friend. Fuck you.” 

“What? I never—”

“Oh, you never? You never asked Heather why she ‘puts up with such an asshole’?” He tosses his hands in the air, air quoting around the phrase, and takes a step towards Steve. “The day after we met? And you never talked over me at my first staff meeting, right? You would never.” Another step. He doesn’t think about it, doesn’t do it on purpose, but he ends up standing inches from Steve. The cold air mists their breath, and it mingles in one seething cloud between them. “You’ve been treating me like the dirt under your shoe since I got here, Harrington, don’t you dare act like you haven’t.”

Steve sets his jaw, a stubborn tilt to his chin. “You were an asshole. I still don’t get why she puts up with you!”

Billy grinds his teeth. He’s asked Heather that himself. With varying degrees of seriousness. It stings hearing it from someone else. 

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be people pleasers,” he spits, hands clenching into fists at his side. To channel his anger, more than anything else. He isn’t seventeen anymore, he can’t just start throwing punches at a co-worker. 

His nails bite into the skin of his palm, sweat stinging the shallow scrapes, and his hands tremble, itch. 

“I’m not—you know what, I’m not doing this with you.” He steps back. Just like that. Like it’s that easy to walk away. Like none of this matters to him, and he’s just...venting frustrations that have nothing to do with Billy. Because Billy doesn’t matter to him. This is about getting locked out of his own stupid party. Or Wheeler saying something bitchy maybe. Or any number of things going on in his life that Billy doesn’t know about because he’s not a part of it. 

And the tumbling, tangling web of twisting thoughts wrap around each other ‘til none of them make sense, ‘til he doesn’t know what he’s upset about he’s just gutted, just standing there in the cold staring at Steve, his eyes stinging and his toes going numb because he didn’t wear his good socks today.

He shouldn’t give a shit about this either, but he does. 

Story of his fucking life, apparently.

Steve’s gaze wanders, looking for what, Billy doesn’t know, but his profile lit up by a dirty streetlamp has got to be the most beautiful fucking thing Billy’s ever seen. He wants to kiss Steve so badly it hurts. 

And he hates that he still does, even when he’s angry. Even bitter and hurting he still wants. 

He flicks his cigarette butt away and shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“The fuck are you looking for, Harrington,” he asks flatly, as Steve cranes his neck peering around the building. 

Steve shoots him a glare. “Trying to remember if any of the doors got left unlocked.” He shivers violently, and sticks his hands in his armpits. “It’s freezing out here, in case you didn’t notice, and I’m not really into the idea of frostbite, so.”

“What, Mr.Born-and-raised-in-Indiana can’t handle a little snow?” Billy sneers. It’s petty, he knows. It’s not fair. Because Steve is out here in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, dressed to be in a sweaty, crowded gymnasium. Billy at least grabbed his jacket before he came out here, knowing he was going to be a while, and he’s still clenching his jaw against the urge to let his teeth chatter. 

The look that earns him is withering, though it’s undercut slightly by the awkward way Steve shuffles his arms around, trying to unroll his sleeves without exposing his fingers to the cold. 

Billy rolls his eyes. “Forget it, pretty boy, Wheeler made her boytoy check all the doors before the dance started. Either wait ‘til someone notices you’re gone or break a window.” 

“Great,” Steve mutters, and shudders again. 

“Why do you still talk to her, anyways?” He tries for casual and misses by a mile. Steve’s eyebrows shoot upwards and Billy tries again. “Just making conversation. We could be out here a while.”

“And that was what you—whatever. She and I are friends. Why wouldn’t I talk to her.”

“C’mon,” Billy scoffs, “Plenty of reasons. You still hung up on her or something? Hangin’ around hoping for another shot?”

“Definitely not.”

It shouldn’t make Billy’s heart leap but it does. Just because he’s not still sniffing around after Wheeler’s granny panties anymore doesn’t mean he has any interest in Billy. “Really now.”

“Yes, really, Jesus Christ. Why do you care.” 

“I don’t.” Billy lies, and looks away, affecting disinterest. He sniffs. “It’s just weird, is all. I sure as shit wouldn’t hang around someone after they cheated on me.”

Steve is staring. Billy can feel his gaze boring into the side of his head. He glances out of the corner of his eye, watches Steve furrow his brow and frown. “It wasn’t—It was more complicated than that. I wasn’t...good. We weren’t good together.” He stops himself, biting his lip, and shakes his head. 

“Hm.” Billy chews his thumbnail. It almost feels like they’re getting somewhere, but it’s so fragile Billy’s afraid to open his mouth and ruin it. The silence stretches, filled only by Steve’s rustling shivers, and Billy’s own unsteady heartbeat. “My car keys are in my jacket pocket,” he ventures, after long enough that the silence has gotten awkward. 

“What! How long were you going to keep that to yourse—”

“Do you want to take advantage of my heater, or not.” 

“Jesus Christ, yes.”

“Alright.”

They don’t talk on the walk over. Snow crunches beneath Billy’s boots, and Steve slips a few times on patches of icy pavement. 

And Billy feels somehow nervous. Like he’s invited Steve to his goddamn bedroom or something. 

Or maybe he’s just worried this tentative peace will end with their conversation going where it always does, blowing up in his goddamn face. But they’ve never actually spent that much time alone, he has no idea how this is going to work. 

Best case scenario it ends with Steve half-dressed in the backseat of his car, but he’s not stupid enough to hope for that.

Fantasize about it, sure, but…

Steve actually being in his car is a surreal experience. Filling the small cab with his clean laundry scent, sweet and subtle, faint enough to be a tease, and he has to restrain himself from taking big embarrassing sniffs to satisfy his sudden craving for more. 

He wonders if the smell will linger. How long Steve will be a phantom presence in his space. 

Waste of time to think about it now, while he’s actually here. 

Billy distracts himself by keeping his hands busy. Fumbling with the keys in his stiff fingers. Poking the overhead button to flip on the interior light. Flicking the dials on his console. The heater’s fan drones almost as loudly as the engine. Somehow the white noise makes the silence less stressful.

Steve rubs his hands together in front of the nearest vent, hissing through his teeth. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t feel my goddamn fingers,” he mutters, the hair on his forehead flopping as he moves. 

“You weren’t out there that long,” Billy chuckles. Steve’s clumsy flailing is stupid endearing, Billy is shamelessly turned in his seat to watch him, the doorhandle digging into his spine, his knee pulled up and leaning on the seat’s backrest. 

“Oh come on, you grew up in California, how are you fine right now?” Steve groans, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. His gaze darts up and down Billy’s form before flicking away again.

It’s common knowledge where Billy is from. He doesn’t exactly hide it. There’s a goddamn Malibu postcard tacked up in his office, pictures of his old surfboard. But it still makes Billy a little giddy that Steve pays enough attention to know that. 

“I run hot,” Billy says casually, and grins, tongue between his teeth. Truth be told, he wasn’t fine, he was fucking freezing, he’s just good at hiding physical discomfort. 

Steve’s cheeks flush a little pinker, and his gaze gets suspiciously focused on the vent in front of him.

“So…” Steve licks his lips, pausing, “Uh. What was it like? California.”

Billy blinks at him. “Warmer than this shithole, for starters.” 

He feels off balance suddenly. First-date-jittery. Which is ridiculous because he’s never gotten first date jitters. And this isn’t a date. Not even close. But still, when Steve laughs quietly it gets the butterflies in Billy’s stomach far too excited. Like he’s ten and discovering the wonders of holding a boy’s hand all over again. 

“I uh. Can’t go back there.” Billy chews the inside of his cheek, watching Steve closely. 

“Why, you a wanted criminal or something?”

Billy snorts. “Glad to know you think so highly of me. No, I meant...lotta shit happened there that I’d rather not remember.”

There were good things too. More good memories in California than after they moved, but that doesn’t stop the awful shit from tainting the whole goddamn state for him. Just makes it harder that it does. 

Hard to want to go back to a place where you almost died, no matter how many times your mom took you to the beach there.

Steve meets his gaze, his eyes soft, and it punches the breath from Billy’s lungs for a second. “Yeah, I get that.” He hums, and tucks his hands between his thighs. The position makes him look oddly demure. “I, uh. Have some experience with avoiding bad memories, y’know. Doesn’t end well. Repressing that kinda shit.”

“Pff,” Billy leans his head back against the window. The cold seeps through his curls. “You sound like Kali.”

“...Who?”

“Biker boots. Side shave. ‘Bout yea tall.” Billy waves his hand around his shoulder. “You met her once. I brought her to that stupid Christmas party couple years back.”

“Oh.” Steve looks down at his lap. “Your girlfriend.”

Billy chokes on his own spit. “What?”

“...Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, no, uh. No. Not even a little bit, man,” Billy laughs a little hysterically. 

“She was your date to that party though, right? Did it not work out, or…?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, and rubs the back of his neck. Steve’s staring, all wide-eyed and confused and fucking adorable. He weighs his options. Wonders how much he should divulge. The easiest way would be to just say no, and move on. The safest way. They’re stuck out here alone and he doesn’t know how well Steve would react to finding out he’s stuck alone with a queer. 

It’s something Billy tends not to take risks on. If guys can’t figure him out on their own, he isn’t going to tell them. But in this case...he’s just annoyed that Steve hasn’t noticed yet. 

And besides, Steve spends half his time hanging around Robin Buckley—who Billy has his suspicions about—so it’s not like there’s no chance Steve would be okay with Billy being gay…

He takes a breath. Exhales slow and stares at the roof of the car. There’s a burn mark next to the rearview mirror where he might’ve stubbed out a cigarette. He’s had this damn car so long he doesn’t remember doing it.

“She’s a friend, Steve. And I borrowed her from her girlfriend that night,” he says, testing the waters. Steve blinks a little, lips parting, but doesn’t react any more than that. Doesn’t seem angry, or judgemental, or disgusted. “I’m not really ready to be out at work. So.” 

“Wait, Robin was right?” Steve blurts, sitting a little straighter, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Of course she noticed,” Billy mutters, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket. He doesn’t ask why Buckley was talking to Steve about him in the first place, let alone about his sexual preferences. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“I mean, she kept going on about lesbian psychic sense, and I told her if anyone’s got a lesbian psychic sense, it’s El, not her, but—” he cuts himself off, flushing. “I, uh. Oh. Huh. Guess I shoulda listened to her when she told me my gaydar was busted.” 

Well. That’s...something. Not the reaction he was expecting. Not that he did know what to expect, but still. “Yeah, you usually need to be queer to spot one,” he shrugs. Like he hasn’t been hoping Steve would pick up on his not-so-subtle hints this whole time, while dreading the possibility with equal fervour.

But Steve freezes then. Shoulders going stiff, his hands stilling. And Billy’s heart leaps. 

“I...” Steve fidgets, his palms rubbing together as he shifts his thighs. “Um. Am. I am. I’m bi.”

“Huh...” Billy licks his lips. “Well, shit, Harrington.”

He wonders how well he pulled off cool and unbothered. It’s usually something he’s alright at, but he’s not usually reacting to the goddamn man of his dreams telling him he’s into guys. His whole chest feels like it’s gonna explode.

“Mhm…” Steve hums, staring at his own hands, his face frustratingly neutral. 

“So.” Suddenly their childish rivalry annoys Billy. When Steve was just a straight boy he was pining after it felt good to punish him for being unattainable. Be up in his space without being too obvious about why. Get him all flushed and bothered in the only way he could. But now… “Why did it take us this long to get here?” Billy asks quietly. He knows his side of the story. Knows his own stubborn asshole nature played its part. But Steve…

His anger from earlier resurfaces. Steve treating him like he wasn’t worth his time, running on a loop in his head. 

He draws his knee up, hugging it to his chest, but keeps the bitterness out of his expression. It’s too likely to end up looking like sadness on his face right now. 

Steve shrugs. “Haven’t we already been through this?” He turns to stare out the window. Billy glares at the back of his head.

“No, Steve, we haven’t. You called me an asshole and then said you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“What else is there to say?”

“How ‘bout an explanation? What exactly did I do to you, pretty boy? And don’t give me that, you were a dick, bullshit, because you hated me from the jump. Way before I did anything to deserve it.” 

And he did, eventually, deserve it. He knows that. Doesn’t make the immediate brush-off feel any better. 

Steve’s back is stiff, and he’s crossed his arms. And he still won’t look at Billy.

Feels like they’re right back where they started, and Billy wants to crawl out of his own skin. He grits his teeth, and hisses, “Listen, I know you come from a family of fuckin’ bigshot lawyers or what-the-fuck-ever, but it doesn’t give you the right to treat people like dirt if they don’t—”

That, at least, gets Steve’s attention. He whips his head around, stares at Billy with his mouth open. “Is that what you think—Billy I haven’t had a real conversation with my parents in nearly ten years, I don’t give a shit about all that.” 

“Then what—”

“You make me feel dumb! Alright? Happy?”

Billy blinks at him. “What?”

Steve groans, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You—you show up here all, all hot and—” he waves a hand, gesturing up and down Billy’s body, “like that, and it was annoying enough that you knew that, strutting around like you own the place, but then you go and open your mouth and—” Steve buries his face in his hands, sighing, rubbing his eyes. “The first time I heard you talk you were explaining some shit about—about—nemo devices or something—”

“Mnemonic.”

“That! That right there, that thing you always do. I get it. Okay? You’re smarter than me. I’m just a dumb art teacher who gets headaches when he tries to read.” Steve throws himself back against the headrest, all furrowed brow and expressive hands.

And Billy stares. Frozen in place. He is, for once, at a loss for words. His mouth works soundlessly as he searches for something to say. But what falls out of him is, “You think I’m hot?” and he mentally slaps himself. 

“Really. That’s your takeaway?”

“No—no, well, I mean. Kind of. Yeah.” He wets his bottom lip. Tongues his cheek. 

Steve groans, “Seriously?” He tugs at a stray lock of hair. “No one who wears pants that tight doesn't know they’re attractive, alright, why is this surprising. I have eyes.”

“Because it’s you.” Billy’s brain slams to a halt the second he says it, shock freezing him in place. Apparently his filter is just fucking broken today, Jesus Christ.

“...What. Y’know what, fuck you, I’m not that unobservant—”

Billy snorts a disbelieving laugh, “Are you sure about that.” 

“Alright, fine, I didn’t realize you were gay, for like, a really long time, but you didn’t notice that I’m queer too, so there!” Steve looks at him, triumphant, like he’s won the argument—if that’s what this even is. And Billy scoffs, stupid, irrational competitiveness tightening like anger in his chest, and—

“It’s not the same, Harrington,” Billy says flatly, heart pounding. 

“And why not?”

“Because you haven’t been after my dick this whole time! You didn’t care if I knew that you’re queer,” he’s almost shouting, frustrated and not even sure what he’s trying to prove, arms thrown wide to punctuate his dumb and nonexistent point, until exactly what he just let slip sinks in. He lowers his hands, clenches them into fists resting on his thighs. Steve hasn’t said a word, he’s just staring, jaw slack. 

“Wait...so—”

“Don’t.” 

“But—”

“Harrington,” Billy growls.  

“Jesus Christ, Billy would you let me—”

“No.”

“I have been though!” Steve yells over him, and it stuns Billy enough that he falls silent. “Dumbass, I have been into you this whole goddamn time, are you kidding me?”

“...What.”

Steve runs restless fingers through his hair, making even more of a mess of it. “Listen, do you have any idea how irritating it was that you’re as hot as you are? I wanted to badly to hate you because you were so fucking annoying, but you were all—” he gestures to Billy, waving his hand around wildly, “like, a fucking...walking wet dream, so.”

“Gee, thanks,” Billy responds, utterly bemused. 

“And then I find out you’re a great teacher, and really smart, and kind of funny when you aren’t being a douche, and suddenly I’m head-over-heels for a guy I’m pretty sure hates me, because I have no self-respect apparently, and—” He stops, chest heaving, eyebrows drawn, and curls in on himself, folding his arms. 

“I never hated you.” 

Steve scoffs, dipping his chin ‘til his face is shadowed by his bangs.

“Listen to me,” Billy scoots forward, wedging his knee over the cupholders between their seats. He hesitates, a hand hovering mid-air while he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. And then touches Steve’s elbow. He jolts, looks up at Billy from under the fall of brown hair hanging over his forehead, his eyes are wide and questioning. Billy presses his fingertips firmer to the warmth of Steve’s skin under his starched dress shirt. “You care about your friends a ridiculous amount, it’s mind-boggling. Honestly. I grew up around people who would’ve barely given a shit if I died, and here you are worrying about everyone in your life, like it’s your fuckin’ job. You’re a good goddamn person, and I wanted…” he pauses, and bites his lip. “I was pissed that I wasn’t one of the people you cared about, alright. Fuckin’ Wheeler gets to be, but I...” He trails off, gestures vaguely.  

Steve’s fingers are cold, sneaking up from under his folded arm to touch the back of Billy’s hand. “You were. You are.” He ducks his head again, the ghost of a smile just barely visible before he disappears into shadow again. “I came out here to check on you, didn’t I?”

“I mean…I was supposed to be helping out inside—”

“Billy, there’s, like, eight volunteers in there, they can handle a bunch of middle-schoolers.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Steve lets out a quiet breath. “I, uh. I’m sorry. I never thought you gave a damn about my opinion, to be honest. I didn’t—I was just…”

“Insecure?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah.” 

And that’s something Billy’s more familiar with than he’d like to be. He squeezes Steve’s forearm. “You’re not stupid, you know.”

“It’s fine, I know I am. Everybody in my life is some kinda damn genius, so. Someone had to draw the short straw.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Steve.” That gets his attention, surprised eye-contact, and Billy tilts his head to maintain it. “I don’t give a shit that your goddamn friends can speak five languages, or understand organic chem, or any of that crap, they aren’t better than you, alright, they’re just nerds.” Steve snorts, and rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips and it makes Billy smile. “Look, you play guitar, right. And you taught that dweeby little friend of yours the chords to his weird song about physics. Wouldn’t have been able to pull that off without at least a couple brain cells floating around under all that hair.” 

“I mean, that was just—”

“That was just something you’re good at. You don’t gotta be able to read Shakespeare to have smarts, you’re just smart about other shit.” 

A blush colours Steve’s cheeks. “I—thanks,” he murmurs. 

Billy doesn’t get a chance to respond.

In the front seat of his beat-up old Camaro, with snow starting to fall outside, gathering silently on the dimly illuminated windshield, Steve Harrington kisses him for the first time. He’s still holding Billy’s hand. One second he’s glancing down shyly, smiling small and crooked, the next…

His lips are soft. Gentle. He kisses like he’s asking permission, barely touching Billy at all. 

Despite the light brush of a kiss, Billy feels it everywhere, lit up with a jolt of electricity right through his chest. He chases Steve when he pulls away, with a hasty press of his mouth, kisses him again. 

And again.

His free hand comes up to cup Steve’s cheek, holding that warmth in the palm of his hand, trying to keep him close for as long as possible. Steve makes a quiet noise against his lips, and his heart clenches, his breath catching in his throat. 

They part eventually, Billy still basking in the phantom sensation of Steve’s smile pressed to his, leaving him tingling and warm. Their foreheads touch, resting together, the point of contact is grounding, the only thing stopping him from feeling like he could float away at any moment. 

“So,” Billy says after a moment, “Fair warning, I’m gonna have to start complimenting you more if that’s how you react to it.”

Steve laughs quietly. His eyes are still closed, so Billy starts counting his eyelashes.

“This some kinda fairy tale, Hargrove? I kiss you and you turn into a polite human being?” 

“Hardly. But I’ll see what I can do about the happy ending part.” 

“The Disney kind, or the massage parlor kind?”

Billy kisses Steve again, grinning. “Both, if I’m lucky.”

And he was.

[superw3nch]

Charlie and Ship Dynamics

1st we have Charlie and Jonathan

These two have been best fucking friends since the playground days

Charlie literally would beat up bullies for him to defend his honor

And Jonathan was just so timid when they were younger so she felt like she had to protect him

Especially from Tommy because fuck him

Season 1 & 2 she puts this poor man through so much shit

Season 3 is no better

I have this AU in mind for an alternative season 3 ending and it’s significantly sadder cause why not

Like significant worse LOL

He’s like constantly worried about her

it’s been that way since they were kids and he just kinda got use to it

He quite literally can’t tell her no

Sometimes though he likes to let her lose on the public because people really just piss them off

And it’s not like they don’t deserve whatever fresh hell she can release on Hawkins

Next we have Charlie and Nancy and these two together are so so much fun

First they both like guns so some times they just go shooting cause why not

They leave Steve and Jonathon at home to do whatever it is they do and they pack a bag full of ammo and snacks to set up their own shooting range in the woods

And they have the best times out there

They just recently became friends again after like years of not speaking to eachother

Cause like pre season 1 Nancy and Charlie did not get alone because she hung out S1 Steve

And Charlie kinda hated Steve

they’re good now though

But she’s dating Jonathan now so they’re two peas in a fucking pod

They are like fericely protective of eachother and it’s like the sweetest thing

Charlie would definitely take a bullet for Nancy and vice versa

The season 3 hospital scene is just them taking turns fucking her boss up

Now for Charlie and Steve LMAO

Season 2 and kinda season 3 Steve and Charlie and just—

Charlie comes up with the worst ideas and most of the time Steve just goes along with it like “omg she’s a fucking genius”

And everyone just goes “no????”

these two together are like so stupid????? Dustin gets a headache sometimes being around them

But like Charlie is actually a nerd so sometimes when they’re ‘babysitting’ Steve has no idea what’s going on he just likes being there

But when they’re together OMG they make so much noise

And the days when for whatever reason they’re not together Billy Steve literally walks around like a kicked puppy

It’s something the kids point out and he just goes

????? What no shut up

Even though it’s very obvious to LITERALLY EVERYONE that there is something there

Both of them are just too stupid

And they all wonder when he will figure it out but at this rate when they graduate college

Next is my two favorite fucking morons

Charlie and Billy

Charlie is very much unaware of the effect she has on Billy and it literally gives him a heart attack almost everyday

And she’s kinda touchy??? Not that he minds but he just isn’t use to it???

He’s not use to someone being so open and honest with him 24/7 and it kinda throws him for a loop

But at the same time he can’t get fucking enough of it

And she’s so smiley and nice and pretty and everything he’s not use to and he just can’t tell her no to anything because of it

She makes him feel like she’s loosing his edge

But like that’s okay because it’s only every with her

Anyone else and he’d beat the living shit out of them

But also he finds her absolutely terrifying??

Because season 2 she like almost shoots him with a shot gun

Yes a fucking shotgun

Then last but not least we have Charlie and Robin

There relationship is something I haven’t got to touch in yet with my fics but

The jist is they get along too well and Steve absolutely hates it

Whenever they’re together they just poke fun at him and he just feels betrayed

Also whenever Jonathon is not around she’s in charge of Charlie

“what did she do today?”

“Tried to push Tommy Hagen down the escalator”

“Ah, that’s actually not that bad”

“??????”

But it’s not the worst job she could have like for example working at scoops ahoy

And Charlie always has bad plans but she figures if she’s apart it maybe less people could get hurt

never does this actually work but

Robin loves Charlie and just doesn’t understand the sorta thing she has with Steve

Because like Charlie is just too cool for Steve in her eyes

But whatever she’ll root for him because he maybe a dingus but he’s her fucking dingus

Artist, not in any order I found their at’s on Twitter

_chocolattea

Byelacey

paintedpaw

hannathenarc

koidoodles

Retquits

Bl00d Alchemical

[skullrock]

casanova - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: You try to save Steve from himself when he gets a little too drunk at a party. 

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst!!!, self doubt, alcohol, drugs, party scenes

a/n: yes I know y'all want fluff and I keep feeding you angst I am so sorry 

===

You watched Steve from afar once you filled a red plastic cup with water, passing it off as straight vodka.

You’d never drink straight vodka, but it worked.

Steve had begged you to come with him to a party, to get fucked up, to let loose. It had been three weeks since Nancy left him for Jonathan, and three weeks since Bob Newby died, and the Gate was closed. Steve was spiraling, and fast. He was always one to want to be the center of attention, but he had become even more desperate for any kind he could get. You were just thankful Billy kept a large distance between them – or you were pretty sure Steve would beat the shit out of him. Steve’s face had only just healed, and his memory was failing him, but he refused to get checked out – he just wanted to get as shitfaced as humanly possible.

And as you stand across the room and watch him, talking to a group of people loudly, you can’t help but feel like you failed him. You should have forced him to stay home. You feel nauseous just looking at him – how his shoulders sag with the weight of the world on him. How he can’t stand upright because of the alcohol. How his eyes are just slits from the pot. You are counting down the seconds until you intervene, but your nerves keep you against the wall.

Steve makes eye contact with you from where he’s standing, and his eyes squint even more as a large smile spreads on his face. It makes you sick. It’s genuine, but it’s not genuine. If he were sober, he wouldn’t be smiling that fucking big.

He meanders over to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Hey!”

“Steve,” you say, knees buckling under the weight of his arm. “You okay?”

“No,” he says. “’Cause you’re not drinkin’.”

“I am,” you reply, holding up the cup.

Steve snorts. “That’s water.” He points to his head. “I’m not stupid.”

You nod. “Okay, buddy.”

“’m gonna get more,” he says, but you pull on the back of his sweater.

“No,” you say. “You’ve had enough. Just relax, alright?”

“Alright, dad,” he says, laughs loudly, and then stalks away.

You want to drink. You want to drink so bad. The headache that’s building gnaws on your brain, and you know it’s only going to get worse. The music makes your head pound, too, so you head off to a bathroom to calm down.

Steve knows he’s gone too far tonight, but he decides to lean into it instead of sobering up. The dizziness in his head feels good. Making people laugh feels good. He feels wanted and loved for the first time since Billy stepped foot in Hawkins, and it’s intoxicating. He loves the fame, the attention, he loves feeling the smile on his face. He throws back drink after drink, smokes puff after puff, and soon, he can hardly stand.

He sits on the couch, watching the room wave around him. He hears someone talking beside him, and he turns. It’s a girl he doesn’t know – or maybe doesn’t remember – and he blinks hard. “Hello.”

Soon, her hand is resting on his knee, and his is on hers, and they’re leaning in too close. He loves it. She’s not Nancy – he knows that, he knows that – but he can pretend. He can pretend someone wants him and loves him. It doesn’t hurt him. Not when he’s this fucked up, at least.

But you’ve come to his rescue, pulling him up from under the arms, dragging him as he loudly protests out to your car. He stumbles, he slurs, he shouts, but you keep pulling him.

Seeing him with that girl nearly made you throw up. And not because of your own feelings for the guy - but because Steve was about to be taken advantage of, and you could have prevented that from simply not letting him get this fucked up in the first place. You know he will hate you for “ruining his shot”, but you weren’t about to let him get hurt like that. He’s been through enough.

You get Steve into the car and buckle him up. He’s gone silent and you know it’s because he’s filling with rage. You know there will be a tantrum coming, and you mentally prepare yourself for whatever insults King Steve can find within him.

Halfway to his house, he finally speaks. “You’re an asshole.”

You wince but remain unfazed. “Okay.”

“Can’t believe… trying to ruin my life.”

You sigh heavily. “I’m not ruining your life.”

“You are.” He squeezes his eyes shut.

You stay silent, not wanting to fuel it further.

Steve seems to forget that he’s mad at you for a moment when you’re pulling him out of the car. Actually, he acts like he doesn’t remember being in the car with you at all, giving you a surprised, “Hey!” when you sling his arm over your shoulder. You grab the spare key under his welcome mat and stumble inside, Steve making no effort to walk for himself.

You finally get him into his room, gently sitting him on the bed. He grabs your hands and pulls you towards him, but you push off quickly, blushing profusely. It’s then that Steve realizes you’re not the girl he was flirting with on the couch, and his eyes read betrayal. He stands and falls back down on his ass, huffing. “The fuck is your problem?”

Here we go, you think. “Steve –“

“Why can’t you let me be happy?”

“I’m not the one getting in the way of your happiness, Steve.”

“’s that supposed to mean?”

You rummage through his desk to find his ibuprofen. You bite your tongue, although you want to tell him off so badly.

Your silence only fuels Steve. “’s your problem? Why can’t you have… have fun? With me?”

You slam a drawer shut and turn to him. “What’s so fucking fun about getting shitfaced at any available chance?”

Steve looks surprised, but his eyes narrow. “You’re just as bad as her.”

You laugh. “I’m just as bad as Nancy? For saving you from yourself?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

You roll your eyes and open another drawer, finding the ibuprofen. You take out a few and shove them towards Steve with a water bottle from his nightstand, but he just slaps your hand so that the pills fly everywhere.

Steve, when angry, acts like a four-year-old, and he’s even worse when he’s drunk.

“Fine,” you say, sitting the bottle and the water on his nightstand. “You can suffer in the morning. I did my part.”

“You have no right,” he says, voice surprisingly clear, “to tell me what to do with my life. I wanted to be with that girl.”

“No, Steve, you didn’t. You wanted to feel special.”

“Is that so bad?”

You shake your head and turn to go towards his wardrobe to get him new clothes. He reeks of cheap beer and pot. “You need to start taking care of yourself.”

He stands then, striding over to where you are and pushing you to the side to grab his own pajamas. You roll your eyes at him and step aside, letting him clumsily search through his things. He pulls out a white t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that definitely don’t fit him anymore. He throws his clothes off aggressively, stumbling as he puts the shorts on, and then looks at you like he’s just done something incredible.

You’re pretty impressed, because he usually wears his party clothes to sleep.

You walk him back to his bed, gently sitting him down again. His fists are clenched, and his jaw is tight – it’s heartbreaking to see him like this. Tears well in his eyes and he whispers, “I hate you.”

“You hate me for taking care of you more than anyone has in a year?” you ask, kneeling in front of him. You grab his hands and force him to lace his fingers through yours. His grip is still tight, but he’s not at risk of breaking his fingers on his palms. “You hate me for caring about you?”

“I don’t need your help,” he slurs. “I’m not a kid.”

“You do need help, Steve. I’m not letting you get like this every week. I’m –“

“You’re worse than her, do you know that?”

It hurts, but you were prepared for that low blow. “You’ll get over it, Steve.”

He ungrips your hands, pushing you away weakly. “I want you to go.”

“Fine,” you say. You stand, but then kneel back down again. You gently grab his wrists and try to catch his eyes. “Steve… there’s more to life than stupid Nancy Wheeler.”

“You think this is just about Nancy?” His voice cracks and a tear falls onto his cheek. “You think – you think it’s just because the love of my life left me?”

You’re silent.

“It’s because Billy Hargrove beat my head in so fucking bad that I – I can’t even remember my locker combination. It’s because everyone looks at me like I’m dirt. It’s because girls treat me like I’m a temple, or whatever – I don’t remember the saying. God, I don’t remember anything.” He takes a shaky breath. “My head hurts, all the time. It races. I can’t fall asleep until four in the morning. I worry about the kids on an hourly basis. Bob Newby died, and I couldn’t do a god damn thing to save him.”

Your eyes shoot downwards, guilt coiling around your gut, hot and tight.

“And to take the cake – the girl I loved, more than anything in the world, left me for the same guy she told me not to worry about. She told me I was bullshit. She told me I killed Barb.” You hear him sniffle and your heart aches. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

“No,” you whisper – because you truly don’t.

It’s quiet for a long time. Your eyes are locked on the floor, and Steve’s are locked on his comforter. Finally, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs out of the grip of your hands on his wrists. “I want you to go.”

“Okay.”

You make your way towards the door before he calls out, “Can you tuck me in?”

His voice is so small and weak. Steve hates it more than anything. He feels like a kid again – he feels just like he did when he had nightmares and his parents didn’t do anything but send him back to bed. But he wants that safety – needs it – and so he needs you to tuck him in.

You walk back. Steve lays down, wrapping his arms around a pillow and tucking his knees up to his chest. You tuck the sheets in tightly around him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. You can see tears running down his cheeks, and you again whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he says. He sounds worn and exhausted.

“Steve,” you say quietly. “I care about you so much.”

“I know.”

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” You’re about to walk away when Steve’s hand emerges from the covers, grabbing yours. He pulls and you trip, falling onto the bed, and Steve opens the blankets up for you to crawl under.

“Stay,” he says. “Please.”

You take a deep breath and contemplate – is it really okay to crawl in with him? But he looks so lost and sad, and you don’t want to leave him on his own tonight. So you crawl in, wrapping your arms around Steve tightly.

You can feel his tears on the cold sheets. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry I fucked it all up.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” you explain, holding him tighter. “I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to prove yourself.” Your throat starts to burn as tears creep in. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

“I don’t want to feel like that, either.”

It’s quiet for a bit more, and you think maybe Steve’s fallen asleep. But then he whispers, “You’re not like her. I don’t hate you.” He pauses. “And I don’t hate her.”

“I know,” you say. You reach for one of his hands and stroke his thumb with yours. “It’s alright, Steve.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“I want to get better, Y/N.”

You press your forehead into his shoulder. “I want to help you get better.”

Steve picks up your hand and presses his lips to the back of it. Your stomach flips and jumps and twists, the breath knocked out of you. You love him.

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers. “You’ve been here for me through everything. And you never ran away. You never left.”

“How could I?” you ask. “You’re the best thing in my life.”

“I love you,” he says. It’s weak and faint, but there’s a truth behind it, whatever that truth may be.

“I love you, too.”

Soon, his breaths become shallow, and his chest rises and falls softly. You press yourself tighter against him and squeeze the arm circling his torso. He might forget it in the morning – he almost certainly will – but you love him, too, and you’re going to help him get better.

===

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[willel]

On this day, I’d like to talk about my feelings on Season 3.

I know I know. You roll your eyes. You’ve seen me talk about it before. But actually you haven’t. Not totally. If anything, you’ve just seen my inquisitional frustration now and then on how they decided to write it.

Make no mistake, I think Stranger Things 3 is the worst of the 3 seasons. Is it the worst tv ever? Nah.... though this is someone who doesn’t really watch tv other than Stranger Things (more of a reader myself). I usually watch youtubers rip tv shows apart instead.

So based on that, do I think Stranger Things 3 is worse that 13 Reasons Why, Riverdale, or uh.... hm.... oh! the last seasons of Game of Thrones? Well, no.

So how do I truly feel? Weirdly enough, I feel the same as I did when I finished watching it the whole time. I felt like... I was waiting for the ball to drop, episode to episode. I can’t pinpoint exactly what I was waiting for, but whatever it was didn’t come.

I didn’t.... FEEL as much as I did the first 2 seasons? And I felt like that was by design. They didn’t bring in the heartfelt stuff until literally the VERY end and by then, it was too late for me to feel invested in all these characters I genuinely like.

I never truly felt like anyone was in danger, especially not the Scoop Troop. Even as Steve was being tortured and had his daylights knocked out... it was just a *shrug* like moment for me.

Even when Hopper supposedly died.... I was kinda feeling like “meh. I doubt it.”

And I’m not trying to say someone HAS to die for me to feel something. No one died in Season 2 (except Bob) and I was still on the edge of my seat while they were interrogating Will or when they started panicking cause the Mind Flayer found their location. I was concerned that maybe El wouldn’t be able to close that humongous gate and Hopper would get eaten by demodogs before they even made it there. I was worried possessed Will would get loose before they managed to exercise the Mind Flayer and maybeeee he’d die or suffer more or something.

So for months, I guess more than a year now, I’ve just been debating my feelings on things. I’ve come to this conclusion.

Even though I didn’t really like the season overall, there were too many things in the season I did like to make me actually hate it.

Will’s arc that lasted about 3 episodes was off to a great start. I was really looking forward to it until it disappeared.

Murray’s friendship with Joyce... I dunno. I actually really loved that. They’re kinda similarly paranoid investigative people who bother Hopper in their own little way. It’s cute, like they’re long lost siblings.

Even if they laid it on a little thick, El and Max’s friendship was much needed and I’m glad that even though El was still trying to copy Max a little too much, Max was also doing her best to remind El now and then to find herself and no one else.

I like that El is now living with the Byers and that they’re moving away. It makes TOTAL sense that Joyce would pack up and leave Hawkins. Too much shit has gone down there, she needed to go for her and her kids sake + El.

Even though I wish the resolution had been different, Jonathan and Nancy clashing due to their backgrounds (being a woman vs being poor) was very interesting to me. I would’ve loved to have more of it. Not more arguing, just more talking about it other than the apology.

I love love love, first of all, Lucas reaching out to Will multiple times after the huge blow up trying to make amends. Some of it is in the background. And that CUTE HUG AT THE END. I love Will and Lucas. <3 Lucas is such a good friend even with a few screw ups there and there.

Jonathan for at least a second taking the big brother role for El and trying to cut that thing out of her leg. Trying to reassure her it’s gonna hurt but it’s gotta be done. So sweet even if gross

And then there’s the things I didn’t like that just... brought down my mood. Here’s a few.

Hopper was just... look. I don’t hate his character. I see this solely as a writing issue, not necessarily a character issue. I feel we could’ve ended up with the exact same plot if we cut out about 50% of Hopper’s snark. I get being overprotective of El and the old “Dad hates the boyfriend jokes”. Whatever. Would’ve been better if Mike ACTUALLY screwed up all by himself and Hopper was just enjoying the moment rather than Hopper being the cause of it.

And I get the whole Hopper really wanting to date Joyce stuff, but... I just can’t see how we go from season 1 and season 2 Hopper who was ready to throw hands with his deputies for implying Joyce was crazy. And the Hopper that really truly completely understood what Joyce was going through (anxiety,depression, and loss). How did that guy turn into someone trying to rush Joyce’s mourning along (after he mourned for his daughter for like, 6 years) and him being the one implying she’s crazy? It’s just weird. I can’t deal. It’s WEIRD.

No Jonathan and Will scenes. They’re finally on the adventure together and there’s still NOTHING. In the mall, Will is damn near having a panic attack hardly able to keep quiet and JONATHAN DOESN’T EVEN GLANCE IN HIS DIRECTION

No Jonathan and Joyce scenes. Mother and son who?

No Nancy and Mike scenes. They didn’t do it for season 2. Surely they won’t forget this time and give the siblings some screen time??? Nope. Bet 75% of the fandom forgot they’re even related.

No Max and Billy scenes. Not a fan of Billy, but Billy is her step brother. Why the hell wouldn’t the writing put a little more focus on that? Surely Max would be more suspicious of Billy acting weird or even nice to her? Surely they’d give her more moments of showing... something over the fact that her step brother is the big bad?

No Will and El scenes. Obviously I’d be annoyed at this. But you’d think the monster radar and the psychic girl would be butting their heads together a bit more to figure out what’s going on? This ties into Will’s evil senses only working 5 minutes too late. How did he sense the Mind Flayer smoke from 10 miles away, but now he can’t sense the huge flesh monster until it’s a couple meters above him?? No logical sense.

Complete erasure of Kali. I didn’t miss the fact that when El was having flashbacks of her mom, they pretty much cut out any mention or thought of Kali. Surely after that heartfelt goodbye, El would at least think of Kali for a moment and get distracted. She decidedly hid the fact that Kali exists from everyone else, wouldn’t it be nice if we saw her character still thinking about that secret from time to time??

And the final point that I feel like typing out tonight, too much focus on El. And I don’t mean it in the way you’re probably thinking. I mean that basically NO ONE is able to save El. EVER. She has to do everything up until the final moment. Mike and the gang isn’t allowed to save El from Billy choking her out. She ends up having to save them. No one can save El from the flesh eating vagina monster. She has to defend herself completely. Jonathan isn’t allowed to get the worm thing out of her leg, she has to pull it out herself. Mike and Max can’t do anything to protect her from Billy again. They all fail and she yet again has to save herself.

Ok, that’s all I wanted to say.

ST3 is like a..... 45 / 55 scale for me, and the 55 is the bad part.