#will byers stop doing this to yourself challenge

[gayofthefae]

Thinking again about:

“You saw that girl and she was in the sandbox, and she was crying"

"You gave her your tonka truck"

"And i told you we couldn’t afford to buy another one."

"You said she should have it"

"because she’s sad. She’s sad, Mommy.”

@sspiderj: x

[thetargaryenbride]

Nail To The Coffin - S2 - Chapter 7

Warnings: blood, injury, stitching, bruises, that kinda things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 6979

A.N: Things get a bit bloody. I feel like Reader has the same fate as Steve at this point. Both of them getting wrecked at the end of every season haha If that doesn’t scream “true soulmate” I don’t know what does lmao As always, please do make me know if I’ve written certain characters OOC and if you think there is something that can be corrected within the story. Thank you for reading. Hope you like it! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 6 || Chapter 8

“Mother of God,” muttered Owens as everyone stared at the monster that had just crawled out of the abyss and got close to the glass separating you from it.

Hopper leaned a bit to inspect it. You knew what he was thinking. The thing, even though it was a bit smaller and couldn’t stand on two legs, looked exactly like the Demogorgon. What you had speculated came to be true. The monster was really back. Although this time it wasn’t just one. There were multiple of them.

It snarled and lurched forward hitting the glass and making you all jump. 

“It’s…It’s polycarbonate. It can’t get through,” reassured Owens even though he didn’t seem to believe in his own words.

The monster, as if taking this as a challenge, let out a loud, echoing growl, calling its siblings who immediately answered the call and started crawling out of the hole, one after the other.

“Uhm, ok, maybe it can hold against one of them but against a dozen? I don’t think so,” you quipped and just as you said that, the monsters lunged at the glass and began landing hit after hit, quickly creating cracks in the structure.

“Yeah, you sure about that glass?”

“I think we should go,” you took a step backward. “Now!” you yelled panicked which drew Hopper’s attention and he signaled you towards the door while Owens pressed a button and suddenly all alarms were blaring.

You didn’t waste a second in bolting out of the place, Hopper and Dr. Owens hot on your tail. You stopped by the large metal door and let all people go through before Hopper closed it.

“This way! The stairs!” instructed the doctor as he ushered you and Hopper towards a staircase and you began climbing like your life depended on it.

Because it did.

Before you knew it, you were storming into Will’s room. You looked in confusion as you saw your mom with a syringe and your brother passed out cold.

“We gotta go! We gotta go!” said Hopper urgently and you didn’t hesitate to take Will into your arms while Mike grabbed a bottle of anesthetic drug and all of you ran out of the room and into the hallways, following Dr. Owens’ lead. Monsters had swarmed the whole institute and the sounds of shooting, growling, and screaming people came from every turn and corner as you ran down the corridors.

“Come on!” the man pretty much forced you into a room after you heard growling and shouting coming from somewhere ahead and you hid inside and locked the door, staying silent and unmoving as you waited for the storm to pass and watched the shadows of the monsters pass by.  

You panted as you laid Will down on a table and planted one hand on the surface to support yourself while the other flew to grasp your head and rub it in hopes of battling off the headache that had increased drastically due to all the rapid movements. You squeezed your eyes and let out a quiet grunt through your teeth as you waited for it to go away. Meanwhile, everyone looked at the camera monitors, seeing total chaos and death unravel right in front of their eyes.

“Oh, my God,” let out Bob which drew your attention and you peeked through your fingers, tired eyes widening at the sight.

Almost every hallway was littered with Demogorgons.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the lights began flickering before the electricity went out completely, leaving you all shrouded in darkness. 

“Ok, what do we do now?” you asked as you wrung your hands nervously and Joyce came to your side to wrap an arm around your shoulders and bring you close as you looked expectantly at the doctor. “We’re-we’re trapped. There’s no way we can get out of here without attracting the monster’s attention. I mean, if it was one, sure. They rely mostly on their sense of smell and hearing so as long as you’re sneaky and don’t get hurt and bloody, you’re good. But there are dozens of them!” you rambled on with a trembling voice.

“We can still try,” muttered the doctor as he scurried to open a drawer and pull out a couple of large papers, slapping them onto the desk, while Hopper turned on the flashlight so everyone could see. “Look, this is us,” he grabbed a marker and drew a circle on the blueprint of the lab, “and this is the nearest exit. I’m sure we can… somehow make it there. The thing is that… there’d be no way out if we don’t fix this one problem at hand.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hopper.

“The locks are fail-secure which means if there’s a power outage the building goes on full lockdown,” clarified the doctor.

“So, that’s the problem. Ok. Can it be unlocked remotely?”

“With a computer, sure, but somebody’s gotta restart the breakers.”

“Where are the breakers?”

“In the basement, three floors down,” before he even finished the sentence, Hopper was already turning his back on him and heading for the door.

“Where are you going!?” asked Bob fretfully.

“To reset the breakers,” answered Hopper like it was the most obvious thing in the world and you clicked your tongue. Of course that he would always get the dirty job done but you weren’t sure he’d be right to do so this time around.

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you drawled and he arched a quizzical eyebrow.

“How come?”

“Cause when you reset the breakers the only thing that’s gonna change is that we’ll get the power back on,” you unraveled and Bob nodded.

“Exactly! If you actually want to unlock the doors, you have to completely reboot the computer system and then override the security codes with a manual script.”

“Which I highly doubt you know how to do,” you added and the man looked back and forth between the two of you, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Fine, then just tell me how do I do that?”

“You can’t! Not unless you know BASIC,” exclaimed Bob, and Hopper sighed.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s a computer program language,” joined Mike.

“Then teach it to me!”

“Shall I teach you French while I’m at it, Jim?” scoffed Bob. “How about a little German?” he turned around to face Owens. “How about you doc? You speak BASIC?”

“No.”

“Okay…okay, I got this…I got this,” he exhaled with a small confident smile and your face fell.

“No, Bob,” your mother shook her head as she tried to protest and stop the man but he reassured her that he’d be fine and that he’d complete the task without a problem. You looked away as they hugged, hand going to rub your face and move to your neck, as more worry and helplessness began settling in.   

Shortly after, you said your goodbyes to Bob as he and Hopper exited the room and went to retrieve some weapons. When Hopper returned, you whirled around to face him and your mother.

“It’s not too late. Let me go with him. I can protect him!”

“No!” exclaimed Joyce firmly. “This is out of the question!” she waved her hands categorically and you sniffed.

“He's risking his life! For our family! And none of us is going to lend him a hand?!” you looked at them with an expression full of sadness and guilt.

“Honey, do you think I don't want to!? I just can't!” cried out Joyce. “I can't shoot! I can't do a-anything to help! And we need Hopper because how else are we supposed to keep Mike and Will safe!?”

“That's why I offered to go!”

“No, kid!” Hopper joined in. “This is non-negotiable! This time I'm serious!” he stated sternly as he leveled you with a look and you faced away. “You're not going out there and that's final!”

All you could do was wait and pray.

“Why are the lights off?” inquired Jonathan.

“Maybe it’s closed?” offered Nancy unsurely.

“Security took the night off? I don’t think so,” he closed the car’s door as he went to the security cabin in order to inspect and see if pressing buttons would do the trick but it didn’t. And that only made him get more anxious because things were going from bad to worse and he was pretty sure that his family was most probably trapped in the lab right now and he didn’t know what to do.

“It’s not working?”

“No! The power’s off.”

“Jonathan?”

“What?”

The two of them fell into silence, bodies stilling, as they heard rustling nearby.

“I think there’s something in the woods,” muttered the girl as she began walking towards the sound and he quickly went after her, grasping her by the shoulder to pull her back.

“Nancy. Nancy, stay back.”

But then they saw lights peeking through the trees and their rapidly beating hearts calmed down a bit as they came to the realization that there were humans out there and not monsters.

“Hello?! Who’s there!?”

It was no other than Steve and the kids who exited the forest and both parties halted and stared at one another in confusion and shock.

“Steve?” exclaimed both Nancy and Jonathan.

“Nancy?”

“Jonathan?” shouted Steve and Dustin at once.

“What are you doing here!?”

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for Mike, Will, and Y/N,” explained the girl, and Dustin and Steve looked at each other in confusion.

“Y/N and Will? I thought they were home. Didn’t Y/N call yesterday, saying she’ll be staying home with Will because his situation was worsening?” Dustin turned to look at Lucas and the boy nodded.

“She did. But then she never called again. Mike got very worried. I think he went to check on them and see what was going on.”

“Well, they weren’t home. Nobody was,” Jonathan threw his hands in defeat and Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. It was pure chaos for a minute and then dead silence engulfed the whole group.

“They are not… You don’t think they are in there…are they?” asked Dustin hesitantly and everyone turned to look at the dark lab as a suffocating unsettling feeling crept within everyone.

Then the screeching of monsters echoed, making them all jump in fright.

And now Steve couldn’t help but think that yes, you were most definitely stuck in the lab with monsters lurking in the darkness. His heart burst out of his chest at the thought of something bad happening to you and he almost immediately bolted for the building to see if he’d be able to somehow get inside and save you.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost you.               

You let out a big sigh of relief once the lights flickered and turned back on, showering the room in bright luminescent light. It usually made your eyes burn a bit but now it made you the happiest person ever. The others seemed to share the sentiment and you turned to look at the now working camera monitors, seeing Bob by the computer.

“He made it,” commented Mike and you smiled.

Bob was actually really, really smart. Sure, you had enjoyed his goofy personality since the moment your mother had introduced him to you, but what you appreciated more about him was his intelligence. You were grateful that over the course of a couple of months, he had helped expand your knowledge. You hadn’t learned much other than some basics – it was only theoretical knowledge, not practical knowledge – but now you were looking forward to expanding that knowledge even more, seeing as how it could be useful in such circumstances. You were definitely going to ask Bob to teach you more once you got out of here and fixed the whole situation with Will and the shadow creature.

“Ok, Bob, can you hear us?” Dr. Owens interrupted your train of thought as he spoke to the man.

“Loud and clear, doc. Can you hear me back?”

“We hear you.”                                                       

“All right, give me a minute,” he said and you all waited nervously before he finally said the magic word. “Open Sesame,” and the doors got unlocked.

“It’s open!”

“Son of a bitch did it.”

For a moment you had all gotten a near heart attack when you saw a monster going Bob’s way but the man was smart and he managed to distract it by turning on the fire alarm sprinkler system.

“Ok! Ok, that worked! Now, get out of there!”

“And I think we should go as well,” Joyce commented and Hopper nodded as he approached the table Will was laying on but you intercepted him and shook your head. “No, I got this,” you took Will in your arms, letting out a grunt. He was surely growing up and getting heavier.

“You sure you don't want me to carry him?” asked Hopper with an arched brow and you nodded.

"It's fine. Your hands have to be free so you can shoot if push comes to shove. Go on. We gotta hurry," you ushered and everyone got out of the room after Dr. Owens handed Hopper a walkie-talkie, telling all of you that he’d stay behind to look out for you and guide you and Bob out of the building safely.

Anxiety was eating you from the inside out as you moved silently through the corridors. You were flooded with memories of the time you spent in the Upside Down, running and hiding from the Demogorgon.

And to think you had sworn to never play hide and seek again.

Will was heavy in your arms and your body was exhausted and aching due to the lack of proper rest and the blow to the head you had received thanks to the vines, making your head buzz and your arms and legs feel a sting as if someone was prickling them with needles. But the adrenaline and the fear running in your system, coupled with the determination to leave this wretched place and bring your brother to safety, gave you the needed strength and pushed you to keep on going.  

And at last, you reached the exit.

The sound of a door sliding open was probably the best thing you’ve heard in a while. You and Hopper let Mike pass first, then it was your turn with Hopper following close behind. Your mother stayed inside, however, waiting for Bob. Your eyes darted between her and the others, heart-clenching, and you let out a sigh, passing Will onto Mike and Hopper.

“I’ll go to her,” you informed them and after a hesitant nod from Hopper, you went to join your mother inside, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “He’s gonna be fine. Dr. Owens is guiding him through the hallways. He’ll evade the monsters and come out safely,” you tried encouraging her and she nodded but you could see she was beyond worried and you couldn’t blame her. You were worried too.

You slowly approached the large double doors and hesitantly wrapped your hand around the handle. You gulped as you opened the door slightly, enough so that your eye could peek through the thin crevice.

“Y/N, get away from the door,” scolded your mother in concern but you opened it a bit more instead. The hallway was empty and there was no sound of growling nearby. You don’t know if it was your intuition that had prompted you to open the door but whatever it was you were grateful for it because thanks to that you were able to see Bob round the corner and run full speed towards you.

“Shit!” you cursed as you opened the door fully which allowed Bob to pass by without a hassle and you immediately shut it close and locked it, your body jerking when the monster hit the wooden surface.

Your breathing was ragged as if you had just run a marathon but really it was only the stress and the fear. You stared at the door that was shaking and bouncing under the hits of the monster and you whirled to look at the man who was stupidly standing there and looking at your mother instead of running. You rushed to his side and grasped his arm.

“We have to go! C’mon!” you forced him to move forward, practically shoving him towards your mother.

But just before you could take a step after him, part of the door got thrown open and the monster flew inside right towards you. You let out a sharp gasp as it tackled you to the ground.

Joyce witnessed it all unfold with wide eyes, hands flying to her face as she watched the monster sink its claws into your left side, slashing at you. You let out a pained screech that mingled with your mother’s terrified one, eyes shutting as your body convulsed because of the unbearable pain. Hopper entered the lab immediately, face falling in shock and panic at the sight.

Suddenly, you felt the Demogorgon’s weight disappear, its claws being pulled out of your flesh. You turned your head and opened your eyes only to see that Bob had wrestled the monster off you and was now trying to keep it at bay. He couldn’t fight it for long and he yelled in pain when it sunk its claws into him just as it had done to you.

You could only watch in utter mortification as you felt arms wrap around your body and lift you to your feet. Hopper didn’t hesitate to pick you up, managing to carry you with one arm while he tried shooting at the monster with the other that was holding the weapon. You could hear screaming but at this point, everything was mixing together. You could hear both your mother and Bob screaming and sobbing and you could hear multiple monsters growling and screeching as they broke down the door completely and joined their sibling in tearing up Bob and you could hear Hopper yelling at your mom to go.

He had given up the thought of saving Bob already and was pushing Joyce away from the scene and out of the lab, harshly opening the door and leading you all outside.

“No!” she screamed as she looked back at the bloody scenery and Hopper went to stand in front of her and block out the view.

“He’s gone!” he yelled. “He’s gone but your children are still alive and they need help! We have to go!” he tried to snap her back to her senses while Mike looked between the three of you in panic.

Then the sound of honking came through and everyone turned to look at Jonathan and Nancy driving by.

“C’mon! Get in!” shouted Jonathan and Joyce stumbled forwards, helping Mike carry Will into the car before climbing in as well.

Meanwhile, Hopper adjusted his hold on you and ran to his car and only when you were put down on the seat did you snap back to reality and the pain returned full force, making you whine as your hand flew to the bleeding wound. Your clothes were torn at the place it had slashed and there was blood everywhere – on your hands, on your pants, on your abdominal area.

“Hang in there, kid, you hear me!?” asked Hopper as he grasped your face firmly but got no response other than a sob. “I need to know you can hear me! C’mon, kid,” he shook you lightly and you nodded. “Alright, alright, that’s good,” he closed the door and got onto the front seat, speeding off after Jonathan.

A minute later, both cars were already at the front gate, stopping to pick up the rest of the group. Joyce placed Will on her lap so Mike could scooch over and open a seat for one more person. 

“Harrington, get in! I need you here!” yelled Hopper and Steve looked between the two cars before he climbed in the backseat of Hopper’s, followed by Max, and his eyes widened when they landed on your bleeding form while Dustin climbed on the passenger seat.

“W-what happened!?” exclaimed Steve.

“Got attacked by those monsters,” snapped Hopper. “Try to put pressure on the wound and stop the bleeding!” he ordered and Steve looked around in panic, wondering what to do. Max was no better as she just stood in shock trying to process what was happening. Steve clumsily took off his jacket and bunched it up, proceeding to place it above the wound and add pressure. You whimpered in pain, body spasming, and his one hand went to push away the damp strands of hair and grasp your face in an attempt to reassure you, smearing blood on your skin in the process.

Dustin turned to look at you from the front seat, eyes filled with horror while Max snapped to look at Hopper.

 “W-we have to go to-to the hospital,” she stuttered out and Hopper shook his head.

“No hospital! We don’t know what’s gonna happen with Will when he wakes up. And apparently, she also has this…mark from that thing. We’ll end up attracting those things there and we can’t risk it and put this many people in danger.”

“What?!” Steve snapped his head to look at the man. “But Y/N-“

“We’ll clean and stitch her wound ourselves. If we’re unable to stop the bleeding, we’ll take her to the hospital.”

“We’ll be gambling with her life then!” screamed the boy with eyes full of anger and panic and Hopper tightened his lips. Just when he was about to change his mind and choose to drive to the hospital, you spoke out.

“No hospital,” you groaned and Max sniffed, looking at you.

“You-you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t want to,” you coughed. “I d-don’t want to put pe-people in danger,” you stammered out as you grasped Steve’s hand and he looked away, trying to blink a couple of times in order to prevent tears from gathering in his eyes.

“I just want to go home.”

You didn’t know how much time passed since you set off but to you, it seemed like ages until you finally felt the car come to a stop when Hopper parked in front of your house.

Steve threw open the door and jumped out, quickly reaching back to pull you towards himself and position you properly so he could take you into his arms. Meanwhile, Hopper jogged towards the house and pretty much kicked the door open to make way for Steve to pass through. Jonathan watched in utter shock and horror as he rushed to get out of his car, followed by a terrified Nancy, Lucas, Dustin, and Max. Mike ran to help Joyce get out of the car as she tried to adjust her hold on Will and carry him, and everyone hurried to enter the house.

You groaned when Steve gently let you down on one of the sofas and took the jacket out of your hands that you had been holding weakly. In the meantime, Hopper was tearing through all shelves and cabinets in search of the first aid kit and the proper tools. 

“Remove that shirt, it’s gonna get in the way,” he yelled at Steve over his shoulder and the boy didn’t hesitate to do as he was told.

“Hopper, what are you doing? Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?” Joyce spoke with raised, trembling voice and Hopper had to have the same conversation with her that he had with Steve back in the car. She wasn’t pleased that the life of her daughter was being put in risk’s way but they had wasted enough time already and they needed to act fast. 

“Ok, I know this is gonna hurt but I just need you to,” he grasped the hem of the shirt and began pulling it up. “-lift your arms for a bit, ok?” you groaned in pain when you felt the wound stretching and bit your lip while the boy pulled the shirt over your head. Thankfully you had a tank top underneath otherwise you would’ve died from embarrassment. It was more than enough that Eddie had seen you in your bra.

Hopper laid out a clean kitchen paper on the coffee table and placed the freshly sanitized instruments on it, making sure everything was within reach. At the same time, Joyce laid down Will on the opposite sofa by the window and joined Steve by your side while Jonathan, Nancy, and the kids stood aside and could only watch fearfully, not knowing how to help.

“Let’s inject her with the drug we used on Will,” offered Joyce as she wiped her tear-stained cheeks.

“No! No anesthesia,” said Hopper as he scrubbed and washed his hands before he rushed to the sofa and sat by your side. “We don’t know the proper dosage to put her under. We might end up putting her to sleep…for good,” he explained and Joyce exhaled shakily.

It was true. Thanks to Dr. Owens they knew what dosage Will needed in order to be put to sleep safely. But you were older and the dosage varied for different ages, weight, etc. They could either inject too little which would do nothing or inject too much which may indeed put you to sleep forever. Anesthesia was a tricky thing and it was especially risky and dangerous because you were injured and already slipping in and out of consciousness either way.

“Hey,” called gently Hopper as he took your face in his hand and had you look at him. “Look at me, kid. I’m gonna stitch the wound. It’s not too deep but it ain’t superficial either. It’s gonna hurt like hell,” he informed you and you bobbed your head tiredly.

“Do it.”

He lifted your top a bit, revealing your stomach area and everyone cringed at the sight. Max and Dustin watched with wide eyes, rooted to their spot, while Mike’s hands flew to his head as he tried looking anywhere but at the blood but couldn’t. Lucas just watched on with a scrunched-up face while Nancy gasped and Jonathan’s fisted hand pressed against his trembling lip.

“M-mom,” he croaked and Joyce turned to look at him. “How can I help?”

“Come. Help us hold her,” she beckoned him over.

“And bring me a glass of alcohol,” you added weakly and he rushed to grab a bottle and bring it to you. You took a couple of big gulps, hoping and praying that the alcohol would be quick enough at entering your system and numbing your senses.   

Hopper proceeded with the treatment then. He first properly cleaned the wound with hot water and you hissed, letting out muffled grunts the whole time. It hurt but it was somewhat bearable.

The real challenge came when he plunged the needle into your flesh, making your body jerk as you let out a cry.

“It’s ok, dear, you won’t feel your arm in a bit, I promise,” reassured you the doctor after withdrawing the needle from your vein and going to prepare the tools she’d need to stitch it. True to her word, you were beginning to feel your left arm going a bit number. Local anesthesia was truly amazing.

“Did you call mom?” you asked Hopper timidly and he nodded.

“Of course, I did, kiddo. She’ll be here soo-“

“Y/N!” as if on cue the door burst open and Joyce stormed inside, followed by Jonathan and Will, their eyes searching the room frantically before they landed on you.

The sight they were greeted with was terrifying.

You were sprawled on a chair, your face was all bloodied and beaten, your right arm was resting on your spread thighs as blood sipped from your hand. The upper part of your dress was torn and the white color was dirtied with splatters of blood, there were bruises on the inside of your thighs, and the most striking was your left arm that was perched on a desk, a big gash oozing blood was decorating it and the doctor seemed to be getting ready to stitch it up.

Will let out a terrified gasp and Jonathan pulled the boy towards him. Will’s back hit Jonathan’s torso and his older brother was quick to cover his eyes but Will grabbed his hand and pulled it away, not wanting to be left in the dark – literally and figuratively.

“W-what happened!?” cried out your mother and your eyes widened as you shut your legs closed and straightened up in your seat, ready to stand up and go hug her and reassure her you were okay but Hopper, who was standing next to you, placed a hand on your shoulder to remind you that you shouldn’t move.  

“Um, Joyce? Can I talk to you for a second?” asked Hopper as he walked towards her and pulled her outside the cabinet.

Meanwhile, Will rushed to your side with Jonathan following close by. He looked at your face and gulped. You could see he was fidgeting and wringing his hands with worry as he tried fighting the gathering tears and you lifted your right arm, beckoning him to come for a hug. He didn’t hesitate to crash into you and carefully wrap his arms around you. You kissed his temple and rested your chin on top of his head as your arm wrapped around his shoulders, mindful to not touch him with your hand and dirty his shirt. 

“What happened?” asked Jonathan as he crouched in front of you and placed a hesitant hand on your knee.

“I had a crazy night,” you sighed as you watched the doctor come near you and Jonathan stood and moved away to give her space, Will doing the same and pulling away.

Then Hopper and your mom returned inside and came to stand by your side. Joyce sent you a wobbly smile as she caressed the side of your face, eyebrows furrowing when her eyes shifted to look at the wounded flesh of your arm, gulping.

You let out a hiss, body shuddering when the doctor plunged the needle and she immediately ceased her movements, looking up at you in confusion.

“Are you still feeling pain?”

“Not much but…yeah, I do.”

��Oh gosh, I’m-I’m so sorry. I must have miscalculated the dosage. I’m still relatively new. Let me-let me call someone else-“

“Just keep on going,” you interrupted her. “It’s fine.”

“Honey, I think we should-“

“Please…I don’t want to waste more time. I just want this to be over. I wanna go home,” you told her and she tightened her lips, looking at Hopper who let out a sigh through his nose and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Alright then, doc, just…keep on goin',” he nodded at the woman and she gulped nervously as she steadied her hands and proceeded with the suturing.

The pain wasn’t too sharp which you were thankful for. But it still hurt and you clenched your eyes shut, focusing on breathing and Will’s hand holding your wrist.

You never wanted to experience needles and suturing again.

The irony was excruciatingly irritating and painful right now.

Your neurons were set on fire.

Joyce and Steve held you down while Hopper tried his best to stitch the wound. It resembled two large claw-like gashes. You weren’t sure if the monster had gotten any organs damaged but seeing as how you were still breathing it probably hadn’t. Otherwise, you would’ve been dead before Hopper had the chance to drive away from the lab.

Your body jerked once again as Hopper pierced your skin tissue and you grunted gravelly through clenched teeth, back arching, making the three apply more pressure to steady you.

Joyce’s eyes welled with tears once again as she listened to her daughter cry, sob, and let out choked yelps of pain. Jonathan wasn’t any better. He couldn’t even stomach the sight so he faced away while his hands squeezed your shoulders in his attempt to hold you steady in place and Nancy rubbed his back soothingly, caressing his face and wiping away his tears. Steve looked at you through red-rimmed eyes as he reassuringly rubbed your knee and tried to make you focus on him and remind you to breathe.

It felt as if the pain went on for hours when you finally felt the suturing stop and looked down through half-open eyes to watch Hopper do a surgical knot.

“Where did you learn all that?” you whispered barely audibly and Hopper hummed.

“During the war.”

When the knot was done, he put some antibacterial ointment on it and you released a strangled gasp at the slight pressure. It might have been slight pressure he put while applying the ointment but to you, it felt as if someone dropped a brick on you. Afterward, he wrapped it up tightly to prevent bleeding but not too tightly as to do more harm than good.

He finally stood up, taking a stumbling step backward as he let out a long exhale and Steve, Joyce, and Jonathan took a hold of you and slowly lowered you down, helping you lie down and adjust your position so you could be as comfortable as you could.

“There,” murmured Steve as he gently laid your head onto a pillow and carefully removed his hand from under your neck, and settled it on your head instead.

“Are you crying for me, Harrington? That’s not like you,” you whispered tiredly through half-lidded eyes and his pupils darted around as he gulped, the words getting stuck in his throat when his hand went to wipe the one barely visible stray tear that had escaped him.

“That’s just sweat. You really got us all worried… troublemaker,” he sniffed and you smiled weakly before slowly turning your head to look up at Hopper.

“Thanks, old man,” you uttered and he shook his head.                        

“There’s nothing to thank for, kid. Just rest and get better, ok? We’ll get you to a hospital as soon as we beat this son of a bitch,” he sent you a smile before he gave your head a small pat and left to wash his hands. You looked at your mother and brother who were on the other side of the sofa, reaching out to grasp your hand. You gladly accepted their warmth. 

“I’ll go get you a blanket, ok?” smiled Joyce faintly before retreating to her room and you let out a sigh as you turned your head to look at the opposite sofa where Will was lying.

“How is he?” you asked and Steve peeked at the boy over his shoulder before back at you.

“He’s sleeping…He’ll be ok…You both will be,” he tried to reassure you.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry that I wasn’t there,” muttered Jonathan as he stroked Will’s head and looked guiltily at him then at you.

“Don’t torment yourself…you wouldn’t have known,” you gave him an understanding smile.

“Sam Owens. Dr. Sam Owens... I don’t know how many people are there! I don’t know how many people are left alive!” spoke Hopper on the phone. You supposed he had called friends of Dr. Owens from the government. “I am the police! Chief Jim Hopper!”

You let out a huff. These people were not going to help you. You were pretty much on your own in this fight.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?” asked Dustin deflated.

“We’ll see.”

“We’ll see!? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” yelled Mike.

“We stay here and we wait for help,” stated Hopper firmly before going to Joyce’s room.

Meanwhile, Steve headed for yours. He opened the door hesitantly and looked around. He felt like he was trespassing but at the same time his curiosity won over his guilt and he fully entered.

It was a nice, cozy room. There was a big bed covered in fresh sheets that smelled like [your favorite scent]. There was a desk by the window that held a Greek god sculpture, a couple of Egyptian deities figurines, a stack of books, and an open notebook where you had begun writing something, only for the sentence to cut midway.

Next to the wardrobe was a bookshelf that was filled to the brim with books of all kinds and more, small, beautiful figurines. You had one of those sun catchers, dangling by the window with its multiple beads of different shapes and colors, reflecting light and casting it all over the room. Part of the window was made of stained glass that you had made yourself a year ago with the help of your brothers, of course. You always loved to try out new artistic projects and this one had been the most challenging yet, but totally worth it. The stained glass was beautiful and had similar colors to the Tiffany lamp on your bedside cabinet. You had covered the plain walls with nice wallpapers and had hung some posters of bands and favorite celebrities. There was an easel and a stack of canvas and lots and lots of paint and brushes and jars.

He smiled softly as he explored the space and shook his head, having to remind himself that he didn’t come to snoop around your private space but to get you a blanket.

“Here,” he said as he draped it over you and you sent him a smile while he sat on the ground next to you and took a hold of your hand after you had lifted your fingers to indicate that you wanted him to hold it.

And so the waiting continued.

The deathly silence continued.

The hopelessness, the despair, and the defeat continued.

And for you, the pain continued.

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?” asked Mike suddenly. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything. Then he had a fund-raiser for equipment...Mr. Clarke learned everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?...We can’t let him die in vain,” spoke the boy firmly.

“Well, what do you want to do, Mike? The Chief’s right on this,” Dustin confronted him. “We can’t stop those Demo-dogs on our own.”

“Demo-dogs?”

“Demogorgon… dogs… Demo-dogs…I mean if it was just Dart, maybe.”

“But there’s an army now.”

“Precisely.”

“His army,” interrupted them Mike, drawing their attention. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too.”

What followed was a whole brainstorming session with the children trying to piece together everything but the majority of what they came up with was something you, Joyce, and Hopper had already reached a conclusion to back in the lab while speaking to Dr. Owens. But at least now you had a name to put to the face – The Mind Flayer.

“Very poetic, I gotta say,” you drawled and Steve and Jonathan snorted lightly, shaking their heads at you.

“Sense of humor is still intact. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?” asked Steve as he turned to Jonathan and he smiled.

“Ok, so this Mind Flamer thing-“

“Flayer. Mind Flayer.”

“What does it want?” asked Nancy.

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

“Like the Germans!” joined in Steve and you tightened your lips as you tried to hold back a laugh because you knew it would hurt like a bitch.

“Uh, the Nazis?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Nazis,” he stammered and Hopper rubbed his temples in exhaustion. You could swear on his behalf – he was done with children at this point.

“If the Nazis were from another dimension, totally,” nodded Dustin. “Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself.”

“It wants to spread, take over other dimensions.”

“Well, that one seems very plausible if you ask me,” you added.

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it!” joined in Lucas and Steve just threw his hands in frustration.

“That’s great. That’s great. That’s really great! Jesus!”

“Alright, but how do we kill it? That’s the question,” asked Hopper.

“Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because,” stammered out Dustin, “because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains and the Mind Flayer it, it likes brains,” he explained and Hopper just threw the manual onto the table and let out a defeated sigh.

“What the hell are we doing here?”

“I thought we were waiting for your military back up,” said Dustin ironically.

“We are!”

“And even if they come, how are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” barked Mike.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!”

“We know it’s already killed everybody in that lab!”

“We know the monsters are gonna molt again!”

“And we know that it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach the town.”

“They’re right,” came Joyce’s voice suddenly and everyone turned to look at her. She looked utterly exhausted. “We have to kill it…I want to kill it,” she sniffed.

“Me too. Me too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that?” asked Hopper and suddenly, realization dawned upon you.

“Spy!” you yelled and lightly lifted your upper body to get a better look at the group but regretted it immediately because it put a strain on the wound, making you let out a heavy puff of air as you slumped back down.

“What?” asked Steve.

“Will spied on the Mind Flayer before, right? When he found me Hopper in those tunnels. Get him to spy again and find out what’s the weakness of this creature and where is its origin,” you explained a bit out of breath and Mike nodded.

“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore,” Max pointed out questioningly. “I thought he was a spy for the Mind Flayer now.”

“Yeah, but…he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

[fiction-giga]

Pickles

30 Day Blurb Challenge - list link here

Day 16 - Running out in the middle of the night to get a food item they’re craving.

Eddie Munson x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings - Mentions of body image issues (reader calls herself a whale)

Word Count - 0.6k

You had never felt this uncomfortable in your own body before. You were swollen and big, using the term "whale" to describe how you saw yourself to outsiders.

Eddie had this whole pregnancy thing down pat. He had spent the last waking months consuming as much pregnancy content as he could. He knew the types of pain you were going through when you were going through them. He knew what kinds of food you should and shouldn't have, and the combinations you craved. But the thing he had become overly familiar with was the hormones.

You will admit, you had snapped at him a numerous amount of times. You didn't mean to hurt him or his feelings, but it was something that just happened. It was almost unavoidable. But nonetheless, despite all the warnings and advice Ms. Byers offered him, he was still sorely underprepared for nights like these.

He felt hopeless as he stared at your aching body, silent tears running down your face as you tried your best to keep your cool. You were miserable, truly and utterly miserable, and there was nothing Eddie could do to stop it.

"Is there anything I can get you sweetheart? Anything at all? You name it and you got it." He whispered down at you as he caressed the crown of your head, brushing the wild hairs back down to their resting place.

You thought for a moment, mind going in and out of concentration as pain ran up and down your legs. A burger sounds nice? "Uh, I don't wanna be an inconvenience." You leaned into his touch.

"I promise you, you are not an inconvenience to me. I did this to you, the least you can let me do is spoil you." His joke lightened the mood a bit.

"If it's not too much trouble, a burger from the 24 hour diner sounds really nice."

He was on it right away. Granted it was pushing three o'clock in the morning, he was going to get you that burger. He even suggested extra pickles for you, knowing that you were going through a bit of a pickle phase.

Eddie was gone for about twenty minutes, returning promptly back to your shared home with your burger, fries, and extra pickles on the side all shoved into a paper bag, ready to be consumed. He even picked up a little something for himself.

"Thank you so much, you are my hero!" You whined as you all but snatched the bag out of the hands of your husband, ripping it open in a desperate manner to soothe that deep crave you had rumbling in the pit of your stomach.

"Your welcome, my damsel in distress." He gave your cheek a chaste kiss before settling down next to you on the couch. He chuckled when you leaned back against his shoulder, head lolled back in sweet, sweet relaxation. His hand cupped your swollen belly as he kissed the crown of your head as you continued to chow down on the greasy food.

You popped open the small plastic container full of pickles and tossed one in your mouth. Before you could even get it down, the baby kicked right into the center of Eddie's palm. You both paused as looked down at your belly when the baby kicked a second time.

"Nice call on the pickles." You muttered up at him without moving your eyes away from his hand on your belly.

"I'll buy you all the pickles in the world if our girl likes 'em."

[friendly-neighbourhood-spiderm4n]

HELP HELP HELP 😭😭😭 I JUST WATCHED THIS EDIT https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTdw85bJ7/?k=1 MY POOR BABY 😭😭 HE DESERVES THE WORLD. To the point tho I’m sobbing, coughing, throwing up because of this, so I’m gonna need some fluff of Will and his big! Dumb! Demon! boyfriend! Possibly them playing hide in seek?! Himbo reader is in his demon form because there alone and has trouble finding Will and when he says he can come out, Will doesn’t making him believe he left him. He gets all sad and just as he was about to start worrying they trip over each other, Will ontop of him and him on the ground, then they share a little smoochy 😚

A/N- I’ve been avoiding writing at the moment, mainly cause I’ve gotten really lazy, but I’ll try and get this posted quickly. I’m sorry if you wanted a written out story, my brain struggles with them.

>Once the Byers had left to do the groceries, all except Will, him and you decided to play Hide n’ Seek.

>Only difference from the actual game was you had to do it in demon form, as Will had said and stated.

>Didn’t really bother you, just made it more of a challenge.

>Until you remembered how bad you were at them.

>It had been like 15 minutes and you so bored. Will was no where to be seen, and you were ready to give and have some ice cream.

>”Will, you can come out now. I give up, you win.”

>Wherever Will was hiding, he silently laughed to himself, assuming such was a trick and continued to hide.

>When he didn’t pop out, you walked around the house, wondering if he just heard you, while continuing to call him out.

>When you gone threw every room, even checked his backyard. (You scared the neighbours cat cause you forgot to turn back for a split second.) You got worried.

>Will should’ve come out by now, if he wasn’t here, did he leave you?

>Your stomach had twisted itself into a painful knot at the fear of Will leaving, and abandoning you.

>You completely forgot you were in his house, and that he wouldn’t just leave it cause he “no longer loved you or wanted you” as you told yourself repeatedly.

>He heard you from his hiding spot, and quickly realised it wasn’t a trick, came out of his hiding spot, and ran to where you were probably crying standing.

>His arms wrapped around your torso, his head pressed tightly to your own chest, and the both of you falling, as he had practically jumped on you.

>You hit the floor hard. Your eyes were squinted tightly, the pain from the fall catching up with your now aching skull.

>Wills wrapped around your neck and pulled himself towards your face, his breathe fanned over your neck.

>He moved so that he hovered over your chest, his legs on either side of your torso and pulled your face into his hands.

>”Y/n? You okay?”

>”You didn’t run away from me?”

>Your eyes opened, and tears breaded the edge of your eye lids. Wills heart shattered, he hadn’t meant to hurt you.

>”Of course not. I have not or ever will think of running away from you. You’re basically my lifeline. You and my family make me feel safe, and loved and normal.”

>”I’m anything but normal.”

>”That doesn’t stop me from loving you though.”

>He pulled your face closer to his and kissed you. It was sweet, soft and full of love.

>The both of you stayed on the floor, kissing and confessing your love to one another over and over again for 20 minutes.

>You two calmed down, so you moved to his bedroom.

>There, you continued to kiss and hug, cuddling as you both listened to music through the walkman he bought you for your birthday.

>When “Don’t Stop Me Now” started to play, you both sang softly to the lyrics. Queen was a personal favourite of yours and his top ten bands.

>Both of you passed out eventually, holding onto each other and being utterly in love with one another.<3

[sunflowerharrington]

No Protesting About my Offer. Let’s go! Pronto!

pairing(s) - byler, implied steve x reader

warning(s) - swearing, mention of billy hargrove’s death, mike being an idiot (that’s canon though at this point).

author’s note - MIKEY!!! i love that dude with my whole heart, even if he’s an idiot sometimes and can’t see that THE ICON, THE MOMENT; MR WILLIAM BYERS IS IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! this is pure fluff. reader is mike’s sister. also this is my first time writing for mike, my apologies if i get his character wrong 💕

byler 🥰

i listened to i like you by post malone while writing this if that helps anything. i love posty 🫠🤭

word count - 737 (i estimated)

taglist - @will-byers-is-my-boyfriend @sunnymunson @quickiesgirl @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @taecube @sympathyforher @eddies-bat @wzrlds dm or comment to be added or removed 💕

“Let me level with you, Mike. I’m going out with Chrissy and some of my other girls tonight to Jason’s party because I have a life, unlike you. So I am not dropping you to Hellfar, or whatever.”

“Do you, though? You only get invited ‘cause you’re fucking everyone’s boyfriends behind their backs. And it’s Hellfire.”

“Ooh, burn!” Your little sister, Holly, shrieked, giggling away as she played with her dolls. “Bad words, Mikey! No bad words!”

She called her boy doll Mike and the other boy doll Will, and she was making them kiss. “Ooh, ooh! Look, Mikey! You’re kissing Will!”

“I have a girlfriend, Holl. Her name is El,” he explained, crouching down to level with her.

“But you wanna kiss Will? I know it! You’re in loooove,” she sang.

“Ugh, that’s not the point right now,” he groaned, turning back to you. “Please, Y/N? I’ll um… I’ll stop bothering you about your crush on Steve!”

“I do not have a crush on Steve!” You argued, hiding your blushing cheeks with your hair.

“What about your massive crush on Billy?”

“Low blow, Mike. Low blow,” you deadpanned, clutching at your chest. “I’m not going to explain what he would do to you right now if he was here because we have a five year old in the room, but I’m warning you. If by some magical chance he comes back…”

“Sorry, I um… It just slipped out.”

“It’s whatever. Nothing anyone could have done would’ve saved him anyway… I guess I can bring you to Hellfire. If you do my calculus homework for a week. No, no. No protesting, Michael. Let’s go, let’s go! Pronto!”

You hurried him out the door, turning around to playfully stick your tongue out at your little sister, and she did it back to you before going back to making ‘Mikey’ and ‘Will’ kiss.

You breathed in the surprisingly cool summer night’s air, sliding into the driver’s seat of your car and revving the engine after putting the keys into the ignition. Mike hopped in beside you, turning on your radio and changing the station, where electric guitars riffs and clashing drums sent a pulse running through your body.

“What is this?”

“Metallica. Eddie recommended them to me,” Mike said, turning the volume of your radio up.

“Who’s Eddie?”

“Seriously, Y/N?” He blinked at you in confusion. “He literally sits beside you in English and math.”

“You could have meant a different Eddie! How was I supposed to know? I know more than one!”

“Name another Eddie you know that likes heavy metal then,” he challenged as you rounded the bend up towards the high school.

“I… Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know another Eddie. Anyway, that’s not the point right now.”

“What is your point then?”

“I have a question,” you stated, pulling into the school’s driveway.

“What is it?” He asked, his eyes widening. “But if it’s about what Holly said about Will, I’m not answering! Him and I are just friends.”

“You said that like you were questioning yourself, Mike. You like Will. Admit it or I’m taking you home right now. No Hellfire, and a very very unhappy Eddie spaghetti,” you retorted, putting emphasis on some words and changing your voice to sound as much like Eddie as you could. “You son of a bitch! Jesus Christ, Mike, ‘coulda given us more notice! You made us postpone the Cult of Vecna!”

“You’re right, Eddie will be so pissed! Y/N, please!”

“Fine, future Mr Byers,” you teased, parking your car near the front entrance to the school.

“Actually, I was thinking about keeping the Wheeler name.”

“Ha! Gotcha, sucker! Murray was right all along!”

“You’re the worst,” he groaned, undoing his seatbelt.

“You actually want to keep your last name as Wheeler? And I’m here wanting to change mine as fast as possible.”

“To what; Harrington?” He teased, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“For the last time, Mike!” You shouted, taking your hand off the hand break. “I. Do not. Like Steve Harrington.”

“Mhmm. Sure, sure. We’re here now, thanks for dropping me.”

“Hey, before you go let me give you something,” you said, wrapping your arm around his neck to put him in a headlock so he wouldn’t move, ignoring his annoyed groans as you ruffled up his hair and kissed him on the forehead. “Go show Vecna who’s boss.”

[writersblockedx]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Hi! Welcome to my masterlist where you can find all my work. Any other info about my blog can be found here. I’m more than happy to take requests!

★ - Angst ☆ - Fluff ☆ﾐ - Series ✮ - Headcannons

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Supernatural Masterlist

As i’ve written so many fics for supernatural it took up half of my masterlist so I created a whole separate masterlist for it. Which you can visit above!

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Marvel Cinematic Universe 

Druig (Eternals) ☆ﾐ My Empty Lover, Part Two ,Part Three Sersi seeks out her fellow Eternals to stop the emergence. In doing so, she finds you, the fortune teller who can no longer remember her own past. ★ Mortal Heartache Druig the Eternal, immortal, falls effortlessly for a very much mortal girl. What could go wrong?

Marc Spector / Steven Grant (Moon Knight) ☆ The Sleep Clinic When Steven begins seeing things, hearing voices that aren’t there and acquiring other delusional traits, he seeks the help of his doctor. She prescribes him a healthy dose of a good nights sleep; something he can’t seem to achieve without her comfort. ★ Day Dreaming Steven sees her in his dreams. He never questions it, but it comes as quite at shock when she’s standing across the road from him one day.

Bucky Barnes ★ Communication When your boyfriend, Bucky, finally blips back into the world after five years, you find that things aren’t the same between the two of you anymore.

Loki Laufeyson ★ Challenged Expectations When Loki joins the Avengers team, he certainly isn’t given a warm welcome. Until one night, he opens up to yourself.

Peter Parker ☆ A Corridor Crush They always say it goes from strangers, to friends and then to lovers. Peter, however, finds himself stuck, barely able to befriend the girl he’s found himself utterly captured by. Something of which Spiderman seems to help him with. ★ What we choose to Forget Peter keeps the life that everyone forgot he lived in a shoe box; photos, relics, even his old Spider-Man suit. It isn’t until his girlfriend finds said box that the problems arise.

Peter Parker (The Amazing Spider-Man) ★ To Be Yours Just when life seems to be running smoothly, life throws a spanner in the works. That spanner happens to be one of your close friends: Peter Parker.

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Stranger Things

Steve Harrington ☆ﾐ Protector of the Party Rewrite  Y/n didn’t remember much from the night her mother had been taken away; her mind didn’t want to. It isn’t until her cousin’s best friend, Will Byers, goes missing that she’s finally faced with the truth. And within the midst of monster hunting and uncovering the reality of Hawkins, Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington finds himself weaving his way back into the girl’s life. ☆ﾐ When Opposites Don’t Attract, Part Two, Part Three (Steve’s Ending) Steve and Y/n were meant to be like magnets that repelled. It was as if the whole world shifted when they started dating. But now, Steve is having doubts someone else might be a better fit for her. ☆ Movies and Kisses Y/n has started spending an abnormal amount of time browsing for films at Family Video. Eddie begins to suspect her reasoning for such isn’t just due to her love for movies.

Eddie Munson  ☆ﾐ When Opposites Don’t Attract, Part Two, Part Three (Eddie’s Ending) Steve and Y/n were meant to be like magnets that repelled. It was as if the whole world shifted when they started dating. But now, Steve is having doubts someone else might be a better fit for her. ☆ The Princess and the Freak Eddie and Y/n seem to be living the modern day Romeo and Juliet: the outcast and the cheerleader. They sneak around their peers to find moments they can steal together. This time, their moment is interrupted. ☆ Stick and Poke While Y/n finally escaped her years of captivity in Hawkins Lab, the numbered tattoo on her wrist still haunts her. Eddie comes up with an idea to cover it up. ★ Ghosts Y/n starts seeing glimpses of her boyfriend. This would be perfectly fine, except for the fact she had watched him die a week prior.

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Harry Potter

Fred Weasley ☆ﾐ Love for Dummies Struggling to keep up with his grades, McGonagall pairs Fred with the reader in an attempt to help him catch up. Instead, it becomes the cause for multiple arguments and snarky comments and a relationship which only causes frustration for the two. ★ To Fix what is Broke After a teenage heartbreak, all you wish for is your best-friend. He’s not there. ☆ Favours for the Falling Fred and Y/n couldn’t be more different, yet the boy can’t help but find himself falling for her. ★ Just Material  When Fred finds Y/n wearing a jumper which isn’t her own (and certainly isn’t his), he can’t help but question who it must belong to. ☆ Bookshops and Baking Forced onto a muggle trip with his family, Fred finds entertainment in your bookshop. He can’t help but thinking that maybe he likes you more than most muggles. ✮ Fred Taking you to The Yule Ball

George Weasley ★ To Share This Greif After Fred’s death leaves his girlfriend and his twin mourning, they seek comfort in one another. ★ Truth or Truth Bored at a party, a group of you down a bottle of veritaserum and let your secrets out. Inventible, this leads to an argument which doesn’t seem to be to fix itself over time. ☆ Potions for Pranks Fred and George are practising one of their latest potions on Y/n. They suddenly realise their wrong doings when Y/n begins to forget her memories.

Mattheo Riddle ☆ The Muggle Mixtape In an attempt to get her friends into muggle music, Y/n makes a mixtape for Mattheo. He ends up liking it more than expected.

Draco Malfoy ★ Blood Purity As Y/n’s family is picked to host the next pure-blood party, her and Draco form an unlikely connection.

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The Witcher

Jaskier ☆ﾐ A Runaway The reader finds herself in a world that she doesn’t recognise. No one can seem to remember who she is and for the life of her, no words can convince anyone that she means no harm. ☆ﾐ  Happy Coincidences ,Part Two Never did you seek out to stay by the side of the bard, but, somehow, you find that you always find the other in some way or other. ☆ Music Fixes All After days of non-stop walking, you finally find an Inn. Still, your mind can’t seem to turn off, so you seek the help of the boy next door. ★ Me Before Him Being Geralt’s partner in all things monster hunting, the reader is given a choice when the Witcher argues with her favourite bard. ☆ The Art of Getting By In a scramble to stay finically afloat, a pub reaches out to a up-and-coming musician. Whom of which can’t seem to resist the lone bartender that watches him from afar each night. ☆ The End of What Could have Been Jaskier finally gives in at trying to flirt with his favourite barmaid - something that only makes her fall harder for him.

Geralt   ☆ﾐ A Runaway The reader finds herself in a world that she doesn’t recognise. No one can seem to remember who she is and for the life of her, no words can convince anyone that she means no harm.

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Peaky Blinders

Tommy Shelby ★ Rules and How to Break Them Before Y/n’s dad (a former loyal employee for the Peaky Blinders) passed, he had Polly promise him that she would protect his daughter. In her best attempt to do so, she made it rule that none of the Shelby boys were to be chasing after her. A rule of which Thomas was finding tricky to abide by. ★ A Certain Rivalry  In attempt to get a rival gang to do what he wants them to, Tommy uses one of their daughters as leverage. Over the course of her captivity, he comes to realise she is not what he first believed. ☆ Bed Ridden After a certain incident involving a few too many weapons, Y/n finds herself imprisoned in a hospital. A part of her feels as if she might be going mad; Tommy does his very best to take care of her. ★ Confessions for Another Day As childhood friends, Tommy and Y/n were inserpable, spending an afternoon pettng a race horse. When years pass and said horse falls ill, it brings the two back together - where a certain confession is made.

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Outer Banks

JJ Maybank ★ Spare me the Details In a desperate act to secure their Kook status, Y/n’s parents set her up with the notorious Kook King, Rafe Cameron. The only person to hate it more than Y/n herself is her best friend, JJ. Part Two Rafe starts to cling onto the sudden connection while JJ tries to knock some sense into his best friend. ★ Bachelors Y/n is the kook JJ has been effortlessly in love with for years now. Only problem being: she didn’t date pogues.

Rafe Cameron ★ Spare me the Details In a desperate act to secure their Kook status, Y/n’s parents set her up with the notorious Kook King, Rafe Cameron. The only person to hate it more than Y/n herself is her best friend, JJ. Part Two Rafe starts to cling onto the sudden connection while JJ tries to knock some sense into his best friend.

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The Summer I Turned Pretty

Conrad Fisher ★ Dependency Problem When you return to Cousins this year, you find that Conrad has picked up similar bad habits you once had. ★ Jealous? You’re uncertain if your feelings for Conrad are one side, so you hatch a plan to see if he’ll get jealous. ☆ If I’m not Mistaken When you mistake a boy for the local drug dealer, he ends up offering you some help anyway. ★ A Night Swim Conrad interrupts your night swim, leading to all the words you hadn’t said spilling out.

Jeremiah Fisher ☆ Sparks Jeremiah goes to you for everything, and when you give him a vital piece of love advice, it dawns on him that he is, in fact, in love with you.

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DC

Bruce Wayne (The Batman)  ☆ﾐ The Problem with Duality, Part Two Bruce has always attempted to keep his vigilante persona hidden from Y/n. That all becomes trickier when a new killer, of which she’s helping to hunt, is found going after the riches of Gotham. ★ Something About Risk Y/n is recruited to handle the logistics of the Batman persona, ignoring the danger that comes with it. When she is deemed missing by Gotham police, Bruce doesn’t stop until he finds her.

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Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid    ☆ﾐ Talk to Me, Part Two In which an unrequited love becomes all to overwhelming for the reader ☆ Of all the Poets Watching a wedding from afar seems to spark new thoughts for Spencer as he pines for his best friend. ☆ Crashing It just so happens that girl’s night is taking place at Y/n and Spencer’s favourite restaurant.

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Shadow and Bone

Kaz Brekker ★ Criminals and Crows For the Crow’s next job, they’re in need of a pirate; Kaz tracks down you. But despite being the man to hire you, he’s having a hard time trusting you. ★ The Things we do When Kaz finds out a rivial gang has taken you hostage, he’ll stop at nothing to find you again.

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The Last Of Us

Joel Miller ☆ﾐ Loose Ends After the relationship ended, Y/n had sworn complete avoidance of Joel and his risky ways. But, by her own fault, the woman finds herself in between FEDRA, the Fireflies and the troubling Ex-boyfriend. Even after ten years, the pair still find secrets to unravel - all to blame for the young girl they’re meant to protect.

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Doctor Who

10th Doctor ☆ﾐ All Consuming Y/n never believed that her constant headaches and feeling of haze could be more than stress; then the Doctors finds her, claiming that her illness is something otherworldly. She’s forced into different times and places as she and the Doctor search for a cure - all while being hunted by such otherwordly creatures.

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Ginny & Georgia 

Marcus Baker ☆ Stalker Y/n is pushed to confront the boy who can’t seem to stop staring at her at school.

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Wednesday 

Xaiver Thorpe ★ Sharing is Caring Xavier is in need of a place to paint in peace; the shed seemed the perfect place. But as it turns out, Y/n had already claimed it.

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The Boys

Soldier Boy ☆ﾐ Saviour Complex, Chapter One

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X-Men

Erik Lehnsherr ☆ Full of Surprises  Charles sends you to check on Erik; you end up staying longer than intended.

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American Horror Story

Tate Langdon ☆ Just Being Neighbourly The two have been neighbours for some years now, yet Tate can’t help but make his move.

[kiribaku-queen]

Sero falling for a civilian who turns out to be a villain. Not a huge one but still bad, she wasn’t even suppose to interact with him and kept it a secret from the other villains (so not one of those were she was sent to spy on him). he tries to convince her to join good (angst) maybe end with some fluff? (Like he does save her from evil or he wants to be with her so bad he turns to evil just for her l)

In the Hands of the Most Lovely Villain

Fluff, action, angst

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: stan latino sero

Her eyes were like the burning, passionate flames of the sun. Lively and spontaneous. Her eyes showed the story of an adventure. Sero always knew what she was thinking because her eyes showed it all. They showed so much emotion that even when she tried to hide it, she just couldn’t because her eyes never lied. One reason why he loved looking into her eyes so much. So why were these same eyes that he loved so much staring back at him with anger and fierceness?

He remembered when he first saw those eyes. They were so big and innocent, full with curiosity of the world.

You were wearing something girly that day: a sun dress with floral prints that flowed in the wind just right, enough to make any man glance at your direction. You felt like you were in a movie, where you were the main character that just moved into the big city, starting her life all over again. But you don’t normally dress like this. You decided to dress up in something out of your comfort zone because you never get to go out. And honestly, you were in love. Your father never allowed you to explore the city without the escort of your older brothers. Your four older brothers. You’ve tried escaping. Oh, how you’ve tried. Did they catch you every single time? Yes. So there was no point in trying anymore. However, on special occasions, they would allow you to get some fresh air. But only when you never left their sight at any point in time.

Today, though? You were up for a challenge.

You had to come up with a clever plan. And when you mean clever, you mean clever. So deceiving that your brothers wouldn’t be able to tell you slipped away.

Your brothers stood on every side of you. Two in front of you and two behind you, trapping you in this invisible jail. So there really was no way that you could ‘accidentally’ fall behind or run away. Looking left and right very discretely, your eyes lit up upon seeing a public bathroom. You stopped, making all 4 males stop with you. You held your stomach and faked a pained expression.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” you announced, hastily making your way to the bathroom. But you quickly got annoyed when all 4 brothers moved with you. You had only taken one step only to stop again.

“I can go by myself,” you sighed at them with a side eye.

“We can all go together,” the third oldest said.

“No!” you whined, giving them the biggest pout to convince them to let you go alone. But they knew looks could be deceiving and weren’t falling for it. They didn’t even blink. “I don’t need all of you guys to go in!”

“She’s right,” the second oldest stood up for you. You snapped your head towards him and a bright light shone in his direction. Could this be? Could a miracle be happening to you right now? Is your second oldest brother the light to your world?

“She only needs one. I’ll go,” he offered, pushing his way through but was quickly stopped when the rest of your brothers placed a hand on his chest.

“No, I’ll go!” the youngest brother wanted to replace him.

“It should be me,” the third oldest said. But your eldest brother couldn’t stand for any of the bickering.

“I’m the oldest. I’m going,” he interjected, causing you to groan in annoyance. Your eldest brother moved everyone out of his way so he could escort you into the bathroom but you had other plans.

“You want to see your young sister go to the bathroom? Pervert,” you say as you covered your chest with your arms, ashamed of all of your brothers. The look on every single one of their faces almost made you burst into laughter. The way their faces contorted into disgust almost immediately was a sight to see.

“Ew no. Just go, pipsqueak. Make it quick,” they said, turning around enough to give you privacy but close enough so that nobody could make it through. Victorious, you happily entered the bathroom and closed the door behind you. You rested against the back of the door, releasing a sigh of relief. In years, you’ve never felt more free and exhilarated. Thankfully for you, the moment you looked around, you saw a window that was slightly cracked. As quietly as you could, you made your way out of the window, taking it one leg at a time. You took your time coming out the window, trying to make as little noise as possible. When you slipped up, making a noise that you were sure your brothers were going to hear, you froze. But you looked back at the door and no one was storming in. Phew. You were safe. Gently stepping down on the ground, you entered the busy streets full of people shopping and walking around. And just like that, you escaped from the grasp of your brothers and roamed free for the first time.

Sero Hanta sat on top of the one of the roofs, eating bread and enjoying the breeze. Being a hero doesn’t give him many days off. So when he finally gets a break, he’s going to enjoy it to the fullest. Sure, he’ll see villains here and there while on break, but heroes were always there to stop them. He was just another civilian, another passer-byer that watched as the crime went down. Sero laid back and relaxed as he chomped on his bread, scanning the people below him. And that’s when he saw you.

You looked lost, walking with a plan in mind but no end destination. With big, curious eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, you aimlessly looked around, stopping to window shop from here to there. You looked like a lost child that was excited to be without a parent, able to explore the world independently for the first time.

You found yourself turning a corner, snaking your way through alleyways, only to be stuck at a dead end. No big deal. You could just turn back and retrace your steps. The moment you turned around, you tilted your head in confusion. Wait, which way did you come from again? Here? Or was it other there? The more you turned, the more you confused yourself. You pouted to yourself, thinking how you got into this situation. Panic started to rise in you, but you tried your best to settle it down because the more you panicked, the more you knew that you shouldn’t have left your brothers. And you knew you didn’t want to think that so you worked on your breathing until you calmed down fully. Getting lost was a part of life, no? This is okay. You were okay. Just try going one way and if it fails, then try again.

Sero saw the concerned look on your face, one that was scrunched up in worry. He saw how your eyes darted from left to right, trying to figure out which way was the right way. Sero got to his feet and stretched out his arms. He wasn’t on the clock but there was no problem in helping a pretty lady.

His tape came out so easily, so effortlessly. Like it was his second sense. He came a long way from high school. Back then, he had to focus on where he was shooting, how far, how sticky, when to let go, when to shoot out more. Now, he didn’t even have to think. Sometimes he doesn’t even know his tape is out already. He just sees himself flying through the sky. Sero tapes towards you, wrapping his tape around the pipe that laid just above your head, and he descended like spiderman would: holding onto it, upside down like a spider.

He thought he’d scare you, but actually blushed at your reaction. He was expecting a little yelp, maybe even a loud shriek from you. But you didn’t seem surprised by him at all. Eyes never wavering, just lips parted ever so slightly, wondering who this man was in front of you. And when Sero looked into your eyes, he instantly fell hard for you. But those can’t be the same eyes that were staring daggers into him right now.

You were tired. You were worn out. You were slightly hunched over, arms dangling to your side. You were trying to catch your breath and moving as little as possible to not open the gash on your side more, all while trying to process that the guy you were seeing in a pro-hero coming to stop you and your brothers from even more chaos. The room you were stuck in was basically falling apart. The walls were crumbling, the roof was coming undone, fire spit from all directions. Your brothers already escaped through the broken window and it was your turn next, but some hero had to stop you in your tracks.

It was only you and him in the room that was gradually falling apart. Only a piece of burning wood stood in between you two.

“(y/n)…” Sero whispers your name in disbelief.

But you didn’t have time for this. You had a job to do and right now, your priority is to get this hero off your back and catch up with your brothers. So you would do what anyone in your position would do: you attacked him.

You lunged forward with a grunt, swinging with all your might. Instead of hitting you back, Sero flies from wall to wall, dodging all your attacks. You could swing, and kick, and use your quirk all you want, but he moved away from you so swiftly that you barely managed to get him. His eyes were glued to your figure that was desperately trying to hurt him.

“(y/n),” he kept repeating your name. And that’s all your kept hearing, over and over in your head. It was distracting you from the mission.

“(y/n), please, let’s talk,” Sero begged, still trying to dodge your attacks while at the same time trying to make sure that no rubble from falling ceiling was coming down on him.

“Get away from me!” you yelled, so distracted and confused, trying to land your hardest hit, but he moved just in time to escape your punch that cracked the wall behind him.

God, you were embarrassed. Humiliated. Confused and angry at the fact that this guy you had hopelessly fallen for was a hero. A hero. Out of everything that he could have been: a cop, a teacher, a doctor, a regular guy… a god damn hero. That would never fly with your family. You were born and raised a villain. You had the villain mindset. All you ever known was to do villainous acts. You were taught that all heroes were bad in your eyes and you could never see what ‘good’ in the world they were trying to do. All your life, you hated heroes because… they were the ones who killed your mother. So how could the one you loved turn out to be a hero? This had to be some kind of mistake.

What a mistake you made because the moment you got distracted in your thoughts, Sero took the opportunity to wrap you in his tape causing you to be unable to move. You screamed and yelled, lashing about and trying to escape but all your means of escape were for naught because it wasn’t budging one bit. Sero got closer to you, trying to understand what was happening.

“(y/n), please. Stop,” he desperately tried making you listen to him but with you flailing about like a crazy woman, this was getting nowhere. And then he yells at the top of his lungs like his life depended on it.

“Stop!” he yells with all the hurt in his voice. This finally made you freeze up like you had been broken from a spell. “Just stop.” His voice goes back to being soft and caring. “This isn’t like you.”

“You don’t know me. You’ll never know me!” you retaliate, back to struggling with his tape that seemed to stick even more to you the more you moved.

“No, I do know you. You like crying about sappy romance movies and then complaining about them for the next week. You love trying new foods but pick out everything you don’t like about it. Every time you see flowers, you have to stop and admire them. You like the color blue but not a bold blue, a baby blue. You like having your hair played with, even when you’re upset. You crinkle your nose every time you have to sneeze. I know you!” Sero went on a rant, spewing everything and anything he knew about you. But deny, deny, deny you did.

“What would some hero know?” you spat in his face.

“Then just tell me! Try to make me understand! All you have to do is just tell me why you’re doing this!” And that’s when you exploded with emotion.

“It’s all because of you! All you heroes ruined my life. You killed my mother and what? You’re going to kill me now?”

“(y/n), I would never,” he reached out to cup your cheek but you hissed and pulled away from him.

“I will never, never, forgive anyone, not even you.” Angry tears poured out but it made you feel sad at the same time.

“Maybe I can help you!” Sero suggested, eyes wide with desperation. You shake your head.

“Sorry hero, I’m a villain and always will be a villain. Unless you join me, then I think we are done here.” A pocket knife that you were hiding in your sleeve slips out and you cut his tape, letting you free. Not wasting another moment, you leapt your way through the rubble and to the window. You were about to jump when a hand caught your wrist. When you looked back, it was Sero with tears brimming his eyes.

“Let go!” you try to wrestle your way out.

“I can’t. I can’t. Don’t leave. Don’t go back to them. Please!” he tried one last attempt in to getting you to stay and for him to completely understand. But what was the use? He was never going to get it. If you tried to let him into your villainous life, he would turn his back on you someday and turn you and your whole family in. You couldn’t risk it. This is why you should have never fell in love with a hero in the first place.

“Sayonara, Sero,” you whisper, using the pocket knife to cut his hand free and escape without a hitch. Sero retracks his hand and clutches it to stop the bleeding. Fuck, was he really just going to let it end like that? Was he just going to let the girl of his dreams go without putting up a fight? He had to find her again, and he knew just how to do it.

You pushed the door to the rooftop open, stumbling a bit before catching your stepping again. Policemen and heroes were right on your butt but that didn’t bother you.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath. You stopped at the very edge of the building. One more step and you could fall over and possibly unalive yourself. Heroes and policemen, all armed with guns, surrounded you from all sides. A helicopter flew above you, keeping their eye on you. You felt a little famous because even the news was here to report on your little robbery. Eyes, cameras, guns, all on you. It’s lovely being the center of attention.

“Surrender now or we’ll shoot!” one of the policemen shouted at you. You rolled your eyes, put both hands up and slowly turned around. You gave them a sweet smile and started giggling.

“Ah, this was fun but this is where we say’ goodbye’. Adios amigos,” you say before spreading your arms wide and letting the wind take you. The chorus of gasps sang in your ears as you fell of the tall building, loving the feeling of being airborne, like you were free and alive. Everyone who was present and those who were watching on the news were shocked and bewildered that you would take your own life rather than being handed over to the police. But they got an even bigger shock when white tape securely wraps around your waist and a man is seen pulling you to him.

“Wait, isn’t that…” someone started to point out.

“It’s ex-hero Cellophane!”

“Is he an accomplice?”

“Is he a villain now?” many questioned and asked among themselves. Meanwhile, Sero helped you escape as you smiled and cuddled into him.

“You need a better code word. I almost didn’t catch you there,” Sero complained. It almost sounded like he was scolding you.

“But you caught me anyway, didn’t you?” you say sweetly, placing a big ‘ole kiss on his cheek. The frown on his face slowly transformed into a smirk.

“Anything for you right?”

“My partner in crime,” you rested your head on his chest, allowing him to take you anywhere as long as you two were together. As villains.

A/N: literally fuck me for this being so overdue. I keep saying this BUT im actually finally back into my writing mood and i had so much fun writing this piece. I just had a brainfart and idk why it took me so long to get over it. But once I started getting those juices flowing, writing became fun again. Hope you enjoyed it and I hope i did your prompt justice! Thank you for reading!

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

“Why do you lie?”: A look at a gay Mike Wheeler

This is a sort of a companion post to Will Byers and Growing Up Gay in the Pre-Internet Era, which I posted last year. I looked into what could have possibly been going on with Will as someone with a gay identity at a time when there was little support. Now I’d like to look at Mike, who would have his own unique challenges towards accepting a positive identity. This isn’t meant to be a post for why Mike is gay, as I (and several others) have already addressed that. Instead, I want to look at some of the psychological processes that may be at work in how Mike develops through the series. I will be treating Mike as if he were a real person, rather than a fictional character, and, so, I will attempt to ignore narrative devices (foreshadowing, parallels, etc.) as much as possible.

“Friends don’t lie” is one of the prevailing messages in Stranger Things. It more or less becomes El’s personal motto, so it ultimately became associated more with her than the person who taught it to her: Mike. Despite attempting to instill this value onto El, Mike himself is shown to have a lot of trouble living up to it. While Mike spends quite a lot of time in Season 3 lying to El, she is not the biggest victim of his lies. No, the one he lies to the most is himself, and he seems to have been doing that since Season 1.

According to the Cass Identity Model, a journey to a positive gay identity requires several steps: confusion, comparison, tolerance, acceptance, pride, and synthesis. This is not a perfect model, but it is one of the better attempts to create a general framework for how it worked for many gay individuals, at least in the time it was created (1979). A general way to look at it is that, at least at the time, individuals would work their way through this process as they engaged with the gay and lesbian community and started to see it as less of a bad thing and more as something to be proud of until it finally becomes just another part of who they are.

As I mentioned in my Will post, there is little opportunity for a kid in Hawkins to engage with the gay and lesbian community. There is no internet, nor is there any (known) place for local gays to gather in Hawkins. This results in the only real mention of homosexuality being the slurs thrown around by school bullies and people like Lonnie. A town like Hawkins would be a very difficult place for a young gay person to grow up. This makes it hard for even the initial stage, confusion, even occurring. Mike has deep feelings for Will, but the confusion stage requires that he acknowledge his feelings as homosexual in nature. Instead, I think Mike has been hiding from his own feelings, and it may not have been until the finale of Season 3 that he finally acknowledged them for the first time. So what comes before the first stage? 

Lies! Well, sort of. Defense mechanisms are how our minds protect us from the anxiety and social consequences of unwanted thoughts and desires. We all use them, unconsciously, to some extent. The next time you come home from a hard day at work and yell at a family member, ask yourself why you’re angry. Odds are it’s nothing the family member did. Getting angry at work can be a risk to your employment, so, instead, you unconsciously find a “safer” target. In this case it’s still bad, but getting forgiveness from a family member is easier than talking a boss into rehiring you. Mike has similar processes going on to protect him from his budding attraction to Will.

It’s impossible to tell when exactly Mike started thinking of Will as more than a friend, even if he doesn’t label the thoughts as such. He already shows an intense concern for Will in Season 1. When the boyish-looking El shows up and provides an opportunity to find Will, Mike risks his friendships to make use of her powers. He also goes over the top in disguising her as, well, a girl. It probably would have been easier to disguise her as a boy, but Mike decided to put a wig and dress on her, and then apply makeup to her. This could be a combination of displacement and reaction formation. Mike is redirecting his feelings for Will onto El, and also making her as obviously female as he can. 

Mike’s bond with El came very quickly, and even caused a rift within the Party. While Dustin and Lucas would come around and value El as a trusted friend, their process with her is more natural than Mike’s rushed, forced relationship with her. Dustin and Lucas had no weird feelings to hide from. Their search for Will contained no unwanted implications, they simply wanted their friend back safe and sound. Still, we would see Mike on the opposite end of this type of interaction in Season 2.

Max is the first “normal” girl to show interest in the Party. Mike reacts to her presence and attempts to join the party with hostility. There is little reason for this, as he was more than willing to allow El to be their friend. He doesn’t truly hate her, and in his own words he can’t hate her as he doesn’t even know her. He simply wants nothing to do with her. His only given reason is that the party is full as it is, which seems to fall flat. It could be that the presence of a girl reminds him of El, but we don’t see him acting hostile to girls in general. It seems, instead, to be his friends’ interest in her that gets Mike to dislike her. While the theory that he is jealous at Will’s interest in Max is intriguing, there isn’t much to go on aside from Will showing a curiosity about her and then letting Dustin and Lucas bring her along for Halloween. Instead, Mike may be projecting here. He shows incredulity that Dustin and Lucas could be so interested in Max despite never having talked to her, suggesting that he thinks getting to know someone is important in regards to being romantically interested. This runs counter to his interactions with El in Season 1. He resents his own behavior, but takes his anger out on his friends and Max instead when he sees them doing something similar.

Mike is very protective of Will throughout Season 2. He also spends a lot of time reaching out to El via his SuperComm, though he admits it’s likely a fruitless effort. His guilt over what has happened to the both of them is another sign of his mixed up feelings for Will and El. On Halloween, Mike and Will open up to each other about how crazy they feel, and they share a smile at the end of a conversation that is arguably a masked love confession. However, as Mike twice brought up El as a part of their conversation, it further reinforces the displacement of Mike’s feelings to her. However, soon after this, Mike finds himself caught up in another Will-related crisis, and El is out of his thoughts until her return at the end of the season.

Mike also shows a lot of willingness to allow himself to be vulnerable with Will in Season 2, something which isn’t seen in his interactions with anyone else. In these moments, Mike’s body language shifts. His tone becomes softer, his head dips slightly, and he peers at Will through his lashes. His aforementioned conversation on Halloween is just one example, but it is also seen when Will is asked if he remembers Mike, when Mike recounts meeting Will as they try to break through to him, when they’re at the movies, and when Will is packing at the end of Season 3. The moment in the shed is perhaps Mike’s most vulnerable moment. He shares a cherished memory, and unashamedly cries while doing so, perhaps even so lost in the moment that he forgets other people are in the room. His feelings, driven into overdrive by the fear of losing Will for good, are beginning to overwhelm him, but he still maintains his “Will behavior.”

This shows an uncharacteristic degree of trust and/or submission. In interactions with other characters, even El, Mike often displays assertive, or even aggressive, tones and stances. Mike doesn’t realize he does this, but we do see him sometimes use similar body language with El, further suggesting that he is redirecting his affections.

Perhaps the biggest moment we see him act this way around El is at the Snow Ball at the end of Season 2. Mike had been having a great time at the dance until Will had gone off to dance. This is strange considering Mike seemed to urge him to go with the girl in the first place. He appears shocked as the pair walks to the dance floor, his mouth agape, and wide eyes staring off into space. This isn’t the body language of someone expressing pride at a friend’s unexpected boldness, but rather it suggests a disturbing revelation. It is at this point that Mike could potentially have moved into the Confusion stage of the Cass model, as he sits on the sidelines (despite Dustin briefly there for company) watching Will dance. Any progress he may have made is instead halted when El arrives unexpectedly. This allows for him to continue using her as an outlet, and gives him a convenient escape from where his thoughts would likely take him.

Season 3 is the first time Mike had to deal with having both El and Will in his life at the same time, and it’s where his defense mechanisms begin to break down. In therapy, the goal is to shine light onto defense mechanisms in order to deconstruct them, so the patient can see and deal with what is actually going on. 

We find out Mike has been largely ignoring his friends and spending most of his time with El. He makes a big show of his relationship with El, including leaving early after Dustin had returned from camp under the false pretense of a curfew. The others don’t buy it, and Mike likely knew this. He wanted them to know he was going off to make out with El. When we actually see them alone, they do indeed make out, but, curiously, Mike twice takes steps to make it less intimate. He stops to sing along to the music, for example, despite El not enjoying it. He also removes El’s hands from her face, leaving them both simply leaning forward at each other without additional contact. There is a suggestion here that Mike is not enjoying what he is doing and limiting just how intimate they get. 

We continue to see his lack of a desire to be close to El. For her part, El shows behavior that could only be considered clingy. It is she who initiates nearly all of their physical contact, and, at one point, she even literally clings to Mike as Dustin is showing off his gadgets. A close inspection shows that Mike is standing with his arms crossed during this, making no active attempt to return the physical contact. None of this physical intimacy is for his own benefit. While being with El means he doesn’t have to worry about his feelings for Will, it does not really allow him to express those feelings to his satisfaction. This may be why he goes on movie “double dates” with Will, Lucas, and Max in between spending time with El. 

The occurrence we see at the movies is clearly not the first due to Steve’s frustrated reaction and their familiarity with his threat. They are late, so there are not enough seats, but there is no hesitation as Mike goes with Will to sit apart from Max and Lucas. Mike is so comfortable with reaching into Will’s bag for the snacks that it suggests it’s happened multiple times before. We also see that, despite his reclusive behavior with El, Mike still has Will on his mind when he asks if Will is ok. His tone again soft, head slightly dipped as he peers up through his lashes. He glances briefly down, possibly at Will’s lips, suggesting he needs to remind himself that it’s not El he’s with at this moment. He is otherwise very content to be “alone” with Will at the movie. 

Mike ultimately needs the relationship with El to protect himself against his feelings for Will, and it all comes to a head when they fight after Will’s attempt at a campaign. Mike’s continuous theatrics lead to not only Hopper forcing him to spend less time with El, but to him getting busted as he allows Lucas to lead him through a plan to get El an apology gift. We later see that he has no difficulties apologizing when he feels he should, so his grand gesture is another sign that his relationship with El is more of a show. He puts up no fight when El dumps him, acting annoyed and accusing Max and El of conspiring against him. He’s hiding from his own complicity in order to avoid acknowledging that it doesn’t really bother him as much as it should. He wants El to come back to him to continue his show, but he can’t do anything about it without confronting his feelings. El leaving didn’t hurt him; it just made him angry. This complicates things for him. It was easier for him to shift his feelings to El when he didn’t actually need to do anything about it.

Will loses it at Mike’s disinterest in his campaign, particularly his attempt to abruptly end it. Mike seems to be trying to be just another too-cool ladies man, and he is disallowing himself to enjoy the game. Still, he can’t bare to have hurt Will, and he chases after him when Will tries to leave. Mike struggles to maintain the lie while trying to placate Will. When Will accuses him of ruining everything to make out with “a stupid girl,” we see Mike lash out, saying it’s not his fault Will doesn’t like girls. While this hurt Will, it was likely another case of projection. Mike hates himself for spending all of his time with El because he doesn’t actually like girls. He can’t even stay angry at Will when he sees how hurt Will was with what he said. He tries to explain that this is just how it needs to be, and he appears sad as Will leaves. Unlike with El, Mike is hurt when he loses Will, and he chased after him to apologize. We don’t actually get to see him apologize, however, as the threat-of-the-season kicks into gear, resulting in Mike needing to get El.

Mike thus is able to bounce his feelings back to El. He maintains a physical proximity to Will, but also tries to avoid interacting with him. The apology he never gets to make to Will ends up clumsily being offered to El. Mike’s vulnerable, genuine behavior is absent as he goofily attempts to make nice with his ex-girlfriend. He awkwardly attempts to invoke previous conversations with Will, suggesting an increasing desperation to re-establish El as the safe target for his affections. Cracks had already been forming in his carefully constructed subconscious defense mechanisms as a result of the contrast in how El and Will dumping him made him feel. Mike is starting to see the truth, and he needs to fix it.

Ultimately, the Byers decide to move away. A few months pass between the end of the season and the epilogue where they actually move. Mike seems to be on good terms with both El and Will, but we don’t really know what happened in the interim to get him there. Mike has conversations with both El and Will. His demeanor in each again demonstrate that, despite what he wants others to think, it’s Will who Mike can’t bear to part with. With Will, Mike again shows his vulnerability when Will goes to give away his D&D books. Mike is clearly afraid at the implications, that Will will move on from him, but Will is able to allay his fears, assuring him it’s “not possible” for him to find a new party, and that he expects to just use Mike’s set when he returns. Mike shows no vulnerability with El. In fact, he seems quite at ease as he explains how they’ll talk all the time, so everything will be ok. El suddenly attempts to bring up his previous attempts to talk about feelings, and he feigns ignorance, seeming uncomfortable. There’s a suggestion that they never re-established a romantic relationship. She says she loves him, and he seems perturbed. She kisses him, and he stands there, unresponsive. As she leaves, Mike stands confused and disturbed. He was not expecting that, nor did he enjoy it. Previously, after such a vulnerable moment with Will, Mike would have jumped at the opportunity to shift his feelings to El. Now it seems that he is finally accepting the truth. Defense mechanisms, being elaborate unintentional lies, only work when the individual remains unaware of them. Insight results in the truth being revealed.

As the Byers leave, Mike stares longingly at the cars. His friends all bike away, but he hangs back momentarily, looking back at Will’s house one last time with a pensive look on his face. All his walls have come crumbling down, and he can’t deny it anymore. He can’t pretend it’s El that he loves. He rides home, walking into his home in a daze. We last see him seeking comfort in his mother’s arms, seeking that unconditional love he craves so much. Mike is now confused, consciously aware that he loves Will, dealing with not only losing him, but also the acknowledgement that he’s likely gay. He’s no longer lying to himself, though it remains to be see how he reacts to the truth.

From here it’s all speculation, as we have little to no knowledge of Season 4. Based on the Cass model, Mike needs to explore his gay identity by meeting other gay people. He needs to see that not only is he not alone, but that being gay isn’t a bad thing. This process isn’t easy, and he will need to deal with the social implications of what it means. He may well choose to attempt to maintain a straight image. El being away means he can claim her as his girlfriend without them needing to be intimate. On the other hand, with support, he could work his way through the model and learn to love himself as he is. 

Note: I tried hard to stick to a conceptualization of Mike, but this does not mean this is how the writers see him. 

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 11/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Jack Willis is buried in the boneyard outside of town a week to the day after Mulder and Katherine meet.  Mulder attends the burial, but Katherine does not.  Aside from the gravedigger and the undertaker, no one is there to pay their respects.  Mulder is only there to pay the two men for their time.    

Time has an interesting way of moving.  When Mulder met Katherine, those first few days felt like the longest of his life.  And now weeks slip by and it feels like he needs to slow things down.  He remembers telling her his priority and focus is on the ranch, nothing more, yet now that she’s here, the ranch feels secondary to him in a time where he can’t afford to be distracted.

It’s coming up on October before he knows it and he’s got to get the horses ready to ride out to Fort Worth for the postal service.  If the team he’s built up is satisfactory, there’s more work to be had and a government contract just may be forthcoming.  If that’s not enough to occupy his time, with the new land he has thanks to his wife, he hopes to start in on the expansion before winter sets in.

Katherine fits in so well it’s like he can’t remember a time when she wasn’t there.  He notices that she seems to fill a role with each of the ranch hands.  For Trevor, it’s like the mother he never had.  She darns his socks and patches the holes in his pants and reminds him to wash up for supper.  He ‘yes, ma’am’s’ her more in a day than he’s ever ‘yes, sir’d’ Mulder in five months.

Jesse and Jimmy are often good-naturedly teasing Katherine like a little sister.  They challenge her into imaginary competitions like they bet she can’t drive the carriage in a circle around the barn or they bet she can’t make as good of an apple pie as Melvin or they bet she can’t catch all the suckling pigs in under a minute.  For her part, she seems to enjoy proving them wrong.

Melvin treats Katherine almost reverently, like a father would a daughter.  He speaks of her with pride when he tells Mulder of how she handles the carriage or how she’s put logical sense into the kitchen and the cellar shelves or how she read some beautiful verses from the bible to him.  He notices that Katherine also worries over him like a devoted child as well, telling him to rest more, to sit down, not to overtax himself.

It’s been harder for Mulder to pinpoint the relationship Richard has with Katherine.  Richard keeps to himself most of the time, but he has had the occasion to observe them speaking.  One particular time, they were both crouched low and Katherine was scratching at the dirt with a stick.  Richard was nodding thoughtfully and he moved away looking as though he was in deep contemplation.  Mulder asked Katherine what they were conversing about.

“I asked him to make me a washing line on a pulley,” she said.  “I was explaining where I wanted it, the type of pulley I would need and where the loosener should be fitted.”

“I’m sure he’ll build you a very fine washing line.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.  We were trying to determine which space might maximize efficiency.  There’s a lot to think about; which way the wind is likely to blow, the position of the sun, where to keep the wash basin and ringer, for example.  He’s going to think on it.”

So, Mulder determines that Richard thinks of Katherine like a colleague or an equal.  She’s the one person he’s ever asked for advice from.  If he runs into an obstacle, he seeks her out to talk it through instead of wallowing in self-loathing.  Perhaps if the army had been populated by Katherines, Richard would still be there.

He’s been too busy to take Katherine out on another picnic, but they spend almost every evening sitting on the porch together.  She is usually sewing and he tells her stories about the constellations or reads to her from his favorite book, Gulliver’s Travels.  It’s a good thing she seems to enjoy listening because he’s never met a silence he can’t fill.

He’s packing for the trek to Fort Worth and remembers that Katherine still has his valise.  It’s late, he wonders if she might be asleep, but he can see light coming from under the door, so he knocks quietly.

“Katherine?” he calls, as soft as he can in case he might disturb her.

“You may come in,” she answers.

He opens the door and then cuts his eyes away for a moment when he sees she’s in her nightdress and a robe, sitting at the edge of the bedstead.  “Oh, uh…”

“Yes?”

He looks at her and she’s combing her hair.  He’s never seen it loose before and it’s wildly curled, like endless fiery waves over her shoulders and down her back.  She always keeps it braided and he’s surprised she’s able to tame it so well.  

“I’ll be needing my valise.”

“Oh!”  She sets the comb down on the bed and goes to the wardrobe.  “I should have returned it to you weeks ago.”

“I’ll get you one of your own in Fort Worth.”

“What would I need with a valise?”

“For traveling.”

She hands him the valise and their hands meet on the handle.  She doesn’t let go.  “Traveling?” she asks.  “Am I going somewhere?”

“Maybe one day you might like to take a trip somewhere.  We could take a trip.  A honeymoon, perhaps.”

Her brow shoots up and she releases the valise into his grip.  He feels foolish for saying such a thing and bites his lip for a moment and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I only meant that maybe you’d like to accompany me when I need to return east some time.  We could stop in New York City.  See the electric bulbs in the park.”

“You would...you would take me east with you?  To New York City?”

“I’m needed in Boston from time to time and I would love to bring you along.”

“I would like that very much.”

“I wish I could take you with us to Fort Worth.”

“I wouldn’t be able to go anyway.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have my own valise yet.”  She smiles at him rather coquettishly and he chuckles.

“I will remedy that soon enough.  Do you think you might miss me when I’m gone?”

“I may not have time to miss you.  With half of you gone, I was planning to give the floors a good scrubbing.  Not to mention, Richard is installing my washing line and I hope to get all the bedclothes washed.  And of course there’s-”

“Alright, you can’t wait to see me gone and have me out from underfoot.”

“No, I…”  She pauses, drops her chin and cocks her head to the side just a bit.  “Keeping busy helps take my mind off things like missing people.”

He tries not to smile too broadly, but he knows the grin on his face must look foolish.  He bites his lip and nods.  “I’ll say good night, then,” he says.  “And I’ll let you get back to...your bedtime rituals.”

“Good night.  I will see you in the morning.”

He hesitates and then gestures a sort of farewell with the valise.  As he starts to close the door, he can’t help himself and he stops.  “I will miss you, in case you were wondering.”

“I suggest you try to keep yourself busy, then.”

He chuckles and closes the door behind him.

↭

Katherine is up early in the morning to make breakfast and to pack a nice noon dinner for Mulder, Jesse and Jimmy.  Richard, Trevor and Melvin will be staying behind at the ranch.  Even though she’s up before sunrise, the wagon is already packed and the horses have been saddled and hitched.  The men eat quickly, eager to set out on their journey.  Before they leave, Mulder pulls Katherine aside and gives her a bankroll.

“Don’t think I didn’t remember the first of the month is just a few days away,” he says.  “I assume you’ll want to head into town and see Mr. Skinner about the mortgage due.”

“This looks like more than we agreed to.”

“Well, call it an advance.  There’s a nice little cafe in town.  See if you can’t treat your lady friends to a noon dinner while you’re there.”

She crushes the bankroll in her fist and tries to think of a place she can keep the money safe.  He puts his hat on and then winks at her.

“Keep yourself busy,” he says, and then heads out into the morning light.  She follows to the porch to watch him go.

Jesse is driving the team of horses pulling the wagon and Jimmy rides next to him on the horse they call Faithful Jenny.  Mulder mounts Blondie and turns to give her a wave before he takes the lead on the small party and then they are off and she already feels a pang of longing for him to return.

The first two days, she keeps busy with the scrubbing she’d told him she wanted to do and prepares for a day of heavy laundry.  She helps Richard with the hanging of the washing line and with a few adjustments and tightening of the rope and pulley, it works as smoothly as she’d hoped.

On Friday, she dons the new calico skirt she’s only just finished sewing, a fresh blouse, a pair of black gloves she purchased at the mercantile but has not yet had occasion to wear, and ties on the hat that Mulder gave her the day they married.  She asks Melvin if he could hitch up the carriage for her and though she’s terribly nervous about her first foray into town by herself, she knows she can do it.  She’s put in a good amount of training with Melvin learning how to drive these last few weeks and there has to be a first time for everything.

Lady is ready and waiting with the carriage when she comes outside after having secured her money into a hidden pocket she’s sewn into her skirt.  She’s more afraid of losing the money or having it stolen off of her than she is for problems driving the carriage.

“You sure you don’t want me to ride with you?” Melvin asks.  “I can saddle up George and follow you even, if’n you’d like me to do that.”

“I’ll be fine,” she says.  “I’m just going to go to the bank and drop in on Mrs. Byers and Mrs. Doggett.  I’ve boiled some eggs and took out some canned pears.  There’s enough salt pork left to fry up.”

“Don’t worry about the kitchen today, go have yourself a nice time in town.  But, if’n you’re not back here before the sun drops west, I’m comin’ out there after you.”

“Lady, walk on now.  I’ll be back soon!”

She can scarcely believe she’s driving a carriage on her own, making her way into town, and yet she is.  Even Lady seems to sense her excitement and prances down the road in a nice, quick trot.  Katherine smiles when she passes the trees she recognizes from her picnic with Mulder.  Her arms are tired by the time she makes it into town, but she feels exhilarated by her accomplishment.

“Well done,” she tells Lady after tying her to the post and rubbing her cheek.  Lady nods and shakes her head.

The bank is busier than when she was there before.  The teller is assisting a man at the window and two others wait behind him.  One of them nods and tips his hat to her when she walks in.  She waits as well and looks past the line to see if she can spot Mr. Skinner, but his office door is closed.  She becomes a little anxious when she waits, not sure of what she is to say to the teller.  She thought she might just walk in and be able to speak with Mr. Skinner.  Soon, it’s her turn and she steps up to the window and then fumbles for the money concealed in her pocket.

“I am here to pay my mortgage due,” she says.

“Name on the account,” the teller asks.

“Um, Jack Willis, I believe.”

“One moment.”

The teller turns away and then opens a box.  He takes out a stack of small cards which he quickly shuffles through and removes one.  He returns to the window and takes up a pen that he dips in ink.

“Ten dollars and sixty cents,” he says as he’s writing on the card.

Katherine carefully counts out eleven dollars and then slides it into the tray at the window.  The teller counts it as quickly as he shuffled the cards and he puts it into another tray below the counter.  He slides forty cents change back to her and the card as well.

“Sign, please,” he says.

She hesitates with the pen in her hand.  She does not know what name to write.  Should she sign Katherine Willis, or Katherine Mulder?

“You can mark an ‘x’ if you are illiterate,” he says.

“No, I am not illiterate,” she answers.  “I was recently remarried, I am unsure if I should sign with that name.”

“Who’s your husband?”

“William Mulder.”

“Wait here.”

She begins to feel nervous all over again.  Another man has come into the bank as she’s been at the window and is now waiting for her to finish.  She doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if she should leave and come back, but the teller told her to wait and so she waits.  She starts to perspire and she loosens the tie on her hat.  She whirls around when someone says her name.

“Mrs. Mulder,” Walter Skinner says.  “I’m glad you’ve come by.”

“You are?”

“I’ll take it from here, Mr. Crawford.”  He takes the card from the counter and gestures for Katherine to go ahead of him to his office.  She returns the pen and then goes with Mr. Skinner.  He makes an imposing figure and rather reminds her of her father, which makes her all the more nervous.

“Is something the matter?” she asks, taking a seat in front of his desk.

“Not at all.  Mr. Mulder was in earlier this week before his trip out to Fort Worth.  I just have a paper here for you to sign adding you to his account.”

“Adding me to his account?  What does that mean?”

“It means you are able to make deposits or withdrawals on your husband’s account, provided we have your signature on file.”

She stares at him, incredulous.  She doesn’t even know what name she should sign with to pay her mortgage and now she’s expected to have access to a bank account?

“I have my own money here,” she says.  “I don’t think I need Mulder’s account.  Do I?”

“He added your name on Monday and asked that when you came in to make the mortgage payment that I have you sign the paperwork.”

“I must confess this is all very new to me, Mr. Skinner.  I’m not even sure if I’m supposed to sign this card as Katherine Willis or Katherine Mulder.”

“That card just keeps a record of the payments.  My teller signs it saying he received the money and you sign it saying you paid it.  You don’t have anything to worry about there, but I think that you should go ahead and sign as Katherine Mulder from now on.”

She nods and he gives her a pen to sign the card.  It’s the first time she’s written her married name on anything and it feels strange.  She never did get accustomed to being Mrs. Willis, but when Skinner had called her Mrs. Mulder earlier, she answered without hesitation.  She hands him the card and he passes her the paper she’s to sign for Mulder’s account.

“And just so you’re aware,” he says.  “I expect the transfer of your lease to be returned by next week.  It will be filed under your joint account, so be sure to request the mortgage under your own name next time.”

“I will remember.  Thank you for helping me, Mr. Skinner.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Mulder.”

She leaves the bank with much less of a triumphant feeling than she felt in successfully driving the carriage.  In fact, she feels as though she has hardly taken a breath in that whole time.  She steps down to Lady and rests her forehead against the horse’s neck and strokes her mane.

“We’ve done it,” she whispers to the horse.

“Katherine?”

Katherine steps back from the horse and turns towards the voice that called her name.  She sees Monica Doggett hurrying towards her across the dirt road, waving to her.  She waves back.

“I thought that was you,” Monica says, greeting Katherine with a warm embrace.  “It’s so good to see you.”

“Yes, you as well, Mrs. Doggett.”

“Ach, Monica, please.  Mrs. Doggett is my mother-in-law and trust me, there’s only room enough in this world for one Mrs. Doggett.”  Monica laughs and squeezes Katherine’s hands.  “What brings you to town?”

“I had a banking matter to attend to.”

“Are you here long?”

“Actually, I’m glad I ran into you.  I wasn’t sure how to find you, but I was just on my way to drop in on Susannah Byers and I thought she might know.”

“We’re down on this road if you keep going over the bridge ahead.  Can’t miss it.  If I’m not there, it’s probably because I’m running something over to John.”

“I’ll remember that.  Mulder told me there was a cafe in town and I should invite you and Susannah for a noon dinner.  I’d understand if you’re busy with chores or errands though.”

“Are you kidding?  I would love nothing more.  And if I know Susannah, she will be absolutely delighted by the offer.  Is this your carriage?  Did you drive in all on your own?”

“I did.  Though Lady did most of the work.”

“How thrilling.  Shall we?”

Katherine climbs up into the carriage and Monica hops up next to her in the passenger seat.  It takes nothing but a few minutes to end up at the mercantile and Monica steps down first and waits at the foot of the porch steps for Katherine.

John Byers is standing before a display table with a clipboard and pencil, taking notes.  He smiles when the ladies come in and puts the pencil behind his ear.

“Good morning, ladies,” he says.

“Mr. Byers,” Katherine answers.

“We’ve come to collect your wife,” Monica says.  “You won’t mind if we borrow her for a bit to have dinner at the cafe, do you?”

“Not at all.  Let me go and get her.”

“Oh, how darling.”  Monica holds up a knitted pair of baby booties that she picks up from a table.  “Sometimes I sure can’t believe my little ones used to fit into socks this small.”

“You have children?”

“Two.  Luke and Sarah.  Sarah just turned nine and Luke will be fifteen in just a couple weeks.  Do you have any children?”

“No.”

“Well, there’s plenty of time.  And when that time does come, I promise I’m the best midwife all of Texas has to offer.”

Katherine gives Monica a polite smile.  “I’m certain you are.”

“Oh my word, is it true?”  Susannah comes bustling into the storefront, throwing off an apron that she carelesses flings in her husband’s direction.  John catches it with one hand.  “We’re going to go out to dinner?  Is that right?  Oh, let me get my hat.  John, how could you let me walk out without my hat!  I’ll hurry back.  Don’t go nowhere you two!”

Monica laughs and then winks at Katherine.  “I told you Susannah would be delighted.”

When Susannah returns, the three ladies head out of the store and Susannah leads the way down the boardwalk to the cafe.  Katherine worries a little about leaving the horse and carriage, but Susannah tells her not to fret that it’ll be fine where it is.  They’re seated next to a window at a table for four and after ordering some cold cut sandwiches and lemonades, Susannah and Monica start to gossipping about people Katherine has never heard of.  She’s content to listen to the conversation and doesn’t mind that she isn’t required to participate.

“Oh, but listen to us,” Susannah says.  “We’re being rude.  Katherine, I haven’t even asked after your husband or how you’re faring out on the ranch.”

“Mulder is well.  He’s in Fort Worth right now to take a team of horses to the United States post office.”

“You didn’t join him?” Monica asks.  “When John and I were first married, I’m telling you he couldn’t hardly walk down the road without pulling me along.”

“I’d much rather stay behind anyway.  There’s so much to tend to at the ranch and...well, the truth of it is, I would just like to stay put for awhile.  That was one of the reasons I married Mulder in the first place.  To just...to just stay still.”

“You did a lot of traveling around with your first husband, didn’t you?” Susannah asks.

“Too much.  In four years I don’t think we were ever in the same place for more than a few weeks.  And then we ended up here and it was like there was nowhere left to go.”  

Monica nods and then she reaches across the table and puts her hands over Katherine’s. “I did have the occasion to meet Jack Willis once,” she says, petting Katherine’s hand lightly.  “He had the blackest aura I’ve ever seen.  You must have been miserable.”

“It wasn’t a very happy marriage.  I don’t know what an aura has to do with that.  I don’t even know what an aura is.”

“Oh, Lord, Monica, not the auras!”  Susannah throws her hands up, but chuckles.

“There’s a belief that all people put off energy,” Monica says.  “Like a candle putting off heat.”

“Monica is an enthusiast of alternative ideas.”

Monica laughs.  “John was posted in San Francisco for a few years and I met the most fascinating people there that believe in some of the most extraordinary things.”

“We had a preacher come through here once that called her a heretic,” Susannah adds.  “In the middle of a sermon.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have become a preacher if he didn’t want to answer questions.”

Katherine looks between the two women and shakes her head.  “Energy is the quantitative property that must be transferred to an object in order to perform work on the object,” she says.  “Like measuring the temperature required to boil water.”

Monica glances at Susannah and she shrugs.  “I don’t know what any of that means,” Susannah says.  “I just turn the stove on and wait for the bubbles.”

“Have you ever gotten a bad feeling when you meet someone for the first time?” Monica asks.  “Or even a really good feeling?”

“Yes.”

“You’re feeling their energy.  Auras are like...I suppose they’re like a way of measuring a person’s disposition.”

“I don’t know how you would measure a feeling.”

“Auras are the colors of the energy that people put off.  Some people are lucky enough to see them.”

“And you’re one of those people?”

“I am.  Anyone can see them though if they want to.  It’s about opening yourself up to possibilities.”

“How does one open oneself up to possibilities?”

“I think it starts with inner peace.  Really letting go of fear and doubt and not worrying so much about the past or the future and being extremely present in the moment.”

“I see.”

“Your husband is mostly blue, but there is some red there too.  He’s very compassionate, loyal, trustworthy, and nurturing, but also driven and hard-working.”

“I don’t really think you need an aura to tell you that.  Just as I don’t think you need an aura to tell you that Jack was surly and unpleasant.”

“No, but I could tell right away, even without knowing you, that you and Mulder belong together.  You can’t tell me you weren’t drawn to him immediately, even if you didn’t know why.”

“I was intrigued by him, I will admit that.”

“And you knew he was someone you could marry even though you’d only known him for a day.”

“But, she didn’t really have much of a choice in that,” Susannah interjects.

“I did though,” Katherine confesses.  “He offered me money for my land, land I didn’t even own, and he said he would help me start out somewhere if I wanted.”

“And you chose to marry him.”  Monica smiles.

“He was kind to me when he didn’t have to be.  I know I didn’t know hardly anything about him, but still I felt...very fond of him.”

Monica nods knowingly.  “Your auras.”

“I’m a yellow,” Susannah says.  “But, Monica, you haven’t said what Katherine is.”

“Would you like to know?”

“You might as well tell me.”

“You are almost equally tan and crystal.  Which means you’re very private, cautious and practical.  And you’re a healer.”

All of those things are true, but Monica could come by those conclusions without more than a few minutes conversation with her.  The part about being a healer though, that is a little disturbing.  The waiter comes over with their tray of sandwiches and lemonades and the conversation falls to the wayside.  Katherine wonders what color Monica is, but doesn’t want to ask, lest Monica think she somehow believes in that kind of foolishness.  People emitting colors?  How absurd.

[slippinmickeys]

The Earl (5/13)

If you’d like to read this on AO3, you may do so here. 

CHAPTER FIVE

“What do you think the men do?” Suzanne asked, “when they retire to drink their port?”

After dinner, as the men of the aristocracy always did, the gentlemen of the party withdrew to a back room while the ladies meandered to the drawing room before retiring for the night.

“Cards and flatulence if I know my husband,” said Mrs. Green, one of the few other women who had been invited to the estate.

Scully gave an involuntary snigger of embarrassed laughter.

“Knowing John, it’s billiards,” Suzanne said, lowering herself onto a divan. “Always billiards.”

“I should like to join them,” Scully said.

“For cards and flatulence?” Mrs. Green said, “Leave me out of it.”

Suzanne chuckled. “If you mean the playing of billiards,” she said, “I should like to play as well. Perhaps one night we should eschew our social graces and storm the room.”

Scully stood. “What is stopping us from going now?” she asked.

“Other than Mr. Green’s gas?” Suzanne said, standing once again. “Nothing at all! I’m game.”

The other two women of the party declined, looking askance at Scully and Suzanne for their impropriety, but Scully, emboldened by Suzanne’s refreshing cheek, found she didn’t care. She knew Mulder would be happy to see her, and Byers had been nothing but kind and welcoming. With Suzanne by her side, they made their way toward their paramours.

When they got to the billiard room, they found several of the gentlemen (Mr. Green included) sitting around a card table, pipe smoke thick in the air (perhaps to cover for the flatulence, thought Scully).

“We’ve come to interrupt your port!” Suzanne announced as they entered, and all the eyes in the room turned to them.

“I can think of nothing I’d like more,” Sir Byers said with a smile.

Some of the other gentlemen looked unhappy, but not one of them said anything after their host had greeted the women so kindly. Suzanne moved to Byers’ side and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Scully scanned the room and found Mulder in the corner, looking at her with undisguised lust. His hair had a roguish part to it, which lent him an air of rakish charm — coupled with the sometime intensity of his gaze, it was no wonder the man had come into possession of an unearned reputation. She and her husband had made full use of their time together in Kent, but Mulder’s appetite for her bordered on insatiable. She met his eyes across the room and felt a flare below her waist -- she was growing wet for him from just a look.

Suddenly, she felt a warm hand on her arm. She turned to find Frohike beside her, his eyes light. He was holding out a glass of port towards her.

“Have you ladies come for the port or the cards?” he asked.

“Neither,” Scully said, graciously taking the proffered glass, “we have come for the company.”

“And the billiards!” Suzanne said, and Frohike nodded to Langly, who was standing by the billiards table, holding a cue. The three billiard balls sat on the table.

“May I have the first game?” Frohike asked.

She was about to answer in the affirmative when she felt the kinetic mass of Mulder come up behind her, could feel his breath in her hair and the solid warmth of him along her back.

“The first game my wife plays will be with me,” he rumbled, and Scully felt the peaks of her breasts turn to sharp points. “If it pleases her?”

She turned toward him, her face only inches from his.

“You always please me, my lord,” she said quietly enough that only Mulder and Frohike heard her. Frohike let out a long, low whistle.

Mulder stepped away from her and over to Langly, who handed over the cue without a word.

“We gentlemen usually play for a wager,” Mulder said to her, a challenge in his eyes.

“Name it,” she said, “though mind yourself, Lord Wexford,” she went on, “as I intend to win.”

Mulder’s mouth curled into a sly smile.

“Do you?” Came the comment  from one of the gentlemen standing by the hearth, swirling a port glass. “I have not met a woman yet who can best a man at billiards.”

Scully chose to ignore his bigotry and answered him frankly.

“Billiards are a matter of geometry,” she said, “Physics, too. I excel at both.”

“She’s not a bad ball handler, either,” Mulder muttered, moving to the other side of the table.

She chose to ignore his comment, and kept her eyes on the gentleman at the hearth, who inclined his head in apology.

In fact, she did win. First against Mulder and then against Frohike, Byers and finally against Mr. Abernathy, the hearth dwelling gentleman, against whom she could not resist having a go. He had the decency to be a somewhat gracious loser, but Scully could tell his hide was chapped, about which she felt no small amount of satisfaction.

After the last game, she handed Langly her cue and addressed the room. “You gentlemen may pay me at the end of the week,” she said, “for I suspect your debts to me will only grow.”

Her statement was met with hearty chuckles from the men and an outright whoop from Suzanne. Scully excused herself to retire for the evening. Mulder did the same, looking at her with impressed surprise when they exited the room and began the long walk back to their chambers.

“Where did you learn to play billiards?” he finally asked once they were completely out of earshot of the room.

She stopped in the hallway and turned to look at him frankly.

“I have brothers, William,” she said.

He threw his head back, laughed and offered her his arm, which she took as they once again proceeded to meander back to their chambers.

“Take care calling me by my Christian name, Dana,” he said, his voice low, “I may grow to like it.”

The rare sound of her first name from his lips elicited a shiver through her that began at her ears and coursed right through to her sex.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her gaze pointed below his waistline, “today.”

That was all it took for him to twist her around, and he had her pinned to the wall of the hallway before she could even blink. His mouth was on her neck in the same breath, and she felt the solid heat of him pressing against her much smaller frame, his iron-hard erection pressed into her stomach.

His tongue ran rough down her shoulder and into the heaving flesh of her bosom, both of them het up to the point of sexual frenzy. She wanted him, could not wait, and almost, almost didn’t care if anyone came upon them here in the middle of the hallway.

She reached out and grasped him through the fabric of his breeches, squeezing and pulling him as best she could. He groaned into her décolletage and pumped his hips into her hand, yanking the front of her dress down to expose her breasts to the air.

“I will not make it,” he gasped on a breath, “to our chambers.”

Scully looked over his shoulder and noticed an inset window in the hall with long drapery nearly covering it -- they could disappear behind it, so long as they made love standing up.

“There,” she said, breathless herself, “the window behind you.”

He all but yanked her after him and once they were past the drapes and inside its enclosure, Mulder turned her around and pressed her front into the window, the glass cold as ice against the inflamed skin of her breasts. Her nipples were so hard she was surprised they didn’t make tink ing sounds when they encountered it.

She heard a rustling and then felt the cool night air on her backside. Mulder’s mouth closed hot around her earlobe and he whispered “Lift your right leg,” around it.

She did so and his hand grasped around her upper thigh, pulling it high and out and before she could draw breath, felt the silken steel of him sliding straight into her. They both groaned.

The fingers of his other hand found the swollen nub at the crest of her drenched sex, rubbing roughly. He pumped into her, grinding her chest and face into the window and she gasped at the pleasure of it.

In no time at all, she felt her release building, and then her crisis broke. She sobbed once, her senses overwhelmed as Mulder followed her, grasping the flesh of her thigh so tightly she knew she would bruise. She would treasure the marks, she knew. She had never felt anything so euphoric or carnal.

When their breathing began evening out, he relaxed his grip and leaned back, and she nearly fell back into him, so weak were her legs. She turned around to face him and he reached down and gently tucked her breasts back into her frock, smoothing the garment over her shoulders. Her eyes searched out his.

When hazel met blue, the look he gave her was so unguarded, so filled with undisguised tenderness, it made tears spring to her eyes. For all his outwardly careless insouciance, she knew Mulder cared deeply about a great many things. She had no doubt, and hadn’t for some time, that she was at the top of the list.

She leaned up and kissed him sweetly on the lips and pulled him out into the hallway, toward their chamber and their bed, toward her loving embrace.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder had joined the gentlemen for an afternoon of shooting, leaving Scully, Suzanne and the few scattered women to their own devices. Rather than spend this magnificent day sitting in the drawing room reading or taking turns about the room, Scully decided some fresh air would do her some good and chose to go for a ride.

Suzanne had offered to accompany her, but Scully remembered her mentioning that she wasn’t much of a horsewoman earlier in the week, so she politely declined the company. It would be good to get out on her own, she thought, it would give her some time with herself, which she hadn’t had much of, being more than happy to spend every waking minute (and all of the sleeping ones) at Mulder’s side.

Donning her newest riding habit -- a winsome teal frock that had been a part of her enormous order with the modiste -- she asked a maid to let the stables know she was on her way and to saddle Queen.

At the bottom of the grand staircase that led from the foyer, she noticed their newest footman Alexander hovering nearby. He caught her eye.

“Shall I follow you on your ride, my lady?” he asked. It was probably the thing to do, but the idea of getting out and being alone, truly alone, in the countryside after weeks and weeks in the populated madness of Town was more attractive than being prudent.

“No thank you, Alexander,” she said. “Or is it Alex?”

“Alex, if you would,” he said. He had a fine face -- a strong jaw and a thick head of beautiful, dark hair, if a slightly feminine nose. She felt a small regret that she hadn’t gotten to know him at all, seeing as he was one of the few members of their household staff that had traveled with them.

“Is Sir Byers’ staff treating you well here?” she asked.

“Very well, my lady,” he said, “it is a well run household.”

She smiled at this and turned to go. He hastened to open the door for her, and closed it efficiently behind her.

The day was crisp and bright, the greens of the fields around the estate almost blinding. They’d had several days in a row of a low grey drizzle, and the men were practically chomping at the bit for a spot of hunting when the sun came with the dawn. She drew in a deep breath of the fresh country air, and couldn’t wait to feel the powerful energy of Queen thrumming under her. It was the perfect day for a ride.

Just outside of the stables, she was met by a groom -- not Peter or Terrence, she noted -- who was holding a mount, a bay gelding by the look of it, outfitted in her saddle and tack, that was not her horse Queen. The groom was older than herself, and a little twitchy -- the man had trouble meeting her eye.

“I thank you,” she said politely, “but I requested that my own mount be readied for me, Mr….?”

“Barry, my lady,” he said. “My apologies, but Queeny had a swollen fetlock this morn. I think she mighta kicked her stall last night.”

“Is it serious?” Scully asked in concern.

“No ma’am,” he replied, “I mean my lady. I have a poultice wrapped around it now. Should be fine by midday tomorrow. B-b-but Easterly here should do well for you. He’s strong and should like a good ride.”

As if to prove the man’s point, Easterly pawed his hoof at the ground and nodded once, pulling at the reins.

“Spirited,” Scully said generously.

The groom’s eyes twitched and he looked to the side.

“A bit,” he said.

Scully appraised the gelding, who looked back at her as if daring her to turn him away. She smiled at him. She liked an animal with a little mettle.

“Very well,” she said, and the groom brought over a mounting block to help her bestride. The moment she sat down, Easterly took two shying paces sideways, and she took a firm hand with the reins. So this was a beast who needed to know who was in charge. Very well. She could and would teach him.

He pranced a bit until he passed under the lintel that led that to the field behind the estate, but once through it, she gave the horse his head and he took off like a shot, blazing across the meadow like a beast possessed.

It was a glorious day. Ashford Park was large — fields and pastures out to the horizon. The village nearby was over a far rise, and she could just make out the tower of its church.

Easterly seemed tireless, and she rode and rode until the beast’s flanks were heaving and she could smell his sweet sweat. She rode him to a large tree that bordered a small stream, dismounting to let him drink. Once his thirst seemed slaked, she secured him to the tree and left him to graze. From the small satchel secured to his side, she pulled a hunk of bread and cheese Prudence had wrapped in a light handkerchief and a new book she’d been dying to read — Jane Marcet’s book Conversations on Chemistry.

She settled down in the shade of the tree and read, the peace and grace of the day and her new life settling over her gently like the satin sheets on their bed at home. She had not felt so content since she was a child, when the troubles of her father’s estate were still years in the future. Eventually she dropped off to sleep — she had been exhausted lately, but had not, after all, been getting quite as much rest as she ought.

She was awoken by the restless whinnying of Easterly, who seemed to have had his fill of grass and was eager to get back to the stables.

Putting what was left of her lunch back into the leather satchel, she remounted the horse without much trouble and the second she fingered the reins, he was off like a shot. She let him run until she came upon a small dirt avenue between two fields.

As they made their way down it, she slowed Easterly to a walk, and he pulled several times at the reins, shying sideways as they made their way beside a high rock wall.

“Pestilential beast,” Scully muttered, missing the smooth gait and easy manner of Queen. The next time she was to ride a horse that was not her own, she would be picking the mount herself.

There was a stile in the wall about 10 yards away, and Scully got a prickly feeling as they approached it. Easterly grunted, pulling his head up once, twice. Just as they were even with the stile, a man jumped out onto their path and Easterly whinnied and spooked. He reared suddenly and Scully gave a sharp shout and was flung, unable to keep her seat in the awkward sidesaddle.

She fell straight backwards as the horse took off at a gallop, landing hard, her head cracking back against the firmly packed earth. She saw stars ascending in her vision, up, up.

A set of boots walked toward her and kneeled only a few feet away. Scully could just recognize the worn, unconcerned face of the groom who had given her Easterly. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, and she struggled for a moment to speak.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered, the black of unconsciousness closing in around her vision.

“Do not worry, my lady,” he said, his voice fading as she lost consciousness, “Duane Barry’s not like these other guys.”

[harringrovetrashrat]

Hey I'm new at 'Asking' on tumblr but I'll give it ago, I was thing like, a harringrove soulmate au, (it can be what ever) but like they find out mid-flight at the Byers, like (the thing you choose) happened, and maybe even one of the kids see and is all like "omg are u guys SOULMATES?!?!?"

YES YES!!!

I’ve never done a soulmark fic before, so I truly hope you enjoy this!!  I had fun writing it, either way, lol

(Quick note: Shirts v Skins in this is more Shirts v Tanks for privacy based around marks.  Most things are made so you have privacy, but a lot of people are open with their marks anyway.)

--

The day that Steve found out that Nancy wasn’t his soulmate probably should have been a little sadder.  Don’t get him wrong, Steve had been fucking heartbroken.  Had felt like something was missing inside him.  But it had made sense.  Because there was always something that didn’t click between the two of them.  Where Steve reached, Nancy pulled away. Where she went, he couldn’t follow.

He reminded himself it wasn’t her fault.  It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love him, you can’t make yourself love another person, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Also, he probably should have seen it coming when he got his mark.  When the mark appeared on his ribs, a crown encircled by a wave.

He had no fucking idea what that meant.  How it related to him and Nancy.

After the breakup, done in her front yard on her birthday in late August, when hers appeared and was a camera with an eye for a lens, he had hated looking at it.  Hated the reality it presented, even if he was happy for Nancy and Jonathan.  More jealous of what they had together.  The mark was a constant reminder that he was the problem, so he stopped showering at school after practice.  Changed and left as quickly as he could.  Did the same at home, hoping, wishing that if he just didn’t look, it would go away.  It never did.  He never looked in the mirror without a shirt anymore.

Then Billy Hargrove arrived and Steve’s world was fucked.

He was everywhere, getting into Steve’s space, challenging him for the throne he didn’t even fucking want.  Blue eyes, tanned skin, rough hands, and a tongue that refused to stay in his mouth.  Steve didn’t like to admit that that tongue had featured a lot in his dreams.  That he had imagined Billy pressing him against his bed, pressing him against fucking anything, and speaking in that low voice that hit Steve in his gut.

It wasn’t necessarily shocking, Steve had come to terms with kinda looking at boys too, but it’d never been like this.  He’d never been so utterly consumed by the thought of another person.  Not even with Nancy.  Billy Hargrove was a temptation, but also not a possibility.  He was a man’s man, a ladies man, and an all around asshole.

By the time he had joined the basketball team, Steve had developed the worst one sided crush he’d ever had in his life.  And it didn’t even make sense.  Sure, he’d noticed that Billy was smart, was attentive and observant, just like Jonathan.  But he was also a massive tool.

Practice was normal enough, Billy and Tommy doing what they could to get a rise out of Steve, but he quickly brushed it off, making a beeline for his locker.  He heard the clanking of a lock and turned to see Billy opening his locker.  When he noticed that Steve wasn’t showering he turned his wolf-like grin on him, tongue peeking out between his teeth.

“What’s up, Harrington?  Kings don’t sweat?” Steve ignored him, sighing.  Billy smirked, smile going sly and… something Steve couldn’t place.  “Got an embarrassing mark or something?” Steve rolled his eyes, blocking Billy’s view of the left side of his ribs as he pulled his shirt on.

“Just don’t want y’all tryin’ to look at my massive dick, Hargrove,” he replied.  There was a pause, then Billy laughed, loud and bright.  It sounded surprised and almost happy.

“That so, King?” Steve slammed his locker closed and shot Billy a dark look.  He kept his eyes on Billy’s, not letting them wander over the expanse of his chest.  Billy smirked, like he knew where Steve wanted to look, where he wasn’t going to look.  Steve turned on his heel and left, ignoring the blood pumping in his ears.

Then everything kinda went to shit.

Or well, really, really went to shit.

He didn’t know why Billy had to always goad him, had to be such a prick all the time.  Why he had to come here to find Max, on tonight of all nights.  Why he had to smash a fucking plate over his head.  And now here he was, being flipped over as Billy straddled him, much differently from his dreams, and got ready to beat the shit out of him.  Steve looked up at him, hating that the light created a halo behind him, hating that he looked good, hating everything.  Billy’s shirt was hiked up, Steve had tugged it free from his jeans as they grappled, and as he moved, it rose some more.

“Holy shit!” Dustin’s exclamation wasn’t new, mixing in with the cries of the other teens, but then he said something that made both boys pause.  “Your mark!” Billy went rigid on top of him, slapping his hand over the side of his back hip as he turned and leveled Dustin with a glare.

“What?” He snarled, tugging his shirt down with one hand while he held Steve down with the other.  “If you think pointing that shit out is gonna make me--”

“I’ve seen it,” he whispered, eyes widening.  “Oh my god, that’s--” He let out a weird sound, making Billy let Steve go fully, narrowing his eyes.  Steve took his chance, sitting up quickly, trying to shove Billy back, but he gripped Steve’s body with his legs, pulling him along.  They rolled and Dustin let out another strange noise.  “You guys!  Stop!” Both older teens turned to look at him, confusion on their faces.  He went forward, tugging at Billy’s shirt, trying to get a better look at his mark.  Billy scrambled away, shoving Dustin’s hands.

“What the fuck!”

“You have the same mark,” Dustin breathed, eyes going wide.  Billy stared at him, contemplating, before his eyes slowly widened.  Steve furrowed his brow, not getting it.

“What?” Billy took a step away, looking ready to run, which was so different from only moments before that Steve was feeling weirder than he had about carrying a dead monster.

“Remember when you showed me your mark,” Dustin said, speaking fast, “I would recognize it fucking anywhere--”

“Max,” Billy snapped, breath coming in shorter, “We’re fucking leaving.”

“No,” she said, anger barely restrained.  “Fuck you, Billy!  We’re doing something important.” He grit his teeth, turning his back on Steve, looking right at her.  Dustin looked between him and Steve, before his face hardened and he yanked up Billy’s shirt, mark on display.

Steve couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Fuck off, shithead!” Billy said, wrenching away from Dustin and shoving him back, though the push was weak.  He turned back to Max, not once looking at Steve, who was still staring, mind wrapping itself around Billy having a crown.  A crown with a wave circling it.  Of Billy, the total womanizing douchebag, having his mark.  “Maxine, Neil and Susan want you home, we’re leaving.”

“Wait,” Steve said.  It was quiet, but it cut through the room.  Billy tensed, not turning around.  Steve wanted to ask, wanted to show Billy his mark, wanted to figure out what the fuck was happening, but they didn’t have time.  Mike tensed up, already knowing what Steve was going to ask.  “Guys, I think--”

“No!” Mike cried.  “No, we’re not telling him!”

“He’s not gonna leave without Max,” Steve snapped, finally getting up.  Billy had retreated slightly, still twitching with anger, but his curiosity was starting to win out.  “And,” he sighed, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if we tell him, we’ll have another person to go with us and--” he let out another sigh, “We’ll do your plan.  In the tunnels.” The preteens exchanged glances and huddled together.  There was intense whispering, one ‘ew,’ and then they were turning back.

“Nothing about-- You know,” Lucas said, miming a nosebleed.  Mike looked unhappy, arms crossed as he hunched over, but he didn’t say anything.

“Fine, fine.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“What in the fuck are any of you talking about?” Billy snapped.

“Are we not going to discuss that you guys have matching marks?” Dustin said, clearly unable to read the room.  It was like all the air had been sucked out, like the eye of a storm.

“Dustin,” Steve said, voice restrained and even, “I seriously need you to drop it.”

“But--!”

“Drop.  It.” Steve said through gritted teeth.  Billy bristled and Steve’s eyes flickered over to him.  He wasn’t looking back, just angrily staring at the floor.  “Hargrove,” he said, and Billy still didn’t look at him.  “This is gonna sound weird, and you aren’t gonna believe me, but--” He paused, not sure what to say.  Then he remembered.  “Follow me.” Billy looked at him then, eyes narrowed and wary, almost scared, and wasn’t that funny.  Still, he followed, and while the kids moved to do the same, Steve glared them into submission.  “You guys get the stuff ready, okay?  You’ll just overwhelm him otherwise.” He couldn’t help it, he put his hand on Billy’s lower back, ushering him into the kitchen.  Billy moved away, movements jerky.  It felt like ice in Steve’s veins, but he could worry about his soulmate hating him later.

“So?” Billy snapped, licking his lips anxiously.  “Show me.” Steve took a deep breath and pulled open the door of the fridge.  The demodog spilled out, practically oozing onto the floor, and if it wasn’t the night it was, if hell wasn’t knocking on the door, Steve might have laughed at how bugeyed Billy went.  “What the fuck?” He breathed, eyes darting between Steve and the monster.  “What the fuck is that?”

“That,” Steve said, “Is a demodog.  It’s a monster from a different dimension called the Upside Down.  We gotta go kill and distract a horde of them so the chief can close the gate and kill their connection to the other side.” Billy stared at him, blinking.  He pursed his lip, pointing a finger, before dropping both and looking at Steve like he’d grown a second head.

“What?”

“Essentially,” Steve said, glancing at the clock and noticing they needed to leave, “We gotta go distract and maybe kill a bunch of monsters or they’ll take over Hawkins.  You in?” Billy stared at him, brow furrowed.  Steve stared back, tired and ready to fight if he had to.  Wondering about where that syringe went.  Billy finally swallowed and looked away.  His voice was low when he responded.

“You want me to come along?” He sounded almost shocked.  “Even with--” He pursed his lips, going red.  Like he hadn’t meant to bring it up, but also couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Or maybe that was just Steve.

“Of course,” Steve said, scoffing a little.  Billy frowned at him, looking defensive.  Steve licked his lips, feeling bold.  The night was already scary enough.  “I’ve been crushing on you since you got here basically.” Billy’s eyebrows shot up and Steve looked at his shoes.  There was demodog on them so he looked back up, but not at Billy.  “Even though you were a total tool,” Billy scoffed, “You were smart and like, so much more than you let people believe.” Billy was silent and Steve chanced it, looking at him.  Billy stared at him, face soft and open, at least more so than usual.

“Can I--” He licked his lips.  “Can I see it?” Steve’s breath hitched and he swallowed, nodding.  He untucked his shirt, hiking it up to show the left side of his ribs.  Billy's thick hand splayed over it, thumb rubbing the mark.  Steve shuddered, mouth parted slightly.  His touch was electric, especially over the mark.  Now that they knew, it made sense.  King Steve, engulfed and protected by the rushing and wild wave that was Billy Hargrove.  His breath hitched as he watched Billy stare, each rub of his thumb sending sparks through Steve.  The mark looked right, now.  Like it was meant to be there, bright against his pale, skin, marking him for the world to see as Billys Hargrove’s soulmate.

The thought of Billy belonging to him made him shudder again.

“If you guys are done being all sappy,” Mike Wheeler’s voice cut through the moment, shattering it like glass.  “We could maybe, I dunno, go?” Steve pulled away, beet red, and Billy looked like he could strangle the kid.  He had his lanky arms crossed, trying to look fierce, but Steve could see that he was scared.  Worried about El.  He sighed and gave Billy a loaded look, heading for the door.

“I’ll grab the axe from the shed, you kids pack up the car.” He looked at Billy. “Grab my bat will you?” Billy’s nostrils flared and he grinned, eyes alight.

“Sure thing, King.”

[yikesharringrove]

Nb Steve as requested by @takemebythehand-andsetmefree

Happy Pride!

Here is a link to my post about Harringrove for BLM, and here is a link to Writers/Artists Against Police Brutality

Here’s also a link to the Masterlist of Harringrove for BLM coutesy of @harringrovetrashh

Thank you all for organizing, participating, and donating.

-

There is an instance where Steve gets misgendered, not by malicious intent, but it still happens, so take care of yourselves, don’t read if that could harm you.

-

“I think I’m a girl.”

This revelation wasn’t totally shocking to Billy.

Steve loved pretty things. Could be found more often than not jamming around in a little skirt, lots of makeup. So Billy just said

“Okay, Baby. Then I love my gorgeous girlfriend.”

And that was so sweet and all, but to Steve it still didn’t, it felt just as bad as boyfriend.

“Actually, maybe not.”

-

“I think maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

They were in Steve’s bed together, Steve laying practically on top of Billy.

“What makes you say that?”

“Parts of me feel like I’m a girl, and parts of me feel like I’m a boy. But all of me hates both of those options. I mean, I love looking like a girl, but when you, when you said girlfriend, Bill that felt just as fucking bad as boyfriend. I think I’m broken.” Billy shifted around until Steve was looking right at him.

“You are not broken. You are beautiful and amazing and confused. But you are far from broken. There’s more in the world than girl and boy. You can be anything, anyone.

“Back in California, I knew all kinds of people. I had friends all along the trans umbrella. I had a friend who was a trans guy, but preferred presenting for feminine. I had androgynous friends that presented however they pleased. I had friends who identified as no gender, or all the genders. I had a friend whose gender identity would change on any given day. Gender is fucking fake, and if you’re not comfortable with whatever you were assigned at birth, make something new for yourself.”

“I think that I’m somewhere in between. Not a woman, but not a man.” Billy grabbed the notbad next to Steve’s bad, drew a horizontal line across it.

“So basically, think of gender as a spectrum. Over here you’ve got women. This includes trans women, who are women that were assigned male at birth. One the other side you’ve got men, which includes trans men. In the middle, you’ve got nonbinay folks. Nonbinary is an umbrella term that just means these people live outside of man and woman. This includes agender people, who have no gender, and people who identify as more than one gender, like bigender or pangender. All along the scale you have people who are genderfluid and genderflux, whose definition of their own gender may slide along the scale at any given moment. You also have people that identify as demiboy, or reversely, demigirl, people that only identify partially as boy or girl, respectively. There’s also the idea of being transmasc, or transfem which are people who were assinged a gender at birth, but identitfy more with the other, without completely identify themselves as trans. So a person assigned male at birth who doesn’t consider themselves a transwoman, but more comfortably identities with feminity as a concept.”

He held out the drawing to Steve.

“There’s also different pronouns, and this isn’t even touching the intersex scale. Gender is so fucking whack, Sweet Thing.

“There’s a lot of different ways to play with it, and each person is so different. You can identify one way and present in a way that isn’t stereotypical to how you identify. And no one can tell you you’re wrong. Because you’re not.”

Steve was studying the drawing with wide eyes.

“Pronouns?”

“Like how I was assigned male at birth, and identify as male, so I use he/him pronouns. People along this scale can use whatever pronouns feel best. Some people use they and them so that they aren’t being gendered, and there are other gender neutral pronouns, like ze/zir and ve/ver.”

“But I mean, they is like, it’s plural.”

“Nah. They has always been used as a gender neutral pronoun. Plus, if it feels best, it can mean whatever the fuck you want it to.”

“So I could, I could like, be a them.”

“If that feels good.”

“Use it for me. Let me see.”

“Okay, um, I was laying in bed with my significant other, Steve and they were asking me questions about gender identity and expression. Afterwards I made them a cup of tea and cuddled them all night.” Steve’s eyes opened back up.

“Bill, that’s, fuck, that’s it.”

“They?”

“They. That felt, it felt good. I didn’t, I don’t even know.” Billy squished them tighter to himself.

“I’m glad, Baby.”

“So, does that make me nonbinary?” Billy just looked at them.

“Does it? You tell me, Sweet Thing.”

“I think so. Nonbinary. So like, maybe transfem? But I think I would be more agender”

“If that’s what’s true. You can call yourself nonbinary and leave it at that, or you can take as many labels as you feel fit. It’s your identity. Fuck with it as you see fit.”

Steve was worrying their lip.

“And you don’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m not, not a guy.” Billy pressed a kiss to their forehead.

“‘Course I don’t min. You’re still you. You’re gender doesn’t matter to me at all. As long as you’re happy and comfortable and safe. That’s what matters to me.”

-

Steve needed to tell the party.

They spent so much time with the gaggle of kids, and kept getting fucking misgendered. Not that it was their fault, they didn’t know Steve was using different pronouns now.

“Look, I know those little Gen-Z’ers aren’t gonna care. I mean they see me in makeup and dresses and shit all the time, but this feels, big.” Billy was driving them over to the Byers’ place where all the kids were waiting. “But, but what if they take it wrong. What if they just think I’m this confused girl or something. Or they say I need to make up my mind.” Billy reached over to grab their hand.

“If they do, I’ll punch ‘em out. One by one. Fuck them kids.”

But they all took it so fucking well, it was actually anticlimactic.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious you don’t conform to a gender binary.” Dustin hadn’t even looked up from their campaign as Steve fucking came out. “But like, thanks for telling us. And trusting us. You’re pretty brave I guess.”

Steve rolled their eyes.

“Thanks. You’re all so sweet and sensitive. I was shitting myself on the way over, and none of you are even fazed.”

“Yeah, I saw this coming.” Lucas rolled one of his dice.

“Do you want to do it again? We’ll all pretend to think you’re disgusting and call you a freak or something. Would that be better?” Mike had a challenging look on his face. Steve just slumped into the couch.

“No. Whatever. It’s fine.” They were actually pouting.

“What, you wanted like, a Lifetime movie moment? Where we all cry and say that we love you regardless and pretend we literally all didn’t see this coming?” Mike rolled his eyes.

“I mean, a little pomp and circumstance would be nice. Accepting myself and coming out to you all was a bunch of breakdowns in the making.” Dustin threw himself dramatically onto Steve’s lap.

“Oh! Oh, Steven! My sweet dear loved one! This is shocking news! But my love for you will never crumble! If anything, it is fortified!” Steve just laughed and shoved Dustin off their lap.

“Brat.”

-

“Can I just get a cheeseburger and fries?” The peppy waitress was twirling her ponytail, batting her eyes at Billy like Steve wasn’t right fucking there.

“Of course. Anything else for you?” She pat her eyes. Billy just blinked at her, completely dead-eyed. He gestured to Steve.

“Sorry, Girl. Didn’t see you!” She tried to laugh it off. Steve’s blood went cold.

“I’ll get the same please.” Her eyes widened at the sound of Steve’s voice, still deep, still masculine, despite the light blue dress, the pretty makeup.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get that right out for you boys.” She shot away, embarrassed. Steve let their head fall onto the table.

Billy ran his fingers through their hair.

“Two for the price of one misgenderings.” They muttered into the table. Billy was gently scraping his nails into their scalp. “That was like getting kicked while down Jesus.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I’m sorry I can’t totally understand how shitty it makes you feel.” They sat in silence for a moment until Billy tugged on their hair as the waitress approached with their food. She set it down cautiously.

“Could we get some ketchup, please. And they’re gonna want mustard.” Steve smiled weakly at him, they way he overemphasized using they.

“Um, of course. Anything else?”

“Could you grab them another water?” It was just less than half-full, but Billy couldn’t be stopped.

The waitress just blushed, filling Steve’s water and placing ketchup and mustard on their table with a little enjoy.

“Bill, she didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, but she still did. And I wanted you to stop feeling invalidated.” Billy shoved the burger in his mouth.

Steve just smiled at him, told him he ate like a pig.

[strangertheory]

Being LGBTQA+ in the 80s

Fans that expect characters to understand and identify themselves as lgbtqa+ in Stranger Things, or that think the story should have had characters that are 14 years old assert their identities by this point in their lives and by this point in the story, might not be aware of the severity of the ignorance and homophobia of the era. I anticipate that other characters will eventually be canonically revealed to be lgbtqa+ in the series, but I want to explain more about why it was difficult to recognize yourself as lgbtqa+ while living in small-town America during the 80s. Here is some quick history and a little bit of context:

The American Psychiatric Association didn't vote to stop categorizing homosexuality as a mental illness until 1973, and even when it was finally declassified as such, a good portion of the APA still disagreed with that decision so they actually decided to list "sexual orientation disturbance" in the DSM all the way until 1987.

The World Health Organization didn't remove homosexuality from its ICD classification until 1992.

[source: Psychology Today]

When many medical professionals and "experts" still believe that the lgbtqa+ community is mentally ill, and you live in a rural small town in the 80s: the vast majority of your neighbors and friends, even the ones that are kind to you and care about you, most probably view the lgbtqa+ community as being mentally ill and unhealthy. Then add to that the stigma, ignorance, and misinformation surrounding the ongoing AIDS crisis! Yes, larger cities in the US had some Pride parades in the 80s. Yes, there was a thriving lgbt culture in the 80s. But it was still heavily stigmatized and isolated from mainstream society. Especially in small towns like Hawkins.

The 80s was a challenging era for those seeking to better understand their sexuality or gender. Many lgbtqa+ folk in the 80s genuinely believed that something must be wrong with them because some doctors and their communities told them that their desires indicated that they were sick. Just understanding and acknowledging your lgbtqa+ identity to yourself was hard. Then add coming out to your loved ones and community, and the prospect is even more intimidating.

Our favorite assertive and opinionated Robin Buckley only admitted to having romantic attraction to a girl after a day of being tortured and fearing for her life and while she was still heavily drugged and in the company of a close friend. And even after everything they had been through, Robin was still holding her breath waiting to see what Steve said. "Holy shit."

Will Byers grew up with a notably homophobic and abusive father. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas have repeatedly encountered homophobic bullying at school from kids that are repeating their parents hateful attitudes and words frequently. "He's dead. Probably killed by some other queer. That's what my dad said."

Don't expect 14 year old characters, let alone the older teens or even any of the adults, to suddenly work up the courage to confess their lgbtqa+ identities to anyone until they are confronted with a moment of truly desperate and determined clarity and bravery. That moment will be earthshattering to them.

Even if Jonathan would immediately embrace Will no matter what, that doesn't change the fact the rest of the town and other people in Will's life might not. I am so glad that Will has Jonathan in his life, but Jonathan cannot fully protect Will from the harsh judgement, fear, and bigotry that would potentially spring up in other corners of Will's life.

I believe that there are definitely other lgbtqa+ characters in Stranger Things beyond Robin, and that the writers will address it canonically in the series. But it will not be an easy journey for the characters. Please do not accuse the writers of being homophobic for not having characters aknowledge things explicitly sooner: it would be unrealistic. However! I firmly believe the writers have been intentionally queer-coding certain characters. In a story set in the 80s: implications matter. What is conspicuously left unsaid matters. ("Lonnie used to say he was queer: called him a f*g." "Is he?" "He's missing, is what he is!") Small gestures matter. Symbolism matters. Subtext matters.

We need to understand the way in which the characters choose to express themselves is always within the invisible confines of not only their limited understanding of their own potential to be lgbtqa+ in the first place, but also within the confines of the bigotry and fears of their families and community. A closeted person in a small town in the 80s is rarely going to pursue an lgbtqa+ relationship directly until they've indirectly confirmed that their feelings are returned. PDA could be genuinely dangerous for lgbt couples. We need to remember these nuances when critiquing the way in which the writers may or may not be representing lgbtqa+ characters.

The creators of Stranger Things are clearly cognizant of the oppressive and ignorant politics of 1980s small-town America and how that makes admitting who you are to yourself just as challenging as admitting it to your loved ones and your community. I look forward to seeing how the writers explore the self-realizations the characters might face as they get older and begin to know themselves outside of the shadow of their parents and their community's prejudices. I want everyone to be true to themselves. To love themselves. To be loved. To be happy and to be safe no matter who they are, who they love, or who they desire. ♡

Although it is still hard to come out in America even today: I appreciate how far we've come since the 1980s.

Let's not forget it. 🌈

[orionwhispers]

Perfect Places // Steve Harrington

(A/N - yep. this isnt peaky, i know. im taking a little breather so i dont completely burn out writing tommy, but trust me i have 3 wips for him coming soon!! i dont know if any of you guys will like this bc its stranger things and thats ok!! i just had a blast writing it and i love steve and it really challenged me. pls let me know if u like it!! stay safe my loves xxx)

warnings - angst but also so much fluff your teeth will rot 

You felt like the moon was mocking you.

It loomed overhead, round and full and beautiful, the colour of purity and innocence, a beacon of light contrasting against the ink coloured sky. Your face was red hot, streaked with tears that dripped down your nose and collarbone and into your shirt, staining you with sadness that you could feel clawing under your skin.

You were sat on the Byers’ front porch, the sneakers you had once kept so pristinely clean were now caked in mud, your socks soaked through. You felt numb, you ached for something; a familiar lash of anger or heartache, anything to make you feel human again, but you just felt numb.

You could hear clattering from inside the house, low murmurs of voices and whispers tangling together, but you blocked them out like it was just white noise. The steady hum of those you loved and trusted brought some comfort, but that was instantly replaced by longing for the one person who deserved to be there, the person who deserved to still be alive.

You had been ecstatically high on adrenaline, you were terrified but vivacious as you helped bundle your boyfriend and the kids into Hoppers’ car as he raced past the Laboratory’s gates. You remembered the feeling of Steve’s hands around your waist as he pushed you into the back, flustered and protective, determined to get you away from any danger.

You should have said something.

You knew something was wrong, but you kept quiet. The air in the car was thick and dense like smoke, and Hopper was covered in crimson coloured splotches, you noticed the way he didn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. You should have said something, should have asked where your Uncle was, should have demanded an answer, but instead you pushed those thoughts away and watched the road through the windshield until your vision went blurry, Steve’s thumb soothingly rubbing over the top of your hand.

You knew he felt it too.

It was only when you reached the driveway of the Byers bungalow, feet moving on autopilot, tearing through the front door and seeing Joyce waiting for you, tears running down her face as she pulled you into her chest, did you realise the immensity of the situation. You let out a wail that could rival a demogorgon, sinking down into the coarse fabric of her hospital gown, her hands clambering across your frame, desperate to offer any comfort she could.

Steve was beside you in an instant, gripping your elbows to stop you falling onto your knees and onto the shag carpet, cradling you into him like a child. He felt so helpless, not knowing how to ease your pain, words getting stuck in his throat like cotton balls as he watched the girl he loved shatter into pieces. One look at his familiar face contorted in torment and it set you off again, coughing and spluttering like you were drowning in your tears. You pushed the consolatory hands off of you harder than you had intended, feeling suffocated and in desperate need of some form of relief. You were no good to anybody like this, you needed to wallow in your grief alone, Joyce had bigger problems and you refused to drag her down under with you.

You stumbled towards the front door, murmuring “I need some air.” You sank into the darkness like it was an old friend, wrapping your arms around yourself as your head throbbed and pulsed. You let the cold air hit your bare skin and fell to the ground, knees to your chest and silent screams leaving your throat.

Steve ran forward to be by your side, but Hopper pulled him back by the hood of his jacket, a large hand consoling your distraught boyfriend, “Let her go kid, give her a minute.”

He gave you five.

Watching the hands tick away meticulously on the clock above the fridge, he flexed his fingers and allowed the slow and steady noises to keep him grounded. He loathed the idea that you were outside alone, beautiful face covered in tears, heartbroken and shattered. Not only that but the knowledge that those things could be looming in the woods waiting to sink their teeth into you was driving him mad with paranoia. The only thing stopping him from pulling you inside where he could safely watch you was the unwavering concern that not letting you grieve would do more harm than good, so he settled for watching you through the window, hands clamped around his trusty bat - just in case.

————————————————————

You were sure you had run out of tears. Exhausted and dehydrated, you buried your head in the palm of your hands, desperate to stop the mind numbing pain at the back of your skull. The trees rustled gently, olive coloured leaves glinting under the stars. You wondered what could be lurking inside of the forest, but you were too drained to care.

You heard the door creak behind you, but relaxed at the familiar weight of Cortez’s against the soft wood.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, almost timid. Sounding so foreign coming from his mouth, so cautious and kind that it almost made you start crying all over again. He paused momentarily, before inhaling and sitting down beside you, his long legs awkwardly bent, his back starting to ache, but he couldn’t care less. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, unsure how to break down the barrier that was forming between you. Your hazy eyes lingered on the T-shirt’s and sweaters dangling from the Boyce’s washing line, sleeves swaying with the movement of the wind, almost as if there was an invisible person dancing inside.

Steve was the first to break the silence. He usually was, his quick wit and smooth demeanour had been one of the reasons you had fallen for him in the first place, the only person you had ever met that could make you melt into a puddle and then cry with laughter with just a few sentences.

“How you holding up?” He faltered, picking angrily at a loose thread hanging from his denim jeans. “That was a stupid question, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t trust yourself to form words just yet, but you tilted your head as much as you could muster, communicating with your boyfriend in that nauseating way that only the both of you understood, except this time it felt sour instead of sickeningly sweet.

You crunched a stray leaf under your shoe, mulling over the sound as it tore under your heel. “It doesn’t feel real.” You muttered finally, biting your lower lip with your front teeth, letting the pain stop your tears. “I keep expecting to see his face, his stupid goofy grin.” You smiled gently, “I keep waiting for him to turn up and say it’s all a prank, but I know he won’t, he’s too kind for that.”

“He was the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Steve said truthfully, “He was a good guy.”

Was. Three words that swam around your head and tangled your stomach into knots and you choked on the thickness in your throat. The strangled groan was so heartbreaking that Steve wanted to tear apart the things that did this to you with his bare hands, but instead he pulled you closer with them, clasping you against his chest.

He let you cry, he let you ruin his t-shirt and cover him in your mascara and wet, hot tears. He would let you bawl into everything he owned, even his prized The Clash shirt or limited edition Charlies Angels sweater that was buried in the back of his wardrobe - he would give it all to you, to stain and rip and ruin, if it meant you had at least one moment of solace.

Under the beautiful navy sky littered with stars, Steve sighed, wishing he knew what to say. He wished that he was as articulate as Nancy, or as strong as Hopper, he’d even take being as soft spoken as Jonathon, if he knew it would make you feel better. But you hadn’t fallen in love with any of them, you had fallen in love with him and he was going to do everything in his power to try and make his girl hurt a little less. So he tried to distract you.

“Do you remember our first date?” He said, breaking the silence, his eyes focusing on the branches of a tree swaying in the distance.

He heard you sniffle, felt the rise of your head under the palm of his hands. If you were surprised by his question you didn’t show it. “How could I forget?”

He smiled, thinking back to the day, over two years ago. If he thought hard enough he could almost relive the gut twisting anxiety and the sweat pooling on the nape of his neck as he pulled up to your house. The two of you had been friends forever, bound since the day you both shared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the playhouse in kindergarten. But you both started naturally drifting apart around the end of middle school, settling onto different paths as you grew up, only really seeing each other in the hallways or at the back of the school bus.

By the time you both entered high school, Steve was completely swept up with basketball and his newfound popularity, and you were settling into your own friendships and trying to stay on top of your grades. You rarely saw one another, but by chance the two of you were paired as lab partners one semester in sophomore year, and soon science became his favourite subject. Seeing you became the highlight of his day, better than scoring a goal in basketball or cutting class with Tommy and Carol. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you, the conversation so easy and genuine, and he made it a personal challenge to have you in stitches by the time the bell rang.

He fell hard, and fast. He had always thought you were beautiful, even when you were just kids and you wore your hair in two braids and seemed to always be covered in glitter. There was just something about you, an ease and a lightness that you carried, something about your smile and sound of your laugh that had him stumbling over his sentences like an idiot. He liked hearing about all of the things he had missed, like how you got grounded for sneaking out of your room to go and watch the new Star Wars, or how you crashed your dads car into a tree the very first hour after you got your license.

It wasn’t long before he realised that his day didn’t feel complete unless he had spoken to you. He started noticing how every game he searched for your face in the bleachers, the only person he really cared about seeing. His eyes would flicker over faces at parties, determined to find your sparkling eyes and kind smile, finding the hit of seeing you more electric than the cheap beer and fizzled out joints being passed around him.

He was nervous. He didn’t get nervous - he was Steve Harrington for Christ’s sake, but somehow you had managed to turn his whole world on its axis. He tried to live his life with as little regrets as possible; but in the quiet of his bedroom, with the moonlight casting shadows across his walls, he couldn’t help but feel furious with himself. If he could go back in time and do everything all over again, he would make sure to hold onto you as tight as possible and stop the two of you drifting apart.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were a knockout. The kind of girl that would bring even the strongest of men to their knees, the kind of girl that lingered in his brain long after he had fallen asleep. He also knew that he wasn’t the only one who had been completely captivated by you. He had seen the way Mike Adams cornered you after the school assembly, laughing at something you said as you sat with a group of friends, an enamoured look in his eye. He saw the way Jacob Taylor tried his hardest to get as close to you as possible at a house party, dazed by the way you twirled your hair obliviously and smiled like white, hot sunshine.

He knew what they were going through, smitten and stupid and dopey and practically a puddle at your feet, because he felt exactly the same way.

He was going to ask you out to dinner and then the movies. He had an elaborate speech planned in his mind, one that he had practiced in the mirror repeatedly - not that he would ever admit it. He was nervous. So goddamn nervous of screwing up the one thing that he really fucking liked, of potentially ruining your friendship and making himself look like an ass for misreading the signals and making you uncomfortable that he almost talked himself out of it as he walked into the physics lab one rainy afternoon.

But when he saw you there, looking up at him. As sweet as cinnamon in your oversized lab coat and stupid goggles, lips slightly chewed and fingertips stained with charcoal, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting:

“Doyouwanttogooutwithme?”

For a moment he wished he took photography class, so he could snap a picture of the blush on your cheeks, have a physical copy of your wide smile and the glint in your eyes; something to look at when he was trying to fall asleep.

“About time, Harrington.” You had said, and it had knocked all of the wind from him, and he had walked around with a big goofy grin for the entire rest of the day.

————-————————————————

“I remember being so goddamn nervous. I thought I was going to throw up.” He said now, his voice laced with humour, somehow always knowing how to diffuse any situation.

You curled up further into him, craving his stability and warmth, and you relaxed as you felt his palm rubbing comforting circles across your back.

He looked into the darkness, remembering the anxiety filling him as he waited for you on the street by your house. He remembered peering into the rear view mirror, fluffing the edges of his hair with his fingertips, twisting and pulling the strands until they sat where he wanted. He could feel his leg shaking, foot hovering above the gas as he struggled to keep his composure. He hadn’t even been this nervous when college scouts came to a game, and he seriously needed to stay cool before you opened the door and saw him.

“You brought me flowers.” You said quietly, and he looked down at you with a gentle smile, his heart clenching at the sadness in your voice.

He remembers standing in the grocery store, cursing and muttering under his breath, wondering what was more romantic: tulips or sunflowers.

He bought both.

He can remember holding them in his shaking hands as carefully as he could as he walked up the stone path to your house.

“I had to talk myself into ringing the doorbell.” He felt you scoff under him and he laughed,

“Seriously! I was terrified, more scared than I was tonight.”

Its a lie. Running through the junkyard and fighting off strange monsters had been exhilarating, but also the most terrifying experience of his life; especially when he knew that the kids and you were just metres away, hidden in the old bus. He really thought he was about to die when the demodog reared and snarled in his face, teeth gnashing at his throat, but in those moments all he could think about was protecting you.

It’s strange, he had never been so terrified to lose someone.

“And then Bob opened the door.” Your voice was heavy and thick, like you were swallowing honey and it snapped him out of his thoughts, reminding him of the reason you were both huddled outside.

Your parents worked ninety percent of the time, only really coming home to crawl into bed and then driving back to work six hours later. You were used to it though, falling into a somewhat stable routine of eating TV dinners and doing your homework to the sounds of Jeopardy! playing in the background. Despite the lonely nights and your parents distance, there was always one person who tried their absolute best to make you feel safe and secure. Your uncle, Bob Newby.

The goofy, gold hearted manager at RadioShack was always there for you, especially whenever your parents weren’t. He always made sure your refrigerator had something green inside, and would come over after work to sit and watch cheesy rom coms with you. He even installed new locks and security lights in the yard and on the porch, just to make you both feel better, even though it was Hawkins - and nothing ever happens there.

He was basically a surrogate dad and your best friend, and you weren’t even embarrassed to admit it. Some of the happiest nights of your life had been with him, like when you went to the midnight viewing of The Godfather and shared toffee popcorn and cherry twizzlers, or when he drove you to Lake Michigan for your birthday and you ate sandwiches next to the water.

So when he found out the captain of the basketball team had asked you out on a date, he was a little apprehensive.

“He really grilled me.” Steve muttered with a sad smile, it hurt him that one of the most poignant moments of his life was now to be covered in a thick, black cloud, and he could only imagine what you’re going through. “I thought he was going to pull out a shotgun.”

“Psh. It would have been a lightsaber.”

You remembered shovelling in cereal at the breakfast bar the morning of your date. Bob watching you over his steaming mug of coffee curiously.

“So… Any plans for today?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled fondly at your uncle. “Steve is taking me out. This is only like the billionth time I’ve told you.”

He nodded, “Right, Right. Steve. Steve.” He tested the name on his tongue. “And Steve is - the captain of the basketball team right?”

“Yep.” You said, through a mouthful of sugar. “Oh, and he’s the leader of this really tough biker gang, to get in you have to murder three kittens.”

You watched his eyebrows shoot to his hairline, and then slowly fall back to their original spot when he caught on to your teasing. He held up his hands in playful surrender, taking a swig of his drink and then placing his mug on the granite counter.

“I know I’m being a fusspot! But I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know, Bob! But I’ll be fine! We’re just going to catch a movie and then dinner.”

“Ok.” He sighed, turning to wash up the dishes left from the previous nights pig out fest, but his hands stilled before he could twist the faucet. “Wait! Nothing R rated - or too romantic, and tell him to knock it off if he tries that whole ‘I’m so tired, let me put my arm around you schtick!’”

“I’m ignoring you now!”

You remembered getting ready, picturing the soft blush hue of your summer dress, and the taste of your strawberry gloss on your lips. You remembered the heat of your curling iron as you meticulously styled your hair, checking your reflection as a way to distract from the minutes ticking by.

You knew the familiar feeling of sweaty palms and butterflies before a date, but that morning it was as if somebody had realised a kaleidoscope of monarchs and swallowtails inside of you. You were completely nauseous, but so excited, and you felt like you were floating on cloud nine, unable to believe that Steve Harrington - the boy you had been crushing on since first grade - wanted to take you out.

You were nervously touching up your makeup, widening your eyes and applying yet another coat of mascara, when you heard commotion downstairs - and the telltale sound of your date getting completely grilled. You practically flew to your feet, haphazardly tying your converse and grabbing your purse, hoping to save Steve from the clutches of your overprotective Uncle. You nearly slid down the carpet when you noticed the door was ajar, smiling widely at the sight of Steve clutching two bouquets, his hair perfectly coiffed and his sneakers white and gleaming.

“- No I’ve never been in an accident, Sir.” You heard Steve say, his voice carrying through the hallway.

“Hmm?” You heard Bob reply, “And what about alcohol? Do you drink it?

“Only eggnog at Christmas.” Steve replied with a grin, his lips falling down when Bob sent him a glare. “Ok, not in the mood for jokes.”

“Are you under the influence now?”

“What? No! Why would I… Wow.” He faltered when he noticed you at the top of the stairs, and for the first time his mind went totally blank, his brain short circuiting at the sight of you. He felt his mouth go dry and he struggled to say something, not wanting to look like any more of an idiot than he already was, but Bob got there first.

“You look great, sweetheart.” He said, voice brimming with pride.

You blushed a deep crimson, feeling awkward under both of their stares. “Thanks, Bob.”

As soon as you reached the floor you blinked up at the men watching you, raising a brow slowly when Steve didn’t move. “So are you ready?”

“Yep. Yes. Yep.” He said quickly, rummaging around his pockets for his keys, and then realising they were in his hands the whole time. “Lets go.”

“Be home before eleven!” You heard Bob yell, his words just carrying into the night before you managed to slam the front door shut.

After the initial awkward meeting at your door, and Bob shooting unconvincing daggers at Steve as he guided you towards his car, the rest of the date went smoothly. You had been out with boys before; middle school crushes that took you to the ice cream parlour in town, and letting your best friend rope you in for a double date with a boy you had never met - but nothing like this.

As the car lulled through the streets, any unease forming quickly uncoiled between the two of you, and it wasn’t long until you were both in stitches. It felt so natural and easy, and you found yourself wanting to know everything about the hazel haired man sitting next to you.

You ate at a diner just outside of town, because according to Steve: “they have the best strawberry milkshakes - ever. I swear they’re like crack.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Harrington.” You had said, shooting him a million dollar smile over your shoulder. He was glad that you walked in first, because it felt as though a bullet had soared through his gut.

——————————————————————-

“I remember the milkshakes.” You said. Steve looked down at you, curled up on his lap. He nodded at your words, thinking of summer days and winter nights snuggled up in your booth at the diner. You must have shared hundreds by now, drinking such an obscene amount of the sweet treat it was a surprise neither of you looked like a strawberry. You had ruined the fruit for him. He couldn’t take a bite from a strawberry without remembering the taste of your lips or the sound of your laugh, it was conditioned into him like he was one of Pavlov’s dogs. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it, strawberries had become his favourite fruit.

“I told you those milkshakes were great.”

“Yeah, you did.”

He could feel you wobbling under him, could feel the heart wrenching tremor of your body starting to shake with tears and he swore internally, trying his best to distract you again.

“And then we watched Ghostbusters.”

You let out a half hearted laugh. “And you almost shit yourself when you saw Slimer.”

“He popped up outta nowhere!”

“And then you spilt popcorn everywhere.”

“Yeah, that old lady was pissed.” He clicked his tongue at the memory, crumbs and melted butter flying everywhere, the entire row in front covered in his mess and glaring at you both, you laughing so hard into your sleeve you thought you might just pass out.

“And then I drove you home - way before curfew I might add - because I’m a gentleman.”

“And then you kissed me.”

“I think you’ll find you kissed me.”

“Ha.You wish.”

It felt good to hear the bite back in your voice, and it warmed him like a zap of electricity that his plan of distraction was working.

Besides, it was partly true - you had kissed him first.

That night as he pulled into your driveway, his gut felt like a huge boulder inside of him. There was nothing more that he wanted then to lean over the console and kiss you, but he was too goddamn nervous.

The date had gone so brilliantly, and he could feel himself, tripping, stumbling and falling completely head over heels for you, but he was so uncharacteristically anxious that it was kind of freaking him out. He was getting all worked up about things he had never thought of before, like his teeth clashing against yours, or accidentally knocking your heads together and giving you a mild concussion.

He left his car running, because he didn’t want you to be cold, (and the constant vibrations were good at hiding the tremor in his legs). It was fully black outside, the night sky a long stretch of navy and the stars were pretty but not nearly as pretty as the girl smiling at him in the passenger seat. Just as your eyes connected and he thought he was going to finally kiss you, the porch light turned on, a nice little reminder from Uncle Bob that he was still watching. You laughed exasperatedly and reached over, filling the distance between you as you tried to grab the strap of your handbag and Steve leant over to give you a hand with the sticky door, but instead your lips caught his and he froze in place, his eyes closed and his heart feeling like a jackhammer in his chest, all of his worries evaporating behind him like ocean spray, because suddenly everything felt right.

“Night, Harrington.” You had said smugly, leaving him in his car that suddenly smelt like cotton candy and coconut shampoo, and with an entire carnivals worth of fireworks erupting from his stomach.

————————————————————

“When I got inside he pretended he had just woken up.” You said now, your words coated with tears but laced with tenderness. “Tried to act like he wasn’t staring through the window watching us kiss.”

Steve tangled his fingers through your hair, anchoring the two of you together, hoping that the small action would give you at least some comfort. He mulled over all of the memories the two of you shared, picturing them shattered at his feet like shards of shimmering glass. He wasn’t sure how to comfort you and it hurt, the silence settling around you like thick, poisonous gas.

“What about our first anniversary? The first time we committed a felony.”

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Yeah and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time either, you little criminal.”

He remembered when you went out to a much too fancy restaurant in the city. How angelic and beautiful you looked in a little sundress and heels, stealing the breath right out of his lungs whenever he looked at you. How even when he was out of his comfort zone you felt like home, always making him feel stable no matter where he was. He remembered those glances you stole at one another, tongue in cheek laughter and suppressed smiles at the strange place you were both in, the two of you sticking out amongst the older, richer and snootier couples like a sore thumb.

He remembered the glint in your eye and the look on your face, the one that had him completely wrapped around your little finger - (but really, you could look at him anyway and he was a complete goner). It was how you both stood up at the same time, grabbing your handbag and wallet and rushing through the sea of people, laughing loudly as he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you with him, dodging the doorman who was cursing loudly at the kids who had just dined and dashed, even though neither of you had had more than a mouthful of your overpriced starter.

“You are such a bad influence, (Y/L/N).” He had scolded, playfully pinching the inside of your thigh as you lay stretched out on a picnic blanket overlooking the forests on the edge of town. You swatted him away, and he felt his breath hitch at the sight of you, hair tousled and makeup slightly worn, so effortlessly beautiful beneath the headlights of his car.

“Oh, please Hargrove. You would be lost without me.”

He didn’t reply, because it was true.

Instead he leaned over your body, stealing a quick kiss and also a handful of fries from the drive thru bag next to you.

“Hey!” You whined, leaning up and swatting at him. “Those are mine!”

“Technically, technically,” He said, licking salt from his fingertips. “They were at the bottom of the bag, not in either of the cartons - so they were never really yours.”

You rolled your eyes, punching him softly in the gut and laughing as he collapsed on top of you. “You are such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass.”

He ran his tongue over a canine, finding clarity in your eyes.“I can’t believe you’ve put up with me for a whole year.”

“Me neither, but the money your dad gives me to go out with you makes it worth it.”

His finger trailed along the bridge of your nose, his lips curling the same as the path his fingerprints followed. “Stupid.” It was a terrible comeback, but when you looked up up at him like that, all of his sentences spilt into a bowl of mismatched alphabet soup. He blinked down at you, feeling the way his heart hammered against his rib cage, engulfed in the terrifying feeling of being so in love with somebody. “Seriously though, this has - this has been the best year of my life.”

Your rosebud lips parted, showing him that dammed smile that would make him burn down the whole town if you asked him to. “Mine too.”

——————————————————————-

“Remember when I got a black eye because of you?” He murmured, glancing up at the stars that flickered above you both.

“Because of me?” You scoffed, halfheartedly. “Hardly.”

“Ok. Keep telling yourself that.”

There was once a time where he loved nothing more than spending Friday through Sunday completely wasted, waking up on somebodies couch, his mouth tasting like sour liquor and his clothes scattered across the floor - but not after he met you. He used to long for the high from downing tequila shots or jumping into the pool with hazy eyes, a burnt out joint being passed around friends, but soon he realised that nothing came close to the fever high he got from simply being around you.

He remembered sitting in the school parking lot on a Friday afternoon, listening to Tommy and Carol natter about how a group of seniors were going to break into the rec centre and get drunk, but there words were nothing but static as he looked for you among the familiar faces.

You had been officially dating for a few months, and much to Tommy’s dismay, it seemed as though neither of you had any intention of letting the other go. It stung the teenager when Steve started blowing him off to hang out with you, his usual alibi for wild parties leaving him high and dry. He was jealous of the way you managed to consume all of Steve’s attention, and the fact that since the two of you had gotten together, Steve was so much kinder to everyone, and didn’t want to join in with his juvenile antics. When you went to parties, he drank less and laughed more, and Tommy was left doing shots and keg stands alone.

More than anything though, Tommy was jealous that Steve had scored a girl like you, kind and soft and sweet, when he had trouble getting Carol to stay over longer than the time it took to drain a bottle of stolen wine. It made him feel envious and insecure, watching the way you kissed Steve in the hallways with rosebud lips and your eyes shone like diamonds under the gentle sun; when was a girl going to look at him like that?

“You coming tonight, Harrington?” He asked from the hood of Steve’s car, his legs dangling onto the asphalt.

“No.” Steve said, chewing on his fingernails. “Sorry man, I’m taking (Y/N) to the drive in.”

“Aww.” Carol preened, a solid supporter of your relationship. You hadn’t known her too well before you started seeing Steve and hadn’t expected to become so close to her, but now she was one of your best friends. Sure she could be a little vapid and a little rude, but she also made you laugh loudly and always helped you get ready for dates with Steve, and you really appreciated the way she let you into the inner circle. “That’s so sweet. You guys are too cute.”

Tommy ignored her. He could already feel himself boiling over.

“Cmon Harrington, it’s one night. It’s tradition.”

“No it isn’t.”

He exhaled loudly. “Well it should be.”

“I’m good, man. And besides, we’re still going to see the Bulls play on Saturday, right?”

“I guess.”

Silence settled around them like cigarette ash. Tommy, growing more irate by the second, toyed with the collar of his shirt and curled and uncurled his fingers. He wasn’t quite sure why he was pissed - as Steve’s best friend he should have been pleased with how love struck and happy he was, and it wasn’t as though he never saw Steve anymore, or that you had split up the group or anything - but he was still annoyed, and that’s why he said it.

“God, I hope she’s a better fuck than she looks. I mean, she must be if she’s got you this whipped.”

It took a moment for Steve to process what he had said, swallowing his friends words like they were barbed wire, his throat filling with blood.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Just what everybody else is thinking.” It wasn’t what everybody thought, but Tommy thrived off of mob mentality, and the small crowd watching in the parking lot was enough to spike his adrenaline.

“Tommy.” Carol warned, her voice thick and heavy, eyeing him from over the roof of the car.

“What did you say about her?” Steve asked, his face turning crimson, the shade matching the colour coating his pupils.

Tommy didn’t hold back, his hands firmly grasping his shovel, ready to dig himself deeper. “Jesus. Look at you! Look what she’s turned you into. She’s a bitch, and so are you.” He gestured wildly with his hands, the severity of what he had said was slowly sinking in, but he was stupid enough to stand by it for the time being.

Steve was livid. His body rattling like he had been struck by lightning. He knew he wasn’t some fucking white knight who had to defend your honour, but there was no way in hell he was going to let some fucking prick about you like that.

“And…you know what? The both of you can - ”

“Fuck you.” Steve brought his fingers to a fist and clocked him right in the nose, a sickening thwack echoing around the school. Tommy recoiled backwards, almost falling through the windshield. He managed to regain his balance at the last second, and his face was contorted with both pain and disbelief.

“What the fuck man?” Tommy seethed, spitting out a wad of blood and lunging at Steve, managing to grab him by his collar and slam him onto the asphalt, their jeans ripping across the gravel.

The two of them rolled around, a deadly mix of closed knuckles and crisp white sneakers. A small crowd had gathered around the two of them, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and rich with stories to be shared around the party that night. They both managed to get a couple good hits in, Steve just managing to get the upper hand before the school janitor started calling in for backup.

You had just left World Civ, your textbooks still cradled in your arms and your best friend laughing in your ear as you made your way out of the school and towards the parking lot.

“Yeah, I swear! She…” Your best friends voice trailed off as she noticed a blur of movement in the distance, her ears picking up like a bloodhounds. “Oh my God. I wonder what’s going on.”

You looked up shrugging your shoulders, expecting to see some of the wrestling team or soccer players roughhousing like they usually did, but your blood turned cold when your eyes focused fully and you caught sight of that damn perfect hair.

“Holy shit. Steve!”

If only your phys ed teacher could have witnessed the speed you ran across the car park; dust picking up with your shoes as you bolted towards your boyfriend. You managed to break through the inner circle crowding around them, the teenagers egging on Tommy and Steve as they scrambled towards one another, the sound of elbows and knees and fingernails clashing all around you.

“Hey. Hey! That’s enough!”

Poor Mr Springer tried his best to separate the two of them, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s waist and trying to tear them apart as they continued scrapping like junkyard dogs.

Your mouth was agape as a couple of boys helped break the two of them up, your eyes widening at the scarlet red blood staining the ground and the deep purple bruises already starting to show. You managed to catch Steve’s line of sight, his eyes widening at the sight of you, his face starting to swell.

“Steve? What the fuck!”

“Oh! Hey, babe? How did your pop quiz go?” He asked, throwing you a dazzling smile as though everything was right in the world.

Despite everything, you bit back a laugh, kneeling down to wrap your hands around him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” You said, cradling the now puffy side of his face, a quarter sized apricot indent growing under his eye.

He winked at you as he was pulled away and dragged to the principal. He knew he was in for a months worth of Saturday detentions, but he couldn’t care less. He avoided the death glare his former best friend was giving him, licking the blood pooling across his split lip.

If he had to chose between you or Tommy, or choose between nights in with you or nights out with the rest of the seniors - hell, if he had to choose between basketball and you, it would be you, every time.

Point blank, period.

———————————————————-

There was a chill in the air, swallowing the both of you whole. Steve could feel his jeans dampening, your tears cascading down your face and onto his denim. He could feel eyes on the back of neck, and knew without turning around that Dustin and the rest of the kids were watching from the kitchen window, waiting to jump out and rescue you both if something crawled out from the bushes.

He didn’t have much time left. Soon he would have to bring you back inside, away from the vulnerability of the night and into the embrace of those you had grown so close to. He thinks back with a grimace, to the fight you had over your new routine.

Bob and Joyce dating came as a shock to everyone involved, especially Steve. Not so much that Bob had found companionship with the pretty single mother, but more so that it meant you were spending more time at their house - with Jonathon.

He wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

No matter how many times you rolled your eyes and teased him - he wasn’t jealous.

He just didn’t like the idea of you sat next to him at movie nights, laughing with him during family board games, eating breakfast in the chair beside him, driving to school together and singing along to the stupid obscure bands that Jonathon liked.

Ok maybe he was a little jealous. Sue him.

He’d spent the night at your place, under the guise of helping you with your calculus homework, even though you had a higher grade than him, and he watched with sleepy eyes as you rummaged around your desk in the morning.

“What?” He mumbled under the slowly rising sun, half of his face still buried in your pillow. “What? Where? Where are you going?”

You rifled through your handbag and examined the contents, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Bob’s taking everyone out for lunch - well it should have been breakfast but someone - ” you emphasised with a playful glare, “Is making me late.”

“Whose going?”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“You know. Me, Joyce, Jon and Will.”

Jon.

“You didn’t tell me Jonathon was going.” He’s not sure if it’s true. He remembers fragments of you telling him your plans for the weekend, but he also remembers your words shattering before they reached his brain, because of that little strappy top you were wearing and the blackberry colour of your lipstick.

“What?” You asked distractedly, untangling your headphones from your Walkman. “I did.”

“No.” He clicked his jaw, a sign of his annoyance. “You just said Bob was taking you out.”

“With everyone - everyone includes Jonathon.”

“Right.” He’s pissed. His anger isn’t directed at you, more so the floppy haired teenager you’ll be sharing pancakes with, even though it’s not exactly his fault either. “Since when did you guys become The Brady Brunch?”

You let out a dry laugh, oblivious to the fact your boyfriend was getting more agitated by the second.

Did you really have to wear that skirt? He thought. Why did it have to be the short little denim one covered in cherries that made you look so damn good?

“You know how much Joyce loves her kids, Bob just wants to make an effort.”

“Yeah but why do you have to go?”

You shrugged, applying a swipe of lipgloss and tightening your cardigan in an effort to hide the hickeys blossoming under your collarbones. “He invited me, said it’s a family thing.”

“It’s not as though you’re really family though is it?”

He regretted it the moment the syllables left his mouth, but he was too wound up to think before he spoke. He cringed at the way you lost his gaze in the mirror, really fucking hating himself when he saw the crimson blush rise from your throat and onto your cheeks, and the sheen coating your eyes.

“I should go.”

You didn’t hesitate, grabbing your belongings and darting down the stairs. Family had always been a sore subject for you, and he loathed himself for striking you in the one place that it really fucking hurt.

“Wait.. Baby I -” He chased after you, but you were too fast. He wished that you would stay and argue with him, he’d let you scream and yell and shout at him, because he deserved it and he wanted to let you know he was sorry for being a prick, but you were already out of the door.

“Just up when you leave.” Were the last things you said, disappearing into your car.

He apologised with your favourite chocolates and red roses and an attempt to make you dinner. You couldn’t stay upset with him and his sheepish grin even when half of your kitchen was covered in tomato sauce and your moms pan was coated in burnt pasta.

The boy could screw up, but he always knew how to make up for it.

He trusted you, and loved you, and apologised for - in your words, ‘being a class A jackass’ - and even put away his pride long enough to tell you that, Ok, fine, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous of Jonathon and the bond growing between you.

That night as you curled up on your living room floor amongst an abundance of pillows and crocheted throws, you reassured him that you were in love with him and only him, even when he drove you up the wall. He fell asleep a little easier that night, his girl happy and safe in his arms, your words calming the storm that was once brewing in his mind.

…And maybe Jonathon wasn’t that bad.

———————————————————-

The light of the moon was harsh, almost like the street lamps that flickered in the distance. Steve could feel you moving underneath him, and his palms were starting to dampen, the reality of the evening finally sinking in.

Bob was dead.

As though the same thought had passed through you, you spoke, your voice strained and quiet. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know.”

Your voice cracked like thin ice. “He didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t… He.” You choked on your words, and Steve pulled you into him firmly, as if to stop you from falling apart.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

You sniffled, a sob tearing through your lungs and clawing through your throat, and you tried desperately to not think about your poor uncles lifeless body. “What am I going to do without him?”

You weren’t looking for an answer, but Steve gave you one.

“It’ll be me and you, it’ll be us. Forever.”

His future was uncertain. He was under a mountain of pressure from his teachers and coaches and guidance counsellors to get his head down and decide about college and scholarships and what he was going to do with his life.

He even took one of those quizzes that was supposed to help him figure his shit out, but when he sat there, pencil in hand and he read the words - where do you see yourself in five years? The only thing he could think of, was you.

He thought of you, so smart and pretty, your future just as undecided as his, but still by his side. He could see road trips and night drives and long distance calls, he could see morning laughter and monumental arguments and make ups, in the distance he could even see a house with a white picket fence and a big dog and a few kids who looked like a mixture of the both of you.

It seemed so simple. So much more simple than applying for college or an internship, because he knew that whatever he did, he wanted it with you.

And then this crazy fucking year happened, and things weren’t so simple anymore. Soon he was best friends with a bunch of pre teens and fighting off big scary fucking monsters and Billy Hargrove. Soon his small world of basketball and strawberry milkshakes and tongue kisses was filled with danger, and he needed to keep you safe.

“I miss him.”

“I know.” He says honestly. “I miss him too.”

He remembered the last conversation he had with Bob. It was before they found Hopper underground, and Bob was getting ready to leave and see Joyce and Will. You were in your room, finishing off the last of your homework, and Steve was heading downstairs to finish off the last of the pizza. He had just grabbed a Coke and a slice of pepperoni, when he saw Bob rummaging through the cupboard in the hall.

“Hey,” Steve said, waving the hand with the soda in it. “I heard about Will. Is he alright?”

Bob gave a kind nod. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “Well, actually, I’m not sure. I’m uh - I’m looking for my old board games for him to play with.”

Steve smiled, because that was exactly the thing Bob would do. “Well, give him my best.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Steve spun his heel to rejoin you upstairs, taking a big bite of melted cheese as he walked, before Bob spoke aloud once again.

“There’s something strange going on in this town.”

Steve remembered the year before, standing in Jonathan’s living room, twinkling Christmas lights draped on the wall and a baseball bat in his hands. He remembered Barb and Will, and the body from the quarry.

“Yeah.”

Bob exhaled, moving so that he was standing face to face with the teenager. “You make sure nothing happens to her, alright? You know she’s - you know she’s my little girl.”

Steve straightened, his voice solid. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

“I know. You’re a good guy, Harrington.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees, but he knows that for you, he will be.

“Take care of her.”

“Always.”

And they had partied ways: Steve upstairs, where he pulled you into his arms and made you laugh as he planted wet kisses on your face. And Bob to the Byers house to find a map spanning the length of the walls, and then the hospital, and then ultimately, to his death.

———————————————————-

The dark felt much more menacing now, shadows moving like long fingernails and jagged claws around you. He knew that he had to get you inside. He knew that the others would be making plans and setting traps and he knew how much safer you would be there. His heart was shattered after the small sobs leaving your body, your chest deflating like a burst balloon. He also knew that the best people to comfort you would be inside, Joyce with her motherly love, Dustin with his sweet, silly nature, and even Jonathon who truly loved you like a sibling.

“Cmon, lets get you inside.”

He wrapped his hands around you and helped lift you up, steadying you as you swayed on shaky legs. He cradled you into him, feeling the warmth of your breath and tears against his throat, and he inhaled, preparing himself and readying himself, telling him to be strong, for you.

He wrapped a free hand around the door handle, waiting to twist. He took one final look at the menacing bushes and trees surrounding you both, listening for a rustle from the branches.

He doesn’t know what will happen next. But he does know, that whatever it is, you’ll face it, together.

[bronskiibeat]

62 + 130 for the prompts if you’re feelin em please 💗

62: “You shouldn’t have said that.” 130: “Don’t apologise. That’s not the point. Did you mean it?” -x-

Steve had spent the week feeling sorry for himself. He’d had his face smashed in by his worst enemy, and then was dragged round a different dimension by some kids. He was allowed to feel sorry for himself. He hadn’t been to school since the day before it all kicked off at the Byers, and he had no intention of going any time soon. What was school when you’ve seen another world?

His pity party was interrupted by a knock at the door. The only person to have come round to check on him was Chief Hopper, a quick doorstep chat and Steve had been alone again, just him and his fractured orbit and the pit in his stomach that never went away anymore.

He dragged himself to the door, not having even the slightest bit of embarrassment about opening the door in the same pyjama pants he’d been wearing all week and no shirt at all. The hazy apathy cleared almost instantly as he found himself face to face with Billy Hargrove.

Steve instantly wanted to put a few more clothes on, instead he put an attitude on and hoped the other boy hadn’t noticed. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “What a lovely surprise!” He mocked.

Billy, for all he was worth, didn’t rise to Steve’s tone. “Look Harrington, can I… we need to talk. Can I come in?”

Steve’s face was saying ‘are you fucking stupid’, his words said. “Absolutely fucking not.”

A huff of frustration from Hargrove, and a step forward that had Steve stepping back reflexively. “I need to apologise for what I did?” “Oh you think?” Steve laughed, but the scorn of his humour didn’t reach Billy, who stood stock still, his face neutral but for a small drawn look between his eyebrows. “I like you Harrington.” Steve’s surprise turned to confusion almost instantly, pushing his eyebrows up and pulling them straight back down into a frown. He pinned the frown to Billy’s own eyes for a long tense moment before stepping aside, nodding Hargrove through the door.

Billy led the way down the hall, not that he knew the house, but his feigned confidence had Steve’s brain working overtime to make up for the lack of any reasonable thought for at least a week. Sitting across the table Steve waited for Billy to talk. That’s what he’d come here to do, and Steve wasn’t going to make it any easier for the thug. He would make this as uncomfortable as possible. After a couple of minutes of what Steve could only describe as torture, Billy spoke quietly, voice rough and low, eyes making themselves intimately acquainted with a spot on the table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done… that... to you.” Steve’s eyebrows, for the second time that day hit the ceiling. “So we’re just ignoring what you said on the doorstep apparently?” He offered as a reply, in no world would he be accepting an apology.

Billy’s eyes met Steve’s, an intensity there that made Steve want to close his eyes for fear all of his deepest darkest secrets were being read.

“I meant it. I like you. You’re tough. Max has explained a few things to me about last week.”

“Alright gay boy, calm down.” The Billy that was trying to be civil was quickly replaced with the Billy Steve knew so well, and Steve wasn’t sure why he’d egged it out of him, maybe because he was more comfortable with confrontation with the guy than a serious heartfelt conversation. How fucked was that? “Oh fuck off Steve. I come here to try and apologise to you, and you’re not exactly making that easy!” He said as he stood up, his chair falling behind him with a clatter. Steve stood up too, heart racing as he pre-empted the possibility of Steve gets the shit kicked out of him round two.  Now he’d started poking the beast though, he couldn’t stop. He was feeling. And even though he was feeling fear. It was something.

“Well crack on, just don’t drag me into your weird homo declaration of love. I’m not-“  That came around quickly to bite him on the bum as he found himself pushed back into the wall by the rough hands of Billy Hargrove grabbing at his bare shoulders. “You shouldn’t have said that.” Billy ground out between clenched teeth, face so close that Steve could smell the gum Billy was chewing.

Steve pushed himself roughly out of Billy’s grasp, stepping sideways and rubbing at the point where Billy’s nails had dug in and drawn blood. “Are... are you gay?” He frowned quietly, wondering where on earth this death wish had come from, but not having the energy to put into his self-preservation.

A month-long silence stretched between them as Billy watched Steve, he looked like at any moment he’d grab a knife from the countertop and throw it straight at Steve’s face. Steve stood still, like he was trying not to startle a bear he’d stumbled across in the woods, his hand didn’t leave his shoulder, but his free hand was held up as if to try ward of another attack.

As Steve was about to say something, take his question back, Billy spoke. “Yeah.” He whispered, a hard look on his face, so intimidating that Steve wasn’t fazed by the answer given, for fear of the repercussion of commenting.

“And I didn’t mean I like you in a fucking gay way. I like your guts, I like that you stand up for people other than yourself. And I’m fucking sorry, okay. I’m not fucking coming on to you or anything, I’m sorry.” Steve had never heard Billy speak in such an unplanned and disorderly manner and it threw some empathy up into his brain. “Don’t apologise.” He replied, running a rough hand over his face. “Fuck that’s not the point. Did you mean it?” Uncertainty passed over Billy’s features as he dropped back defeated into the chair Steve had vacated. “Mean what?” “Your apology.” Billy nodded for a moment before opening his mouth to vocalise the regret now so clear to Steve. “Yeah. I am so sorry I hurt you.”

[forever-rogue]

Lucky You - Part 1

A/N: Soo, this is my first time writing for Billy and ST in general. Hopefully it’s not complete garbage. This will have a few other parts too! Anywhooo enjoy! No spoilers contained within! xx

Word Count: 4K

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warning: Language, Billy being Billy (but nothing too bad)

MASTERLIST

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What?!” you snapped, finally unable to ignore the pale ocean eyes that were boring holes into your back. You’d felt his gaze linger on your figure as soon as you had gotten into the school’s gym that was crawling with tons of other students at the moment, meaning that he could watched anyone else - anyone but you. You wished it had been anyone but you. You hated Billy Hargrove…that’s what you had been trying to convince yourself of for the last several months.

But any sort of resolve you had against had slowly been dissipated since the day you had laid eyes on him and first saw that smile, that damned smile that almost never appeared on his face, but when it did you were done for. It was all but perfect, a megawatt smile on a face as beautiful as the most magnificent sunset. But you vowed you’d be in your grave before you ever admitted any sort of attraction to him.

“Well, well,” his warm voice was laced with amusement as he slowly sauntered over to you, sweat glistening all over his well toned and tan body. You refused to turn around, not wanting to give into his power, because you knew that he knew exactly the effect he had on women…most importantly you, “look what the cat dragged in.”

You let out a sigh, running a hand over your face in an exasperated manner, willing him with every fiber of your being to just to away. But of course he didn’t, no, fate would not be that kind. When you didn’t respond, he reached up and gently tugged on your ponytail, knowing it would annoy you more than anything.

“What the hell is your problem?” you almost screeched as you whipped around and came around face to face with him, your hand raised to smack him thoroughly across his pretty mug, just like he deserved. But Billy caught your hand, his fingers clamping down tightly on your wrist as that trademark smirk stretched across his lips.

“Not so fast Princess,” his voice was low but soft as you struggled to free your hand. He seemed amused at how easy it was to fluster you, but he eventually let you go, his hands landing on the his hips, just above the shorts that were slung low on his bottom half. One wrong move and they’d be on the ground, leaving him more exposed than anything. It was a tempting thought, and caused you to bit the inside of your cheek to keep your mind from wandering too far into the gutter.

“What the actual fuck do you want, Hargrove?” you tried to keep your voice tinged with as much as venom as possible, making it clear that you did not like Billy Hargrove. The quickly spreading tingling you felt running through your body was clear evidence that none of that was true. You had felt the sparks flood through your veins as soon as he hand had made contact with your skin. He held up his hands, trying to play the innocent victim card.

“I just wanted to say hi,” he cocked his head to the side, much like a confused puppy, his beautiful eyes as innocent and wide as possible. Damn, he was good, “you look lost, Princess. What’s got you wandering into the gym? Should you be in the library, all caught up in those books you seem to love so much.”

“If that’s your pitiful attempt at humor, it’s not working,” you sighed and took a step away from him. The larger the distance between your bodies, the easier it would be to refuse his advances, or so you figured anyway. Out of the corner of your eye you spied Steve coming out of the locker room, running a hand through his hair, trying to get it back to it’s normal state. A wave of relief flooded through your bones at the sight of your best friend, more ready than ever to leave and forget all about that this encounter. You were definitely not going to think about any of this tonight while you were locked in your bedroom, under the covers, and left with only your imagination. Definitely not.

“It’s seemed to put a bit of a smile on your face” he raised an eyebrow and you just rolled your eyes, ready to head off to the safety of Steve’s warm presence.You just flipped him the bird as you turned on your heel, “awe, come on, you don’t mean that!”

“Do too,” you countered without skipping a beat or casting another glance back in his direction. You heard him sigh softly, a sound of annoyance mixed with defeat, and it gave you a small sense of satisfaction. Another day that you had resisted Billy’s charm advances. It was a good day, and the rest of it was going to be spent with your best friends, which would provide a welcome distraction.

“You’ll go out with me at some point!” he called over at you, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.That was not what you were expecting at all, especially not from Billy ‘Bad Guy’ Hargrove. You swore you could almost detect a bit of softness and fragility to his tone, but surely that was impossible? This was Billy after all.

You turned around and held out your arms as a gesture of both what the hell and try me. You noticed that the corner of his mouth slowly started to turn up into a small smile, “I wouldn’t hold my breath, Billy. But you’re welcome to try. Spoiler alert though, I happen to despise assholes.”

“I’ll accept your challenge, Princess,” he suddenly seemed to have his spunk back, excited by the prospect of the challenge of winning you over. He liked a challenge, difficult or not and you were proving to be the hardest one to date, “once you finally get over yourself you won’t be sorry.”

“We’ll see,” were the last words out of your mouth as you almost skipped over to where Steve as now waiting for you. His mouth was hanging open and a confused grin was etched across his face. He’d only witnessed the last bit of your encounter with Billy but it was enough to make all the hair on his body stand up on end.

“What just happened? Did I just stumble into the twilight zone?” he quickly looked between you and Billy, as you just shook your head and pulled him along with you, “Hargrove-”

“Nothing to worry about, Pretty Boy,” you reassured him, opening the door and stepping into the chilly winter afternoon, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. It was the middle of January, and winter was still in full force - your favorite. That, combined with the sparks from your interaction with Billy, was enough to lift your spirits as you giggled at the look on Steve’s face, “Billy’s on some weird vendetta, thinking that he can get me to go out with him. I told him he’s welcome to try, but it’ll never work. I, Y/N L/N, will never ever go out with Billy Hargrove.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

February

You abhorred February the majority of the time it rolled around, for a multitude of reasons, namely because it signaled the end of the winter, and the onslaught of spring which led to summer, which was the absolute worst. But anyways, you also hated it because of Valentine’s Day, which you insisted was a crock of shit, all consumerism that got people to buy things they didn’t need, and to shame people who were single.

Not that you didn’t have a Valentine - you always did, a savior in the form of your best friend, Steve. You both hated Valentine’s Day, so you figured why not suffer together? After the first year you had done it, you’d both had so much fun going out and making fun of the all the couples, so in love and showing their affection off to the world, you’d decided to make it a tradition.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Steve greeted you with a big grin on his face, and a large frosted sugar cookie in his hand. You gave him a quick hug before eagerly taking the large treat and shoving it into your mouth, relishing in the buttery sweetness, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, as a few crumbs fell past your lips. Steve sighed and let out a chuckle as he wiped the top of your shirt, “Happy Disgusting Love Day to you!”

“Ahh, there you are,” he laughed as you started to riffle through your locker, attempting to gather all the things you needed for the first period, “hey, we still on for the usual after school? I was thinking we could go see a movie after dinner? It won’t be too late, I promise, and you’ll have plenty of time to finish your homework, little nerd.”

“Very funny, Pretty Boy,” you sighed dramatically at him; teasing each other was the pinnacle of your relationship and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, “but yes, whatever you want to do is fine with me. But just so you know, I’m picking the restaurant for this evening. I think Hopper’s taking Mrs. Byers to that fancy place. Maybe we can go there and gather intel!”

“You’re so nosy,” he laughed as the bell rang, signaling the start of classes. His eyes widened as he realized he was going to be late again, and he couldn’t risk that. He’d already gotten into too much trouble this year, “I’ll see you at lunch, gotta go!”

“B-bye,” you waved meekly after him, shaking your head at him; he was always something else. Grabbing the rest of your things, you shut the locker, but almost proceeded to drop everything out of your hands as Billy stood there, watching you intently, “Jesus H. Christ, Hargrove! You could have, you know, said something instead of standing there like creepy weirdo.”

“For someone so observant, you’re very clueless,” he threw his back with laughter, momentarily removing the heart shaped lollipop from his mouth, his curls bouncing magnificently in the light. You huffed at him and got ready to walk away so you wouldn’t be late either. Billy stopped as soon as you took a step and reached out to grab your arm in his - he had a strong grip and it sent a shiver up your spine, “hang on for a moment.”

“Billy, I’ve got to get to class,” you stated matter-of-factly, “don’t you have to do the same?”

“Yeah, but when’s the last I cared about that?” he went back to sucking on the lollipop, making a deliberate show of it, and you had to struggled to keep your eyes from flicking to his lips. It would have been wrong to admit that your wished your were that sucker.

“Maybe you should try it sometime,” you pointed out, a mischievous idea crossing your mind as Billy just shrugged, a self righteous little smirk on his face. You reached over and snatched the lollipop from his mouth, surprising him and yourself as you stuck it between your own lips, sucking on it for a few moments before releasing it with a loud pop.

“What are you doing later?” he blurted out his, his tan toned chest rising up and down faster than it had previously. Your actions had caught him off guard and sent all the blood rushing down south, his already tight jeans becoming more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. A small, delicate laugh escaped your now sticky lips as you slung your backpack over your shoulder, “ahh, come on, Princess, you know you want all of this. Any other girl would be dying to be in your shoes right now.”

“Maybe you should find one of them and proposition them,” you were proud of the effect you had on him as you noticed how he shifted his weight back and forth, a grimace on his handsome face, “besides I’ve got plans.”

“Harrington?” he asked through gritted teeth, annoyed by the idea of that pretty boy having his hands all over you. He knew you were close to him, but he hadn’t realized you were that close. You nodded, and he slammed his hand lightly against your locker, “I didn’t realize you were dating him. Does he even know where your c-”

“Eww,” you stopped before he could go on any further, holding up a hand to silence him, “Steve’s my best friend, dude. I’m not fucking him though, the thought of that alone is enough to make me want to die.”

“Then why are you spending the Valentine’s with him?” he was confused by your words that clearly clashed with your thoughts on him.

“Don’t have a boyfriend and he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Therefore as best friends, we’re spending the day together,” you raised both of your eyebrows at him, “duh. Besides, there’s no one here that’s even remotely captured my interest.”

“Come on, Y/N, just go out with me,” he was growing frustrated by your refusal to give into him. He never had to try this hard with other girls, they always threw themselves at him. Billy Hargrove didn’t have to beg a girl to go out with him, they begged for even the slightest bit of his attention. But not you; no, you provided a challenge he couldn’t back down from him. He was the hunter and you were the prey and he wasn’t stopping until you were his.

“Why?” you played with the sucker in your mouth, just to taunt him a little further, “you’ve given me no reason to say yes to you. Besides, Billy, let’s be honest here, I know your type. You just want a challenge, you only want me because I’m saying no, but as soon as I give in you’re just going to fuck me and then never speak to me again. I’m not into that, I don’t want a bad boy Billy.”

“It’s not like that,” he insisted quietly, although he knew you had a point. He had a reputation for a reason after all, but it had quickly changed once he had met you. He’d dropped all the other girls as he pursued you, attempting to win over your affection.

“Whatever you say, Billy Boy,” you gave him a wink as you turned away and started to head to class; you were well late now, but it was worth it. Any time spent antagonizing Billy was worth. You kept the lollipop in your mouth, a small piece of victory, “keep trying, maybe one day it’ll work!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

March

By the time March rolled around you were already eager for summer vacation to start, the lull of time off from school drawing you in like a siren calling to a sailor. Even though it was still a few months until you could enjoy the freedom of sleeping in without an alarm, not having to worry about homework, and getting to hang around all day with your friends, it was constantly on the back of your mind. You were...distracted to say the least, and there was just one other thing at the forefront of your mind.

Normally it would be school and cramming for exams, making sure to keep up your already perfect grades, but this year there were...other distractions. Namely in the handsome form of Billy. He’d taken it upon himself, almost as if he was on a personal mission, to get you to agree to go out with him. Just one date, one little date he always insisted, reassuring you that that was all it would take for you to fall for him. Normally you’d just roll your eyes at him, pat his cheek and tell him he was cute, but it was never going to work.

Your resolve had weakened ever so slightly, your words less sharp than normal, your glances softened, eyes not as hard as they used to be. You thought it hadn’t been that obvious but the relentless teasing from Steve and Nancy were enough to see that you were incredibly obvious. You denied everything they said, firmly reiterating that you would sooner be in your grave than ever even kiss him. You’d gotten close enough to that when you’d stolen his lollipop the month prior, the taste of which you were sure still lingered on your lips, sometimes bringing a blush to your cheeks.

But it was Pi Day, which you wouldn’t have known about, but your math teacher was a huge nerd, much like you were in other ways, and wanted to celebrate. He’d brought in several pies to share for the class and only taught for a few minutes before deciding to let you all do whatever you wanted. You were glad for the reprieve; it had been a long week already and you figured you’d use the period to take a quick cat nap - not before eating your piece of pie of course. It was a delicious looking Boston Cream Pie and you were eager to dig into it.

You were only stopped when Billy stepped next to you, sliding into the abandoned seat across from yours. Of course, he just couldn’t let it go.

“Hiya Princess,” he smirked as you set down your plastic spork, letting go of the idea that you’d get to eat this pie in peace. You propped your elbow on the top of the desk and rested your head in your arm as you glared at him, “what? No greeting? Not even a smart remark?”

“What Billy?” you gave in, watching as his face between through several expression changes, ultimately landing on bemused. He looked good today, better than anyone should have looked if you were being quite honest, and it was getting harder not to stare at his chest, how the shirt he wore was perfectly taught across his muscles. He reached over and swiped his fingers across the top of your pie slice, scooping up a bit of the whipped cream.

“Just wanted to say hello,” he said innocently as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off the sweet cream, tongue darting out of his mouth purposely to make sure he had your attention. He never broke eye contact with you, and it was a horrible struggle not to give in and watch him, and you instinctively licked your own lips which suddenly felt way too dry and chapped. You wondered how his lips would feel against yours, if they were as soft and supple as they looked.

“I’m sure,” you suddenly regained a bit of confidence as you came back to your senses, taking the plate and pulling it further away from his reach. He’d been hovering around you even more lately, always making sure to catch your eye, a smirk or wink cast at you. He was starting to break you down, and you had a feeling he knew. But you refused to admit defeat, and even if you wanted him (which you didn’t, you constantly assured yourself), you were never in a million years going to let him wear you down. You weren’t like all the other girls and never would be.

“I can be a nice guy,” he must have felt a rush of bravado because he reached over and placed his hand under your chin and tilted your face up to look at him, “maybe not to everyone, but for you. I can tell there’s something different about you, and I want to know more. I can tell you like me too, Princess, even if you’re denying it to yourself. I can see the way you look at me, especially when you think I’m not looking.”

“Oh?” you were growing more annoyed with him by the second, his normal swagger setting back in, “and how do I look at you?”

“With those big innocent eyes...I can tell you’re not though. I’m guessing I’m going to get to find out soon enough just how not innocent you are,” the words barely left his mouth before you took the plate of pie and smashed it onto his face, covering his features in the sticky chocolate cream.

“Tell me how I look at you now, Billy,” you fumed, all eyes in the classroom turning to face you as you single-handedly embarrassed him in front of everyone. He wiped the pie off of his eyes, anger spreading throughout his body as he bit his tongue to hold back his words, “don’t you dare presume you know a single thing abut me, Hargrove. I will never, ever go out with you, and that isn’t just a bunch of words, that’s promise.”

“Miss L/N! Mr. Hargrove!” your teacher wasn’t quite sure what to do as an awkward silence hung in the room and people starting to whisper among themselves. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, shushing the people around you, “that is enough out of the two of you. Detention for the next three weeks for the two of you, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“What the f-”

“Do you want to make it four weeks?” he raised an eyebrow at you, stunned by your sudden insubordination; you were normally the teacher’s pet, always doing whatever you were told. But there was something about Billy that set you off in a completely different direction.

“No,” you sighed, casting annoyed glances between him and Billy, who was silently fuming as cream slowly dripped off of his face and onto the floor.

“Good,” he sighed, “now I want the two of you out of my classroom. Hargrove clean yourself off and Miss L/N, I recommend you take the time to reflect on your actions.”

“Fine,” you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the classroom, leaving them all behind, annoyance filling every fiber of your being. You never used to be like this, you were the good girl. But now? Now Billy was starting to get to you, and he was likely pissed to the point were he’d never let you live it down.

“That was a bit dramatic, wasn’t it?” Billy scoffed as he stumbled out of the classroom, heading for the bathroom. You remained silent as he started to walk past you, a cool air about him, “didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Shut up,” you hissed at him, wishing your actions had been a bit more of deterrence on him, “I hate you, Billy Hargrove. You’re nothing to me, and you never will be. Drop the act and just leave me alone.”

“You just pied me in the face in front of everyone,” he pointed out, “you think I’m going to let you get away with that? I don’t think so, Princess.”

“Whatever Billy,” you rolled eyes at him, trying not to think about how good he looked, even covered in pie, that you may or may not have wanted to lick off of his face. It simply wasn’t fair, but you weren’t going to let it get to you, “we are never ever ever going out. No matter how hard you try.”

“We’ll see,” he said with a smirk before starting to duck into the bathroom, propping it open with one toned arm, “I always get what I want. And I want you. You’ll give into me eventually, trust me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to get another word in before he disappeared into the bathroom. You thought about storming in after him, but stopped yourself - the two of you alone in the bathroom might lead to exactly what you were trying to prevent.

You were weakening little by little and Billy knew it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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