#all that with the addition of what happened inside starcourt

[chrisbitchtree]

Time After Time

Now that the names have been revealed, here's my fic for the Harringrove Holiday Exchange 2022!

You can also read it on AO3 here!

***

December 31st, 1985. New Year’s Eve. One of the biggest party days of the entire year, and for the first time in Steve’s recent memory, he had no wild, over the top plans for the evening ahead. No parties to throw or attend, no clear indication that his night would end up with him buried inside a female classmate, whispering lust filled lies into her ear, or puking his guts out in someone’s parent’s rosebushes, both of which had happened on New Year’s Eve in the past, sometimes on the same night.

Most of his former Hawkins High classmates were home for the winter holidays, and once word had spread that the former king of Hawkins High was working at Family Video, they’d all stopped by to gawk and rub their fancy college educations in his face, but none had deemed their former King Steve worthy of an invite to the parties he knew they were throwing.

So no, Steve would not be seeking out any action that night. His plans for the evening were to finish up his hectic closing shift at Family Video, helping families make last minute selections for movie nights, and then pick up Robin and a large pizza so they could head back to his place and drink cheap champagne and watch a movie marathon of their own on the giant TV in his parents’ den. He looked forward to finally watching Back to the Future while not fucked up on Russian truth serum.

***

The night was great. He had a ton of fun with Robin, as he always did, talking shit about his former and her current classmates, bemoaning their pathetic lack of love lives, and guzzling cheap champagne while wearing the party hats and blowing on the noisemakers she’d bought, plus, he’d loved the adventures of Marty McFly even more the second, much more lucid, time around.

He let Robin paint his nails and put eyeshadow on him, like she always begged him to let her do, once they’d cracked open the drinks and he’d had a few glasses. She cooed over how beautiful he looked, laughing as she took Polaroids of his new look.  At 11:50pm, they’d flipped over to the live feed of the ball drop, in Times Square. At 11:59pm, Tears for Fears ended their set, and the countdown started.

His arm around Robin’s shoulder, Steve envisioned a fresh start for everyone involved in Starcourt. A chance to leave everything that had happened this year behind and lead normal lives for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been a difficult seven months since everything had happened, since they’d watched Billy Hargrove die right in front of them. He’d personally never been a fan of Hargrove, but he’d saved their lives that day, and a mix of guilt and sadness washed over Steve every time he thought about the other boy and the life he’d missed out on.

Just as they were about to join the crowd in shouting “Happy New Year!”, the live broadcast was replaced with an infomercial, a smiling woman with big blond hair listing the features of the newest model of Dustbuster.

Steve and Robin looked at each other in confusion, but they didn’t really think much of it. There must have been a glitch in the feed, and they’d had to replace it with something at the very last second. They played a few rounds of cards as they finished off the last of the champagne, then Steve supported Robin’s drunken form as she made her way into the guest bedroom. Tucking the blankets around her, he said a silent thanks for the addition of her to his life that year. He really didn’t know what he would do without her.

All seemed well as he went back downstairs and made sure the doors were all locked and changed the calendar over to the new 1986 one that his mother had left out on the counter, then shucked his jeans and sweater, leaving himself in just his underwear and a t-shirt to sleep in. Cocooned in his fluffy duvet, he found that sleep came to him easily, and he nodded off thinking of the year ahead, hoping that with help from Robin and Dustin, he’d be able to get into, at best state college, and at worst, register for some classes at a community college while he figured his shit out.

***

The first sign that something was off came as he was making breakfast for Robin and himself the next morning. Wanting to let her sleep, he’d walked silently past the guest room, quietly pulling out a pan and mixing up pancake batter. Looking for company as he cooked, he turned the radio his mom kept on the counter on low.

“It’s 9am on December 30th…” the radio host shouted. Steve almost spilled the batter as he turned and looked at the radio, sure he’d misheard, or the DJ had said the wrong thing. He shook his head, returning to the task at hand, flipping bacon and digging through the cupboard and fridge to see what he could put in the pancakes.

He went to wake Robin so he could ask her if she wanted raspberries or chocolate chips, but found the guest bedroom empty, the bed completely untouched. He glanced at the ensuite bathroom, but found the door open and the light off, no Robin in sight. Maybe she’d woken early and headed to the living room or ditched him and went home to sleep off her hangover in peace.

When he didn’t find her there, he walked back to the kitchen and picked up the phone, intending to dial her home number, hoping to find her there without arousing suspicion in her parents. They already weren’t big fans of Steve’s, as they assumed that he was Robin’s older, deadbeat boyfriend, not just her trusted confident and best friend.

As he was about to pick up the phone and dial, he noticed that the calendar was still set to December 1985, all the days crossed off except the 30th and 31st. That was odd, he was sure that he’d put up the new one his mother had left out before he’d gone to bed the night before. He turned, finding the 1986 one laying on the counter where his mother had left it.

Before he could give any more thought to it, the phone started to ring. “Harrington residence, Steven speaking,” he greeted the caller, as instructed by his mother at an early age.

“Hey Steve,” Dustin replied, sounding, in retrospect, way too casual for the words that were about to leave his mouth. “I think we have a problem. As you may or may not have noticed, we seem to be going back in time.”

He dropped the phone in shock, needing a moment to think things over before he could respond. So, this wasn’t just a weird dream, or if it was, he wasn’t the only one having it. It was upsetting and strangely comforting at the exact same time. A third option, one involving Dustin paying off the radio host to say the wrong date and breaking into Steve’s house to switch back the calendar flitted briefly through his head, but even for Henderson, who lived for playing tricks on Steve, that would be a lot, and a big chunk out of the allowance that he was putting aside to save for a new telescope, so Steve chose to believe him for the time being.

He picked the phone back up and let Dustin explain that they weren’t the only two experiencing this. He’d already spoken to Lucas and Will, who reported similar disruptions to the countdown the night before, and they were calling Mike and Max while Dustin spoke to Steve.

They agreed that everyone would meet at Steve’s in an hour, and then Steve let Dustin go so he could call Robin. Again, the phone rang before he could pick it up to dial. Before he could even greet the caller, Robin was shouting into his ear.

“Have you talked to Keith today, Steve? I think he’s going nuts. He just called me and asked me why I wasn’t there to open the store at 9, but it’s New Year’s Day! We’re closed, but he’s trying to tell me that it’s the 30th! Also, do you remember driving me home last night? I woke up in my own bed, and I don’t remember how I got there, and I’m really hoping that you don’t tell me you drove drunk. You didn’t, did you?”

When she finally paused to take a breath, Steve cut in, explaining what everyone else had experienced, telling her to go to work and act as if everything was normal, and that he’d fill her in later.

Seemingly unsure of how to reply, Robin had let him go, telling him in a shaky voice that she’d do that.

The third call came minutes later, as Steve was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening.

“Hello, Harrington residence, Steven speaking.”

“Uh, hi Steve, it’s Max?” Max whispered into the phone. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I just heard a knock on my window a few minutes ago, and when I looked, Billy was standing there.” She sounded like she’d been crying, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“You know, Max,” Steve sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “That’s not actually the craziest thing that’s happened today.”

***

Less than an hour later, the entire party and a seemingly alive Billy Hargrove were sitting around his living room. Before Steve could say anything, Hargrove was squinting at him.

“Are you wearing eyeshadow, Harrington? And are your nails painted? What have you been getting up to since I died?”

“You show up, out of the blue, since months after you died, and what you want to talk about is why I’m wearing eyeshadow?”

Billy gave him a look, motioning to Steve to answer.

Steve could already feel a headache coming on. “Robin came over last night…” Billy promptly cut him off.

“Oh, that’s the kind of kinky shit you and your girl do together.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Steve had half a mind to punch him, but took a deep, calming breath instead.

Max punched Billy in the arm, and he gave her a look, but thankfully, he shut up.

“So,” Steve said, “are you going to tell us what exactly happened here? Last time we saw you, you were laying dead on the floor of the mall with a hole through your chest.”

“Like I Max earlier,” Billy replied, “I don’t know what happened. I opened my eyes, and I was laying in the snow in the middle of the woods out near the quarry. No clue how I got there.”

Before long, they were all arguing about why they were going back in time, and what the reason was for Billy’s return.

The one thing they could all agree on was that it had to be connected to the Upside Down in some way. There was no way that it could be just a weird coincidence that they were seemingly the only ones that were going back in time. Judging by Keith’s reaction to Robin not showing up for work, they could only assume that no one else had been sucked into it.

From his seat on the corner of the large sectional, Will piped up. “We need to make a plan to defeat the Mindflayer, if it even is the Mindflayer this time and not something stronger this time around.”

“Haven’t we had enough heroics?” Billy sighed from his position standing with his arms crossed. “What is this thing’s obsession with us? Was getting possessed, stabbed, and dying for half a year not enough?”

Steve was not in the mood for Billy’s shit right now. He’d been looking forward to leaving this all behind, and knew it was the same for everyone else. “No, Hargrove” Steve replied, shaking his head. “We can’t just ignore that thing. You’ve seen firsthand what it’s capable of. We need to shut that shit down, and we need to do it as soon as possible.”

“And who put you in charge, princess?” Billy challenged, advancing on Steve, a sneer on his face.

Steve put his hands up in mock surrender. “Woah, Hargrove. No one put me in charge, but someone has to take the lead on this. Believe me when I say I know no one wants to deal with this thing again, but for better or for worse, we’ve clearly been summoned to deal with this thing again, and I’m not going to have the death of a bunch of residents of Hawkins on my conscience. I couldn’t imagine.”

Steve regretted the words as they were leaving his mouth. Hargrove’s lips quivered momentarily, and his face went uncharacteristically pale before he could steel his expression into something meaner.

The blond boy turned and started walking out of the room, towards the front door, Max hot on his heels, glaring at Steve over her shoulder. Steve moved to stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Billy…” he started, but Hargrove twisted out of Steve’s hold.

“Don’t you dare fucking talk to me about this again, Harrington. You’re right. You can never even imagine how it felt to know that I was responsible for all those people dying. Whatever your stupid little plan is, I want no part in it. Understand?”

Steve nodded, dumbstruck, watching Max and Billy walk out the door. Hopper followed with El, probably to give Billy and Max a ride home. There wasn’t anything else Steve could do at the moment other than go back in there and try to beg for forgiveness from Billy and Max later. He had bigger fish to fry right now.

Thankfully, in his absence, the others had started back up their theorizing and plotting, Dustin writing everything down as quickly as he could in a notebook he had open on his lap. They all politely ignored what had just happened. Try as they might though, they didn’t really get much accomplished before Steve had to head into work. If the Mindflayer wanted to fuck with them, then where was it? It had never been shy about showing up in Hawkins before.

***

When he got to Family Video, Steve gave Robin the rundown on everything that had happened at their meeting, and with Billy and Max. She agreed that it was best to try to let the Billy situation blow over a bit before he approached the blond again. Robin stayed his whole shift, and between customers, they tried to keep plotting, but they didn’t come up with much either.

At about 8pm, Hopper called to report that he had Billy at his house for the night, away from prying eyes, and that he’d done a sweep of the town with Will and El in tow, and neither of them had been able to sense anything Upside Down related going on, but they all agreed to keep their eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.

***

The next morning, as soon as he woke up, Steve raced downstairs, heart sinking when he saw that the old calendar was up, December 1985 on display. The 29th was now uncrossed too. So, it wasn’t a bad dream. They were really going back in time.

He made himself a plate of toast and a cup of coffee and sat, waiting for everyone to arrive. He barely touched his food, sick to his stomach with the thought of how far back in time they might go. Were they going to land on July 4th? Why? Or would it go back even earlier. Maybe they would have a chance to keep Billy from getting possessed at all.

At half past nine, his doorbell started to ring, and before long, everyone was again assembled in his living room.

Steve’s mind was racing. Thankfully, he had that day off, but he was going to have to sneak into the filing cabinet in the back office of Family Video, the one where Keith kept a binder with all of the past schedules, so that he could write down when he was supposed to have worked every day since he and Robin had been hired in early October. If they were going to make this work, they were going to all have to make it look like they were moving forwards in time, just like everyone else.

“So, Harrington, how am I supposed to believe this isn’t some stupid prank? I had enough of that thing the first time around, so if this is a prank, it isn’t a very funny one. I’m supposed to be getting out of Hawkins, not getting more deeply entrenched in it.” He muttered the last phrase, ducking his head and shaking it.

Steve couldn’t help but pity him.

***

In the end, after a lot of discussion, it was decided that the only thing they could do was try to live their lives as normally as they could, just in reverse. They would all go to school and/or work per usual and try not to worry about the impending doom.

The biggest issue was Billy. Max couldn’t exactly bring him home with her, and Hop’s cabin was barely big enough for him and El, let alone a third, fully grown, almost adult person.

Everyone turned to Steve. Fuck fuck fuck. He had no reason that Billy couldn’t stay here. “Fine,” he sighed. “You can stay here, Hargrove, but no snooping through my shit, no messing with me. This is just a place for you to hide out.”

“Got it, boss,” Billy saluted him, smiling for the first time all morning.

In the end, it was decided that Billy would start living at Steve’s on the 23rd of December, since his parents would be home for Christmas. At least he had a weeklong reprieve.

This was going to be so much fun.

***

Hopper dropped Billy off at 12pm on the 23rd. Steve showed Billy to the spare bedroom, helping him carry up his bags up. When he opened the door, Billy promptly flopped onto the bed, making a mess of the blankets and neat arrangement of pillows. “Nice digs you got here, Harrington. Fancier than any hotel I’ve ever been to. And mommy and daddy just let you have it all to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it.” Steve replied before it registered what he’d said. “Fuck, Hargrove. Sorry.”

Billy waved him off. “I’m choosing to be optimistic. I survived this once; I can do it again.” Only the slight waver in his voice betrayed his confident tone.

“That’s good.” Steve nodded, proceeding to show him the guest bathroom to cut the awkwardness.

***

For the first couple weeks, Billy was quiet. He mostly kept to himself, never inhabiting the same space as Steve. He ate his meals earlier or later than Steve, always washing and drying his dishes and putting them away right away, the fact that he’d left the guest bedroom at all only evidenced by the food disappearing from the fridge and cupboards at a faster rate than usual.

Steve could hear him watching movies in his room at night, the closed door muffling the sound. Curious about the kinds of movies Billy was into, Steve made it a habit to see which slot in his family’s vast movie collection was empty, then check to see which one it was the following morning when it was returned.

Animal House, Caddyshack and Ghostbusters had all been recent selections, which surprised Steve. He hadn’t taken Billy for a comedy fan, picturing him frowning at Full Metal Jacket or the Godfather. Maybe they had a bit more in common than Steve thought.

He was also a neat housemate, which Steve was thankful for, since he wasn’t exactly one to keep a super tidy house. Steve did the shopping and yard work, since Billy couldn’t go outside, and in return, Billy swept and mopped, and Steve was pretty sure he’d even scrubbed the toilets one day while Steve had been out at work.

Eventually, Billy started leaving his room sometimes when Steve was home, and it felt less like he was living with a really tidy ghost. He didn’t really talk, but he’d go out to the living room and watch TV with Steve sometimes while he ate dinner after work. They’d laugh at MASH reruns, get sucked into shitty late night B movies.

One night, while they were sitting on the couch, Hargrove pulled out a baggie of joints and a lighter, holding them out to Steve. Where the hell had he even gotten those? Steve was afraid to ask. “Wanna get high?” He asked, flicking the lighter.

“No smoking in the living room,” Steve said automatically and very loudly, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. Billy lowered the lighter, looking momentarily stricken.

“Sorry,” Steve followed up quickly. “It’s just that my mom would kill me if she came home, and her couch smelled like smoke. Come with me.” He motioned for Billy to follow him, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, then heading up to his bedroom.

They walked silently up to his room, Steve trying to picture if there was anything like dirty boxers or lube strewn about for Billy to see. Thankfully, he didn’t think so. He’d cleaned up pretty well the day before.

They flopped down on the bed and Billy pulled the baggie and his lighter back out. Steve slid the window open so the room wouldn’t reek as bad after they were done and accepted the joint when Billy handed it to him, handing him a beer in return.

It wasn’t long before they were completely mellowed out, both laying back, Steve laying opposite of Billy, trying to resist the urge to poke him in the head with his socked feet.

“So,” Billy asked, finally breaking the silence, “are you ready to potentially get your ass kicked by Russians again?”

Steve ran a hand through his already sleep mussed hair, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. This wasn’t something that he talked about a lot, and he was honestly surprised that Billy knew.

“Max told me,” Billy said, reading Steve’s mind. “She likes to remind me that I wasn’t the only one that went through hell that day.”

Steve took a sip of his beer, then let out a long exhale. “Not really. There’s a pretty constant ringing in my right ear, and they were worried there might be permanent brain damage. As if I’m not already enough of an idiot, now I’m brain damaged.”

Billy poked him in the leg. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Harrington. It’s not the first time I’ve heard you say that, and it’s not a good look. If you call yourself stupid, it’s basically inviting other people to call you stupid. I know you act like an idiot, but you’re not dumb.”

Huh. Billy Hargrove being nice. The world really was backwards. He didn’t know how to reply to that, so he just passed the joint back to Billy and laid back, closing his eyes, enjoying the high and the companionable silence.

***

After that night, it was like a dam had broken, and they started spending more time together. Sometimes, when Steve would come home from work, Billy would have dinner waiting for him, and they’d eat together before moving to the living room to watch a movie while they folded laundry or play boardgames from Steve’s massive collection.

Billy was great at Scrabble and Steve dominated at Yahtzee, although Billy argued that you couldn’t really win a game based so purely on luck. After a game of Monopoly that had turned into a shouting match where Steve, in one of his admittedly lower moments had flipped the board and left the room, they’d decided to retire that one for a while. They’d also gotten really into card games, although Steve balked at Billy’s suggestion that they play strip poker.

***

As soon as they’d gotten comfortable with that nightly routine, it changed again, as they hit the day before Steve had been hired at Family Video. With no job to go to, his schedule was wide open. He’d sleep in until noon unless it was a day where Billy cajoled him into working out with him.

Steve had unearthed the set of weights that had been long collecting dust in the basement, originally purchased during one of his father’s brief health nut phases. Billy made good use of them, slowly putting back on the muscle mass he’d lost during the months after Starcourt, and Steve, more to shut Billy up than anything else, lifted a lighter set.

He’d always preferred cardio, personally, but he’d learned quickly that sometimes it was better to just do what Billy asked than to hear his bitching about it, whether it was weights or the benefits of eating salad or getting eight hours of sleep. Steve hated to admit that physically, he was feeling better than he had in years.

***

As they moved back into late August and the kids were off school, they started spending more time at Steve’s as well. They were all well aware of Steve’s fear of using the pool after what had happened to Barb, but that didn’t stop the kids from showing up almost daily for a swim.

It was decided that the fenced in yard was secluded enough for Billy to come out as well, so most of afternoons were spent out there, the kids playing Marco Polo, Steve working on his tan, and Billy alternating between hanging out with Steve and hovering around the edge of the pool, sticking his legs in, still uncomfortable around the kids besides Max and El.

Sometimes everyone, including Nancy and Jonathan and Hopper and Joyce would come over, and they’d have a BBQ, the kids giving themselves stomach aches from hot dog eating contests, and everyone ending the night sucking on popsicles, lounging around on the lawn furniture, lazy and tired from too much sun.

***

Somewhere between the evenings spent out in the yard and the nights spent getting high with Billy, laying back, pressed together side by side, on Steve’s bed, talking about anything and everything between hits, Steve inexplicably found himself falling for Billy. What had caused it, Steve had no clue, but now he couldn’t get the blond out of his head.

He’d find his eyes lingering on Hargrove’s cherry red lips, or the constellation of freckles on his cheeks and shoulders, made even more noticeable by the time he spent out in the summer sun. He’d get a little swoosh in his belly every time he made Billy laugh, not just a polite laugh, but one from deep in his gut, loud and silly and genuine, like he was showing his real self to Steve a little bit more each day.

He’d walk into the kitchen, his hair still mussed from sleep, rubbing his eyes, grumbling about needing coffee right now, and Steve found himself wanting to bury his hands deep in Billy’s hair, pull him in close, and kiss the grumpy little frown off his face.

He also found Billy looking at him a lot, but it was hard to tell if he was checking Steve out, or just trying to figure out why Steve was spending seemingly all his time looking at him.

The night that almost sent Steve over the edge was one evening that was uncharacteristically cool and rainy for August. Everyone had stayed home for once, except Robin, but she’d left a couple of hours before, so it was just Billy and Steve lounging around on the couch. Billy had his feet in Steve’s lap, and they were watching Jeopardy, trying to beat each other to the answers.

When the episode was done, Billy turned to him. “Wanna go out to the hot tub? At least it’s covered, so we won’t get rained on, and these weary bones could use a soak.” In lieu of swimming in the pool, Billy had gone extra hard on the weights that morning.

Steve nodded, and in a flash, Billy was pulling down his shorts, and Jesus, he wasn’t even wearing underwear, he walked towards the patio door. Steve didn’t even know where to look.

“Hargrove!” he sputtered. “You know for a fact that I have extra swim trunks that you can use.”

Billy just waved him off, telling him to bring beer and towels. “There’s no point, Harrington. It’s only you and me, and it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

Steve took a moment to compose himself and will his dick to go down, and by the time he’d changed and grabbed the requested towels and beers, he found Billy shoulder deep in the bubbling water.

“Are you always this free?” Steve asked, his cheeks heating.

Billy shrugged. “Like I said, nothing you haven’t seen in the changerooms before.”

“I guess,” Steve said, sighing. “But this is different. It’s up close and personal.”

Billy cackled, starting to stand. “I can get a little more up close and personal if you’d like, princess.”

Steve pulled him down by the arm, already exasperated. “Sit the fuck down and drink your beer.”

Billy’s laughter rang clear in the night, and Steve closed his eyes, trying to commit the sound to memory.

***

One evening, after Dustin had demanded some one-on-one time with Steve, he’d relented, even though it was taking away from the precious time he had left with Billy. They were only a month away from July 4th at this point, and Steve wanted to spend every moment that he could. Max had requested some time with Billy though, so Steve had taken Dustin out to the diner for dinner.

After confirming that Steve would be paying, Dustin ordered a double cheeseburger, cheese fries, and a milkshake. He was pretty sure that Dustin had mentioned being lactose intolerant once, so he made a mental note not to keep him out too late. Mrs. Henderson could deal with the upset stomach that was sure to come.

Dustin wasted no time, cutting to the chase as soon as the waitress had walked away to put in their order. “So, what’s up with you and Billy spending all of your time together?”

“Dude,” Steve replied, trying to sound casual. “He literally lives down the hall from me. What am I supposed to do, ignore him?”

Dustin nodded. “Yes. Do exactly that. He’s an asshole, Steve. You know this, I know this. Your house was just supposed to be a place for him to lie low, but every time I try to hang out with you lately, you’re too busy because you’re hanging out with him.”

“Dustin, my man,” Steve replied, patting his shoulder. “Someday, you’re going to learn about a little something called empathy. Have you ever thought that maybe Billy’s a scared kid, just like we are? Everyone handles their emotions differently, and the sooner you learn that the better.”

Dustin waved him off. “Nah, I think he’s just a jackass, and you’re just being brainwashed.”

By then, the food was arriving. “How about we just agree to disagree?” he asked, holding up his own milkshake. Dustin clinked his against Steve’s, and Billy seemingly forgotten for the time being, Dustin launched into a story about his latest physics experiment.

***

When Steve got home, Max’s bike was no longer leaning against the garage and her shoes weren’t inside the door, so Steve assumes she headed home already.

He didn’t see Billy in the living room or kitchen, and he wasn’t out on the back deck having a smoke, so he called up the stairs.

“Billy?”

“Up here, princess!” Billy replied. “Bring beer!”

Steve rolled his eyes, but did as he was asked, grabbing two cold bottles from the fridge before heading up the stairs. When he got to his room, he found Billy laying on his bed, holding up the December 1985 issue of Playboy. Steve could feel his face immediately start to heat.

“Classy, Harrington,” he laughed, waving the magazine.

Steve was mortified. Of course, that had to be out, tucked under the corner of Steve’s pillow for the other boy to find. It wasn’t even something he usually bought himself, and this issue had been a gag Christmas present from Robin, handed to him with an assortment of candy and the newest Tears for Fears tape when they’d exchanged gifts behind the counter of Family Video during their closing shift on Christmas Eve.

She’d told him that she wanted to cheer him up during his dry spell, and Steve had tried to hand it right back, muttering about Robin’s dry spell, but she’d countered that it couldn’t really count as a dry spell if she’d never seen any action before. He had to concede that she was right, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying to roll it up and drop it in her backpack when they’d closed for the night. She’d caught him and forced him to take it home, and they’d spent the ensuing months sneaking it back and forth.

He thought he’d finally won when he’d slipped it under a pile of records in Robin’s bedroom when he’d been over at her house two days before, but she’d clearly found it and returned it to him.

He tried to snatch it out of Billy’s hands, but Hargrove wasn’t having it. He jumped off the bed, running out into the hallway. “Let’s see who Stevie’s favourite is. Any pages stuck together? I see Carol Ficatier’s picture got some loving!”

Fucking Robin. One night, in a fit of giggles, she’d coated her lips in Steve’s mom’s bright red lipstick and pressed a kiss to the model’s photo.

Even though Steve knew that Billy knew it wasn’t him that had done it, it didn’t stop him from chasing Billy out into the hall. But even though Steve was taller by about an inch, Hargrove managed to hold it up out of Steve’s reach. He dashed back into Steve’s room and Steve got in the door just in time to see Billy hop up on the bed and start jumping, his head thrown back in laughter.

Steve jumped up on the bed with him, but Billy bounced away from him, eventually losing his balance and flopping down on the mattress.

Steve lost his balance too and came crashing down on top of Billy. Their faces were inches apart, so close they could kiss.

Billy looked down at Steve’s lips, and he was sure the blond was going to take leap, but instead, he leaned back and asked, “Is that what you’re into?”

Steve blinked, confused. “What am I into?”

Billy waved the magazine. “Brunettes. Is that your type? Pretty little brunettes?”

“No,” Steve replied, not breaking eye contact with Billy as he shook his head. “I’m more into blondes. Stocky, freckled, and the more bite the better.”

Before Steve could even process what he’d just said, Billy’s lips were on his, and there was a hand fisted in his hair.

Steve’s brain went offline for a minute before he snapped back into it, cupping a hand on Billy’s jaw, rubbing a thumb over the prickly stubble he found there. Holy shit, he was kissing Billy Hargrove.

Every nerve felt electrified, and his stomach was alight with butterflies. They rolled around on the bed, taking turns on top, hands touching every bit of skin that they could reach, kissing until they were breathless, and needed to take a break.

“Fuck,” Steve breathed, dropping his forehead against Billy’s. “That just happened.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, smirking. “It did. And you’re an even better kisser than I imagined you would be, Harrington.”

“Imagined?” Steve pulled back, so he could look Billy in the eye. “How long have you been picturing kissing me, Hargrove?”

Billy’s already flushed cheeks coloured even more. “Since the first time I saw you. Spent the whole school year trying to work up the nerve to do something about it, and then that fucking piece of shit turned my life upside down. Literally.”

Steve groaned at his last line, whacking him lightly in the arm. “You really liked me that whole time? You didn’t do a very good job of showing it.”

“Ever heard of pulling pigtails? I had no clue how to show you I liked you, so I just teased the fuck out of you. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t my best move. Can we forget about that and just go back to the kissing thing?” he asked, burying his face in Steve’s neck.

Steve nudged him up so their lips could meet. “Definitely.”

***

It seemed that now that he and Billy had gotten a taste of each other, they couldn’t get enough. Any minute they had alone together was spent with either their lips locked or their bodies touching in some other way. If Billy was making dinner, Steve was pressed up against his back, chin perched on his shoulder, watching as he chopped and stirred and sauteed, and Billy’s favourite place to watch TV was in Steve’s lap. It felt so good to be touched, just for the sake of it. Steve would melt into Billy’s arms, relaxing and feeling at home.

Billy had quickly moved from the spare room to Steve’s bed, and they slept soundly, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Before bed, they’d lay in the dark, spilling their deepest secrets, and their hopes and fears, knowing that everything they said within the confines of their little two-person world would be kept between them.

One night, Billy brought up the future, dancing around, as always, the fact that if the Mindflayer had its way, Billy, and all of them, might not have a future after July 4th 2.0. It was easier that way, to pretend that they weren’t careening quick into the end of their short time together. It was less than two weeks now, and Steve wasn’t going to waste a second.

Billy told him about his big plans to get out of here and head back to California, where he’d go to business school, then open his own garage. He was going to get a little house by the ocean and take back up surfing, and never set foot in the Midwest cold again.

“What about you, Harrington?” he asked. Steve was holding him in his arms, breathing in the scent of his soap and shampoo and the underlying Billy smell, but the blond twisted out of his grasp so he could meet Steve’s eyes in the dark.

Steve shrugged. “I’ll probably just be here forever, shuffling papers at my dad’s office until he croaks, and I take over the company.”

“Wow, that’s fucking bleak, Harrington. You ever thought about moving out to the west coast?” Billy asked.

Immediately, Steve pictured Billy teaching him to surf, their hands intertwined as they walked along the beach at sunset. It sounded too good to be true. He shook his head. “I’ve never been further west than Iowa once, for a family wedding. My life is pretty much mapped out already, courtesy of my father.”

“Well,” Billy replied, kissing Steve. “If you ever need a change, you’ll have at least one friend out there.”

Steve pulled Billy into his arms, and he fell asleep like that, picturing a lifetime of golden sunsets.

***

Just a few days before the 4th of July, Hopper showed up at Steve’s house with El in tow, asking to speak with Billy. They’d been in the kitchen making breakfast, and Billy was only wearing boxers. Steve heard him thumping up the stairs to his room so he could pull on clothes. He reappeared shortly, and Steve ushered everyone into the living room.

“It wants you,” El said plainly, looking at Billy. “I’ve been trying to see what it wants, but the connection’s been weak. It was stronger today. Because we’re close. We were right. It wants you. You weren’t supposed to die on the 4th of July. It wants to keep you alive and keep you as a host.”

Steve felt his stomach drop. It was the 7th of July. They only had a few more days left with Billy. If they were heading back to the 4th, they had three days, and if they were heading back to June 29th, the day Billy had been possessed, they had eight. He tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it came out more like a shudder. His only goal at this point was to not cry.

He turned to Billy, who’d turned ashen white. “I just need a minute,” he said, standing up and walked through the kitchen, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter off the counter. Steve could still see him, but his back was turned. He started to pace as he puffed on his cigarette. Steve wanted to comfort him but respected his need for privacy. At least it gave him a few minutes to think.

A conversation that he’d had with Billy a few days before came to mind. They’d been laying in bed, talking about how it seemed like the Mindflayer liked to prey on people who it felt were emotionally weak and alone, and Billy had been the perfect target when the Mindflayer had taken up residence inside him. He’d felt like he didn’t have any real connections in Hawkins, and his father had been particularly cruel that night.

Billy and Neil had fought over something Billy couldn’t even remember anymore. What he did remember was finally snapping and telling Neil that he was going to drive back to California on his own. Neil had slapped him and told him to go for it, but to remember that there was nothing left in California for Billy, only his mother who didn’t love him enough to stay.

Tears streaming down his face, Billy had driven through the dark, just trying to get out. That’s when the Mindflayer had found him, preying on his broken heart and mind.

“Did El ever tell you how she brought me back to myself that day?”

Steve shook his head. “No, she told us that it wasn’t our business.”

“It was my mom. When I was little, she used to take me surfing at this beach near our house. It was our special time, just the two of us. She’d let me talk and talk as we walked on the beach, and she’d tell me how good I was at surfing. I fucking sucked back then, but she’d always tell me how great I was anyway. I think those are my happiest memories.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Billy tighter, trying to hold back tears. “She sounds like she was pretty great.”

Yeah,” Billy replied, snuggling back as close as he could get, his back pressed right up to Steve’s chest. “She was.”

Maybe, he thought now, if they worked together, through El, to help Billy remember as many good memories as possible, they could get him out of the Mindflayer’s hold and destroy it once and for all.

He turned to Hop. “We need to get everyone here. Now.”

***

When he’d first told Billy, while El and Hop went to pick up some of the others, the blond had told him he didn’t think it would work. “There’s you and Max, but who the fuck else has happy memories of me, Harrington?”

Steve gave him an unimpressed look. “How about El, when you saved her life? When you helped Lucas with basketball? When you helped Will with his D&D campaign? Not everything needs to be big and significant. Everyday life is great too. Everyone likes you, and everyone wants to see you survive. Trust me.”

Billy had rolled his eyes and called Steve a corny motherfucker, but promised he’d at least consider the plan.

A half hour later, everyone was gathered in Steve’s living room, and he was explaining the plan to them.

“Come on, Steve, really?” Mike retorted. “We’re going to save Billy with the power of friendship? What is this, My Little Pony?”

Steve started to tell him that he was right, it was a dumb idea, but Billy piped up first. “You know, kid Wheeler? I think Steve’s plan is great. We’re going with it.”

He looked over at Billy, arms crossed, staring down Mike, so confidently defending Steve, and immediately felt choked up. God, Steve fucking hoped his plan worked. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if it didn’t.

***

They tried to make the best of the time they knew for sure they had left with Billy. When everyone else left that day, Max stayed, and she and Billy went out to the backyard. Steve wanted to give them their privacy, so he stayed inside wondering what they were talking about out there. When Steve drove Max home, she had tears in her eyes, but she told him she was coming back the next morning, so it must have been ok.

When he got home, he found Billy sitting on the couch in silence, and Steve sat beside him, pulling Billy into his arms. The blond didn’t say anything, just letting himself be held, but when he eventually pulled away, his shirt was wet, and Billy’s eyes were glistening.

“Don’t fucking talk about it,” Billy said, pulling a lighter and pack of cigarettes from his pocket and heading out to the yard.

Steve let him go, and eventually, Billy made his way back inside, asking Steve if he wanted spaghetti for dinner. They ate in front of the tv, watching their usual episode of Jeopardy, both trying their hardest to pretend this was a normal night, even when it was anything but.

***

The next day followed the same pattern, Max coming over and spending the day with Billy before requesting a ride home from Steve again. She took his hand as they turned out of the driveway onto the street.

“I know I shouldn’t say this, but in case Billy hasn’t told you, and chickens out and never tells you, you should know that he loves you. A lot.”

“He hasn’t, but I love him too. A lot.” He tried his best to smile at her, but it came out watery and shaky. He hadn’t even said to himself that he loved Billy, but somehow, saying it now, he knew it was true. He loved Billy Hargrove, and he didn’t know what he’d do without him.

“Good,” she replied, offering a shaky smile of her own. “He deserves that. You both do.”

He let her out around the corner from her house and headed back to spend another night with Billy.

***

“It’s not fucking fair,” Billy said, his eyes filled with tears, that night as they laid in bed, passing a joint back and forth. “I really thought when I woke up that day in the woods that that was my second chance at life. I was ready to grow some balls, tell you how I felt, grab you, and get the hell out of here. I’ve had enough of this. Why does it fucking have to be me?”

This was the first time he’d seen Billy let out his feelings about what was about to happen, and he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. He pulled Billy into his arms and rocked him as he cried, sobs wracking his body, trying to hide his own silent tears. “It’s not fair, Billy. It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.”

He let Billy cry it out, until his sobs became soft sniffles, and he started to yawn. He laid Billy down on the bed and got in behind him, stroking his hair until his breathing evened out and he fell asleep in Steve’s arms.

***

The next day was, just as Steve expected, a somber affair. It was barely 8am when Max showed up at the door, and Steve made Billy’s favourite, French toast, and bacon for breakfast. The three of them ate in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

When they were done, Billy and Max headed outside to lay in the sun and talk, and Steve did the dishes, then went up to his room to pull out his old Scoops Ahoy! uniform. Tomorrow, yesterday, whatever it was, would be his last day of being employed at Scoops, and he and Robin had decided that wearing their work uniforms would be the easiest way for them to go in unattended.

Once he’d collected all the pieces, he hung it back up, out of the way, so Billy wouldn’t need to see it. He sat around after, trying to watch a movie, then read a magazine, but he was a ball of nervous energy. Eventually, he just took to pacing the living room.

At 4pm, Billy and Max said a teary goodbye, and Steve took her home, with a reminder for her to be ready for Joyce to pick her up at 9am.

***

When he’d asked Billy what he wanted to do that evening, he’d asked Steve if they could just have a normal evening like usual, so that’s what they did. They ordered a pizza and watched Jeopardy, and then played Monopoly, enjoying the bickering it caused for once.

They’d just flipped the TV over to a low budget cable movie when Billy crawled out of Steve’s arms and into his lap. He took Steve’s face in his hands, cradling it almost reverently, and kissed him deeply. Steve tangled his hands in Billy’s hair, tugging gently, and they were gasping for air by the time they pulled away to take a breath.

Billy pulled his shirt off, then Steve’s, and pressed up against him, chest to chest. Billy was hot, as usual full of molten heat, and he was flushed right down to his pecs. He took Steve’s hand and placed it on the bulge in his shorts.

He turned, nibbling on Steve’s ear before whispering in it. “I want you to fuck me, Harrington.”

Steve placed his hands on Billy’s shoulders, pulling him back so he could see his face.

“Billy, are you sure?”

Over the past month, they’d done pretty well everything else, from quick, awkward hand jobs, Steve almost coming the moment he wrapped his hand around Billy’s cock for the first time, to just last week, when Billy had sunk to his knees right in front of this couch and taken Steve into his mouth, touching and stroking, licking and sucking, until Steve had seen stars, his head thrown back, cum dribbling from the corner of Billy’s mouth.

He'd returned the favour, and afterwards, they’d cuddled, sweaty and sated, and Steve felt like that was as good as life would get. The fact that Billy was trusting him with this now meant everything to him, but he didn’t want to do it just so Billy could check it off a list of things he thought he should be doing.

“Yes,” Billy replied. “More than anything. I want this. I want you.”

Steve nodded. “Ok then, let’s go.”

He ushered Billy into his room and undressed him, pulling off his shorts and briefs slowly, allowing himself to take time to touch every part of Billy. Every freckle and mole and divot and crease committed to memory. His scent and his smile, the way that one curl always fell in front of his eyes. His laugh, and the way it felt to have the blonde’s strong arms wrapped around him. He never wanted to forget.

After stripping off his own clothes, he grabbed lube and a condom and followed Billy onto the bed. He laid the other boy on his back, grabbing a pillow and sliding it under his hips. He prepped him gently, adding one finger at a time until Billy was whining and begging Steve to just get inside already.

Steve kissed him once, twice, then rolled the condom on. He slid inside Billy slowly, an inch at a time, until he was fully engulfed in the blonde’s tight heat. Billy wrapped his legs around Steve's hips, and dug his nails into Steve's shoulders, holding on tight. They moved together, Steve stroking Billy in time to his thrusts, whispering soft praises in his ear until he was close, and it became mostly incoherent babbling.

They both came with tears in their eyes, shaking and panting, covered in a sheen of sweat. That didn’t stop them from entangling their limbs, trying to get as close as they physically could.

“I love you, Steve.” Billy said quietly, into the space where Steve’s shoulder met his neck.

“I know, Billy,” Steve replied, stroking the other boy’s sweaty curls. “I love you too. I’ll always love you.”

***

They didn’t get much sleep that night, instead laying awake in each other’s arms, and before they knew it, it was 8am and Steve’s alarm was going off. They dressed silently, then drove to the mall in Steve’s car, hands clutched together over the centre console.

The previous battle of Starcourt had been in the evening, but they had no clue what to expect, so they wanted to get there early. They were the first to arrive, so they sat and waited, taking in the massive structure of the mall that had the day before only been rubble.

Steve squeezed the other boy’s hand, turning to him. “You know I’ll always love you, right, Billy? No matter what happens?”

Billy nodded. “I know. Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but I know.” Steve could hear the tears choking his voice, and couldn’t bear to look at him, or he knew he’d start crying too.

***

Before long, the other’s arrived, and they made their way into the mall in groups, to avoid drawing attention to themselves.

Steve, Max, El, and Billy were the last to enter, but they found nothing out of the ordinary. The mall was bustling with shoppers, and when he turned to look at Scoops Ahoy!, he found his co-worker, Alan, opening up the shop for the day. This wasn’t it. It wasn’t the 4th that they were waiting for at all. Maybe they would have a chance to save the lives of everyone who’s lives were taken by the Mindflayer in the week between the 29th and 4th.

A little anti-climactically, they dispersed, agreeing to go about their days as normal until the 29th, unless something suspicious arose.

Billy and Steve went home, with Max in tow to spend more time together. The mood seemed lighter than it had in days, all three of them silently agreeing that if they’d said goodbye to Billy already, they should treat this time like the bonus that it was.

Billy and Max swam, and they ate junk food and stayed up late, Max sleeping over under the guise of staying at El’s house.

***

 On the evening of the 29th, they drove to meet everyone on the backroad where Billy had originally collided with the Mindflayer. Steve could sense a change in Billy almost immediately. His posture became harder, more rigid, and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. It made the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stand up.

“It’s here,” El whispered to Max and Steve. “It’s time.”

Steve physically ached with the desire to wrap Billy in his arms and hold him tight, but he knew he needed to walk away and just hope that their plan worked. They left Billy and assumed their positions in the ditches.

There was a loud rumbling, then a bang that sounded like a clap of thunder. The streetlights flickered before going out, then, with an ear-splitting cry, the Mindflayer appeared before Billy where he stood in the middle of the road. Steve looked over at Max, whose eyes were wide, horrified. It was time to put the plan into action, so Billy could walk away uninjured, with the Mindflayer banished from his mind and Hawkins free of its wrath.

On Steve’s cue through the walkie talkies, everyone started to conjure up their happiest memory of Billy, trying to get across to him, through El, how much he was loved and cared for. She ran to him and held him, even as he struggled in her grasp, the Mindflayer trying to break him free.

Steve called to mind all the nights he’d spent together with Billy, laughing and joking and spilling their secrets to each other. He pictured wrapping his arms around the other boy, holding him close and telling him how amazing he was, kissing him silly and telling him that he loved him, that he always would.

He just hoped that the Mindflayer wasn’t imbedded too deeply into Billy’s brain for their thoughts to get through to him. At first, there was nothing, just the roaring of the Mindflayer, weaving its way around light posts and cars to get to Billy. But then, slowly, there was a change. Billy started to struggle less, and the grey veins started to recede.

Billy was shouting at El to let him go, but it was going from ear-splitting to a dull roar. He was slumping over, like the fight was draining out of him. The Mindflayer’s tentacles started to draw back, and it was shrinking. Steve looked around at everyone deep in thought and smiled. It was working.

Before their eyes, the Mindflayer vanished. They could only hope they would never see it again, but at least for right now, Billy was alive and ok, and so were all the other residents of Hawkins.

Eventually, Billy was simply whimpering, and his legs gave out. He fell to the ground, bringing El with him. “It’s ok, Billy,” she said over and over, smiling softly at him, stroking his hair.

Steve sighed in relief. It was going to be alright.

He wanted to run to Billy, but he stood back, letting Max go to him instead first.

She punched Billy in the arm and tried to discreetly wipe a tear from her eye. “You scared the shit out of me, Billy. I’m so glad you’re ok. I really thought it had you this time.”

Billy laughed, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, shitbird.”

Eventually, Max pulled away and looked at Steve, motioning for him to come over.

Steve’s heart started to beat wildly, still unable to believe that Billy was truly ok, even as he witnessed him sitting there with his own two eyes.

“Harrington,” Billy greeted him, grinning. “Glad to see me?”

“Fucking understatement of the century,” Steve replied, pulling Billy into his arms. "I'm never letting you go again. You live in these arms now." Billy nodded, laughing. Steve kissed the other boy until Dustin told them they were being gross and to get a room.

“Gladly,” Steve laughed, pulling Billy to his car. Someone else could deal with the aftermath of the crumbling mall. They’d had enough for one day.

***

They spent the rest of the day in bed, not moving except to eat. They were tired and Billy was sore, and they were both unwilling to let the other out of their sight.

***

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and Steve grinned to himself when he looked outside and realized there was snow falling in heavy drifts past his bedroom window. He turned on the radio just in time to hear the DJ say “Good morning and happy new years, Hawkins! Looks like it’s going to be a snowy one today! Stay home and enjoy the time with your loved ones if you can!”

That’s exactly what Steve planned on doing. He shook Billy awake, urging him to look outside. “We’ve done it. We’ve finally done it.”

Billy’s answering grin was brighter than the sun.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove holiday exchange 2022 #harringrove holiday #harringrove holiday exchange #chrisbitchtree writes

[mayumiiyuu]

HI 😊

I am back again to put in a song request fic thingy. And I saw that you mentioned that you feel like you've been neglecting the ever so lovely Robin Buckley, I have a fic idea for her 💞

Ok, so the song is Sidelines by Phoebe Bridgers. Specifically the lyric, 'then you came into my life, gave me something to lose.'

And it's just so angsty and they're in love and the whole mess of the lake gate upside down thing happens and they think they're gonna die 😭 but then they get out and they have a really emotional moment in the kitchen of Eddie's trailer

I hope this made sense lmao

r. buckley || sidelines

A/N: anon, I love u and that amazing brain of urs but good god how do you expect me to write something inspired by a phoebe bridgers song without collapsing to the floor and crying?????? also i tried like,, not to make it too angsty bc im not trying to manifest any character deaths :'D

Robin x wlw!Reader

tw: slight mentions of throwing up, mentions of death (nothing too intense tho), slight angst to comfort, spoilers for stranger things s4 (and season 1, 2, & 3,, but tbh why are u reading this if u haven’t seen any of them?)

...

You had never been afraid of death.

After all, you had stared death in the face and simply flipped the grim reaper your middle finger as you survived time and time again along with Steve, Dustin, and the others. You were right there with them from the very beginning, from the day Will Byers had gone missing, you were the only person who gave Joyce the benefit of the doubt when she revealed to you the lights and the letters she had painted on the wall, telling you that Will was somehow communicating to her. Then came the demogorgons in all their unholy wrath, that you fought off fiercely; you remembered the way your body had reacted before your brain did, soaking a machete with gasoline before setting it on fire to ward off the borderline demonic creature.

You were there for the demodogs, the dark dust cloud that had somehow possessed Will, fighting yet another hoard of monsters while simultaneously keeping a watchful eye over the kids, and the new addition to your team: Max. You were there when Billy showed up, brass knuckles you had stolen from your father decorating your fingers as you threw him a punch to the gut, causing him to keel over in time for Max to inject him, knocking him out.

You had begun working at a JCPenny when Starcourt opened, using your job to your advantage as you listened to people’s conversations while you organized and laid out clothes, running to Scoops Ahoy to feed Steve and Dustin any intel.

That was when you met Robin, Robin Buckley, with her short strawberry blonde hair, pretty blue eyes that you swear you could get lost in; like lying on your back as you floated in the ocean, relaxing at the sound of calming waves. The way she often rambled made you smile, the simple way in which she just talked with that raspy, upbeat voice of hers sent your heart aflutter, she was too cute.

In those initial days of knowing her, giggling at her sarcastic, snarky jokes that always seemed to be directed at Steve and his inability to get any action, pacing around the back room of the ice cream shop during your lunch break as the two of listened to the Russian recording in an attempt to decode it, you couldn’t help the growing affection you had for her.

What started out as a soft spot for her turned into fierce protectiveness as the three of you were strapped to chairs by Russian military. You remembered how you screamed at them when Robin and you were taken to a separate room away from Steve, how you kicked and strained at your restraints whenever they had attempted to do something to her.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch her!” You yelled so intensely that your throat felt rough afterwards, momentarily stunning the Russian officer.

Once the three of you had escaped, you sprinted to the bathroom first, throwing up your insides. As you heard Robin barf, despite your own nausea, you needed to ensure she was okay, so you stood up and walked over to the stall she was in, you knelt beside her on the floor, held her hair up as she vomited, and rubbed her back soothingly.

The three of you had sat on the floor, after the heart to heart the three of you had when you had been captured, another one was set to ensue as Robin asked you and Steve if you had ever been in love before. You remember Steve’s answer, obviously: his ever lasting love for Nancy Wheeler. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but fidget with your clothing, shrugging at your words: “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before, but uh, there’s this girl—“

Robin’s eyes widened at your words, while Steve had remained neutral, he was the first person you had come out to, after all, he was your best friend, and he was there for you as your cried about your fear of being unable to find love in the conservative town of Hawkins.

That was when it was Robin’s turn to speak. You couldn’t help the feeling as your heart sank when you had discovered she had a crush of Tammy Thompson. You spirits were immediately uplifted as Steve joked about her, calling her a muppet.

Soon, the battle of Starcourt had ensued. You looked on in horror as Billy had sacrificed himself, turning your gaze away at the terrifying scene before you.

And for while, you were at peace, despite the nightmares and images from the past haunting your mind at night, it all faded away whenever you hung out with Steve and Robin. For once, the three of you could act like normal teenagers, using the jobs you guys had at Family Video to rent out the best movies to watch at either of your houses, curling up next to Robin as you feigned fear whenever you watched a horror movie. You were most definitely not a scaredy cat, of all the things you had to endure the past three years? Bitch, please. But you found any excuse you could just to be next to her.

In spite of your feelings for her, you couldn't help but keep it all in, too afraid to ruin the wonderful friendship you had with her. So you stood on the sidelines as you watched her snicker with Vicki during the basketball game, swallowing the lump in your throat when you saw her smile for someone else.

Now, things happened as they always did: they took a turn for the worst, as news upon students’ murders overtook the once quiet town of Hawkins. Yet another mystery for you all to solve as you had made it your mission to prove Eddie Munson’s innocence. Amid curses from an evil, grotesque being called Vecna, you had somehow managed to go through it without a hint of fear.

Until you had managed to find yourself in the Upside Down along with Steve, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin.

As soon as Robin jumped off the boat, you dove straight right in after her.

While you fought the demobats, you swung your weapon just in time before it had attacked Robin. In that moment, for the first time in your life, you had felt fear crawl up your spine. That was when your head filled with countless thoughts, anxious and worried about what would happen to the five of you, to Robin, in a place that was neither here nor there, a place that only feigned familiarity to mimic a darker, more dangerous version of Hawkins.

As the group traversed through the darkness, you couldn’t help but lace your arm through Robin’s, a gesture that would ensure her safety with her next to you.

Robin had noticed this, glancing in your direction with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just—just stay next to me, okay?” You say, holding her closer.

As your thoughts swarmed your head, one thought stuck out in particular: what if Robin would be Vecna’s next victim?

You pushed the thought away, shoved it to the very recesses if your mind, but for some reason it always managed to make its way back to the front Your eyebrows furrowed as you chewed on your lower lip, running your mind through what Robin’s favorite songs were, god forbid it would ever come to that. Through any and all danger that came your way, you vowed to yourself that you’d be the one bleeding on the ground before anyone or anything so much as harmed Robin. You would be there for her, protect her as much as you could, even if it was the last thing you would ever do.

Another quake has the five of you struggling to stand, the force of the shockwave caused Robin hurtling towards the ground—curse her inept coordination—but you moved just in time, wrapping your arms around her head, twisting yourself around so that she fell atop you and not the hard ground below you.

“(y/n), thanks, but um, you—you can let go now.” She had stuttered, only for you to realize you had been holding her longer than you should have, even after the tremors had ceased.

“Sorry.” You mumble as you release her. She held her hand out towards you, helping you up.

Her fingers interlace with yours, and she doesn’t ever let go even when the group continues their way towards Nancy’s house.

You weren’t scared of death. You weren’t scared of anything.

But as you glanced around the hellish world the five of you were stuck in, eye peeled for any impending danger as red lightning flashed through the sky, with Robin squeezing your hand whenever she heard even the faintest noise that could signal trouble, you felt adrenaline course through your veins.

Now you had found out your one and only fear: losing her.

After you had made contact with the others on the other side, the five of you biked towards Eddie’s trailer.

You can’t help the grin on your face, relief washing over you as the makeshift rope Dustin and the others had created drops down into the world you were trapped in.

You gestured for Robin to go first, ensuring that she would be safe, even in what seemed to be the last leg of your journey. You watched her fall on the mattress, exhaling in solace that she was finally out of this hellhole.

It was your turn to heave yourself up, and as soon as you reached the other side, landing on Eddie’s mattresses, you got up and made your way towards Robin who was by the kitchen sink, staring blankly at the wall.

Anxiety takes over your senses, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with panic. “Robin? Robin!”

She snaps out of her thoughts as you called out her name. Another wave of relief hits you as you run into her, enveloping her in your arms.

“Woah, (nickname), you alright?”

“Don’t scare me like that.” You mumble against her shoulder, tears brimming your eyes as all your anxieties make their way up the surface.

“Hey, I’m okay, see? I’m fine, it’s okay.” She says comfortingly, stroking your back to soothe you.

You pull away from her, but your arms never unwrap themselves from her waist.

She brushes your hair from your forehead, furrowing her eyebrows with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “It’s just—with everything that’s happening, I’m, I’m just,” you stammer, taking in a deep breath to prevent your tears from spilling. “I’m scared, Robin. I don’t want to lose you.”

Robin’s eyes soften at your words and cradles your head so your face is tucked into where her neck and shoulder meet.

“It’s, it’s scary, I know, this isn’t like anything we’ve ever seen before. But hey, aren’t you the badass gal who fought a demogorgon with basically a flaming sword? The same person who tore through the Mind Flayer’s flesh, I mean, you literally just took down three demobats on your own, you’ve got this.”

You shake your head again, holding her closer to you.

“It’s different now, Robin.” You mumble against her skin, taking in her scent, memorizing it, in case of the worst case scenario.

“How is it different?” She mutters, smoothening out your hair.

You pull away slightly, a single tear makings it’s way past your cheek.

“I have so much more to lose now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

You sigh, through everything that was happening, it was not or never.

“I have you, now, Robin. And I never want to lose you.”

At your admission, Robin’s eyes widen slightly before going back to their original shape. Throwing all inhibitions away, she leans her forehead on yours, wiping your tears away with her thumbs.

“You’re not going to lose me, I promise.”

“And I’ll make sure of it,” you say with conviction before swallowing. “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Her eyes fill with sadness as she takes your hand in hers.

“Don’t say that, (y/n), we’ll be fine, we always end up fine.”

“But this isn’t like those last times, the odds are stacked against us and if we have to face those odds I am more than willing to die for you—“

“Screw the odds!” Robin exclaims. “I’m not losing you, either. Never. So please, stop thinking like that, it hurts me when you do.” Her voice shakes, cracks, as she utters out those words.

You lick your lips, nodding silently, you would never want to hurt her.

As you stare into her blue eyes that you swear you could get lost in each time you looked, she closed the gap between the two of you, placing her lips softly on yours, and you return the gesture.

In that moment, your mind finally quiets, your worries cease. In that single moment there is quiet amongst the chaos, there is light in the darkness, because Mindflayer or Vecna be damned if they ever came between the two of you.

As her lips gently move against yours, there you two are, just two teenagers holding each other lovingly, illuminated by the kitchen light. Not fighting for your lives, not risking it all for the greater good, just you and Robin.

Your Robin.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley angst #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #wlw!reader #wlw

[strangebrainrot]

How does Billy not already have breathing problems? Like from living with Neil and then when he got flayed, he literally got dragged down a whole ass flight of metal stairs.

He stands up pretty straight, so I'm not too concerned with initial back problems, but if he turned onto his back, that could have definitely fucked him up along with the two separate car crashes he went through that week

#just 6 am thought #im going back to bed #fuck this shit #its my day off #im so tired #but yeah #all that with the addition of what happened inside starcourt #i just thought of it #and i cant unthink it #billy hargrove #j rambling

[hargrove-mayfields]

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 1/13 read here on ao3!

my piece for @harringrovebigbang!

Art and moodboard from my amazing team, @monochromegee and @shewritesdirty respectively, to come soon!

~~~~

Six months. Six months and twelve days.

That’s how long Billy has been in the hospital. In a coma. His health rapidly deteriorating.

After one month it was required he be put on a ventilator. Two and his wounds started getting infected. By month three, the hospital asked that a representative be chosen for him, just in case he didn’t pull through.

Neil Hargrove refused. Barked into the receiver something along the lines of, “What do I care if the boy wanted to go and get himself killed?” It was entirely defensive, his voice cracking as he finished his sentence, but the hospital still never contacted him again, not for updates or bills or anything. His wife was far too busy taking care of one grieving child and a lazy husband already to worry about an additional burden.

All of Billy’s extended family was still in California, had written him off years before they’d even left home for Indiana anyways. The moment his mother walked out the door, nobody else wanted him either, so they were off the table too.

The town of Hawkins had been turned inside out by the deaths of more than thirty community members, some of which were still being reported as missing so many months later. Nobody had the time, or in many cases the heart, to take care of the lone survivor.

That left only one person. The one who’d been taking care of him even before he’d fallen into a coma. The one who’d understood him better than anyone else, who’d given him a chance, who’d loved him more than anything.

Steve gets a call from the hospital, the way he is usually woken up these days. Every other morning, as soon as visitation opens, a nurse calls him for a quick update. The duties of a representative for someone unconscious, for his Billy in a coma.

He’s beyond exhausted, dragging himself to and from Hawkins General day in and day out, sometimes bringing Max or a few of the other kids along with him. Mostly because every day is the same thing, walking through the halls, facing the polite smiles from nurses who deal with this on the daily, don’t understand the way it feels to see the one you love on that bed.

If he does hear anything new, it’s usually not good news. He knows Billy is getting worse, but still he sits in that room for countless hours, watching and waiting for the moment he’s struck with a miracle, and he comes back to him.

The hospital is not quite as patient though, and since about month four of Billy’s hospital stay, they’d been encouraging Steve to consider his wards right to die. After so much time had passed by without signs of improvement, the nurses had started hesitating in the doorway when he was around, and offering kind little suggestions that were supposed to push him towards the decision to let Billy go.

Things like, “It’s not really him anymore, honey.” and, “He’s getting worse by the minute, poor thing.”, and Steve’s favorite, the one that made him leave the hospital in tears, “If he wanted to wake up, he would have done it by now.”

But no matter how true what they were saying may have been, Steve really did not want to hear it. The only reason the thought of letting Billy go had ever crossed the minds of doctors and nurses was because of what was on the news, all these up and coming stories about hospital ethics committees that were popping up all over the country recently.

They were being selfish, willing to let Billy die just because they were scared they wouldn’t be able to stand the heat that would come from keeping an eighteen year old boy on life support for as long as they had. Whether or not they actually thought they could save him was a question for another day.

So they would mail Steve countless papers and claims and pamphlets to try to reason with him, to persuade him that the best thing to do was to kill Billy because they didn’t want to deal with him anymore. It made him sick to his stomach, to think that people who were supposedly trained to help people were so hellbent on giving up on a patient.

He wonders sometimes, if they wouldn’t be so hasty to pull the plug had he been an easier case. If his father was more supportive and his biological mother present, or if the government hadn’t worked so hard to cover up the origin of his injuries. Maybe even if his representative was a nice young woman instead.

But there’s nothing he can do about it, so he just crumples the papers and ignores their premature condolences, and goes to visit Billy at every moment he can.

The drive to the hospital that particular morning feels like it takes a whole day instead of the 20 minutes the route actually is, Steve feeling like he’s suspended in time. It doesn’t seem real, taking the stairs up to the second floor, elevators were a no go after the free fall he took at Starcourt, and taking a visitor sticker and a bunch of papers from the woman at the reception desk.

He’s walked this route more times than he can count, but this time he can feel that something is wrong, different. On the top of the very first sheet the desk lady hands him, in bold black letters, are the printed words “Right-to-Die” and Steve already knows what is coming.

The woman gives him a half sympathetic look and reads off her scripted spiel. “The Hargrove boy has been unresponsive for six months now, with no signs of improvement in his condition. The recently instituted hospital ethics board wants you to seriously consider the contents of these forms.”

The words are so hollow, the look on her face mostly bored. Steve guesses this same speech was probably given to a thousand other people who’d come through this hospital, and it makes him feel nauseated just listening to it, her less than genuine pity as she reads off her clipboard, making it seem like she doesn’t even care what she is asking of him.

“It’s of course among your rights as representative to say no, but we want to remind you that he has no quality of life being artificially kept alive, and it might be best to let him go.”

“No, they told me he couldn’t feel anything. He’s not suffering.” Steve insists, and as much as he believes that he is right, the confidence in his voice is false. This was something he’d been thinking about every day for the last half a year. “You’ve kept him alive this long, right? That’s got to mean something.”

“Still, this is about him. We just want you to think about if keeping him alive is the right thing to do anymore when we can’t be sure what he’s going through. When he isn’t himself.”

Of course this was something he’d considered in his own mind, six months is a long time, and it was inevitable that a few times on his worst days, he’d have to think about pulling the plug. It was just so different hearing this nurse who didn’t know Billy insisting on it, it was just so impersonal, and it made him think about the hospital's greed, and how they probably just wanted to save money on ventilators and open up another bed.

Without saying another word to her, Steve walks away without the clipboard of papers, and off to room B-216. Of course he'd known this was coming. They’d been trying to drop hints since the moment Billy stopped being able to breathe on his own, but he’d been in denial. As long as Billy's heart was still beating, Steve had hope that he would recover if the doctors would just try.

Still, as he sits down in the chair next to Billy’s bed, he decides he doesn’t want to call Max today. He takes the desk woman's advice, as angry as it made him, and takes the time to truly reflect on the boy in that bed, with the feeding tube down his throat, the respirator breathing for him beside his bed, the IV in his neck, there because the veins in his arms had been so overused.

His hair is much longer now, just past his collarbones, but without maintenance, his blonde curls are knotted and dull. His skin is unnaturally pale, his freckles faded to nothing, and his whole body is littered with angry, dark red scars. The hole in the center of his chest still isn’t all the way healed, and the nurses are constantly fighting to keep it free of infection.

When he wakes up, they say he will be in immense pain and that he will have forgotten how to walk and talk and probably even breathe on his own. There was a chance too that his memory will have gaps in it, which could mean anything from forgetting what happened to him in July, to not even knowing his own name.

Basically if, no- when he wakes up, he won’t really be Billy.

Steve had always heard about and seen in the movies coma patients who twitch their fingers or moved their eyes, or who really give any signs of life, miraculously waking up and being themselves again, but Billy, he had only done the opposite.

At some point, he has to accept that Billy won’t be like one of those other patients, and, in the condition he is in, all pale skin and open wounds and zero signs of responsiveness, they were only prolonging his death. They had tried just about everything they could thanks to Steve’s willingness to cover the expenses, and, although he didn’t want to believe it, maybe just couldn’t accept it quite yet, it was, as the nurse had said, time to think about letting Billy go.

Not today though. He’d spend today with him at the very least, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind while he still could. The nurses used to say, when Billy had first been admitted and they still thought there was a chance of recovery, that Steve and Max, whenever she could come, should try talking to him, and Steve always did.

He never really has a whole lot to say, not since everything has been calming down recently. There were no more funerals to attend, no more grieving families to take a hot dish and his condolences to. The kids didn’t need him to watch them anymore, and Family Video had decided to lay him off until he didn’t have to make daily hospital commutes and he could work again. Basically, Steve’s entire world was Billy.

So it was only fair that Billy was what he usually talked about, reminiscing about everything they’d gotten to do together before the accident, telling him about what was happening with his sister now that she was getting older, and giving him updates on how many days it had been and how much he missed and loved him. One of the nurses had heard him say that once, seen him lean forwards and press a kiss to Billys forehead, but she had only turned away, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

Today though, it was much harder than usual to think of something to say to him. He always tried to leave all of the bad stuff at the door, didn’t think it would do Billy any good if he could even hear, to be listening to him always complaining or moping about their situation, but with death weighing heavy on his mind, what else was there to think about?

The anger and the remorse and the depression would be for when he went home tonight and downed a whole bottle of Fireball, Billy’s favorite whiskey, and called Robin drunk off his ass at two in the morning to tell her about how terrible he felt.

It was because he loved Billy with all of his heart that he wouldn’t put him through that. Even if it hurt more than anything else to see his love broken down and dying, which was, in Steve’s opinion, the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he always wore a smile on his face every day he walked into that hospital room.

As hard as that was, and as guilty as it made him feel to admit, Billy's sickness wasn’t the only thing making Steve miserable. He had also been through some unimaginable things himself while trapped in the Starcourt mall, and he didn't come out the other side the same.

Nightmares plagued him constantly, so that when he would eventually come back home from the hospital, he didn’t sleep more than fifteen minutes through the night. Being alone for too long warped his perception of reality, made him think everyone he knew and loved was gone, that he’d been abandoned or all his friends killed. He would constantly call to check on them, most of the time drunk and panicking, but they’d stopped picking up after the first few times. There were so many triggers too that could send him back to that night in an instant, where he’d just get stuck again.

And perhaps that is exactly why he can’t let Billy go so easily, because even if it is heartbreaking and makes him feel so empty inside being there with a version of his Billy who couldn’t speak to him or who he couldn’t hold, he was still alive. If he died now, Steve would have nothing. It would be no different from the losses everyone had suffered, the death of the chief of police and at least thirty other community members robbing them of their soundness of mind.

Letting go of Billy would just be another blow, to him and to the tight-knit community who had come so close together after the accident that rocked their little town. You wouldn't be able to tell from the fact that his room was always empty except for Steve or his sister, but the papers had revered him as a hero. Who he’d become after being hospitalized meant his death wouldn't just affect loved ones.

But more than any of that, he just didn’t want to give up on him. Pulling the plug meant sacrificing so many more moments they could have together, losing the chance to move on from what had happened. How could Steve ever know when it was the right time to do that?

When was it safe to say that Billy wouldn’t ever recover, and that they were just stretching out the inevitable? When could he feel right in letting his very best friend and the love of his life die? Deep down, past his initial reaction of shock and heartbreak, he knows he’ll never truly be ready to say goodbye, but that now was that time regardless.

Just like the nurses said, he wasn’t really Billy anymore. Who he’d been was a teenage boy with too much energy to burn, always getting into trouble and always in motion, bouncing his knee, twisting the ring on his middle finger or the locket around his neck, chain smoking cigarette after cigarette. It used to drive Steve insane how he wouldn’t sit still for anything, but now he would give anything just to have that back.

There was no personality left in him, no stupid jokes to cheer Steve up, no pestering his sister and her friends like a big brother does, nothing left in him at all that made him distinctly Billy. Steve wondered if maybe he had already given up.

If maybe, Billy wasn’t even in there at all anymore, and they were holding on to nothing just to feed their own selfishness. Steve wasn’t the most emotional of people, usually panicking before he got upset, but he could feel tears pricking at his eyes now, as he watched the slow rise and fall of Billy’s, or not Billy’s, chest, and listened to the beeps and hums of the machines that kept him going.

He knew what needed to be done. Just not today.

For now, he holds Billy's hand, unmoving and just warm enough that he could tell he was alive, and whispered to him anything that came to his mind.

If Billy could hear him, he knew he was probably tired of hearing the same stories over and over, thinking of Billy waking up and complaining about Steve being too boring made him chuckle to himself. An instant pang of regret tightens his chest, feeling guilty for being happy.

There was a really sweet nurse about the age of his mother who always checked in on him at the same time everyday, like he was the one with tubes and machines sticking out of his body. Her name was Dale, and she always peeked her head into the room around meal times to ask if he had been down to the cafeteria yet. Usually he hadn’t, and sometimes he still forgot to eat anyways, but it meant a lot to him.

Today though, she came all the way in the room, a sad look on her face, and he had to avoid her gaze entirely to keep himself from breaking down, choosing instead to focus on Billy’s slender fingers where he’d laced them through his own.

“Steve, honey, I know this is really hard for you, it’s hard for all of us when something like this happens, but you need to take care of yourself.” She was just being kind, but he wouldn’t hear it.

If this was going to be the last full day he’d ever spend with Billy, he was going to make it count. A soggy sandwich in the dingy old cafeteria wasn’t worth spending a single moment away from the other boy's bedside. He feels vaguely guilty about it, but he ignores the well meaning nurse, even as she says her generic condolences that all of them were trained to say.

He smooths out Billy's hair, brushing the part that always hung in his eyes to the side carefully, something Billy himself had always seemed to do when he was nervous. It reminds him of the time they tried to do each other's hair and Billy taught him how to make a braid, so he tells Billy about it.

When he hears the distant roar of a car's engine from the open window, it reminds him of the first time Billy drove him home in the now totaled beyond recognition Camaro, so he talks about that. A bird landing on the windowsill reminds him of sitting on Billy’s bed and talking about the seagulls and the beaches back in California where Billy had grown up, so he tells Billy that story too. The phone ringing at the receptionist's desk down the hallway reminds him of the time Billy had called him in the middle of the night to invite him out to the quarry, where they’d kissed for the first time and Steve clumsily asked him to make things official, so again, he told Billy all about it.

It's mostly a comfort to himself, keeping his mind off of the reality of the situation, but then the desk lady announces over the overhead system that visiting hours are over, and it’s time for him to go.

They had been giving him a lot of leeway here at Hawkins General, allowing him to visit every single day and sometimes with a 14 year old, which was strictly against the rules of the ICU. The end of visiting hours was a rule they always stood by though, and despite how much it crushed him to leave Billy by himself overnight, he always did it.

On his way out, he grabbed the stack of papers the receptionist tried to give him off of her desk. He would call Susan in the morning and ask her what she thought. He would try to involve her in the choice, since she’d technically claimed Billy as her dependent after her marriage to his father, who had given enough verbal and written agreements that he wanted nothing at all to do with his son while he was hospitalized that his wife could, and had, stepped in.

He went home that night with the thought in his head that this was the last time he’d do this, and by this time tomorrow, Billy would be dead.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej! #so excited to start sharing! #chapter two will be on tumblr later today! #it’s up on ao3 already if you wanna get ahead!

[staticscreenwriting]

Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.

Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.

A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.

This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.

He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.

In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.

Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him. 

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.

A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.

“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do. 

“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “ 

“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “ 

To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.

“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.” 

“ Old tattoo? “ 

Billy swallows audibly “scars.” 

He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.

“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “

“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “

It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.

“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer. 

“ Dr. Pepper? “ 

“ Good choice. Coming right up. “ 

She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window. 

The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down. 

“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “

Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole. 

Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?

“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”

“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”

There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.

“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”

Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days. 

“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”

“You miss California?”

“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”

She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head. 

“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”

He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.

His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.

Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -

“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.

“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”

“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”

“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”

“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”

Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.

“Oh you have no idea.”

As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.

“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.

“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”

Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”

He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.

The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips. 

“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”

Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”

He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.

“Oh hey, you.”

“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”

But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself. 

“It’s fine. No bother.”

Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.

A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?” 

There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“

Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.

Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.

His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.

“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …

“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”

Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.

“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“ 

“I love it!”

Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.

“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?” 

“Sure, let’s do it!”

The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.

“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”

He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now. 

“I’ll be fine.”

And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.

He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility. 

“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”

Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”

“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”

“ Almost 20.”

“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”

Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.

“ How old are you?”

“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”

“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “

It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.

“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”

“Yeah?”

She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.

“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.

“Okay. I’m done!”

There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.

“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.

“Absolutely!”

His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.

His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.

He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.

But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?

So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing. 

Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.

“I take it you like it?”

“I love it.”

And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.

She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating

“I can not thank you enough.”

“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”

He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.

They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.

She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken. 

“They’re burn scars.”

Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.

“Huh?”

“My scars. They are burn scars.  Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “

For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.

“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “

And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand. 

As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.

And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.

#billy hargrove x reader #Billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

[mourntheantagonist]

hc that Billy comes to love bath bombs after Starcourt. He starts keeping some at Steve's house and some at home. He finds they help a lot when he's having a really hard time either with physical pain from his injuries or just when he's struggling mentally.

don’t mind me absolutely going off below. idk how this turned into a full fledged one shot but I hope you enjoy it anon because your mind is so amazing.

———

I can imagine billy at home for one of the first few nights and he decides to take a bath because he still can’t really stand up too well on his own. when he walks in there’s a little bag on the counter that has his name written on it. Inside is this yellow sphere wrapped in plastic. he reads the label and follows the instructions and is stunned when the water starts to turn yellow and the scent of lemon fills the bathroom.

the scent is very calming, and considering he’s been on edge ever since he stepped back through the doors of his home, it’s a welcome feeling. when he gets in the water he’s surprised to notice the change of viscosity in the water. It’s slightly slimy but it feels really relaxing.

when he gets out of the tub after soaking for a while he feels for the first time since everything happened to be cleansed of the mindflayer. not entirely. but lingering hints to the scent of lemon make him feel clean and light and just a little less like a monster. no monster smells this good.

later that day max asked if he liked the bath bomb. for a split second he’s stuck on the word bomb until he figures out what she’s talking about.

“yeah. smelled good. thanks.” he’s still struggling to open up but he’s getting better about letting down his defenses, at least to max. part of letting down his defenses caused him to only be able to speak in one to two word sentences.

max understands though. and she appreciates not having to constantly walk on eggshells around him anymore. or at least not in the same way. instead being more concerned for scaring him rather than the other way around.

a couple days later he finds a box filled with twelve additional scents and colors and effects on his bed. he smiles. max.

she continues to restock for him as he cycles through each kind. his favorites are vanilla and lavendar and also the lemon. something about it makes his thoughts slow and his aches numb and he’s almost addicted to the feeling.

although it doesn’t last long because one day neil calls him out on it. asks him why he ‘smells like a faggot’. billy is initially able to say he used one of max’s soaps because he ran out, but that won’t fly for long. he eventually stops using them and lets the little collection he’s gathered sit under the sink in the bathroom to collect dust.

then he starts spending more time with steve. just needing to get out of his own house and out of his own bed for just a couple hours of the day he goes over to steve’s when he’s not at work. steve is constantly telling billy he enjoys his company but billy continues to apologize for burdening him. he’s not used to people just caring, and it’s especially foreign coming from steve for several reasons. one being that less than a year prior he nearly put him in the hospital. the second being that steve was a man, and there has never been a man in his life to actually care about him in that way. worried for his safety and well being. so billy tried to pull away, because he wasn’t going to allow him to let someone in just to be turned away at the door a second later.

but steve gets absolutely sick of it. sick of billy pulling away and believing he’s undeserving so steve practically forced him to believe it by kissing him the very next time he walks through the door. a very risky act on his part but he’s grown to trust billy over time that he’s not as worried as he could be for the outcome. he’s relieved when billy kisses him back, dropping a duffle bag to the floor that went completely unnoticed by steve as he was too locked in on billy’s lips. too locked in to notice the black eye that he only spotted when they pulled apart. too enthralled with the fact that he was kissing billy to taste the blood in his mouth. he’d ran away this time. he packed a bag and left and hoped steve would take him in. being met with a kiss right off the bat was the best thing that could have happened when steve opened that door. like the huge favor he was about to ask for almost became a small request because steve was inviting him into more than just his home. the kiss was an invitation into his life, and invitation for his care and love and all the mushy gushy stuff.

“I need a place to stay.”

steve, obviously and literally, welcomes billy into his home with open arms. immediately taking him to the bathroom to fix up the damage his father inflicted. steve kneeling before him while he sits on the toilet seat in complete silence. acting as if they didn’t have each other’s tongues down their throat just moments ago. both of them deciding it wasn’t the best time to talk about it. billy looked absolutely exhausted and worn and desperately needed sleep, and a nice bath (I know I just veered way off course but back to the regularly scheduled programming).

it was actually steve’s suggestion. noting the aches in his legs and back would probably be happy to be submerged under hot water. steve runs him the bath and goes to grab billy’s duffle upon request. steve gives him a soft kiss to the top of his head, before he leaves telling him they can talk about everything in the morning, and for him to just relax and take his time.

billy rummages for the small box he remembered to pack that’s filled with all the fun scents that max had been gifting him, after having to switch to using unscented alternatives which were nice but didn’t give him that same feeling.

he quickly picks out the cotton candy scented one that he’s been dying to try out. because what does cotton candy even smell like? he drops the bath bomb into the water and watches as it sizzles and quickly turns the water pink. oh if neil were there to see his sun soaking in a tub filled with pink water smelling like a fucking candy shop owner he’d do more damage than what had been inflicted earlier that night.

despite the developing bruises all over his body and the sting as the contents of the bath bomb filled his open wounds, he hadn’t felt this good in months. physically he felt like shit. but he was mentally and emotionally euphoric. running off the high from just minutes ago having steve harrington’s lips on his. the boy he believed to have been so far out of reach and was happy enough to just appreciate from afar. it felt unreal and like it was a dream. all that combined with the surprisingly intoxicatingly amazing aroma filling his senses and the feeling of rejoice as he finally took the steps to leave the clutches of his abuser and was so much more than successful. it was sheer bliss accompanied by aches and pains from past and present inflictions that didn’t seem so bad anymore.

steve and billy sleep in the same bed that night. they don’t cuddle or even so much as let limb touch limb, still unsure of the boundaries. but even with the distance between them steve can smell the unfamiliar candy like scent and takes it all in.

when they wake up in the morning they talk everything over during breakfast. billy tells him how his father just came home and started pounding into him completely unprompted. shouting slurs at him. the smell of whiskey potent on his breath. billy truly knew then that it was no longer about what he did or did not do. he’d feel his wrath regardless. and steve had scolded him about self preservation before and finally decided to take his advice.

then they adress the even larger elephant in the room, their kiss. it’s not that they were avoiding the topic per se, but they were definitely afraid to abandon this good feeling by talking about it. but they bite the bullet anyway, and they don’t regret that they do. despite how uncomfortable it is for billy to talk open about his feelings, especially these kinds of feelings, he feels something inside him release at the confession. like everything he was holding inside of him is free to the open air and steve takes hold of it and cherishes it.

their little unspoken thing that has been developing over the course of a few months finally being spoken. finally giving a name to the meaning to it all. of their late at night trips to the quarry. sharing a joint as they stare at the water below as it reflects the night sky. of their movie marathons on steve’s living room couch. giving meaning to each individual brush of the knee under the shared blanket. of stolen glances and words said under their breath. of thoughts of the other invading their dreams at night. a name to it all.

it’s a strange adjustment. to go from two guys secretly pining over each other from afar to instantaneously dating and living together. sharing a bed together, sharing meals together. things they were so used to doing alone now having a guest. it was nice and strange at the same time but they both welcomed it. waking up under the warmth of another human being. getting to see each other at their worst, when they were riddled with bed head and morning breath, and loving each other all the same.

what they did in bed wasn’t fucking. screwing. banging. it was much more. it was unfair to use those words that once described their previous encounters to describe what they did with each other. it was much different. putting their partners pleasure above their own. yearning for each other’s lips upon their own above anything else. as cheesy and corny as it is it was, they made love.

things moved awfully quickly. the two of them knowing they were in love with each other from the very start, however never saying the words out loud. they didn’t go through the normal stages of a relationship. they skipped a lot of steps and that led to some bad days. sometimes they spent too much time together, and billy’s on true safe haven came in spherical shaped and wrapped in noisy plastic, rather than a can of beer or a pack of marlboro’s.

that’s where he goes when things get shaky between the two. when he feels his fists clenching against his will and the veins on his forehead make their presence known. he escapes a potentially bad situation and lets his anger rise out of him with the steam of the hot water, and dissipate into nothingness. cleansing himself of the hurt. scars hidden under opaque colorful water.

the problem is steve doesn’t like when billy leaves him alone without word. he understands he needs his space, but he wishes he’d only talk to him about it before walking off.

on one day, when billy left mid conversation, steve follows. he honestly doesn’t know what he thought billy did in the bathroom for hours, and he’s not sure why he’s surprised to find his boyfriend laid out in a bath full of deep blue water with his eyes closed just relaxing. noticing the rise and fall of his chest as he takes in deep calming breaths. noticing the beach like scent that floods the room.

“can I join you?” steve finally asks. very intrigued in what all of this is.

billy thought he’d be more upset about steve bathing in. about him completely disregarding his need for space, but he wasn’t. perhaps space wasn’t really the thing he needed. he gestures to the other end of the tub, signaling the affirmative.

steve strips and slowly lowers himself into the tub. he’s facing billy who has since gone back and shut his eyes, head pointed to the ceiling. the water is very hot but feels really good on his skin. he has his legs pulled up to his chest as to not disturb billy. he just watches him as he relaxes completely. a state he rarely, if ever, has seen him in.

after several minutes billy opens his eyes and pulls steve over towards him so now they are both facing the same direction and steve is sitting in between billy’s legs. he has his arms wrapped around him and kisses his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for just walking out.”

“it’s okay. I get it.” steve responds, bringing his own hand to lay on top of both of billy’s that grip his stomach. “wanna tell me how you made the water turn blue?”

“magic.”

steve laughs and leans into billy, closing his eyes like he had and completely understanding almost instantly. it’s like he goes somewhere else. somewhere warm that smells of the ocean. somewhere nice and serene. he could easily fall asleep right there in billy’s arms. allowing himself to prune up under the water.

it’s something they continue together. when they both feel like they’ve had enough of each other for the day, instead of going off on their own, they strip down and enjoy a moment together in the tub. closing their eyes and imagining far away places while wrapped up in each other. a reminder that they’re both still there for each other. alone but together. dealing with their issues as a unit. feeling clean and smelling good afterwards.

steve comes home one day lugging in multiple bags worth of bath bombs along with other fun stuff like bath salts and bubble bars. their bathroom cupboards are better stocked than their kitchen. they both admit it might be just a little excessive.

but it doesn’t matter. because it’s perfect for them. any fight, any argument, any disagreement. all it takes is a brightly colored bath bomb and all that tension disaplears under the sizzle. it’s strange knowing they have max to thank for all of it.

#harringrove #this was so much fun to write #sorry it’s long and drawn out but I had to get it out bc I love this hc so much #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mandi writes tresh #headcanons #anon

[lightsupinthenorth]

Lend me your love

Read on AO3

Billy loves having his hair played with. When he was a child, his mother used to ruffle his hair in passing, or caress it when he was watching TV with his head on her lap. After she leaves, no one but himself or the occasional hairdresser touches his hair for a while. Not until Max comes along and wants to practice her braiding skills on Billy. He protests, at first, telling her to practice on herself instead of pestering him, but he ends up surrendering, as he has wanted to since she first asked.

 He would never admit to her that he likes it when she styles his hair, but he can at least admit it to himself. He’s not in denial. He doesn’t even care when she tries something extravagant that ends up making him looks stupid, because by the time she’s done he’s always relaxed and somewhat absent.

 -

 Once they move to Hawkins, Indiana, their relationship has deteriorated so much that Max never asks him to be her guinea pig anymore. As pathetic as it sounds, Billy’s pretty sad about it.

 In Hawkins, to appease Neil after what happened in California (that is to say, Neil finding Billy making out with a boy), Billy flirts with a lot of girls. He even takes some of them to bed. They don’t do much for him sexually, but sometimes, when he eats a girl out, her fingers grip his hair as she’s looking for something to hold onto. Billy likes that. He likes it so much that it nearly makes him stay afterwards, in the hope she will caress his curls as they lay in bed together. But Billy can’t do that. He doesn’t really want to, anyway: he’s just touch-starved.

 -

 After he finally grows some balls and apologizes to Steve for the fight at the Byers’, they become closer. Billy sometimes wishes he’d never apologized because, with him, Steve brings questions, questions about the bruises and scars adorning Billy’s body, questions that Billy always deflects.

 Steve also makes Billy want him even more than he used to before they started being friends. One day, during the summer, after Billy has had to sleep under the stars because of his father, Steve sees a leaf tangled in Billy’s curls and takes it off himself. For a second, Steve’s long fingers are in his hair and Billy nearly faints. Once they’re gone, far too soon, Billy wants them back more than anything, but it’s not like he can just ask for it. He’ll just have to make do with the reminiscence of that brief touch. It’s all he’ll ever have.

 -

 After Starcourt, Billy’s body is so messed up he can barely wash his hair on his own. Raising his arms hurts like a bitch. He tries to power through it, but he’s fed up after barely a week. He’s got to do something about it. He’s not happy, but he’s got no other choice.

 He goes to Steve, whom he now lives with, and hands a hair clipper.

 Steve takes it and looks back and forth from Billy to the clipper with his big Bambi eyes.

 “What are you giving me that for?”

 “I want you to shave my hair.”

 Billy would do it himself, but he’d better not take that thing anywhere near his head if he doesn’t want it to end in a catastrophe.

 Steve’s speechless for at least ten seconds, mouth agape.

 “What? But, why? I though you loved your dumb mullet.”

 Billy sighs. He doesn’t feel like explaining himself, but Steve probably won’t do what Billy asked if he doesn’t answer.

 “I can’t wash my hair properly ‘cause my arms are fucked up. It would be easier if I just had it shaved.”

 “But… but that’s… are you sure you won’t regret it?”

 Steve is now staring at the clipper as if it had personally offended him.

 “I don’t know… I don’t have much choice, anyway.” Billy shrugs.

 “Well… I could wash your hair for you, if you wanted…”

 Steve looks up at Billy tentatively, and then looks down almost immediately.

 Billy would say yes in a heartbeat if he didn’t already feel like a burden to Steve.

 “Thanks for the offer… but you’ve done enough for me as it is.”

 “I really wouldn’t mind, I swear… I don’t feel comfortable participating in the murder of your hair, to be honest.”

 Billy ponders Steve’s proposition a while longer, biting his lip, before finally accepting. Steve beams at him.

 “Great! Do you want them washed right now?”

 “Ugh… if you’re free. If not, whenever is fine.”

 “Now’s good.”

 Billy understands very quickly that he has not thought this through at all. As soon as they enter the bathroom, and Steve asks: “how do you want to do this?”, Billy knows he’s fucked.

 Filled with dread, he stares at their tiny shower.  

 “Don’t know…”

 “You can just stand in the shower and let me take care of the rest.” Steve said.

  “Should I… uh… take my clothes off or… ?”

 “Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

 Billy hesitated. He used to show off his body at every occasion and Steve has seen him naked countless times in the locker room after basketball practice when they were in high school. His body doesn’t exactly look the same as it did back then, however.

 Steve knows that, though. He’s seen Billy’s freakish scars already. He probably doesn’t care whether Billy’s body looks good or not. Steve is straight, after all. Plus, Billy doesn’t feel like dealing with his wet clothes after his shower, so he might as well undress. It’s going to be fine. At least, he probably won’t get hard in front of Steve, which might be the only benefit from his meds killing his libido.

 His yearning is still as strong as ever though, so Billy is far from safe.

 Steve turns the shower on and Billy tenses up as the water comes in contact with his skin.

 “Is it too hot?”

 “Yeah, a bit.”

 “I’m sorry… I take my showers really hot, so I couldn’t tell.”

 “’s fine.” Billy mumbles.

 He’s been possessed by a monster who hated warmth. He wishes he could take his showers as hot as Steve’s.

 Steve wets Billy’s hair carefully before turning the shower off and grabbing Billy’s shampoo. Steve’s hands are in his hair before Billy can brace himself. He shudders under their touch and his whole body goes pliant. He can barely stay on his feet and ends up needing to support himself on the tiled wall in front of him.

 “Are you okay, man?” Steve asked, stopping his movements.

 “Yeah… just tired.” He lies.

 “Do you need to sit down or something?”

 “No, no, it’s okay. Keep going.”

 Steve resumes washing Billy’s hair and then rinses. Then, Billy’s left to deal with the rest of his shower on his own. Thankfully.

 Like clockwork, Steve goes with Billy to the bathroom every three days to wash his hair for him. Billy feels gradually better, and his doses of meds get smaller and smaller, until he’s entirely off some of them.  However, Billy doesn’t tell Steve he’s able to raise his arms again. He would answer honestly if Steve asked him. But that’s the thing: Steve doesn’t ask. He keeps helping without complaining, and Billy��s too weak to admit he’s fine when he’s not been prompted to. He wants to wring every last drop of joy out of this situation until Steve catches on and puts his gentle hands away from Billy’s hair forever.

 It could have lasted a lot longer, if Billy had not given himself away like a dumbass. In his defense, it’s too early for reflection when it happens.

 Billy has just woken up and finds Steve rummaging through one of their kitchen drawers.

 “What the hell are you doing, Pretty boy?”

 “I can’t find the whisk.”

 “That’s because it’s not in there.” Billy says, as he reaches for it.

 He could have simply told Steve it was on the top shelf over the stove, but no. He had to get it himself, because he hasn’t had his first cup of coffee yet and is therefore deprived of his ability to think for even a second.

 He notices Steve starting at him and freezes mid-reach, but it serves no purpose except further highlighting he can now raise his arms pretty high. Higher than he would need to wash his hair properly.

 “Here you go!” He all but throws the whisk at Steve before retreating from the kitchen, kissing his coffee and his breakfast goodbye. Escaping is now his priority.

 He avoids Steve all day long, so he’s definitely perplexed when he is waiting for him in front of the bathroom door the next morning.

 “What are you doing here?” He asks before his brain can tell his big fat mouth to stay shut.

 “Well… helping you with your hair, as usual…” Steve replies, staring intently at Billy.

 “But…”

 “I know.” Steve interrupts him before he can say something stupid once more.  

 Billy is at a loss. What is Steve playing at? Why does he want to indulge Billy? Is it pity? Does he… actually like washing Billy’s hair? Why?  

 Whatever the reason is, Billy is not enough of a fool to ask. In fact, he doesn’t say anything, undressing in silence and hopping into the shower cubicle.

 With Steve so close, and his hands touching him, it quickly becomes clear to Billy that his libido has chosen that day to make a comeback. He does everything he can so that it does not become clear to Steve, in addition to himself: he tries to focus on the least sexy images he’s able to conjure, but he can still feel himself getting hard. His dick has refused to get hard for months, and now it won’t stay down no matter how badly Billy needs it to. His own dick is betraying him. How sad is that?

 Steve is now in the cubicle with him, his chest so close to Billy’s back that his now soaked t-shirt brushes against him. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed.

 “Do you…” Steve clears his throat, but his voice still sounds strained, “do you want me to lend you a hand with that too?”

 Billy opens his eyes right in time to see Steve’s slide down his chest and stop right above his crotch. They should talk about it, clear the air before doing anything, but Billy can’t bring himself to turn down Steve’s offer.

 He can only whisper “please” in between two labored breaths. When Steve takes him in hand and starts stroking him, Billy’s knees buckle under the onslaught of pleasure, and he has to lean against Steve’s chest, which makes his hard-on rest against Billy’s ass.

 “Fuck, Steve.”

 Billy grinds against him, pulling a moan from deep inside Steve’s chest. He can feel the vibration of it go through his own body.

 “God, you’re so hot.”

 Billy isn’t sure he agrees, but he’s in no position to protest. He’s on the verge of coming already. He wishes he could hold on a little longer, but he hasn’t been touched in ages and the fact that Steve is the one touching him is not helping him stave off his orgasm.

 “Steve”, he groans, “I… I’m gonna…”

 He can’t even finish his sentence. His voice has failed him.

 “I’ve got you” Steve assures.

 That’s what sends Billy over the edge. He comes hard over Steve’s hand and his own chest. The still running water cleans it off in a heartbeat. As soon as Steve lets go of Billy, he turns around and kisses him.

 He doesn’t know if kisses are on the table of their tacit agreement, but he’s going to find out. It turns out that they are indeed on the table, according to the way Steve kisses back eagerly and winds his hands in Billy’s wet locks.

 They have to separate when Billy peels Steve’s t-shirt off him and passes it over his head. After throwing the piece of clothes carelessly on the bathroom floor, instead of putting his lips back on Steve’s, Billy starts trailing kisses down Steve’s neck and chest. He stops on his way to give some attention to Steve’s nipples, delighted to note that they’re sensitive enough to get Steve panting in no time at all.

 Steve’s hands are already back in Billy’s hair, and Billy’s living for it. He keeps going down, down, down. Slowly. Until he reaches the elastic band of Steve’s old gym shorts which have been converted to pajamas. He pulls them down swiftly and takes Steve is his mouth, reveling in the gasp it gets him to make. He would have loved teasing Steve some more, but he’s been wanting this for too long. Billy looks up as he slides down Steve’s cock. Steve is staring, seemingly in awe, his brown eyes nearly black with arousal and his lips slightly parted. The sight, added to the weight and taste of the dick in his mouth, nearly gets Billy hard again. It would surely have if his cock had not just recovered from all the meds.

 Surprisingly, it does manage to harden again a few minutes later. Billy doesn’t really have the time to analyze the situation, he just feels a spike of arousal when Steve pulls hard on his hair. A choked moan leaves his throat, half from surprise and half from pleasure, as he’s hauled off Steve’s dick. Then, Steve is coming all over him, nearly silent apart from his raspy breathing. Once again, the water, which is now uncomfortably cold, does its job and washes the mess off.

 “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Steve apologizes, his voice shot to hell as if he were the one who had just had a cock down his throat. “I wanted to warn you I was going to come but I was literally rendered speechless”.

 He’s now gently massaging Billy’s abused scalp and Billy closes his eyes to enjoy the feeling.

 “It’s fine”, he assures after a while, as Steve helps him up.

 In fact, it’s more than fine. The hair pulling really got Billy going. He can’t believe he’s only discovering this. He’s known he likes his hair being played with for as long as he can remember, but he had no idea getting it pulled could feel that good. Well, until now that is.

 He can’t wait to explore that, preferably with Steve.

#Harringrove #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #fluff #smut #fanfiction

[strangerthingsharrington]

Can’t Fight This Feeling

-7-

"The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly," Robin and I spoke together.

"Why would they be talking about China if they're here in Hawkins?" I wondered, looking at the sheet of paper in front of us with the translated code.

I looked to Robin, she looked equally as confused, "I dont know...maybe they're working together on something?"

I sighed, shrugging my shoulders lightly, "But then why be in Hawkins? Russia is a lot closer to China, so why come all the way to Hawkins?"

Knock knock knock

Robin and I both looked at the back door of the store, she quickly looked to the front of the store before crawling gracefully though the partition and off the shelf where I was sitting, I slid off of it to join her.

"There's something here," I muttered quietly to her as we reached the back door, "they're in Hawkins for a reason, Robin."

"Agreed," she said quietly before opening the back door where a delivery man in a blue uniform was standing.

Robin took the clipboard from him to sign. I looked at the man and politely smiled at him before I looked down, as my mind continued to race.

Week is long. Silver cat. Blue meets yellow. Trip to China. Tread lightly.

Week is long. Silver cat.

"Thanks," Robin said quietly.

I looked up at the man before I caught the writing on his chest. Lynx.

I squinted before looking to Robin who had a bewildered look on her face. I looked back to the man who looked at us strangely before taking a step back and turning to walk away from us.

But not before I saw it.

He began walking down the hallway and I pulled Robin into the back hallway and pointed at his retreating back.

A silver cat.

We both looked at each other in amazement. Had we just cracked part of this code?

She pulled me back inside the shop and closed the door, locking it behind us.

"Holy shit," I whispered, looking at my friend.

She ran a hand through her short hair and looked at me with wide eyes.

“Holy shit," she agreed.

Realization set in. Starcourt. We already knew it was all happening at Starcourt. But clues and message were related back here. We would be able to crack this code because of the mall.

She lunged and grabbed the notebook and she ran from the back room with me right on her heels.

“Louise, you're never gonna believe who Dustin thought was a Russian," I heard Steve say, but I didn't even bother to look for him.

"You did too!" Dustin defended as Robin and I ran between the two of them.

I heard them calling both our names but we didn't stop. We ran into the middle of the sitting area and stepped up onto a bench.

"A trip to China sounds nice," we kept repeating to each other as we turned slowly in circles, looking to find the answer to this.

The florescent glow caught me. Imperial Panda.

"A trip to China," I smiled, motioning to Robin.

She nodded to me, "Tread lightly," she directed us to find this one next.

I suddently felt my whole body go warm at the same time. I was clenching my fists and releasing them over and over. We were so close to solving this. We were almost there.

"Lou!" Robin exclaimed, grabbing my hand, I looked at her and she nodded her head to the second level of the mall. Kaufman Shoes.

"If you tread lightly," she breathed out.

"When blue meets yellow in the west," I began whipping my head around trying to figure out this last one. I turned slowly and saw it. The big neon clock. A blue and yellow hand. When blue meets yellow in the west...at 9:45.

I latched my hand around Robins wrist, she had seen it too.

"When blue meets yellow in the west," we chorused.

"Holy shit we did it," I marvelled, looking at her.

She looked back to me with wide eyes, "We cracked it," she said as a small smile took over her face.

"Louise!" I looked over and saw Steve looking up at me with a perplexed look with Dustin next to him with the same look on his face, "Robin...what are you guys going?"

"We cracked it," she said quietly with a small excited smile, "we cracked the code."

Both the boys eyes went wide, "Seriously?" Dustin asked.

I nodded, grinning, "Yeah...we figured it out! We did it!"

A small smile took over Steve's face when we made eye contact, "You're a genius, Lou," he said before looking over to Robin where his face turned red, "both of you," he added hastily.

"Well come on," Dustin interjected, "let's discuss it in the privacy of the shop."

Robin hopped down from the bench and high-fived my awaiting brother.

Steve extended his hand towards me with a small smile, "Let me help."

I grinned and let out a small laugh, too excited about figuring out the code in such a short amount of time to even think twice about taking Steve's hand for the second time in two days.

I took his hand and let him help me from the two foot tall bench. He smiled back at me, "I'm serious...for you guys to figure it all out...genius."

I breathed out a laugh and let go of his hand to push some hair behind my ears. He used his suddenly unoccupied hand and ran it through his usual perfectly coiffed hair.

"Just a bit of dumb luck," I shrugged.

"Lou," Dustin said quietly from next to me.

I looked down at him and saw his big smile,

"Come on, let's talk about it at the shop," he said before leaving with Robin right next to him.

I took a few steps to follow behind them but turned to make sure Steve was with me. Which he wasn't. He was still standing at the bench in his dopey little Scoops uniform with his knee high socks. It was Steve. The same Steve I had known of my entire life. King Steve.

But in that instant he looked like a completely different person. Not the same one that I had known of forever. His face was relaxed and he had a small grin still there that seemed to grow when he realized I was looking for him to follow.

"Come on, Steve!" I called over to him, waving him over with my hand.

He was by my side in an instant and I, brazenly, wrapped my arm around his and walked side by side with him.

I was feeling almost euphoric walking with Steve because of figuring out the code. My heart rate felt accelerated and I felt like I couldn't get my brain to focus. I just felt so happy.

I let go of Steve's arm only when we got past the counter of the shop and we went in the back where Dustin and Robin were getting settled into chairs. I took a seat across from Dustin and Robin, with Steve taking the empty spot on my other side.

"Okay...so what are we looking at here?" Dustin asked looking from me to Robin.

Robin and I took turns explaining sections of the story, filling them in on the fully translated code, the delivery man, and finding the other parts of message within the mall.

Dustin and Steve listened intently with small smiles on their faces, every so often their brows would lift up in surprise.

"Holy shit," Dustin said once Robin completed the whole explanation.

"So, now what?" I asked, looking across the table at Dustin.

He sighed, "I'm not sure," he shrugged, "when blue meets yellow in the west is the time. So nine forty five tonight. We should probably check out the loading dock."

"So a stake out?" Steve confirmed, I looked to him and nodded.

"We need to know what they're bringing in there, the schedule and the comings and goings," Robin said, propping her foot up onto her chair.

“We have to go up there tonight," I stated, "we've come this far...we're checking it out and we're going to find out what's in there. What they're hiding and why they're in Hawkins."

—-

Steve and Robin rushed through their closing, we left the store with Steve closing the gate and locking it up. We walked through the doors that that led us through the back halls of the mall before we found the roof access. We all followed Steve up to the little door where he pushed it open and I could instantly hear the rushing of the water from the rain.

I pulled my raincoat close to me and pulled the hood over my head, Steve looked back to the rest of us, "Ready?"

I nodded back to him as Robin and Dust confirmed that they were too.

"Stay low," Steve reminded us.

He turned and ducked down before making his way to the ledge with us following behind him.

It was quite dark out and thankfully the rain would, hopefully, cover up any additional noise that we might have made.

We got to the ledge and looked over it, at the delivery people coming unloading trucks.

"Two guards at the door," Steve said, leaning over the ledge more.

Dustin went to his bag and pulled out his binoculars, he brought them up and kept watching.

I wiped away rain that had fallen into my face and began to shiver slightly, partially from the cold rain and the realization that this was a serious situation. It was kind of fun to crack the code and all that shit...but now we were looking for Russian spies and trying to find out what they were doing here. We were digging ourselves deeper and deeper and soon we wouldn't be able to dig ourselves back out of this hole.

"Make sure you look for Kaufman Shoes and Imperial Panda deliveries," I reminded Dustin.

He nodded and continued looking through his binoculars, I tried readjusting my raincoat but the rain was slowly starting to dampen my sweatshirt. I ran my hands up my arms to try and create some friction to warm myself up again, but it was useless.

"You okay?" Steve asked me.

I looked over at him, "Yeah," I said quickly, "just cold, I guess."

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked quickly, going to remove his coat.

I shook my head quickly, "I'm good, Steve. But thank you."

"Whistling man, ten o'clock," Dustin said.

"What do you think he's got in there?" Steve asked.

"Guns, bombs," Dustin started.

"Chemical weapons," added Robin.

"Whatever it is, they're armed to the teeth," Dustin said, I squinted and could see, clear as anything even through the heavy downpour that the two men guarding the door were armed with guns. Really big guns.

"Great...that's great," Steve groaned, wiping his eyes from the rain.

One of the guards went to the door and suddenly it opened. Maybe a passcode or key card?

"What do you thinks in there?" I asked.

"It's just more boxes!" Dustin said quickly, not pulling the binoculars away from his face.

"Let me check it out," Steve said, blindly reaching for Dustin's binoculars.

"No-I'm still looking!"

"Let me see it!" Steve insisted.

"Dustin, let him look," I calmly told my brother, wouldn't hurt to have Steve check it out too.

"No, in a minute!" he snapped.

Then the binoculars were slammed against the metal ledge making an extremely loud banging sound.

"Shit," I said quietly, just before the guards took on an alerted position, holding their guns tighter to themselves.

The four of us ducked down at the same time so we would be hidden from view of the guards. Even though I knew they would still come to investigate a sound that was so out of the ordinary.

I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped onto the loose gravel under my hands out of fear. The gravel was replaced by Steve's hand within seconds holding it tightly and squeezing.

I opened my eyes and looked over at him, he was staring back at me with wide eyes.

"We have to go, they're going to come look," I told him.

He looked from me to the door that led us up here and nodded, "Let's make a break for it guys," Steve said to us, before getting up and ducking low and running back towards the door.

Once we were back in the door I dropped Steve's hand again to brush off some of the water from my coat and push some out of my hair.

"Quick," I panted, as I began leading them back down the stairwell. We got the bottom but we came to a fork, and I knew that one of the guards was going to be coming up any second. I knew which way we came in, it was closest to where the guard would be, so I started heading down the other hall.

"Lou! This way!" Dustin called.

I looked back and shook my head, "He's going to be coming through that door! Trust me!"

I heard their footsteps scurry behind me, just as we reached another set of doors marked mall entrance we heard the faint sound of another door being thrown open.

"Good call, Lou," Steve gushed.

I smiled over at him, "Well," I began and looked to Dustin, "guess we found your Russian."

I pushed open the door and found ourselves on the opposite end of the mall from where Scoops Ahoy was. We continued speed walking over towards the other end.

We didn't stop until we reached the doors at the parking lot where Steve parked his car that morning. That felt like ages ago.

The four of us ran through the rain and into Steve's car, me in the front and Robin and Dustin in the back.

"We have to get in there," I said instantly.

"We've come this far," Robin agreed, "I'm finding out what the hell is in there."

"Tomorrow," Dustin stated, as Steve left the malls parking lot, "we'll figure out a way in tomorrow morning."

"I'll pick everyone up," Steve told us.

I say silently in the front seat with my thoughts. But the adrenaline was still pumping through my whole body. That was close. Too close. We have to be smarter tomorrow when we tried to get in the room and get to the bottom of this.

By the time we got to our house Dustin had come up with about ten thousand way to get it which included finding a way to disguise ourselves and get access and ended with him thinking we could dig our way in there.

Dustin offered a swift goodbye to Steve before leaping out of the car before it was fully in park and slamming it shut behind him.

I opened the car door, "See you tomorrow, Steve!" I said before taking a step out.

"Lou?"

I looked back to Steve, "Yeah?" I asked as my leg began getting soaked because the door was still open.

He hesitated and began rubbing the steering wheel, "Lou...you don't have to do this," he told me quietly, "this could be dangerous, you know? I...um, don't want you to get hurt or anything."

I stared at him and watched his eyes dart back and forth while he looked at me, I closed my eyes and smiled slightly.

"Don't ruin all the fun, Steve," I said jokingly, "I still need more information for my what I did this summer essay," I said, throwing it back to our first conversation in the back of Scoops Ahoy.

He smiled at me and nodded, "Yeah...yeah if you're sure then okay. I'll um, see you tomorrow then."

"Bye Steve," I said quietly before getting out of the car, shutting the door and running over to my door that Dustin had left open for me.

I went to shut it, only to find that, once again, Steve was still sitting in his car with the window down, surly getting drenched. He raised his hand in a small wave to me which I returned before he finally began backing out fo the drive way and I finally shut the door.

I walked straight to my room, the exhaustion was finally setting in after the events of the day and the lack of sleep from the night before.

But even though I was beyond tired, my mind continued to race at an alarming speed and I couldn't quiet it down. I kept running through everything over the past few days and it was filling me with fear, stress, anxiety, eagerness, adrenaline and excitement.

Russian code. Star court. Steve smiling at me. Guards. Imperial Panda. Steve grabbing my hand. Translation. Steve driving me home. Steve making me laugh. Maybe he wasn't a jerk anymore. Maybe he hides it more.

Finally, thankfully, my eyelids became too heavy and I drifted off.

—-

Title credit to REO Speedwagon and gif credit to owner!

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #dustin henderson #netflix

[moonlit-imagines]

Protective Dad (Part 3)

Steve Harrington x Hopper!fem!reader

warnings:

a/n: this is kinda everywhere, might continue when st4 is out in like 2 years. also it’s kinda like bad bc its less steve and more storyline. guys should i make part 4 the funeral???? lmk

prompt: @melxoxo23: “A story where the reader is hoppers daughter and dating Steve. And include Joyce. Maybe with some angst? And a happy ending! Please and thank you!!!”

part 1 part 2 part 4 (Taglist: @sherlokid7 @girl-obsessed-with-things @everydayimfangirling @sam-the-strawberry @anamcg317 @thatbandchick39 @nerdypartytrashpsychic)

Steve had been MIA for almost a day now, in addition to Robin and his young friend, Dustin. Your dad hadn’t been seen since the morning you left in a rage. The band of children took you in as one of their own after they explained to you the situation about the big bad monster coming back. Third time’s the charm. You never thought you’d have deal with it again, but it had been a while since anything bad had happened in Hawkins, it was only a matter of time. It didn’t explain why your boyfriend and your dad were yet to be seen.

Your sister, El, was on edge and very upset with Mike. Looks like dad got what he wanted.

The kids and you went around town for a while, trying to do whatever in your path to kill the Mind Flayer for good. You finally looped back around and made it to your cabin, and that’s when disaster struck.

El searched for the Mind Flayer, and it ended up finding her and attacking. It destroyed your cabin and in the midst of chaos, knocked you straight into a wall, hitting your head and opening a gash for blood to pour out of. That wasn’t as bad as what your sister got, though. It was a nasty-looking bite. You were oddly calm with all destruction around you, but it was time to book it since El was injured.

To the convenience store you went, to take care of your sister’s leg, you must. The group of nerve-ridden teens rushed around the store, taking anything they found useful. Max and you patched El up to the best of your abilities. Dustin had patched through the radio for about a minute, and you knew something was off. Your sister searched for Dustin and told the group where he was, then you were on your way.

“Are you sure that he said ‘gate?’” You asked her. “I mean, he is at the movies. I think he could’ve said great. I don’t know. It’s so confusing. How’s your leg?” You were rambling.

“Hurts.” El told you. Her leg was propped up on your lap. You had taken some ice from the store and wrapped it in a towel, trying to bring the swelling down. Jonathan had turned sharply, causing El to gasp in pain.

“Sorry, sorry, everyone alright?” He asked.

“We’re fine, just keep going!” You comforted your sister. Finally, you arrived at Starcourt and everyone piled out of the car and made a run for the mall. El was hobbling, poor thing. But she powered through it and rushed inside.

—————

A car flew across the food court, and the dishelved group running from evil Russians came to a halt. Your group merged with Dustin’s and everyone reunited. You saw your boyfriend and ran into his arms.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay.” You held him tight.

“What happened to your head?” Steve investigated your injury. You pushed his hand away and tenderly rested your hand on his cheek.

“Are you kidding me, Steve? What happened to your face?” You stared at his massive swollen eye, wishing you could do something to help it.

“Well, it’s a long story,” he shrugged, “secret elevator, child endangerment, Russians, interrogation, getting drugged, making a break for it. It’s been a long day.” He chuckled through the pain. Then El let out a groan of pain and fell to the floor. You rushed to her side.

“It’s my leg!” They pulled the bandages off and watched as something underneath her leg move about. Robin was trying to distract everyone, including herself, while Jonathan found a knife to open the wound. Your sister screaming in pain as the knife sliced through her skin. She used her powers to remove the parasite while everyone watched in fear and disgust. It crawled away, but not before a boot squashed it. You all looked up to see the adults arrive.

“Dad?” You asked in disbelief. It’d only been two or three days since you’d seen him, but it felt like a lifetime. He came to you and El and engulfed you in a hug.

“I’m never letting you two leave the cabin again.” He joked. You laughed weakly.

“Yeah, about the cabin...” You sighed and avoided eye contact.

“Destroyed.” Lucas cut in. “Mind Flayer came through, it’s barely standing.” Hopper got up and exhaled deeply.

“Alright, catch us up.” He comforted El while the rest of the group walked the adults through the crazy last few days.

Steve explained what happened with the Russians, not even in complete detail, but every word of it made you tense up a little more. You wished you could’ve been there for him. His swelling had gone down some, but he was still covered in puke and blood. Everyone was arguing over how the plan should go, and you had your ideas, too.

“Dustin, Erica, Steve, Robin, y/n,” Your dad listed, “these are the keys to the car I borrowed.” Hopper handed the keys to Steve, and Joyce rolled her eyes at Hops half truth. “Go to wherever this kid says his radio station is.” You nodded in acceptance. “Steve, y/n, I’m putting you in the same group so you’re not worried about each other, got it?”

“Yes, dad. We got it.” You almost left, but hesitated and ran back to your dad. You hugged him tightly and whispered: “Please be careful, love you.” He hugged you back and smiled weakly.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. And I love you, too.” You went over to El, who was waiting for Murray to finish briefing Jonathan and Nancy on the locks.

“Hey, hun, be safe. I’ll see you soon.” You gave her a gentle hug, making sure not to hurt her. “Love you.” She hugged back and returned your words. You stroked her hair and ran back to Steve, you had to get communications up!

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Steve cheered when he saw the car your dad stole borrowed. You called shotgun and Steve hit the gas. You turned the radio on as a little distraction. Steve reached for your hand and grasped it tight. “Everything will be alright, baby.” All you could think about was your dad and your sister. The scenarios you were thinking in your head were awful. Dustin and Robin were talking about his maybe made-up girlfriend, and suddenly he yelled at Steve to turn into the dirt. Steve complied and the incline of the hill was too much for the “Toddfather.” You hopped out and ran upwards while the others followed.

—————

You and Steve told the stories of the last few eventful days. You cringed as he described in full detail what brutal things he went through. He kept fixating on the little gash in your forehead, you don’t know how. The poor thing was bruised and bloody all over. But he was so worried about you. He kissed the top of your head and pulled you close.

“When this is all over, you could probably stay at my place since your cabin got destroyed.” Steve assured you.

“I don’t wanna even think about it right now.” You rested your head on his shoulder. He hummed and held you, trying to take in the quiet, calm moment. Until he looked at the town and saw the lights of Starcourt flashing, meaning the Mind Flayer was closing in.

“Guys...” Steve motioned to the blinking lights of the mall. Dustin called to the “Griswold Family,” but all the radio would transmit was loud growls. Steve made his way back to the car to save the day, and you followed. “Wait, y/n, you should stay here.” He told you.

“No way, I’m coming with you. Start the car.” You hopped in, and Robin climbed in the back. Steve didn’t have the time to protest. He started the car and booked it for Starcourt.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me of you get hurt.” He mumbled. After a few long minutes of speeding down the road, Steve collided with Billy’s car in the parking lot. You held on tight to the door of the car and the Toddfather spun. Steve checked on his passengers and watched in horror and shock as the Mind Flayer scaled the mall. A horn from Nancy’s car blared as they pulled up beside you, shouting for you to get in. Your half of the Scoops Troop combined forces with the Griswold Family. Once secure in the trunk, you let out a sigh of relief...and then looked out the window to see the monster chasing you. Dustin’s serenade was enough to keep your spirits up for two minutes or so.

The monster finally turned around, which meant you were turning around, too. Back to the mall you went. There were helicopter support teams heading the same way. Something was going down. By the time you got there, the Mind Flayer was down and emergency services was taking care of your friends. Steve and you got check ups, and you rushed to El to make sure she was okay. She most definitely was not, she told you everything. She hugged you as tight as she possibly could, not wanting to let go. Steve was with Robin, watching as you and your sister comforted each other. But this wasn’t the end of your bad night. You and El saw as Will ran up to his mom. She looked at you with tears streaming down her face, staring at you and your sister, shaking her head. That’s when you realized what happened. You burst into tears and fell to the ground, Steve ran towards you and grabbed you. El was shaking her head, denying the impossible.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He comforted. “I’m sorry, y/n, I’m so sorry.” Steve let out some of his own tears. He invited El into the hug. She gave in and unleashed her emotions. What were you to do? What was she to do? You were blindsided and nobody had even spoke the truth yet. They didn’t have to. “You two can stay at my house for the next few days, just come and stay. I’ll be here for you.” He assured. When you had finally calmed down as much as you could, you sat still and silent on the pavement, holding your sister’s hand tight. Steve decided it was best to walk away for a moment and give you some time to process before he took you to his place. He shakily headed towards Robin.

“Everything alright?” She asked regretfully. Steve shook his head, swallowing back tears.

“No, no it’s not.” He broke, feeling bad that he was upset over your loss. Tears poured down his face. “She lost her dad, Robin. I can’t imagine what she’s going through. I hate that I’m crying because I don’t deserve to. I’ve known her dad for a couple years now, and he didn’t always like me, but it’s hitting hard. This isn’t how this is supposed to be. I can’t believe this.” He went on a rant and Robin pulled him into a hug.

“Steve, take a minute, pull yourself together,” she rested a hand on his shoulder, “take her and her sister home. Stay with them. They need support. This is hell for them.” Steve took a couple deep breaths and headed back over to you guys.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, holding each hand out to help you and El up. You both grabbed either hand and he pulled upwards. “They found my keys with the Russians, so I got them back.” He pulled them out and unlocked the car doors for you. You silently sobbed in the backseat with your sister beside you.

“Thank you, Steve.” El whispered. You pulled her closer to you and felt her shaking.

“Anytime.” He was scared to speak, if he was being honest. It was a tense situation, on top of the earlier events. He was just glad that you and everybody else were okay, but he mourned your father with you. He pulled into the driveway of his house and helped get El inside. She took a shower first, and you helped rebandage her injury. Steve took a shower next to clean the blood and puke. While he was bathing, you rummaged through his closet for your clothes, something for El to wear to bed. She fell asleep in Steve’s room. You grabbed some clothes for him so he didn’t wake your sister up. You cleaned up Steve’s cuts when he got out. It was finally your turn for the shower, and you let the dirt and blood run down the drain, taking in the peaceful moment. You deep cleaned yourself, what you’ve wanted to do since the Mind Flayer’s disgusting goo dripped onto you. You stepped out of the shower and fixed the gash on your forehead with a butterfly bandage, grabbed everyone’s dirty clothes, and threw them into the washing machine. You put on Steve’s sweatpants and shirt, and walked into the living room. It was covered in pillows and blankets. Steve stood awkwardly in the center of the room.

“I, uh, I know how you get after encounters like these. I brought out some snacks and your favorite movies. And of course, I made a fort. I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep no matter how exhausted you were. I don’t know if you wanna talk about it or sit in silence and cuddle or pretend like it didn’t happen, but whatever you wanna do, I’m cool with it.” He explained in detail. You scanned the room, thinking about your response, but you quickly resulted to crying. He approached carefully and pulled you into a strong hug that made you feel safe and warm. You tried to keep your sobs quiet, as not to wake your sister. “Shhhh, babygirl, I’ve got you. You’re safe here.” He said anything comforting that could come to mind.

“I love you.” You said through your suffocating sobs.

“I love you, too. Do you wanna put a movie on?” You nodded at the suggestion. He picked out your comfort movie and stuck it in the player, then sat next to you on the mound of pillows. You held the bowl of popcorn, almost protectively. You didn’t want to admit you were scared the Mind Flayer was going to come back to look for you tonight. You wanted the lights on as a precaution. Steve allowed it, anything to make you feel better. He put his arm around you shoulder and pulled you closer to him. He would do anything in that moment to shield you from the awful outside world. You deserved none of what you got on this cruel summer night, but you believed you did. Your last few memories with your dad were fighting and stress and resentment. You relived it over and over again that night. You couldn’t pull your mind off of the scarring reality of tonight.

After endless hours of mind-numbing movies, you passed out. Steve refused to fall asleep before you, he didn’t want you to be alone. Even in sleep, you looked stressed as can be.

—————

Steve woke up before you and El, so he made breakfast. You had always told him about El’s Eggo obsession, so that was her own personal plate. He made your favorite foods for breakfast and put them together all nice. You and El woke up nearly simultaneously and grouped in the kitchen.

“Let’s start this day on a relatively good note, ladies.” Steve handed you two your corresponding plates. Ahead of you was quite the journey to healing.

#steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #robin stranger things x reader #stranger things 3 x reader #stranger things 3 imagine #robin stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #hopper!reader #el hopper #eleven hopper x reader #eleven hopper imagine #eleven hopper #eleven x reader #scoops troop #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #joyce byers #will byers #jonathan byers #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #dustin henderson #murray bauman

[billyhargay]

billy survives. he doesn’t want to just return home to neil- especially not after all that had happened. since the government wants everyone to be very hush-hush about starcourt, he's going to use their need for his silence to his advantage.

he starts to barter with the officials who are breathing down his neck for answers, saying he'll tell them all that he knows and what happened with him if in turn, he gets a new identity and a place to live. he wants the public, wants his father, to believe billy hargrove is dead, so he can take on a new name and a new identity to be as far away from neil as he can be.

the officials begrudgingly agree. once billy is released from the hospital to his new apartment, he's instructed to stay in for at least a few months to a year until everything completely calms down, and frankly he's bored as shit by the third week that rolls around. he's stuck on his own without much to do, but he thoroughly enjoys having the chance to sit in the living room for once and watch some shows on TV that pique his interest, even if he ends up flipping through the channels after a few minutes. plus, having his groceries and other necessities delivered to him every two weeks or so was a neat little addition- he just wished they'd give him some cigarettes.

once a month rolls by, he gets a call. he's allowed to have visitors now, and he wants to laugh at that because who the hell would want to visit him? the person on the line says they'll be informing at least one member of his immediate family, and his bitter amusement is cut short as he blanches at their words. would they be notifying his father of his whereabouts?

the call is over before he can ask, and billy sits the next few days in tense silence, ever awaiting for neil hargrove to barge into his new home, shattering what was supposed to be his long-sought safe place. he feels scared for the first time in a while.

then, one quiet, early morning, the doorbell buzzes. billy is awoken by it, and he drags himself out of bed to throw on a shirt, barely conscious until he takes the first step out of his room, a jolt of fear waking up him.

was neil at the door?

his blood runs cold, and he almost reverts back to the same terrified child he once was when his mother left. he feels the prickly sensation crawl up his stomach to his throat, can already feel the grip on his neck from the enraged man he once resided with.

billy continues to walk, footsteps silent even on wood, and he slowly, slowly unlocks his front door.

as it turns out, max stands in front of him instead, a tall woman in a pressed pantsuit hovering right behind her. she's holding a plastic bag in her hands and seems very tense, barely looking at billy when he opens the door enough to see them better.

billy can breathe again.

"max," he says, glancing at his younger sister before looking away just as she did. "didn't expect you to come."

max doesn't respond, she looks on the verge of tears. before billy could say anything more, the girl threw her arms around him, holding back her cries as her smaller frame trembles from the effort. billy's chest tightens and he places a hand on her back, unsure of how to react to her onslaught of feelings- feelings for him of all things.

they eventually make their way into the living room, and billy is...awkward. he and max barely talked to one another even before the byers house, and while the woman standing off to the side and keeping a close watch on them both didn't help, max being an open emotional mess was the weirdest thing for him. he's seen her cry a few times, sure, usually because of something he did, but this was different. her tears weren't due to fear or anger, they were happy. he could tell it was rather new to her too. she seems to have a hard time keeping a hold of herself even as she tries to talk to him normally.

"me and my friends all chipped in," max gestures to the bag she placed on the coffee table with shaking hands. "i mean, steve did most of it because he has- well, had a job. we thought you'd be bored since you have to be in hiding for a while."

reaching into the bag, she pulls out a box, stark white, stylized letters that read "VIDEO COMPUTER SYSTEM BY ATARI". billy can't decide whether to laugh or cry.

"these things cost a fuckton," he says instead, in utter awe that his sister and her brat friends and king steve all bought him a whole gaming system. "why not just keep it for yourself?"

max played with the tape on the box, it was obviously already opened, they apparently couldn't resist playing it themselves before having to give it away. "i prefer the arcade, it's easier to focus." she says, a sudden but very familiar distant look in her eyes that sends an icy stab through billy's veins. she was alone with his bastard old man.

moving forward, he lowers his voice down so only max could hear. "has he done anything?" he asks, worry clear in his features. max shakes her head, then shrugs.

"he's a lot quieter, but..." she tries to laugh, the sound coming out painfully forced. "you know how he is when he's pissed."

"max," billy speaks slower. "if he's hurt you..."

"no, no," max shakes her head again, more firmly, earnest. "he hasn't done anything like that to me or my mom."

billy leans back, watching max closely for any tell that she wasn't giving the whole truth. she seems to be relaxed, as relaxed as she could be at least. "if anything goes down, stay with the sinclairs."

max looks up at him and stares, shocked. "what-?"

"listen, i still don't like that kid." he cuts her off. "but out of all of your weirdo friends...his family seems the most normal."

max slowly nods, a pensive expression passing over before she returns to the original topic at hand, not wanting to further expand on anything else. "there's a few games already inside the box, you'll probably think they're lame, but it's something to do."

she offers the box and billy takes it to look it over himself. he's unable to stop the smile that creeps its way onto his face, even though it feels weird and ill-fitting. "didn't know my stepsister was such a dweeb, but i should've guessed it by who you hang out with."

max scoffs. "being a dweeb is more fun than being a loser like you." she jabs back, tone too playful for it to be a serious attack, and it makes billy laugh. the air clears up just a bit, but they still fall silent, unable to look at each other directly. they both knew they had the same thing in mind, to try out the game together- but the woman standing guard cleared her throat, bringing their attention to her before they could work up the courage to ask one another.

"maxine, it's time to go." she says, tapping her watch for emphasis as she attempts a warm smile that just came out too wide and too fake. max visibly slumps as she stands and shuffles her way over to the woman, billy hastily placing the game console to the side to make his way over to the door along with them. he stiffly opens it for the both of them, watching them both trek down the hallway away from his apartment, his chest feeling loose yet empty all at once as he realizes he has no idea when or if max will be able to visit again.

then, his sister stops in her tracks, her hands tightening into fists for a moment before she forces them back into a relaxed state, whirling around to finally face billy directly.

"thanks," she blurted out. "for...not being dead."

billy was caught off guard to say the least, and he felt a heavy pang hit his heart. "uh, yeah. thanks for the atari."

max gives a pressed smile, turning away for the final time and wiping at her face before rushing to join with the impatient woman who stopped just by the corner. billy waits until they disappear to close the door, taking a beat to redo all the locks, his vision blurring on the last latch.

thanks for not being dead. billy didn't know just how much he needed to hear that until that very moment.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #fic #mine #blease tumblr....post this correctly kdnsfknsdf #btw everything is lowercase bc its not a Serious fic thing #just like...ramble fic ? #yeah sdkfnksd #otherwise i would be more Proper

[bharatiyamedia-blog]

Stranger Issues Season Three Evaluate: The Hawkins Crew Really feel the Ache of Rising Up

http://tinyurl.com/y47d5hbw The Hawkins crew is rising up — and aside. In Stranger Issues season 3 — out Thursday, July four on Netflix — the children are actually youngsters, which in flip impacts not simply the dynamic between the group but in addition the present on the entire. Mike (Finn Wolfhard) and Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) are spending most of their time with one another, to the displeasure of the remainder of the gang and her adopted father Chief Hopper (David Harbour). Having misplaced over a 12 months of his childhood to the monsters, all Will (Noah Schnapp) needs is to play Dungeons & Dragons just like the boys used to, however Mike and Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) — who additionally has a girlfriend in Max (Sadie Sink) — aren’t actually into it anymore. And Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), feeling ignored by everybody, begins to spend extra time with Steve (Joe Keery), which additional means that the AV Membership is prepared for a cut up. Whereas Stranger Things has been a coming-of-age story from the beginning, a minimum of for many of the younger characters, the third season of the hit Netflix sequence appears to be the pivotal turning level of their arcs. Eleven is on the coronary heart of this, as she lastly will get the possibility to find herself after two seasons of getting to be hidden for her personal security. The beginning of Stranger Issues season Three hints that Hopper and El’s parent-daughter relationship may not have an extended future when the mud settles. That is simply one in all a number of subplots which can be set in movement through the early going, with the third season persevering with the second season development of sending teams of characters on branching storylines, which can naturally come collectively because the season progresses. Moreover, Stranger Issues Three advantages from the change of setting. It is set within the (American) summer season of 1985, which permits it to depart behind the gloomy autumn that contributed to the temper on the primary two seasons. On display screen, that additionally contributes to a vibrant blast of colors and nowhere is that extra apparent than on the new locale that brings everybody collectively: Hawkins’ shiny new Starcourt Mall. For the children, it replaces the varsity because the frequent hangout. Nevertheless it’s a step higher for the present, as it might pull in individuals of all ages, together with these sufficiently old for faculty (resembling Steve), whereas utilizing it as a setting for the third season’s narrative that spans teenage romances, new human villains, and an enormous battle with the monster from the Upside Down, as a recent trailer greater than hinted at.   We open one summer season earlier, within the June of 1984, as a six-minute near-wordless scene units up the brand new risk, or slightly a brand new pathway to the outdated risk. Leap ahead a 12 months and the children are benefiting from their summer season, staying out late and sneaking into the cinema utilizing a backdoor to observe movies such because the zombie horror Day of the Dead. (The place are the ushers?) In fact, this being Stranger Issues, one thing is amiss in Hawkins inside the first 15 minutes. Will is the one one who can really feel it although, suggesting he retains a tiny little bit of that connection to the monster, regardless that it was pushed out of him in season 2. His psychic powers are once more harking back to Harry Potter’s scar, besides he now has PTSD instead of the visions he had earlier. Of the younger adults, the couple Nancy (Natalia Dyer) and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) — Mike and Will’s elder siblings, respectively — are working on the native newspaper The Hawkins Put up. Whereas her boyfriend is seemingly allowed to handle the photograph division on his personal, Nancy is of course not taken severely as a author since that is the eighties, and made to do workplace errands resembling espresso and lunch as a substitute. This rightly annoys her to no finish and pushes her to take up assignments on her personal. One of many fixed thorns in her facet is a senior journalist named Bruce (Jake Busey), whose character makes him the proper monster-meat, given the distaste viewers may have for him. You may possible really feel the identical manner for Hawkins’ Mayor Kline (Cary Elwes) — one other new character — who orders Hopper round. Talking of Hopper, the one actual policing he is doing is Eleven’s, whereas attempting to re-insert himself in Joyce’s (Winona Ryder) life, who remains to be recovering from shedding season 2 boyfriend Bob Newby (Sean Astin). As with final time, Joyce is the one of many few ones involved with investigating even the tiniest unusual happenings, alongside Nancy, although the latter is seemingly doing out of proving she’s good at her job and never as a result of she thinks one thing is occurring in Hawkins. Amongst the children, it is the left-out Dustin who stumbles onto a secret after which accepts the assistance of Steve’s smarter ice cream parlour colleague Robin (Maya Hawke), who can be the one addition to the principle forged of Stranger Issues season 3. Robin provides a brand new dynamic to the Dustin-Steve bromance that got here to life in season 2, and he or she’s additionally arrange as a romantic curiosity for the elder of the 2. Robin, Steve, and Dustin in Stranger Issues season 3Picture Credit score: Netflix Mentioned bromance will get extra highlight on Stranger Issues 3, with the co-creators Ross and Matt Duffer — professionally generally known as The Duffer Brothers, who additionally function writers and administrators on a number of episodes — clearly conscious of the shared chemistry and the way pleasant they had been to observe final time round. That in the end speaks to what retains audiences hooked. Even because the monsters may herald viewers and drive the plot, Stranger Issues is cherished for its endearing characters, their interactions, and the expansion of their relationships. And whereas the third season of the Netflix sequence continues beforehand established ones, together with the sturdy bond between Joyce and Hopper, it additionally makes room for brand new ones resembling Max and Eleven’s, who will get to emerge from the cocoon she was stored in. Whereas everybody’s coping with teenage life, that is the primary time that El realises what it is wish to be a child and luxuriate in herself. However the character growth is not unfold out throughout the board. The likes of Jonathan have little to do apart from accompany Nancy on her adventures, whereas Stranger Issues season Three turns Lucas and Max into sounding boards for Mike and Eleven, respectively. Their goal, a minimum of within the three episodes we had entry to, is to serve the opposite particular person’s storyline. And naturally, it is futile to convey up Mike and Nancy’s mom Karen (Cara Buono), who had little to do in season 2 besides that flirt scene with Max’s elder brother Billy (Dacre Montgomery). Sadly, Stranger Issues Three can consider nothing besides to proceed that sole strand as and when it pleases. It is bemusing that Buono remains to be listed within the present’s essential forged, given the therapy meted out to her character. The one different trouble is a little bit of narrative comfort that kickstarts a subplot. As all the time, Stranger Issues is crammed with nostalgia for these of a sure period, with well-known scenes from TV exhibits resembling Magnum P.I. and Cheers enjoying within the background, along with a soundtrack boasting of hits from Madonna, The Automobiles, Reducing Crew, Don McLean, Foreigner, Jim Croce, REO Speedwagon, and Corey Hart. Some songs are used significantly for the lyrics’ on-the-nose impact. And because of intriguing-enough thrills (although missing the emotional influence of season 2) and the fun of watching the Hawkins crew flip into adults in entrance of our very eyes (albeit doubtlessly at the price of their close-knit friendship), Stranger Issues season Three seems to be a welcome return for Netflix’s fashionable sci-fi horror sequence. It is made a bit extra particular by the truth that it spent practically two years off air. Stranger Issues season Three will launch July four on Netflix. Source link

[lightsupinthenorth]

Just a Harringrove ficlet I couldn’t get out of my mind. 

Read on AO3

*

Ever since he had been drugged by the Russians, Steve could sometimes hear people’s thoughts. He couldn’t control it, and it didn’t happen all that often, but it was becoming more and more frequent. It had freaked him out, at first, and now it just made him miserable. He wished it would just stop.

Really, he didn’t need to hear Keith insulting his intelligence (he did that out loud plenty enough), or his father thinking about his latest affair at the breakfast table (the rare times Steve’s parents bothered to show up in their own house), or, God forbid, Karen Wheeler daydreaming about Billy (gross).

Speaking about Billy. He was the first (and hopefully the last) to find out about Steve’s newly found ability (if you could even call it that, considering he had no control over it whatsoever). Steve had not been planning on telling him. In fact, he had been adamant about not telling anyone.

No one would want to hang out with someone who could see inside their head, and Steve didn’t know what he’d do if his friends stopped hanging out with him. His life sucked enough as it was, he didn’t want to end up completely alone in addition to that.

Billy and Steve had become friends after the whole Starcourt debacle. Steve had visited him pretty much every day when he was in the hospital. The accident had changed him a lot, either that or it had made the real Billy stop hiding behind his anger.

He had been wary of Steve and his intentions, in the beginning, but he had warmed up to him soon enough, and nowadays they spent a lot of time together. He had developed a huge crush on Billy along the way, too. That probably explained why Steve had let his guard down enough to slip up in his presence.

They had been in Steve’s kitchen, eating the dinner Steve had spent most of the evening cooking.

Billy had said “Damn, that’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

And Steve had asked: “Wow, thanks. You really think so?”

Billy had stopped eating and had stared at Steve, wide-eyed, completely frozen in place. That was how Steve had realized Billy had actually not spoken, but rather thought, his compliment. Oops.

“What the fuck, Steve?” Billy had finally asked, finding his voice again. He hadn’t really sounded angry, but that had done nothing to reassure Steve, who’d started panicking.

“What…? I… uh…” He had searched his brain for a believable lie, but had come up empty. Stupid, he was so stupid! He had felt like crying.

“Steve, come on, breathe.” Billy had told him, putting a hand on his over the table.

When Steve had finally calmed down, Billy had asked: “what was that about?” and Steve had told him the truth, nervous but relieved to finally admit it to someone.

“I… can’t control it or anything… It’s just… I hear what people think, sometimes…”

“Does it happen often?”

“Not really. It’s the first time I hear anything from you, in fact.”

“Oh… so, you can’t hear any of what I’m thinking right now?”

“No. Not a thing.”

“Okay.”

Billy had seemed to take it in stride. It must only have been a façade, though, because after that evening, he had started ignoring Steve.

Steve would still see him around, sometimes, because Hawkins was a small town and they kept driving the kids around everywhere, so they were bound to cross paths. Billy was civil every time, but he never talked to Steve for long, always finding an excuse to leave quickly. And Steve might had been dumb, but he wasn’t THAT dumb. He knew Billy didn’t want to be around him anymore because of the intermittent telepathy. He thought Steve was a freak and wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

Steve did his best to appear unbothered around the kids, but the end of his friendship with Billy had hit him hard. He had accepted since the beginning that they wouldn’t ever be more than friends, but now they weren’t even that anymore, and it hurt. Steve felt abandoned, and he spent many evenings on Robin’s couch, crying in a pint of ice-cream. He was pathetic, and if he didn’t get it together again soon, Robin would stop hanging out with him to.

Also, she kept asking him why Billy and he didn’t spend time together anymore, but Steve stayed vague. At first, he had wondered if maybe Robin was experiencing the same problem as he was, but when he had finally asked her if she was suffering any side effect from the Russian drug, she had answered in the negative. Unfortunately, it had led to her returning Steve the question. Of course, it had. So, he had lied, saying that sometimes he didn’t want to tell the truth but couldn’t help but tell it anyway.

No one else could find out about the telepathy. He wouldn’t be able to deal with Robin leaving him too, or the kids looking at him like he was some freaky science experiment. There was a chance they’d like it. They were weird like that. But Steve wanted to be their friend, not their science project.

He heard their worried thoughts about him often, these days, but he didn’t do anything about it. He felt bad about preferring to keep his secret over reassuring the kids, but he just… he just couldn’t bring himself to tell them.

“Why are you and Billy not hanging out anymore?” After Robin’s insistent questioning had finally stopped, Max was taking over. Just Steve’s luck.

“We’ve just been busy with our own stuff.”

And wasn’t that the worst lie ever? As if Max didn’t know Steve was doing jack-shit beside going to his boring work and spending evenings at Robin’s.

She rolled his eyes but didn’t reply. Steve still heard her think “ugh, boys are dumb”, and “I’m gonna kill my brother”, though.

He nearly yelled at her not to mention anything to Billy but stopped himself right on time.

A few hours after he had dropped Max at her house, there was a knock on his front door. Steve was moping on the couch, curled in a ball, in front of a shitty talk-show he wasn’t paying any mind to. He was planning on ignoring whoever was at the door, but the person wouldn’t quit and kept banging on his door. Honestly, what the fuck. He had a doorbell.

“Harrington, I can see your car in the driveway. I know you’re here. Open the fucking door. Please.”

The please was added as an afterthought but coming from Billy it still meant a lot.

And fuck. What was he doing here? Max had talked to him, hadn’t she? Maybe Billy had told her Steve’s secret. And maybe she would tell the other kids. Oh God, no one would want to see Steve anymore.

It didn’t explain why Billy had come here, though. It could have been to beat Steve’s face in for being a freak, but somehow that didn’t make sense. Billy wasn’t like that anymore. Plus, why wouldn’t he have done that sooner? He had known about Steve for weeks.

Steve opened the door, trying to appear calm.

“Hey… can I come in?” Billy asked.

Steve nodded and stepped aside. They went to the living room but neither of them sat down.

“Look Steve, I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. That wasn’t… that wasn’t what he had been expecting.

“I freaked out… about what you told me the other night. I just… I was afraid you would hear what I think about you. But that doesn’t excuse what I did. I shouldn’t have just started ignoring you like that. I should have told you the truth. I was a coward and I’m sorry.”

What did Billy mean? Had he never liked Steve? Had he just been tolerating his presence all along? It had to be it… why wouldn’t he have wanted Steve to hear his thoughts if they had been positive?

It sadly made sense… Steve had been the one initiating their friendship, after all.

“Oh… well… Thanks for apologizing. And yeah, you should have talked to me, and you didn’t have to spend all this time with me if you didn’t feel like it. It was nice of you to try, though.” Steve rambled, fidgeting with his hands.

“Hey, hey, Steve, what the hell are you on about?”

“Well, you obviously never wanted us to be friends, but you played along for my benefit. It’s fine, I get it”

“Uh uh, sorry but no, pretty boy, you don’t ‘get it’. You’re getting it all wrong.”

Steve dropped his gaze. Of course he was getting all wrong. He was stupid.  

“Steve, listen to me, please.”

Something in Billy’s tone made Steve look up again.

“I didn’t want you to hear what I think about you because… because I have feelings for you… the romantic kind, I mean. So, I fled, because you obviously don’t feel the same way, and I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. But hey, would you look at that, I ended up ruining it anyway.”

Billy laughed self-depreciatingly.

“Now, you’re the one getting it all wrong Billy.” Steve said, his expression not giving away anything.

“You mean you still want to be friends?” he looked as hopeful as surprised.

“No, I don’t want to be friends.”

Billy’s face fell, and that just would not do, so Steve took the two strides separating him from Billy and pulled him by the collar of his shirt until their lips collided. Billy moaned, either from the surprise or the kiss or a bit of both. And when they settled in Steve’s bed later on, cuddling together, and that Billy thought “Fuck, I love him so much”, Steve decided that the telepathy might not have been the worst thing to happen to him.

 *

This was super rushed, I hope it didn’t suck too much

#Harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Harringrove ficlet #Stranger Things #Angst #hurt and comfort #fluff #self-depreciating thoughts from Steve #Max Mayfield #Robin Buckley #Steve's POV

[staticscreenwriting]

Until we say goodbye || one.

Warning! This multipart story takes place after the events of season 3. There’s huge spoilers already in the synopsis down below. I warned you.

Synopsis: (Y/N) Hargrove has to come to terms with the fact that her twin brother is dead and she had to watch him die, unable to do anything about it. There is something she can do for him now though and that’s keeping a promise. The promise to go back home to California. Together. In order to drive cross country and spread Billy’s ashes in a place where the Hargrove kids used to be happy, (Y/N) enlists the help of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who decides that it’s time to break out from his parents expectations and be the person he always wanted to be.

This time on “Until we say goodbye”: Steve offers his help only he didn’t realise that meant going on a road trip with a girl he’s talked to like twice and a dead boy’s ashes. 

(caution: mention of death, emotional abuse, slight mention of physical abuse, mention of alcohol // if you need me to tag any other possible triggers let me know)

Part 1 of ?

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please. Tried to edit out all mistakes it but it’s almost 1 in the mornig and I  am tired.]

And if we hit on troubled water

I'll be the one to keep you warm and safe

And we'll be carrying each other

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

Rain is pattering down on the roof of his car as Steve Harrington drives down the familiar roads of Hawkins Indiana. Days are getting shorter and nights are getting colder and the town seems to be stuck under an all consuming downpour for the last few weeks. 

Maybe, Steve thinks, it isn’t all that bad. The hot summer days of 1985 have left more people traumatized than anyone can really fathom. Maybe the rain can wash it all away. The summer and the bad memories and the hurt. 

As his car stops in front of the small house on Cherry Lane, he realizes that that is just wishful thinking and even with the summer gone, the trauma is gonna stay for a long time. There’s a car parked in front. Hardly a car anymore. It’s bent chrome and dented metal. And then there’s a girl sitting on the porch , cigarette dangling from her fingertips, watching the trashed car and the rain.

(Y/N) Hargrove has her twin brothers perpetual scowl. He wonders if it’s always been this prominent of if the events of July 4th only made it worse. 

She had been there, had to watch her twin brother die. Steve wasn’t there. Not inside at least and for that he is entirely grateful. He’s seen his fair share of unexplainable, horrible things over the last 3 years, seeing a person die right in front of him is not something he wants to add to the list. 

There’s no way for him to even imagine what (Y/N) is going through. What has happened to Barb is as close as he has ever gotten to death and though that left him unable to ever use his own pool again, he still feels a certain kind of disconnect to it. Like it is something that happened in another life. Like he is watching all of it through a tv screen.

Max had been unusually quiet for a while after the events of Starcourt. Talked very little, laughed very little. Though the times she accompanied Dustin on a trip to the video store recently, Steve could see her slowly getting better. 

(Y/N) though, by the looks of it there is no getting better happening there anytime soon..

Steve keeps watching her for a moment. He wonders if he ever actually talked to her before. More than a hey or a greeting at scoops. She’s in Nancy’s year, just like Billy was. Wherever he went, she did too. It was like they came two at the price of one. And perhaps that was just a twin thing. Or maybe it was a Hargrove thing. 

Steve’s sight falls back towards his passenger seat and the reason he’s here in the first place. It’s not to watch the sad girl, it’s to return her sister’s wallet.

Ever since Steve has started working at the video store, the party has invited themselves to use the back room as their own private movie theatre, watching whatever new releases would come into stores before it was even put onto the shelves. Keith doesn’t give a shit as long as they clean up after themselves and Steve and Robin, though they will never admit it out loud, do kind of enjoy spending time with the kids.

Max and Lucas had been around all day, trying to escape the rain and Dustin’s swooning over Suzie which got more and more insufferable for the teenagers recently. Steve had sat with them for a while until Max glanced towards the clock that hangs above the door and jumped up like she was hit by lightning, mumbling something about how she should’ve been home hours ago before rushing through the door and out the shop, quickly followed by her boyfriend. Her wallet left behind.

Grabbing Max’s stuff from the passenger seat, Steve gets out of the car and rushes towards the tiny house, rain pouring down on him and soaking his jacket before he can take cover under the porch roof.

(Y/N) looks up at him, seemingly just now noticing another person in her close proximity. 

“ Harrington ? “ 

He’s used to being called by his last name by one of the Hargrove twins, though it usually came out in a gruff voice laced with an underlying challenge. A silent trial on how far Steve’s boundaries could be pushed until he would snap. 

To say that Steve never really liked Billy would be an understatement, and yet whenever he looks at Max or (Y/N) he wishes that things would’ve turned out differently for the Hargrove boy.

When (Y/N) says his name, there’s no hatred in it, no disdain. All there is is confusion and sadness. All consuming, overwhelming sadness. 

“ Hi, I uh — Max left her wallet at the video store. “ 

“ Why are you hanging out with my sister ? “ she asks and raises her eyebrow in confusion. Steve can just make out how red and glassy her eyes are, how tired she looks.

“ I don’t. I mean she hangs out at my workplace. Not just her but like — her and the other kids. They watch movies. “ 

For a second she just watches him. She sizes him up like she’s not really sure what to expect, what to make of his words. Steve knows that the friendship he has with those kids is unusual but that doesn’t mean he feels ashamed of it. They fought intergalactical monsters together, you don’t just got your separate ways after that. These kids, these families, they are his extended families now and no time passing is gonna change anything about that. 

“ Alright. “ she just nods, taking a drag from the cigarette and slowly blowing the smoke into the air. “ Max ain’t home though. She went to Lucas’ place for dinner. Just came home to let us know she wasn’t dead and then left again. It’s really — it’s not a good time right now “. 

When she looks up at him, he once again notices just how tired she looks. Like she’s on that line between being asleep and being awake. Her looks, her movements, everything seems to be in slow motion, as if moving at a normal speed takes too much strength. A strength she can’t muster up. 

There’s dark shadows under her eyes and Steve isn’t sure but he thinks he can just about make up the fading hues of a bruise on her cheek. Bruises heal though, right ? It’s been months since the night at Starcourt, this fading bruise can’t be a product of those events. 

Then again, maybe it’s not a bruise at all maybe it’s just —

“ Harrington ? Have I lost you or something ? “ 

“ Oh uh — sorry. Can I leave her stuff with you ? “ 

“ Sure whatever, as long as you get outta here then. “ 

Steve doesn’t really understand the hostility. Sure they aren’t friends, never have been, but there’s no reason for her to be snappy and rude. 

As he’s about to hand the stuff to her, there’s a commotion coming from the house. A deep voice yelling expletives as if they were cheers on a football field.  There’s banging and shouting and the smashing of a glass object against the wall. 

To his right, the girl flinches with every noise coming from the house. She looks straight ahead at the rain seemingly focusing on the individual drops as they smash to the ground. But Steve notices her hand that doesn’t hold on to the cigarette stub. The hand that’s nervously fisting the fabric of her pants, holding onto it as if it’s a lifeline keeping her afloat. 

“ Are you alright ? “ he asks, about to lean down to her level when the door swings open with a fury and a box is forcefully slammed down on the porch beside her. 

“ I told you to figure out what to do with his shit weeks ago, why do these fucking boxes still take up our entire fucking house, huh ? I almost fucking fell because I ran into on. If you don’t move his shit I’ll throw it all in the trash. I swear to god, (Y/N). “ 

Through the patter of the rain cuts a voice that’s deep and loud and tinted in anger not unlike the one that always seemed to lace Billy’s words. Only these words leave the mouth of a grown adult and that makes the anger a million times more scary. It makes them more real. More palpable. 

The voice belongs to a tall, short haired man with piercing blue eyes. They look cold and void of any comfort or hospitality. His lips are pulled into an ugly snarl only accentuated by his thick mustache. He looks like a cross between some big burly military guy and a lumberjack, with his military boots and his dirty greyish green flannel shirt. 

As the cold eyes glance towards Steve, it feels as if a cold shiver runs down his spine. Those are not the eyes of a loving father. 

“ Who are you ? “ 

“ Steve Harrington, sir. “ 

“ Are we inviting friend now with no warning no nothing ? Huh, (Y/N) ? “ 

She doesn’t look up at what Steve assumes is her father, just keeps focusing on the rain and the cigarette in her hand.

“ He’s not my friend “ she mumbles with a voice so faint, so quiet, Steve almost doesn’t catch her words at all.

“ Oh no ? Well then that makes me wonder ever more what in the world he’s doing here. “ 

Though the man’s question pertain him, none of them are directed at Steve, they are all directed towards the girl sitting on the porch, curling in on herself further and further with every word spoken. 

“ Max lost her wallet, Harrington’s just bringing it around. “ 

He takes that as his cue to insert himself into the conversation.

“ That’s right. I thought I should bring it by she probably needs it so — here you go, “ he says and holds it out towards the man only for him to snatch it from his hands.

“ Well would you look at that, “ the man sneers and once again disregards Steve completely in order to focus on his clearly distressed daughter “ good honorable young men still exist. Now if only I could’ve raised one. “ 

It’s clearly a dig towards Billy. His son. His recently deceased son. Steve feels incredibly uncomfortable and extremely shocked as he listens to the man talk like that about the one person he was supposed to love unconditionally. 

He’s fairly sure that Mr. Hargrove doesn’t know the full story of what happened, hell how would anyone explain this to a person who wasn’t there ? But just the fact that Billy died, that his teenage son died, should be enough to make him feel remorseful, to make him not talk like this about Billy. 

“ Steve was just about to leave dad. Right, Steve ? “ (Y/N) says and for the first time since the man has stepped out on the porch, she takes her eyes off of the falling rain and glances towards Steve. It’s the first time she’s called him by his first name and in her voice there’s an underlying urgency only reinforced by the same desperation cleary mirrored in her eyes.

Every fiber of his body screams at him not to leave, to stick by her side in this moment of clear distress. Steve Harrington doesn’t think of himself as a hero by any means but there’s moments in his life where he knows what’s the right thing to do. This is one of them and the right thing is to stand his ground and not ignore the sad girl being emotionally broken down by her own father. But sometimes the right thing isn’t the easy thing. Sometimes the right thing is very scary and it asks for a lot of bravery, a lot of guts. Sometimes it’s fighting other people’s fights. 

And how is he supposed to do that when he can’t even fight his own ? 

“ Right, Steve ? “ she repeats, louder this time. Her eyes are pleading now. 

“ I uh — yeah. Sure. “ he stumbles over his words as his heart struggles with his decision.

Sometimes the right thing is too much to handle. Sometimes he’s not brave enough.

“ Have a good evening and — (Y/N) if you ever need something, let me know “.

As he said before, he’s not a hero. He’s just a boy. Just Steve Harrington. 

So he walks back towards his car, rain still pouring down on him. And as he sits down in his car and looks back towards the house, the girl is alone again and she’s still crying but now there’s a box of things next to her. A box of things that belong to just a boy who never got the chance to be a man.

                               Some 1950’s record is playing over his dad’s fancy record player as Steve sits at the dining table, pushing the food from one side of the plate to the other. It’s been a while since the last proper family dinner. Usually Steve just gets some food on the way home from work. It’s probably less healthy than a home cooked meal but it means that he doesn’t have to sit at the table with his mom in awkward silence until they’ve both gulped down their dinner and can go their separate ways. 

But today dad’s home from a business trip and whenever that happens, no matter how rare those occasions are, mom makes a big deal out of sitting them all down for a proper family dinner. 

Steve has hated them since he was a kid. It’s awkward and uncomfortable and it always ends up with a fight. Most of the time between him and his dad and that usually makes mom cry and drink yet another glass of red wine which then in return makes his dad angry and yell at his mother and thus begins a never ending circle of fights and accusations.

There so many secrets at this dinner table. They’re hidden in plain sight, clearly visible to all the people involved and yet no one dares to address them. Because addressing them would set of a metaphorical nuclear bomb ready to destroy everything and everyone.

“ So, Steve — “ his dad starts and washes down his mother’s dry meatloaf with a sip of white wine, no doubt some expensive french concoction. “ a video store, eh ? That’ interesting. “ 

It’s not. They both know this just well. It’s just his father's eloquent way of leading into yet another talk about how unreliable, irresponsible and viciously disappointing Steve is in his eyes.

It used to hurt back in the day, now Steve is so used to it he hardly pays it any more attention than he would to a music jingle on a tv commercial. You kinda know how it goes after the third time.

“ Mmh. Sure it is. “ 

“ Steve works there with a girl. Her name is Robin. She’s the Buckley’s little girl “.

“ Is that true ? Oh her father Collin always talks so highly of her. Very smart from what I hear. She sounds like quite the catch “.

Oh no. Even worse than his parents scolding him for his job or his supposedly bad decisions, is his parents trying to set him up with someone. They’ve been through this countless of times before. As soon as Steve had started to show interest in girls they had brought up all the single daughters of their friends in conversation, trying to seem casual. Only Steve doubts his parents even know what being casual means.

“ Yep, she’s nice. We’re friends “ 

He’s fairly sure that the emphasis on friends is not gonna stop his parents but it’s worth a try really.

“ Friends yeah yeah. That’s how it always starts, right John ? “ his mom says and throws a saccharine fake smile at his dad. 

It’s hard to imagine his parents ever being in love. Like really properly in love. What they have now, it’s very convenient to them both. Dad owns a business which means his paycheck ain’t all that bad and mom is charming and a good talker, she knows how to get on the good side of dad’s partners. But Steve wonders if they really ever loved each other like the people do in movies. Like he loved Nancy. The love that makes you crazy in the head and in the heart. 

He wonders if his parents had planned this. To live in a picture perfect one family home with dad hardly being around and mom spending most her time at the country club sipping wine and gossiping while their only son works at the local video store. 

Did they ever have bigger dreams than this ? To see the world together and go on adventures and do — things people do when they’re in love ? 

He doubts it. His dad is a very matter of fact guy. He’s pragmatic and stoic and probably the least romantic person he can think of. And mom she’s — used to it, he thinks. Used to the man she’s married, may it have been for love or convenience.

“ Robin and I are just friends mom, that’s all there’s ever gonna be. “ 

While those words stung the first time they really set it back in that dirty toilet cubicle, they don’t do that now. Now he’s just happy to have a friend that gets him and cherishes him for who he is. And the fact that she isn’t a literal kid is also a plus. 

“ Oh well, if only you hadn't blown your chance with the Wheeler girl. I’m sure that would’ve been a nice future. She was good for you, son. She probably would’ve set you straight. Go to college together. “

Steve is pretty sure his dad doesn’t remember Nancy’s name which is why he always goes back to referring to her as “the wheeler girl”. His dad knows Nancy’s parents and so that name he can remember but he’s never really paid much attention to what Steve has told him about Nancy. Whatever Steve was talking about never seemed to be important enough to fully listen. To show any kind of interest. 

“ I didn’t blow it, dad “.

“ Sure you didn’t. I mean it surely wasn’t because she has perspectives for the future and you — “ 

At his father’s words Steve just lazily rolls his eyes. All words on this topic have been spoken countless times before there’s no need to say them again. Over and over again.

“ Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man. I’m just concerned “

Yeah concerned that his perfect nuclear family won’t seem to perfect anymore to his friends and colleagues and all the fancy people in fancy suits and dresses who drink fancy wine from fancy glasses and pretend like there’s no problems in the world worse than their cancelled spa appointment. 

If only he could tell his parents about everything. About Barb and the Demodogs. About Starcourt. Maybe they’d go easier on him. Maybe then they would understand. 

But how could he? How can he make them believe this story that, had he not been there, he wouldn’t believe either.

He can’t. So he’ll just have to live with the trauma and let his father’s words bounce off of him.

“ So, “ his mom chirps up “ anyone want some dessert ? “ 

“ No, mom I — “ 

But Steve doesn’t get to finish his sentence as the ringing doorbell echoing through the house interrupts him. Taking the distraction for a blessing, Steve rushes towards the door calling a “I’ll get it” as he goes.

Sometimes, he thinks, God or whatever higher power there is, does answer your silent prayers. Even if all you’re praying for is a chance to get the fuck outta here.

As he swings open the door, he’s expecting one of the neighbours. Mrs. Connelly loses one of the 3 cats every other day and runs around the neighbourhood looking for it. Or maybe it’s Clarice Holden who loved to gossip with his mother.

But no, it’s neither of them.

Before him stands, ever present scowl on her face, (Y/N) Hargrove. Where earlier today there was urgency in her eyes, now they’re filled with uncertainty. Her arms are crossed and she’s nervously tapping her foot on the ground. 

“ Hi ? “ 

“ Harrington, I need your help “ she says, sounding out of breath. Her cheeks are flushed and her breath seems rugged. Did she run here ? 

“ Okay, with what exactly ? “ 

“ I need you to drive me to California. “

Steve’s first reaction is to laugh. A deep hard belly laugh. But as his eyes find her face again, he can see no sign of a joke. There’s an unshakable seriousness about her which tells him that this is not a joke. This is real.

“ I’m sorry, what ? “ 

“ Drive me to California so I can spread Billy’s ashes there “.

At those words he notices for the first time, the big duffel bag on the floor by her feet and the Star Wars thermos sticking out from it.

“ Please tell me that’s not him in there. “

“ You want me to lie ? “ 

“ You are insane. “ 

“ What, why ? “ 

“ You come to my house when we’ve talked about twice in the entire time you’ve been living here. You ask me to drive you to California, which if I may remind you is pretty much on the other side of the country. And above all else, you carry your brother’s ashes around in a Star Wars thermos mug ? “

“ He really liked that one when we were younger and also you told me to come to you when I needed something. And I really need help here .” 

Steve feels like he’s on a tv show. One that tries to prank the contestants in various ridiculous ways. With pranks so unbelievable you wonder how those people don’t notice they are being pranked. This can’t be real, right ? This is not something people ask you to do when you’ve only talked a few times. Right ? Right ? 

“ I was thinking more along the lines of a shoulder to cry on not — not this “ Steve exclaims nodding towards her bag and the thermos.

“ Well you didn’t clarify. “ 

“ Geez, I didn’t know I had to. Can’t your dad take you ? I mean, wouldn’t he want to be there? “ 

Her face falls and for a moment Steve hates himself for even asking this question. He’s seen her dad, experienced how lovely he is. What a dumb question. A guy who mocks his own dead son surely doesn’t want to drive cross country to spread his ashes.

“ I don’t want my dad to take me. Look Steve. I was there and I had to watch — I had to watch it happen. I couldn’t do anything then but I can do something now. I can bring him somewhere where maybe he won’t rest peacefully but he will rest in a place he used to be happy. Where we used to be the happiest we’ve ever been. I had to steal he ashes from that ugly golden urn that stands on the side table in the living room of a house he hated in a town he hated with people he couldn’t stand. I get the chance to leave after High School. I don’t want him to have to stay. I couldn’t save him then but I can save him now. “ (Y/N) explains and takes a big breath before continuing “ I have 52 dollars and 85 cents. I have a bunch of records to listen to on the road and I really — really need to do this. Please it’s all I can do. “ 

There’s tears building in her eyes threatening to fall any second. Her need to do this, to bring Billy home is all consuming and almost palpable in the air around her. But why would she ask Steve, why him ? He’s not a hero, he didn’t even particularly like Billy. Why him ?

“ Why do you want me to take you ? “ 

“ Because I don’t have a car, the Camaro is — well you know. But mostly and most importantly because you were the first person to care. “ 

And at that, he can’t say no. Maybe earlier wasn’t his moment to be brave and heroic, to do the right thing. Maybe this is.

He can hear his parents bickering from the dining room, can just make out his name and the word “ hopeless “.

Maybe they are right, really. Maybe he is a hopeless cause. College might never be in the cards for him and hey maybe he will end up 45 and still working at the video store but if so, he will do it on his own terms. 

He will be his own person. One that’s went through trials and tribulations and has experienced things that no person ever should. And he will be the person that decided that night to be a hero and take a sad girl across the country to bring her brother home and mend her broken heart, even if just a tiny little bit.

“ Okay look, load your stuff into my car and meet me at the gas station in about 15 minutes. I gotta pack some stuff and we’re gonna be on the road for a while so we will need to stock up on snacks. “ 

“ 15 minutes “ 

“ Gimme 15 and I’ll be there. “ 

“ You promise ? “ 

“ I promise. “ 

And Steve Harrington never breaks a promise. 

He watches (Y/N) load her stuff into his car then closes the front door and peaks into the hallway. His parents have resorted to the living room, lounging on the couch watching family feud or some shit like that. They’ll most likely start fighting about the show anytime soon and how much better they’d do if they were called on. Which usually annoys Steve to no end but now works perfectly for what he is about to do.

Rushing upstairs, Steve enters his parents room, pulls open the second drawer from the top of the old wooden wardrobe and pushes away all of his mother’s socks and tights until he reaches the very back of the drawer. He fumbles around for a moment until his hand grabs onto what he’s actually looking for. 

The egg shaped container has been hidden there for most of Steve’s life. Mom doesn’t know that he knows about it. Doesn’t know that at least one of the Harrington men is fully aware that the little egg is not used to store pantihose but money for “bad times”. 

Steve pulls it open and starts counting. 465 dollars. 

465 bucks his mom probably would’ve ended up using for yet another trip to the hairdresser or some fancy ass wine from somewhere in italy. 

Those 465 bucks were stored there for “bad times” and if this isn’t a bad time, Steve doesn’t know what is. It was never specified it has to be a bad time for the Harringtons.

Stuffing the bills into his wallet, Steve places the now empty egg back where it came from and quickly puts everything back as it has been before, moving on the his room. There’s a duffel bag under his bed that he pulls out and fills with clothes and other necessities. A glance at the clock tells him he’s got only 5 more minutes and he doesn’t want to let (Y/N) wait. 15 minutes. He promised. 

After dropping the duffel bag out the upper hallway window and onto the front yard, Steve runs back down and sticks his head through the open door to the living room.

“ Hey guys, funny story that was Robin, someone’s causing a scene at the video store and they refuse to leave. Keith sent her to get backup so, gotta go. “ 

“ Now ? “ his mom questions.

“ They called for YOU for backup ? “ his dad ask incredulously. 

If only he could tell his dad that he just recently won a fight against a trained russian guard, maybe then he’d be taken seriously in this goddamn household.

But he can’t tell him. Never.

So again he swallows his pride and calls out a “ I’ll be back “ to his parents before picking up his bag from the lawn and  getting into his car. He will be back, it’s not even a lie per say. He just doesn’t specify when he’ll be back.

Starting the car Steve throws one last look back towards his house. The place he’s grown up in. Where all he is ever going to be is a disappointment. 

Maybe it is time to leave it behind and be someone else. Someone better. Some kind of hero.

                              (Y/N) sits on the curb by the entrance to the gas station. A light drizzle has started up again and she’s watching the pink hues of the neon signs being reflected in the puddles slowly accumulating in the cracks on the asphalt. 

Her gaze wanders towards the thermos cup resting next to her. If this was any other person, any other situation, this would be quite comical. Wouldn’t it ? Ashes in a Star Wars mug. Only there’s nothing funny about this. There’s just sadness there and pain. 

She wonders if her dad has noticed by now, that she’s gone. Wonders if he’s seen the ugly urn smashed on the living room floor. She wonders if he’s noticed that all of Billy’s personal stuff is gone. She wonders if he even really cares.

Taking the thermos into her hands she closes her eyes and lets the words leave her lips. 

“ Hey B. I — I’m sorry I put you into this mug but it was the only thing I could find that was safe to take on a road trip and not spill half of you. I hope you’ll forgive me for that. And for asking Harrington to take me to San Diego. I know you don’t like him but I — he is the only one who seems to care. The only one who asked if I was alright. “ 

She takes a long breath, willing for the tears to stay at bay. Crying is all she seems to do lately.

“ I promised you we’d go back, didn’t I ? I just wish I could’ve been different. God I miss you so much, B. Why did it have to be you, huh ? “ 

Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her, of Billy’s, denim jacket, she places the thermos back inside her bag. “ god I need to stop talking to inanimate objects. People are gonna think I’m going insane.. “ 

The headlights of a car suddenly illuminate the parking space before the vehicle comes to a screeching halt. A figure steps out, walks closer, closer. 

“ Steve ? “ 

“ Uh yeah ? “ 

“ You came ! “

“ Yeah, I promised I would “.

And for the first time in a long time, (Y/N) feels like hint of a smile tug on corners of her lips. 

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington reader #hargrove!reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

[staticscreenwriting]

Until we say goodbye || two

Warning! This multipart story takes place after the events of season 3. There’s huge spoilers already in the synopsis down below. I warned you.

Synopsis: (Y/N) Hargrove has to come to terms with the fact that her twin brother is dead and she had to watch him die, unable to do anything about it. There is something she can do for him now though and that’s keeping a promise. The promise to go back home to California. Together. In order to drive cross country and spread Billy’s ashes in a place where the Hargrove kids used to be happy, (Y/N) enlists the help of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who decides that it’s time to break out from his parents expectations and be the person he always wanted to be.

This time on “Until we say goodbye”: The teens stay at a quirky motel. Steve talks to mama Harrington and (Y/N) give us a look into her childhood.

(caution: mention of death, emotional abuse, slight mention of physical abuse, mention of alcohol // if you need me to tag any other possible triggers let me know)

One // 

Part 2 of ?

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Help a girl out with a reblog, thank you ♥

And if we hit on troubled water

I’ll be the one to keep you warm and safe

And we’ll be carrying each other

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

A cool breeze is blowing past (Y/N) as she sits on edge of the old abandoned lifeguard tower, feet dangling in the air. She’s well aware of the fact that the wind is making a mess of her hair, leaving it a tangled mess. She doesn’t really give a shit though.

The beach is practically deserted except for her and the couple strolling by the shore, throwing sticks for their puppy every once in a while. They seem so happy, as if nothing matters but them and their dog and the ocean.

Her thoughts wander towards Pumpkin, the little Jack Russell puppy they adopted a few years ago when dad was dating this woman named Laura. Laura loved dogs and dad loved Laura and so when she moved in, so did Pumpkin.

(Y/N) loved that stupid dog, hell even Billy did. But like all good things in the Hargrove’s life, this one didn’t last very long either. Dad messed up his relationship with Laura and Laura was smart enough to get the fuck out and take Pumpkin with her. 

The thumping of boots against the wooden planks of the lifeguard tower, pulls (Y/N) back from her trip down memory lane. 

Billy plops down next to her, fumbling a cigarette from the pocket of his denim jacket and lighting it. He’s started smoking a few months ago, just after the twins 13th birthday. Dad was really mad when he found that first cigarette hole in the carpet of their room. 

“ Why are you here ? ‘s about to storm “ Billy mumbles around the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips.

“ Dad’s being as asshole “ 

“ As per usual “ Billy scoffs, “ what happened ? “ 

“ He found out that I pierced my ears, said I look like a slut. “ 

The words still sting even now that she repeats them to her brother. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s something a father should say, especially to his daughter. It’s just earrings, what’s the big deal ? 

It doesn’t make her a slut. Right ? 

“ What the fuck does he know. He still lives in 1971 with his ugly ass mustache“ Billy jokes, effectively getting a laugh from his twin sister. 

“ You know what the worst part is ? “ (Y/N) asks.

“ Hmm ? “ 

“ I think my ears might be infected. They burn like hell. “ 

“ Ya know what ? That’s your own damn fault. I told you using Galliano liqueur was not the best way to sanitize the needle. “ 

(Y/N) chuckles, nodding her head in agreement. “ Yeah, you were right, I admit it “.

“ Good. “ 

She turns to look at her brother. His hair is growing longer now, the curls sitting messily on his head reminding her of crashing waves during a thunderstorm.

Dad hates that Billy is growing his hair and and (Y/N) is fairly sure that’s part of the reason why Billy likes his hair so much. Everything that pisses off their dad is a good think in Billy’s book.

“ Still think you should’ve let me pierce one of your ears. Would’ve looked damn cool. “ she says, teasing smirk playing on her lips.

Billy shakes his head, curls bouncing from the motion. He’s mirroring her smirk though.

“ No fucking way. Never. “ 

(Y/N) finger plays with the tiny silver spike dangling from her ear as her eyes focus on the scenery passing by the window. There’s not a lot to see really, it’s almost pitch black outside. They’re on the road for about an hour and a half now but Steve keeps bringing up stopping.

He’s tired, (Y/N) can tell. Tired and still a bit freaked out by the whole situation.

“ So Terre Haute is coming up at I think we should see if we can find a place to stay the night, then stock up on food and gas tomorrow morning and drive through the entire day “.

Steve speaks up, more of a monologue than anything else. (Y/N) doesn’t mind how long the journey takes as long as they get to California in the end. She doesn’t mind stopping for the night. Doesn’t mind the occasional food or toilet breaks. Leaving Hawkins behind already feels liberating. 

Every mile they put between themselves and that fucking town feels like a weight lifted off her shoulder.

“ Alright, sounds good to me. We gotta find a cheap place though, I don’t have a lot of cash with me “.

“ S’alright I got it “ Steve exclaims.

“ I don’t need your charity, Harrington, “ (Y/N) snaps at him. Maybe it’s a Hargrove thing, being bad at accepting help from other people. From basically strangers.

For the biggest part of her life, (Y/N) only had Billy to depend on. Now that he’s gone it feels absolutely terrifying putting her trust in someone else.

“ Sorry I — that’s not what I meant. “ 

“ No, “ (Y/N) sighs “ I’m sorry for snapping. I know what you meant. It’s okay. “ 

There’s a thick awkward tension filling the car and (Y/N) absolutely hates it. 

“ Can I turn on the radio ? “ she asks motioning towards it. 

Steve nods in agreement. “ There should still be a mixtape in the player. “

With the push of a button the opening chords to Mötley Crües ‘Shout at the devil’ echo through the vehicle, making (Y/N) raise her eyebrows in surprise.

“ Steve Harrington, I did not expect you to listen to this kind of music “.

Steve just shrugs “ why not ? I like all kinds of music. “ 

“ Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ golden boy listening to the Devil’s music. That’s a surprise. “ 

“ Golden boy, “ Steve scoffs “ yeah right. I just about graduated High School. I didn’t get into college. I work at a video store and my own dad thinks I’m goddamn loser. “ 

“ You wanna talk about shitty dads ? Cause let me tell you, I’ll win that one. “ 

It’s quiet for a moment, before Steve clears his throat and speaks up again.

“ Can I ask you something ? “ 

“ Mmh “ 

“ What did they tell your dad happened ? Did they — did they really tell him that whole fire bullshit ? “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ And he believed it ? “ 

(Y/N) nods. “ He did. He has no reason not to “.

The fire story. Authorities told Neil and elaborate story about how Billy died in a tragic accident in the big fire at Starcourt mall. Something about wrong place wrong time.

(Y/N) was there when they told him. Susan was crying hysterically. Max was — numb. Neil though. Neil didn’t even flinch. There was no sign of emotion. No sign of grieve. Nothing. Nothing at all.

“ I don’t think he gives a shit either, to be honest. “ 

“ That’s horrible. “ Steve exclaims.

“ That’s my dad for ya. “ 

Steve’s BMW rolls up to the parking lot of the Cardinal Inn Motel. It’s a small Motel complex and it looks like it’s seen better days. The walls are a dirty white, almost gray color and all doors are painted a bright red although most of the paint is chipping off. 

The kids enter the motel lobby, a small room decked out in all kinds of kitschy decor. There’s cross stitch art and paintings and decorative throw pillows. And all if it proudly features various images of a red cardinal bird. 

“ Welcome to the Cardinal Inn Motel. “ a chipper voice speaks up from behind the reception desk. “ I’m Ruth, how can I help ya ? “ 

Ruth is a plump little woman with a kind smile, round cheeks and extremely curly ginger hair. She looks more like a caricature than an actual person. Though (Y/N) thinks she fits this place perfectly. 

“ We would like twooo — ? “ Steve trails off and glances towards (Y/N) in question.

“ One “ 

“ — one room. With two beds though “. 

“ Oh sure sure. Let me see. It’s 32 $ for a night. “ Ruth says and opens a book, probably looking up which rooms are occupied and which rooms are free. She walks towards a board holding a lot of keys and takes one of handing it to Steve.

“ This is your room key, It’s number 44. When you step outside, the room is located in the building to your right. It’s on the first floor, first door once you walk up the stairs. I would have to ask for a down payment though. Just in case. “ 

Steve hastily pulls out a bundle of cash from his jeans, counting the right amount and handing it to Ruth. “ That’s the entire amount, we’re only staying for one night “.

“ Very well then. I hope you have a pleasant stay at the Cardinal Inn. “ Ruth chirps almost like a bird herself.

“ Thanks “ Steve says and walks towards the door.

(Y/N) stays rooted though, eyes wandering around the room from one red bird to the next to the next. 

“ Hey Ruth, “ she chimes up.

“ Yes, dear ? “ 

“ What’s with the birds ? “

“ Oh the cardinal ? That’s Indiana’s state bird. “ 

“ They’re funky looking little guys, huh ? “ 

“ Truly. They’re also very interesting. If you want to learn about them, they’re an informational brochure in every room. “ 

(Y/N) gives Ruth a soft smile then rushes after Steve, out into the chilly night air.

“ Knight Rider, really Harrington ? “ 

Steve sits up from his slumped position on the bed as (Y/N) comes back from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in her pyjamas. A choice of pyjamas she thoroughly regrets now as the cool air inside the motel room hits the skin of her legs. 

She’s dressed in a pair of short red pj pants and one of Billy’s old band shirts. One she’s stolen from his closet after — the incident. It smells like him. Makes her feel like he’s still there.

“ What, It’s good. “ 

“ It’s so stupid. It’s a talking car. “ 

“ Okay, whatever. You keep on hating but I tell you this show is gonna last forever and it’s gonna win all the awards. Trust me. “ 

“ Mmmh. Sure. Shower’s yours. “ 

Steve gathers some of his stuff from his duffle bag and moves towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

As she is left alone in the room, the gravity of it all comes crashing down on (Y/N). This is it. That trip she wanted to go on with Billy. That trip they had fantasized about since the moment they left California. 

Now it’s happening but it doesn’t feel right. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. With Billy in a thermos. With Billy — dead.

The room suddenly feels too small. Like the walls are gonna close in on her any second now. She needs air. Fresh air. Needs to get out of here. Now. Now.

So she does.

Slips on her shoes and the room key and dashes out through the door and into the night. It’s cold. Way too cold for the amount of clothing she’s wearing or not wearing depending on how you see it. 

For a while all she does is walk up and down the road, wishing she had remembered to take her pack of smokes with her. 

When it gets too cold though, she spots a neon sign in one of the windows of the Lobby building. “Souvenirs”.

She wonders if all of those souvenirs have red birds on them.

They don’t. Most of them do, but not all of them. A lot of them display what she can only assume are important buildings of  the city of Terre Haute, Indiana.

(Y/N) remembers the few trips she used to take with her mom and Billy, when they were just little kids. Mom loved to take them to the little quirky little towns across the coast and the kids loved exploring them. Billy always got a postcard, from every single place. (Y/N) got keychains. She still has a box of them stuffed beneath her bed at home. 

Her eyes wander around the room before they fall onto a display of all kinds of different postcards. Most of them, as expected, have birds on them. Though there’s one that doesn’t. It says “Terre Haute” in big bold letters. It reminds her of the ones Billy used to get from those coastal towns. 

Greetings from … the few happy childhood memories she can remember.

(Y/N) takes the card over towards the reception, where Ruth greets her with another of her signature Ruth smiles. Kind and warm.

“ Hi, dear. “ 

“ Hi uh — I want to buy this postcard. I can’t find a price though, ah shit I left my money up in the room let me just — “ 

Before she can hurry towards her room though, Ruth stops her.

“ It’s okay, Darling. You can have it for free. “

“ Oh no, I —  “

“ Please. You asked about the birds that pretty much the most anyone has cared about this place in a while. Take it. I want you to have it. “ 

It’s kinda sad, (Y/N) thinks. That her just asking about those silly birds made Ruth this happy. That people pay so little attention to her adorably little bird room.

“ Thank you, Ruth. That is very sweet of you. And this place is adorable. “ 

“ Thank you, dear. Do you need a stamp for that ? “

(Y/N) sighs “ No. No I don’t. “ 

The Bean is a little diner at the edge of town looking out onto the Wabash River. It’s emitting a perpetual smell of coffee and waffles and breakfast food.

Steve is munching down an entire plate of eggs and bacon. Oh to have the metabolism of a teenage boy.

(Y/N) takes another sip of her black coffee, hoping that the caffeine is gonna help keep her awake and not get too tired during their drive. After all they plan on being on the road for the entire day.

The pancakes on her plate are long forgotten. She hasn’t really been feeling like eating since it all happened. It’s like she’s acting on power saving mode. Always tired. Always sad. Always working on half speed.

“ You should eat something. You need it. “ Steve remarks.

“ Are you flirting with me ? ” 

“ I uh — what ? “ 

“ Male cardinals feed females as part of their courtship ritual. A female’s partner bears total responsibility for satisfying her dietary needs. “ 

“ How do you know this ?  “

(Y/N) smiles and takes another sip of coffee “ my friend Ruth recommended me some interesting reading material “.

She doesn’t mention that the nightmares didn’t allow her much sleep and that she spent most of the night staying up reading the informational magazine. There’s things Steve just doesn’t need to know.

“ Alriiiight. “ Steve exclaims, eyebrows raised “ Hey, what’s that. You gonna send a card home ? “ he asks and motions towards the postcard she’d been scribbling on while he had been ordering their food.

“ Nah. Not really. This one’s for someone else “.

“ Alright … hey uh. I think I should call my parents “ 

She looks up from her cup at Steve’s words. This can’t be happening. She can’t go back home now. He can’t bail on her.

“ Harrington “ 

“ Don’t look at me like that, I’m not turning around and crawling back home. I just don’t want my mom to worry. I need her to know I’m safe. “ 

That’s right, Steve has a mom too, not just an asshole dad. A mom who cared and who worries and who loves. God it’s been so long since (Y/N) had one of those.

“ Okay, yeah. But um — can you not mention my name. I don’t want any news to get to my dad. “ 

“ Of course. Yeah, no worries.“ 

“ Thanks “.

Despite what Billy always said about him, Steve seems to be an alright guy after all. His hair’s ridiculous though.

It rings once, twice, three times before someone picks up.

“ Hello ? “

“ Mom, it’s me. “ 

“ Oh god Steve. Honey where are you I’m worried sick “. 

That sends a little pang to his heart. His mother is a nice lady, she loves him deeply and she doesn’t deserve for him to worry her like that. But this is something Steve has to do, if not for (Y/N) then for himself. 

“ I’m alright mom. I’m taking a friend on a — uh a roadtrip. “ 

“ A roadtrip ?” 

“ Yea. To uh — “ his mind wanders to Billy. “ We’re going to help her brother “.

“ Okay, well are you alright ? “

No. He hasn’t been alright in a long time. Since 1983 to be completely honest.

Maybe this trip is just what he needs. A way out. An escape. 

Steve leans his head against the payphone, taking a deep breath.

“ I don’t know, mom. But I’m safe and I need to just — just get away. “ 

“ Is this because of what happened with the Holland girl ? Or the mall ?“ 

Yes. All of it. If only she knew.

“ It’s just a lot lately. Can you just trust me in this, mom. That I’m doing what’s best for me ? “ 

His mother hesitates for a moment before clearing her throat.

“ Of course I do, sweet boy. But I am a mom and I do worry. I always will. “

It warms his heart. To know someone does care and someone does love him, no matter how much he messes up.

“ I know. I love you and I’ll be back soon. I promise. I just need to do this, for me.“ 

“ Be safe, Steve “ 

“ I will. “ 

Before he hangs up he can just about make out his father’s voice in the background, asking if “that’s him” and “what’s he messed up this time ? “

And it once again becomes crystal clear why getting on the road with (Y/N) is the best decision he’s made in a long time.

He walks back over to her, as she leans against his car chewing some bright pink bubble gum.

“ You ready to head out ? “

“ Yup. Your parents mad ? “

“ No. Surprisingly not. Mom just wants me to be safe. “ 

“ Aw little Stevie. How adorable. Anyway let’s go. “

As they both settle back in their seats, Steve slides the signature dark shades back onto his nose and turns towards (Y/N). 

“ Sooo, snacks ? “ 

“ Snacks “ she nods and throws him one of her signature smirks “ definitely need some twizzlers to survive this trip “.

 “ Happy Birthday to me “ a freshly 9 year old (Y/N) mumbles as she buries her feet in the warm sand. It’s almost time for the sun to set behind the horizon and color the sky in beautiful shades of reds and pinks and oranges.

For the last 8 years this has been a moment she has shared with her mom. Every birthday the two of them would come down to the beach and watch the sunset. Just them two.

Billy had the morning to spend alone with mom, going to the beach to catch some waves, and (Y/N) got to have the evening. 

They’d sit and talk for hours and hours and hours. About everything. The silliest things.

This year she hasn’t so much as called. As if neither (Y/N) nor Billy ever existed in her life.

Billy’s been grumpy all day, refusing to spend time with his sister and deciding to go hang out with some of those stupid boys from the neighbourhood that always call (Y/N) dumb names.

(Y/N) watches the sun lower itself as if to drown the light in the dark water of the ocean, when a little plastic bag lands next to her. Just a moment later Billy drops down onto the ground too.

“ Got you some candy. Twizzlers, your favorite “ 

“ Did you steal them ? “ 

“ No, dingus. I bought them with my own money. “ 

“ Good. Means I don’t have to feel guilty when eating them. “ 

It’s silent for a moment as they sit beside each other, watching the sunset.

“ Hey I’m sorry “ Billy whispers, as if speaking any louder would mean destroying the magic of the moment.

“ It’s okay. You’re sad. I’m sad too. “ 

“ I’m not sad “ he claims “ I’m angry. So angry. “ 

“ You can be sad and angry at the same time. They’re not mutually exclusive. “ 

“ Stop using big words. “ 

“ Sorry. “ 

Billy takes a big breath “ I’ve decide “ he exclaims “ that from this moment on I’ll missing her. If she doesn’t want to come home, doesn’t want to see us. Screw her. I don’t need her and neither do you. “ 

(Y/N) knows that’s absolute bullshit but she also knows that Billy has a certain way of coping with loss and sadness and maybe she doesn’t share his ways or understand them fully but she can respect them if it means he’s less angry and less sad.

“ Okay. “ 

“ We don’t need her because we have each other “ he says, placing his hand on hers “ right ? “

In that moment, little (Y/N) knows that whatever the world is gonna throw her way, it’s only half as bad with her twin brother by her side.

“ Of course. Always “ 

If only they had known how terribly short ‘always’ would turn out to be.

_________

tags:

@sargent-barnes // 

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic