#billy’s first kiss is with a girl but the second the one he counts is with a boy and his mama knows he’s gay also

[ickypuppi3]

billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.

he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”

billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.

and everything’s perfect. sort of.

they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.

billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”

those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.

when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.

billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-

turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.

it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.

billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.

it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.

pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.

he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.

says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”

#it got away from me i fear #billy has to live somewhere else at the start and then they move to california i don’t care he needs to be there with his mom for the #majority of the time he just has to #he Is california ! what else am i supposed to do here he needs it #makes hawkins that much worse #he’s best friends with argyle but he doesn’t get to say bye ! #billy’s first kiss is with a girl but the second the one he counts is with a boy and his mama knows he’s gay also #probably argyle if we’re being real #my words #billy hargrove #billy’s mom #harringrove #cw slurs #cw mental illness #spinning in circles i just need mamas boy billy and king steve so bad #mamas boy billy & king steve

[atrwriting]

kisses and other sweet things (part 2) -- billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

hey party people :) posting this when I should be studying HAHA

send good vibes for my civil procedure final tomorrow many thx <3

I watched the scene where billy and ollinger fight and this very much inspired it lol enjoy

as always, warnings: smuuuut, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), dom!billy, brat!reader, violence, blood, pussy slapping, overstimulation

thank you all for reading!!! I love you all so much!!!!

ANYWAYS... part two:

neither one of you told… but it didn’t take long for the others to sniff the air and have an inkling for how the wind changed overnight.

in all honesty, it was billy’s fault.

the man found every way to remain close enough to be considered by your side since that night.

he would sit by you at dinner. he wouldn’t touch another woman. he always looked at you when he told a joke. he always looked at you when someone else said something funny. that joyful twinkle in his eye was reserved for you, and only you, and everyone had picked up on it. not to mention — he’d not only check his horse — but yours as well.

everyone knew what was up. everyone. absolutely everyone.

billy made it abundantly clear without even uttering a word that you two had participated in something similar to carnal relationship.

…but, in all honesty, you didn’t mind.

you would’ve preferred to talk about it, sure. what prevented you from bringing that up to billy was that you didn’t have to pry respect and loyalty out of him — the man just did it, and because he wanted to. it was… okay, fuck it — you have to admit it to yourself: it was nice. billy the kid showing you slightly more than common decency and general enjoyment of your company was nice. you were worried about bringing it up to him at the idea of losing the potential staple of someone having your back, and them trusting you enough to have theirs.

you were fucked. totally fucked. absolutely fucked. no way around it.

the man was a mysterious fuck, as well — looked at you like you were an angel, but has fucked you like even the devil would avert its eyes from the debauchery. respected in the streets, and disrespected in the sheets — every woman’s dreams.

the one unfortunate aspect was… the others. you can usually ignore everyone, and anything — only way to get through life. however, the severity of the teasing had begun to worry you.

it first began with a curt up-down look of when billy always found his way to dismount from his horse and walk next to you. it wasn’t like he was guarding you, no… neither was he following you like a puppy. it was like there was a new form of respect there — and given the fact that most of the men still looked at you like you were just a silly girl, they noticed it. for a split second, in your stupid mind, you thought it would maybe make the rest of the men treat you better — but how could you ever think that? you rolled with these guys because their very existence was about disrespect and taking for themselves.

billy had made you bot outsiders — more than you already were.

like… maybe you weren’t together… but you had each other. you weren’t sure if you could count on him yet — but his actions were… well, they confused you. and you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad confusion yet.

there had been very few moments of privacy, so you were not able to catch him alone and speak about what happened. at first, you figured you both would go about your lives as usual… not wanting to expect too much from a man who appeared to live as he wanted when he wanted to. however… you didn’t expect that how he wanted to live his life was, well — apparently by your side.

unfortunately, thinking things over was not a freedom given to you without obstacles. many of them began giving you and him looks — and then the teasing started. instead of being known by name or a nickname, the men could be heard calling you “billy’s girl” in hushed tones.

you feared the day they finally bucked up the jewels and called you his whore. you knew it was coming — you didn't want it to happen, but you knew it was. you couldn't afford to be naive.

if anyone else called you his girl — you might’ve blushed. you almost relished in it. however, when men who barely respected women called you that and you both worked with them — you knew they didn’t mean it fondly. it annoyed you, especially when you hadn’t been able to even talk about it with billy.

were you his girl? were you a fling? would billy fuck another woman if given the chance? and honestly, did he tell anyone?

questions ran through your head with very few conclusions approaching. you thought their teasing would be the worst of the worst — until it wasn’t.

no… the worst was when billy had fought one of them.

a few days after the teasing had begun to get bad, you had finally stopped at another boarding house and bar with the other boys. you figured you would retire early and let them have their fun — but that would not be the case.

when you eventually had drank your share of booze and went upstairs when the girls came around, that was when ollinger had opened his big, fat mouth.

“when billy’s done, can i get a turn?”

you froze in your tracks.

this was your worst fear — losing their respect. you had worked tirelessly to earn it, and there had been times where you felt like you never did. you may never have had their actually respect, the kind they give to men — but they never did something like that. and when all of them laughed, and began to hoot and holler — that’s when you knew where you stood with them.

fucking billy.

but that wouldn't stop you, no. they brought you on because you were a pretty thing with claws — and that's what they were going to get.

“known you longer than i’ve known him. can’t say you’ve ever peaked my interest,” you spat as you turned around to face him from a few feet away. “don’t know if you’re man enough.”

he stood then, eyes wild. he held the neck of a bottle in one hand and immediately took a swig, appearing to ignite the fire in his eyes and the aggression in his steps toward you.

“you want me to show you a real man, sweetheart?”

you took a step forward, afraid to back down. you narrowed your eyes at him. “you want me to show you how i’m a better shot than you, sweetheart?”

he stepped closer to you then. you didn’t budge — you weren’t sure if that was out of pride or fear. when he stepped closer, the stench of liquor leaked from his mouth like smoke from a wildfire. a smirk was plastered on his face, and staying still and silent was the only thing you could do to hold your ground.

“you know what that makes you, right?” he spat in a low tone. “makes you billy’s whore.”

you couldn't help it — your face twisted with shame and anger. your vision was going almost as red as ollinger's, and you weren't sure if both of you would survive the next action that came from you. before you could process the impact of his words, let alone respond — billy spoke up.

“shut your mouth, ollinger.”

your eyes flickered over to where billy stood with his hands balled at his sides.

ollinger took another swig of his bottle before he turned and stalked over to billy. billy didn’t flinch, but simply watched a drunk ollinger try to keep his cool. the entire group watched — and waited.

“you don’t tell me what to do, boy,” ollinger sneered, clutching his bottle. “you ain’t special. i ain’t never seen anything special about you.”

billy reached for his gun, but did not pull it out. billy’s hands were shaky, and that’s when you realized it — he was drunk too. “alright then — let’s fight it out.”

“i ain’t fightin’ you with a gun.” ollinger brushed off billy’s comment with another careless swig of his drink. “you ain’t that important.”

“then let’s fight with our fuckin’ fists.” billy discarded his gun and the belt it was usually kept in. “like men.”

ollinger’s eyes showed a peak of interest.

your eyes… well, they showed terror.

ollinger walked towards billy with a dip of his chin that suggested he would enjoy the aspect of hurting billy more than winning anything over billy. ollinger already thought he was better than billy, he didn’t need to win anything — but that look in his eye? when predator was threatened by another?

without his gun, you were worried for billy. frankly, billy should’ve shown it — or at least you thought he would. ollinger had at least a decade of years, strength, and experience on billy. not to mention — ollinger has also had a vendetta against billy since they met.

ollinger immediately threw of his belt. “i’ll beat your ass any day.”

as ollinger drained the rest of the bottle, you could hear the hollering of the other men around you as they drew closer. ollinger threw the bottle to the ground and stalked towards billy.

as billy was about to start pulling off his vest, you stepped up to intervene.

you’d at least like to talk to him before he died.

however, jesse stepped in front of you. “can’t get in the way of two men fighting, doll.”

you raised your eyebrow at jesse. “ill cut your cock off.”

jesse only laughed, but kept his arm outstretched in front of you.

with years of experience… you thought ollinger would fight fair — but he caught billy with a jab before billy could get his vest off. you lunged for the pair, but jesse and some of the others held you back.

you didn’t know what to do. sure, you believed in billy — but the man had a tendency of getting his shit rocked in hand to hand combat.

ollinger let out an excited battle cry — and your hate sank into your stomach. billy struggled to get up as you fought against jesse.

“come on, billy!” ollinger baited. “come on, billy!”

you watched the look in billy’s eyes then — assessing the threat. billy immediately dodged a punch over his head, came back up, and started slamming ollinger’s head against a wooden post.

the excitement of the men around you slightly died as they realized that billy didn’t fight like other men — he had no interest in punching, or relishing in getting a lick in. he went straight for a possible kill shot, grunting as he hoped to subdue ollinger.

there would be no stopping either of them. you relented against jesse’s arm, staring at the two men. your mouth parted in horror, and your stomach dropped at the sight.

billy eventually threw him over the picnic table like he was nothing more than a sack of flour. his grunts were predatory — powerful and fucking masculine. fighting was fun for ollinger — but this? this? for billy? this was necessity. he didn’t care about asserting dominance — he cared about being left the fuck alone. he needed to make sure ollinger never fucked about him again. dominance was worth nothing if you didn't have survival.

billy, still intoxicated, stumbled over to where he had thrown ollinger — but ollinger was too quick. he grabbed billy by the boot and threw him back. billy landed on his ass, and you watched in fear as ollinger stomped toward him. his eyes were wild and his mouth was curled into a bloody snarl. you wanted to get involved, you knew you should’ve — but what could you do? this was what happened when you rolled with men like this — they had to fight this out themselves, or they would become everyone’s problem. you hated it — every fucking minute of it — because this problem started with ollinger’s disrespect for you and how you could cut his jewels off before he could even get a kiss in. poor billy…

but not poor billy.

no, not poor billy — because when ollinger stood over billy, billy kicked him so far backwards that ollinger then stumbled and fell on his ass.

billy was up in an instant, stumbling, and smacked the absolute shit out of ollinger with an open palm. ollinger flew backwards for a second time that night, and suddenly the men grew more excited watching the fight. all you could do was trail behind them — worried.

billy walked up to the porch and stood above ollinger, but ollinger’s wounded pride had gotten the better of him. he took billy by the cloth of his shoulders, and slammed him repeatedly against the wooden wall of the outside of the house. jesse and his friends were cheering on billy, but all you could hear was his pained grunts. and then, just then — the moonlight had caught billy’s face just right. his eyes were screwed shut as the pain registered from the blow — and blood was pouring down from his nose and into his mouth. billy fell against ollinger in exhaustion, and that was when pat garett started cheering louder and louder.

“please,” you whispered, helpless.

in an instant, billy had gotten his elbows up and clutched the shoulders of ollinger’s shirt. with (basically) a battle cry, he willed himself to push ollinger off of him, in front of him, and then in through the doors of where all of the other men were with their women.

you followed jesse, pat, and the others.

billy and ollinger immediately crashed into the floor of the house with grunts and screams. the men once getting blown or ridden were now cheering on the fight, and the women above them or at their feet were stunned and confused — worried about getting hit.

this time — billy had gotten up before ollinger. ollinger may have had years of experience on billy, but years were years: ollinger was old, and exhausted. billy stood up and began laying overhead punch after overhead punch onto ollinger.

“get up, ollinger!” he yelled, eyes black. “get the fuck up!”

immediately, billy pulled back. like you had thought — he didn’t need the kill shot, but he needed the threat subdued. billy was breathing heavy, he was bleeding… you were so worried for him. jesse pushed past you and grabbed billy’s arm, raising it above his head.

“boys, we got a winner!” jesse cheered before everyone followed in suit.

billy fell back against the nearest bed and sat down. it just so happened that was a bed that your oldest friend was sharing with a woman. stunned, the woman grabbed billy by the shoulders to steady him. she wiped some of the blood off of his face with his shirt. you were thankful — but then her smile turned big when she realized how handsome he was.

your blood boiled.

you watched at his big eyes darted up to her face as he tried to regain his composure. he took one look at her face, your friend, and got up.

he spat once on the floor, cleaning his mouth of any excess blood. over his shoulder, he threw, “no hard feelings, ollinger.”

and started straight towards you.

you stood there, in the back behind everyone, frozen in place. billy was in front of you in as little as five strides. thankfully she had wiped his face — because he only tasted vaguely like blood when he grabbed you by the face and pressed your lips to his.

he cupped your face with one hand, but it held you in place like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. with his finger stroking your cheek, you kissed him with every bit of fear, frustration, and excitement you had in you. your lips folded together like you two were the only ones in the room — and like everyone in the room wasn’t cheering for the clear winner of the fight, and the kiss with the girl the fight was started over.

billy had stood up for you. the one man who had actually ever done that.

against your lips, he whispered. “i know you could handle himself yourself — but you shouldn’t have had to.”

you giggled against his lips, yours stretching into a wide grin. he pecked your lips a couple of times, unable to get enough of being the only one to be able to do this. he replied, “never had much taste for these girls — had a different one in mind.”

“you gonna take her somewhere private, cowboy, or what?” you asked.

billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief before he bent low, and hauled you over his shoulder. your feet kicked in front of him as you struggled to hold your hat in place and keep your balance. you were shouting at him, but nothing could be heard over your giggles or everyone else’s whistling. with one firm arm circling your hips, keeping your ass in place with his massive hand, he kicked open the doors and brought you upstairs.

“billy, if you don’t put me down —“ you laughed, breathlessly. threats were futile. “i swear —“

“shhh, sweetheart — you know i’ll take care of you,” he responded.

billy found an empty bedroom and immediately went to work. he sat you down on a low dresser and immediately started going for your riding pants and shirt. you kicked off your boots and shimmied out of the fabric as billy stood over you.

with one hand pressed to your cheek, he kissed you once more. you pulled away to smile at him. you spoke, “thank you… for what you did.”

“ollinger needs to know when to shut his mouth,” he spoke, engulfing you in a kiss once more. “should’ve made a move if he was jealous. now i’m the only one who gets to have my face between these pretty thighs.”

he pulled you by the hips so you were almost hanging off the edge, your feet flat against the wood of the dresser. you were breathless as your head began to swim. billy got down on his knees, parted your thighs, and dove for your slit.

your head immediately hit the wall. you wanted to arch your back — keen towards him — but you had limited mobility. you were at the mercy of the man before you who was lapping at your clit like nothing else existed. you should've been worried about his injuries, the dried blood on your face... but you couldn't. you didn't. billy was satisfying every bit of desperation you had felt since that night and you were too strung out to fight him. strained moans left your lips as your hips began to buck into his face.

“billy, stop…” you whined. “i want you inside me…”

he didn’t listen. the man kept his tongue drawing all kinds of messy, wet circles around your sensitive bud that pulled every dirty whine out of you. in an instant, billy pushed two fingers into you and immediately started pumping them. you lost your breath — and your ability to speak coherent sentences as well. he was tapping against your upper wall, pining for that sweet spot that was gonna make you sing for him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried. one of your hands found his tangled mess of curls and fisted your fingers through them. billy’s tongue was thick, hot, and the roof of it was rough as he shook his head against your center, increasing the friction. your hips and legs were spasming uncontrollably as a warm feeling spread from your abdomen. “jesus christ — you’re so mean.”

the air seemed to shift in that moment, but you were so lost you couldn’t comprehend. billy wrapped his cracked lips around your clit, and pulled at it and sucked. hard.

your eyes screwed shut as a cry vibrated through your chest and into your throat. it hurt, god it hurt, but in the most bittersweet way you could imagine. it was like pain and comfort all in one, delivered by the same hand, driving you into submission. every blood vessel was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing for billy’s movements and you couldn’t regain control — and you weren't sure you wanted to.

he suddenly pulled away. “you think i’m mean, sweetheart?”

his blue eyes pierced into yours when he picked up his head to face you. his eyes were raised in a manner that suggested he expected a response, but you were still in your daze. your eyes were glossy, your lips were puffy and parted, hoping he'd answer his question for you.

billy didn’t like that. with his free hand, he slapped your clit.

your body jolted, surprised at the sensation. it made your breath catch in your throat as all of your senses were on red alert... but it only made your pussy throb harder.

“billy…” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes. “you’re teasing me.”

his dry thumb began to rub circles around your sensitive clit, and the mixture of your slick and the rough skin of his dumb drew you into his control. in that moment — in that raw, vulnerable moment — you couldn’t think of anything else besides billy, and getting him to make you cum.

“mean, that it, sweetheart?” another slap to your clit. “you want me to show you mean?”

even in your haze, you were a brat at heart. with a smirk, yet shaking from how sensitive you were, you smirked at him. “don’t think you can.”

in an instant, he was on his feet. you struggled to ring out your tense muscles and stand with him, but billy wasn’t having it. he flipped you around so you were on your stomach on the dresser, legs hanging over the edge. billy pulled your hips up for you to stand on your toes, forcing your ass into the perfect position for him.

“slut for only me, huh?” he asked, kneading the skin of your ass in his hands. he slapped it once, twice, thrice — ripping little squeals from your petal pink lips. his thumb found its way into the outer folds of your pussy, barely entering. “won’t throw even a pity glance at anyone down there — but something about me just gets you this wet.”

he pushed his thumb into your sopping wet hole, and you squealed. you held onto the dresser to give yourself leverage to push yourself into his hand, but one of his hands held down your lower back.

“more, please…” you whispered.

“that smirk made me think you don’t deserve it,” he spat, still playing with your pretty pussy.

“billy —!” you screamed with exasperation. “please!”

with his thumb still in your pussy, billy leant down and wrapped an arm around your throat. with your neck in the crook of his elbow, he pulled your back to arch up towards him. billy placed his lips right by your ear, and spoke, “is that who’s got you this worked up, baby? huh? me? be sweet, and maybe i’ll kiss those pretty tears away.”

you hadn’t even noticed it — but he was right. your cheeks were stained with tear streaks that made them damp. with broken breaths, you spoke, “please — i promise.”

he began to pump his thumb into your pussy, while his other fingers worked light circles around your clit. “promise what?”

“that i’m — that i —“ you couldn’t get the words out. you were a struggling mess — clinging to the dresser with the little strength in your hands you could muster, and completely at the mercy of billy’s hold. his breath was hot against your face as heat rose throughout your body. “i —“

“fucked so dumb you can't use your words?”

“fuck —“ you cried, already almost succumbing to the feather light touches on your clit. “you’re the only one, billy — only one — please, just let me cum.”

“yeah?” he grunted. “gonna take what i give you?”

“anything, billy —“ you gasped. “please — just want you.”

billy kept his promise. he pressed his lips against your cheek, pushing your head slightly to the side. every muscle in your body was taut with trying to remain balanced and stay perked for every one of billy’s moments. his fingers in your clit began working faster and harder, and your body began to shake. you were so sensitive to everything around you — his kisses, his chokehold, his heat on your back, his fingers buried deep in your folds. you bucked his hips back into his hand, and everything exploded.

without billy’s hold, you would’ve collapse into the dresser. your knuckles were white as they bent, causing your nails to rip at the wood of the dresser. you back was arched completely towards the ceiling as you tried to remain in position. billy was whispering nasty, nasty, nasty things in your ear that coupled with your delicious moans.

“that’s it, baby, just keep cumming for me,” he rasped, groaning in your ear. “can be such a brat — but she’s got the prettiest pussy. i know what makes my girl tick.“

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you cried, falling against billy’s shoulder. the world melted before you. your eyes were drifting open and closed. the haze had consumed your brain, and each of billy’s movements made a whine well up behind your closed lips. “fuck, billy, i can’t —“

his fingers didn’t stop, and you felt like you were about to collapse. “oh, sweetheart, too much for you?”

you were practically fucking sobbing at this point. “n-no-no—“

“greedy, baby,” he said, licking at your cheek. “thought you were gonna take everything i gave you?”

“your cock, billy — please —“

“naw, sweetheart,” he said stroking your cheek. “think you’re in over your pretty little head. can’t take anymore.”

“no, no, billy — i want your cock so bad —“ your whines were music to his fucking ears.

“yeah, baby?” he asked, shimmying off his pants. “you want my cock? think you can handle it?”

“i can, i can, i can —“ you chanted, your head swimming. you felt billy’s hands spread your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. his cock slipped in through your folds until he bottomed out, pressing his hips firmly against your back side.

with billy’s mouth still so close to your ear, he rasped, “sucked my cock into you, doll. couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

you arched your backside into his hips, eagerly hoping to meet every thrust. billy had once hand holding your hips down, and the other was clutching the soft, supple skin of your throat. you could hear every labored breath of his, mixing with your own. this position was unlike any other: from the back was usually reserved for women of the night, but holding you? in such an intimate manner? with his lips dragging across the skin of your cheek? waiting for how you reacted to his touch?

you were a mess. mud in his hands — dirty and messy and everywhere —needing him to keep you together.

“nothin’ feels better than you inside me, billy,” you whined.

“i know, darlin’, i’ll always take care of you,” he groaned, lips pulling at your ear lobe which sent your nerve endings on fire. “don’t know how you do it t’me. y’let me, and i'll always be back in between these pretty thighs.”

the groan you let out was hoarse in the most feminine way. your hair was splayed out all around you, cascading down your back. with every thrust, your nipples, taut, hit the cool wood of the dresser and mirrored the smallest bit of pain you needed to leave reality. your skin was flushed and tainted with every touch and caress from billy he gave you. when he saw the blush on your cheeks, and the tears staining your long lashes — he could’ve come right then.

his girl. his pure, fucked out, sweet and scary girl. all his. a force to be reckoned with, but the prettiest sight to see. and you were all his.

however, he wasn’t through with you yet.

no. he was so mean, and he knew it — but he didn't care.

not when he had finally had you after so long.

it was right then that billy promised himself he would never neglect you for so long ever again. he knew that no one had ever touched, fucked, or loved you like he did. he knew that you never let anyone even get as close to him as you let him that night, and he would never forget that — nor would he be so careless as being ungrateful.

his girl — flushed, pink, and finally being able to know what it means to be so vulnerable with a man that she would never know an orgasm like this. he would set the fires of hell on anyone around you if it meant that you could feel this free, so wild, so yourself for the rest of your life. he knew what he had to do next.

he pulled out, and flipped you over so you were back against the wall and sitting up. he immediately stepped in between you and pushed your thighs and legs up so your calves would rest on his shoulders.

“need to feel how deep that pussy can squeeze me,” he grunted, pressing his cock into your folds.

you moaned at his words and movements, practically sand at this point. your body was numb and on fire and in water all at the same time — leaving you completely out of control. all you needed, no — craved was billy sending you over the edge. over the edge, please, over, over, over, need it billy, a pathetic mess you were, but neither of you would change it for the world.

billy began pistoning his hips into yours and you immediately leaned forward to grab onto his bulging biceps. you felt every hot breath hit your face with every thrust. the room was so hot, stuffy, humid, and yet you didn’t want it to end. all you could feel was your tight, soft walls squeezing the living hell out of billy and his beautiful cock.

“‘m gonna cum, billy,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a good girl f’me, huh?” he bit. “always takin’ everything i give her. takes my cock so well.”

“only for you, baby,” you cried again, throwing your head back against the wall.

“oh — i don’t think so, sweetheart.” his thumb immediately went to your clit, drawing rough circles on the overstimulated rosebud. "i get to see those pretty eyes when you cum."

your body immediately went taut, sitting up. the slight shake of your limbs was apparent to both of you, and you let out little gasps because of how far you were driven from reality. his cock was pounding against that one sweet spot that made your knuckles white and your teeth bury themselves into the plump of your bottom lip.

“can’t,” you cried, tears beginning to flow once more. "oh, baby — i can't, i can't..."

“i know this pussy can handle it,” he bit. “what happened to being sweet, sugar? huh? goin’ back on your promise?”

his words were the last thing you heard before your body fell mercy to uncontrollable ecstasy. your mind, numb, was thrown back and forth between the throws of passion and the pull and push of billy’s hands bruising the flesh of your hips. you pressed your forehead to billy’s, sobbing through your gritted teeth. tears were pushing through your shut, wrinkled eyelids, and all you could hear was billy begging — coaxing that last orgasm out of you.

billy had won the fight, and he had earned every fucking orgasm he had given you that night. he needed it, he earned it, and he would not be denied it. testosterone was mixing with his blood, making his veins pound, and all he could think about how the scary and sweet girl he won a fight for was weak and needy for his touch.

desperate for a comfort that she hd only allowed him to give her.

he detached your foreheads so your faces were almost pressed together, sides of your noses touching. his lips were brushing against yours — but they weren't kissing you, no. instead, they were reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.

“sweetest fuckin’ girl i know.”

"luckiest guy in this whole thing — you get that? all fuckin' jealous of me."

“knows exactly what to do to fuckin’ please me.”

“pussy just won’t stop cumming, sugar? bet you hate me so much, huh?”

with one final pull of pleasure in your muscles, you screamed his name with a sob. a fucking sob. you were drenched in sweat, your own slick, and tears. fucking tears. they were everywhere — down your cheeks, your neck, and all over billy. your hands found the hair at the back of his neck, and you weaved your fingers through the tendrils for stability.

that was when billy’s orgasm hit him: when you were so weak you could do nothing but cling to him and cry for his touch.

the throaty groan that rumbled through his chest was unlike anything you ever heard. it was animalistic — a primal need was satisfied and everything in his body was singing at the release. he clutched your body to his and your skin warmed at the embrace. he delivered three final pumps into your puffy, pink pussy, and you couldn’t do anything besides take it. you didn't want to do anything else besides take it. the sound of his moans sent every hair on your body standing at attention and your fingers were stroking his soft skin for comfort.

“that’s it, baby,” you whispered, cockdrunk. “love when you're the only one that gets to use me like this.”

at that, he knew you'd be the death of him. he accepted it, and he was okay with it. — happy, even.

you were peppering kisses all over the side of his face as he was coming down from his high. a sleepy haze settled over his eyes, but instead he captured your lips into one final embrace.

“this is the second time this evening i’ve had my shit rocked tonight, darlin’, all because of you,” he whispered. “no dull moment with you, huh?”

“never, baby,” you whispered, letting your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned against him.

“good thing you’re mine,” he quipped, pressing a long and hard kiss to your cheek. “never could share a sweet thing like you.”

----

im buzzing after that

love u guys hehe

-L oxoxox

#william bonney #billy the kid #William h bonney #kid antrim #william h bonney x reader #william bonney smut #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy x reader #billy smut #billy the kid imagine #billy imagine #William h bonney smut #tom Blyth #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow

[writethrough]

Bad Boy Type

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: Girls' night at Billy and Max's new place takes a turn when El insists on you marrying Billy.

Warnings: Mentions of Neil, extreme fluff, mutual pining (because I'm a whore for that shit), language

Word Count: 4056

A/N: This might be the fluffiest thing I've written. It's also the longest. And yes, I still have requests to finish. But life really said, "It's Billy's time," and I'm not mad about it.

You were fiercely protective over Max and El since you met. They became the younger sisters you never had. You’d do anything for them. And you always made sure to plan something with them as often as possible.

Today, you three were holed up at Max and Billy’s new place. It wasn’t much. It was a steal since it’d been so run down no one else wanted it. You and the rest of your group helped fix up what you could. After everything you’d all been through, it created an untouchable bond. And everyone was eager to help in whatever way they could, especially once Max confided in you about Billy’s father. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Neil was a shitty person. He gave off enough hostility to power a freight train. A few months after renovating, the house was finally livable. And between your car and Billy’s, they moved within the hour.

All three of you were on the floor around the coffee table, snacking on candy and discussing very important business.

“Okay, okay,” Max said, trying to rein in her laughter. “El, kiss, marry, kill…The Outsiders.”

You grinned and leaned closer as El looked down in thought.

“Kiss Sodapop, marry Johnny, and…I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said timidly.

And because it was El, you and Max accepted that.

You faced Max. “I’m guessing yours would be the same?”

“I’m killing Steve,” she added, and you snickered. “What about you?”

You hummed, running through the characters before picking three.

“Kill Two-Bit, kiss Darry, marry Dally,” you said with a nod.

“Dally’s an asshole!” Max groaned, slapping her thighs.

“But he’s hot,” you countered.

“But he’s an asshole,” she repeated, giving you a look.

“But he’s hot.”

After a few seconds, you all started giggling. You really loved spending time with these two.

El grew quiet, deep in thought, and she made you and Max stop laughing with her question.

“What about Billy?”

Your brow furrowed. “Billy?”

She nodded. “Would you marry him?”

Your face grew warm. Did El think because you liked the bad boy character in a film, you liked one in reality?

Billy had never been outright rude to you—his attitude rubbed you the wrong way—cocky and smug like he knew he could get away with almost anything. It wasn’t until after the Mind Flayer that you befriended him.

You’d describe your friendship as…quiet. You didn’t hang out together—only in a group with everyone or Steve and the other adults. Usually, though, you saw him most when you, Max, and El hung out.

You were the girls’ friend first and foremost. When you started picking Max up when they lived with their parents, he always scowled at you through the door as she raced to your car. Later, you thought it had something to do with Neil’s reactions to his stepdaughter not being home even though he knew where Max was. You had enough knocks on the door from Billy to put two and two together.

Now, Billy was relaxed when you picked her up or stayed over. You sometimes wondered if he was glad Max had you to rely on now that it was just him and his stepsister. If she ever needed anything, he could count on you to lend him a hand.

So while he wasn’t the same rage-filled boy you knew in high school, his reputation still preceded him. Though now you knew him in a different light—provider, protector, and maybe that was why you started to like him.

You shook your head to rid yourself of that thought.

“I…Well, I…I don’t…” Jesus Christ! How were you supposed to answer this without giving yourself away?

Just then, a car door slammed. Billy’s home.

He threw his jacket on the hook and his keys on the table and stopped when he noticed you, Max, and El.

His eyes seemed to linger on you before addressing everyone.

“Hey,” he said, mentally kicking himself. Couldn’t he think of anything better to say? Maybe “you look nice,” not “hey.”

“How was work,” you asked, still trying to shake off El’s question and the fact that he walked in as if summoned.

“Fine. Didn’t know you’d be over.” He would've cleaned up and made it look nice. Maybe then he could cook you dinner.

He had to stop from asking if this little get-together was overnight. He sure hoped so.

“I dragged her out of her house for girls' day. They’re sleeping over, too,” Max said. Maybe she could read his mind—maybe that was why most of your time was spent at Billy’s place and not yours—because Max knew he needed an excuse to talk to you since the Mind Flayer.

He nodded slowly and gestured toward the bathroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Order pizza or I can make spaghetti?” he asked.

You tilted your head at his words. Billy cooked?

It made sense. You’re sure he’s had to fend for himself most of his life. You just never thought about him in the kitchen.

Before you could say anything, El said, “I like spaghetti.” And that seemed to settle it.

When Billy left, Max leaned forward. “Don’t worry, he’s actually a really good cook.”

And to play off your daydreams of Billy cooking you breakfast, you said, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

—

When Billy emerged from the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you were both relieved and disappointed your back faced him.

The girls were telling you their boyfriend troubles, and it took everything in you not to imagine the remaining water tracing Billy’s toned stomach.

“Sometimes I think you have the right idea,” Max said, flopping back in the chair.

You blinked, coming back to reality. “Me? What idea is that?”

“Being single.” She shrugged. “Boys are a pain in the ass.”

You rolled your eyes. “While that is true, sometimes I think it’d be nice to have my person, you know?”

“Your person?” El asked, furrowing her brow.

“Someone who’s always there for you, no matter what. They accept every part of you, good and bad.” You sighed. “They're the person you want to be around the most.”

She looked at you seriously. “We are your person.”

It nearly brought tears to your eyes. One of the many reasons you loved El was her heart.

“C’mere,” you whispered, holding open your arms.

She scootched toward you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“You too.” You motioned Max over.

That’s how Billy found you three, hugging each other on the couch like you were trying to absorb into one being.

“Am I interrupting some girl thing?” he asked, opening the cabinet.

You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “No, you’re fine.” You looked over the back of the couch. “Anything I can help with?”

He gave you a flirty smile. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

It didn’t take long for him to announce it was ready, and you all grabbed your plates and huddled around the coffee table again. A little thrill went through you when Billy sat beside you, taking your dish from you and setting it down so you could lower yourself.

It was quiet for a few minutes as you all took your first bites. It was only pasta and marinara sauce, but it hit the spot. Maybe it was because Billy made it.

“I’m impressed,” you said, waving your fork around your plate.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Billy mused, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Does this mean you’ll marry Billy?”

You nearly choked on the bite you took. You wished she could read minds so you could scream, “Not the freaking time!”

Billy’s face flushed as he glanced between you two.

“Am I missing something?” He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. You wanted to marry him? Well, no. It sounded like you didn’t want to marry him. Why didn’t you want to marry him?

“No,” you said quickly. Billy tried to convince himself his chest didn’t constrict at that word. 

“(Y/N) would marry Dally,” El said. “And Dally’s an asshole.”

You put your face in your hands. There was no stopping her.

“And I’ve called you an asshole so many times.” Max provided as an explanation.

Billy could only look at you, and as you curled further in on yourself, he smirked—even though he’d been called an asshole twice—maybe there was something to El’s question.

“Didn’t think you were into that type,” he said, leaning back against the couch.

“I’m not. Not really.” You couldn’t look at him, opting to push the noodles around your plate.

“No? Then what is your type, sweetheart?”

He was teasing you. You could push back with teasing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’s why I asked.” And the way he said it, it took on a seriousness you weren’t prepared for—like he really wanted to know because he cared about the answer. Like it meant something to him.

“I—”

The phone saved you. And Max jumped up.

“It’s probably Lucas,” she said. They’d been having a good week.

You took the opportunity to excuse yourself. “I’m gonna change.”

You grabbed your things and closed the bathroom door.

—

Billy watched as you fled. It was cute how flustered he could make you. And that’s when an idea struck him.

With you and Max busy, he turned to El.

“You think she likes me?” he asked, leaning toward her.

“Do you mean like like?” She stared at him with those big innocent eyes.

He nodded.

“I think so.”

“You think so? She hasn’t said anything to you or Max? Girls talk about that stuff at girls' night, right?” He bit his cheek. Was he reading the signs wrong? Were his feelings clouding his judgment?

Since his recovery, you’ve always been there. You made sure he took care of himself and kept an eye on Max. When he told you about the rundown little place he found, you got Hopper on board to pull a few strings and help remodel. Hell, you got everyone to help.

He still remembered the day you painted the walls, and you and Robin put handprints on each other's chests. He and Steve had said, “What about us,” and you and Robin fitted them with their own set. He still had that shirt.

Even the shit that went down with Steve. You were somehow able to mend things between them. It took a lot of work, and arguments popped up, but with you there, he did it. He didn’t have many friends at Hawkins High—they were a means to an end. However, now? He had ones that would have his back in an apocalyptic world. And it was because of you.

You were his rock, even if you didn’t know it. And he wanted to be that person for you.

“She doesn’t tell us,” El said. “But she looks at you the way Nancy looks at Jonathan.”

He knew the look she was talking about, and he hoped she was right.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“You…You like her, right?” she asked tentatively.

He smiled fondly. “More than Eggos.”

El giggled.

He shook his head slightly, smile remaining, mumbling, “Just want her ‘round all the time.”

She beamed, but before she could say another word, you and Max returned.

—

Everyone seemed to forget about the conversation before the phone rang. When you came out of the bathroom, El asked if you could start watching movies, and Max quickly put The Karate Kid in.

What surprised you the most was Billy making popcorn and bringing everyone a soda. You thought he’d retreat to his room like he usually did, but he sat next to you on the couch as the girls spread out on the floor with their own bowl of popcorn.

Halfway through the movie, the sun had set, and the air grew cooler. You rubbed your arm absentmindedly, focused on the screen. You vaguely noticed Billy disappearing somewhere, and when he returned, he held a sweatshirt.

Your heart sped up a little at his offer.

You played it off and raised an eyebrow when he handed it to you.

“You’re cold, right,” he asked, putting it in your lap when you didn’t take it right away.

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I’m just shocked you own a sweatshirt.”

He rolled his eyes but held back a smile. “Very funny.” Then when he was settled. “Indiana’s fucking cold.”

You slipped it over your head, the material warming and engulfing you in his scent. Bunching the sleeves into your fists, you leaned against the cushion and tucked your legs under you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

The movie soon ended, and Max inserted the second film.

Neither you nor Billy spoke after that. It was…nice...being there with him.

Between him and his sweatshirt, you were surrounded by warmth. The noise from the TV lulled into the background, and before you knew it, you were asleep.

Billy noticed almost immediately. He’d been arguing with himself about whether to put an arm around you after he gave you his hoodie.

After the shit he went through, Billy didn’t go after women. He was so in his head about what he’d done—what the monster made him do—he thought everyone was better off if he stayed away. And his body wasn’t the same afterward. Part of him wondered if you’d recoil if he touched you.

And then your head was on his shoulder. Your soft breathing in his ear. And he froze for a second. But then he sunk into you.

If this was the only time you’d be this close to him, he would take it.

He carefully moved his arm to pull you closer, and you shifted in your sleep to snuggle into him. He let his cheek rest against your head for one…two…three…four…five seconds, then lifted back up. He didn’t want Max or El to catch him and ask questions.

It wasn’t long until the movie ended, and the girls were passed out on the floor. And Billy debated staying right where he was, but he knew he shouldn’t.

He did indulge and place a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head before laying you down and pulling a blanket over you. He did the same for El and Max. And once the VHS was safely back in its case, he walked to his room with a final look at you thrown over his shoulder.

—

When the rising sun hit your eyelids, all you wanted was to turn over and go back to sleep. The sizzle of a frying pan and the smell of pancakes made you sit up.

Billy was by the stove, waiting to flip them and keeping a watchful eye on the bacon.

“Smells good,” you whispered, mindful of the two sleeping girls. Billy’s sweatshirt protected you from the morning chill.

He glanced at you and quirked his lips up. “It’s almost ready.”

You gave him a small smile in return, and it took you a moment to realize he had never done this before. Dinner was one thing, but breakfast was entirely different.

“What brought this on?” you asked, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to impress you again.” He finally turned around to face you and crossed his arms, spatula in hand.

You let out a breathy laugh, looking down before eyeing the cooking pancakes.

“Don’t let them fold in on themselves when you flip them, and you’re golden,” you teased. 

He raised a brow at you, turned around, and seamlessly flipped both over before setting the spatula down and facing you once more.

You held your hands up in surrender. “Consider me impressed.”

“Good.” He pulled a mug out of the cabinet for himself. “You sleep okay?”

You shrugged. “Good enough. Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”

He would have gladly lent you his bed. He didn’t even need to be in it with you. He would’ve taken the small couch he had crammed in his room.

“Good thing you don’t snore. I think Max would’ve suffocated you,” he said.

You bumped your shoulder with his. “She likes me too much.”

You stared at each other for a moment. Something about Billy in the morning, with the soft light from the sun reflecting in his eyes and shading his hair, was almost breathtaking. He was relaxed, and you hoped it slowly became his new normal.

His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you swore you stopped breathing until you glanced away and saw the pancakes.

“Better watch before they burn,” you said, swallowing to rid yourself of your dry throat.

He had forgotten about them as he took you in. From your pajamas to your still-sleepy gaze and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—you seemed so…at home here.

He tried to shake that thought as he plated breakfast and set it down at the kitchen table.

You could lean against the counter every morning, sipping coffee as he made you both breakfast. He’d peck your lips each time he passed you for something, and as he waited for things to finish cooking, he would wrap his arms around your shoulders and bury his nose in your hair. Your arms would tighten around his waist, and you’d both stand there, completely content as the warm rays filtered in.

Since last night, since El’s question, a spark had ignited within him. The flicker of…hope, something he hadn’t felt since…since…he didn’t even know when. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly, but if El saw a connection between him and Dally, then maybe you did too. He couldn’t deny that he’d been a dick in the past. He was still trying to correct those mistakes. But where Dallas Winston had Johnny, Billy had…well…the closest he could think of was you.

And potentially having a life with you? That didn’t sound too bad. Not at all.

You sat across from one another. You could feel Billy’s eyes on you. When you glanced up from your breakfast, he gave you a smirk as if to say, “Impressed?”

You were about to speak, but he beat you to it.

“So, we didn’t finish our discussion last night.”

“Discussion?” You tilted your head.

He nodded and tried to keep his smug smirk at bay. “You into the bad boy type, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widened before you covered your face with your hand. “Didn’t the time for this pass?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon, tell me, what’s it about him that gets you goin’?”

You shook your head and attempted to suppress your smile. Even though this was embarrassing, you still found Billy cute.

“I’m not doing this with you and that dirty mind of yours. It’s too early. Besides, the girls are still sleeping,” you said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh please, Max used to hear me with girls.” He stated it like a fact, without pride or accomplishment in his voice.

“I know. She’s complained to me multiple times,” you said matter-of-factly.

He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing pink. It surprised you.

He shrugged as if to shake off his actions. “Guess Winston and I are different then.”

“That’s not such a bad thing.” You hoped your smile told him that it really wasn’t a bad thing—that you genuinely liked the person he was growing into—that you cared for him.

“Hope so,” he said softly, taking a bite.

You could’ve stayed there and stared at him for the rest of the day. His eyes were so blue, his hair still a bit messy, and he just looked…he just looked content.

You wanted to reach across the table, grab his hand, hold it between yours and trace each finger. Maybe he’d stop you by pulling your hand to his lips. Maybe, you’d follow with your own.

And as soon as that thought reared its head, Max and El strolled into the kitchen.

“You made pancakes?” Max’s face scrunched up.

“We have guests,” Billy said with a shrug. Like he was concerned with being a good host.

At least for you, he was.

“When has that forced you to do anything?” she asked, stacking her plate.

You locked eyes with Billy from across the table and smiled shyly.

—

“So, you coming here next week?” he asked, putting your bag in the backseat for you.

You shook your head. “It’s at mine next week. Parents are away for a few days. I was thinking of making it an all-weekend thing.”

He slowly nodded, disappointed he wouldn’t see you—only to drop Max off and pick her up.

“Just let me know when I can get the shitbird out of my hair.” It’s all he thought to say to hide his discontentment.

You pursed your lips. It was now or never. “Actually, I was thinking—if you weren’t too busy, maybe you could come over, too? I know it’s technically ‘girls' night,’ but…last night was really nice.”

He tried to keep his face neutral, make it seem like he wasn’t experiencing heart palpitations, but his smile couldn’t stay hidden. It made you immediately relax.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

The way he looked at you sent shivers up your spine and heat through your veins. It was like he couldn’t believe you were real. You’d never seen him have this warmth in his gaze. Like he’d happily follow you anywhere and listen to every word you said.

You returned his smile with a gentle one of your own. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly.

He really was beautiful in the sunlight. His skin full of its own sun. You were so close to each other earlier that you felt it radiating off him. It took everything in you not to rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle in.

He took a step forward, resting a hand on the roof of your car. “You gonna make me sleep on the floor at yours?”

You lightly bit your lip. And fuck, you were in for the best kind of trouble. “Depends on how much you impress me.”

“And what do I have to do to make that happen?” There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.

You tried to repress your smile as you leaned to whisper in his ear. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips. He shivered when your breath hit his skin.

“You’ll have to figure it out.” You pulled back with a little smirk, and he let out a soft chuckle.

His gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips and back again. His hand came up to caress your cheek, grazing his thumb there.

“Not even a little hint?” he asked teasingly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You pushed your head further into his hand.

He hummed. “Guess you’re right. Have to earn it.”

You grinned. “I have complete faith in you.”

And even though you were both joking with each other, that meant more to him than he would ever admit. You believed in him. You had gotten to know him and helped him through the hardest parts of his life without even knowing it. He wanted to prove to you that trust wasn’t misplaced. That he deserved your patience, your kindness, your love.

Without another thought, he pulled you into his embrace. He held onto you like he was afraid to lose you—like you’d suddenly change your mind and not see him.

You could feel it in the way he held you. You struck something, something crucial, something he needed to hear. So, you hugged him back, smoothing your hand up and down his spine.

When you pulled away, you slipped your hand into his. “I should probably get going.”

He nodded. “Get home safe.”

“Thanks, Billy,” you said. “I’ll see you next week.”

Before you could step around him, he encircled your wrist gently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“See you next week, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk slipping back onto his face.

You shook your head slightly as you climbed into your car, waving to him as you pulled out.

He stood there, watching you drive further away from him. And he knew you two were about to be much much closer.

#stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove deserved better

[anundyingfidelity]

congrats first of all!!!! second of all can we have some butcher smut Please for the girls ?

thank you sm sweetieee <33 of courseee, my first billy butcher request! i love him lol hope i did him justice for this one, he's a very complicated character in my opinion haha this is soft, angsty smut with butcher for the girls😩🩷

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

DON'T GO — Billy Butcher x female reader

Word count: 477.

Genre: soft, angsty smut.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex.

The sound of his name, his real name, sweetly being pronounced with your voice was soothing and charming. For him, there wasn't any other than you who could have him swooning and dying for. He was addicted to all of you. To your moans, to your soft touch, how your nails would scratch his back as he fucked you slow and deep on your bed.

You bit back a loud whimper, his cock filling you up to the brim perfectly, focused on your pleasure rather than his own. Butcher wanted to see you squirm under him, to hear you cry his name once you came, so the only thing you had in mind was him.

And when he showed up that night at your door after months of no calls or visits, you cried. Then you slapped him in the face, and finally you hugged him tightly for disappearing so long. Butcher understood your reaction. He knew he deserved more than that, but yet here you were, with him hovering over your figure, spreading your legs, and kissing your lips to surpress your loud moans as he fucked you slow and passionate, like if you had all the time of the world to yourselves and give into each other.

"I love when you moan my name," he darkly mumbled against your neck, kissing and licking your skin, tasting the layer of sweat running down.

The contrast of his voice, his rough hands feeling every inch of your skin in the most delicate way would always get you amazed. Your hands moved to cup his cheeks and you pulled him for a wet kiss, rolling your tongue between his lips as he bucked his hips. You let out a moan against his mouth when one of his digits found your clit, rubbing you painfully slow.

"I fucking missed you," you gasped, breaking the kiss, feeling you were almost reaching that sweet high. "Oh, shit, I'm so close..."

"Fuck, I've missed you too, luv," he breathed out, giving you a particular hard thrust that forced another sweet sound from your throat.

He knew you were close. His raspy voice praised and encouraged you to let go. He wanted nothing more but to feel you cum around him. And when your walls clenched and your whole body began to tremble, he increased his own rhythm to get to heaven with you.

You sealed your love for him with a desperate kiss, not ever wanting to let go.

"Don't go like that again," you whispered.

Butcher caressed your cheek, taking in your beauty after the bliss of the reunion you had. He knew he had to leave again. That his world was too dangerous for you. But he was too much of a fool to admit it to you and break your heart, and instead he decided to lie.

"I won't."

#billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher smut #the boys amazon #the boys billy butcher #billy butcher imagines #400followerstag!

[ash5monster01]

Turnstiles

Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.

Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.

word count: 2.6k

Three ←→ Five

Masterlist

Summer 1988

We hide our hearts from harder times

There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.

“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.

“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.

“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.

“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.

“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.

“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.

“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.

“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.

“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.

“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.

“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.

“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.

“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.

“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.

“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.

“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.

It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.

“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.

It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.

“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.

“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.

“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.

“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.

“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.

His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.

“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.

“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.

“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.

“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.

“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.

“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.

“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.

“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.

This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.

“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.

“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.

“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.

“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.

“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.

“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.

“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.

Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.

“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.

“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.

“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.

“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.

“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.

“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”

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Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

#steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x femreader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x y/n smut #billy joel #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery steve harrington #joe keery smut #joe keery fic #joe keery imagines #joe keery stranger things #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #joe keery #joe keery x femreader #joe keery x fem!reader #joe keery x y/n

[coraline-scarlet]

Caught in the act || Poly!Ghostface x Reader

Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

Summary: Randy's sister always have been forbidden territory, but that never stop Billy and Stu from getting what they want.

Warning: dirty talk, oral (m recive), pet names, lil exhibitionism, cursing, sex mentions

Word Count: 1527

A/N: This took me so long to write, but I love every second of it! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and be prepared because this boys is my new hyperfixation (English is not my first language, so it may contain grammatical errors)

(̶T̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶g̶i̶f̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶b̶e̶l̶o̶n̶g̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶m̶e̶,̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶r̶e̶d̶i̶t̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶r̶e̶a̶t̶o̶r̶)̶

Y/N Meeks, known as the Randy's twin (or more commonly as the hot Meeks). Even though they were twins, they never had been too close. It always seems that they have a strange thing between them. Although they're siblings and love each other, they just weren't too close. It is the way it is.

This didn't change their friends. The group was completely made by The Meeks twins, Tatum and Sidney, Billy and Stu. It had been this way since early high school.

In the group (the boys part), always had an unannounced rule. Randy's sister is out off the game. Randy made it clear since when they first became friends. But Stu, and mainly Billy, never wanted to follow this rule. And today was the proof of it.

And all this brings us for today. You ended up in the same group for a biology project as Billy and Stu, so you three decided to do it in your house. That wasn't a problem for you, and the reason was because you have been having a thing with those boys in the last months. You always find them hot and all but never thought that this could ever pass the crush line, but suddenly one day they both showed you the same interest, when that happened you couldn't say no.

It all started six months ago, when Billy finally decided to totally ignore Randy and just follow his wants. Stu always has noticed Billy's passion (obsession) in the Meeks girl, and after observing Y/N to see what makes his best friends feel like that, he totally understood. Something in the way she smiled, or how she simply ignores all the idiots comments with just an eye roll, the way her hair moved, her voice, simply her, was completely mesmerizing. After a few months from the realization, they decided something. That perfect girl have to belong to them, no matter what.

So here you are, doing some idiot biology group work with the guys you have been kissing (fucking) secretly the last 6 months. With only you three in the house, is kinda obvious that biology would turn in another thing.

"She looks so pretty down there." You can hear Stu voice saying excitedly, followed by his typical laugh.

"She looks like a doll using her mouth for something useful." Billy's voice is more husky, with a deep sigh due to the pleasure he was feeling.

In the last few weeks, you ended up not having any time alone with your boys, and that made you three very sexualy frustrated persons. And feeling as if you didn't get enough attention, you have decided to do some revenge. Using the clothes you know they like, whispering dirty things in their ears in front of everyone, and as Stu said, "acting like a flirt." The same boy had the ideia to put you here now, under the table with Billy's dick in your mouth.

The table was covered with a cloth that only could show your feet, so you just could be seen from when Billy pulled up the cloth to see your working in his cock. You can see the smirk printed in his face, his dark eyes looking at you with hunger. His stare gives you shiver that goes straight to your pussy.

You can see a little bit of Stu beside Billy, his hand jerking off his big dick with that idiot ear-to-ear smile that he always has. That scene makes your mouth salivate. Looking again at Billy's face, you're contemplating by his pleased expression, and you can't stop staring him.

"You're giving me some doe eyes, uh? Such a cock slut, aren't you?" He pulled your hair as he pushed your head lower on his member, making his cock go deeper in your throat. Your hands hold his thighs, squeezing the muscle covered by the jeans when you start to choke. But Billy continues to hold your head down for some seconds until finally let you go up.

"Man she's such a view!" You hear Stu moan as he says it. You can't stop smiling as you rest your head in Billy's lap, breathing a little before go back to his dick, but your hand never stopping to move in his member.

"Wanna test it?" Billy say now looking at Stu. The boy never would regret it.

With a little slap in your cheek, he send you for the other side of the table, when now Stu has sat. You immediately take his member with your hands, he was huge, more than Billy, just a little lass thick. You start your job when you hear the nock from the front door.

Gasping, you try to take his dick of your mouth but Billy's voice stops you. "You will keep him in your mouth. If you can suck his cock silently while we take care of it, you will have a gift in the end."

He was looking at you beside Stu, his order making your pussy melt even more. Obediently, you do it. Stu squirm inside your mouth, his hand affectionately passing through your hair. The idea of being caught makes you rub your thighs, looking for friction.

Sitting back in his seat, Billy makes sure to hide you, making it look like he and Stu are only sitting at the table with your studying stuff waiting for you.

"Hey guys, what're you doing here?" You hear Randy's voice as you continue to suck Stu.

"Biology project, man." Billy responds.

Randy only nods and walks to the fridge. All of you are in the kitchen table. He takes a can of soda, opening and turning to see the boys as he talks.

"So... Where's Y/N?" With that question, Stu pushes deeper into your mouth.

"Bathroom." Is the only thing Stu says. The room remains in silent until Randy start walking through.

"Okay. I'm leaving, have a... good study?" He start passing the room. It's only then you finally can breath, taking his dick out of your mouth. That situation makes you nervous, but something in the ideia of it is exciting.

"Oh, I forgot something!" You freeze when Randy's voice is return. "Wait, what she doing down there?" He asks as he stop walking.

You look down and see the gap in the cloth that allows you to see your feet. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Nobody says anything.

"What she hiding for?" His voice is closer, and you can now see his feet. Then he starts pulling up the cloth, and you can't even breathe.

"What are you hiding for..." Now you can see your brother's face. Everyone is freezes for a second as you stare at Randy in shock.

"Shit!" It's Billy voice who breaks the moment, and then you immediately start walking off the table, as the boys are closing their jeans and getting up, all this so fast.

"You're kidding me?!" Is Randy's first reaction. When you're finally up, you see his face.

"My sister? In my house? In front of me?!" In each sentence, his voice get even more loud.

"Hey, man, it is not that deep..." Stu said, but the anger in Randy's eyes shows this is not the moment.

"Is not that deep?!" He walks slowly to Stu. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Fuck!" Is the only thing Stu can say before everything start ruin.

Randy start to run after Stu as the boy tries to escape, and they run around the table. You scream, trying to stop Randy as Billy take their stuff quickly. Stu is running all over the house, as Randy is right behind him in screaming with killer eyes.

"Let's go!" Billy says, pushing you to the front door. "Stu!" You call, holding the door for him. And when you three are outside, you close the door in Randy's face.

All of you immediately run to the car. When the last door is closed and locked, its the exact moment Randy tries to open it.

"GO, GO, GO!" Stu shouts to Billy, who speeds up, driving away.

When you reach a safe distance, Stu starts laughing nervously. "Shit! That was insane!"

Sitting in the backseat, you look at him. "Stu, that's not the moment!" You scold him.

"No baby, Stu is right, that was insane!" Billy agrees. "But you know what? In the end, that's all for good."

"What?!" You look at Billy in disbelief. He stares back at you through the rearview mirror before saying.

"Yeah, Baby! That means we don't have to hide this anymore." You start to think abouti, and then it hits you.

"Really?" You look at him, and Stu moves on the seat so he can see you and hold your hand.

"Yes, now we can show to everyone who you belong to!" Stu smiles at you and leans in, placing a quick kiss on your lips.

You can only smile with the idea of them finally being yours. "But what about Randy and the girls?"

"They can handle it." Billy smiles to you in response. "So what do you say, Y/N? Will you date us?"

You hold Stu's hands more tightly as you keep smiling to Billy. "I'd love to!"

#poly!ghostface #slasher x reader #poly!ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x stu matcher #scream #scream au #scream 1996 #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #poly!ghostface x female reader #poly!ghostface smut #billy x stu x reader #slasher smut #slashers #billy loomis fluff #billy loomis fanfiction #stu macher fluff #stu macher fanfiction

[auras-moonstone]

mad woman — ethan landry (part four)

word count: 3,001

based on: mad woman by taylor swift

pairing: gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!reader

summary: the kirsch family and y/n set the details for the attack, and ethan does not agree with y/n’s suggestion.

author's note: this is my longest chapter yet... and my personal favourite. hope you enjoy it! thanks for all the love this series is receiving, it warms my heart <3.

previous part ; next part

MINDY TEXTED THE GROUP TO MEET HER AT THE PARK. They all knew what the meeting was about—the horror fanatic was about to revise the rules with them and possibly share her own list of suspects. Y/N sat next to Ethan after sending him a cheeky smile. The girl’s presence made him felt a bit nervous after the almost kiss of the previous night.

"Okay nerds, listen up” Mindy started “As terrifying as this all is, I'm actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time".

The girl started explaining the rules of a continuing franchise, and then proceeded to expose the suspects.

“… That means it's not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time. Especially Sam and Tara".

"Wait. Any of us?" asked Ethan. "Does- Am I in the friend group?".

"Well, you are here right now, aren’t you?” Y/N said.

"Am I, like, one of the targets?" he asked her, and she nodded. "Am I gonna die a virgin?".

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes and mouth partially open. Was that part of the innocent act or was he really a virgin? No way, right? He was too hot. "First, was that information needed? Second, no. Don't you know the rules? If you don't lose your virginity, you're safe".

"I feel like a proud mother" Mindy said, acting as if she was cleaning her tears. "Now, onto our current suspects... Ethan, the shy, dorky guy who nobody suspects because he's so shy and dorky".

"Okay, wait. Why am I on the suspect list? Because I'm randomly Chad's roommate?" he said, moving his arms frenetically.

"Roommate lotteries can be junked. You could have fixed it to get next to us" argued Mindy. Ethan rolled his eyes. Then Mindy looked at Y/N “Y/N”.

“Wait, really?” she asked, acting surprised.

“Look, I’m sorry but you are Amber’s sister. You have a solid motive” Mindy said pursing her lips. A part of her felt bad for accusing her friend, because she really loved her and she didn’t think she was really capable of murder. But at the same time she couldn’t help but distrust her a little.

Seeing Y/N’s crestfallen expression, Sam decided to intervene “Mindy, no. That doesn’t mean anything. I am Billy’s daughter and I’m no murderer”.

“Yes, exactly. Leave her out of this” Tara agreed. Y/N sent the sisters a fake grateful look.

“I’m just exposing the possibilities. I’m almost sure she isn’t the killer” Mindy said.

“It’s okay, Minds. I get where you are coming from” she smiled sadly. Ethan was impressed by her acting abilities.

The horror expert continue throwing accusations at Quinn and even at her own girlfriend.

"Wait, wait, wait. What about you guys?" Ethan asked, pointing at the original members.

"I mean, I think it's pretty safe to rule out the four of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro" Mindy said.

"Agreed" said Chad.

"Um, not agreed. What if the trauma you all went through caused one or five more of you to snap?" Quinn exposed her view.

"Yeah, or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more" continued Ethan. “I mean some of the online theories about Sam are a bit…”

“Don’t you fucking dare” Tara cut him off harshly. Y/N clenched her jaw at the tone the girl gave him.

“I mean, let’s face it. If we are suspects then you are all suspects” Anika said.

“And let’s stop this conversation right here before the tension becomes too much” Y/N said, standing up. “I have maths” she groaned.

“Let’s go. I have it too” Ethan said, grabbing her bag.

“What a gentleman” she laughed. The group exchanged glances, as if they were silently asking the other if they were seeing the same thing.

“There is no way Ethan can pull Y/N off” Mindy said, watching them have a conversation as they walk away.

“Minds, are you kidding me? They have been eye-fucking each other since yesterday” Chad said.

“I think he is good for her” Tara said.

“And I think she’s too god for him” Mindy answered.

“Don’t be like that” Tara told her “She looks happier since they started talking, didn’t you notice?”.

“Well, she better not get too attached because he has killer printed all over his forehead” Mindy said.

THE KIRSCH FAMILY AND Y/N REUNITED AT THE OFFICER’S HOUSE. The second attack was taking place that night, and they were setting the details.

“I should be there. I’m not on the top of their list, but if I’m not with them tonight, they won’t trust me anymore” Y/N suggested.

“But if you survive with no wound at all, it will also be suspicious” Ethan said.

“Then, I will have to get stabbed or slashed” Y/N shrugged.

“Are you hearing yourself?” Ethan asked in disbelief.

Y/N was touched by his concern, but it was not time for softness “I’m not telling you to stab me in the heart, Ethan. Just hurt me in some safe place, like shoulder or a slash in the stomach”.

“Are you sure? He’ll be on the run. It’s dangerous” Bailey told her.

“I’m sure” she nodded. Ethan sighed, not liking the idea at all, especially since he would be the one hurting her. “Eth, stop it. I’ll be fine” she assured him.

“We are doing this for Richie and Amber, there is no time for hesitation or feelings, Ethan. You better not mess it up” his father told him.

Now, Y/N was really glad Bailey let her join the plan, but she wanted to screamed at him every time he treated his son that way. She hated when he underestimated Ethan.

“Hey, look at me” Y/N told him as they were walking to her apartment. Quinn was a few feet away from them, wanting to give the two teenagers some space. “Don’t listen to him, okay? You are going to do well. I trust you”.

“It’s not about what he said, Y/N/N. I don’t want to hurt you” he frowned. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off “I know, I know you are okay with that and it’s the most convenient thing, but still, I am the one who has to do it, okay? And I can’t help feeling guilty, because hurting you it’s the last thing I want to do”.

Y/N caressed his cheeks softly, looking at him with pure adoration “I don’t know if it’s too soon to say something like this or what, but you became my safe place, Ethan. Ever since Amber died, I haven’t been able to feel anything but emptiness and loneliness. And then you came and absolutely changed everything. So, if I suggested you hurting me it’s because I trust you doing it, okay? But I understand your point. I’m sorry if I didn’t take your feelings into consideration. You don’t have to do it, I’ll find another way to maintain their trust”.

Ethan though about it and then sighed in defeat. “No… I know how important this plan is for you, and if you think hurting you is necessary, I’ll do it. I just want to apologize in advance”.

Y/N smiled and hugged him, her arms tight around his neck while he hugged her by the waist, pushing her against him. After a couple of seconds, they stepped back and pressed their foreheads together.

“What’s taking you so lo-“ Quinn stopped at the sight of their closeness “Fuck, I have the worst timings” she scoffed.

Ethan and Y/N laughed. There was still time for them to kiss, now they had much more important things to do. Besides, having a first kiss in the middle of the stinky and crowded streets of New York, was everything but romantic.

MINDY AND Y/N WERE SETTING THE TABLE AS TARA AND CHAD TALKED IN THE KITCHEN. Anika was watching TV on the living room and Quinn was in her room with her new guy. Poor man, he has no idea what was coming to him, and neither did the rest of the group.

“Didn’t you have Econ with Ethan today?” Mindy asked.

“Yeah, but I’m not really in the mood for that stupid class when there is a murderer on the loose” she answered, and Mindy nodded in understanding “And he offered to take notes for me, so I took the chance”.

“Of course he did” she scoffed, making Y/N look at her confused “Oh, come on, no one is that sweet and gentlemanly. It’s all an act!”.

“Mindy, come on. Stop it” Y/N sighed. “He really is sweet, and kind and funny. I like being around him. Please stop making him uncomfortable”.

Mindy put her hand on the girl’s shoulder “Y/N/N, you are way too oblivious and innocent when it comes to these types of things. That’s why I’m here, to open your eyes! There is something wrong with Ethan”.

“Minds, please drop it. I trust him, okay? And until we have solid proof Ethan is the killer, you should stop treat him as such. It’s not fair” she told her.

Mindy put her arms up in surrender “Fine. I’ll stop bugging your boyfriend”.

“He’s not my boyfriend” she blushed.

“Not yet. And if you are waiting for him to make a move you are going to get tired. I’m sorry, but that boy is a coward. He’ll never have the guts to do it” Mindy shrugged.

Y/N had to dig her nails tightly into the palm of her hand, because the impulse that came over her to grab the knife that was laying on the table and plunge it into Mindy’s throat was almost uncontrollable. The way she talked about Ethan infuriated her, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to tolerate it. She internally begged Ethan to finally get rid of her tonight.

"Guys!" Anika's voice was heard from the living room, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts "What the hell?".

The group gathered around the TV to hear the news. The reporter was informing that Sam’s therapist had been killed, and she was the prime suspect. They also showed the video of Sam fighting the random girl on the street the night of the party. The video was out of context, making her seem like a violent person. And they even brought up the theory that she was behind the Woodsboro killings of the past year.

Sam turned the TV off and went to sit on the table. Y/N watched the scene in front of her—Sam crying, while the rest of the group tried to comfort her—and serotonin went through her veins. She loved seeing them suffer, being scared, and the night wasn’t even over. The worse was yet to come.

As if on cue, weird noises started coming from Quinn’s room, indicating show was about to start. They all made fun of it, thinking it was just the roommate and her hookup. But then, the laughter came to a stop when the six phones sounded at the same time. They opened their text to find a photo of Quinn, with Ghostface behind her, stabbing her. The group stood up in a heartbeat, walking towards Quinn's door.

"Run" said Mindy just a second before the door busted open. Quinn's body was thrown at them, landing above Anika and making her fall to the ground. Ghostface stood on the door. "Oh, fuck" the person behind the mask slashed Mindy on the arm. Thanks, Ethan! Y/N internally yelled.

"Step back!" screamed Anika, hitting him. Ghostface grabbed her from the throat, pinning her to the ground, suffocating her.

"Why are our knives missing?" Y/N yelled at Sam. Of course she knew why they were missing, she hid them. Sam took the knives holder and ran towards Ghostface, who had his knife inside Anika’s stomach, and hit his head with it.

“Grab Anika, I’ll hold him back for a bit!” Y/N said to Sam. The older Carpenter took Anika and started to lead her towards the room, Y/N gave Ethan a subtle nod, indicating him it was time to be cut. The boy slashed her stomach, and she let out a curse before following Sam to Quinn’s room.

"Mindy, bathroom door. Hurry" Sam whispered. Mindy ran to the door, closing it just in time. Ghostface kept hitting the door, trying to enter the room. Sam pushed the piece of furniture in front of the door.

"Sam!" Danny screamed from the building in front of them.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she told him when he grabbed a ladder and put it as some kind of bridge that connected the two buildings.

"You have to climb one at a time" Danny said.

"You three first" said Sam.

"No, you go" Mindy told her. "I'll hold the door, you two go first and then Anika".

"Go, Y/N/N" Sam ordered her.

Y/N didn't want to discuss it. Her stomach was in pain and she already wanted the persecution to be over, so she climbed the ladder and couldn't help looking down. "Oh my god" she felt the bile coming up her throat. Her vision started to get blurry. I did not sign up for this, she internally cursed.

"Don't look down! Keep going, you have to hurry up" Danny told her.

Y/N took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the metal stairs. She had to do it as slow as possible without being too obvious. She arrived to the other side, hoping it gave Ethan time to at least manage to kill one of them.

Sam went next, and then Mindy. Once her girlfriend was safe, Anika started climbing the ladder. Expressions of panic were seen on her friend's faces. Ghostface entered the room, and was standing behind Anika. Ethan began to shake the metal ladder up and down, while the rest of the group screamed in fear. Anika was starting to lose balance.

"Anika give me your hand" yelled Y/N and Sam. They extended their arms, Anika's finger tips brushed against theirs but it wasn't enough. With one last shook, Anika fell down to her death. Her face impacted against a container, and her body laid lifeless on the floor.

Y/N hugged Mindy as she cried on her shoulder. The girl looked at Ethan, trying not to smile. She knew he could do it, and he did not disappoint. Ethan, on the other hand, couldn’t stop looking at Y/N’s stomach. He may have gone too hard on her, the cut was very large and her clothes were soaked in blood. Not bearing to see the wound he inflicted on her, he left the room.

JUST AS THEY IMAGINED, THE GROUP’S THOUGHTS ABOUT ETHAN WEREN’T VERY POSITIVE. The little trust they had on him evaporated, and now he was their prime suspect. Y/N received glares too, not because they suspected her, but because she still defended Ethan.

“His alibi’s checked out, guys. He has his Econ notes. It was just a coincidence” Y/N stood up for him.

“Y/N/N don’t be stupid” Mindy told her.

Y/N sighed “I’m not! Look, let’s just… keep an eye on him. If when the next attack happens he’s not there, I’ll believe it”

Mindy shrugged “Suit yourself”.

“Gale found something” Sam informed them.

Y/N groaned “I just want to shower and change clothes” she said tired, resting her head on Mindy’s shoulder.

“Um, you can go to our apartment” Ethan suggested.

“Alone? No, thanks” she declined the offer.

“I can go with you” the curly-haired boy said.

“Yeah, right. As if” Mindy intervened.

“Minds, I really need it” Y/N said.

“Are you sure, Y/N/N?” Tara asked her. She didn’t trust Ethan either.

“We can send a cop to the apartment, if that makes you feel safer” Bailey suggested.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you” the girl replied.

Tara sighed “Fine. Call us, okay? And take your phone off silent mode”.

“Will do. See you later, be careful” she hugged the group before going with Ethan.

As soon as they arrived to the apartment, Y/N took a shower and put on a shirt and joggers from Ethan. When she exited the bathroom, she found the boy sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for her.

His guilty eyes met hers, and she spoke before he could start apologizing “Don’t you dare, Eth. I’m fine”.

“Can I see?” Ethan asked softly. She raised the shirt a bit, showing him the scar. He traced it softly with his fingers. “I’m so sorry, Y/N/N”.

She kneeled between his legs, making them be on the same height “Eth, please stop it. It’s fine, it didn’t even hurt that much”.

“I can tell you’re lying, I can read you perfectly” he said.

“Well, okay. It did hurt, but it wasn’t like unbearable. I promise. Maybe you can kiss it better?” she joked. “Or maybe I can distract you so you stop thinking about it”.

“Both” he said breathlessly.

“I like your idea” she whispered. Her uneven breaths against his mouth made his heart skip a beat. And then everything stopped when her lips collided with his. He stopped thinking, and instead he focused on the way she was making him feel. The blood rushing throughout his whole body, making him feel warm, and the sudden urge to memorize her body with his hand, to feel every inch of her delicate skin, the feeling that he never wanted that moment to be over.

And Y/N just couldn’t get enough of him. His electric touch in every inch of her skin, from cheeks to her hips, and the way his lips danced with hers so harmoniously drove her insane. The void she once felt disappeared for a moment, and now the only thing she could feel was him—his breaths, his lips, his body, the beats of his heart, his longing. Their longing. She wanted that moment to be tattooed on her mind for eternity.

#ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion fluff #ethan landry x you #scream iv #scream 6 #scream fanfic #scream movies #ghostface #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry fic #ethanlandry #auras moonstone’s work #scream #jack champion oneshot #ethan landry drabble

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI I WILL HIT U WITH A CHAIR

Chapter 003: Best Buds

It’s BYOB (bring your own bud) night at Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. With everyone under the influence, things start to get… a little complicated.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 8k

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, brief smut, p in v sex, protected sex, implications that steve is a long boi voyeurism, marijuana use, alcohol use, sexual harassment, physical altercations, NSFW, talks of a daddy/master kink, stripping, pole dancing, mutual pining, flirting, mentions of previous sexual abuse, profanities

* AUTHORS NOTE AT END OF CHAPTER ❤️‍🔥 *

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 002 recap

"Doing it for Max," you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn't your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 003

♡

“Hi I’m Hell, it’s nice to meet ya.”

“FUCK! Oh my god — fuck!”

Steve Harrington is definitely not a loser.

An assortment of mewls and profanities fill the hot air of Steve’s bedroom as he fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, the frame of his bed rattling to the speed of his deep, punishing thrusts.

It’s 7 AM.

Though you’re typically not an early riser, you’re more inclined to be if you were promised this type of treatment every day.

“Fuck!” you squeal again, knuckles sheet-white from how tightly you’re holding onto Steve’s linens. “Right there, Steve…”

Steve’s grip, meanwhile, rests at either side of your hips as he pistons himself further into your sopping, spongy heat. Too cock-drunk to even form a coherent sentence, you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head while you take his unforgiving length from behind.

“Yeah, you like that baby?” he coos. “You like how deep I feel inside of you?”

You nod. “Yes… yes…I-I love it.”

“Looks like I’m fucking you back to sleep again, aren’t I?”

“M—mhm,” you manage to purr, reaching for one of Steve’s hands to grab a hold of.

In fact you’re already seeing stars. Sex with Steve is an extravagant experience. Now that he’s comfortable in your presence, Steve spent all night performing for you, abusing your soaking cunt to the tempo of every song on his playlist, catering to your every need in the form of profound and agile strokes, exploring every inch of your body with his firm and knowledgable tongue, all while refusing to stop until you yourself were finished.

You chant his name aimlessly as he plows into you further, tucking a pillow above your head to protect you from any sharp wooden corners. Another thing Steve prioritizes as well? Your safety. All night it’s been your pleasure first before his own. Now you know why everyone in town calls him the King. 

“That’s it…” Steve praises you as you fall apart in front of him. He smacks you firmly across the ass. You whimper at the sensation, chasing your third orgasm of the hour by fucking him back, tossing your hips back onto him, not caring the slightest if it made you look desperate. You need his cock so bad. “That’s a good girl.”

CRASH!

Something falls from the bathroom at the end of the hall. A shampoo bottle maybe? It stuns you for a second, causing you to immediately reach for the top sheet to cover up your body. You listen for traces of his roommate’s presence.

“Uh…”

“Earthquake?” Steve jokes.

“Nope,” you smugly shake your head. “It’s just you.”

You rise from all fours to turn around and give Steve a quick kiss. Steve chuckles against your skin.

“Me? It’s a team effort, lady.”

“You’re right, it’s us.”

Steve wraps his arms around your waist and guides you back down onto the bed. Laying on your back now, you watch him as he spreads your legs apart. He smiles down at you as he lines himself up at your opening.

An impatient sigh escapes your mouth. He swoops down to silence you, planting a soft kiss onto your neck.

“Steve…” you whimper.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. “You’ll get it, just you wait.”

He continues to tease you, gliding his cock along the lining of your entrance. You bite your lip and shake your head, watching him as he glides, thrusting his tip in slowly before taking it back out once more. Then he slaps his cock against your puffy, glistening folds. Your whimpers grow louder.

“Are—” you lower your voice. “Are you sure we’re the only ones here?”

“Yeah,” Steve insists, mumbling against your ear. “The roomie’s with his sneaky link. We’re fine.”

“Birds of a feather,” you retort.

Steve flashes you a flirtatious glare. “I’d never keep you a secret.”

“Lies.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges you.

What did he mean by that?

A gasp escapes your mouth before it’s even registered. Steve is inside once again, pounding into you with a pace so exhilarating, the room around you starts to blur. The little time you had to prepare leaves you both with a healthy amount of friction and resistance. You’re nearly screaming now as pressure builds between your hips and in your stomach, your pleas for more growing louder and louder with every pummeling thrust.

“If you call that keeping a secret, you’re pretty bad at it,” Steve kindly retorts, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, beads of sweat dripping down his pomade-sculpted hair onto your breasts.

“Oh m-my fucking god,” you squeal breathlessly. You’re silenced by Steve’s fingers as they assert themselves into your mouth.

“Oh my fucking god is right, babydoll.”

He issues a delicate slap across your face. You bite your lip, gazing up at him with lust-filled eyes. Snarky King Steve is your favorite Steve.

“Keep going, Steve. Don’t fucking stop.”

Before you know it, he’s bending you like a pretzel, your legs at his shoulders, knees to the tip of your earlobes. Steve slams himself into you, excruciatingly fast and balls deep, all while his hand explores your mouth, then jaw, then find a home around your throat. Another delicate slap brushes across your face with his other hand, followed by a “Yeah, baby take it”, causing you to mewl even louder.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other begin to sound more wet with every thrust, the moans you two exude bounce off the walls as you fuck into each other. You feel your walls tighten at the same time his head starts to twitch.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” Steve huffs. “Do I feel that fucking good? Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“Yes,” you attempt to say. “I’m such a messy girl, Steve.”

“That you are,” he swoons, swooping down to plant kisses all over your face. “Messy. Dirty. Naughty. And all mine.”

Four more aggressive pumps into you and you’re both done for.

“Oh my god…”

“Fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Ohhh fuck.”

Giggles take the place of moans as you and Steve collapse onto one another. You two lay there in disbelief, then share another laugh followed by a high five.

“Good game,” Steve jests.

“Rematch later?” you wink.

Although Steve doesn’t answer, you know it’s a yes. As you roll over to drift off into a small recovery nap you feel another slap land on your ass, followed by the sound of the trusty rubber rolling off your partner’s cock.

“So fucking beautiful.”

——

9 AM

After care is essential for Steve. Lover boy loves to cuddle. He’s there when you wake up, arms snaked around you, with gleaming eyes and a rather itchy peach fuzz that you didn’t stumble upon until he was giving raspberries to your neck.

“You lasted longer this time,” you comment teasingly. You issue him a delicate boop on the nose.

“Yeah, cuz we’ve been doing it all night,” Steve tsks. “You caught me off guard the first time around, Hargrove.”

You pout. “Aww. Was I kicking you when you were already down?”

Steve pulls you to his chest, giving you a squeeze the further you lean into him. “You absolutely were, you devil woman.” He kisses your forehead and beams down at you with a smile.

“Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

So you two rinse up together, and Steve lets you borrow one of his t-shirts to parade around his luxury townhouse in. He did offer you some basketball shorts he had lying around on his couch, but you decide that hopefully, in just his shirt and your new lace black panties, it would entice him for round five.

Suddenly your phone buzzes. It’s Max.

Hey where r u?

You bite your fingernails as you contemplate a believable answer. Where could you possibly be if your supposed shift ended two hours ago?

Post shift mimosas with coworkers. Be back around noon.

You wait. Buzz.

As you should 🤪

You smile before exiting out of your conversation with Max. It vanishes quickly when you remember there’s still a text you haven’t responded to.

What the actual fuck.

It’s been a week now since Billy sent that text. And with him being the type to spam, it’s strange that he hasn’t called or texted again. Especially since it had been Max’s birthday.

You shudder, overwhelmed with a sense of panic yet again. In hopes of postponing reality to the next day, you plant your phone face down onto Steve’s bedside table. It all made you feel stupid. Like an infant who believed they were hiding just by closing their eyes.

You walk out into the hallway and find Steve in the kitchen, frantically trying to find you something to eat.

“We need to go shopping again,” Steve announces. “So the only choices right now are eggs, sausage, toast, cereal..and the Cuties over there.”

You make your way over to grab a tangerine while you browse the cereal section. 

“Well, I had sausage this morning,” you joke. “And a cutie. So I’ll go with eggs and toast please.”

“Coming right up. Sunny side?”

“Scrambled.”

“Anything for you.”

You claim a seat at the messy kitchen island, decorated by mountains of bills and guy stuff galore. As Steve is cooking, you sit and admire the man who Hawkins calls the King.

Steve tries. It shows in everything he does. Behind every positive attribute about the man, looms a cautionary energy accompanied by a sense of guilt. It’s almost if “King Steve” refuses to take up space. Something, or someone, made him this way. Made him so guarded and delicate, yet so willing to give and help.

Before you know it, Steve hands you your Shy Girl-tailored breakfast, fluffy golden eggs with golden buttered toast to match, served with a glass of orange juice on the side. You thank him and he nods, tossing a dish rag over his shoulder and walking to the sink to clean up. With how sweet Steve is with you in bed and on a friendship level, the sole idea of him makes you wonder what he’d be like — years from now — as his one real dream: a husband, a dad…

The sound of a toilet flushing jolts you back into focus. Both you and Steve freeze in place.

“Shit,” Steve sighs.

Roomie is home.

Steve quickly wipes his hands and darts to his room, scurrying to find a shirt to mask the hickeys you left on his chest. Meanwhile you scramble to the couch to find the basketball shorts you passed him up on earlier. You didn’t want to give his roommate the wrong impression, though you kind of feel like you did, screaming like a banshee because you thought no one was home.

You’re tunnel-visioned as you scan the couch for shorts. Let’s see… TV remote, no — football, no — random backpack and baseball cap —

Wait. Is that a Hellfire shirt?

Your eyes widen. It can’t be. Steve wouldn’t withhold such vital information from you, would he? Maybe Steve really likes supporting Eddie’s business.

But then you think about it. You really think about it.

You think about Steve’s comment he made as he was leaving Hellfire. "Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home."

At home.

“The roomie won't be home…”

The use of “the roomie” instead of “my roomie”. Typically “the” is only used if someone knows of the person being mentioned. At least that’s how you yourself word things anyway.

“The roomie’s with his sneaky link.”

Eddie’s lady friend. Eddie only goes to see her during the most ungodly hours because she’s a bartender.

You feel so stupid. For more reasons than one.

Eventually you find Steve’s basketball shorts and throw them on, running back to the kitchen island where you then try to play cool. You turn back to the scattered envelopes laying around the island — all addressed to an Edward Munson.

In the words of your twin brother, what the actual fuck.

“WOOO — Harrington!” a familiar sing-song voice echoes from down the hall. “You definitely don’t wanna go in there!”

You recognize that voice from anywhere.

Whistling sounds from the end of the narrow hall. Coming out of the bathroom was none other than your boss, dressed down in a black muscle tank that revealed his avant-garde black and white tattoos, and royal blue gym shorts. His hair was up in a messy half-bun, the loose curls that were too short tie up are a cluster of anarchy around his face.

You make it into Eddie’s periphery, but he doesn’t do a double take until he realizes it’s you.

“Oh hey!” he greets you, somewhat expressionless. “You on tonight?”

As if seeing you in his apartment is the most casual thing ever. 

You’re completely swamped with humiliation. It’s bad enough that Eddie practically heard you scream bloody murder, but now he knows exactly what you’re like in bed. He knows how you like to be handled. How embarrassingly cock-drunk you get when your partner hits the right spot. How pornographic and raunchy you act when you’re with the right person.

You’re also dressed like Adam Sandler. So there’s that.

It takes everything in you not to grab your stuff and leave. But it is that same ick in your body that keeps you glued onto the bar stool of the island.

“Y-yeah,” you huff. “Sure, I’ll work.”

“Totally should…” Eddie sings again. “Midweek is always popping. Everyone always wants a lil sumn sumn on Friday Junior-Junior.”

You study Eddie as he strides over to the fridge, insipid and unbothered. Tired, if anything. 

Steve comes out of his room with his own Hellfire shirt on, trying his best to keep his cool as he clears his throat. “I, uh… I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“That makes the three of us,” Eddie laughs dryly as he rummages through the fridge. “But here I am…”

You observe him as he hums along to a random tune, scanning the fridge for something quick and easy. He settles for what looks like coffee creamer, which brings you back to the time that Dustin said Eddie operates on coffee and an empty stomach. 

You try to focus on something else. Anything. Eyes-a-wandering, you catch sight of Steve’s old championship trophies from his high school swim meets, pictures of him and his boujee ass family at TopGolf, pictures of him with old friends at an actual golf course, glass cups from breweries all around Indiana and The States, and the expensive smart electronics that ornamented the place.

But not a single trace of Eddie and his life or family. The mystery of him sucks you in a little more.

Eddie stalks towards you, extending an arm across to pick up the bills waiting for him on the table. The world stops for a moment.

“Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologizes. “The maid took the night off.”

An inferno pools at your cheeks. Was the ‘mess’ remark a jab towards you? Your thighs clench when the flashbacks of morning sex with Steve replay in your head. “Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“You’re fine,” you manage to say.

Eddie proceeds to pour himself a drip coffee then douses it in an unreasonable amount of hazelnut creamer.

You cringe at the sight. Sometimes a crush is just a lack of information.

Steve attempts to speak to serve as a filler for awkward tension, but you beat him to it.

“S-”

"So," you press. "How are things with the lady friend?"

Eddie makes a sour face. "Called it off," he shrugs. "Well, she did."

Your ears slightly perk up.

You feign a tone of dismay. "Oh no! What happened?”

"Guess our lifestyles don't mesh well with one another,” Eddie rolls his eyes, as if he knew it was some sort of excuse. He draws on about the ordeal. “She doesn't like that I'm always at work. I can only see her in the early hours of the morning, and with the amount of paperwork I have to do, I’d honestly rather be spending my free time sleeping or playing video games."

"Well, you should stop working so much,” Steve suggests. “It could help balance shit out more.”

Eddie snaps his neck at Steve.

"You think I didn't think about that already?" he scowls through gritted teeth. "It’s like the moment Eddie's gone, everyone forgets how to do their jobs. I always gotta come in to make sure they’re all staying on task.”

He turns to you.

“Take Mike for instance,” he explains. “Fucking chickenwithhisheadcutoff. Lights are on, but nobody’s home.”

You laugh.

“He was the one who forgot to take inventory on the 10th and 11th,” Eddie pops a scoop full of Honey Combs into his mouth. “Yet he was asking me if he could bring his girlfriend to the club.”

“Ohh,” is all you can say.

“I don’t mind all that lovey dovey shit,” Eddie mutters between bites. “But if it’s gonna distract him from working, that’s where there’s a problem.”

“Totally reasonable dude,” you agree.

“Yeah, Mike gets really distracted when El’s around,” Steve pitches in.

Eddie nods. “Ed’s got his own set of rules for a reason. The Munson Doctrine is a byproduct of when all the things that can possibly go wrong, have gone wrong.”

You watch Eddie stroll towards the windows by the balcony and prop them open, an indicator that he’s about to smoke. He grabs a tiny bowl that he seemed to know was laying around and loads it up with bud. He lights up and takes several large hits.

“So what’s everyone’s plans for tonight?” Eddie questions eyes darting between you both.

You and Steve didn’t think that far.

“Not too sure yet,” Steve answers for you two. “I do know we gotta go shopping again.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie nods towards the cereal. “Tired of eating hamster food every morning.”

Eddie takes another hit, coughing away the excess like a madman.

“I’m hosting another BYOB night at Hellfire with the frens again,” Eddie continues once he calms down. “Been a minute. You should swing by.”

“Bring your own booze?” you ask.

“Getting warmer.” Eddie replies.

“Beer?”

“Cooler now.”

“Then what?”

“Bud,” Eddie replies raspily, nodding at his own amusement. “We’re still a red state, so we get our shit from Illinois. BYOB is specifically for the party. Edibles only, for obvious reasons. Still a fun time though.”

“Cross-faded on a random Tuesday, what’s more enticing than that?” Steve says. You’re not sure if he’s sarcastic or not.

“Exactly, Harrington!” Eddie hollers. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Is Nance gonna be there?”

Record scratch. Eddie looks at Steve like he asked a dumb question.

“She works there.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve glares at Ed.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Is Nancy gonna be at the table? No, probably not. You know her. Total opposite of Mike. When she’s at work, she’s at work.”

“Yeah...” Steve mutters with a sigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll think about it. What else ya doing today before this?”

Eddie explains that after paperwork and grocery shopping, he plans to go over to Chrissy’s place to look at her car. It causes your heart to flutter. Business owner, manager, cook, music fanatic, and mechanic? Mr. Jack-of-All-Trades after your heart again.

Eddie shakes his head, evidently overwhelmed with all the responsibilities on his lap. “Hellfire would crash and burn without Cherry.”

“Wow, you do so much,” you comment, attempting to uplift him. He grins at your remark. You decide keep going. “Anything you can’t do?”

You feel Steve stare between you both, then clear his throat as he paces around the kitchen.

“Stop it,” Eddie chuckles, growing slightly flustered with his pink-tainted cheeks. “Kinda true though. I do everything and anything.”

“Yeah, especially for Chrissy Cunningham,” Steve jeers.

“That’s also true,” Eddie shrugs, attempting to conceal his now fully flustered face. “We done now?”

“We are actually,” Steve says. “Lucky for you, I gotta go get ready.”

Steve shoots you a wink and then excuses himself back to his room. Meanwhile, it’s just you and the other man you have a burning crush on.

Something shifts when Steve disappears. To shake off the unknown feeling that’s mingling in the air, you make your way over to the fridge. You hope that pretending to be busy excuses you from another conversation.

But before you know it, you feel Eddie’s stern — and marijuana-laced — breath on you just moments later. The torment is never ending.

The moment you turn, you’re met with Eddie’s big brown eyes. He speaks first.

“I was joking, you know.”

Whatever banter that was being exchanged earlier has now switched off. The pitch of Eddie’s voice has dropped a few frequencies, and that act alone captures your attention. Shooting your gaze towards him, your brow lifts.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to work tonight,” he elaborates shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’re well staffed. There’s a seat for you at the table… if you’d like to come with.”

“I’m your friend?”

“I thought it was clear.”

“You haven’t even taken me to lunch yet.”

“You haven’t given me the chance.”

Fair play, Munson. Eddie waits for you to talk. You study your superior as he studies you, his chocolate eyes slowly becoming eclipsed by the widening of his jet black pupils. Hunger was unknown feeling that was mingling. It’s burning in your stomach now. Its essence that lingered between you both is the only thing keeping you two from standing any closer.

“Cross faded on a Tuesday,” you repeat Steve’s sentiment. “Sounds like a Friday ordeal.”

“Well when you work as much as I do, you try to make every day feel like Friday.”

Oh this man is stressed stressed. Something in Eddie’s hopeful stare convinces you that a simple “yes” would make him a little happier about tonight. But you don’t want to seem too into it.

“I’ll think about it,” you tease.

“Ah, come on…” Eddie tuts. “Steve will be there.”

You blush.

“And your ol’ boss,” Eddie ominously adds, propping his shoulder against the fridge as he leans. “If that counts for anything.”

Another loose strand of hair from his bun falls across his face. He shakes it away with a cinematic nod. You feel stupid for falling for your Eddie’s natural charisma. He does it with everybody, you remind yourself. It’s what makes him a good business man. You aren’t anything special.

“Will there be wings?” you decide to deal the inside joke you share.

“Flats only,” Eddie insists, feeding into it.

“Now that sounds like a good time.”

“Always is, sweetheart,” Eddie grins. “Can’t wait for you to experience it.”

Before he too excuses himself, Eddie hugs you, doing the verbal kiss on the side of your cheek once more before letting go. It never fails to leave you in a puddle.

No rizz, my ass Dustin, you think to yourself.

“See you there then, gorgeous?”

“You sure will.”

And just as quickly as Eddie disappears, Steve returns, sporting a basic grey Patagonia tee and khaki colored Dickies. His sunglasses dangle from the center collar of his shirt, his green and yellow “Camp Know Where” dad hat clipped onto the same belt loop that housed the keys to his BMW.

He meets you halfway by the island, giving you a soft kiss once more.

“I’ll let you hold onto that shirt,” he says. “It looks good on you.”

“Why thank you,” you reply. “Smells just like you too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck just as he does your waist before they explore the birthmark region of your lower back. Your breath hitches.

“I should probably stop,” Steve bites his lip. “I gotta walk you to your car.”

“I know, maybe next time,” you frown. “Also, you didn’t tell me Eddie’s your roommate.”

Steve’s face falters slightly. “I… didn’t think it’d matter.”

He’s right. Ultimately it didn’t matter. If you didn’t shut up, you’d tell right on yourself.

“I know!” you end up saying way too enthusiastically. “It’s just that he, uh, heard everything.”

Steve dismisses it. “Let him,” he says. “I’m sure he hears and sees it all at the club anyways.”

Steve bites the bullet and gives your ass cheeks a tight squeeze. “Besides, he can watch if he’d like. We’ll give him a little show…”

Your breathing scatters again, to which you give Steve a playful nudge.

“You’re unbelievable.That’s where your dirty little mind goes?”

“What can I say?” King Steve smirks, forehead pressed against yours now. “I’m a voyeur.”

“Clearly,” you wink.

Birds of a feather. As much as you didn’t want it to, your mind wanders back to Eddie and how he is most likely a voyeur too. Why else would Hellfire be an asset of his?

The entire commute home is spent fantasizing about both Steve and Eddie. You have absolutely no idea what you're doing and what to do in this situation. Would this even be considered a triangle considering how casual everything appears to be?

With everything unknown there is one thing is for sure: tonight, both of them are getting some kind of show from you.

—————————————————

‘Friday Junior Junior’ is relatively staffed.

Mike and Dustin flicker across the room, darting back and forth to bus tables as soon as customers leave. Skating on the thin ice he’s on, Mike works quickly and efficiently, while Dustin takes his sweet time, attempting to multitask while talking to Suzie, one AirPod in at all times.

“Yeah, babe, I’m in Kas’ Korner,” Dustin lies. “Doing some food packing.”

You watch him as he wipes the table quickly after spraying some cleaning solution onto it, eyes glued to the job in front of him instead of center stage. He does sneak a quick glance at Chrissy, though. Then looks around to see if anyone noticed. You do, but you pretend not to. It’s funny. 

“I’ve seen her get richer in the pole, I’ve seen her. I knew she had to know.”

You're sat between Steve and Eddie at the VIP table, watching Chrissy alongside everyone else. Joining you three are Argyle and Henry, who both were miraculously able to find themselves coverage. Jim is bouncer for tonight, while Lucas has the kitchen covered after months of begging Eddie and Argyle to let him cook.

Looking over at Steve, you see him beaming up at Chrissy and decide to join him in showering her with his — many — dollar bills. Argyle joins in too, to your concern since he promised the group he'd buy everyone drinks when you guys all go bar-hopping later.

"Chrissy is amazing," you sigh, shaking your head in pure admiration for the starlet dancing in front of you.

"Isn't she?" Eddie responds. He delves into his pocket to pull out his phone. "All the ladies here are pure and absolute fuego."

Drawing your attention to his device, Eddie opens an album in his camera roll titled, "Hellfire Girls". He starts showing you short clips of the dancers, one by one, explaining what they're doing and how in awe he is of them.

“I notice that the girls like wearing pasties for tops that tend to have spaghetti straps or very little fabric coverage,” he says. “Or for when they don't feel like showing their tits. Saves you too when The Girls decide to pop out when you’re upside down. Always the fucking left one too."

You giggle at his remark.

The eloquence and respect Eddie has about the female body and wardrobe mechanics has you enticed. It's evident how much Eddie respects women and values their comfort. But he is also a man, and it's no secret that someone like him enjoys watching. And Eddie is never shy to admit when he likes what he sees.

He shows you another video of another dancer, Emmy.

“Emmy’s a fucking beast,” Eddie gushes. “She can do a split right from her side straddle. Kassidy’s the same, but the Pegasus is more of her strength. Lady’s got arms and core for days. It’s fucking hot."

He swipes again.

"And Justice knows how to do a Dragon's Tail, it’s a crowd favorite.”

Eddie's already had a few drinks tonight, so the filter he already seemed to lack is practically non-existent now. Steve is on the same boat, downing his third cocktail and not giving a damn how much he blows tonight on the dancers. You all the while, are one dangerous cocktail in and are already horny out of your mind. It doesn't help that Jonathan has a heavy pour, and that every drink he makes tastes like juice.

"Cheers to that," you smirk, raising your glass to clink with Eddie's.

“I’ve seen her take down that tequila. Down by the liter. I knew I had to meet her.”

"Maketh way everyone," Henry announces, asserting himself back into the VIP section after leaving not too long ago. “Bottle service a-la-Henry."

You turn to Hellfire’s bouncer, who ditched the casual attire tonight for a more classy black formal suit and a matching Rolex watch. His sandy blonde hair is extra sleeked up and away from his face. According to Henry, he never usually dresses up unless there's a special occasion. You suppose BYOB night is one of those events.

Henry acknowledges the cocktail in your hand before nodding towards the bottle of Don Julio that he’s holding.

"Tell me, Shy Girl," Henry starts. "You up to ditch that for something a bit more challenging?"

Eddie fires a curious look towards the interaction.

You eye the Don Julio that was luring you in, and ultimately decide to take Henry up on it. Flashing him a sinister smile, you instruct him, “Hit me.”

Henry slowly starts towards you, tilting your chin upwards once he pops the cap open. With your consent he starts to pour the tequila down into your mouth.

Fuck being responsible tonight.

An array of "WOOO"s and "OHHH"s fill the air around the VIP section as everyone cheers, shocked that you’re able to chug all of that without it burning. Little did they know, Don Julio tastes just like home. Well, south of the border from home.

After holding down your own fort for way too long, you've decided that someone else needs to be handed that baton for tonight. Since you didn't tell Henry to stop, you're still chugging what he was pouring into your mouth. You know it’s risky, especially since you had two edible gummies several minutes ago as well.

“Oh my god,” Eddie gawks as you settle for a final gulp.

“Shy Girl’s not so shy,” Steve comments, absent-mindedly, arms wrapped around your waist as he keeps you propped upwards. "Good job, baby. That's how you do it."

“That’s it, Hargrove," Henry smirks. "Swallow all that for me?”

You peer up at him and hold your eye contact as you swallow, making sure Henry knows that there's no more alcohol left in your mouth. Everyone knows you championed that shit. When you’re done, he wipes the remnants of tequila off your bottom lip.

"This one's dangerous, Eds," he comments, completely shocked by what he just witnessed.

"Don't I know it," Eddie breathes. "Not really living up to the Shy Girl name, are we Hargrove?"

You feel Steve's grip around your waist tighten. Assuming he was being possessive over you, you turn to offer him your undivided attention. Instead, you end up looking over at a clearly intoxicated Steve, leaning onto you for gait support as he smothers you with affectionate kisses all over your shoulders, ear, and neck.

"Shy Girl," Steve mumbles. "Shy Girl Hargove... Not-So-Shy-Shy-Girl."

You turn back to Eddie, meeting those carnivorous eyes once again. He's breathing heavily against you now, that this time he's not even hiding it.

"Yeah well the Shy Girl thing is all an act," you quip at Eddie flirtaciously. "Looks like there's still a lot for you to learn about me."

Eddie rolls his tongue around in his cheek as he eyes you up and down. He presses his palm gently onto your knee that rested closer to him and rubs it. "Can I crash your class then? Professor?"

Before you can respond, Chrissy bounces her way on over, ecstatic over the amount of tips she made.

"Wh- are you guys all drinking without me?" she exclaims when she approaches the table.

You turn to see her pouting ever so playfully, but then smiling when Argyle hands her a shot of the Don Julio. She too downs it like it's water.

"WOOO!" Chrissy cheers, raising the empty shot glass into the air. "To Hellfire Club!"

"To Hellfire Club!" everyone follows.

Everyone resumes taking shots and celebrating once again, this time with Chrissy joining the party. You watch Eddie as he feeds her an edible, another one allegedly, upon her request. He rests a delicate hand on her cheek, watching her chew, then grazes her cheek when she swallows the gummy, eyes glued on him the entire time.

“Good girl,” he mouths.

Chrissy flashes a playful, flirty grin before excusing herself from the table to go and give patrons a dance. She is stopped midway by a familiar, friendly face.

"Aht, aht," the friendly face stops her. "Not so fast, missy. I have some stuff for you."

"Oh, that's right!" Chrissy giggles. "Thanks, Nance."

To Steve's utter shock, House Mom Nancy makes her way to the VIP table. You feel him tense beside you, attempting to sit up straight and pretend that he's sober. You and Steve take in Nancy's effortless beauty, the way her straight brown hair was neatly kept in a bun, black square neck cocktail dress with transparent black tights underneath fitting her body like a glove, with nails that were always cleaned, polished, and painted a neutral color. Nancy is always so effortlessly pretty, but tonight she looked extra good.

“Here are your extra pasties, love,” Nancy reports while handing Chrissy her boob tape. “And also some spare bobby pins.”

“Thank you!” Chrissy chimes.

Nancy proceeds to take Chrissy's tips, tucking them neatly into a pouch that has a cherry design on it. As she finishes up with Chrissy, Nancy's eyes travel over to meet Steve’s. 

“Hello, Steve,” she attempts.

“Hey, Nance,” Steve says, eyes filled with sorrow.

Nancy’s eyes fall onto you. The air seems awkward now, most likely because Nancy read the room and figured out that you and Steve are probably sleeping together. You can’t hide your thoughts. Your face speaks for you, and judging by the way you struggle to make eye contact with your house mom, she knows now that you know of her and Steve's history.

“Hey you!” Nancy cheers, trying to mask the tension.

“Hey Nance!” you join in. “How are you tonight?”

“Good,” she smiles. “Not working tonight?”

“No, just here to support Chrissy,” you smile back.

“Awesome!”

If Argyle and Henry didn't know you two are hooking up, they sure as hell knew now. They exchange a lightning quick glance at once another and do their best not to do anything that could potentially worsen the situation. Not that it was bad. It was just painfully awkward.

It’s silent for a bit before Nancy clears her throat. “Okay then, I’ll see you guys later.”

All of you bid goodbye to Nancy and try to carry on with the rest of the night. The boys have no issue going back to what they were doing. Meanwhile, you look over at Steve who has gone pale and looks like he is about to throw up.

You rest a hand on top of his. Steve flinches before turning to look at you.

“Are you okay?” you question him.

He sighs and nods. “I will be.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you remind him. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

"You're right," Steve frowns. He grabs your hand to kiss it. "Thanks for being so patient with me."

"Of course," you insist.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom to freshen up," he says before ruffling your hair. "I'll be right back."

Your eyes trail after Steve to ensure his safety as he saunters over to the bathroom. When he makes it safe, you turn your attention back to the boys who are, of course, talking about sex.

"Alright you guys," Argyle speaks up. "Let's talk about it. Do you guys have a daddy kink?"

You're intrigued. You gaze travels over to Henry and Eddie who are trying to contain their excitement on the topic. They're trying to act like this is not something they wanted to talk about, but judging by how tightly they're holding onto their drinks and fixing the way they were sitting a little bit too often, they are more than giddy about this topic. Or anything sex-related.

"No not really," Henry shrugs. "But master kink, yeah. I like to be called master and all that stuff."

"Ooh, you're one of those freaky ass fools," Argyle says. "I see, I see. Eddie what about you?"

"Do we really have to talk about this?" Eddie chuckles.

"We sure do, you little freak," Argyle nudges him.

Eddie laughs to himself, staring down at the bottle of beer he's currently drinking. Slowly, he starts to nod, causing your heart to do sommersaults. This night keeps on getting better.

"Yeah..." Eddie answers. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"What's the reason behind your daddy kink?"

"Just think it's hot," Eddie shrugs. "I like taking care of the girl while she unravels right under me. Think it's also a power thing. I like taking over."

"You a choker?"

"Dude, am I?" Eddie exclaims. "Fuuuck yeah! I'm like the fucking waiter at Olive Garden with the grated cheese. Tell me when to stop."

The boys burst out in laughter. Eddie continues with an explanation.

"Cuz I'll keep going."

You are too cross-faded for this right now. Your environment starts to get hot, and you can't tell if it's because of the alcohol or the information Eddie was dumping on everyone causing your cheeks to flush.

"And you know what they say," Henry adds. "Everything is about sex, but sex is about power."

"Power, women, same thing," Eddie says. "Fucking love it."

His eyes fixate on you.

"What about you Shy Girl?" Eddie questions you, his voice deepening. "What are you into?"

Chrissy's screams could not have come at a better time. The whole club nearly pans their attention to her when as shrieks.

“You fucking dickhead!”

Startled, Eddie shoots up. “What? What the fuck happened?”

“I turn around to straddle him and his dick was out.”

You look over to where Chrissy is.

Absolutely fuming, Eddie turns to Henry.

“Creel..."

"Oh I am so glad I am not on the clock," Henry fumes. "I'm gonna fuck him up so bad."

You watch as Henry removes the black blazer he has on along with his watch and shoes before darting towards Chrissy and her perverted patron. You are about to witness what you have been warned about.

"Put that back in your fucking pants dude, what the hell are you doing?" you hear him demand.

"I was just-"

"Quiet. I don't wanna hear it."

"She was talking me up all nice. Not my fault this bitch can't put out."

You turn to Eddie and swear that his eyes have gone black. Yet he refrains from going there himself. He knows well enough that he can't get involved as a manager. There would be a lot at stake if he did.

After arguing back and forth with the customer, Henry digresses when he realizes he's talking to an arrogant brick wall. That's when the unthinkable happens. You watch as the customer practically flies out of his seat, at his mercy now that he is in Henry's unbelievably tight grip. He tries to fight it, swatting at Henry's hand, attempting to kick him in the groin. Henry seems amused. As if that poor customer has a chance.

You almost hear a SNAP.

"Oooh," you hear the crowd hiss painfully.

The customer wails helplessly on the floor as Henry continues to have his way with him. Chrissy, extremely overwhelmed, dashes to the bathroom as she puts her cloak back on, trying to hide the fact that her face is now completely red and full of tears.

Your eyes pan back over to the customer who is now sprawled out onto the floor. Henry abandons him after hissing a cruel, "Get your shit together then get the fuck out" at him and spitting onto him.

He excuses himself to go get Jim to drag him out. You're way too stunned to say anything to him, eyes glued on the customer whose limbs are now bent to a perfect 90 degree angle, neck seemingly displaced, shoulders misaligned with every other part of his body. There's a pool of blood and sweat on the floor. Or maybe that's piss.

"These assholes need to be mindful of how they treat women," Henry snaps when he returns. "Cuz one of these days, they're gonna find the One."

It's difficult for chaos to phase you now, especially since physical confrontations like this used to occur every day at home. But nothing could have prepared you for the aftermath of getting fucked up by Henry.

“Jesus,” you heave. “I didn’t know the human body could bend like that.”

“Naturally it can’t,” Henry corrects you.

“Evident by the bones snapping all willy-nilly,” Argyle adds.

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that, thanks,” you reply.

Eddie sneaks up behind you.

“Told you it was grody,” he says.

Steve emerges from the bathroom, slightly less pale, but still heavily intoxicated. He looks over at the customer, eyes wide.

"Jesus." You can tell he already knows what happened. Steve also seems to know who took care of that person. "I always tell myself I'l get used to it, but damn."

You go over to embrace him. He embraces you back, kissing you across the forehead with his liquor heavy breath. Although you wanted to be with him for the rest of the night, you knew he had to go home. When Steve glances elsewhere, you confiscate his car keys. Eddie guides Steve back to his seat at the VIP table, giving him small words of encouragement as they go.

"That's it, easy there, Big Guy. Almost there. You good?"

You stride over to POTIONS where Dustin just so happens to be now. Judging by how close he and Steve are, you trust him to take him home.

"Dustin," you begin.

"Yes, m'lady," he answers.

"You mind staying with Steve for me?" you request. "I'm gonna be with Chrissy for a bit, but I think he might be ready to go home. I'm not sober so I can't take his car."

"Oh no," Dustin peers over at Steve. "Let me guess, he saw Nancy?"

"Yup," you confirm handing Steve’s keys to Dustin. “They said two whole words to each other."

"That's two more than they usually do," Dustin mutters, accepting the keys from you. “But yeah, I got you. I'll be right there."

You let the men be men, re-enacting Henry’s bone-snapping marathon with the customer. Ditching them, you make your way to the bathroom, where you saw Chrissy run to, to check on her. The sound of sniffling in the stall furthest at the back is the first thing you hear.

“Chrissy?” you call out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insists.

A gag followed by some a mass that sounds like vomit shooting into the toilet contradicts that statement completely. Chrissy continues to throw up profusely as you make your way over, crawling under the stall to get to your new friend.

Chrissy is hugging the toilet now, clinging onto it for dear life as if it were going to run away from her.

"Room's spinning," she justifies.

“Yeah, you are most definitely not fine," you sigh. You pat her back to console her. "Are you just overwhelmed by everything? How many milligrams did you take?”

“How many are in three?”

“Jesus Christ!" you shout. "Chrissy!"

“They weren’t doing shit,” Chrissy pouted. “I felt like I needed something strong…” she’s interrupted by her own gagging once more. “Stronger. The edibles just weren't kicking in…”

“So we wait, love!” you exclaim. “We wait for them to kick in. We don’t take it upon ourselves, especially if one gummy is 20 milligrams.”

“Waiting around is for chumps.”

The room falls silent as Chrissy proceeds to self soothe, spitting remnants of her emesis into the toilet and focusing on her breathing. You decide to speak up again.

“How do you feel after what just happened?”

“I don’t,” she answers. “Eventually, you just grow numb to it. It’s part of the profession.”

“Harassment shouldn't be part of the profession."

"But it is."

"It shouldn't! Surely we can get Henry and Jim to do more training so this doesn't happen. We can take self defense classes?"

Chrissy sits up. She turns to face you, running a hand through your hair.

“Oh my baby,” she pouts. “My dear Baby Stripper. You’ve got some shit to experience before you truly know that none of this shit is preventable." She looks off into the distance. "You’re very brave for wanting to do this. I always used to tell girls who want to get into the industry to run as fast as they can."

You're no stranger to harassment and abuse, but you couldn't imagine what strippers go through on a daily basis. Unwanted gestures, having genitals exposed to them that they did not intend on seeing, stalking, retaliation, violence, kidnapping attempts. And these poor men and women who are just trying to make a living have to just accept it.

"There's so much I don't know about the industry," you admit to her. "And to a certain degree I am still naive about it all."

"That's why I'm so protective of you."

"I'll be fine, Chrissy," you reassure her. "I'm more worried about you. You're such a cute little cinnamon roll, I'm the protective one."

"You're so sweet," she says. "You have to promise me that you're gonna say something if anyone tries shit with you."

"Of course," you nod. You start to get scared. Chrissy is saying all this as if it was bound to happen tomorrow.

"And that if anyone at all seems like a threat, you let Jim, Henry, or Eddie know right away," Chrissy continues. "And Jonathan is in on it too. Just ask him for an angel shot and he'll know exactly what to do."

"Mhm," you nod again. "Yeah, you got it."

The extents women have to go through to keep safe...You shudder in fear. It's only temporary, you remind yourself. It's only temporary.

It's not too long after the incident that everyone, the party included, decides to disperse. Argyle volunteers to take Chrissy home and they leave in his van. Henry stays behind and talks with Jim, explaining to him what exactly went down with that one customer. Meanwhile, Steve is sitting at the VIP table, nearly passed out, but Eddie and Dustin work together to get him to his feet.

“Alright,” Dustin announces. “I’m taking Steve home before he starts simping over Nancy again.”

"Shut up, dude," Steve mumble, using nearly all his body weight to lean on Dustin.

You walk over to give Steve one last embrace, leaving a delicate kiss on his cheek as he drunkenly sways back and forth in your grip.

“Goodnight Steve,” you smile.

“Goodnight beautiful,” Steve says. “I’ll text you when I’m home safe.”

“Please,” you encourage him. “And drink water.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles hazily. “You drink water.”

After they leave, you return to the VIP table to order yourself an Uber. You're still intoxicated, but it's simmered to a buzz now. Before you can even navigate to the app, some tight jeans and combat boots make their way towards you, keys to a certain van out back jingling around his fingers.

“Ready, Shy Girl?” Eddie asks you.

“Huh? For what?”

“I’m taking you home.”

_____________

author’s note: thank you so much for all your kind words regarding this fic thus far!! 🥹 and thank you for being so patient as i had a family emergency this week so posting was delayed! didn’t wanna rush posting either because i care about the quality of my work and you guys deserve the best!! i added a bunch of y’all to the tag list and am so excited to have you guys along for the ride. revising/editing ch 4 as we speak :)

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tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe , @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2

#Spotify #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #hellfire club #steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #Steve and Eddie #steddie and reader #Eddie and reader #steve and reader #Chrissy Cunningham

[morningberriesao3]

Bully!Scoops!Steve Harrington X Dom!Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve and Eddie don't get along. Never have, never will. One night, after their shifts end at the mall, Eddie finally releases some of that pent up aggression that he's been harbouring for years.

Word Count: 13.6 K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… mildly dubious consent, aggression, fight sex, hate sex, spit kink, internalized homophobia and homophobia language, aggression, face-fucking, under-negotiated kink, choking, gagging, car sex (semi-public), dirty talk, degradation, allusions to anal sex, anal play, cum eating, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, voyeurism, light s&m, light dacryphilia

Tags: enemies to lovers (but they’re actually enemies), Steve Harrington’s Scoops Ahoy uniform, Robin Buckley/Eddie Munson friendship, pre-season three, Eddie hates Steve

All characters are—and always will be—18 or older, whether explicitly stated or not

Hate the Way It Feels So Good

Eddie and Steve don’t get along.  

It started as far back as middle school, when cliques started forming and kids started dividing themselves into two very distinct categories: cool, and not cool. They were basically on opposite sides of the spectrum. Natural born enemies.

Steve did things like toss balls into hoops and get sweaty in the gym with a bunch of other dudes, and then corner Eddie at lunch hour and call him the queer. As if he was the one chest to chest with Billy fucking Hargrove an hour earlier, sliding all over him in a tangle of pent-up testosterone.

But no, Eddie was the queer, because he spent his time playing Dungeons and Dragons with his fellow nerds.

At first, it was just another word that got tossed at him. Freak, loser, dork. Queer. At first, Eddie didn’t let it get to him.

Until he was fifteen years old, and he suddenly noticed Trevor Brown’s shoulder muscles underneath his t-shirt. The way they stretched the fabric and made it cling to them like plastic wrap. How the hem of that same shirt rode up above the band of his jeans when he lifted his arms above his head to expose a strip of skin. And how Eddie wanted to run his fingers on it.

The word queer from that day on felt like a bullet flying from a loaded gun.

For three years, Eddie tried to suppress those feelings. He dated Liv from his D&D club for half of that time—thought maybe he could learn to love a girl. To look at her skin the same way he’d looked at Trevor’s all those years ago.

Four months into dating, Eddie and Liv had sex. The whole time, it felt like there was a stone the size of a cherry pit stuck in Eddie’s throat. One that he couldn’t for the life of him swallow down. He didn’t want to look at her. Felt his fingers shaking with something that wasn’t lust as he dug them into her hips. Had to consciously remind himself to keep his eyes on her and not the ceiling, the walls, the pillows. Not to keep them squeezed shut.

He dated her for ten more months after that. They had sex a dozen more times. It never got easier.

Eddie’s friends would talk about their hookups, how good they felt. How they hoped they could do it again. And Eddie just felt nauseous at the thought. He’d make up excuses that he wouldn’t be home, that Wayne would be home, that he was sick, that he had homework, guitar lessons, a family obligation, a job interview. Anything to keep Liv out of his bedroom for as long as possible.

In April of 1984—Eddie’s first time in grade twelve—he decided to break things off. He had to focus on his grades next year, he said, and she was finished with high school, so he really didn’t have the time. All excuses, but she seemed to accept them without pause.

It was about a month after that, that Eddie went to Indianapolis and kissed another man for the first time. Three seconds into it before he realized exactly what his friends had been talking about—his body reacting in a way it never had before. Carnal desire. An urge to go further, to not stop. No cherry pit lodged in his tonsils.

The next months came with a lot of internal loathing. And then experimentation. And then… not quite acceptance. But something close.

It helped that he met band geek Robin Buckley near the end of the school year when they both happened to wander into the practice room one lunch hour. They bonded pretty quickly over music, even though their tastes didn’t intersect that often. But they were both unpopular and quirky and had very little filters, so it was easy enough to form a friendship.

Eddie was able to tell her one summer night as they got high by Lover’s Lake, that he thought he was gay. It only came out when she started blubbering about her crush on Tammy Thompson and then started blubbering harder to try to cover it up.

Needless to say, Eddie and Robin became very close, very fast. She was the only person who knew all of Eddie. And he was the only person who knew all of her.

Eddie was thrilled on Robin’s first day at Scoops Ahoy a year later. The ice cream shop sat directly parallel to Camelot Music where he worked a few hours most days after school, and even longer shifts on the weekends. He knew he’d be able to sit at his register and steal glances of his friend struggling to get through training, and then later, on the slower days, they’d be able to sneak into the hall and cause trouble.

His giddiness was squashed when he saw who the second hire was.

Steve Harrington, standing with his too-big hands on his swimmer’s hips, his eyebrows pinched together above the bridge of his nose, staring down at the buckets of Vanilla-Bean-Caramel and Pineapple-Raspberry ice cream as their boss showed them how to form a proper scoop. Robin stood next to him, looking far less perplexed—and annoyingly calm about having to work next to Eddie’s arch nemesis. Not that she really knew the extent of his hate, beyond the few times he muttered prick under his breath when Steve’s name was mentioned.

“He’s not that bad,” Robin had said when Eddie cornered her after her first shift.

“What do you mean he’s not that bad? He’s a total fuckwad.”

Robin simply shrugged one of her shoulders and said, “I never said he wasn’t.”

Eddie had let it drop that night. But it got harder and harder as time went on.

It was the last day of Steve Harrington’s high school career, 1985, when Eddie took his first swing at that perfect Roman nose of his.

Eddie had been minding his own fucking business in the cafeteria. He can’t remember exactly what had riled him up, but maybe he was being a little flamboyant in a public place. Sometimes he just can’t help himself. But he wasn’t hurting anybody as he scurried around his table and tried to make his friends laugh.

Jason Carver—prick supreme—had something to say about it (as always), flanked by none other than Steve Harrington, who seemed distracted as he zoned off into the distance. “Keep your voice down, freak.”

Sometimes, Eddie had enough control to keep his retorts to himself. But not this day. “You seem to seek me out these days, Carver. I would argue that you like my voice.”

Jason’s nose wrinkled. “You wish, queer.”

Steve seemed to zone back into reality, his eyes narrowing in on Jason and then on Eddie, who twisted his features up into a mockery of a flirtatious smile and said, all too sweetly, “Oh, I do wish. Why don’t you come on over tonight, Jason, and I’ll show you just how much.”

Steve choked on his own saliva then, as if he couldn’t hold back the gag from the thought of someone being gay. Or maybe more specifically, Eddie being gay. Either way, it pissed Eddie off to no end.

“You have an issue, Harrington?”

Steve’s eyes widened, but then he schooled his face back into a mask of nonchalance. “Nope.”

“Really? ‘Cause it seems like you have an issue.” Eddie stepped into Steve’s personal space. Their shoulders brushed against each other. “Maybe you want to come over instead. This queer can show you a great time.”

The look of pure horror on Steve’s face might have been hilarious if Eddie hadn’t been feeling so fired up. “Absolutely not, man. No way.”

“Bit of a bigot, are we, Stevie?” Eddie puffed himself up as big as he could get. His chest bumped into Steve, who took half a step back in shock.

“I didn’t say that,” Steve had said, almost defensively. For a second, Eddie almost thought he would turn around and leave him alone. Until Steve’s eyes found Jason’s, and he tacked on for good measure, “I’m just not like you.”

Eddie saw red. “Like me?”

“Yeah. You know. A fairy—”

Eddie’s fist nearly whistled through the air as he tried to connect it with Steve’s face. Only, Steve’s reflexes were pretty great after all his years training in whichever sports Eddie knew nothing about, so he managed to sidestep the swing. Jason grabbed Eddie’s wrist and laid his own punch against his cheekbone. Eddie landed flat on his ass in front of a growing crowd of school kids who were thrilled about a brawl breaking out.

Five minutes later, Eddie had found himself in the principal’s office, getting reprimanded about how next year would be his last chance to graduate, and how he was ruining his future by getting into fights, and maybe he just needed to go to church over the summer to help find his path in life.

Jason was asked if he was alright and was sent home with a pat on his back.

It has been two weeks since that incident. The cut on Eddie’s cheek from Jason’s knuckles has nearly healed.

He’s currently running his finger over what’s left of the scab, staring through slitted eyes at Harrington desperately trying to flirt with girls, even as he’s dressed in his stupid sailor’s outfit.

Eddie snickers to himself, watching the girls side-eye each other. They giggle condescendingly as they walk away from the ice cream counter. Another fallout.

He notices Robin take out a dry-erase marker to add another tally under the “You Suck” category of the T-chart she made for Steve. At least she’s humbling him, even if she doesn’t agree that he’s the worst person to ever walk the planet.

It’s a Saturday, nearing four o’clock. It’s time for Eddie’s break, and he always stops by Scoops to see if Robin can join him. This has led to way more interactions with Steve than he would ever like to admit, but they’re usually short-lived. Eddie glares at Steve, and Steve stares back at him like he might catch the Freak Disease if he gets too close. It’s a routine.

He hands the keys to his coworker and slowly makes his way across the tiles of the wide mall hallway. Steve sees his approach, and Eddie can see the panic set in. Steve’s puppy eyes go large, and he turns quickly on his heels. He tears the dumb sailor’s hat from his perfectly coiffed hair, saying something unintelligible to Robin.

Her eyes lock on Eddie just as he approaches the register. “Ahoy, Eddie. Are you ready to set sail on this ocean of fla—”

“Can it, Robin,” Steve cuts in from his now lazy stance at the back of the shop. “You don’t need to do the whole spiel to Munson every time he visits you at work.”

“But it’s funny,” she argues. She turns to Eddie. “Don’t you think it’s funny?”

“It’s hilarious,” Eddie says. Any chance to disagree with Harrington. “I would be so disappointed if you were to stop. Please, continue?”

“Are you ready to set sail on this ocean of flavour?” Robin wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at Eddie. “I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Har—”

“I knew it!” Steve whines. “I knew this was a way for you to make fun of me!”

Robin unleashes a vault of snort-laughter that sounds like she’s been holding it in all day. Eddie has to physically contain himself from joining along, especially when he sees how disgruntled Steve looks from the low blow.

“It’s not like I want to say that shit,” Steve continues. “They told me to. I’m just doing my job—I just—It’s just—”

Eddie slaps his hand over his mouth, but he can’t stop himself from giggling alongside Robin. It’s especially ironic that Steve is so pressed about getting made fun of when just two weeks ago, he was joining alongside Jason to do that very thing to Eddie. Call it karma.

“Whatever.” Steve crosses his arms defensively over his chest. “Assholes. Leave me alone. Customers are coming.”

Robin takes her time slipping her hat from her head and placing it on a stool behind her. The group of young women appear in front of Steve, who also abandons his hat. Showing off his hair must be the only chance he has at getting laid anymore.

“Ahoy ladies, I’m St—” Steve’s eyes dart sideways to a snickering Robin, and then at Eddie who can feel one of his brows raised like a dare. Steve clears his throat. “I’m Steve. What can I get for you?”

Eddie scoffs at the same time Robin snorts and says, “See you in an hour, Dingus.”

Steve ignores her.

They leave the ice cream shop and make their way to the Burger King in the opposite corner of the food court. Finally, Eddie feels far away enough to ask, “Dingus?”

“Yeah.” Robin scans the menu behind the counter like she’s not just going to order the chicken sandwich. “He’s totally a dingus. I thought you’d agree on that one.”

“There are a lot of colourful words I’d use to describe Steve Harrington,” Eddie mumbles. “But I guess a dingus is a start.”

“There’s the spirit.” Robin slaps Eddie on the back, totally unaware that he is once again stewing over the jock that makes his life a living hell. “Let me buy you something. Whopper or Nuggets?”

“Nuggets. And fries, because all this talk about Steve is really putting me through it.”

“He’s really not that—”

“Not that bad. I know, you’ve said so a thousand times. But do you see my damn cheek?” Eddie points to the nearly healed wound like Robin hasn’t watched it through the red-to-purple-to-yellow healing phases.

She purses her lips and seems to choose her next words carefully. “Right. Okay. But from what I understand, Steve didn’t punch you. Jason did.”

Eddie stares at her incredulously. “Seriously? You’re gonna get hung up on the details? He called me a—” he lowers his voice to a whisper “—a fairy.”

“I know. And that is seriously not cool. But Jason called you a queer,” Robin retorts, just as quietly. “Fairy is better than the other F word he could have said.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending him.” Eddie points to the cashier who is now waiting to take their order. “I also want a Coke.”

Robin rolls her eyes but buys Eddie his meal, which he thinks is the bare minimum that he deserves after all this emotional distress.

The hour seems to fly by, and Eddie thanks whatever power there might be in the universe that Steve doesn’t get mentioned again. Until the walk back to their respective jobs.

“Oh—I forgot to mention. Steve is taking over the closing shift tonight, so I won’t be catching a ride with you.”

Eddie hovers between Camelot Music and Scoops. “Ugh. It’s so desolate here for closing. You better hope I don’t get murdered walking alone in the parking lot after dark.”

“You’ll be fine.” Robin turns away, heading towards Steve who looks like he’s struggling with a gaggle of children ordering milkshakes and sundaes. Eddie swears he hears her breathe under her breath, “Steve will be here.”

Eddie tries not to let that statement paint his face in a scowl for the rest of his shift, but as he inches closer to the clock chiming 9pm, he feels himself failing. It is way too obvious that, yes, Steve will be there as he closes shop. The rest of the food court close their doors at 8, but for some reason the owner of Scoops thinks that an ice cream shop has to stay open late. Like there are children that will be needing their sugar fix before bedtime.

As if.

There are a few other stores besides Camelot that also close at 9, but they’re located near Entrance C. Meaning, for the last hour of his shift, Eddie is forced to stare at Steve pacing behind the fluorescent lights of his ice cream coolers while he sits and simmers behind his own register.

Every now and then, Eddie swears he can see Steve look over in his direction. But each time he turns his head to catch him and hopefully be able to scream out what the fuck do you want?, Steve’s gaze is back on his Nikes.

It’s a major relief when it’s finally 9, and Eddie can swing the gates closed to the front of Camelot. He decides to take longer than usual to tidy up shop, carefully folding the t-shirt display and making sure to pull stock forward on the shelves so they look full for the morning staff. He cashes out, drops the envelope into the safe in the ground, and wipes off the counter. The lights in the front of Scoops have been off for roughly seven minutes (not that Eddie has been staring at the clock since they went dark), so he figures it’s safe to leave from the back entrance.

The heavy door latches behind him as he steps into the giant parking lot. He’d only been half joking with Robin at the mention of getting murdered. It would be a prime spot for some crimes to be committed after dark like this—only a few vehicles still scattered the pavement, far and few between. His van is the farthest of them all.

Regardless, he sucks in a breath and starts to make his way across the eerily quiet lot. It only takes him a few seconds to get a strange tingling sensation on the back on his neck, like he’s being watched. He opens his ears, realises that he can hear a second set of footsteps beyond his own. And they sound close.

Eddie whirs around with his fingers clenched into fists, ready to strike at—

“Steve?” Eddie huffs a sigh of relief, but then realises he still might be very much in danger of getting his ass kicked. He keeps his hands balled up. “What the fuck, man? Why are you following me?”

Steve isn’t exactly geared up to fight. He’s walking on the other side of the lane, his hands in his pockets. Maybe not relaxed, but a lot more relaxed than Eddie feels.

“I’m not following you. I’m walking to my car.” Steve lifts one of his hands from his pockets to point at the burgundy BMW parked a few dozen feet away from Eddie’s van. “I closed. Didn’t Robin tell you?”

“She did, but you closed up ten minutes before I left. You should be gone.”

Steve shrugs. “I was in the back.”

“Convenient,” Eddie says under his breath, mostly to himself. “Look, man, I’m really not in the mood to get jumped tonight. My face is barely back to normal from the last time.”

“Uhuh. How’s that healing?” Steve’s eyes trail over Eddie’s body, like he’s scanning for damage. Eddie feels himself tense under the scrutiny, wondering why Steve might be sizing him up. What kind of carnage he has in mind. Why it sounds like he’s actually curious about Eddie’s face and not being sarcastic. Impossible. “About what I said—”

“What,” Eddie spits, “that I’m a fairy?”

“Yeah—”

“You know, I find it funny.” Eddie keeps his voice low and menacing, a nod to his DM charade he puts on for Hellfire Club. “You go around calling me a fairy like you aren’t the one who got his ass beat by the quiet, gentle photographer not that long ago.”

Steve’s face twists up in confusion. “Byers?”

“Mhmm. I thought you were supposed to be king. Oh—but wait—that title was recently taken from you, wasn’t it? By… who was it again? Oh, yeah, Billy Hargrove.” Eddie’s teeth ache around the name. If there’s anyone who gives Steve a run for his money being Captain Asshole, it’s Billy. “He’s the one I saw you rolling around with, all sweaty and topless in the gym, isn’t it?”

Steve’s face seems to stain red. “He’s on the basketball team.”

“I don’t know. It all seems a little”—Eddie waggles his fingers—“homoerotic to me. Wouldn’t you agree?”

It seems as if Steve has to physically swallow down his rage. Eddie knows it’s not safe to poke the bear, but he just can’t help how he gets around the guy.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Eddie scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Let me dumb it down a bit for you, Stevie. Put it in terms you understand.” He gets so close to Steve’s face that they almost bump noses. “Queer. It seems queer.”

Steve’s jaw visibly twitches, and Eddie can see that his fingernails are biting into the palm of his hands, much like his own. “I’m not like that.”

“You keep saying that,” Eddie condescends, “but each time it’s feeling more and more like an excuse.”

“Shut up.” Steve’s hands twitch at his sides as if they’re begging to be unleashed in a fit of rage. It should be enough to make Eddie back down.

But his own fists are trembling. And his heart is hammering. And he’s filled with a heat that he needs to let escape.

He takes a step into Steve, who stumbles back to create more space between them. “Is that what this is, Harrington? Some sort of coping mechanism?”

“Shut up.” Steve’s eyes seem tumultuous beneath their hazel irises. His skin is staining red. His jaw looks locked.

Just a few more words.

“Are you…” Eddie makes his voice sound mockingly disappointed. Disgusted. “Are you a fag?”

Steve’s composure snaps.

A fist full of Eddie’s t-shirt is suddenly clenched inside one of Steve’s unforgiving fists, tightening around the base of his neck, pulling him flush into the solid mass of Steve’s chest.

The breath is knocked out of him. His hands instinctually grasp around Steve’s grip as he’s virtually hoisted onto his tiptoes. Even though they’re of similar height, it seems that Steve is staring down the bridge of his nose at Eddie. He can feel hot breath puffing against his lips that smells as if Steve just had a smoke.

Eddie braces himself for impact—his own doing, really. But at least he got a word in edge wise. He knew he’d never be able to beat Steve in a fight.

But Steve just… keeps him there. Menacingly close. Bodies shoved against one another. His eyes bore into Eddie’s threateningly. Eddie feels a rush of endorphins, excited to see what Steve does next.

For what seems like ages, Steve doesn’t make a move. Eddie sees the bob of his throat when he swallows, and the angry glimmer in his eye extinguish. He drops Eddie’s shirt and takes a step back.

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds as he regains his footing. He’s not sure why Steve didn’t take his chance. There’s nobody else in sight. They’re even out of view from the closest road.

And for some reason… he’s disappointed. He knows he doesn’t really want a shiner. But the way Steve was staring at him—is still staring at him—he’s curious what might have come of… whatever just happened.

His body is still twitching with pent up energy, and anger towards Steve for the last years of his life that have been a living hell thanks to him, and Eddie already feels accomplished standing up for himself. So he takes it one step further.

Eddie looks straight into Steve’s eyes, and says, “Pussy.”

And he spits straight onto Steve’s white and red Nikes.

He turns before he knows what Steve’s reaction might be. He feels invigorated, and wildly in danger. And all he needs to do is get to his van, get out of the parking lot and he would feel like he won.

But Eddie barely makes it outside of his van before Steve is bulldozing into him, rougher than before. The metal wall of his van makes a hallow thump as Steve drives him face-first into it, one arm slung around Eddie’s neck in a chokehold, the other locking around his waist and elbows to immobilize him.

“You think you’re gonna spit on me and just walk away, Munson?”

Eddie squirms in Steve’s grip, shivering against the hot feeling of Steve’s breath so close to his ear. The wall of his van is cold as it’s pressed up against his cheek. And for some reason Eddie can’t explain, all he can think about is the press of Steve’s crotch against his ass, driving him forward, his fly dragging across his hip—

No. No.

That’s not what this is.

That’s not even what he wants. Steve is the bane of his existence, not some hot bar hookup in the alleyway.

“Fuck you, man. Get off me!” Eddie struggles against Steve’s grip. It shouldn’t surprise him how strong he is, considering the guy plays sports 24/7, but he’s a little taken aback when he can’t even get Steve to let up by one measly inch.

Steve only presses harder into him. Eddie’s cheek smooshes against the cold side of his van, probably smearing dirt all over his cheek. It’s been ages since he’s washed it. “You’re the one who fucking spat on me, Munson.”

“And I’d do it again,” Eddie growls, twisting his face up into what he hopes is an intimidating smile.

“Bullshit.” Steve ruts against Eddie so hard that his chin hits his van and snaps his jaw shut. But then, just as quickly, he’s free from Steve’s crazy wrestler’s headlock. He twists around as fast as he can manage, only to find that Steve didn’t step too far away. He’s just standing there, cockily, like he doesn’t believe Eddie could harm a single perfect hair on his head. “Do it then.”

Eddie gawks back at him, slightly phased by Steve’s dare. “What?”

“Try it,” he repeats. “See, I think past your hard exterior and don’t-give-two-shits personality, you don’t actually have the balls to pick a fight with anyone, let alone me—”

Eddie feels a fire travelling to his head. It’s uncontrollable. In a normal circumstance, Steve would be right; Eddie would like to remain lowkey, keep himself out of trouble. But he refuses to let Steve Harrington, of all people, bully him into backing down.

So he purses his lips and spits right onto Steve’s, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Eddie can see his saliva caught on the bottom of Steve’s mouth as it hangs open in stunned silence. It travels down his chin, and then across the angle of his jaw. Finally, it drips onto the pavement below their feet.

He knows he’s essentially started a war, so Eddie balls up his fists and waits for Steve’s next move. What he wasn’t expecting, was for Steve’s tongue to flick out and catch the bead of spit that still remained on his pout; and even less, him sucking that lower lip between his teeth to clean it off.

The breath is sucked right out of his lungs as Steve stares straight into his eyes and catches the collar of his shirt in his hand once more. There noses bump against each other. And their foreheads. And their chests.

“You fucking freak,” Steve says lowly. But it’s paired with his thigh shoving between Eddie’s legs hard enough that it makes his balls ache as his driven against the side of his van. He tries to stop it, but his cock twitches, the seam of his jeans rubbing against it in a frustratingly amazing way.

Something about the threat of violence mixed with friction, a body pressed against his own, a low voice growling in his ear, and an objectively attractive man, gets Eddie going. Even though he’s ashamed that he’s getting hot over a guy he was more than thrilled to see beaten to a pulp earlier in the year.

He wiggles against Steve’s thigh. It doesn’t help the throbbing between his legs. “Back away, Harrington.”

“Make me.”

“I swear to God…”

“What? You swear to God, what?”

“You have three fucking seconds, man!” Eddie shouts. What comes after three seconds? He’s not sure. But that’s all Steve has before Eddie does it.

The threat doesn’t help. Steve starts counting down with a sneer on his face. “Three… Two…”

All of Eddie’s pent up rage channels through his fist.

“One!” Eddie finishes, and clips Steve in the jaw with his knuckles. It sends a shock through his wrist, up into his forearm.

There are a few things that go through Eddie’s mind in that moment.

First, he’s wildly proud of physically standing up for himself. It has been years of letting guys like Harrington and Carver and Hagan touch him without repercussion. It’s time he got a real hit in.

Second—even more than being proud—he’s frightened. Because Steve’s gaze is so fiery that he swears he can almost see his eyes starting to glow red.

This brings Eddie to his third and final thought. That he’s about to die. Because Steve is going to fucking kill him. He’s kind of ashamed to admit that his tummy hurts from the nerves of it all.

Steve only stumbles backwards half a step, Eddie’s shirt still balled up in one of his fists, whose legs are still splayed around Harrington’s strong thigh. Steve’s free hand comes up to wipe at his lip, which Eddie now notices has a split in it that is starting to bloom red. They both stare at his skin stained up with blood as he wipes it away.

“You…” Steve starts, his eyes wild as they dart around Eddie’s face. “You made me bleed.”

Eddie swallows down his fear, manages to spit out, quietly, “You deserve it.”

Antagonizing a guy who has thirty pounds on him is probably not the best idea. But he’s already done the worst. Might as well really commit to the schtick.

He holds his breath. Waits for Steve to make the next move, which he assumes will be his own split lip, maybe another bruised cheekbone, maybe a broken nose.

Steve’s thigh presses even harder between his legs. Eddie’s balls throb against the pressure of it, the feeling of his weight bearing down on Steve’s leg, the solidity of his knee. Eddie tries to wiggle his way away from the pain, but it stirs something in the pit of his stomach. The familiar feeling of pleasure, a need for Steve to move against him.

Eddie makes a noise, soft and quiet. It could mean anything, really; that he’s uncomfortable, or scared, or even angry.

Only he knows for sure what it really means.

That he’s turned on. That his cock is twitching as blood starts to rush south.

And that he really needs to get off Steve’s thigh before he sees it. Feels it.

“Steve,” Eddie says desperately, his toes barely scraping the pavement below them. Each time he moves, it makes his dick pulse. He wants to wiggle away, but he knows it will only hinder him. And if Steve finds out that Eddie’s getting hard, he’ll probably be beaten within an inch of his life.

That’s why he’s shocked when Steve rams forward, and aggressively presses his lips onto Eddie’s.

There’s this moment where, rationally, Eddie cannot believe that Steve is kissing him. His mouth is parted in shock, he can feel Steve’s hot breath, his smoky tongue shoving deep into Eddie’s mouth, the distinct flavour of blood—a coppery tang—dancing on his tastebuds. And for a second—purely on instinct—he kisses back. The wet slide of their tongues gliding together, as brief as it is, makes Eddie groan into Steve’s mouth.

But then, reality strikes.

He shoves against Steve’s chest, forcing their faces apart. “What the fuck, man!”

Steve stumbles back, his leg finally dislodging from between Eddie’s. He wipes at the corner of his mouth, maybe to catch the blood, or maybe the spit. He looks wild as he stares into Eddie’s eyes. “What? You gonna hit me?”

Eddie clenches his jaw. His face is burning up. With rage, with desire. The line between the two is starting to blur. “It seems like you’re asking for it.”

“Maybe I am,” Steve says, with a glimmer in his eye that challenges Eddie. Some sort of silent communication. A dare, or… an invitation?

Eddie swallows down the feeling that this must be some sort of joke, that Steve’s trying to catch him in some sort of gay act that he can use as fuel against him to make his life a living hell. But Steve wouldn’t kiss Eddie just to get a reaction from him. He rationally knows that. But still, his eyes scan the parking lot, searching for any signs of Steve’s friends who might be waiting for the opportunity to jump him.

There’s nothing. No one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he makes a fast and impulsive decision, slipping the key into the back door of his van and prying the doors open.

Eddie points inside. “Get the fuck in.”

A few second pass, Eddie nearly drowning in nerves that maybe he’s reading the situation wrong. Maybe this isn’t some kink thing for Steve, maybe the kiss wasn’t a kiss and was… fuck, he doesn’t even know.

But he doesn’t have to worry too long, because Steve—jaw tight—pushes past Eddie, and hauls himself into the back of the van. His head bows under the low ceiling as he circles back, gives Eddie a look somewhere between inquisitive and angry, and then finally sits down on a crumpled blanket. His shoulders rest against the back of the passenger seat, his legs bent and spread in front of him.

Steve reaches down and squeezes between his legs, where Eddie just now notices the distinct outline of his cock, sitting sideways in his little blue shorts against his hip bone. Against his better judgement, his mouth waters.

A large part of him wants to ask Steve what’s going on. What he wants. How far this thing is supposed to go. Whether or not it’s a game.

But the other part of Eddie—albeit, the smaller one—already knows the answers to those questions.

He pulls all of his confidence out of the recesses of his mind, decides then and there that he’s running the show. That Steve likes him running the show.

“Pathetic,” he says, letting all of his malice towards high school jocks, towards Steve, seep into his tone. “You’re getting stiff from a split lip and my spit running down your face.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just fists his fingers into the blanket under his body. He cants his hips forward, as if he’s answering Eddie. Showing him just how hard he really is by displaying the bulge in the front of his shorts.

Eddie holds back the moan that he desperately wants to loose.

He’s seen Steve in a state of undress before. Not completely, but enough to know that the panes of his chest are flat and solid, that his skin always seems sun kissed, even in the winter, that he has a patch of chest hair that he’s started to grow out since quitting the swim team. He’s always noticed the lump in the front of Steve’s Levi’s. Knew that he was packing from that alone.

But now he can see just how big Steve really is as his cock strains beneath his uniform.

Eddie takes a step forward, cocks his head to one side as he sizes Steve up.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” he says.

Another step forward.

Steve’s brows twitch inward, almost apologetically, but he still doesn’t say anything. Just stares up at Eddie with the biggest, roundest hazel eyes he’s ever seen.

Eddie shoves his boot between Steve’s Nikes, uses it to pry Steve’s legs further apart.

A small gasp escapes Steve’s lips as his knees fall open, the hems of his shorts riding up his thighs. Eddie lets himself ogle the strength of Steve’s legs, how the hair that grows on them thins on the soft inner portion, the closer it gets to his crotch.

He plants his boots on either side of Steve’s hips, bends down to grip his fingers in the red bow on the front of Steve’s shirt. “What a fruity little costume. Where’s your hat?”

Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Pocket.”

“Put it on.”

Steve lifts his hips, his right hand reaching under him to fish out his uniform’s hat from the back of his shorts. Eddie tries not to tremble as Steve’s crotch gets closer to him. He suppresses the urge to sink down onto it, to feel the outline of Steve’s cock against his ass. To rut against it and listen to the noises he can ring out of Steve.

Steve quietly places the hat on his head, fidgeting with his hair, adjusting the way it sits. Eddie reaches out and smacks away Steve’s hand.

He condescendingly studies Steve, makes sure to really stew in the silence as he trails his eyes over Steve’s appearance, from the dumb hat to the dumb shirt, to the… strangely not dumb shorts. At least, not dumb in the way they fit Steve, the way they look riding up his thighs.

Slowly, Eddie sinks down onto his knees, hovering over Steve’s crotch. Only inches separate them, where Steve is hard and Eddie is now almost just as hard, and for a moment he thinks about how bazaar this all is. But he decides not to focus on that.

“Ahoy,” Eddie says, his voice low and amused as he flicks his fingers over the brim of Steve’s hat. He leans further down, feels the brush of Steve’s upper thighs against the ass of his jeans, hears the way Steve’s breath catches in his throat. He slaps away the dumb hat, watches it fly to the other side of the van. “Never mind. You look better without it.”

Then, he lowers himself the rest of the way, until he’s fully seated in Steve’s lap. Their faces are inches apart. Steve’s eyes are blown and glassy, and Eddie can feel the subtle twitch of his thighs as he presses himself harder onto Steve’s crotch.

“Shit,” Steve breathes. His hands loosen from their balls by his hips, lift up to instead splay on Eddie’s thighs as they clench around Steve.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Eddie laces his fingers through the thick top of Steve’s hair. He can feel the crunch of hairspray as he tugs Steve’s head back, exposing the long column of his throat. The tendons strain as Eddie twists his hand tighter in Steve’s locks, forcing his head sideways. “Seems a little gay to me, Stevie.”

“Shut up—Ah!” Steve cries out as Eddie tugs harder; he can feel the tension of Steve’s scalp as he forces his head so far back that the angle of his jawline is right by his lips.

Since the opportunity presents itself, he leans forward and drags his mouth against the line of Steve’s jaw. Steve smells like the remnants of the expensive cologne that still clings to his neck after his shift, like the cigarette he’d been smoking in the lot, like sweat and man.

It drives Eddie crazy, makes him open his mouth and nip down behind Steve’s ear sharply, then run his tongue over the spot he pinched when Steve whimpers softly at the pain.

“Look at you,” Eddie says lowly, trailing his teeth down Steve’s neck. He can feel his heart beating erratically under his lips as they trace his pulse point, can feel the bob of his throat as Steve swallows his nerves. “So excited to have another man in your lap.”

“I’m not gay.” The denial in Steve’s voice is genuine.

A part of Eddie feels bad, like he should drop it, like he shouldn’t push. But it feels good to make Steve suffer for all the years he said the same things about Eddie. At least this was between them. Eddie hadn’t been so lucky when he’d been called queer in front of the entire school.

So he lifts his head higher, bites on Steve’s lower lip, sucks on the split to force blood back up to the surface. He can tell it hurts as Steve twitches away, but he soon leans into Eddie’s kiss when it softens again, parting his lips to let Eddie lick deep into him mouth.

“No?” he says, pulling back from Steve even though the latter chases his lips with his own. “Then why do you love my tongue so much, hmm?” He grinds his ass against Steve’s straining cock, makes him moan into his face. “Why are you ready to bust from me touching you?”

Steve’s eyes flutter open. He looks conflicted, but past the point of coherency. “I don’t know. I—I don’t know.”

“You want to know what I think?” Eddie doesn’t give Steve a chance to respond, just lowers his face until he can feel the brush of Steve’s ear on his lips. He whispers, “I think you’re the fairy.”

“No!” Steve cries, but his hips grind against Eddie as he chases the friction he craves.

“Oh, baby.” Eddie circles his hips. He can feel the line of Steve’s cock getting caught on the back seam of his jeans each time he moves, Steve’s eyes rolling into the back of his skull like it’s driving him mad. “Then why are you about to take my cock into your mouth?”

Steve’s eyes go wide, and he starts to shake his head, but Eddie is already climbing from Steve’s lap, pulling him by the collar of his shirt onto his hands and knees.

Like a good boy, he stays where Eddie moves him.

“Take this off,” Eddie says with another tug of Steve’s shirt. He untangles his hand from the fabric, leans back to watch as Steve grabs it by the hem and pulls it from his shoulders. Steve’s abs flutter and tighten as he tosses his uniform across the van, and resumes his position on all fours. “Fuck. That’s good.”

Eddie straightens out on his knees. His belt clinks as he undoes the heavy buckle, Steve’s eyes bugging out when he undoes his button and tugs down his fly.

“I’m not—”

“Shut up,” Eddie interrupts.

Steve’s eyes are latched onto Eddie’s cock tenting his boxers, his pink lips pulled between his teeth.

Eddie leans forward, popping his thumb into Steve’s mouth instead.

“Open wide.” He pries Steve’s jaw open with a twist of his fingers. If he’s being honest, he’s not met with much resistance. Steve’s mouth just kind of falls open willingly. “Stick your tongue out.”

A small moan falls from Steve’s throat as his tongue lolls out of his mouth, dripping and pink, pushing on Eddie’s thumb. He runs it against the valley of Steve’s tongue, spreading around the little pool of spit that makes his cock kick under his boxers.

“Now stay still,” Eddie says, bringing his wet thumb to the front of his underwear. He shoves them down, his cock springing free so close to Steve’s face that he has a hard time not immediately ramming forward. He tucks the band under his balls, drawing them tighter against his body, creating a delicious pressure that makes him throb with want.

He wraps his fingers around his shaft, gently. He doesn’t want to work himself up too quickly, wants this thing that’s happening to last as long as it can. He knows his dick is already wet from how much he’s leaking, but he still brings his thumb—covered in Steve’s spit—to circle the slit of his cock.

Steve’s eyes watch, transfixed, as Eddie pulls away—a string of his precum connecting this thumb and the reddened tip of his cock.

“Jesus,” Steve says, his voice full of lust. His sticks his tongue back out before Eddie has to tell him to, a long rope of saliva falling from it onto the van’s floor.

Eddie is so hard that his cock is curving upwards, the veins under his skin so swollen that they seem as if they might burst. It feels like it’s a real possibility.

“How many cocks have you sucked before, Steve?” Eddie asks, carding his hand through Steve’s hair once again. He wraps the tendrils around his fingers, tugs Steve forward.

Steve shakes his head in answer, but he doesn’t close his mouth, doesn’t put is tongue back between his lips.

With his left hand, Eddie guides his dick towards Steve’s face. The tip of it grazes Steve’s forehead, then down the bridge of his nose. Across his cheeks. It leaves a little shining trail in its wake.

“That’s okay.” Eddie rubs his cockhead against the expanse of Steve’s tongue. He rings his fingers around himself, pushes forward until he milks a drop of precum from his slit. He wipes it so it mixes with Steve’s saliva in a little pool in his mouth. “I’ll teach you.”

He sinks forward.

The glide of Steve’s tongue is delicious as Eddie moves against it. There’s not a lot of anything, besides the heat and the wetness, but just the visual of it all really gets Eddie going. Steve’s eyes shine up at him, nearly black, never breaking eye contact even as Eddie watches him with unwavering attention.

“Fuck,” he hisses as Steve moves forward on his own. The tip of his cock glides against the roof of his mouth, inches towards the back of his throat.

Eddie pulls back, and rocks forward. Pulls back and rocks forward. Each time he moves deeper into Steve’s mouth he earns a noise from Steve, a hum or a grunt. Spit starts to leak from the side of Steve’s lips; he tries to pull away from Eddie to wipe at it, but Eddie tugs his head further forward and says, “Leave it. I like it messy. Oh my God, this feels good.”

He grips even tighter at Steve’s hair, pulls his head back before shoving him forward again. This time, he feels his cock hit the back of Steve’s throat. It constricts around him as Steve gags. And it feels fucking incredible.

“Shit, Steve.” He rams his hips forward, his cock spearing into Steve with a force that makes him wretch and spasm, makes his mouth go slippery with saliva. Steve’s eyes start watering—he tries to gasp for air when Eddie pulls back, but he fucks back into Steve’s throat before he can manage. “Your mouth…”

He pitches forward again, as deep as he can go. At this point, Steve is struggling against him, desperate for a breath as Eddie’s dick literally chokes him. He’s trying to tear out of Eddie’s grip, his eyes squeezed shut, but still rimmed in red as they stream tears. But Eddie has a vice grip in Steve’s hair, keeping him stilled as his throat pulses around his dick.

And Eddie knows he should back off and let Steve get some air, he knows he should give Steve’s throat a break from the assault of his cock ramming into it. But Steve’s nose is buried in Eddie’s pubes, his balls are pressed against Steve’s chin that’s sopping wet from how much he’s drooling.

And he likes seeing Steve struggle.

He likes that Steve is trying to escape. That the pleasure has probably toppled into a type of pain for him. He likes seeing how small Steve looks on his hands and knees, likes seeing him cry, likes seeing him break under Eddie’s will. He has the power, whether to let Steve breathe. And he doesn’t want him to.

Eddie ruts forward again, even though there’s nowhere for him to go. Steve’s throat tightens around him even more as he gags aggressively around Eddie’s cock, as he shakes his head back and forth, really grapples against Eddie’s hold.

“That’s it,” Eddie growls, the ball of pleasure coiling tight in his lower abdomen. “That’s it—fucking—swallow—"

Steve’s throat tries, but he’s not thinking clearly. His eyes spring open now, in fear. He hasn’t breathed for probably 45 seconds; his jaw is closing reflexively around Eddie’s dick, his teeth scraping sharply against his swollen shaft.

Eddie kind of likes it.

But as much as Eddie wants to push the boundaries, he finally retreats.

Steve starts hacking up a lung as he bows his head, catches himself on the floor with one hand while the other clutches his chest. He gasps. And then gasps, and gasps, and chokes on his own spit that falls out of his mouth in filthy little rivers.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Eddie says, because he literally cannot help himself when Steve is so wrecked in front of him. But to dilute the sentiment a bit he adds, “At least you’re good for something.”

Steve whimpers as he palms at his crotch. Eddie can see a dark blue patch where his cock has wept through the fabric of his shorts.

“Eddie,” he moans, squeezing at his engorged dick over and over again, chasing his own pleasure as if he’s right on the brink. Just like Eddie is.

So he liked getting his throat fucked.

Eddie feels his balls drawing close to his body just thinking about Steve’s desperation. He wants to touch Steve but he also wants to watch Steve suffer after all the shit he put him through.

“Turn over.” Eddie grabs his cock, strokes it as he watches Steve’s eyes go wide once again, face wet from tears and drool, lips swollen, cheeks red.

“What?”

“Turn the fuck over, dude. Now.” He grabs at Steve’s shoulder and digs his fingers into his flesh as he pulls him sideways.

“I—I don’t want you to fuck me,” Steve says, afraid again. But he follows Eddie’s direction, flipping over in the opposite direction. His slutty little Scoops shorts strain tightly over his ass, makes it look round and definitely fuckable.

As much as Eddie knows he’s already been a lot—would like to continue to be a lot, make Steve squirm and cry and fucking scream—he’s really not that much of an asshole to force himself on Steve when he says no.

But Eddie has no issues with making it seem like he is.

“Do you think I give a fuck?”  he says lowly as he bends forward to press his lips into the shell of Steve’s ear. “Arch your back for me.”

He straightens up, smacks his hand on the curve of Steve’s back, and pushes. Eddie pushed until Steve’s spine is bowed in, his cheek plastered against the blanket on the floor, his ass high and his knees spread. His other hand runs against the jut of Steve’s ass, grips into its flesh so hard that he’ll leave a handprint.

Steve moans unabashedly, his mouth hanging open and his eyes squeezing shut. His hands flounder to grab onto something, eventually stretching straight forward to grip at the base of the passenger’s seat. His hips push into Eddie’s hands like he wants more.

Who is Eddie to say no?

He curls his pointer fingers, tucks them under the waistband of Steve’s shorts. He tugs enough to slip them down a couple of inches on Steve’s hips, but not enough to strip him completely.

“This uniform should never have been approved,” Eddie muses, tugging the shorts down even more. Steve’s ass is halfway nude, Eddie ogling at the seam down his body like it leads to a pot of literal gold. “Why did they make these shorts so tight?”

“Just—just take them off, dude,” Steve pants from where he’s basically buried in the blanket by his head.

Eddie pauses, cocks his head sideways to stare down at Steve. “You’re not exactly in a position to make requests, dude. I’ll do what I want to do.”

A sound of indignity escapes Steve. Maybe a scoff, or a moan, or a whimper. Kind of a mix of all three.

“In fact,” Eddie continues, “maybe I’ll stop here. Maybe your shorts will just stay on the whole time.”

“No,” Steve cries in complaint as Eddie pulls his shorts back up onto his hips.

It’s not a real threat. There’s no way in Hell that Eddie would end this thing without getting a good look at Steve’s cock. He’s heard rumours in the halls of Hawkins High, wants to know if any of them ring true. Although, he can already tell by the thick outline between Steve’s legs that the rumour about Harrington having a massive dick is more than true. Overly true.

There’s a part of Eddie that wishes this wouldn’t be a one-time thing, even though every rational part of his brain is telling him it will be. He wants to find out if any of the other rumours are true too—if Steve really is good with his mouth, if he fucks like a god, if he’s able to go more than one round.

Some things, unfortunately, are bound to stay a mystery.

But for now, Eddie has Steve pliant underneath him, moving where he moves, bending where he bends. He’s going to enjoy it.

He grabs at Steve’s hips, brings them towards where his dick is still hard and wet. The tip of his length runs along the fabric, leaves a little wet trail where Eddie guides it over Steve’s clothed asscheeks, and then the seam down the middle of his shorts. He rams his hips forward, so his cock shoves between Steve’s legs from behind.

Eddie knows his cock is dragging where Steve’s balls are more than likely aching underneath his clothes. He knows he feels it too when Steve groans and shoves his ass even harder into Eddie’s hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Steve rocks forward, slams back once more against Eddie where his dick is nestled between Steve’s spread thighs. “Fuck, yeah, keep doing that.”

Eddie guides Steve’s hips roughly, starts fucking against Steve with intention.

The van rocks each time Eddie’s hips slap into Steve’s cheeks, the windows starting to fog up as they both pant into the stale air. It’s humid and muggy, everything feels sticky and damp, and it’s so incredibly hot. Eddie secretly wants to run his tongue over the panes of Steve’s chest, wants to trail it between the defined lines of his muscles like it’s some sort of maze. He wants to bury his face in the patch of chest hair that Steve has between his pecs, trail his mouth over his nipples, catch the beads of sweat that run into it from his neck.

But all of that is too much. He can’t do that with Steve, hasn’t even done that with anyone. Eddie knows he has to keep things impersonal, but that doesn’t stop his desire from rearing its ugly head.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Eddie says, pitching his hips so far forward that he can feel the heat of Steve’s erection on the top of his own. His mouth runs away from his as he repeats, “I want to fuck you. Want to watch you take my cock.”

Steve whines, his knuckles going white from how hard they’re gripping the base of the seat in front of him. “No, I don’t—I don’t want that.”

“Yes, you do. You want cock up your ass—admit it. You want my cock up your ass.”

“No. No.” One of Steve’s hands fly backwards, grabs at Eddie’s hips. It holds him painfully close, enough that Eddie can feel the tremor in Steve’s thighs, the pulse of his cock as it sits untouched in his shorts.

“Think about how good it’ll feel, Steve. I bet you fuck yourself with your fingers all the time. I bet you wish it was me.”

Eddie can feel how close he is to coming. Ten seconds is all he has to decide what he wants to do, if he’ll stain up Steve’s pretty uniform and make it unwearable for tomorrow’s shift. It’s a tempting idea. But Eddie wants to feel Steve’s skin against him before he’s spent.

He pulls away from Steve; his cock bucking wildly against his abdomen from the loss of stimulation. It’s red and raw where he was rubbing against the fabric of Steve’s shorts, and Eddie knows it’ll be uncomfortable tomorrow.

No part of him cares.

“Take these off,” Eddie says, but he’s already pulling Steve’s shorts off before the other man can comprehend his words.

The seams pop as Eddie pulls them down Steve’s thighs, down to his knees where they draw close together from the restriction of the fabric. Which just won’t do, really, so Eddie tears them down further, until they’re pulled past Steve’s knee-high socks.

Those are definitely staying on, Eddie decides as he stares down at a completely naked Steve. It’s like something from a porno mag as Steve resumes his position, spreading his knees and arching his back, the slutty little socks the only piece of clothing left on him.

And from this angle, everything is exposed. Eddie’s eyes glue between Steve’s legs where is ass is spread open, his asshole winking up at him, pink and inviting. Lower, where Steve’s balls hang heavily, perfectly groomed. And past that, his prick, so fucking swollen that Eddie is perplexed how he hasn’t nutted ten times over in his own boxers.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, stroking himself a few times because he physically cannot hold back when Steve is so goddamn pornographic. He takes his hand, drops his cock. Instead reaches forward and runs his fingers from the small of Steve’s back, down the seam of his ass. He stops at his hole, presses his thumb there. Feels Steve flutter against the pad of it. “I bet you’re so tight. Closeted guys usually are. Virgins, you know? At least where it counts.”

“I’m not—” Steve starts, but he cuts himself off when Eddie applies pressure to his asshole. He wants to slip his thumb inside, but he won’t do it unless Steve tells him to. “Fuuuccckk!”

Below their knees, an impressive pearl of precum pushes from the tip of Steve’s dick where it hangs between his legs. It reaches the floor before it disconnects from his body. Eddie wants to lick it up.

In fact, he wants to do everything to Steve—for Steve. He’s always been a giver. Loves the weight of a dick on his tongue, loves making a guy lose control and shout his name, loves the way cum shoots into his throat and coats his tongue in hot pools of white. He wants to fuck Steve and have Steve fuck him. Wants to teach him all the different places he can come from.

It’s not just a want anymore, it’s a need. But he won’t do it. At least not this time.

Eddie leans forward, tangles his hand in Steve’s hair for the second time tonight. Hauls him upright long enough that he can whisper into his ear, “I’m gonna fuck you, Steve Harrington. Mark my words. You’ll think about me every goddamn night until your fantasies just won’t cut it anymore. You’ll come crawling on your hands and knees begging for it. You’re gonna beg for my cock, Steve, and when you do, I’m gonna fuck the part of you that still thinks you’re straight right out of that dumb head of yours.”

Steve’s mouth hangs open and he fucking cries into the air, his eyes squeezing shut and his hand reaching for his own dick as it dribbles into the blankets under his knees.

Eddie doesn’t give him a chance to say anything, just shoves him face first into the ground. He gathers all of the moisture in his mouth and spits with perfect precision straight onto Steve’s asshole. The puddle of saliva gathers on the rim of muscle, until it flexes hard enough to force its path down his crack, over his perinium. It reaches his balls, leaves a little shining trail before it dissipates into his skin.

His hips surge forward, pressing the tip of his dick where his thumb had just been. A promise for a later date. But instead of pushing inside, Eddie ruts against the line of Steve’s ass, watching as the pink tip of his cock gathers the wet and slips above Steve’s tailbone.

“Gonna come,” Eddie pants, grasping at Steve’s asscheeks and forcing them closer together so they better hug around the base of his dick. His abs clench, and suddenly he’s seeing stars as he paints the moles on Steve’s back with his load.

His dick visibly pulses in tandem with his heartbeat, the veins protruding even more than before, the colour of it turning so red it borders on purple.

And he shouts so loud that his voice breaks, because he’s coming harder than he ever has in his life. More than he ever has in his life. The cum on Steve’s back gathers in the valley of his spine, all the way down to where Eddie’s dick is still twitching against the small of his back. Some even reached his hair, and Eddie can’t help but be smug that he ruined something Steve’s prides himself on.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie falls back on his knees, his spent cock starting to soften as it hangs above his jeans. He tries to catch his breath, tries to stop the pounding in his ears that he genuinely thinks could make him pass out.

In front of him, Steve whines where he’s been left stranded.

The part of Eddie that cares wants to reach forward, touch Steve, get him off. He’s never left someone hanging before; it’s just not his style.

But this isn’t someone, this is Steve. The guy that made—makes—his life a living hell whenever he’s at school. Sure, it’s gotten better in recent years, but he’s never apologised for actively bullying him. For spending endless hours calling him a loser, and a dork, and a freak. For helping spread rumours that Eddie is gay.

And Eddie is smart enough to know that Steve is probably projecting his fears, blah blah blah. Eddie doesn’t give a fuck about that. All he gives a fuck about is that he has a chance to make Steve feel as forgotten about as Eddie has since he was in goddamn middle school.

So he takes a step back on his knees, starts tucking himself back away in his boxers as Steve cranes his neck to throw him a pleading look.

“Please touch me,” Steve begs. He rights himself so he’s facing Eddie, no longer on his knees. He spreads his legs, grips his cock so hard by the base that it looks like it’s about to pop. “I want you to suck me.”

The way Steve phrases that literally makes Eddie’s mouth water, almost has him bending to get on his knees and take Steve into his mouth.

He could get hard again just by the thought of it.

But he sticks to his guns, zipping up his jeans, doing up his button, languidly sliding the leather of his belt back through the buckle.

“Nah, I’m not feeling up to it,” Eddie says, which is a bold-faced lie, but Steve doesn’t have to know that. He shrugs his shoulders noncommittally as he fishes his smokes from his pocket, places one between his lips. “But I won’t stop you if you want to get yourself off.”

He hopes Steve takes the bait. He wants to watch Steve come, as much as it would still be satisfying to watch him scurry off with the worst case of blue balls he’ll ever have in his life.

Steve gawks at Eddie, his brows pinching above the bridge of his nose, so he gets that signature little crease when he gets all confused. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” Eddie lights up the cigarette and settles his back against the wall of his van like he doesn’t care whether Steve stays or goes.

But damn, he wants him to stay.

Steve’s (insanely) pink lips part. He looks so shattered that he might actually cry, which has Eddie feeling only slightly bad.

Not enough to change his mind, but enough that he’ll point it out.

“Please?” Steve says, voice desperate. “Is that what you want? For me to—to beg?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He wants to see what Steve does without his instruction. Wants to see him humiliate himself without Eddie even having to ask. So he just takes a drag from his smoke and blows it towards Steve’s face.

“Will you—will you please touch me?” Steve pleads quietly. He strokes his cock lightly, not enough to make himself come because he’s obviously still hoping that Eddie will do it for him. “Please? Please, Eddie?”

What a fucking sight to behold, King Steve begging The Freak for whatever he’ll give to him. It almost makes him bend. Probably one more desperate word from Steve’s pretty mouth would convince him.

He almost hopes he’ll be swayed.

“No, Steve,” Eddie still says, his voice only wavering mildly. He hopes Steve didn’t catch it. “See, I think it would be pretty gay of me to get you off, you know? As one straight guy to another, I know you’ll understand.”

It’s a pretty low blow, but Eddie has never been above pettiness.

The apple in Steve’s throat bobs as he thinks through his options, his hand barely slowing from the miniscule touches he grants himself. He eyes the pile of blue clothing in the corner of the van.

Eddie holds his breath, begging the universe to make Steve stay.

“You’re an asshole,” Steve says. But he leans back against the seat, facing Eddie, and he starts touching himself intentionally.

“I learned from the best.” Eddie locks his eyes on Steve’s hand as he strokes his cock. His foreskin doesn’t stretch quite enough to cover the cherry-red tip each time his fingers ring upwards, but it moves with each pump of his hand, helps it glide over his skin. Eddie can’t help but choke out, “Shit.”

Steve’s feet plant themselves firmly on the floor, his hips tilting towards his fist like he’s chasing his own touch. His fingers loosen, reaching down to squeeze at his balls that look like they’re tight, like he’s already on the brink of coming.

“I wish you’d touch me,” Steve says softly, reverently, and Eddie thinks how unfair it is that Steve seems sweet. Like he could be sweet anyway, if he wasn’t such a cunt.

That being said, it’s the final straw for Eddie’s willpower, he can’t not touch Steve anymore. He’s never been a strong man, and it seems he’s found another weakness.

So Eddie snaps, he’s unable to stop himself from crawling towards Steve, whose eyes go wide with gratification and lust, like all his prayers have been answered.

Without a word, Eddie runs his hands over Steve’s fuzzy thighs gently, revels in how soft his skin feels, how pliant it is under his fingertips. It gets even softer as he slips his palms behinds Steve’s knees. They seem to unfurl, as if Steve is inviting Eddie to hook his arms beneath them.

So that’s exactly what he does.

Eddie hauls Steve up with all his strength. And Steve uses his own muscle as well, his abs going taut as he flings his legs over Eddie’s shoulders.

It might be the hottest thing Eddie has ever seen before—Steve’s stomach creasing as he pushes forwards, forwards, forwards until Steve’s nearly bent in half. And the sounds he’s making—these pathetic little mewls—are nearly fucking unfathomable, his hand slapping wetly against his flesh as he fucks himself raw, fast, hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come—” Steve’s mouth falls opens in a silent scream, his thighs tremoring under Eddie’s grip.

Eddie reaches forward at the very last moment, squeezes his hand around Steve’s cock right as he starts to cry out. It’s hot and thick in his hands. Smooth. Hard as fucking steel, but Eddie still rings his fingers so tight that the red crown squishes slightly under the pressure.

He stores away all of that information for later, knows already that he’ll make himself come to the memory of Steve’s cock in his hand, the face Steve makes when he tumbles over the ledge, the way his cum shoots with each wave of his orgasm.

With Steve’s gaping mouth, and his body bent in on itself, Eddie takes the opportunity to aim Steve’s cock towards his parted lips. They’re really only a few inches apart, considering the compromising position Steve is in. The opportunity presents itself on a silver platter, and it seems rude if Eddie just passes it up.

So Eddie aims it towards Steve’s lips as they fall open in pleasure, and he forces him to come onto his own tongue.

It’s probably the most erotic thing Eddie has ever seen; Steve’s cum paints his lips in white, his lungs heave, his voice escapes in tiny little ah, ah, ah’s each time Eddie’s fist pumps out another rope, and another, and another. Eddie can feel Steve’s dick pulsating as hard as his own did earlier. He can tell that he probably came as hard, too, by the amount of cum that fills his mouth.

Shit, Steve barely seems conscious of that fact. His irises have disappeared into his skull like he needs a goddamn exorcism. But he’s shaking like he’s currently getting one.

Undoubtedly, Eddie is rock solid again in the confines of his jeans, battling more fantasies about sticking his cock inside Steve before he has the chance to come down from his high, making him scream as he pounds his prostate and uses his cum to jerk his overly sensitive dick until it gets hard again.

It’s a very vivid image in Eddie’s mind. So much so that he has to drop Steve’s knees immediately or he’s just gonna… do it.

Steve gasps as his lower body hits the floor, watching confusedly as Eddie scurries back to the farthest corner. The spark of recognition flashes in his eyes, and Eddie can tell that Steve is now gaining some clarity, that he’s realising he, A: let Eddie touch his dick, B: just lost his goddamn composure enough that he was whimpering and shit, and C (Eddie’s favourite): has a mouthful of his own jizz.

It would normally be hilarious when Steve frantically sits up, swallows his cum (much to Eddie’s surprise), and starts grappling to find his discarded uniform that’s strewn in every corner of the van. Only, Eddie is dealing with his own revelations of, well, very similar things. Like… He just touched Steve’s dick. He made Steve whimper and shit. And, yes, he made Steve cum in his own mouth.

Everything is already a fever dream. There is no way. There is just… no way.

Eddie hauls his knees closer to his chest, makes sure Steve can’t see that he’s hard again. Suddenly, it feels pathetic, now that the heat of the moment has simmered back into something… cold. Whatever it was before.

Only now there will be this knowing between them. A shared memory of… of… this. Touching, and begging, and talking. The things Eddie said to Steve like he’s a guy that says stuff like that. It’s mortifying.

Eddie’s hands tremble as he reaches for the cigarette that was dropped on the floor. It burnt a hole in his blanket, but whatever, there’s a million more where that came from. And he lights it back up to hopefully stop the panic that’s starting to settle in.

Steve has already pulled on his boxers and his shorts, that have suspicious little trails of sticky stains. Eddie can’t look, so he focuses on the wall in front of him, and hopes Steve doesn’t notice the tremble in his fingers.

“Can you hurry up, dude?” Eddie says, because he needs to stick his head between his knees before he passes out.

Are things gonna be better at school next year because if this? Or worse? The same?

He can’t imagine that Steve would sick Jason on him now that he’s graduated. But there’s more impossible things that have happened in this world. Like, for instance, what just happened between them.

Steve knows Eddie’s for sure gay. But by basically fucking him, which should be a comfort to Eddie. Still, he’s worried Steve will somehow manipulate it into something bad, like he’s some sort of homo predator. Will he tell his friends, who will tell the whole school? Will Eddie’s life be miserable next year as he repeats his third time being a senior while Steve isn’t around to reap any of the consequences?

Steve pulls his head through his shirt, his hair sticking out in all different directions. Eddie swears there’s still cum on the side of his lips, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

“I’m—I’m going.”

“Go faster.”

Steve tumbles forward, trips over the balled-up blanket as he reaches for the back doors, his top still scrunched to expose a strip of his lower abdomen. But he makes it, flings open the van and flies forward, his face nearly kissing the pavement.

The cool air hits Eddie like a brick wall, but a welcome one. It reminds him that he’s a human and not just some buzzing ball of anxiety. So he leans towards it, takes a deep breath, opens his eyes.

That’s when he notices that Steve has turned around, that he’s stalling. He nervously fidgets with the red tie on his top, stares at Eddie like he wants to say something.

And for a minute, Eddie thinks he will. His lips open, and then close. And then open again. He gets that crease above the bridge of his nose. He cards his hand through the top of his hair that’s sweaty and sticky, and Eddie can tell he realises that as his face scrunches up a bit.

But he doesn’t. At least, not what he was going to say. His jaw just sets in the tense way it had been at the beginning of the night, and he says, “See ya.”

Turns towards his BMW.

Eddie doesn’t stay to gawk. As soon as Steve starts walking away, Eddie slams the back doors and scrambles to the driver’s seat. He doesn’t waist time starting his van, tires squealing as he pushes the clutch to its limit to make it shoot forward.

And once he’s back at the trailer and settled into bed, he pretends he doesn’t come three more times that night to the thought of Steve’s O-face.

***

“Can you please just give it to Steve,” Eddie begs for the hundredth time. Eddie’s throat closes up over Steve’s name, makes it sound thick as he speaks it. But he doesn’t really care. He’s too tired to care, and definitely too tired for this conversation.

Sleep had come so sporadically last night that Eddie almost called off work. But he needs the money, and needs even more to not look like a pussy who’s avoiding Steve after last night.

“I just don’t understand why you have Steve’s Scoops hat.” Robin quirks her brow, stares at where Eddie is extending the piece of Steve’s uniform that had been forgotten in the back of his van last night. It was comforting, in a way, to have physical proof that he hadn’t just completely lost his mind and made the whole thing up.

“I told you, I found it in the parking lot.”

“How do you know it’s Steve’s?” Robin presses.

“Because, it… it was near where he parked his car.”

“How do you know where he parked his car?”

“I saw him drive away last night.”

“But you didn’t see him drop the hat?”

“I wasn’t staring at Steve,” Eddie says with a scoff. Which is absolutely a blatant lie. He had done a lot of staring. “Why would I see him drop the goddamn hat?”

Robin picks at her fries. Eddie had purchased her food on break today, mostly because he didn’t have the energy to argue. And he also thought it might make her behave.

Neither of those things had worked out.

“I just think it’s weird.”

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “What’s weird, Rob?”

“It’s just… Steve has this cut on his lip, and a bruise.”

Eddie’s heart picks up in his chest.

Oh, shit.

“And?” he asks, dropping his eyes to focus on his now fidgeting fingers.

“And he said he got it from Jason last night. That they got into a spat.”

Eddie’s heart slows down the tiniest bit. Okay. That’s… yeah. He can work with that. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“He said that Jason met up with him after work. In the parking lot.” Robin’s eyes narrows and they zero in on Eddie. “After he saw you drive away.”

Eddie’s world stops spinning for a split second, realising he got caught in the lie. Of course Steve would have his own story. Of course it wouldn’t align with his own.

But, he knew even though Robin knew he was lying, she wouldn’t know why he was lying. I fucked Steve Harrington last night, is not something she’d expect. At least there’s that.

“I—I guess Steve didn’t actually drive away last night. I don’t really remember, maybe his car was still there. I just found his hat—”

“But didn’t give it to him? If he was still there?”

“I hate the guy,” Eddie says. It’s not a lie. Not really. “Why would I give it to him?”

Robin shoves a handful of fries into her mouth, chews thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But why would you even care enough to pick up his hat, in that case?”

Eddie can feel his face getting red. Can see that Robin notices it too, as she judges him silently from under her lashes. “Why are you pressing me about this?”

She shrugs, takes a sip of her Coke now. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

The clock strikes five. That’s their cue to pack up and head back to their jobs. The legs of the chairs squeak as they push them back into the table.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Eddie asks, tossing out their trays full of garbage.

They head towards Scoops and Camelot Music. Eddie makes sure to stay far on his side of the hall, so he doesn’t have to face Steve.

“I just want to make sure nothing happened between you and Steve last night that you’re not telling me about.”

Eddie nearly chokes on his soda, can feel it bubbling up his throat and nearly out of his nose. He doesn’t catch his breath until they’re nearly standing in front of Camelot, Robin staring at him with concern, but also with this unsettling sense of knowing.

“What do you think happened?” Eddie’s voice comes out raw after he hacked up a lung. He goes with this question, because he figures it’s better than digging himself into a deeper hole.

“I’m not sure,” Robin says, poking at the hat in Eddie’s pocket. She turns towards Scoops without taking it, leaving Eddie with a literal white flag hanging from the back of his jeans. “But I hope it was nothing bad.”

She glares at Eddie, turns her sights towards Steve instead. He’s standing there in a freshly washed uniform. Hair perfect, because there’s no hat to squash it down. He’s staring at Eddie and Robin, but as soon as Eddie catches him, he straightens up and looks towards the buckets of ice cream instead.

“Why?”

“Because—” Robin places her hat on her head. Hikes up her own socks that slipped down her calves “—he asked if he could take my closing shift again tonight.”

Eddie’s face ignites, his eyes flying towards Steve accusingly. Eddie can tell he’s a few shades redder than normal as he twiddles his thumbs behind the counter, pointedly not looking in Eddie’s direction. Like he knows exactly what beans Robin just spilled.

“Fuck,” Eddie cries quietly to himself. He grabs the hat again, one last attempt to hand it to Rob. “Please—just—give this back to him.”

Robin purses her lips, takes a few steps away. “Give it to him yourself, tonight after work. You guys need to work through whatever hatred you have for each other. I’m not gonna be the middleman anymore.”

Eddie’s hand hangs limp between them as Robin turns away.

But she casts Eddie one more look before joining a blushing Steve behind the counter. “Just don’t leave any more marks on Steve. He’s really not that great of a fighter.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything more. Just watches as Robin walks back to the ice cream stand.

Before he looks away, Steve’s eyes lift from his feet. They meet with Eddie’s, and they’re filled with a certain type on intention.

Eddie knows in that moment that Robin will be disappointed tomorrow, when Steve shows up to his shift covered in bruises.

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[ghostfacesvalentine]

Maneater girlfriend - Multimuse x fem!reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some mentions of mvrder, not much honestly, some jealousy, but I think that’s it?

Type: Blerps

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: The muses get maneater girlfriends, how they’d react/act about it.

Notes: Honestly, I know some of us may not always feel like it, but it’s fun to pretend. Just like miss Maddie Perez and my queen Rihanna said, even if you don’t feel like it just pretend. Love my maneater readers. Ps. this isn’t exclusively for fem readers, it can really be for anyone. kiss kiss.

I don’t really know what I was going for, I’m just trying to get my juices going, pls don’t hate. Will probably delete this one tbh

Jason Voorhees: Gets so starstruck around you. It’s actually super cute, he never fails to boost your confidence. No matter what you choose to wear, Jason will stare at you all the time in awe, which of course makes you feel like the prettiest person he’s ever seen. Especially when you decide to go all out, he just becomes a puddle. Jason would literally worship the ground you walk on, you definitely have him under your spell. If you want a fan for a boyfriend, Jason’s the one. The only con is that he’d probably forget to take pictures of you because he’s just daydreaming about his hot s/o.

Michael Myers: Honestly didn’t expect any less, but he is a tiny itsy bitsy threatened by your confidence. Depending on the status of your relationship, it could go one of two ways: He could be completely confident, obviously mopping the floor with the guts of the people who couldn’t keep their eyeballs to themselves, or he could be somewhat weary of the attention you get, no matter who it is. Michael definitely has one of the most toxic abandonment issues, but it’s not like you’d be able to get rid of him, he’d get rid of everyone around you before you could even think about skipping town. Michael would stare a little longer on the days you wear more revealing clothing, it’s your confidence that sells the whole look, he’s absolutely mesmerized by you.

Tiffany Valentine: All for it. Wouldn’t hesitate for a second to help you get into your outfit or finish up your makeup/hair. You’d catch her staring from time to time, which she’d laugh it off not expecting to be caught. I could see her getting jealous at times if it seems like someone has your attention and if they cross a line, a knife crosses their artery, no hesitation. Tiffany would absolutely take pictures of you and post you all over her social media, she wouldn’t mind the thirst comments you’d get, after all you were hers. Tiffany would definitely boost your confidence and you’d both become the ultimate deadliest hot couple.

Billy Loomis: Ok, controversial opinion, but Billy isn’t really used to having maneater girlies. He’s used to having cute, beautiful women, but no one willing to stare daggers into your eyes from across the room. He’s absolutely mesmerized, without knowing it, he’d do anything for you. Billy cannot keep his hands to himself, no matter what you’re wearing, or what you’re not wearing. He’s not the best at taking pictures of you, but you’re damn right he’d keep every picture of you he can get a hold of. Sure he can get jealous, but he also knows he has you wrapped around his finger and no one else.

Stu Macher: Everyone expects Stu to have the hottest girl in school, this is no exception. The way you don’t look away when you catch him staring at you is enough to make him fall in love. As much as I love Stu, I know he’s superficial, so if your looks caught his eye, he would do his best to make your relationship work. Even if it means he has to get the right angles when taking pictures of you. Stu would absolutely brag about you, first about how you look then about what you do or what your interests are. Just like Jason, unintentionally, Stu would worship the ground you walk on. 

Patrick Bateman: Ok honestly what else did you expect. Just like Stu, Patrick is superficial. He always wants to make sure he has the hottest/most confident person within 1000 miles. He’d never admit how he likes your lack of interest in impressing every person you meet. That’s probably the trick. Patrick will never forget the times you’d be approached by wealthy men, or simply attractive people that you just couldn’t care for. That would be one of Patrick’s biggest flexes. Of course he’d always want you to look your best, so he does his part in boosting your confidence through pictures, outfits and compliments. Patrick isn’t shy about showing you off.

Leatherface: Just like Jason, he’s stuck. He can’t believe someone like you is interested in him. You are the prettiest most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Bubba would absolutely worship the floor you walk on. He’s at your beck and call. He’d do whatever he could to impress you, getting you flowers, learning to make your favorite meals, helping you around the house. He’d do anything to spend time with you and just stare at you. He absolutely loves having printed pictures of you, even if getting him a shirt with your face on it was a joke, he’d absolutely wear it without hesitation. To him, your face is a work of art that should be appreciated.

Billy Hargrove: Honestly, didn’t know what he was getting himself into until he realized how much attention you actually got when you’d clean up. At first he didn’t know how to handle it exactly. Of course, Billy would play it off, knowing if you would wander off, he wouldn’t waste his time. Still, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t completely infatuated with you. Your mannerisms are what kept his attention. He can’t describe it, but it’s definitely your aura that intoxicates him. The fact that others would consider you a “maneater” and that it was Billy Hargrove that pulled you? (I mean of course he did right?) he’d hesitate to admit that it boosted his ego a little bit, but he made sure others kept their hands to themselves. 

Steve Harrington: Steve would be a little more confident than the rest on this list I’d say. He knows you’re hot and he would remind you that all the time. “Well when I first saw you, I’m not gonna lie I thought you’d like, throw a drink at me and tell me to get lost. I don’t know how long I’ve been staring” Of course, being out if it got out of hand with others, Steve wouldn’t hesitate to step in, but otherwise, he’s of course constantly staring at you with a big dorky smile. He’d find any excuse to take pictures of you, even if you’re just relaxing. For sure he’d keep a picture of you in his car.

Bruce Wayne: An awkward little mess. Just the kind to stand there and look at you from afar. During the night, in his double life, he’d keep a tab on you. Of course if you went out frequently, it would only give him more of an excuse to try to bump into you. At first it’d be to just get a glimpse of you, later on to get to know you. Bruce was a billionaire, there must’ve been hundreds of models and wealthy women trying to tie him down and yet there you were not able to get more than a few sentences out of him. Eventually after he powered through to actually ask you out, he would do his best to make sure you were in the finest of clothing and enjoyed all kinds of luxuries. Even from time to time, you’d catch him staring from afar. Other times, you’d find magazines with you and him pictures laying about, but he’d never admit he just loved the way you would photograph.

Steve Rogers: Of course he was used to being among the most desired men to date, but that doesn’t mean at times he still seemed to fail at asking anyone out on a date. Especially you, who would just stare right through the men that would be entitled enough to think you were already interested in them. Eventually though, you managed to cross paths and who could really resist Steve’s charm? Just like the rest on this list, you’d catch him staring, but at times his gaze seems more sinister than the rest. Of course Steve would encourage you to dress whatever way you felt best in, but don’t put it past him to lay a hand over your ass in public when he’d feel the slightest bit of eyes on you.

Loki Laufeyson: His argument would be that he was a prince, of course he would have a maneater s/o, what else did anyone expect. Still, deep down there was a weary feeling of insecurity at times, especially growing under his brothers shadow. That’s when he’d become overly protective around you, when anyone else was present, but even more around his brother. Even if Thor swore to never lay but a finger on you unless you needed saving, Loki would be incredibly possessive. He’d never admit it, but you mesmerized him, he wasn’t shy about admiring you even at times when you’d catch him.

Spencer Reid: Kind of funny that you’d both fit the “nerd x maneater” trope, but I mean, of course you did. Just like Loki, there would be a tiny feeling of insecurity, but Spencer would trust you unless you gave him a reason not to. There would be a little bit more pressure on him to keep alert when you were out in public, even if you knew how to defend yourself. Spencer would love to take pictures of you and use them as bookmarks or keep them framed. He’d need a ton of reassurance and he’d be honest about it. I think he’d be the healthiest on this list about this trope, kinda cute. Would NOT be happy about the team suggesting to use you as bait though.

#Jason Voorhees x reader #Michael Myers x Reader #Tiffany Valentine x Reader #Patrick Bateman x Reader #Leatherface x Reader #Billy Loomis x Reader #Stu Macher x Reader #Steve Rogers x Reader #Billy Hargrove x Reader #Steve Harrington x Reader #Battinson x Reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #Spencer Reid x Reader

[dearhargrove]

Suffocating in your love

summary One of Billy's friends goes too far while drunk and ends up choking you. Close to passing out Billy comes to your rescue.

Billy Hargrove x f!reader

warnings choking, fights, swearing, attempted SA

word count 3,235

a/n ik the title is cheesy as fuck (which is why I chose it 💀) just don't comment on it <3 @yourcatsmilk approved of this so she takes the blame if it's bad :D

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When Tina announced that she was going to throw a party you knew Billy would be going there for sure, after all he attended every party (no matter how shitty it was). You didn't like parties as most of them just consisted of too loud - and bad - music along with cheap booze.

Apart from that you didn't like the popular crowd, all of them were the same and loved to spread rumors (which, most of the time, were totally made up). They didn't necessarily like you either, Tina, Carol and the others preferred girls that would act similarly and didn't do their own thing as you did.

Since you were with Billy, they still pretended to be best friends with you. Billy knew very well how much you disliked them but he found it rather amusing how they invaded your space as soon as you were around. But that was only when he was there, too. When you were alone they either completely ignored you or went as far as teasing you, telling you that you're not worth dating Billy etcetera.

At first it definitely hurt you and made you insecure because Billy was far out of your league. It was a wonder that you managed to be with him and at the beginning you were expecting him to break things off at any given moment.

But so far he's only proven how much he loves and appreciates you. Trusting him was hard at first, he could be really manipulative if he wanted to, and you had some deep-rooted trust issues but step by step he proved himself to you.

It came as a surprise when you found out about how much damage he had taken (and still took) when it came to his home life. It was more than once a week that you patched him up and tried convincing him into just staying with you.

He also cared a lot more about his little sister than he would ever admit, constantly worrying when he left her alone with Neill - his father -.

You had a healthy relationship which you were really happy about, so you couldn't care less what Carol and her friends had to say about it.

Searching for a dress or something else party-fitting was definitely a challenge. You were more of an introvert, preferring to just spend your time inside and by yourself.

Billy had offered for you to stay home but that would just lead to him being too drunk to drive at the end of the night and you weren't in the mood for him to cause a car accident. So, going with him it was.

"You ready?" He asks and comes up behind you, hugging you. You just sigh, "Nope. I really don't have anything to wear." He chuckles and presses a kiss to your neck before letting go of you and rummaging through your clothes.

You watch him with your arms crossed over your chest. After about five minutes he pulls out a white, simple dress. It wasn't tight - instead only cinching around the waist, flowy Material hiding most of your body when worn.

It was your favorite dress from the two or three you owned and so far Billy hadn't seen you wearing it. It wasn't short, and definitely not the kind of dress all the other girls would be wearing, but it was better than nothing and you felt comfortable in it. He passes it to you and examines it for a second, "Haven't seen that one before." He raises one eyebrow and you shrug cheekily before laying it on the bed and dressing out of your current clothes - a t-shirt you'd stolen from him and some loose shorts -.

He whistles with a smirk and you show him the middle finger with a blush on your cheeks because Jesus, this man drove you absolutely crazy. Pulling it over your head you adjust it, fitting it so it is tight around your waist but otherwise sitting loosely.

Lifting your head you see Billy, his eyes fixed on your body as he checked you out. "You're staring." You state and he makes eye contact, a smirk clear on his face. "Well, baby, you're really attractive," he stops and waves you over, arms open. Coming closer you put your arms around his neck and he looks up from where he was sitting, circling his arms around your middle. "And you're mine, sooo~" he drags the 'so' out, making you smile.

"Alright. When do we have to be there?" He looks at his watch, "Uh, ten minutes ago." He chuckles a little at your expression and you just smack his shoulder, "Could've told me to get ready earlier, idiot." He just stares at you lovingly with some amusement on his face. "Let me get my shoes and we can go." He nods and lets you go, keeping an eye on you nevertheless.

The way to Tina's house was filled with his obnoxiously loud music which was already close to giving you a headache. When you arrived some people turned around - the car giving away who you were. In some way you could understand their fascination with him, it's not like you weren't fully smitten with him as well, but it was still weird to be greeted by everyone with fake friendliness.

He keeps an arm around you while weaving through the huge crowd of people. You weren't sure who he was looking for but you just followed along, not having anyone to go to anyway.

At some point you lose sight of him, opting for walking around by yourself. You weren't too keen on drinking the disgusting alcohol they offered but it made all of this more bearable, so you did it anyway. What you didn't expect was seeing Nancy with Steve Harrington.

You knew they were a thing but it was even less likely for her to be at a party than for you. But she was also one of your only friends, so you walked over. "Nance?" She looks up and her eyes are half closed - she'd probably already had some of the red mixture standing on the kitchen counter. "(y/n)?" She asks and stumbles her way to you. "Uh, yeah. What are you doing here?" She goes on to explain why and with who she was there, though most of it was so slurred you barely understood her.

After a few minutes you hear a commotion outside and both you and Nancy turn around, "Your boyfriend." She giggles drunkenly before walking off. You wait to see Steve walk after her, relieved when he does, and decide to check on Billy.

He was surely completely gone by now, although he had a high tolerance he had probably been drinking since you got here. Sighing as you'd have to deal with him afterwards you lean against the brick of the house, watching him on the keg stand.

Everyone was cheering him on and you had to admit you were slightly worried for him, considering the huge amounts of booze he was consuming.

Your attention is completely on him so you don't notice the guy coming your way, only really seeing him when he stops in front of you. "You need something?" He shakes his head, an off-putting smirk on his face when he comes closer. "So you're Hargrove's girl, huh?" He's obviously drunk, his words slurring into one. You just scoff, getting uncomfortable.

He comes closer, raising one hand to touch your cheek. Repulsed, you flinch away, losing sight of Billy with the movement.

"Could you leave me alone?" He ignores your question and moves even closer, one hand now on your hip. You're trapped; the wall behind you and all the people around you made it impossible to escape those weirdos' arms.

By now he's covering you completely, limiting your movements as you struggle against him. "Relax! God, didn't know you were such a prude." He complains and his intentions become clear to you. It makes you panic, where was Billy when you needed him? Trying to look over the guy's shoulders you can only see the top of the heads from the other people surrounding you, but nowhere in sight is the familiar blonde mullet.

"Let me go!" He shakes his head with an amused grin on his face and just watches you struggle. While he's distracted you manage a kick to his middle and he crouches down enough for you to escape. Frantically you make your way to the door leading inside, hoping to find Billy somewhere in the crowds of people.

It's only a good minute when a hand grabs you and pulls you back, your yelling getting muffled by a hand over your mouth. You see Tina as she eyes you, huffing before turning away.

It's hard to breathe, his hand big enough to cover your mouth and nose. He tugs you back outside and your vision quickly starts swimming at the edges.

When he lets you go it's only to press you against a wall of some kind, his hand wrapping around your neck. "Be quiet. You're fucking annoying, you know that?" Tears are running down your cheeks and the air slowly leaves your lungs, his hand squeezing your throat tight enough to take away all possible ways of breathing.

You scratch at his wrist but he just ignores you, starting to search for a zipper on your dress. In the second in which your eyes roll back and you pass out Billy comes around the corner, his eyes finding you with the guy leaning over you. He sobers up nearly immediately when he sees you slumped against the wall while some guy tries undressing you.

He stomps over, ripping him away from you with a fiery look in his eyes. The guy goes to complain but then makes eye contact with Billy. Billy's taller than the guy that had captured you, staring down at him. They make eye contact, tension clear to everyone that'd pass by.

"How dare you touch her like that?" His voice is scarily calm and it's silent for a moment before he lunches forward, hitting the guy right on his nose. Continuously hitting him, Billy gets lost for a second before focusing back on what was really important; you.

So, when he's happy with the result he lets go of the guy, pulling him up by his collar to threaten him, "Come close to her again and I'll kill you, got that?" The dude nods, fear clear on his face. Billy let's go and he falls back to the ground, laying there and clutching his head.

That's when Billy turns to you, horror overcoming him at the fact that you were still unconscious. He kneels down next to you and pulls you on his legs, pulling the zipper back up before draping his jean jacket over your shoulders. To be honest he had no idea what to do. He's been in this situation often enough, being beaten up was nothing new after all, but with you it was different. His thoughts are racing but still slow, considering the huge amount of liquor he had consumed, so it's hard to concentrate.

He brushes your hair out of your face and could beat the guy up all over again when he sees the bruise forming around your neck. It's red and barely visible in the night but it will be an angry purple tomorrow and serve as a reminder that he had failed to protect you.

Seeing that this would be the worst place for you to wake back up he puts an arm under your knees and with the other holds your shoulders, carefully. With you in his arms he stands up, walking the way through the garden where not half the school was standing.

He carefully buckles you in when he arrives at the car and is quick to get in himself, driving off with urgency.

When he's close to your house, you start to wake up, pounding headache making your sight blurry once again this evening.

A cough forces its way out of your throat and it hurts, everything hurts. It all comes back to you and the tears are inevitable.

"Baby, don't cry. I took care of him. He won't bother you again, yeah?" Billy's voice is slightly panicked but mostly regretful, he knew his job was to protect you and exactly that was what he failed to do today.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He whimpers, not being able to stop himself from making his guilt known. You reach out, taking one of his hands that were clutching the steering wheel tightly - knuckles turned white. "It's alright. I was out of your sight." He just shakes his head, trying to protest but you interrupt him, "Billy. I'm serious. None of this is your fault. Don't blame yourself for not being there, this kind of risk is always there at parties. I knew that." Your voice is scratchy, resulting from the pain in your throat.

"No, I should've stayed with you. I should've-" his voice breaks and he pulls up to your house, stopping the car. This gives you the chance to turn to him, hands on his cheeks. "It's okay, baby. I'm here and I'm safe now, because you helped me. You saved me from that asshole before anything worse could've happened."

His eyes are full of tears with which he's fighting and you just wipe your thumb over his cheeks in a soothing manner. This had always been one of his biggest fears, not being there for you when you needed him most because whenever he got beat up by his father he was left alone, no one there to care for him. The least he wanted was for you to feel that, too.

"Let's get in and sleep, I'm tired and I bet you are, too." He always got a little emotional when he was drunk, and he would regret it in the morning. So the best to do was just get him to bed - preferably yours.

He nods after some thinking and you get out, stumbling a little on the first steps. Biting your lip you take his hand and your key, letting you two inside.

When you're in your bedroom he collapses on top of the soft mattress, his hair sprawling around his head in a cute way. His eyes are closed and by now you're not even sure if it was to stop the tears or because he was so tired.

You get out of the dress and shoes, pulling a discarded shirt (which most likely was Billy's) over your head before getting to work on undressing him, his clothes reeking of alcohol and smoke.

He's mostly unresponsive, tiredness catching up to him, and lets you do whatever. When you're done he's left in his underwear and Tank Top - what he usually slept in. With a sigh you fall on top of him, his arms winding around you without hesitation. You know him well enough to see the struggle on his face, probably still blaming himself for what happened.

In no way was it okay as you had told him earlier, you were still uneasy and you don't think you'll be able to go out by yourself later in the day for the next few weeks. Of course you would've wanted him to be there, but he shouldn't have to put his own enjoyment aside to babysit you. He wouldn't believe you no matter how many times you would tell him that it wasn't his fault in the end.

His hands are cramping in your shirt and he was obviously not going to rest soon, thoughts plaguing his mind. You didn't have a situation like this before, only similar ones after he'd had a fight with his father and felt extremely vulnerable, tending to believe whatever bullshit Neill had told him that day.

Laying a hand against his cheek he opens his eyes, looking at you before his gaze slides to the bruise around your throat. "Stop being guilty, there's nothing for you to be guilty for." You know he doesn't believe you when his eyebrows pull together.

"No, I am. I mean- mean I could've helped, could've prevented it. Just- I wasn't there because of some stupid drink game." He's upset, stumbling over his words in a hurry. You just sigh, "Let's talk about this tomorrow, you can't think straight right now." He shakes his head, "No, no. I can, let's talk now." He hated not getting stuff like this done right away, meaning he would probably bother you until you agreed.

"Okay, you're lucky I love you." He grins a little though it's dimmed with sadness. "Still sorry." You keep yourself from rolling your eyes and sit up, seated on his lower stomach. He keeps his hands firmly at your hip bones, eyes trained on yours.

"Billy, stop saying you're sorry! I know you're blaming yourself but that's useless. It's not going to change the situation or what happened. You don't have to keep me in your sight at all times just because of this or whatever. I could've stayed with you instead of walking off by myself and yet I didn't. So stop blaming yourself or I'm going to do the same!" You knew by now he sometimes needed to - gently - be put in his place, otherwise he'd spiral down all his negative thoughts.

His eyes are wide but he seems to start understanding your point of view, "Hm." He grunts and turns his head to the side. "Eyes on me we're still talking, baby." He turns back to you, his cheeks carrying a blush due to the alcohol.

"So, you understand me and you'll stop blaming yourself?" He reluctantly nods and you pat his cheek happily. "Good. Now let's get you into the shower and then to bed." He nods pliantly but keeps you close. "You're coming in, too." He argues while taking off his tank top.

You chuckle at his request and gladly agree, happy to wash his hair and pamper him even more.

Taking care of his hair was relaxing and maddening at the same time, his unruly curls hard to brush through but pleasant to wash.

When you're done with him (and yourself) it's nearly 1 AM, the moon high in the sky. "Did I tell you it's really sexy when you wear my clothes?" He smirks, his arms around your waist and his face in your neck.

Groaning you push him off, deadpanning, "You tell me every single time." He laughs cheekily and falls to the bed, pulling you down with him. "Alright, goodnight now." He nods and waits while you get comfortable against him, his body heat practically burning you (no joke, that boy was constantly burning up).

"Love you." You reciprocate before falling asleep to his hands caressing your hair and back.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #dacre montgomery #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery x reader

[reasonsmandy]

As long as I'm here

Graham Dunne x Fem!Reader x Eddie Roundtree

✧.* requested by anon — hey, i was wondering if you can write one where the reader and graham were best friends growing up, (she in the band) and the reader slowly started to develop feelings for him. but then karen came into the picture and the reader saw them kiss at a party so the reader drank too much but eddie was there to bring her home and comfort her. also love your work!! and so so happy you are active ❤️❤️

✧.* summary — you were in love, but things don't seem to work the way your heart wants

✧.* warnings — full angst!

✧.* word count — 2.1k

✧.* 🪕 — Graham's masterlist

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I'm sorry for all the time it took me to come back, hope you have a great reading! 🫶🏾

“Was that before or after I spent all my money on that van?” Rojas' voice came out in a muffled laugh, with the coexistence you knew how to tell that he was in disbelief.

“Come on Chuck, you can't do that!” You interfere, hoping he understands that you all need him. “We have a big gig tonight.”

Billy turns around irritably, running both hands through his hair, Graham is staring at the ground and the thought of seeing him sad causes a knot in your stomach. You try to hold it together, that's what you used to do since you joined the band.

You had heard the conversation between Graham, Warren, Chuck and Eddie that day when the creation of the band was proposed. They knew you were a good vocalist, they had heard you sing on a few occasions and they knew that losing you as a member would be stupid, even if the band went nowhere.

Even though he thought he was the protagonist, Billy wasn't so reluctant to share his attention with you, seeing you more as an addition to something that would be very good. Everything was on track, you were actually gaining a lot of visibility and opportunities lately and the thought of Chuck giving up was a catastrophe.

You come back from your thought when you hear Chuck's low voice say “You're out of your fucking mind”

“So now what do we do?” Rojas asks, lighting a cigarette.

“Eddie you switch over to bass” Billy orders, you can feel how tense Roundtree turns in a second.

“No.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Please Eddie, just this time.” You ask affectionately, a little desperately.

“Fine.” He throws the unlit cigarette on the ground, heading towards the van that had brought you here.

…

“You ready Y/N?” Eddie asks through your door, you quickly grab your jacket and fix your hair before opening it.

“Let's do this.” You were nervous, it was the first time you had to do a big change for a gig and besides it was a big opportunity. All you wanted was things to go well. “Hey, I know you didn't want this but, thank you for doing it.”

Eddie smiles small, nodding before you are interrupted by some horns outside your house, you hurried towards Rojas' van where you saw him accompanied.

“New girl?” You ask Eddie before you reach the van.

“Yeah, Warren is kinda dating her right now. I guess.” Roundtree offers you a cigarette and you take it in his hand. “Hm, talking about love…”

He looks at you with a smirk, you immediately roll your eyes.

“Don't even start.” You ask, feeling your cheeks hot.

“You should tell him, you know.” As you two sit in the back of the van he “starts” even though you asked him not to. “I think you guys look cute together.”

“Y'all talking about y/n+graham’s?” Warren turns from the driver's seat with a smirk.

“What the fuck is y/n+graham's?” You ask with the cigarette between your lips, confused.

“Your couple name, we talk about you two a lot.” Eddie teases you, as Rojas nods starting the van.

“I don't know where you guys got the idea that we are something.” You lay your head against the window, feeling the breeze as you try not to smile with the thought of Graham and You as something.

The truth is that you were in love with him for years now, since before you guys were a band, you always felt amazed by him and little by little you noticed that it had become a passion. You fell in love with him deeply since you started to hang out more together, you tried to hide it but things got impossible when Eddie found your lyrics to a song that well… was pretty clear about your feelings.

You barely noticed when Warren parked in front of the place where they were going to perform, you could hear ‘The Winters’ checking the sound to make sure everything was okay. By coincidence, you had also arrived with Billy, Camila and Graham, who were getting out of the car with their instruments at the same time as you were doing the same.

You enter the place admiring the environment, happy and shocked by the different size than what you had expected. Camila hugs Eddie and then wraps her arms around Billy, Warren and his girlfriend walk hand in hand with Graham beside them when the younger Dunne stops, his eyes fixed on the stage.

His eyes follow in search of what made him stop, the figure of the blonde keyboardist singing along with the band is what your eyes see, instantly your body withers, feeling vulnerable as your feelings were completely exposed.

“Keep dreaming Peaches.” Warren teases his friend, and then turns around to show the place to his girl.

…

You were trying your best to understand how you got here, standing next to the payphone you were trying to hide how upset you were with all of this. You were silent since everyone had agreed to call Karen into the band, you weren't against her at all, but there was something that made you sad about all of this.

“I'll be right back” You mutter, retreating out of the diner with a cigarette in hand. It selfish to think that you were being replaced, you knew it, but the pain on your chest made you want to scream with this situation.

“Are you okay sweetie?” You jump in fright at Camila's voice behind you, coughing from smoke.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Between coughs you ask, trying to hide your nuisance and overcome the burning sensation in your lungs.

“You just left and please don't get me wrong but you look upset” Out of nowhere Warren's girlfriend joins you, and you get scared once again.

“Could you guys stop scaring me?” You laugh small with your hand on your chest. "I'm fine, let's go back inside.”

And next thing you know, there was a big change for you to handle.

…

Karen wasn't the problem itself, but the way Graham's eyes lighted up everytime she opened her mouth or the way he can't stop the smile on his face when she enters the room. The problem was the ache growing on your chest when you witnessed those moments, the way your brain knew how that would never be you no matter how hard you tried.

Things were going great, you had an amazing hit and gradually you felt the band finally going the way you stopped when Billy left for rehab. But somehow even when you put all your efforts to see things on the bright side the feeling came back, it was eating you alive second by second.

You made your way downstairs to grab something to eat when you see Graham and Karen ready for something, desperately you check the clock thinking you somehow lost track of time.

“I thought Billy's housewarming party was at eight…” Eddie let out the question you were repeating in your mind, you gladly thank him in thought.

“And it is, she just asked us to come early and help them get ready.” Graham explains.

“And also take care of Julia.” Sirko adds, you hold the urge to scream in frustration.

“So I'll see you guys later.” The younger Dunne says goodbye to Roundtree with a handshake and smiles at you before leaving.

You rest your body on the sofa, exhausted, resting your head on the shoulder of the bassist next to you. He doesn't dare move,

Knowing what kind of comfort you would like at the moment, he's content to be by your side.

“Is exhausting, I know…” He says under a breath, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of you.

You don't answer, and he takes that opportunity to go on. “It feels like it won't ever stop hurting but eventually, you get used to it.” He lets out with a chuckle, getting a small smile from you.

“I don't even know if I can handle this party anymore.” You complain, covering your face with both hands.

“Don't worry, Warren and I will have you back.” He nudges you with one of his elbows, and you feel lighter with them.

“Like Warren will give me attention after his girlfriend arrived from that job trip.” Eddie laughs, knowing this is very likely.

“You know I've been in love before, with someone pretty impossible…”

“Camila” I say, he suddenly stops.

“What? No.” His cheeks flush.

“It's Camila!” You say arching your eyebrows

“It doesn't matter, okay?” He rolls his eyes. “The thing is, it passes… you'll be fine.”

This time you stay in silence

…

The party was great, even though you didn't find a specific group to join and spend time with, your company was enough for you. Suddenly you are taken by surprise as the lights go out, every room is filled with small conversations while some look for the root of the problem. You search in the darkness for Camila or anyone else in the band, trying to understand what was happening.

Your eyes see Eddie and Camila lighting some candles, you smile and leave them be. You hear crying coming from the rooms above, and worried you go towards the sound.

You find Julia crying in her crib, you take her with you downstairs trying to find Billy somewhere. Turning down some corridors you come across Graham and Karen kissing, Your body freezes and your eyes widen, you feel your heart break into mine in your chest as if a rope is tying a knot around it.

All you can think about is running away, but the child in your lap is something that holds you there. You take a deep breath, desperately looking for Billy and when you find him it's a matter of time before the tears escape your eyes. The older Dunne doesn't ask, he just picks up his daughter and watches you make your way through the crowd.

You struggle to find a corner quiet and private enough to let it all go, you open the beer you had picked up and drink it all in a few sips, feeling the alcohol rip through your throat as you open another one.There was nothing more frustrating than this feeling of incapacity, vulnerability and, above all, rejection. You feel the air leave your lungs as the crying begins, you try your best to keep your crying down but it becomes more and more difficult.

“Hey, what happened? Are you okay?” Eddie finds you, “I saw you running” He waits for your answer, but you just cry. “Everything will be fine, I'm here with you” He holds you, you let him hold you as you fall apart.

“I can't deal with this.” You bury your face on his chest, upset and feeling ashamed.

“Let me take you home.” He asks, holding your hand as he helps you up. “I'm sure Camila will understand why we're leaving.”

“Don't! Please don't tell her.” The tears fall slowly on your face. “The fact that you see me like this is already too humiliating."

“Humiliating?” He seems confused, a little bit hurt as he guides you to the car. “You don't have to be always strong with me. I'm here for you, you can cry all you want.”

As his car makes its way to your house you watch the street in silence, your eyes filling with tears every time you remembered what you had seen.

“I just.” You begin to say, crying a little. “I can't help but feel this way.”

“I know what it looks like.” He whispers, turning the car to another direction.

“Where are you going?”

“I think you don't want to stay at the house with them, what about we spend the night on the beach?” You look at him, your teary eyes curious.

“What?”

“Just walk around, swim and talk.” He knows you feel pretty comfortable at the beach, so he's looking for something that will make you feel okay.

“That sounds fun, thank you.” You try your best to smile, the car parks at the beach.

Eddie helps you walk up some rocks so you can watch the waves better, you feel the cold breeze against your body and it makes you feel a little more alive, of course, things weren't fine and far from feeling better… but not impossible to go through.

“Thank you for this.” You say in a whisper, closing your eyes as you rest your head on Roundtree's shoulder.

“Just like I always told you, you will never be alone as long as I'm here”

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

Graham's taglist:@lantsovcolors @ariianelle @jaidaschampagneproblems @warrenrojaswife @hopelessromantic727 @eddiesaurora @number1chonie @scenesofobx

Eddie's masterlist: @jaidaschampagneproblems @boredshit-shadow @warrenrojaswife @o1iv3 @hopelessromantic727 @eddiesaurora @scenesofobx @vyctorya

#djats #daisy jones and the six #djats x reader #eddie roundtree fic #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x fem!reader #eddie roundtree x y/n #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree x fem #eddie roundtree x yn #eddie roundtree x you #eddie roundtree fanfiction #eddie roundtree fanfic #djats fic #djats fanfic #djats fanfiction #graham dunne #graham dunne fanfic #graham dunne x fem!reader #graham dunne x y/n #graham dunne x you #graham dunne x reader #graham dunne fic #graham dunne fanfiction #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six fic #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #taylor jenkins reid

[bookshelf-dust]

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 3,705

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of blood/anxious lip picking, anxiety attack, talk of self-harming behaviors, mentions of abuse/toxic relationships/neil, fluff

a/n: wow. hi! i’m sorry it took so long for me to get this out. school has been a lot lately. thank you for all the positive feedback on the previous parts and for sticking around! also this isn’t the last part. i lied. there will be one more. anyhow there’s a lot of heavy stuff in this part, but also a lot of love. i hope you enjoy it and maybe find something in it. love you loads and loads <3333

before you read, listen to: when it’s cold i’d like to die by moby and/or slipping through my fingers by ABBA

————

Billy did not hear from you yesterday, or the day before that. He hasn’t been worried, per say, because it’s not like he’ll die if he can’t speak to you at all times.

But today, on the third day, he starts to be a little upset by the absence of you.

He really doesn’t like it when it’s Nicky that calls him, rather than you.

“Are you busy today, hon’?” Her voice is sweet as always.

“No, I’m not,” Billy tells her. He licks his lips, a little uneasy.

“Do you think you could come over for a while?”She asks. “Y/N just left, which is big, but she’s going out with some old friends, and I’m a little worried. She had a really hard time getting over them, and I’ve got somewhere to be for awhile and I just don’t want her to be alone after all of this.”

Nicky stops, inhaling. She realizes she’s been rambling to her poor boy. She starts to apologize, and Billy stops her, laughing a little.

“I can do that, yeah. Who was she having lunch with? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He can hear Nicky sigh.

“Nancy.”

————

Billy is on your front steps when you pull up. He’s smoking, but he stomps it out when he sees you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he says.

Your hands are shaking so bad that you drop your keys. Billy picks them up for you, and it’s only when he looks you over that he realizes something’s not right.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You’re wringing your hands continuously, as if trying to prevent doing something else. He steps closer to you, because you’re biting his lip, and he goes to pull it free like he always does.

There’s blood on the tip of his thumb when he pulls it away.

“Y/N, you’ve made yourself bleed.”

You lick your lips, tasting metal. You blink at him. Billy looks closer at your mouth, realizing there’s a welt and that it’s swollen on one side.

“Come on and let me clean it up, okay?”

You nod and let the boy lead you inside your home. Billy tries to get you to sit on the counter, but you stop him.

“I just need a second,” you say.

It’s the first thing you’ve said to him thus far, and Billy finds himself relieved to hear your voice, even if the shakiness of it matches that of your hands.

You use your hands to brace yourself against the counter, leaning your head forward to face the floor. You close your eyes and try to breathe.

Billy doesn’t know what to do, so he rubs his hand up and down the curve of your spine. It feels warm against your back.

He kisses the crown of your head and suddenly you straighten, a slightly panicked look in your eye, though Billy can tell you’re trying to repress it.

“I need you to help me,” you tell him, running your hands down your face.

“Anything,” Billy says, worried over your state of being.

“I’m having an anxiety attack and I need you to help calm me down because my heart is beating so fast that I feel like I can’t breathe and everything is shaking and I just—I just, I need you.”

“To talk to me or something. I need you to be here with me for a minute.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t need convincing.

Billy brings his hands to your face, stroking his thumbs over your unusually warm cheeks. His eyes dart all over you.

“Look at me,” he says.

You nod, locking your eyes with his. You study his eyelashes, the way they kiss at the corners and leave shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the light.

“Breathe with me.”

“Okay.”

In and out. In and out. You focus on the way Billy is breathing, and that seems to help. You watch the steady rise and fall of his chest rather than worrying about the feeling in yours.

“How long do they usually last?” Billy inquires. “The heart palpitations.”

“Little while. Half hour, little less, little more. Depends on if I can get myself calmed down.”

Billy presses his lips to your forehead, keeping them there for a moment. They’re chapped, but it’s still chilly outside, so it makes sense. The cold is the same reason for the cracks in the skin on the back of your hands.

“Sit up on the counter for me, baby. I’m gonna get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

You do as he says, balancing yourself on the edge of the bathroom vanity. Your tongue darts out to swipe over your lip, and Billy was right. You can feel the swelling and the welt he mentioned.

You’ve always done it when stressed or uncomfortable. It’s not always this bad though. You just kept going and going after lunch today, even after it had started to bleed.

The boy returns as he’d said he would, a glass of water in hand. He gives it to you and watches to make sure you’re successfully drinking.

“Can I look at it?” Billy gestures vaguely in the direction of your lip.

“Uh huh.” You fight the urge to cover your mouth like you have before, like when your mother has noticed it’s scabbed.

Billy uses his thumb to press on your lip, examining the damage you’ve done to it. He’s chewed his before when anxious, but never like this. But he guesses he’s expressed these feelings you’re having in other ways.

He takes the change to pull at your lip a little too, noticing you’ve torn at the inside just as well as the outside.

“It hurt?”

You snort. “No. Feels great.”

Billy rolls his eyes at you, and then he’s feeling around in his pockets. You take another big sip of water while you’re observing him. It’s almost empty, so you decide to finish it. He waits for you to do so.

When you have, Billy swipes his pinky along the edge of your mouth to catch a drop of water. He presents what he’d been searching for: a little pot of chapstick. He figures if you’ve got something on your lips you can’t fuck them up as easily.

“You gonna let me put this on you?” He asks, features soft.

“Kiss it better first?”

Billy smirks, proud of your ability to flirt with him.

“I shouldn’t. Should leave it alone until it heals some.”

You pout.

He kisses you anyways.

When he pulls away, he unscrews the lid to the balm and you hook your fingers in his belt loops. He dips his index finger in and brings it to your mouth, spreading it over the sore spot and then over the remaining expanse of your lips.

You rub them together after he’s finished.

“Thank you.” Billy nods, returning the container to the depths of his jean pockets.

“Will you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” He helps you off of the counter. You leave the bathroom and head to your bedroom. He follows without a second thought.

You gesture for him to sit down, but you remain standing so that you can pace as you speak.

“I saw Nancy today.”

“Yeah?” Billy knows this, and you know he does, but he wants you to let it all out.

“Yeah,” you start. “She asked me how I was doing. I told her that I was doing okay.”

“And she said ‘You must be doing better if you’re out by yourself, doing big girl stuff.’ What the fuck does that even mean, Billy?” It’s a rhetorical question. One he doesn’t answer.

“She made it sound like I was incapable of being anything but a loner. Like I can’t take care of myself or something? It just got me thinking about how she always thought I was so odd for not being like her.”

Billy wishes you would sit down. Your pacing is stressing him out.

“Then Nancy asked me if I was seeing anyone, and I said you.”

You sit, and Billy’s shoulders relax.

“She acted surprised, Billy.”

“She said, ‘I guess I’m just shocked. I guess I thought he wasn’t someone that really dated.’ And then, ‘You know, I know we aren’t really close anymore, but you could so do better than him.’”

You’re standing again. Billy realizes that you’re pissed off. He’s never seen you this way before. He kind of likes it.

“And she’s basing this off of, what, one interaction she’s had with you? Whatever she hears around school? Shit, she doesn’t even know you. She doesn’t even know me anymore, and the fact that she’s just blatantly giving me relationship advice?”

“Billy, I yelled at her.”

He laughs. Tosses his head back and laughs. He wishes he could’ve seen you rip Nancy Wheeler a new one. In fact, he would’ve paid to do so.

You start grinning at him. He’s so proud of you.

“I just—she made me so mad and I just started shouting at her. It just felt so unfair, the way she was acting. I only agreed to go today because I thought I might get closure after feeling forgotten about for so long. And I told her that.”

“She claimed she didn’t forget about me, but that she just ‘found a different social circle.’ Fuck! So I told her that she had no right telling me what to do with my life when she sure as shit never cared before. And I couldn’t let her talk about you either.”

You finish, setting your hands on your hips. Billy stands and takes your face into his hands again.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. That you went out today and then stood up for yourself. The yelling is pretty badass too. And I appreciate you defending me. It’s nice to know you’d do that even when I’m not there.”

“Of course I would.” You grab his hand and kiss his palm. “Thank you.”

He nods. “So how come you fucked up your lip then?”

“Trying to deal with it, I guess. I felt bad the whole way home. Like maybe I’d been a bitch or something.”

“Hey, no. You aren’t a bitch for wanting better and for saying so.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive.”

The both of you have been so caught up in handling this that you didn’t hear Nicky come home, or wander through the house putting groceries away. You only realize she’s there when her voice comes from across the hall.

“He’s right, honeybee! Not a bitch!” She exclaims, and then she’s shutting the door to her room. She just needed to make sure you heard that. She’s proud of you too.

You bury your face in Billy’s neck and he’s laughing so much that you have to move your head.

“I hate you both.”

“I bet you do. Guess you won’t need any make-it-better kisses then.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah. Nope. No more.”

“Please?” You grab hold of his hips.

Billy stares at you. He’s going to break. You both know it. But he can’t resist the urge to pretend like he won’t, just for a second.

He kisses you, once, twice.

When he pulls away he puts an arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back. His fingertips slip just underneath the waistband of your jeans. Suddenly he looks very serious.

“Have you done that before?” He asks. You know what he means. And you know the answer.

“Yes,” you say. Billy closes his his for just a second. Something about composure.

“Do you—is it to hurt yourself?”

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to articulate a response to this. It’s an anxious habit, sure. Sometimes you’re picking at your lip without even realizing, and you quit when you do.

But other times, maybe that is the case. You pick and bite until your lip is bleeding, until it’s swollen, until it hurts to eat or drink.

“Sometimes.”

Billy inhales and you can see the way his chest shakes.

“Talk to me,” he says. He thinks about chewing on his thumb nail or lighting up. It’s the same thing. A coping mechanism.

“I usually do it if I feel like I need to shut everything out. It’s a distraction from big feelings. Maybe like a punishment if I feel stupid or if I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“You ever told anyone this before?” Billy has pulled you closer than you thought possible, his arm around your back snug like he’s afraid to let you go.

“Just you.”

Billy feels a pang in his chest at that. Just you. Him.

“I don’t want you to shut them out anymore. You feel something big, you talk to me about it, yeah?”

“Okay.” You look so vulnerable. Like he’s looking at a part of yourself you’ve never shown anyone before.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Will you work on this with me?”

“Only if you work on the smoking with me.”

Billy rests his forehead against yours, exhales through his nose.

“Okay.”

————

Billy’s staying the night again. You’re in the shower, so he’s sitting at the counter in your kitchen. He offered to help Nicky fix dinner or wash dishes or do something, but she downright refused.

He’s turned his head to look at a picture of you on the counter. Your senior picture. You look so pretty.

This means that the side of his face is in Nicky’s direct line of sight. The side that Neil hit. He side that’s bruised, despite his hoping it wouldn’t.

Nicky looks up, feeling a jolt in her chest. Something in her just knows. If Billy had been in a fight, you would’ve told her. She knows you would’ve. But if it was a non-school fight, those chances are slim.

She knows. Every cell in her body screams with it.

“Billy, honey? Can I ask you something?”

The boy turns back to face your mother, spinning the ring on his middle finger around and around. “Sure.”

She moves to face the sink so as to not embarrass him.

“How long?”

Billy’s fingers freeze. She knows. Of course she knows. He thinks about pretending he doesn’t have clue what she means. But he knows she’d see right through that.

He buries his face in his hands. “Since I was a kid. Since he couldn’t take it out on my mom anymore.”

Nicky sets the plate she’d been holding down to dry and drains the water from the sink. Dishes can wait.

“Billy, you don’t have to hide from me. You’re safe here. I think we’ve made that pretty clear, sweetheart.”

The boy straightens and sits on his hands.

“I’m assuming Y/N knows? Probably already looked at it?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

Nicky approaches the other side of the counter from where he sits and clasps her hands. “You know that you can come here anytime you need to, right?”

“I know.”

“Y/N said Max is your step-sister. Is your father aggressive towards her or your step-mother?”

Billy hates being asked these questions but for some reason he feels no urge to fight it. He knows Nicky means no harm and only wants the best for him.

“He’s never laid a hand on Max, no. I wouldn’t let that happen. I’m not really around Susan much, though, but I’ve never seen her with anything or heard him do anything. He screams at her sometimes, though. He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t treat her any better than he did my mom. They deserve better. Both of them.”

Nicky quirks a brow. “And you don’t?”

Billy’s breath catches. “I don’t know.”

“You do. You deserve the world, hon’.”

Billy blinks, hard. “Thank you.”

“Just telling you the truth, kiddo.”

Nicky goes quiet for a moment, playing with her own rings. One of them you got for her when you were twelve. It has her birthstone set into it.

“You’re eighteen, Billy. Technically your dad doesn’t have any claims to you anymore.” She’s slowly plotting, a steady stream of thoughts forming in her mind.

“Supposing you want to stay with Max, or even in your own home—because I can’t imagine you’d want to be uprooted again—do you think that Susan is capable of taking care of herself and the both of you? Say if Neil weren’t around?”

Billy contemplates this. He’s trying to get past the knowledge that there’s an adult in his life actively and genuinely trying to help him and make sure he’s safe. No one’s ever had a heart-to-heart with him like this. Frankly, he’s at a loss.

“I suppose so. I mean she took care of Max before. And Max was a pretty happy kid, I think. You know, internally. If you look past the sarcasm.”

Nicky laughs. It’s the kind of sound that you miss when you haven’t heard it in awhile.

“I think Max only got sort of reclusive once Neil came in and sort of pushed her dad out. I don’t think I helped either. But yeah, I-I think she could. Take care of us.”

“And I feel wrong saying this, because she’s not my mother, and it’s her life, but I think she needs better. If she wants Max back then she needs to leave Neil. Because Susan is losing Max. I can see it.”

Billy hears the shower shut off from down the hall, the sound of the curtain being pushed aside.

“What if I talked to Susan? Would that make you uncomfortable? Maybe I can get through to her. About Neil. And I can talk to Max, or I can back off.”

He hears the bathroom door open. Sees a flash of you across the hallway in a towel, then the slam of your own bedroom door. It makes him laugh.

Nicky knows exactly what you’ve done. You’ve done the same thing since you were a kid. It warms her heart to see him laugh at little things like that.

“No. It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable,” Billy says. “I would appreciate that, actually. But maybe let me talk to Max first?”

“Anything you need, honey. And I want you to know that this is a safe space, okay? If you ever need somewhere to stay. And the same goes for Max. If she needs to get away or anything.”

Billy looks up at Nicky and she has the kindest smile he’s ever seen. He knows she means everything she’s saying.

He has the urge to hug her and so he does. He hasn’t had a mom to hug in so long.

————

Billy’s driving again. It seems this is the only time he can get himself to talk about the hard stuff with her.

“Max.”

“Huh?” She’s reading a comic book. He doesn’t know how she does that. He’d probably hurl.

“Nicky wants to help Susan leave Neil.”

Max doesn’t move or close the comic, but she does stare at the page for an awfully long time. “So what does that mean?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But I was wondering…do you want me to leave too? Or can I stay?”

Billy has never sounded this raw and emotional around her before. It’s enough to make her face him.

“You think you have to leave?”

“I don’t know if you or Susan are going to want me to stay.”

Max sighs. “I want you to stay. It’d be weird to not have someone in the next room with horrible music playing. Do you want to go?”

“No,” he says, fingers gripping the steering wheel.

“Then stay.”

Stay.

————

“So you’ve verbally brutalized two of the Wheeler women in the last couple of weeks?”

You’re laying on Max’s bed. You can’t help but notice it’s softer than Billy’s but you try not to ponder that for too long.

Susan and Neil aren’t here.

“I wonder if Mike knows this. That he’s got a predatory mother.”

“I don’t know.” You roll onto your back and stare at the posters on her walls.

“If it helps,” she says, pasting a new sticker on her skateboard, “I never liked Nancy anyways. Kinda bitchy.”

You snort, looking at her sticker as she presents it to you. “Very nice,” you say.

“Lucas got it for me.”

“That was sweet of him.”

This time she snorts.

There’s the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. “Uh oh,” you say. “The beast has awoken.”

Max laughs hard enough that she has to slap a hand over her mouth when he appears in the doorway.

Billy looks at you with a scowl on his face before approaching Max’s bed. He flops down on top of you and buries his face in your neck.

“You left me,” he says.

It’s true. You’d been in his room with him, snuggling, though he refuses to call it that. He’d fallen asleep on you, but you didn’t have a book or anything, so after a while, spine aching, you slipped out and left him to nap.

A glance at Max and she’s making a gagging motion at you. You glare toward the sticker she just put on and she rolls her eyes, cornered.

“You fell asleep. I wanted you to rest. And my back started to hurt.” Billy grunts, and you notice the mess that his hair has become. You point it out to Max. She starts grinning and so do you, and it’s as if he can sense it.

“Stop.”

“Not doing anything.”

Billy lifts his head to look at you, brow furrowed and eyes puffy with sleep. There are even sheet marks on the side of his face.

“You’re conspiring.” He collapses back into your chest. “Little shits, both of you.”

You laugh and he whines again because you’ve jostled him.

You look at Max and she crosses her legs over Billy’s back, using her brother as a foot rest. He’s too sleepy to complain. She puts a pillow under her head and settles in, seemingly ready to take her own nap.

Shit, you think. Might as well. And you close your eyes too, petting Billy’s hair as you do. He smiles into you. You can feel it.

And it’s the best nap you’ve ever had.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy stranger things #billy stranger things fic #stranger things fic #max mayfield #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove series #savannah’s fics

[billys-pretty-babe]

What's It Like?

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Billy is experienced, all of Hawkins knows that. You on the other hand have barely had your first kiss. He comes to your house, complaining about hickies and well, you wanna experience them too.

Warnings : Swearing, implied smut at the end

Word count : 786

He rubbed his chest, the dark bruises mocked you, he had teeth marks on him as well. "She did a number on you." He laughed, "Think so? I think I did a number on her." Your face screwed up and he laughed as he sat on your bed as you saw all of the marks in their glory, scratches on him, bite marks on his shoulder, biceps and pecs.

He watched your eyes dance, connecting the marks in your mind. He kept his comments to himself, you were his best friend, best friends didn't ask if they wanted a turn to see what the girls were all gossiping about, or did they? He laid beside you, hand snaking under your shirt, resting on your back, right above the elastic of the shorts you wore.

"B," you nearly whispered. He hummed, tearing his eyes from the picture of you and some guy, someone he's sure he had shoulder checked in the hallway, some guy that you gushed about, some guy that didn't deserve you, but at the same time, neither did Billy.

"What's it like?" He furrowed his brow. "What's what like?" You put your finger on one of the hickies. He hummed, "Feels good." You hummed and nodded. "You've never had one before?" You shook your head, "No, Billy, I've barely kissed anyone." He didn't laugh, this wasn't a time to laugh, especially not with what he wanted to ask.

"Can I give you one?" You whipped your head to him, nearly giving yourself whiplash. "A hickey?" He laughed and nodded. "Only if you want me to." You nodded, thinking about it for a few seconds. "Okay." He nodded and sat up, so his shoulder was against yours. "Anytime you don't like it, tell me and I'll stop." You nodded.

He held your hips, guiding you into his lap. His blood went hot when you connected with him and he could feel you throb for him, he was sure you could feel how hard he was. "Relax," he whispered into your ear, breath hot and it made bumps arise on your arms and legs. You relaxed in his hold, hands on his hips.

He tilted your neck to the right before his lips made contact under your jaw, pulling a soft hum from your throat. "Feel good?" You nodded. He kissed down your neck, reaching your shoulder, placing a few brief, wet kisses to the hot skin. He noted the places that made your nail dig into his skin.

His lips traveled back up your neck before he heard a soft moan, his lips curling up before he gently bit it, testing the waters. "Still okay," he asked against your skin, readjusting his left hand on you. You nodded, "Yeah, I'm good." He nodded and bit you again, a little harder this time.

His thumb distracted you slightly before you felt his lips create a suction on your skin before you felt the front of his teeth as he began to suck. You bit your lip, trying to keep your moans in. He sucked a little harder in retaliation of you keeping quiet. His fingers trailed up your skin before his heavy index finger landed on your lip. He gently tugged it as your teeth scraped the side of his finger and he shuddered, for the first time since he had started to be sexually active, he felt something.

Your teeth left your lip and your sounds were his reward. His hand went back to your hip as he gently moved you forward, pressing you against his hard-on, hoping you felt it. He released your skin and he wiped his spit off of the dark mark, smirking at it. His eyes flickered to yours, seeing the way your pupils were blown out. He rubbed the mark gently, his brain was screaming at him, he just claimed his best friend, you were his, but at the same time you weren't and he doubt you'd ever be his.

You looked at him, hands moving to his jaw and gently rubbing. "Can I kiss you?" He nodded, words not registering in his brain as he felt your lips on his, he felt the way your hips moved on his, the way your fingers went into his hair, pulling at the root as he held your hips tightly, the two of you falling back, thankfully his head was a few inches away from the headboard.

His hands traveled down to grasp you over your shorts and you softly moaned in his mouth and you knew that this would never leave your mind but for now, you would savor it and hope you'd be the exception to his Heartbreak Prince ways.

#billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things billy #william hargrove #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove

[baby-alien11]

Being an horror icon child with Y/N Ulrich (Dead Meat Podcast Ep. 188)

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @aonungsgirlfriend @ethanlandryluver

A/N: Dead Meat is one of my favorite channels on YouTube, I'm proud of everything that James, Chelsea and their crew has achieved during the last years, they even had a cameo in Scream 2022 and they are friends with Radio Silence (they attended their wedding), so I had to include them in this series, you can check their channel, they have kill counts, podcasts, the horror awards, etc, so go take a look

"Welcome back to another episode of the Dead Meat Podcast", Chelsea greeted in the direction of the camera, "I'm Chelsea Rebeca"

"And I'm James A. Janisse", James continued, "In this episode we have a very special guest, she is the youngest child of Skeet Ulrich, best known as Billy Loomis in the Scream franchise, and in recent years as F.P. Jones in Riverdale, please welcome Y/N Ulrich, also known in the horror community as the 'Ghostface Princess'"

"Hi, guys", you greeted with happines, "I'm so happy to be here, thanks for inviting me"

"Thanks to you for acepting the invitation", Chelsea responded, "How are you?"

"I'm good, very excited to talking to both of you", you answered, "Wait, is that a cat what you have there?"

"It is", James nodded lifting the cat, "This is Lucy"

"She is so cute! I also had animal company", disappearing from a moment of camera, you returned a few seconds later hugging Butters in a way that he was seen, "This is Butters, is actually Jacks cat, but I love him like my own"

"He seems as good as we've seen on the internet", James commented

"Totally", you said pressing a kiss in the cat's head

"So, starting with the interview, what was like growing with Skeet Ulrich as a dad?"

"First of all, he's the best dad I've could ever had, I am the youngest of three siblings, so I was and still am the baby of the family", you laughed along with them, "I was literally a doll to my siblings, they dressed me with every costume they could think"

"Including the ghostface mask", Chelsea joked refering to the photo that Jack posted, "I'm going to say that you looked adorable in the costume"

"Thank you, and yes that was when I was five years old, my siblings were looking for a costume we haven't tried, and then my brother left and came back with the ghostface mask, they put the robe and mask and send me to the living room where my dad was reading a script, he saw me and laughed, that was my first contact with Scream"

"Oh my God, I remember watching the first Scream when I was a child, I was so scared after the opening that I hide during the rest of the movie", James commented with fun, "But that was the movie that made me interest in the horror genre, what old were you when you watch it?"

"It was a year after the fourth was released, I was eight at the time, after finishing the first one my first thought was 'why my dad and uncle Matthew want to kill auntie Neve, auntie Courtney and uncle David?'"

After that sentence, there was laughing between the three of you, enough to Lucy to get down from their owners lap to go to the cat tower of the studio, but Butters kept sleeping in your arms

"Y/N you had more guts at that age than I had", Chelsea joked, "Did you tell him that thought?"

"No, but for the next few days I walked around the house with a helmet and disconnecting all the phones and hiding the cellphones so ghostface didn't threat to kill us", you remembered, "Dad found out after founding the cellphones in my toy box, and asked me what was happening, I told him everything, we had a fun talk about the movies"

"This might be a difficult cuestion, but, who is your favorite ghostface?", James asked surprising you

"You cannot ask me that!", you joked while laughing, "Wait including the sixth movie?"

"Yes", James nodded

"Okay", you sight while thinking, "First, they all are great ghostfaces, with different motives and that, and my dad will probably disinherit me, but Im going to say Roman and Jill, I mean, Roman was the mastermind behind everything, he gave Billy the motivation, and Jill had a perfect plan that almost worked but she kinda messed up"

"They definetely are in every top five of ghostfaces", Chelsea agreed, "Now, talking about more recent years, we've seen that you often spend time in the filming sets of your dad's projects, what was like seeing everything from the other side of the screen?"

"Well, as I already told, I knew dad was an actor since I was young, but the first time that I was in one, was during the first season of Riverdale when I was twelve, I had vacations so I stayed there for three weeks, and it was like that every summer until he left the series", you answered while scraching Butters between the ears, "It felt like a summer camp, like the guys threated me like a little sister and the adult cast were like uncles, they still are; it was very fun because if you look closely, you can see me in the back of some scenes, like in Pops and things like that, and since my birthday was during that dates I celebrated there"

"That sounds like a lot of fun"

"It was", you nodded agreeing with James's comment, "I think that I spend more time in the girls trailers than in my dad's"

"Talking about cameos and visits to sets, how did you ended making a cameo in Scream VI?", Chelsea asked

"It all started when during the pandemic, my siblings and I were having online classes and we were just having our onlinse classes, he got the call from Radio Silence, which he attended on speaker making the three of us listen to everything from our rooms, of course I openned my door, so when I heard the call ending, I practically run to the living room and asked him if I could go with him, he was confused at first but he realised that the call was heard on the entire house, but because of the COVID bursting out, he only was there for a day"

"The shortest time of you in a set", Chelsea joked

"Actually yes", you nodded with a smile, "And due to that small amount of time he had to learn his lines in the hair and make up trailer, so during that little time, I played Sam Carpenter, played by the awesome and magnificent Melissa Barrera"

"How was meeting her knowing that she was playing Billy Loomis's daughter?"

"I love her!", you exclaimed with happines, "When we arrived to the set I inmediatly sat on my father's chair and she aproached to me to say 'hi' and talk like we knew each other from years, she is my half fictional sister"

"She is one of the best additions to the franchise, the way she plays the part, like 'I don't wanna see you but still listen what you have to say because somehow I trust you' is perfect", James agreed making you nod, "Now, we are a year later to film Scream VI, you are more visible in the screen, how was filmimg?"

Noticing a little movement behind you, James and Chelsea didn't say anything about the curly haired boy that was aproaching you

"Well, we were lucky that we had our vaccines and more liberty to film, so after my mum and dad gave their permition to me to be in the movie we flew and have a little reunion with the cast to know each other"

"And then I enter the story", Jack exclaimed from behind scaring you and making Butters jump off your arms, before looking at the camera on your laptop, "Hi guys, nice to meet you"

"Hi Jack", they greeted before James speaked, "Good to see you"

"When did you got here?", you asked turning to look at him while James and Chelsea smiled

"Like five minutes ago", he answered while openning a brown paper bag, "I went to get breakfast for us after the gym, here's your iced caramel latte and a breakfast beagel"

"Thanks babe", you smiled closing your eyes as he left a kiss in your head

"I'm going to be in the kitchen if you need anything", Jack said taking the bag

"Okay", you nodded returning your attention to the screen where James and Chelsea were smiling, "Where were we?"

"How was filming your cameo for Scream VI", Chelsea reminded

"Right, so I didn't know at what moment my cameo will be until two or three days before filming when Matt, Tyler and Guy told me that there was a scene in a Halloween party at the beggining and my cameo will be at that moment, and my costume will be a female version of F.P. Jones, which is one of my dad's recent roles, I thought it was cool, but the problem is that I didn't took my serpents jacket that the Riverdale crew gave me in my sixteen birthday"

"They had to make a new one?", James asked

"No, I don't know how or at what moment, but my dad had it in his luggage, so they made me a mini version of him, I filmed my little part and never stepped on the set again for the rest of the filming"

"Wait what?", Chelsea exclaimed, "Why?"

"Because I'm a fan of the movies and didn't want to get spoiled on anything, so my reactions during the movie were totally real"

"Well, now that you mention the movie we want to play a little game of reactions, the dinamic is that we would say a moment in the new movie and you'll say what was your reaction during that, is that okay?", James said which you nodded, "Okay, first one: the openning kills"

"Crazy, I mean Samara Weaving was wonderful as always and then the reveal after the dead was insane and then the real ghostface kills Jason and Greg was something new"

"The return of Kirby Reed"

"That's final girl material, she made her comeback ready to kick ghostface ass"

"The apartment attack"

"I swear that I was so nervous during that scene that Jack's arm was red the next day of how hard I was holding it, the way it started with Quinn's "body" get thrown at the group, the chase and then the ladder was so hardcore"

"The shrine"

"It was sick and fascinating to see everything from previous movies and from Stab, and then the stage with all the masks and robes, I wish I was there when they filmed in there"

"Gale vs Ghostface"

"I was so emotional during the stabbing scene, that after the movie I hugged aunt Courtney for like ten minutes, but Gale Weathers is a final girl"

"The train scene"

"Again it was so tense, especially because the group was divided in two and all the ghostfaces costumes, I breathe when the first part of the group was safe, and then I stopped when Mindy was attacked"

"The ghostface reveal"

"Don't get my started on that, for the whole movie I was suspicious of everyone and at the same time no because they had good alibis, when Detective Bailey was revealed I was like "what the hell", when Ethan revealed himself I almost fell off my seat, and when Quinn revealed alive and one of them, I almost lost my mind"

"Hi again", Jack intervined apearing beside you, "Sorry for interrupting again, but I had a video of Y/N reacting to the reveals"

"Oh my God", you laughed taking a sip of your coffee

"Can you show the video for us and the audience?", James asked

"Only if Y/N is okay with it", Jack said while looking at you, in what you nodded in response, "Fine, here's the video, it might be a bit dark cause it was film during the movie"

Positioning the phone in a way that was in front of the camera and was seen good, Jack played it showing your exact reaction to that scene, which was how you explained it

"I think you represented the entire audience with your reaction", Chelsea commented after the video ended, "Especially because at first we were like 'why, why them, what's their motive' and then we know that their are Richie's family trying to avenge him, they had a good motive, and if you think about it, it has similarities with the motive of Nancy Loomis"

"Yeah, at the end, the whole franchise is based on family relations, like Roman was the one who started everything because he wanted a bond with Maureen but she didn't, so he gave Billy a motive to start the killings and the events after were like a chain", you said noticing how Jack sit in the chair next to you with Butters in his arms

"We should do a video with the whole franchise in chronological order", James joked, "Now, before we finish the interview, what do you see in your future? Do you see yourself in the industry or not?"

"I really like this question", you answered while thinking, "I definitely want to stay in the industry but not as an actress, I mean, I did theatre when I was in high school and it was awesome, but I would love to focus on be a make up artist of the horror genre, like the ones who focus on prosthetics and that"

"That sounds so interesting, what was the moment that made you realise that?", Chelse asked

"It was during big part of my life watching movies and series, so it was building along the years"

"Well we hope to see your name in credits and featured in our Kill Counts in future years", James said making you smiled, "Same to you Jack"

"Thanks guys", Jack said in response next to you, "You are awesome"

"Well, Y/N, thanks for be this week guest on the podcast, it was great talking to you", Chelsea smiled, "We can't wait to see what you do in the next few years"

"Thanks for inviting me, I'm so happy that you are my first formal interview because I love the entire channel and content", you smiled, "It has been a pleasure to talk to you and I hope we can do it soon"

#jack champion #jack champion imagine #jack champion x you #jack champion scream #jack champion x reader #y/n ulrich universe #scream #ethan landry #dead meat

[ultralightpoe]

Final Girl Part 3 -Eddie Munson

Authors Note: I wrote this awhile back, clearing out my drafts. Hope you enjoy !

Word Count:4822

Warnings: stabbing, hints of smut but not really.

Part One Here...... Part Two Here

(Thank you for the gif @feodor-dostoevsky)

Enjoy!

There was nothing ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’ about the movie Slashed anymore.

In fact as Eddie Munson sat between Dustin and Lucas while the film played on the tv before them he could barely stop the anger that coursed under his veins at every turn. That was you. This entire time his crush on the actress that played k/y/n had been a knockoff version of you.

He watches with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth begin to ache as the main character screams while the masked killer begins fighting to open the car door. The actress crawls along the console to get to the other window, and this part she rolls the window down but only half way so she could climb out. Her panties flash and the killer sinks his knife into the meat of her thighs. 

Eddie’s mind flares, the memory of the scar on your leg the day he brought you dinner, right fucking there. It had looked like a knife had slashed its way down your thigh and the scar itself was still brash against your skin. Bumpy and noticeable. And though he never thought anything bad of it before right now he hated the scar. He hated how you managed to get it and he hated that this movie would make a mockery out of you. Would make a mockery out of his girl. 

“What a bimbo!” Mike laughs out, shaking his head. “Open the door and run. Jesus this girl is stupid.” 

“Do you think the real girl was stupid enough to do-“ Will starts before Eddie snaps out “Shut. Up.” 

Steve, who was normally the first to tell one of them shut up in any given situation, looks over at Eddie with wide eyes and a shocked look. He mouths a “you okay?” and Eddie chooses to act like he hadn’t seen it because the truth was he wasn’t okay and everyone in this room knew something was off.

He had tried calling you numerous times, and had even stopped by your dorm more times than he could count. Desperate to see you, desperate to explain the shirt and explain that he had no idea what was going on. 

It didn’t take much to figure out what you had scrambled together that night. Everyone was talking about you, talking about the final girl on campus and dashing to get a picture and he had shown up wearing a shirt that had that stupid fucking mask on it and- Jesus just thinking about it had his heart lurching through his throat as he rubbed at his face aggressively. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since. 

Your roommate had explained that under the circumstances the school allowed you take finals early and head home for winter break, and Eddie was absolutely disgusted to realize that this was the first time he had ever seen a dash of excitement on your roommates face regarding you. Of course she would be the one to hate you until you because a popular name.  What a bit-

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” The lead actor in the movie wails out in pain, now fully unmasked and holding his side from where the actress had managed to stab him. 

All he could see was you, you covered in blood with tears streaming down your face. You limping from the injury on your leg as you circled around getting ready for the killers next attack. 

All he could see was you. 

He wanted to make it all go away, to be there and protect you from everything. Kiss away all the pain and hold you close enough that your bodies might as well morph together. He wanted you, and after weeks of not being near you he found that he couldn’t breathe or think straight. 

It was like someone had cut off his oxygen the second you dashed away from him. 

The main actor playing Billy begins taunting the actress- you- and laughing. Laughing on her pain and how he has used her just mere hours before and Eddie thinks he’s going to throw up. Heat flashes through him as a tight pain sears through his chest while he fights back the urge to puke, his hands raveling into tight fists. 

He used you. He used his girl. 

He had taken something from you that you would never get back and made it into a weapon. Blind rage fills his body as he gets up, angrily slamming the dial and turning the tv off before moving to the kitchen and beginning to angrily clean up everything they had used tonight. 

His body sings as he slams the pots and pans from dinner into the sink, each bang giving him a little sense of pleasure. The spoons follow next and more and more until he can finally start scrubbing them clean. Scrubbing inch by inch, getting every spec of something off the dishes as someone makes an appearance in the kitchen. 

He expects it to be Steve or Dustin, coming in to make some annoying remark on his attitude, so he chooses to stare at the fake tile the apartment manager had put up for his uncle when he was moved in. He stares and stares and stares, seeing the light from the kitchen flash from it. 

“Munson.” Eddie is shocked to hear a female voice, strong and i breaking rather than the voice of his 2 dumbass friends, whipping around to face none other than Nancy Wheeler. 

Eddie had been a little shocked when he saw her the first time tonight, because Nancy Wheeler looked different. From what Eddie could understand from her letters she had dropped both Steve and Jonathan and chose to move to college and build a better future and it showed. Her hair was perfectly done, she dressed in flattering outfits that fit her well and she stood a little taller. No more will they won’t they bullshit and Nancy was growing into the smartest person Eddie knew. She always had been but he would never admit that to her. 

“Wheeler.” He sighs back, casting his eyes back to the dishes before him. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t even know how he could explain any of it to her. 

“You know I love your letters, I’m glad you still write with me.” She smiles, moving closer. “But something has been off about your past letters.” 

“Oh yeah? You finally realize I’m illiterate?” 

“Close, but I’ve always known that.” She teases which forces a small smile on Eddie’s face as well. “You just seemed…. Happier. I was always worried about you in the beginning because of what you went through and your letters, although you tried to make it sound like you were having fun, you just seemed miserable. But then it changed, and you started writing about the pretty girl from your English class and the next thing I knew it was like your letters lit up.” 

His mouth goes dry, and he can’t pull himself together long enough to look at her. “I didn’t know you could tell.” 

“I knew you didn’t want me to know.” 

“What about it?” He finally asks. 

She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and he finally looks up at her to see that she’s pulling a newspaper from behind her back and setting it on the counter quickly. “I know the editor for your colleges newsletters.” 

There you were. After weeks of not seeing your face he feels the breath of fresh air, his lungs expanding as he snatches the paper to pull the photo of you smiling a little closer to him. Just like that he felt like he was in your dorm again, laying with you while you both laughed at something. Your roommate, or maybe your teachers accent, maybe the jock that works at your shared pizza spot and never seems to know what to say. 

It takes him a moment to drag his eyes away from the photo and read along the lines printed, seeing how they found out made his jaw clench one more time. An “anonymous source” recognized you from the newspaper and had to tell the world. Then the source explains that he also recognized that you were on a date with the ‘Metalhead that can never brush his hair’. Low blow. 

“You recognized me because the metal head comment?” 

“I recognized the girl you described. The metalhead comment just cemented my belief.”

“What about it?”

“Well I’m using my power of deduction to assume that something happened and you’re mad about the movie-“ A deep sigh falls from his lips before he nods and moves to face her fully. 

He explains what happened and Nancy is a great listener, and once he is done she merely nods before a smile breaks out across her face. “This is so perfect for you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean with everything that we went through and everything that you specifically went through we never find people that can handle our trauma-“

“Therapist Nancy is in the building.” 

“And this is a beautiful person that, although she doesn’t understand our trauma, understands trauma on her own and-“ She takes a deep breath in before looking at him with such excitement it made his stomach ache. “You just seem so much better, you seem happier. I haven’t seen you rub your side once.” 

His heart stops, ringed hand rushing up to rub his side, rubbing slow soft circles as he did so. She was right, since Eddie had been thinking about you so much he hadn’t had time to think about his side. Now that she’s mentioned it he can feel the full ache there, pulsing under his skin like another heartbeat.

“I just don’t know how to explain it. You know? To make her believe me.” 

“You’ve been collecting outcasts and misfits for as long as I can remember. You have the weirdest way of making the most shut down people I know break out of their shell. You will be just fine.” She smiles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before heading back out to where the rest of the group had chosen to hide out and let him finish the dishes in silence. 

By the time he makes it back out to sit with them they are watching a comedy movie Steve had chosen, and Dustin is staring at Eddie with a highly confused look. But Eddie just attempts a smile at him, staring at the screen to ignore the rest of the world. 

- 

The rest of the break was spent catching up with Wayne and helping his uncle out with anything he needed, and when Eddie told him he would be going back a week early Wayne made sure he had everything he needed and the two parted ways with a tight hug before Eddie began his trip back. 

But there was one stop he had to make first, and his chest was tight just at the thought of it. 

He had one newspaper clipping, back from when he himself had been in the hospital, he had found it in a book Wayne had been reading then. It was folded up and used as a bookmark, half the words ineligible from the time used but he could still make out the town he needed from it. 

So he packed it all up, got directions and drove to find you. 

You had always told him stories about the town you grew up in, but he had never connected the dots, now as he drove past the welcoming signs it finally settled in. The diner your parents always took you to was right there. The school you went to was 3 blocks away. The cabin that changed your life, as he understood it, was an hour just into the woods. 

This was your town. 

His chest ached for Hawkins, a town he hadn’t seen in years since they moved him and his uncle away. Even spending winter break with his friends meant they had to go to a new town so no one would spot him. 

He had hated Hawkins, but that was his home. 

He stops at a red light, skin itching with excitement at the possibility of seeing you.  Even if you turned him away he would be able to spot you for just a second. That would make him feel better. 

A honk pulls his attention, making him defensive as he sits up, looking to see where it came from and finding quite the angry scene unfolding before him. A pedestrian had been walking and a car had honked, the two now sat cursing eachother out. Eddie watched, stuck due to the light, and turned his music down to concentrate more as he watched one of them slam his hand on the hood of the car in anger. There was something utterly familiar about him, one that he just couldn’t put his finger on. 

Before he think about it too much the light turned green and he drove off, casting one last look on their direction before he pulled over and asked for directions to your place. 

For a town known for a murder spree peopke seemed just fine handing out personal information and Eddie tried not to get too irritated or protective at that fact. Instead he drove slowly, trying to remember if the older gentleman had said red brick or 2 houses down from the red brick. 

He got his answer when he made it to the street, seeing a news van outside the red brick house as someone filmed in front of it. He parked, hopping out of his car and heading up, keeping his face turned away from the news caster as he knocked on the door softly. 

There was no answer and Eddie was beginning to believe his plan was useless and stupid. What are the chances that you are home right now? And what are the chances you would answer the door to him?

He knocks a second time anyways, heat traveling his skin in embarrassment at this whole idea when suddenly the door opens. It’s the smallest amount, but he recognizes your eyes immediately. They seem to narrow in on him and he finds himself holding his hands out in a surrender motion with a small smile. “I was hoping to explain myself.” 

“I don’t want to deal with some crazy stalker-“ you snap out, moving to close the door quickly before his hand is being shoved between so you can’t. It hits him and he gasps out in pain which makes you remove the pressure with a gasp of your own. “Are you crazy?! I could have broken your hand!” 

“I’m not a crazy stalker, I had no clue. Please just give me a moment to explain.” He sighs, “it’s not what it seems.” 

You both seem to have caught the news anchors attention, risking a side glance to where she is now standing and blinking slowly at you both. He stares back, giving her his best mean mug before he feels your hand snatch the front of his leather jacket and drag him in quickly. 

He trips over his own feet, reaching a hand up to grab your arm to stablize himself as you glare and shut the door. 

“I don’t recommend getting into with her, she will blast your ass across the news networks.” 

“The government would make her take it all down. I’m not really worried.” It’s meant to be a joke, something to ease the tension as you rubs soft circles on your arm, but you merely glare at him and he knows you didn’t get it. But his main concern is the bags under your tear stained eyes. “Have you been crying? When’s the last time you slept?” 

His hands fly to cradle your chin, rubbing soft circles on the skin, his rings glinting in the light of your living room. You seem to melt into his touch and he finds himself truly happy at the thought, moving closer to you. 

“I should be the one asking you that.” You snap, staring at his own bags. “You look like hell.” 

“I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve been caught up thinking about you and-“ 

“I know you didn’t know.” You blurt , cutting him off. “I know it, and part of me knew it then but I was panicked and embarrassed and I can’t believe I hit you. I….. oh my god I hit you in front of everyone and you-“

“I’m not mad. It’s not the first time I’ve been hit and I enjoyed the sting. Warmed my cheek up a little.” He teases and you shake your head. 

“Eddie. No. That wasn’t okay and I can’t believe I did that. You gotta know that I’m bad news, okay? You’re better off without me.” You rush out, head snapping a bit when you hear the news reporter speaking closer than she was before. He watches as you rush to lock the door before coming back to him and holding out a hand for him to grab, he takes it quickly and lets you lead him up the stairs. He can’t decide between staring at you and your beauty or admiring the house you grew up in. You decide for him when you lead him into a room and shut the door. 

“Sorry. They have the habit to peer through windows.” You explain, blushing bad as he scoffs. 

“They really do that? Fucking lunatics.” 

“Everyone wants to know the girl that-“ you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “You probably have questions. Ask away, ask anything. I owe you that.” 

His chest tightens painfully and his jaw clenches at your words, choosing to look around your room because he was too afraid to look you in the eyes. This entire room felt wrong, it didn’t feel like you….. well maybe a past version of yourself. One he hadn’t met, still happy and innocent in the world. Like your past had been frozen in place. 

He had his own version of this, his own room would have been stuck in the past if the police hadn’t snatched everything of his since it was a crime scene. 

“You don’t owe me anything.” He bites out. “Ever. I want you to open up to me when you’re ready, not because you feel guilty for something. If you’re in danger, on the other hand, then yes you need to tell me.” 

Still refusing to look at you as he runs his fingers over all your garments in the closet before walking by your desk and doing the same there. Humming a little when he sees a picture of you cheek to cheek with a cheerleader, both of you smiling ear to ear. 

“Mila.”

“Maya, actually.” You sigh. “Her name was Maya.” 

Nodding slowly, his stomach clenching in pain at your time as he turns to sit on your bed, finally facing you. 

“I have many many questions. But you do not owe me answers.”

“I want to answer them.” You smile slightly, walking forward ever so slowly. “Not because I owe you, I want a clean slate with you. You know all my secrets and I get to be myself.”

His hands reach out to grab your hips, pulling you softly into his hold as he peers up at you with his heart hammering through his chest. You peer down at him, obviously a little worried and he wants nothing more than to wipe that look off your face. 

“How about I go first?” He whispers, relieved when he sees the worry replace itself with confusion. Smiling from ear to ear as he slowly slides the leather jacket off before reaching down to pull his hellfire shirt over his head. His scars pull a bit as he reaches to do so, and the second the fabric is off him he watches your face intently, looking for any shred of disgust. 

He finds none, only a look of devastation as you reach slowly to rub your thumb along one. “Fire?” 

“No. Bats.” He smiles. 

“Bats?!”

“Bats.” 

“Bats?” 

“Yup..” 

“Like the Halloween version of birds?” 

“Weird way to describe them but I’ll allow it.” He scoffs, watching as you let your thumb follow the ridge of it. He doesn’t want to think about how soft your skin feels, or how gentle your being. 

“How do you get attacked by bats, plural and not just one?” You whisper, allowing him to reach up and pull you in by your hips until both your thighs were on either side of his, allowing you to straddle him. 

“It’s a long story. One that I really don’t think you’ll believe but I brought proof.” He mumbles, nose nudging your jaw. “And I’m hoping you’ll believe me.” 

-

The proof, which had been the tooth of a demobat, you had gotten freaked out and demanded he put it away which had made him laugh and shove it back in the pocket of his jeans. You spent the next hour asking him question after question, taking 5 minute breaks to kiss along his face whenever you thought his answer was painful. 

Finally it went back to you, and as much as he loved sharing the secret with you, Eddie found himself grateful that the pressure was off of him. He hated talking about it all. 

But now you were explaining your side of things, and he found that he truly didn’t feel much better as you went through the events of the night. 

You explained that you hadn’t slept with him that night but you had in the past, explaining how you had separated from Maya and the rest of the party because Billy had pulled you away to argue about your relationship. 

While you had been arguing with Billy his friend Stu had been killing people downstairs, your friends Maya and Paul included. 

He listened closely as you described seeing the mask for the first time and the terrifying dash for your life you had made, jumping off the roof to avoid him. How you tried the van to see if you could drive away, but another figure had found you and you were doing your best to escape over the console when he slashed your thigh but you still managed to get out of the car through the door. The final fight with them where you received the scar along your arm and your abdomen. You described finding Randy in the bushes as you waited outside man’s held onto his stab wound until the police arrived. At that point in the night you had been fully covered in blood, yours and your friends and the killers. The police had mistaken you and put you in handcuffs first while the paramedics were trying to rush you to the hospital. They only released you once they got Kelvins and Randy’s story. 

“I thought there had been four survivors?” 

“There was five of you include Gale and Dewey. She was a news anchor and he was the deputy of the time.” 

“And Kelvin was the one that sold the story? Wasn’t he dating Maya?” 

“Yes to both.” 

“Does that make you mad?” He whispers, tensing a bit when you begin caressing his side once more, letting your finger feel his scar like you were amazed by it. He fights the urge to bring a hand up and cover it, embarrassment clinging to him like dust to wet paint. 

“I try to think about it from his point of view…..” you start, your voice nothing but a whisper as your nose nearly touches his. From right here he can smell the your perfume perfectly, his thighs tensing as he feels his jeans tighten. “And then I always relent to anger, because he’s never tried to see it from my point of view and I’m the one that saved him.” 

Your finger slides from his scar up to his chest, rubbing at the collarbone there. “Do you ever get mad about it all?” 

“All the time. I think anger is the only thing that keeps me going sometimes” he admits, loving the way excitement sparks in your eyes. 

“You don’t think I’m a bad person for wanting to crack Kelvins nose in?” 

“Baby, I want to and I’m not even involved,” he laughs and before he knows it you are dragging him in for a heavy kiss, your hands woven in his hair as he moans a little into your mouth. 

“I want you.” You breathe out when you break from the kiss, moving off him a little to give him room to crawl back as you push him back slightly. 

He does what you want, smiling up at you as you tear off your shirt. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure about anything.” 

-

“This is so stupid.” Savannah Stevens snaps, slamming her car door and moving to the trunk to snatch the overpacked suitcase she took home for winter break. 

Arriving back to school a week early was absolutely dreadful, and not something she ever planned on doing. None of the other girls would be coming back until Friday which meant it would just be her and the freaky girl Lindsay who barely ever spoke. To nervous to make eye contact but her mom was a pledge so she got an easy way in. 

Savannah would be enjoying a nice hot dinner with her family right about now if her teacher hadn’t emailed her about a missing project that was worth 70 percent of her grade that semester. So she was forced to drive back to school and get it in before the new semester started. How lame. 

There was a million other things she’d rather be doing right now, and as she struggled to find the key to the sorority house she chose to try and forget about them. 

Frustration knaws at her as she cannot find the key, twisting the handle in a lame attempt to open it but shocked to find that it slides open easily. “Wow Lindsay.”

Nevermind people breaking in, Lindsay would just let them walk in, but the anger disappears when the warmth of the building engulfs her and she sighs in relief, stripping the jacket off and throwing it on the chair beside the door telling herself she would pick it up soon. 

“LINDSAY?!” She calls, looking around at all the lights that had been turned on in the home. Brittany was going to lose her shit at the electric bill. “LINDSAY!”

When she gets no answer she rolls her eyes, turning to lock the door before walking through and turning the lights off as she made her way to the room. 

Just as her hand hits the handle there is a shrill ring that breaks through the house, making her jump and turn to where one of the many landlines sat. “Swear to god if that’s Amy’s weird boyfriend….”

She picks it up anyways, sighing out as she answers “Hello?” 

“Hello….”

“Yes. Hello. How can I help you?”

“I was looking for someone.” The voice drawls out, slow and saccharine. “Think you might be able to help me?” 

“Who are you looking for?”

“Well that depends… do you think-“ 

“If you’re calling for your girlfriend she’s not here.” Savannah snaps, shaking her head. “Leave a name and I’ll write your message down.” 

“It’s Paul….” 

“Okay Paul,” she sighs. “Wait…. Like? Paul from English class? This is Savannah!” 

“You mean the cheerleader that sits in the front row?” 

“Yes, oh my god hi. I was actually scared for a second?” she laughs, hand falling on her chest as she breathed out. “Who are you calling for?” 

“You,” 

“Oh haha.” She giggles. “You calling for Lindsay?” 

“I’m calling for you.” The voice says, more serious. “Think you have a moment to talk? Or should you go and close the front door?” 

“What do you me-“ she begins to ask, walking to the staircase and stopping short when she sees the door that she locked wide open.

“What the fuck- how did- where the fuck are you Paul?” She snaps, instantly on edge as she whirls around to check around her. “This isn’t fucking funny.”

“What’s not funny about it?” 

“You think this is a fucking joke?! Huh?! I’ll tell Munson, and L/N. Yeah I’m their friend so why don’t you back the fuck off you freak!” 

“Munson huh? And just who is this Munson?”

“You need to BACK OFF!” She screams, dashing back down the hallway and looking for a spot to hide. “I’ll call the police and-“ 

Then he was there, in front of her, peering down at her through the mask. A loud scream tears it’s way out of her mouth as the assailant grabs her, plunging his knife deep into her abdomen. 

“I asked what was so funny?”

(Yeahhhhhh. Who do you think is the new ghostface? Scream 2 babiessssss. Once again I wrote this series awhile ago and just never published it.)

(Scream will not be the same without Melissa and Jenna, I will no longer be watching and as much as I love the series I urge anyone to stop streaming it for the time being.)

TAGLIST:: (Tell me if you want removed <3)

@cryingglightningg @maxstecc @hookergutss @sunshinepeachx @random000000sblog @fried-peaches00

#eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fan #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanart #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader