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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 2 years ago

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COSMIC - S2:E6; Chapter Six, The Spy - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

will's connection to a shadowy evil grows stronger, but no one's quite sure how to stop it. elsewhere, steve and dustin forge an unlikely bond.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Will stares ahead at the map of pictures sprawled across the table before him. Per his instruction, the medical team had gathered and allowed his mother, Bob, Mike and more importantly, himself to see their record of the maps he had created. The other doctor stands with the others impatiently, finally, he breaks the silence.

"Sam, this is ludicrous."

Dr. Owens is quick to silence him.

"Just give him a moment, okay?"

"We don't have time--"

"--Hey, jackass," Hopper calls, cutting the man off. "why don't you do us all a favor and shut up, okay?"

Will rises from his seat, and Owens begins to herd the doctors away, making room for him to circle the table. His eyes studiously scan the paper trails, and it brings him to the end of the conference table. With a steady hand, he points to the pooled photographs that form the hub.

"That's it."

Owens steps forward, leaning down ever slightly and speaks gently.

"That's what? What- What's there, Will?"

A frown flickers across his face.

"I don't know." He mumbles. "I just know he doesn't want me to see there. I think it's important."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Under Owens's word, a team of the lab's soldiers and scientists gear up for their journey into the tunnels.

Elsewhere, Steve and the kids prepare for Dart's arrival. Max, Dustin, and Lucas finishing the necessary details on the bus-turned-fortress while Steve secures the surrounding area.

The quarantine doors of the lab's entrance to the tunnels open with a hiss. The team of soldiers step forward and into the affected area and prepare the elevator. Hopper and Owens watch anxiously from the other side of the glass as the team lowers themselves into the network of underground tunnels.

Steve begins the trail of gasoline, starting at the pile of bait that had been left for Dart and towards the entrance of the bus. Max finds a rusted latter in a pile of clutter, the perfect size for the bus's roof entrance.

The elevator reaches the pit of the tunnels, the grated metal floor touches the molded ground and the team disperses. One of many soldiers steadily adjusts the attached camera on their suit. Above ground and back inside the lab, one scientist adjusts the screen and assures everything is in place. He unfolds the rough sketch of the tunneled system taken from the conference room map.

"Let's see if this kid's a wizard or schizo, Doc."

Owens and Hopper shift uneasily, and Hopper runs a coarse and calloused hand across his face in his nerves. The scientist at the control panel switches on the coms, the action creates a harsh ring as the sounds adjust and he leans forward into the mic.

"First door on your right, gentlemen."

The team in the tunnels steadily gather information, their flashlights raised and weapons poised as they begin their trek.

One by one, the kids file into the bus. Steve is the last to enter, assuring everyone makes it onto the bus. He takes one last lingering look around at their work and notes their timing. The sun had just begun to set and the golden rays of sunlight had just begun to kiss the horizon, they had finished just in time.

He steps inside and the bus door slams shut, closing them all inside as they begin their long wait.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Night has fallen and with it a soft sheet of fog blankets the junkyard. Far enough from city lights, the stars are visible, hanging brightly in the night sky. His binoculars around his neck, Lucas ascends the creaky latter to the top of the bus. He positions himself on his stomach, where he can safely hide behind the barricade of tires they had procured.

Ignoring the knots that coil in his stomach from the frightful thought, he begins his shift of lookout, eyes peeled for any sign of Dart.

Inside, the others rest wait restlessly for any signs of activity. Max has occupied one of the vacant bus seats, and she sits slouched, arms folded less than impressed with the outcome of the night. Bored, she watches Steve across the bus as he routinely flips and closes his lighter, his eyes trained on it in a weak attempt to combat boredom.

Anxious to pass the time-and her curiosity peaked as to why her high senior step-brothers rival was in on the charade-she attempts to make conversation.

"So you really fought one of these things before?"

He tears his eyes away from the small flame in his hands to meet her eye. He gives her a flat smile and nods silently before returning his attention to the lighter. With one swift hand movement, it clicks shut and he returns to his physical mantra of opening and closing the small device.

"And you're, like, totally, one hundred percent sure it wasn't a bear?"

Steve is surprised to find a weak and breathless chuckle escape him. Dustin-who had been nervously pacing the bus-stopped suddenly, turning to her with his voice raised.

"Shit. Don't be an idiot. Okay? It wasn't a bear."

Max does a double-take, surprised at the kid's actions and it was enough to capture Steve's attention.

"Why are you even here if you don't believe us?" Dustin asks shortly. "Just go home."

Her eyebrows twitch up in surprise as she rises from her seat and heads for the latter.

"Geesh. Somebody's cranky. Past your bedtime?" She quips, before disappearing up the latter.

Steve watches in bemused shock, fighting the grin that twitches at his lips as his eyes fall to Dustin. The boy is still pacing, now stewing in anger that elicits several huffs from him.

"That's good." Steve praised. "Just show her you don't care."

Dustin stops suddenly, his voice flat but upset.

"I don't."

A sly grin forms on Steve's face, and he gives the boy a wink.

"Why are you winking?" Dustin asks, annoyed. "Steve? Stop."

With effort, Steve managed to put away the smirk and the two are soon cloaked in silence once more.

Up on the bus' roof, Max has joined Lucas's company and together, the two look out on the surrounding fog.

"It's kind of awesome." She says.

Lucas looks at her in surprise, his brows furrowing into a curious frown.

"Huh?"

"The fog, I mean." She says. "It looks like the ocean."

Lucas lowers the binoculars, his gaze turning to her.

"You miss it?"

"What?"

Lucas hoists himself up, bringing himself to a more comfortable sitting position. When he looks at her, it is not hard for him to notice the change in her. She gazes out at the landscape, her eyes occasionally flickering to his but most importantly he sees the forlorn look in them.

"The ocean," he says. "The waves? California?"

Max shrugs, her face melting into a weak frown and her attention shifts somewhere else.

He smiles weakly.

"Hawkins seems pretty lame, I bet." He offered.

"No, no, no, it's not that." She says. "It's just..."

The words die on her tongue when she realizes who she is talking to-opening up to. What she is talking about. And yet, she doesn't let it stop her and she doesn't know why. Taking a deep breath, she lets the words spill out, somehow knowing this kind-hearted boy is someone she can trust completely.

"My dad's still there. So..."

"Why?" Lucas asks sadly.

Her regular composure comes back in a fleeting moment, and she chuckles dryly.

"It's this legal term called 'divorce'. She quips. "See, when two married people don't love each other anymore..."

"Yeah." Lucas mumbles.

They share a weak smile, and reluctantly Max continues.

"My mom and my step-dad, they wanted a fresh start away from him. As if... As if he was the problem, which is total bull. And things... are just worse now."

Her saddened gaze hardens on the land below them, and Lucas can tell, in this moment, she is not all there.

"My step brother's always been a dick, but now he's just angry... all the time..." She sniffles, breaking her eyes away for a brief moment. "Well, he can't take it out on my mom, so..."

"So he takes it out on you?" Lucas asks, his heart aching.

She looks at him through the tears pooling in her eyes, and she looks just as surprised that she is sharing this. Max shakes her head in hopes it will magically make everything better.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this," Max says, the lump in her throat hardening as she struggles at what to say next. "It's just... I know that I can be a jerk like him sometimes, and I do not want to be like him. Ever. I guess I'm angry, too, and... I'm sorry."

Lucas says nothing, only staring at her in astonishment that she was opening up. The embarrassment grows in her and she angrily wipes away her tears once more.

She's embarrassed by the pitiful look in his eye, and her cheeks darken, already pink from crying. Angrily, she swipes at her cheek, catching her tears and laughs dryly at herself.

"Jesus! What is wrong with me?"

Lucas is snapped out of his daze and he sits up fully, leaning forward. When he speaks, his tone is soft and urgent. Reassuring.

"Hey, you're nothing like your brother, okay?"

Max listens, taken aback as he continues.

"You're cool and different. And you're super smart. And you're, like," he throws his hands up with a gesture, smirking. "totally tubular."

His antics crack a smile on her face, and much to her surprise she feels a warmth spread in her chest. A warmth she hasn't felt in a long, long time.

"Nobody actually says that, you know."

"Well, I do now."

She nods, a sarcastic gleam in her eye.

"And it makes you seem really cool."

A thoughtful look crosses Lucas's face, and he tilts his head.

"I like talking with you, Mad Max."

"And I like talking with you, stalker." She smiles.

A wild growl echoes from the distance capturing everyone's attention. Down below, Steve and Dustin scurry to the nearest window, peering out into the fog. Hearts hammering in their chest, they scan the land for any signs of movement, their eyes peering through the grated window from behind the sheets of metal they had used to barricade the bus.

"You see him?" Dustin asks quietly.

"No."

Dustin turns, calling up to the roof.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

"Hold on!" He calls, binoculars aimed at junkyard entrance.

His view flies across the landscape in a hurry, Max watching anxiously beside him as she squints through the yard. Lucas tenses when he catches a soft and barely audible thump from the east entrance, and his binoculars land on a car in the distance he could have sworn moved.

"Shit." He breathes.

Max's gaze flickers to him for a brief moment before hastily scanning the fog once more.

"What? Did you see something?"

"I-I don't know--"

His thought is cut short by his own sudden gasp, the binoculars had found a four-legged figure stalking through the fog.

"I've got eyes!" He calls. "Ten o'clock. Ten o'clock!"

Sure enough, Steve and Dustin locked eyes on the dark figure making its way through the yard.

"There," Steve whispers, his heartbeat spiking.

"What's he doing?" Dustin asks.

"I don't know."

Lucas and Max study the horizon, and Max-who now holds the binoculars-spots a four legged creature hidden in the fog. She turns to Lucas, giving him a skeptical look.

"Wait. You sure that's not a dog?"

"What?"

A familiar hitter rings through the air, and everyone stiffens. A worried look crosses Steve's face when he sees Dart circling the bait.

"He's not taking the bait. Why's he not taking the bait?"

"Maybe he's not hungry?" Dustin offered.

"Maybe he's sick of cow,"

Steve backs away from the window, his heart hammering. He knows what he has to do, but he doesn't like it. Dustin looks at him worriedly, but Steve only nods before retrieving his bat and heading for the door.

"Steve? Steve, what are you doing? Steve?"

He turns, the moonlight pouring in from the roof hatch and illuminating his worried but determined features. He retrieves his lighter from his back pocket and holds it up.

"Just get ready." He says, tossing Dustin the lighter.

The bus doors open with a creak, and slowly Steve creeps outside, bat gripped tightly in hand. He takes a few cautious steps before the bus doors close with another, shrill creak. Slowly, he paces the grounds, twirling his bat in hands ready to strike. He whistles, hoping to draw Dart near but nothing happens.

"Come on, buddy."

Max climbs hastily down the ladder, joining Dustin by the window.

"What's he doing?"

"Expanding the menu."

"Come on, buddy," Steve repeats, his voice wavering. "Come on, buddy. Come on. Dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise."

Max shakes her head in disbelief, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene.

Dustin only grins in a mix of pride and awe.

"He's awesome."

Catching a glimpse of movement, a darkness in the fog, Steve swings his bat back and forth, causing a rift in the sea of fog. Slowly it disperses, revealing a snarling and newly evolved Dart. Roughly the size of a small wolf, he now looked more like a demogorgan than ever.

Up above, Lucas spots two more figures closing in on Steve from behind.

"Steve, watch out!" He cries.

"A little busy here!" Steve snaps.

"Three o'clock! Three o'clock!"

Reluctantly, he turns and to his horror, he sees what Lucas was talking about. Scaling the surrounding vehicles are two more Dart like creatures slowly advancing on him.

In the bus, Dustin jumps to action.

"Steve!" He rips the bus door open. "Steve! Abort! Abort!"

Dart lunges at Steve before he can make his escape. The young man is able to dodge the creature's attack, just barely, before managing to duck behind a car. He can hear rapidly approaching footsteps and he turns quickly, the sharp edges of the bat striking away another demogorgan mutant.

"Steve run!"

"Steve hurry!"

With his latest opponent still winded, it buys Steve enough time to make a break for the bus, another creature hot on his heels. He has to dive, but he just barely makes it. His toes cross the threshold just as Dustin closes the door. A loud thump reverberates through the bus and it shakes violently upon impact. The mutant Demogorgan's efforts to get inside do not cease, the horrible sound of metal being clawed chills their ears and bus door continues to move.

"Holy shit!"

"Are they rabid or something?" Max shrieks.

Steve grabs an extra sheet of metal from the windshield and places it against the bouncing door. He plants his feet against it, and the sheet begins to bounce just as so.

"They can't get in!" Lucas cries. "They can't!"

The exterior takes several blows, and the whole bus rocks back and forth with it. The sound of metal hitting metal grabs their attention from the back of the bus. One of them had broken through a gap. Steve is there in seconds, with all his might he swings the bat at the slimy arm poking through.

Dustin grabs his headset, flipping it on and screams into the mic.

"Is anyone there? Y/n? Mike? God! Anyone!"

Another break in the wall sends Max and Lucas across the bus, eliciting several horrified shrieks from each of them.

"We're at the old junkyard," Dustin continues. "and we are going to die!"

Another loud and heavy thump shakes the bus, turning Max's head. It had come from the back, but all she saw was Steve finishing off the first breach. Then another thump came, and that is when she noticed the ceiling of the bus bend under each step.

One was on the bus, and it was heading straight for the roof hatch. It grew closer with every thump and slowly she looked up. For the briefest of seconds, all she saw was the night sky. Then slowly, a large slimy head came into view. Its grey, petal-liked head opened up as it snarled at her, revealing hundreds of its thorn shaped teeth and drool dribbled down the latter before her.

Her mouth opened and her petrified screams hit her ears before she could even register she had ever made a noise. Max stumbled back, and Steve's arm immediately sweeps her aside as he took her place.

"Out of the way! Out of the way! You want some? Come get this!"

He sends the spiked bat in the creatures direction and it hunches down in an attack position. Its mouth opens once more, and it lets out an awful roar. He grips the bat tighter, ready to swing when something catches its attention. Its guard lowers and looks off at the horizon in curiosity and Steve freezes.

The beast draws back in another snarl and in the blink of an eye, a thunderous boom echoes across the valley and sends it flying with a painful shriek. With it, a violent force rocks the bus that sends everyone in a mad scramble for balance. For a moment, Dustin fears in the midst of all the commotion, he had grown faint. A gust of warm wind accompanies the tremor that he first mistakes as hot flashes. But when his ears perk, they barely catch the fading echoes of a strained scream.

Everyone has frozen, completely rooted in place in fear of another attack. Max is the only one brave enough to speak.

"What the hell was that?" She hissed.

More tremors shake the ground and several grunts and thuds are heard. Everyone scrambles to the window when they realize they are no longer the target. Dustin is the last to reach the window but he realizes exactly what it is before ever laying eyes on the sight.

"Stay back!" Cries a familiar voice. "Get. the hell. back!"

Not a single soul dares to blink, much too captivated by the change in events. Packed in against the windows, fighting for space, they stare through the grated window in complete shock and awe as Y/n Henderson battles the mutants. The lot almost didn't recognize them. Besides the fact they were constantly moving-barely dodging the creatures attacks-and the powerful bursts of energy emanating from their hands, Y/n held themselves differently.

Another surprise; they were dressed in baggy, shoddy clothing. Ripped jeans two sizes too big that were buckled just above their hips, and several layered shirts Dustin nor Lucas had ever seen them wear. Everyone watched dumbfounded as Y/n threw their hands up left and right, and with it, hot bursts of air knocking back the creatures one by one.

Exhaustion was getting to them, that much was clear. Bent forward with their hands on their knees, they could see Y/n gulping down as much air as they could, legs wobbling. Before Dustin or any of the others could snap into action to help, Y/n rose once more with an angered grunt and held their hands out to strike.

"Steve! What the hell are we doing, we gotta go help them! Now!" Dustin snaps.

Steve nodded, a bewildered look on his face still. Nevertheless, his feet finally began to respond to his brain's signals and he headed for the door. The bus rattled with his movements and the Demogorgans stilled, looking towards the bus. The kids eyes widened and for a moment, Dustin feared they had been heard, further agitating the creatures. But much to everyone's surprise, one by one they retreated.

They circled Y/n, looking ready to pounce and several even snarled at the kid, but they kept moving. The angry horde of mutants ran straight for the bus and Y/n's eyes widened in fear. Without thought (or much grace in such a taxed state) Y/n ran after them, ready to protect the others. But another strange sight made Y/n stop.

The creatures had run around the bus and his friends, completely fleeing from the scene. When Y/n was sure their friends were safe, he collapsed to his knees, panting heavily.

"What the fuck just happened?" Max exclaimed suddenly.

Her words snapped everyone out of their daze and hastily they fled the bus, pooling out onto the yard and towards their saving grace.

"Y/n! Oh, my God, what the shit!" Dustin cried, running towards his tired sibling's hunched figure, sliding onto his knees and across the grass to join their side.

Y/n looked up from the ground, color drained from their face and branching out from their eyes and lips were a million tiny spider veins. They were still panting, gasping for breath, but Y/n was still very much aware of their surroundings.

"You're... welcome." They panted.

A squeaky, relieved laugh erupted from Dustin's throat and he tackled Y/n in a hug, nearly sending them both to the ground. It hurt like hell with Y/n's already aching bones. But their brother was safe, and squeezing any remaining air from their lungs.

Y/n loved it.

Smiling, they reciprocated and after a moment the siblings parted.

Y/n looked around at all the widened eyes, not at all surprised to see everyone was rendered speechless, waiting for an explanation. They licked their chapped lips and hurriedly swiped away a drop of blood from their ears as it tickled their skin.

"I'll explain, I promise." They said, slowly regaining their composure. "But somebody better tell my why the ever loving fuck those things are back?"

"Are you kidding me?" Lucas cried, breaking the brief silence hanging in the night. "You can't just pull that shit and expect us to move on!"

"Shit," Max breathes, looking at Lucas in defeat. "So, like, you really weren't kidding. I owe you an apology."

Y/n blinked rapidly in surprise, their eyebrows shooting up. Their wild eyes flickered to Lucas questioningly. Y/n had fully expected to have to explain themselves to Max and Steve, but they never expected any of them to know already.

"Lucas, you told her?" Y/n exclaims.

Lucas shifts uncomfortably on his feet, a sign of guilt despite his strong defense.

"I had to, we needed all the help we could get!"

"Lucas," Y/n warns.

"What does it matter?" They snap defensively. "You'd have to tell her anyway since she just saw all that!"

"Hey," Steve called.

"Well she wouldn't be here if you hadn't involved her!" Y/n snapped back, the grass beginning to heat beneath them and Dustin.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!"

Steve's voice rings out in the clearing, and finally everyone silences and looks to him meekly.

"Jesus, you shits never listen," He grumbles, running one hand through his hair. "Look, I don't know what the hell just happened, and I'd sure as hell love some answers, but right now we have a bigger problem on our hands. We've got a whole lot more of these things to deal with than we thought, and we need to know where they're headed so we can stop them."

"What are you talking about? Y/n scared them all off," Dustin said.

Y/n shook their head, a quizzical look blooming on their face as they did so. It hadn't hit them until now.

"No. No, I don't think I did." They said in realization. "I mean, yeah, I got them by suprise, but I was way outnumbered. They could have put up a bigger fight, but..."

"But they just stopped." Max finished, her voice grave.

Y/n nodded, lost in thought when Dustin rose to his feet, extending his hand for them to take. Grateful, Y/n took it and wobbled to their feet, dusting off their palms and shins.

"Do you think they heard something?"

"I don't know," Steve mumbled, his bat coming to rest over his shoulder. "But whatever it is, it can't be good."

There was pause as the small, rag-tag group each looked around worriedly at one another. It was soon disturbed by Lucas, who exhaled sharply.

"Okay, seriously, I can't take it anymore!" Lucas huffed, crossing his arms. "Stop dodging the question, and tell us what the hell is going on."

Y/n looked around at the curious faces and sighed. Frankly, they didn't blame Lucas. It was a reasonable ask, but the past day and a half were weighing a little too heavy on them. And their temper.

"Christ! I will!" They said, eyes darting between Steve and Max. "But I at least have the right to know how and why these two are here, seeing as they're about to hear what I have to say."

"We're low on hands, seeing as neither you, or Mike, or even Will have been answering," Dustin says, his frown slipping into a scold.

Y/n winces worriedly, taking in a sharp breath through their clenched teeth.

"About that..."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Several beams of light crawl across the murky ground. Apart from the soft crackling of their comms, the squelching sound of footsteps bounces around the tunnel.

"Almost there, ladies."

"Roger."

After several twists and turns, the men find themselves at their target location. The tunnels have led them to the hub, just as Will had so carefully instructed. They scan the area for any disturbances but find none. Just several other entrances to the hub, and among the small space are several giant spores that move as if they're breathing.

"Stay frosty, boys." One orders.

With great caution, they step forward, but a sudden snap echoes off the walls and halts their steps. They each stand aside to find several bones scattered amongst the damp earth.

From up above in the lab, Hopper takes note of the screen. His eyes widen in recognition and he urgently steps forward to examine the monitor further.

"Wait. That's where I was?"

"What?" Owens asks, turning.

"It's that damn graveyard." He says.

The soldiers slowly scatter across the grounds, several bones crush beneath their feet. The team's leader grips his weapon tighter and scans the area further as he speaks.

"Sir, there's nothing here."

The man at the controls turns his head to address Owens. His lips press into a firm line and he shrugs halfheartedly.

"Looks like your kid's full of shit, Doc."

Hopper and Owens wear a similar frown, and share an uneasy glance. They both know something is amiss, but they can't yet say why. Suddenly, as if to answer their suspicions, a long, high pitched growl echoes through the soldier's coms.

The men turn in circles, to their surprise, large clouds of fog begin to pool in from every tunnel surrounding them. It engulfs their feet and settles around their ankles, spiking their nerves as they hear the growling grow closer.

Elsewhere in the facility, Will lays stiffly in his hospital bed. He has paled once more and his lip quivers, his heart clenched with guilt.

Finally, he gathers the courage and strength to speak. Speak as himself. Though it is still with great difficulty, the second presence inside him fighting to keep him quiet.

"I-I'm sorry." He whimpers, though it feels more to him like he's screaming.

Joyce and the others perk up in confusion, and Joyce wastes no time in reassuring him. She gently rubs his arm, her heart is gripped by fear as she recognizes the same in her son.

"What? What do you mean, sweetie?" She cooes.

His breathing grows labored as he fights a losing battle against the tears forming in his eyes. He looks to his mother and he can feel himself drowning in guilt and regret. He shudders at the thought of what he has done and weakly he speaks through the tears.

"He made me do it." He sniffles.

Joyce rises to her feet to comfort her son, unaware of the thoughtful glance on Mike's face.

"Who? Who made you do what?"

Will's darkened pupils look up at her in fear, and he speaks through choked cries, his body shaking like a leaf.

"I told you," He says. "They upset him. They shouldn't have done that. They shouldn't have upset him."

Before Joyce can question him further, Mike looks up at his friend, completely aghast. His stomach plunges in fear and his eyes widen as everything clicks.

"The spy." He says fearfully, and he sees Will subtly shake his head. "The spy!"

Mike jumps to his feet, startling Bob and Joyce in the process and bolts through the door.

Above the tunnels in the observation room, a scientist monitoring the radar turns suddenly, addressing the team.

"We've got movement." She informs.

The man grips the microphone tightly, one eye on the radar as he attempts to alert the team.

"You've got company, fellas."

Back in the hallway, Mike crashed into the guards stationed by the closed-off hallway. He fights and kicks with all his might, his voice elevated and frightened.

"I need to get through! It's a trap!"

The guards roughly push him back where he fell into Bob's arms, who had followed Mike into the hall. He attempts to pull him back but Mike continues to fight against him.

"It's a trap! I need to warn them. It's a trap!" He screams.

The fog has now engulfed the hub, and the team's vision is blurred. Several frightened and overlapping voices spill out into the air as they form a tight circle.

"I can't see shit! Where are they? Where are they?"

"They're right on you!" The tech urges, growing more frightened.

The radar has completely lit up, dozens of shots sprinkle the area and all they can do is watch, hoping their warning is enough. The cameras are fogged, the radar their only hope at saving them.

"Wait, what?"

"What was that?"

Several horrific screeches pierce the air, barely muffled through the coms. The radio channel is soon filled with gunfire and terrible shrieks of agony, and all they can do now is watch and listen in horror, knowing there is little to no hope of saving them now.

And in a frantic effort to understand, Joyce lightly shakes Will's shoulders as he cries. She is choking back tears of her own as she does so.

"Will, sweetie, talk to me. You got to help me understand."

Will is crying freely now, and he shakes violently with sobs.

"It's too late."

The last thing the observation team sees is the only remaining soldier scurry for the camera when all goes to static. Everyone is shocked into silence, and they look around at one another fearfully. Hopper is the only one to move, he has taken sight of the nearest radar and his blood runs cold. Every dot on the map in near-perfect sync flees through one tunnel.

The tunnel the soldiers had come from.

"You should go." Will sobs, his eyes filled with fear.

Moments later, the silence in the observation room is disturbed by familiar shrill cries that echo out from where the elevator had disappeared.

Hopper turns to face the glass as do the others, and everyone is suddenly aware-far too late-that things were only getting worse. He races to window, and from there, all he can see is the seemingly bottomless pit, but the shrill cries only grow stronger.

"They're almost here," Will says to his frightened mother.

A concerned frown forms on Hopper's face as he studies the cables cautiously. The elevator cables begin to move, twist, and twirl, creating a reverberating hiss of metal curling before settling into small vibrations. And out of the depths of the pit, one by one, the mutated army of demogorgans emerge.

__________

Sorry if this chapter basically assumed what you usually wear. I normally stay away from all that, so if you usually wear that sort of stuff [I do too so I get it lol] I'm sorry! I do my best to let you guys imagine what you wear cause I always enjoy that in a reader insert. But the clothes will be explained next episode! (Personally, I just picture Y/n Henderson in clothes like max's in season 2, handmedowns and stuff since the Hendersons probably aren't the *richest* and it's just Claudia Henderson so yeah)

On that note, for reference for the next chapter, I know we don't all look like our parents, but for the sake of whats to come, your mom looks like you in this story if she doesn't already. Sorry again and thank you!

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b00inazkaban · 2 years ago

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MASTERLIST #2

Navigation!

Let me know if there are any characters you’d like added and I’ll look into it! :)

MARVEL:

☆ Tony Stark

☆ Steve Rogers

☆ Bruce Banner

☆ Natasha Romanoff

☆ Clint Barton

☆ Bucky Barnes

☆ Sam Wilson

☆ Peter Parker

☆ Thor Odison

☆ Loki Laufeyson

☆ Dr. Stephen Strange

☆ Peter Quill

☆ Gamora

☆ Drax the destroyer

☆ Rocket the Racoon

☆ Mantis

☆ Groot

Poly Requests:

STRANGER THINGS:

☆ Steve Harrington: Steve Harrington x FtM reader**

☆ Robin Buckley :

☆ Nancy Wheeler:

☆ Eddie Munson:

☆ Johnathan Byers:

☆ Argyle:

☆ Billy Hargrove:

☆ Mike Wheeler: Little!Mike x GN!CG!Reader

☆ Dustin Henderson

☆ Will Byers

☆ Lucas Sinclair

☆ Eleven Hopper

☆ Max Mayfield

☆ Jim Hopper:

☆ Joyce Byers:

☆ Dmitri Antonov:

Poly Requests:

HARRY POTTER/MARAUDER:

☆ Harry Potter:

☆ Ron Weasley: CG!Ron Weasley x Little!GN!reader

☆ Hermione Granger:

☆ Fred Weasley: CG!Fred Weasley x Little!Fem!Reader

☆ George Weasley: George Weasley x reader ; CG!George Weasley x LittleMale!Reader

☆ Neville Longbottom: Sub!Neville x Dom!Reader**

☆ Draco Malfoy:

☆ Blaise Zambini:

☆ Enzo Berkshire:

☆ Mattheo Riddle:

☆ Theo Nott:

☆ Pansy Parkinson:

Marauders Era or Lighting Era:

☆ Lucius Malfoy:

☆ Narcissa Malfoy:

☆ Severus Snape:

☆ Bellatrix Lestrange:

☆ Barty Crouch Jr. :

☆ Evan Rosier:

☆ Pandora Rosier:

☆ Zahara Zambini:

☆ Regulus Black:

☆ Sirius Black:

☆ Remus Lupin:

☆ Lily Evans:

☆ Marlene McKinnon:

☆ Mary McDonald:

☆ Dorcas Meadows:

FANTASTIC BEASTS:

☆ Newt Scamander:

☆ Thesus Scammander:

☆ Jacob Kowalski:

☆ Queenie Goldstein:

☆ Albus Dumbledore (young):

☆ Gellart Grindlewald (young):

Poly Requests:

CRIMINAL MINDS:

☆Aaron Hotchner

☆ Jason Gideon

☆ Spencer Reid

☆ Derek Morgan

☆ JJ/ Jennifer Jareau

☆ Elle Greenaway

☆ Penelope Garcia

☆ Emily Prentiss

☆ David Rossi

Poly Requests:

BRIDGERTON:

☆ Anthony Bridgerton

☆ Benedict Bridgerton

☆ Colin Briderton

☆ Daphne Bridgerton

☆ Eloise Bridgerton

☆ Simon Basset

☆ Penelope Fetherington

☆ Queen Charlotte (Young)

☆ King George (Young)

Poly Requests:

Queen charlotte x reader x King George

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES:

☆ Leonardo: NSFW alphabet

☆ Raphael:

☆ Donnatelo:

☆ Michelangelo: Mikey x Reader

☆ April O'Neil:

☆ Casey Jones:

Poly Requests:

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; April 4-in-1; turtles are manspreading and you want payback 😚

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; Casey tries to flirt with reader but she puts down the idea and the turtles are proud

TOP GUN:

☆ Pete Mitchell "Maverick"

☆ Bradley Bradshaw "Rooster"

☆ Jake Seresin "Hangman"

☆ Natasha Trace "Phoenix"

☆ Robert Floyd "Bob"

Poly Requests:

THE HOBBIT/LOTR:

☆ Thorin

☆ Bilbo

☆ Fili

☆ Kili

☆ Dwalin

☆ Bofur

☆ Bard

☆ Legolas

☆ Tauriel

☆ Thuranduil

Poly Requests:

TWILIGHT:

☆ Carlisle Cullen

☆ Esme Cullen

☆ Emmet Cullen

☆ Rosalie Cullen

☆ Alice Cullen

☆ Jasper Cullen: CG!Jasper Hale x nb!little!reader

☆ Edward Cullen

☆ Bella Cullen/Swan

☆ Jacob Black

☆ Garrett

The Volturi:

☆ Aro

☆ Caius

☆ Marcus

Poly Requests:

THE HUNGER GAMES:

☆ Katniss Everdeen

☆ Petta Mellark

☆ Finnick Odair

☆ Johanna Mason

☆ Haymitch Abernathy

Poly Requests:

LUCIFER:

☆ Lucifer Morningstar

☆ Mazikeen

☆ Amenadeil

☆ Chole Decker

☆ Linda Martin

Poly Requests:

How To Train Your Dragon:

☆ Hiccup Haddock

☆ Astrid Hofferson

☆ Snotlout

☆ Ruffnut

☆ Tuffnut

Poly Requests:

Across The SpiderVerse:

☆ Miles Morales

☆ Miguel O'Hara

Spider thoughts!

☆ Peter B. Parker

Spider thoughts!

☆ Hobie Brown

☆ Gwen Stacy

☆ Spider-Noir

Spider thoughts!

Poly Requests:

Descendants:

☆ Mal

☆ Evie

☆ Carlos

☆ Jay

☆ Gil

☆ Harry

☆ Uma

Poly Requests:

MATCHUPS/MOODBOARDS:

☆ @thoughtfulcreatornight x Raphael matchup

☆ Anonymous x Remus Lupin matchup

꧁〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎꧂

I’ve redone my masterlist because I was vey unhappy with my first one, and I wanted to add pictures to go with it! I’ll also be adding all my new work onto here and my old work will be on the first masterlist! Love y’all! 💗

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ariascoven · 30 days ago

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DO NOT INTERACT

minors and men.

zionist or supporter.

terf & lgbt-phobic in any way.

racist and / or ableist.

sexualizes minors, fictional or real.

ships real people.

johnny depp supporters.

I WON'T WRITE

male reader & men x reader.

g!p or anything related to penises.

fics for ships, only reader inserts.

pedophilia & incest.

non-con / rape.

bestiality & scat.

anal play.

real person fiction.

any request that makes me uncomfortable.

WILLING TO WRITE

female & gn reader.

smut, fluff & angst.

age gap, as long as reader is at least 18.

both bottom!reader and top!reader.

au’s (college au, vampire au, etc).

mommy / daddy kink.

degrading & praising kink.

breeding kink.

CHARACTERS I CAN WRITE FOR

agatha harkness / agnes o'connor.

alice wu-gulliver.

any (adult) lizzy caplan character.

ava coleman.

eve fletcher.

hela odinsdottir.

joyce byers.

lilia calderu.

loki laufeyson (nsfw only in fem. form)

peggy carter.

robin buckley.

valkyrie / brunhilde.

vanessa shelly.

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elhopper1sm · 11 months ago

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Overprotective!Jopper x Suicidal! GN Reader

TW: Angst. Like really angry. Mentions of self harm. Overprotectiveness to the max. General depression and self neglect. Binge drinking mention and substance use mention. Mentions of food and weight. Drunk driving(no one gets injured luckily)

Also use of the term honey as a nickname from both of them instead of y/n. Or both actually.

You started behaving strange. You were binge drinking more often. Not just a beer after work or something. But like really drinking a lot. You acted more reckless. You slept all day and got no sleep at night. You were easily angered. You felt guilty because you didn't understand why doing simple things around the house or asked to do simple things made you so angry. You would spend more time alone. Reading or just looking for excuses to work on the car alone. Things you once liked no longer bring you joy. Hopper would hug you when you came home from work but no reaction. Joyce would bury her face in your shoulder and showered your cheeks in kisses and you'd look at her stone-faced. You weren't sad. It was worse you were numb. Everyday dragged on and on. You stared at clocks waiting for it to be time for you to sleep. You felt almost alien. You couldn't stand the thought of food. There'd be times dinner would be served and you'd just stare at a full plate absolutely zombified unable to even conceptualize eating. Yet somehow you still gained weight. The only time you did eat it was junk. That was the only food that brought you joy. Eating a proper meal felt like torture. It got to the point. You wouldn't even sleep next to Joyce and Hopper. You'd sleep alone on the couch listening to the sound of the TV. That is if you even bothered to sleep at all. You acted fine. You tried to. Tried to smile at them. And act like you enjoyed hanging out with them. But you felt guilty you couldn't fake it anymore not for much longer. One night you went for a drive . Only problem is you were noticeably intoxicated. You went at night because you didn't want anyone else to get hurt. Just wanted to hurt yourself. You grabbed your jacket and it must've been two in the morning. You drove. As you drive around Hawkins Indiana. You were stopped by Officer Callahan

"Hello. Uh we're gonna have to ask you to step out of the car. We're gonna need to see one license and registration" Officer Callahan spoke

You stepped out of the car . Handed the officer your license. The second you step out the car Callahan notices you're wasted

" Oh Y/N Y/L/N. We're gonna have to take you to the station" Officer Callahan replies

On your way to the station. They discover this is your first offense. You don't have any history of bad driving or any serious misdemeanors.

" Is there anyone you'd like to call to come pick you up? Since you're clearly not capable of driving yourself back home" Office St. Louis asked

"My wife. Joyce Byers" You replied

As she buried her way there after hearing what happened. The second you got home her and Hopper chewed you out

" Honey. What the hell were you thinking? Drunk driving at 2 in the morning???? At this time of night when you can barely see. You could've gotten killed" Joyce screamed.

"Yeah I don't know what's gotten into you. Just last week you were yelling at us for hugging you. What the hell has gotten into you!" Hopper was even louder clearly very disappointed.

"Oh fuck off! And get off my case" You replied. You snarled as you spoke. You hated them. Not because they were bad to you. But because they were so wonderful. Because they're the only things keeping you alive. And you wanted to leave without feeling guilty. Because if you pushed them.away you'd have nothing to stay for and you wanted to go in peace. To pass away

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Joyce asked. Extremely concerned. She'd never seen you like this before.

You got anxious wondered if the kids could hear. You realized you needed to lower your voice as to not disrupt them. You didn't want to put them through that kind of pain you knew what it was like.

"Nothing. Can't I just make stupid decisions once in a while? Jeez get off my case. I'm not a toddler" You responded

"It's not about stupid decisions. You could've gotten someone killed. You could've gotten yourself killed. You could have died. Do you understand? Now tell us right now why you did it because we're not leaving you alone until you do. And its not like you can just drive off because your license has been confiscated by the Hawkins PD." Hopper demands an answer. Almost foaming at the mouth for one.

"Ok fine you wanna know. I was planning to die. Crash into something. That's why I went at the dead of night. Where no one else would be. So no one could see me. Maybe go into the next town over and crash my car so I could rest in Peace. So no one would no how bad I felt. I just wanted to feel peace. Ok? Are you happy now?" You tried to be mindful of raising your voice the kids were asleep and you didn't want to disturb them. But you felt frustrated and angry. You were already crying. And drunk so it's not like logic would get thru to you.

Joyce immediately wrapped her arms around you and held you. Running her fingers thru your hair.

"Honey is that true? Do you mean that?" Joyce asked as her voice trembled. She held you closer. Already crying

You felt guilty seeing her cry this is the opposite of what you wanted.

"Yeah it's true. I'm sorry. So so sorry. I didn't intend for this to happen. I just I felt so horrible. And now I feel even worse. You all loved me so much. And I destroyed it by being a prick" You kept talking feeling overwhelming guilt.

Hopper walked over to you and tried to get you to look at him. You'd been avoiding his gaze. He'd been crying. And he rarely ever cried. Not since he lost Sarah did he cry that intensely. And you hated yourself more than ever. You felt so upset. You made them cry. And what if your kids wake up? And you bring them into this mess as well. You failed and being a partner and a parent. And you failed at your own death. You're an idiot and everyone else is paying for it. You cried. Silently because you couldn't handle waking up the kids. You held onto both of them. And you were so irritable it hurt. You cling to the for safety and held them close.

"Honey do you wanna tell us how long you've felt like that?" Joyce asked.

"I guess a few months ago. I just don't remember what happened. I just remember feeling guilty and it ate me up inside. I got lazier and it felt harder to do anything. And I was angry at the both of you for being so sweet to me. I just...." You looked up at Hopper and Joyce and tried to avert your eyes away from their gaze.

Hopper wipes the tears away.... To face you again.

"Y/N why didn't you tell us?"Hopper asked

"I felt guilty. I didn't want you to care or stop me. I felt horrible. And like I wasn't supposed to be around. I don't know how" You kept clinging to both of them for warmth and they gave it to you.

"Honey. Did you do any reckless things before today like things we should know about" Joyce asked politely still holding onto you.

"I uh cut myself. All on my thighs. I didn't want anyone especially the kids to see. I didn't want to be worried. Also scratching my thighs until they bleed. I would reopen old wounds." You said to her you didn't wanna lie. You already felt guilty enough

Hopper looked extremely distraught as he looked closer at you. He saw you had serious eye bags and your teeth were yellowing. You were wearing a jacket even though it was hot in the room probably iron deficient

"Jeez how'd we not notice sooner. You've been drinking more. You've been acting reckless. You're getting like no sleep. You don't eat enough. Your teeth are yellowing. I'm sorry honey we didn't notice." Hopper grabs your hand and takes you to the bathroom.

Joyce Follows him. They scrub your hair clean and comb it. And condition it and use dry shampoo. They help you brush your teeth. They clean your cuts and wrap new bandages around you. Throughout the next few weeks They continue looking after you. Reminding you to brush your teeth. Or eat. Something. Bringing you snacks at work. And helping you get ready for bed. You feel like a toddler again but it feels nice. Being tended to and cared for. In some strange way you feel nice for the first time. They lock away anything sharp or potentially dangerous even forks. And they keep the alcohol in a special cabinet you can't access. They drive you to and from work since you've gotten your license suspended. They always make sure you sleep near the and make sure you sleep as much as you need. Even having you call out of work if they feel you haven't slept enough the night before. They make you breakfast and dinner and make adjustments to any meal they need to as long as you promise to eat something. And they offer to clean any new injuries you may have given yourself without judgement.

"Honey I hope you know that you're going to get better ok? We promise we'll make you better. It's just a matter of time. No one here is gonna hurt you. We promise" The both say in unison before kissing you on the cheek.

#stranger things #jopper x reader #joyce byer x reader #joyce x hopper #joyce byers x reader #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #polyamory #poly x reader #tw sewerslide #tw sh related

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poisonedprose · 1 year ago

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stranger things m.list ! - 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑

carrd - nav - masterlists - reqs

Started - 6/5/22

Last Updated - 6/9/23

Total Works - 29

ships (17) !

nickname - steddie — in which steve calls eddie 'eds' for the first time

get out - byler / 1 2 3— in which will confesses but mike isn't thrilled but the idea grows on him over time

just once - byler — in which mike cheats on will but it was 'only one time'

in the basement - byler (16+ please!) — in which will gives mike head in his basement

wish you were gay - steddie — in which steve is so drunk he professes his love for eddie

arguement - byler — in which will finds out mike joined hellfire but mike finds a way to make it up to him

midnight kisses - steddie — in which steve and eddie are making it out. thats all.

sex at work - steddie / 1 2 (16+ please!) — in which eddie fucks steve in the back room at family video

bottom - steddie — in which steve teases eddie for being a bottom

movies - jopper — in which hop helps joyce relax

hero - steddie — in which steve reacts to eddie's death in the upside down

sex, drugs, etc. - steddie (16+ please!) — in which steve and eddie get high and fuck

backseat dilemma - byler — in which mike catches will crying after he gives him the painting

wanna be yours - byler — in which modern!mike and will make out to arctic monkeys

━━━━

x readers (12) !

comfort hugs - eddie munson x platonic!gn!reader — in which eddie gives the best hugs to cheer you up

late night confessions - mike wheeler x gn!reader — in which mike confesses he likes you after el breaks up with him

hellfire shirt - mike wheeler x gn!reader — in which you steal mike's hellfire shirt to wear to school

sick - steve harrington x gn!reader — in which steve discovers your sick and refuses to let you go to school

early mornings - nancy wheeler x gn!reader — in which you and nancy wake up early to spend quality time

sunsets - robin buckley x fem!reader — in which you and robin watch the sun set after school

lovesick - mike wheeler x gn!reader — blurb about mike wheeler being lovesick !

touchstarved - steve harrington x gn!reader — blurb about steve harrington being touchstarved !

you drew stars around my scars - mike wheeler x gn!reader — in which mike finds your self harm scars but loves you regardless

your smile, my ghost - mike wheeler x gn!reader — in which mike comforts you after you wake up from a nightmare

smile for the camera baby - mike wheeler x fem!reader (16+ please!) — in which mike spots his polaroid camera and wants to take some pictures

needy - jonathan byers x gn!reader (16+ please!) — blurb about jonathan byers being needy !

#! ♡ ₊˚✧ st .#stranger things #stranger things masterlist #stranger things x reader #steddie #byler #jopper #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #mike wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #jonathan byers x reader #robin buckley x reader

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hrtbrkwthrs · 2 years ago

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Empty

Steve Harrington x gn!reader

Summary: Reader is at their limit but Steve interrupts their plans for the end. (hurt/comfort fic)

Notes: Reader is Dustin's older sibling - you can interpret that however best fits for you. Biological, adopted, half, etc. Any works for this fic! Reader uses they/them pronouns. NO use of y/n. I can't even tell you how long this has been in my drafts bro

Trigger Warnings: no specific mental illness is mentioned but in a general sense, SEVERE depression is heavily implied. Detailed depictions of depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, almost attempted suicide using pills (all from reader).

This fic has a fairly detailed moment where reader is cutting themselves. I wrote this originally only for myself as a form of comfort. Please THINK before you decide to read this. The most important thing here is for you to stay safe. The sole purpose of me posting this fic is for readers who are similar to myself that might find comfort in this, but not everybody will get the same thing out of this fic, so please please please do NOT read if this will trigger you in any way.

Empty. The room feels empty. Your heart feels empty. Your hope feels empty. The emptiness pierced through your chest like an arrow, cold and sharp and leaving you breathless. Your tears fall from your face like a flood as you sit on the ever-so-slightly scratchy carpet underneath you, one hand brushing over the fabric, the other playing with the necklace you wore around your neck. The necklace with the guitar pick. Eddie's guitar pick.

Eddie Munson was your best friend since the first grade. He meant the world to you. He helped you through your darkest times, the times when depression would hit too hard, the times you'd feel like you were wasted space in the world around you, the times you got too sick to function, the times you relapsed. He stayed there with you until his last dying breath, a breath that shouldn't have come. It wasn't at all fair that he died saving a town that only ever judged him, outcast him, berated him. It wasn't at all fair that he was gone.

He took that last dying breath only days after he witnessed the gruesome death of Chrissy Cunningham, framed for murder, and tragically stuck in the middle of the most cursed parts of Hawkins, Indiana. You'd been there before. Three times. Starting when your little brother's best friend, Will, disappeared. Dustin snuck around in secret at first, but you knew him well. You knew him better than anyone did, aside from maybe himself, so you figured it all out pretty quickly. And that's the thing about the trust between you two - it made it easy for him to tell you everything when you asked. To trust you to hold him in your arms on the most difficult nights, softly singing the lyrics to Heroes by David Bowie to help soothe him as he would slowly but surely fall asleep. Just like you did when you were younger.

Those three times had left you to mourn the loss of your friend, Barb, your little cat, Mews, and the man that made Joyce Byers smile for the first time in over a year, Bob. And as much as you hated Billy Hargrove - the man that abused his sister, Max Mayfield, made racist remarks about Lucas Sinclair, verbally spat in the faces of anybody he spoke to, and beat Steve Harrington to a pulp - even he had died tragically. Though you were sure it wouldn't have effected you near as much if it weren't for the shattered heart of Max Mayfield - a heart that you and your friends desperately tried to help piece back together - it still left your own heart heavy.

The fourth time around was different, though. As your best friend, you had done everything in your power to protect Eddie from the things you've had the misfortune of witnessing before, even if it created a barrier in the middle of your relationship. But the Upside Down had other plans when a monster named Vecna gave Eddie the burden of witnessing Chrissy shake in a trance, eyes rolling to the back of her head, floating, limbs folding and crunching, eyes sucked into her body. He had no choice but to be a part of it all. Vecna gave him no choice.

The monster got into the minds of anybody who was suffering. He fed off of defeat, distress, heartache... it made him stronger. He tried taking Max, and he almost got her, but Eleven brought her heart back. That didn't change the fact that she did die, though, even if only for a moment. It still gave Vecna that little ounce of power that he needed. The power to open up the rift to the Upside Down, a rift that split Hawkins into quarters... the great "earthquake" of Hawkins, Indiana.

You grieved the loss of Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, and even basketball player Jason Carver, all while praying desperately to anybody above who would listen that Max would wake up from a coma, miraculously escaping death. You all visited her every single day, none of you dared to leave her alone. Her hospital room, despite being arid and lifeless, was unofficially deemed the spot, all of you gathered there to hang out almost every day as she recovered. You covered the room in posters and knickknacks, left behind toys and board games that you could have simply brought back the next time you came, just to mask the bleak atmosphere. It took half a year, but your prayers were answered, and she did miraculously escape death.

Two years later and her body grows closer and closer to fully healing everyday. Her sight came back faster than her smiles, but eventually, she got those back too.

But the reason for your tears as you sit on the floor in a dark, empty room at this very moment, gripping onto the pick that hung around your neck, wasn't to mourn your best friend Eddie Munson. The pick only helped to nudge a few breaths back into you, reminding you about all of the times Eddie held you in his arms and begged you to keep going, to stay alive, trying desperately to convince you of the truth - that everyone around you loved and needed you here, that you couldn't die, not even if it was at your own hand.

The reason was your mind. The way your thoughts were able to make your heart ache, your body shake, your lungs desperately scratch for air. You felt like you were drowning, and to make things worse, you had no one reason why. It was a mix of everything. Everybody you had mourned in your life, every intrusive thought that had you second guessing reality, every time your mind would flash back to every trauma you've experienced.

You turned on music, started watching tv, writing, dancing, anything to help you to slow your thoughts, make them more bearable. But it didn't work. They just wouldn't stop.

You've coped with this burden for as long as you can remember, Eddie, Dustin and your mother being there for you every step of the way as you were in and out of hospitals, therapy, relapses. When everything with the Upside Down kick-started, you thanked whatever higher being out there that your meds were working like they needed to be. It helped to grow close to the new people around you - Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, Joyce... Hell, even the little ones, Will, Lucas, Mike, Eleven, and Max. Your support system was strong. You weren't alone. And while it undeniably helped, nothing was cured.

You made it through every time, and you thought that should have helped, that it should have put everything into perspective. You're alive, most of your loved ones are alive, you've got a long list of people surrounding you who understand exactly what you've been through... yet it only made your stomach churn with guilt. Guilt that you had no right to be depressed over anything, not when things like the Upside Down existed, not when there were worse things out there. But you couldn't help it. You didn't understand how you couldn't even bring yourself to get out of bed a lot of times, but your friends were getting out of bed, getting dressed, showering, existing every single day...

You wondered why you couldn't do that. You wondered why your mind worked so hard against you every second you were awake. You wondered why you were still alive and not Eddie. Not Barb. Not Bob. If you can barely exist, so weak, so cowardly, so ungrateful, but they were giving their all every single day, then why were you the one who made it out alive?

It was eating you from the inside out. The guilt. The survivors guilt. The guilt of just simply feeling. The fleeting guilt of hurting your loved ones if you were to die, though it was quickly washed away by the knowledge that it wouldn't matter, that they would be better off without you, that you didn't matter enough for anybody to be effected by your death.

You hadn't talked about how you were feeling in two years. Since Max almost died, that guilt had gotten so severe that you just couldn't bring yourself to let anything out anymore. So you held it in. You held it in until you were about to burst at the seams. And even then, you couldn't seem to allow yourself to let it out.

But now here you were, alone in the empty room you sat in, the spare bedroom of your house. The only room that had a lock on the door. Usually, your mom, Dustin, and you were respectful of knocking, respectful of each other's privacy... but you couldn't risk it. Not right now. On the floor beside you was a Coke can - the classic, not the new kind - next to a bottle of pills, a note you had carefully hand-written, and your pocket knife. You had this planned for weeks now, and you finally reached your limit. It was time to set the plan into action.

Your grip on Eddie's guitar pick tightened, if that were even possible. Your forearm wiped away at your tears, which deemed to be useless when the tears fell far too quickly. The emptiness you had once felt moments ago was suddenly gone, replaced with the weight of a burden much too heavy for you to bear. A burden of existing with a mind so relentless. Reluctantly, you let go of the pick around your neck and grabbed your knife, popping the blade out and sucking in as much of a breath as you could take.

Without thinking, you pushed down. The cold sting on your wrist made you shudder, eyes closing in relief. Feeling the blood trickling down your wrist had urged you to open your eyes, to take in the sight of every emotion you endured being put on display. The breath you held finally escaped your lungs, and for the first time in days, you noticed your breathing begin to even out. As if you weren't drowning anymore, yet simply floating at the surface of the water you were once drowning in only moments ago.

You continue your actions, the crushing heaviness you felt in your lungs lessening with each cut. When you felt satisfied with your work, you let the blood trickle down and make a mess. That was the most satisfying part of it all. The visible mess and what it represented; hey, this pain is real, it's not all in your head.

You sighed, your tears lessened just a bit as your breathing evened out and you felt more at ease. Your shakey hands slowly but surely untwisted the cap of the bottle of pills, fumbling a bit more than you should have - damned safety cap. Nevertheless, you popped it open and poured about a dozen pills into your hand, but before you could wrap your other hand around the coke can next to you, you heard the front door open. Fuck.

"I just need to grab my bag! It has all the walkie talkies."

Dustin.

"Dude is that really necessary?"

Mike.

"Can you two shut up and hurry? We've got places to be!"

Steve, ending his sentence with a clap. He must have been the last to enter because you heard the front door shut shortly after.

You winced at the sound. The sound of your little brother talking, not knowing you were about to end your life in the next room. The sound of your friends, Mike and Steve, mostly unaware of your mental struggles and completely clueless to your current state.

You heard shuffling footsteps and indistinctive murmuring between the three boys. Dustin shut his door and you let out a short breath knowing they were finally about to leave - except they didn't.

"Wait, Dustin, where's your sibling?"

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to hold back from sobbing at the mention of you. The tears were hard enough to control as it was.

"I don't know, probably with Robin," Dustin shrugged it off and you hoped it'd end with that, but it didn't.

"But their car is still in the driveway," Steve speculated, "plus, Robin's working."

You heard the footsteps growing closer to you, and the door to your room opened. "They're not in here," Dustin said with worry. He called out your name, but of course he didn't get a response. He knew you were at an all time low right now, he saw it every day, so of course his first response would be to worry.

The door knob on the spare room that you were in wiggled. "The spare bedroom is locked!" Dustin called out, frantically fumbling with it.

Little did you know, Dustin had been updating everyone of your struggles. He couldn't bear the weight of it all alone. Plus, they all cared for you. They wanted you to be okay. They missed you. They loved you. So they tried to help in every way possible.

"You don't think they're... like, cut-"

Steve cut Mike's words short, "I got a paper clip. Let me open it," he got closer to the door, "step back with Mike, okay Dustin?"

"Okay," you heard your little brother's voice crack and you could tell he was on the verge of tears. You, however, were way past tears. Your sobs had you almost gasping for air as you tried desperately to hold them back, but you know they'd heard them. Quickly, you reached for the bottle of pills before the door swung open.

"Shit," you whispered when the bottle of pills tumbled over.

Steve was quick to hide you from the kid's line of sight with his body. He looked at you with sad eyes, talking in a breath as you frowned at him with guilt.

He turned around, "wait out here," he instructed the boys and turned to face you. He slowly walked closer before sitting next to you on the ground.

He wrapped his arms around you gently as you finally let yourself cry. Sobs ripped from your chest as the tears flooded, and you knew his shirt was already tear-stained. Steve held you long enough for you to finally catch a breath before he pulled away to assess the current situation.

He gently wrapped his hand around your wrist, maneuvering your arm so that he could see the cuts. "How many did you take?" His eyes scanned the still bleeding cuts as he asked about the pills.

"None," you told him, "the bottle tipped over," you frowned, "I made a mess..."

"My love..." His eyes glossed as tears threatened to fall from the corners of his eyes. "You're okay, don't worry about the mess. Let's just get you cleaned up, alright?"

You shook, more than you were before, as your sobs evened out slowly. Steve stood up, helping you slowly get on your feet, and he guided you to the bathroom.

He helped to pick you up and you sat on the counter, but the movement made you realize just how groggy you were starting to feel. You felt tired - exhausted, even - and almost fell over, but Steve held you up. "I got you, baby. You're okay. Stay awake for me, alright?"

He grabbed a wash cloth and wet it before guiding your arm under the water. He did his best to be gentle with you as he helped to clean your cuts. Finally, he wrapped a towel around your arm, instructing you to hold it there as he searched the medicine cabinet for some bandages.

"Aha," he pronounced when he found the bandage wrap that he was looking for. He got some antibiotic cream and covered your now-clean wounds, wrapping the bandage just tight enough around your wrist to help the bleeding slow down and protect the cuts from worsening.

"There. All clean," he smiled at you as he held your wrist in his hand while his other hand covered yours. You were much too tired to try and fake a weak smile for him.

"Now, do you want to talk? Or would you rather watch some movies or something?" Steve gave you options, and none of them included leaving you alone. "Dustin and Mike are here, too. I can call Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Max... Anybody you want around. We all talk if you want, or we can order a bunch of pizza and binge your favorite show on Netflix."

He rambled more and more options for you to choose from, proving that he would really do pretty much anything to comfort you in this moment. You sighed, but a real smile actually seemed to form on your lips - albeit small, but it was there.

"I think... I'm really tired, Steve..." you confessed, really only wanting to sleep. Steve frowned a little.

"Let's get you to bed, then," he rubbed circles on the back of your hand soothingly. "I'll let the boys know. They won't mind playing some video games or something while we take a nap."

"We...?" you questioned hesitantly, suddenly feeling a bit nervous, but too tired to care enough.

"If that's alright with you? I'm a little sleepy too," he smiled gently.

You only nodded in response.

He'd assumed you didn't really want to talk to Dustin or Mike right now, and that assumption was correct, so he went to update them on the situation and they both understood.

When Steve returned to the bathroom, he helped you down from the counter and lead you to your room, practically tucking you in. He climbed into the bed next to you and the two of you faced each other.

"I think you're fantastic," he said to you, "and you mean a lot to me. You mean a lot to all of us. Especially Dustin," he smiled. "That boy would die for you in a heartbeat."

You frowned slightly, taking in his words as much as possible as your eyes got heavier. "I'm sorry," you apologized.

"No, love, don't apologize. You've got nothing to be sorry for. Pinky promise."

It was a joke between the two of you. The first time you really spoke to each other, you made him pinky promise to keep his end of a bargain - you buy the drinks and he doesn't talk about his hair for the rest of the week. It was funny, and neither of you expected it to mean anything, but it stuck.

"Okay," you smiled at him.

"There's that beautiful smile," Steve tucked your hair behind your ear, careful not to startle you.

"We need you here," he finally began, "you light up the room every time. You're our light. You're funny and kind. You're amazing. You've gone through so so much. You're allowed to be sad. To cry. But please, talk to us when you need to. Please stay."

Steve's words resonated with you, so much so that a small tear escaped from the corner of your eye. "Okay," you repeated from the last time.

And before he could say anything else, your eyes closed and you were asleep.

With him there, you finally got a genuinely good sleep for the first time in a long while.

When you finally woke up from your nap, Steve wasn't in the bed anymore. You frowned slightly, until you heard his voice bantering with Mike and Dustin's in the living room. A sigh escaped your lips as you rolled out of the bed and headed into the living room.

Dustin was the first to notice, not bothering to pause whatever video game was on the TV as he dashed towards you. His arms wrapped around you immediately, "you're awake!!"

A small smile formed on your lips as you pat his head and hugged him back, "I'm awake."

"I love you so much," Dustin mumbled against your shoulder, tightening his grip on you. "Please stay."

Your hug tightened around him this time before you pulled away and looked into his eyes, "I'm not going anywhere, Dustin."

Mike stared from afar, his attention on you and making sure you were okay had occupied his mind, any attention towards the video game he was playing with Dustin was lost.

Steve made his way over to you, Dustin going back to the couch to let the two of you speak. "How are you feeling?" Steve questioned.

"I don't know," you admitted, "but I finally got some actual sleep for the first time in a while." A weak chuckle escaped your lips.

"That's good..." Steve ran his fingers through his hair, "you know, uh... well, Dustin isn't the only one who really needs you here. I mean, Mike was lost trying to process what had happened... he was terrified. And, well, I..." he stopped himself there, inhaling deeply and averting his eyes from yours to the ground.

His hand rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, his eyes meeting yours again as he continued, "I can't lose you."

Your breath caught in your throat as you studied his eyes and took the time to process what Steve had just told you.

Before you could say anything, he continued his words in a frantic effort to explain himself, "I, uh, I know we weren't ever very close.. I mean, before I started hanging out with your brother, I was... kinda a shitty dude," he let out a breathy chuckle, "and you were so shy, you hung out with Eddie, who didn't exactly get along with my clique, and..." he paused, letting out a deep sigh before continuing his ramble, "what I mean to say is, letting Dustin drag me to your house that night to help him explain all of this upside down shit to you... Well, it led me to you, so..."

You raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of your lips curved upwards, fully understanding what he was saying, but teased him anyways. "So....?" You pushed for him to finish what he was saying.

"So, I guess maybe I should thank the little shit," a breathy laugh escaped his lips as he joked with you.

You giggled quietly and put both of your hands on either side of his face, locking eye contact with him. Judging by the way your cheeks burned, the blush on your face was prevalent, you were sure. His left hand went to your waist, pulling you in a little closer as his right hand gently curved around the back of your neck.

"Can I kiss you?"

You nodded in response, "Yes," you whispered.

He leaned down and brought his lips to yours, kissing you slowly. He had to force himself to break the kiss before he was in too deep to stop, the closed-lip, dopey smile on his face as he looked at you would have made you think that he was in love with you, if you didn't know better.

Or maybe, you were on the right track. Either way, you knew you had a friend in him, and everybody that you cared about truly did care about you, too. You finally felt safe for the first time in a very long time.

divider credits: @cafekitsune @silkholland

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doomed-by-the-narrativ3 · 1 year ago

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💜Request Info! 💜

Stranger Things:

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Nancy Wheeler

Robin Buckley

Jonathon Byers

Argyle

Chrissy Cunningham

Jim Hopper

Joyce Byers

(I won’t do Billy, I’m sorry I just won’t)

Aphmau (Diaries and Mystreet)

Garroth Ro’Meave

Laurance Zvahl

Dante

Zane Ro’Meave

Aaron Lycan

Travis

Gene

Aphmau

Katelyn

Lucinda

(Likely to add more as I rewatch both series, currently on season 1 of Diaries)

We’re gonna start with that ladies, gentlemen and non-binary friends! Depending on how busy I am or if my interest shifts I may add other fandoms (such as The Arcana, Marvel, or some video games)

I will do smut, fluff, angst- all of it! I will not do incest ships, heavily fetishized gay ships (for example if you’re a cisgender woman requesting a fuck ton of garrance smut, that shit is just not gonna fly here I’m not gonna feed your fetish), or any smut with underage characters!

I’m not that into shipping or fan fiction about ships but depending on the request I will be willing to fulfill it, it just may come slower compared to x readers. For example Steddie and Garrance specifically make me pretty uncomfortable but if you’re respectful about it and aren’t fetishizing male relationships I will be willing to fulfill a request for you. That said Male!Reader and GN!Reader are encouraged! I would love to give you guys content! (Since you’re definitely not cis women just wanting to get off to men fucking each other)

Please respect my boundaries whether they are stated here or I respond to a request setting one!

***If you are requesting smut please use an 18+ warning, MDNI, etc at the start of your ask!! I can't put read more bar in before the ask so this is the alternative. I won't do the request/will ask you to resubmit with this before I write for you!!***

💜Have a Lovely Day💜

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harringtonswriting · 2 years ago

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christmas tree phone home | s.h.

summary: you and steve decide to spend the evening decorating your first christmas tree together in your home pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader word count: 1.3k warning(s): honestly just pure christmas time fluff notes: merry christmas and happy holidays!! i know this is a little last minute, and cutting it close, but i hope you enjoy it!! i wish all of you the absolute best, and whatever you do or don't celebrate, i hope you stay safe, warm, and happy! ily all!!

...

“Y’know, if you squeeze one eye shut and tilt your head to the right, it kinda looks like E.T..”

Steve groans, and you giggle as he throws a plastic bauble at you—without the hook in it, of course—from across the living room where he’s currently sitting cross-legged in front of your Christmas tree.

“Babe, come on,” he says, his voice dangerously close to whining, and you toss the bauble back. He fumbles it, just a bit, before it lands in his lap and he picks it up to put a hook on it and hang it up on the more than slightly scraggly Christmas tree in front of him. “Don’t tell our son he looks like an alien, he’s self-conscious enough as it is.”

“Hey, I think E.T. is adorable.” Which is only partly true, but it makes Steve smile as he grabs some more of the small ornaments shaped like tiny presents to put on a few of the branches; not that there are many to begin with on the tree you’d come home with. Steve had wanted to get one of the giant eight footers, but after seeing the price tags on those trees, and realizing it wouldn’t fit in the elevator or possibly even through your front door, you’d found the sad little four foot pine tree on the edge of the tree lot and claimed that it was the tree for the two of you. And Steve could never say no to you, so with a roll of his eyes and his breath puffing in the cold December air, he loaded the tree onto the roof of his car and brought your new son home.

You feel warmth spread in your chest as you continue untangling the strings of lights for the tree that Karen Wheeler had told Nancy to give the two of you last week, which was right next to the strands of silver tinsel that Joyce Byers had pressed into your hands four days ago when you had dropped Will and El off at their place.

It’s your first Christmas you’ve spent together in your little apartment; you’d moved in together at the tail end of the summer, with a lot of help (and mild complaining) from your friends, the kids, and even a few of the parents as well (with Hopper handling most of the heavy lifting and sparing your poor back and knees). It had taken some time for you and Steve to get accustomed to living together and sharing the space; to the leaky faucet in the kitchen and how thin the walls were; to living on the fourth floor in a building where your entire place could fit into one room at Steve’s parents’ place; and to finally unpack everything, which, with these Christmas decorations, you’d got the last of the boxes in your closet taken care of.

But, because the two of you are just starting out on your own, you didn’t have too much to begin with. Which is why, you suspect, the different adults in your life had started passing on some of their things to you once you and Steve had gotten a tree. Even Hopper had donated some of the decorations that are scattered around Steve on the living room floor, citing that Joyce already had too damn much and how he has no room for them anymore. But he’d lifted the corners of his lips in that almost-smile he reserved mostly for El and Joyce when you’d accepted them, promising to put them up, and Steve had been overjoyed to see the new ornaments and insisted on putting them up as soon as possible. Which was, apparently, tonight.

He’d lured you in with the promise of hot chocolate and cuddles once everything was finished, and so while he plunked himself down on the floor, you’d settled on the couch until you got everything all sorted out. Which, since the lights are now officially tangle free, is now, so you get up and grab those and bring them over to where Steve is sitting. You then grab the tinsel, putting that down too, and Steve grabs your hand to place a kiss on the inside of your wrist as you do so.

“C’mon, Steve, let’s get our son looking like a very pretty alien,” you tell him, and Steve grabs a strand of lights and gets up on his feet. You take it from him and he grabs another, and the two of you start wrapping the lights around the thin branches. You try and make it as presentable as you can before you start in on the tinsel, and then the ornaments themselves. You smile at Steve through the branches, watching as his tongue comes to poke out of the corner of his mouth as he tries to balance one of the tiny fake presents on a particularly awkwardly angled branch. He manages it, and then his eyes meet yours and you can feel yourself start to melt at the wide grin on his face and the way his large, soft brown eyes crinkle at their corners while his nose scrunches just slightly.

“Time for the big finale,” he says, grabbing the plug on the end of the bottom string of lights and plugging it in. The tree lights up before your eyes, and god do you feel proud of the two of you for how well it turned out. The warm white of the lights reflects off the silver on the tinsel, lighting it up and making it shine. The little ornaments scattered about the tree, which you’d tried to hang as evenly as possible, are cast with soft shadows and even they look magical. Steve comes over to stand beside you, one arm snaking itself around your waist as he looks at your tree. “Well? What do you think?”

In response you reach out to touch your finger to one of the warm, white lights and turn your head up to look up at Steve. You can’t help the grin on your face as you do so.

“E.T. phone home,” you say, doing your best E.T. impression, and you giggle as he groans and squishes you closer to him. The fingers on the hand around your waist sneak up under your shirt, starting to tickle you. “Okay! I’ll stop!” Steve tickles you for a few more seconds before relenting, and you take a minute to catch your breath. “Our son looks amazing, Steve, I promise. I love him.”

“Me too,” he agrees, and you look back over at him. The lights from the tree bathe him in his own soft glow, casting light and shadows on his face that have you admiring just how beautiful he is here, standing with you. If you could place Steve on top of the tree you absolutely would, your own angel come to life, pressed warmly against your side and looking so absolutely enamoured by the tree that you really do think Christmas magic is real. And you know that you’re going to do everything you can to give Steve the Christmas he deserves.

First, though, he needs to hold up his end of your deal. “Now, I believe I was promised some hot chocolate and cuddles, good sir.” Steve responds by ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, before pulling you towards the kitchen.

“You know I always keep my promises to you, baby.” Which he does, settling you up on the counter while he makes you some wonderfully warm and sweet hot chocolate that you share together on the couch, admiring your tree until you fall asleep snuggled together on the couch.

What you failed to notice, however, was that one of the ornaments on your adorably droopy little tree wasn’t actually an ornament; it’s a tiny little box tied with a tiny little bow, like the ornaments Hopper had given you, but this one is a real present that Steve took a lot of care to hide as best he can among the branches. It’s going to be the last present he gives you on Christmas morning, and the one he’s really hoping you love the most.

(You do.)

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things

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stevesxyellowxsweater · 1 year ago

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Stay

PAIRING: Jim Hopper x gn!reader WC: 1200+ CW: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!! Swearing, jealousy, implied sex, reader is an fbi agent, unedited work. SUMMARY: You're sent to Hawkins to find out about the disappearance of Barbara Holland and Will Byers' death and resurrection. You find yourself hitting it off with the police chief, but it seems he's only interested in a one time thing. AUTHOR NOTES: This is just a simple bit of fluffy angst that I've been thinking about, it's unedited so please ignore mistakes. First time writing Hopper so enjoy.

Jim Hopper was a stubborn guy, it was a fact you knew all too well from the moment you became friends with the guy. You'd been in town looking into what had been happening with these disappearances and Jesus like comeback of Will Byers. The FBI had become very interested and sent you to investigate. Hawkins wasn't somewhere you'd expected to be, yet you found yourself there.

You'd sat in Hopper's office, the pair of you trying to be more stubborn than the other. You refusing to believe his answers and him trying hard to dodge your questions or giving you a pack of lies. He'd finally given up and sighed.

“We've been at this all day, can I buy you a beer?”

“That's the smartest thing you've said all day.”

That was how the friendship started, you sat in the bar together that night discussing your love for old westerns. Talking about his divorce and about your separation from your high school sweetheart, you discussed law enforcement, and when the night came to an end you both ended up in your hotel room making the beast with two backs.

Of course your supervisor was less than happy when you called the next day to report that you learnt nothing. Orders to stay there till you did were made very clearly and you found yourself stuck in Hawkins trying to interview everyone that seemed to be connected to Will Byers and Barbra Holland.

Since that night with Jim though, he became increasingly distant, always making up excuses so you couldn't talk to him, always saying he had things to do.

He'd been dodging you for nearly a week when you discovered that the reason he was blowing you off constantly was because of Joyce Byers, you couldn't help but feel a twang of jealousy each and every time you heard her name, or saw her.

They were close, maybe closer than close. All you knew was that you and Hopper were now one and done. Especially while Joyce was around.

You began to become frustrated, all the time you found yourself stuck in this stupid town, wanting to go back home. Whenever you went into Melvald’s and Hopper was there talking to Joyce you became increasingly irritated and eventually started to ignore them. Throwing down your stuff, paying for it without a word and leaving.

It had been about four times that you'd done this when Hopper finally had enough and came out after you.

“Don't you think you're being a little childish?”

“Oh I'm being childish am I? Says the guy who has been avoiding me for nearly two months. I've been stuck here, which is your fault by the way!”

“How exactly is it my fault that you keep reaching dead ends?”

“Because you won't talk to me! I need to finish my damn interview with you, but you're acting as if I'm going to jump on you if we do!”

“I've been busy.”

“So I noticed Jim.”

There was a bitterness to your tone as you looked at him, unimpressed and unhappy.

“Tomorrow, I will be at your office first thing so I can get this shit over with and leave this Damn town!”

“Fine!”

You stared at each other for a moment before storming away in different directions. Joyce stood inside the shop smirking as she watched you two.

“What was that about?”

Bob asked, stepping inside and looking at Joyce.

“Young love.”

Everything over the last two months had brought you to this moment, standing outside his cabin. You'd walked into the office bright and early to find he wasn't coming in today. Anger and annoyance bubbled inside you. You stormed out, got in your car and drove to his place.

“Hopper!”

You'd wanted to be calm and collected, but the moment your knuckles touched the door you banged loudly and angrily.

“Open the damn door now!”

You yelled through the wooden door.

“I know you're in there, this isn't funny. Open up now!”

The door opened and you stormed inside, you didn't even bother to look at him.

“It's one thing keeping whatever happened here a secret. But keeping me here when you know I can't leave without some sort of report from you isn't fair!”

You turned to look at him, his nose was red, his eyes glassy, and he had some sort of ugly blanket wrapped around his body keeping his chest warm.

“Your sick.”

“That right there is why you're in the FBI, so smart.”

His voice was croaky and dripping with sarcasm, you couldn't help but find it hot even though he was very sick.

“Can you get out, I'll give you a report when I'm better.”

The door slammed practically in your face as he ushered you out, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you stood there.

You couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered every time you were near him, couldn't deny that you enjoyed his scent, or the way he made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Damn you Hopper.”

You left, only to come back armed with cold and flu medicines, vapor rub, soup, and a few other things to make him feel better. The look on his face had been a picture, shock and confusion as you pushed inside and placed down the cold and flu tabs. The Vapour rub, and everything else.

“Take those, I'll get you some soup.”

He stared for a minute or two, before he did as he was told. It had been a long time since Jim had been looked after when he was sick. Every single stubborn bone inside told him to tell you to go, but as he watched you he couldn't deny how badly he was enjoying watching you in his kitchen.

Placing down the soup as well as some fresh bread, you looked at him and smiled.

“You should eat up and then you should rest.”

There was an awkward air between the two of you as you stood there, he sat up and nodded only letting out a grunt before tucking into the soup.

“Feel better Jim.”

Picking up your bag, you headed toward the door.

“Stay.”

His word caught you off guard, you froze too scared to look at him. He was busy slurping soup and you couldn't help but think you had imagined it. Shaking your head, you carried on walking.

“I said stay.”

It was clearer that time, so much so. Your heart fluttered as you turned to look at him.

“Why?”

Hopper took a breath, getting up he hunted around and found a piece of paper.

“Because I like you, and I don't want you to leave Hawkins.”

Walking over you took the piece of paper, you looked at the scribbled messages of him trying to explain how he felt and smiled.

“Joyce has been helping me to try and figure out how to tell you.”

“It's been two months, Hop.”

“I know, I'm a coward.” He said softly as he looked at you.

“You should eat your soup.”

“You should respond to my question.”

“It was more of a demand, Jim. Besides it took you two months to tell me, I'm sure I at least get till you finish your soup.”

Hopper smiled and sat back down, he looked at you and patted the chair beside him. You couldn't help but smile and dropped your bag on the floor and walked over to sit down.

Once he'd finished his soup, he fell asleep. You kept yourself busy until he woke up and told you he was feeling better. But that didn't mean he got out of bed, simply that you joined him.

#Jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #gn reader x Jim hopper #Jim hopper x gn reader #Jim hopper drabble #Jim hopper one shot #Jim hopper imagine #Stranger things fanfic #hopper x reader

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bookshelf-dust · 2 years ago

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healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 2 years ago

Text

COSMIC - S2:E6; Chapter Six, The Spy - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

will's connection to a shadowy evil grows stronger, but no one's quite sure how to stop it. elsewhere, steve and dustin forge an unlikely bond.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The cubes of meat hit the wooden boards with a wet slap. Traveling along the abandoned tracks is Dustin and Steve, each carrying a bucket of butchered meat; their bait.

"All right, so let me get this straight," Steve sighs, looking at the boy just paces ahead of him. "You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?"

Dustin rolls his eyes, sighing irritably as he throws more bait on the track.

"All right, that's grossly oversimplifying things."

Steve shakes his head.

"I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?"

"An interdimensional slug?" Dustin smirks. "Because it's awesome."

Steve picked up his pace, making his way to Dustin's side.

"Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I... I just..." he shrugs, his lips forming a tight-lipped smile. "I don't know. I just feel like you're trying way too hard."

"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?"

"It's not about the hair, man," Steve says, shrugging once more as he lazily kicks a stray pinecone from his path. "The key to girls is just... just acting like you don't care."

Dustin looks at him curiously, not expecting the insight.

"Even if you do?"

Steve nods. "Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts."

"Then what?"

"You just wait until, uh..." he pauses to throw another chuckle of bait behind him. "until you feel it."

"Feel what?"

"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know? You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?"

A spark of recognition flickers across Dustin's face, and he nods eagerly.

"Oh, like the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere--"

Steve shakes his head, an unimpressed look on his face. His head flicks to the side, sweeping away a stray lock of hair tickling his forehead.

"No, no, no, no, no. Like a... Like a sexual electricity."

A look of surprise crosses Dustin's face.

"Oh,"

The longer the day stretched on, the more Steve is bewildered at the ever-changing events he could never have foreseen. Nevertheless, he gestures to Dustin as he continues.

"You feel that and then you make your move."

There is a brief pause before Dustin asks simply.

"So that's when you kiss her?"

Steve's eyes widen, and he can't decide whether he should roll his eyes or laugh.

"No, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Romeo."

"Sorry." He mumbles.

"Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to he aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a..." He shrugs once more, looking back at the boy who had begun to lag shyly behind. "I don't know, like a lion."

Dustin hums thoughtfully, his gloved hand reaching inside the white steel bucket as he listens.

"But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a..."

His mind travels back in time for the briefest of moments, his heart warming at the memory of sneaking innocent moments with Nancy Wheeler. He finds himself smiling.

"Like a ninja."

"What type is Nancy?" Dustin asks, as if reading his thoughts.

And just like that, his smile falters.

"Nancy's different. She's different than the other girls."

"Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."

"But this girl's special, too, you know. It's just, like, something about her."

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, hey, hey" Steve says, stopping them in their tracks and he turns to face Dustin.

"What?"

Steve studies the boy's body language, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You're not falling in love with this girl, are you?"

It is clear to Steve that Dustin has grown shocked and slightly uncomfortable.

"Uh, no. No."

His suspicious stare lingers, but he continues them down the tracks.

"Okay, good. Don't."

"I won't."

His attention returns to the tracks and laying the bait, but his thoughts continue to spill from his lips.

"She's only going to break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit."

A thick silence settles between the duo once more, a common theme so far. His thoughts now louder than ever, amplified in the silent autumn air and Steve feels his pity for the boy growing. The kid's got heart, he can tell, and despite his better judgment, Steve feels a soft spot growing for him.

"Fabergé."

It's Dustin's turn to give a quizzical look, his brow quickly quirks.

"What?"

Steve gestures to his full head of hair, failing to meet Dustin's eye.

"It's Faberegé Organics. Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair's damp... It's not wet, okay? When's its damp..."

"-Damp."

"You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray."

Steve doesn't have to see the look on Dustin's face to know the kid is grinning madly. He can hear the smirk in his voice as Dustin clearly attenps to hold back a snicker. Already, Steve is beginning to regret his decision.

"Farrah Fawcett spray?"

"Yeah, Farrah Fawcet." Steve halts once more, making sure he towers over the boy as he jabs a finger in his face. "You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You're dead, Henderson. Do you understand?"

Dustin nods, suppressing his smile as he avoids Steve's gaze.

"Yup."

A new silence blankets the air, with it a new sense of commonality, and understanding. It's comfortable. Another smirk tugs at Dustin's lips as they continue their journey, laying slabs of meat.

"Farrah Fawcett, really?"

Steve shrugs.

"I mean, she's hot."

The tension melts away in the wake of their forming bonds of friendship, they share a smile and an occasional nod. They are each surprised by the unexpected comfort each other's company brought. Unbeknownst to the pair, the farther they ventured, the closer they got to the decaying tunnels beneath their feet. And to their right, a bright yellow flag planted in the dirt, a marking made earlier by Hopper and his team that signaled rotting earth and decay.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Hopper's fingers release the button as he lets out a defeated sigh.

The moment Hopper sensed a lull-a rarity nowadays meant to be coveted-he had quietly excused himself outside. Seeing the poor kid go through what he was going through had brought out old instincts. More accurately, it was another opportunity to stretch these protective muscles he hadn't used regularly in years. It was easy to see El had been the first to bring it back out in him. Will only fueled it.

He sits now in his truck, radio in hand as he begins the transmission he hopes will reach her. First, beeping the secret code to El, letting her know it was him before beginning. But his shoulders sag, discarding that idea completely. Hopper knows what he has to say needs to be spoken aloud, not translated. Guilt has been a heavy weight on his shoulders since their fight, his inability to mend their mistakes and all the things left unsaid. His time in the tunnels crosses his mind, and how fearful he was when he believed he wouldn't make it home to her.

Hopper quickly realized it wasn't death that scared him. Of course, it was frightening, but what really bothered him-scared him-is what would happen to her if he never saw her again. Not only the way they had left things but what would become of her? How would she stay safe and who could truly know to take care of her, nurture her? The last thing he wanted was to leave her on her own, and he certainly didn't want to risk going inside and dealing with the problem at hand, without talking to her.

Or at least letting her know he was sorry.

So here he sat, his body hunched forward as he lay against the wheel, the radio grasped tightly in his hand. His voice shakey and his heart breaking. Hopper took another deep breath and let the words spill out.

"Hey, it's, uh... It's me. I know that I've been gone too long, and uh... It's-- I just, I want you to know that it's not about you and it's not about our fight. Okay?"

His garbled voice rings out in the empty cabin, no one around to hear him but the several boxes strewn around the room.

"Something came up, and I will... I will explain it all when I see you. I just... I just want you to know that I'm not mad."

His grip on the radio and his own hand grows tighter, he clutches it tightly like a lifeline. He can no longer fight the tears that threaten to spill, and his eyes go red and puffy.

"I'm just sorry. About everything."

The hot tears sting his eyes, he has to stop to collect himself as best he can but it is almost no use at all. His heart lurches, but for the first time in a long time, it is alive. He wishes with all his might that he can be there with her, comfort her. But he knows he can't. He continues to battle the enormous lump in his throat but it's winning.

"I don't want you to get hurt at all. And I don't want to lose you."

He chokes on his tears, but he feels the soft rumble deep within his chest where a weak chuckle forms. Hopper sniffles and speaks once more into the machine, unable and unwilling to fight those parental instincts kicking in again.

"Just make sure you heat up some real food. Not just Eggos. And I want you to eat all the peas, even if they're mushy and gross. And..."

He sighs, knowing more than anything he intends to, and will, keep his next promise. Jim Hopper would move mountains to keep it, and has every intention of showing her-and himself-that he will be there for her.

"I will be home soon."

The monitor clicks off and the car-and the empty cabin-go silent.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"This is him last week."

The photo on the projector slides into place and shifts into focus. A map of Will's brain, for the most part normal, but sprinkled across the grayscale map is several flurries of activity. Patches of red.

"And there are the hippocampal abnormalities we had discussed. Nothing out of line with what we've seen from others suffering from post-traumatic. But..."

The medical team is gathered in one of several conference rooms as one member of the staff tasked to the Byers case reviews with the team, including Dr. Sam Owens. The man sighs in worry, his elbow is propped up on the wooden conference table and he massages his temples worriedly as the slide changes. It's another map of Will's brain, but there is an extra flurry of activity that frightens them all.

"this is Will from last night. And as you can see, there are now abnormalities Im the limbic and paralimbic areas. And this..."

The man grows increasingly unsettled, and with great reluctance he advances the slide. Aside from a few select spots on the brain, the picture is enveloped in red. The Brian is drowning in the virus. There is more red than black.

"is from an hour ago."

Not a soul in the room remains still, every lab coat shuffles uncomfortably. And suddenly the papers in their hands have become overwhelming captivating. Attempting to hide his own discomfort, Owens turns to his team and gestures around the table.

"I don't hear any suggestions."

A colleague of his looks up from his papers, though his fingers still nervously fiddle with the edges of the files.

"We have bigger problems than the boy."

"Do we?" The man snaps.

"We can't keep delaying the burn." Another adds.

Agitated, Owens leans forward, his palm smacking the table.

"You're talking about putting... putting a Band-Aid on this." He stutters.

The first man speaks up.

"Right now, a Band-Aid is the best option."

"It's our only option."

Owens looks around the room aghast at his colleagues. They merely stared back, silently taking a stance.

"And if it kills the boy?" Owens spits.

"Then quite frankly, Sam, it kills him."

Owens stills in anger and disgust before jabbing a finger in the man's direction. "Say that to me again." He threatens.

The doctor that stands by the projector reluctantly speaks up.

"The rate this is spreading, he'll be lost by the end of the day. What we do or don't do won't change the outcome."

"We have to start the burn." The other states.

Owens takes one last look at his team, his eyes hold nothing but disgust. Huffing, he grabs his things from the table and jumps to his feet and storms for the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to think." He spits.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What the hell is taking so long?" Joyce sighs.

She and Bob sit side by side to the right of Will's bedside. Her leg bounces up and down at an almost unnatural rate and she nervously wrings her hands.

"Hey," Bob assures. "doctors take forever, always. Just try and relax. Just be patient."

He reaches forward, briefly rubbing her knee in an attempt to soothe her nerves however he can. Taking his words to heart, Joyce takes a lingering breath and she tries to calm the storm of nerves in her stomach. But with every passing second, her nerves return. With every beep of the monitor is a harsh reminder than another second has passed. Another second her boy goes unhelped.

Finally, she sighs as she shrugs the blanket off her shoulders.

"You know, I just..."

She slips through the door and marches to the end of the hall. The two guards stationed in front of the closed double doors tense as she approaches with no intention of stopping.

"Let me through. Let me through!" She orders, struggling against their arms.

"You know we can't do that."

"I need to talk to--"

"--He'll be with you shortly."

"You said that an hour ago!"

Bob soon joins her side and attempts to calm her, and across the hall staring through the door is Will. He lays perfectly still on the bed, and the heart monitor starts to race beside him. With every beep of the monitor, his vision fluctuates. He is seeing but not with his own eyes, he is a passenger in his own body and yet all he can focus on is the gun holstered in the guard's belt.

《•••》

The figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end.

《•••》

Anger. That's all he can feel.

《•••》

The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

Will convulsed uncontrollably, his limbs on fire, spreading as rapidly as the flames in the hub below.

《•••》

Will.

《•••》

He saw the visions. Like he was navigating the dark and cold tunnels, they never stopped moving and he knew they were out to kill.

•••

Will was panting heavily, but he slowly turned around coming face to face with the monster. It towered over the school, looking directly at Will.

《•••》

"Will?"

A warm hand touches his arm and he falls back to earth. The spike in his heart echoes in the room with the speedy beeps of the heart monitor giving him away. He hadn't registered that Mike had been speaking to him. Will looks to the boy who is watching him, concerned.

"What's wrong? Are you hurting again?" Mike asks.

"Uh..."

Will tries desperately to speak but the things he wants to say don't come. Instead, he feels the undeniable urge to sit up. He does so, and more words come to his brain but they are not what he truly wants to say. There is a wild, demanding itch in his brain that he must extinguish.

"I saw something."

The itch subsides.

Unsuspecting, Mike listens intently with worry.

"In your now-memories?"

Against his better judgment-the small, dying voice in the corner of his brain that grows small and smaller yet-he continues to scratch the itch and he nods and leans closer.

"The shadow monster." He whispers. "I think I know how to stop him."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The sun has reached it's highest point when Dustin arrives at the familiar landscape of the old scrapyard, Steve by his side. He wears a proud grin as Steve gazes across the yard, nodding in agreement.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, this will do." Steve begins his descend down the small hill, shedding his sunglasses. "This will do just fine. Good call, dude."

Dustin's grin widens significantly, his chest welling in pride before he falls in line with Steve. The two continue to sprinkle their bait trail behind them to the center of the yard. They dump the remanents of meat in a pile when they hear an approaching voice call out to them from the hill.

"I said medium-well!"

Dustin is relieved to see Lucas, he is beaming down at them as he sends them a wave. But his stomach plummets when he sees Max standing at his side.

The two begin their descent down the hill and Steve wonders aloud. "Who's that?"

He looks to Dustin when the boy doesn't answer, spotting the concerned and disbelieving glance he wears at the redhead. Suddenly, his mind clicks.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You told her?" Dustin hisses.

Lucas and Dustin are huddled behind one of several abandoned vehicles exchanging hushed words. After proper introductions, Max and Steve have set to work and begun to build their base.

"So what?" Lucas says.

"'So what?'" Dustin laughs dryly.

"You wanted to tell her, too."

"But I didn't, all right? You know why?"

"You're chicken?" Lucas retorts.

Dustin rolls his eyes at Lucas's weak jab, and his anger only grows.

"Because not only does that put us-and Max for that matter-in danger, but Y/n especially! You know, that sibling of mine, the escaped experiment that the government lab could snatch up on any old whim? That Y/n?"

"They agreed to leave Y/n alone, remember?"

"Like their word means shit! They faked Will's death to cover their own asses for shit's sake. They don't exactly strike me as the caring, honorable type. Who's to say they won't ever change their minds and decide they want Y/n back!"

Lucas shrinks back, regret flashing across his face as he takes in his words. He sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry about that, alright? I didn't think about it like that, but it's already done. And for what it's worth, I don't think she's gonna tell anyone."

"You don't know she won't tell, we just met her! What if she slips up? What if she's cornered and the information is forced out of her?"

It's Lucas's turn to roll his eyes, and he scoffs.

"Dude, you're spiraling. None of that's gonna happen."

Dustin sighs and shrugs his shoulders apathetically.

"Maybe I am and maybe it won't. The point is, we all agreed not to tell her and to look for Dart."

"Who you conveniently found."

"Are you suggesting that I'm lying?"

"I'm saying you have a creepy little bond with him."

"Yeah, that was before he turned into a Demogorgan."

"And you haven't heard from Y/n?"

Dustin's face scrunches up in anger at Lucas's mention of his sibling.

"No."

"Or Mike?"

"No."

"Will?"

"No."

"Hopper?"

"No! No one is around. Why do you think I'm with Steve Harrington? Something's-"

"Wrong." Lucas finishes, sighing. "I agree. Which is why need as much help as we can get."

They both hear a soft grunt from across the yard and they rise to their feet and peek through the vacant window of the car. Max is piling several sheets of metal against the bus closing off weak spots underneath.

"She didn't believe me, anyway." Lucas says.

A small smirk forms on Dustin's face.

"You probably didn't tell it right."

They share a weak laugh and rise to face each other and Lucas extends his hand.

"So, we good?"

Dustin's eyes fall to his friend's hand and he smiles weakly.

"Hey!" A loud crash behind Dustin startles them and they turn to find Steve glaring at them."Dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl? We lose light in fourth minutes. Let's go."

They only stare at him as he retreats to the bus, reluctantly following. Steve gestures for them to move, his voice increasingly rising in anger.

"Let's go, I said!"

They pick up speed and each grumble a response.

"Alright, asshole!" Dustin snaps with a whine. "God!"

"Okay! Stupid."

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