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madelynraemunson · 1 year ago

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

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

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

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

Chapter 002: Wing Man

You start your first night of work. Eddie requests a private show. But not for him; for his friend — a rich and lonely bachelor who can’t seem to get over his ex.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

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

word count: 7.2k words

NSFW — lap dance, steve creaming his pants, abusive relationships, talks of trauma, steve and reader trauma dumping lol

pairing: lonely bachelor!steve x fem!exoticdancer!hargrove! reader (and lowkey eddie)

author’s note: yes we get with steve before we get with eddie, but we will get there okay??? 🫣🫣🫦 also don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t homie hop in hawkins because these men are SO FINE

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

“Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance. Take you down another level, and get you dancing with the Devil” -Wicked Games by The Weeknd

♡

A sultry black set.

A hot pink set with bows. Caribbean blue. Army green for the military men. Some cuffs. Personal wet wipes. Sanitizer. And lastly, a stethoscope to play the part.

“I can’t believe you accepted a caregiving job,” Max scoffs as you both make your way out of Scrubs 4 Less. “Do you even have healthcare experience?”

Your stepsister loved to mask her prying with carefully crafted screening questions. Even if they sounded pessimistic.

“Sure I do,” you shrug. “Remember that summer I cared for Great-Aunt Dotty when she had Parkinson’s? Figured maybe it’d be similar.”

“I guess.”

You take it upon yourself to remind Max that you are certified in CPR. And with that cert, you saved numerous people from drowning as a lifeguard. Of course that was for one year during high school, but it was experience nonetheless.

"Well, what about the heavy lifting?"

"Easy. All in the legs." you pat your thighs. Despite being calm on the outside, you are getting nervous now. About everything.

"Takes a lot of core strength too. And upper body."

It's like she knows what you actually will be going to be doing. However, there are parallels between both professions, and you made sure you made a choice like that so you wouldn't have to lie as much about the physicality of things.

"You seemed to have gotten the job pretty fast,” Max notes.

"Nursing homes are really short staffed. Especially with the pandemic and everyone leaving from all the burnout, they’ll take anybody who qualifies."

"Did they even determine if you do?"

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of people?”

You know you’re being manipulative. You can spot a manipulator from a mile away. But this little white lie is for you and Max’s own good. Even if it means selling her a fake story. Even if it means lying. Living a double life.

“An abusive home life and all-timers isn’t comparable.”

“Have you considered that some people with Alzheimer’s are combative as well?”

“And you had to accept the graveyard shift?” she pries further, ignoring all your valid points.

“It pays more,” you answer sharply, readily. “Two dollar shift differential.”

“Oh my god, we’re practically millionaires.”

The sudden change in Max's behavior is really catching you off guard. She was optimistic on her birthday. A little withdrawn when the weekend was approaching. Now the pain is evident it is almost unbearable. Sure, Billy isn't a problem anymore, but with all of his chaos, Max has found solace in using her hobbies as coping mechanisms. Her body needs that adrenaline, and now you have cut off access to all of it.

Max can't go surf. She can't run around freely just yet because she doesn't know good routes and trails. She doesn't have friends in the area besides you, Robin, and Vicky. She misses Donovan.

Max is hurt. You know she is, but you don't blame her. Still, you’ve had it.

“Hey.” you snap.

Max halts. She knows she went too far.

“I know it's sucky... the situation we're in right now," you sigh. "But I'm doing this for us, remember? It’s temporary. We just need a soft place to land, and this is paving the way towards that.”

At least that’s something you didn’t have to lie about: It’s a sacrifice you were making for her.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

Orientation day comes in a blink of an eye.

Eddie is giving you a tour of Hellfire while discussing how his particular ‘system’ works. You’ve got to give him credit. His system makes sense.

“I don’t ask my girls to pay to dance here,” he explains. “I just think that’s bogus. Also, it’s Hawkins. Not that many competitors, so if I let you dance here, you’re automatically staff.”

You two walk down the hall. Eddie shows you where you would clock in and out, promising you your punch-in code by the end of the week. You learn that everyone gets paid out every Friday, because in Eddie’s words, “fuck that biweekly shit”. Tips go home with you every night, but you are expected to help tip out staff members patrons don’t really see or interact with. Therefore: Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy whose House Mom, Henry, and Argyle. The boys make their money from bussing and serving. Jonathan earns tips from POTIONS.

“I figured as much.”

You graze your hand along the kukris on the wall as Eddie talks. He stops to take note of it and gives you a boastful smile.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

“That’s the perk of owning your own business,” Eddie says exuding a lazy stretch to graze the kukris himself. “You choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes.”

He ponders for a while longer.

“Most of the time at least.”

Clearly a majority of the money also went to the chicken wings.

Eddie leads you to back of the house where he then proudly showcases his wing menu to you. There’s the Hawkins Hot Chick for Nashville inspired hot chicken. Chicken Strippers for the picky eaters. And the ‘Hot As Cluck’ buffalo wings with spice scales named after Metallica songs: Fuel (mild), Fight Fire with Fire (medium), Creeping Death (hot), and The Unforgiven (Extremely hot). All are served with one’s choice of carrots and celery or crinkle cut fries on the side.

“Crinkle cut fries are the best kind of fries,” Eddie states. “Ain’t that right, chef?”

“Ay ay!”

One chef. For the entire back of the house. Though that seems like the textbook definition of a staff shortage, the friendly Latino man with long, black hair that he concealed with a hairnet and baseball cap most likely had it covered. He flashes you a kind grin with kind, hooded eyes to match, quite possibly revealing to you that he’s likely stoned out of his mind. But if it helps him through the shift…

“Argyle’s the man,” Eddie explains. “Pitched the chicken wing idea to me when we were both blasted.”

Suspicions confirmed.

“Is it just Argyle?” you inquire waving hello to him.

“Sometimes Eds helps out back here too,” Argyle answers for him. “Like when we’re really fucking shlammed, he’ll come back here and help cook.”

Argyle turns to you. You smile at him.

“But most of the time I got it,” he says. “That man’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, Argyle’s a beast,” Eddie confirms. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

While Eddie tidies up back of the house, you and Argyle converse with one another. He’s 28, produces music on the side, and learned how to cook from his mom at the age of three. California native as well. By observing the mini station he has set up, you notice that Argyle keeps a stash of Yerba Mate with him at all times, and some bud in his mini gym bag. You also learn that he and Eddie often take breaks together, hot boxing one another’s vans as if it were some sort of competition. But, as Argyle had mentioned, with how much Eddie currently has on his plate, those joint breaks (no pun intended) have been pushed to the backburner.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hargrove,” Argyle concludes. “Excited to have you on our team.”

“Likewise!” you shake his hand with a smile. “Looking forward to bugging you for chicken wings.”

“You bug me all you want, mamas,” he insists. “I’ll make you allll the chicken wings in the world.”

“You a flats girl or a drumstick girl?” Eddie questions.

“Flats,” you respond instantly.

You receive a distraught gasp from the cook while Eddie cackles.

“Atta girl,” Eddie smirks patting your back. “I knew I liked you.”

“BLAS.PHE.MY!” Argyle screams. “Drumsticks are where it’s at bro.”

The three of you argue back and forth about chicken for the next couple of minutes, Eddie sticking beside you through and through. Though play-fighting with your new coworkers seems meniscal in the grand scheme of things, you reveled in it. It’s the first time in a while you felt a sense of community outside your sister. You wanted to savor it, especially since you know that this is temporary.

“You’re a red flag, Hargrove,” Argyle jokes, clutching his chest. “You were perfect in my eyes until you said you were a flats girl.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s mine and not yours,” Eddie jeers.

Your heart flutters. Eddie and chicken wings. You’ve GOT to be in heaven.

“Alright, word,” Argyle calls after Eddie as he pulls you away from the kitchen. “Word. I’m still gonna spoil her with food like she’s mine though.”

“He’s such a flirt,” Eddie says to you once you’re both out of earshot. “Endearing and endangering at the same time.”

“All in good nature right?”

“‘Course!” he exclaims. “We’re all about respecting women at Hellfire. Everything’s lighthearted banter.”

And you’ll revel in that too. Especially since ‘respect’ and ‘lighthearted banter’ weren’t things you were able to experience at home.

“Also!” Eddie adds. “Respectfully… Wear something simple but classy on Friday.”

“Ooh,” you chime. “Simple and classy?”

“Yeah, I’m talking neutral tones. Red lipstick also preferred but you can do whatever you want. I’ve got something I need you to do for me on your very first day.”

I’ll do anything for you, Eddie. Your intrusive thoughts are starting to take over.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

It’s Friday night now and everyone is in their respective stations preparing for the rush. Argyle is prepping the fryer while Chrissy flirts with him for nachos. She waves at you with her fingers and gestures that you can have some too. You smile and mouth a, “thank you” to her.

You really like Chrissy. Of all the dancers you’ve seen so far, she is the most memorable. She is charming and sweet, soft but firm with her boundaries. She has regulars lining up for her daily, all with different types of quirks and interests. But Chrissy somehow fits all of their molds, just by how fast she can switch from doe to siren depending on her audience. You want to be just like her.

You and Eddie stop by the kitchen before heading off to finish orientation. There are chicken wings — flats only, of course — on the line waiting for you with a note scribbled on the back of an old ticket order.

“Shy Girl<3”

“Eat up, mamas,” Argyle encourages you. “Gonna need the energy for tonight.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy cheers. “It’s Fridaaay!”

You thank them before heading out with Eddie once again. Eddie steals a flat from you and flashes a thumbs up to the cook before you two leave.

“Mm,” he approves. “Fight Fire with Fire Buffalo.”

You are just about done with wrapping up orientation training and ready to start the first night on your own. That is until Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother and bus boy, comes along and interrupts Eddie’s train of thought. You walk with Eddie in silence, munching on your food while Mike relentlessly hounds him about bringing his girlfriend into the club. She is 18 but Eddie is refusing.

“But but-” Mike stammers. “The club is already eighteen plu-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupts. “This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.”

“Well I’m 19 and you let me work here. Why does it matter if she’s 18?”

“Because you’re a dude, Wheeler,” Eddie hisses in return. “It’s different for the ladies.”

Not willing to risk any liabilities, he leaves Mike with just that. You follow Eddie, fiddling nervously with your hands as you watch him tsk and shake his head in disapproval.

“I can’t have teenage girls in here,” Eddie mutters. “That’s just blatantly obvious right? Or have I lost it?”

“No, right. Totally!” you agree.

Eddie has another rule. No strippers under the age of 20. Anyone under, including ages of 18 and 19 are children to him. He admits that he gets squeamish when guys bring their younger looking girlfriends into the club. You assume it pertained to his colleague’s girlfriends too.

You walk past the bar with Eddie, waving hi to Jonathan as you did so. Dustin is at the bar as well but is too busy to say hello. You manage to glance over and watch him fix his hair, trying to look his absolute best while FaceTiming his Mormon e-girl from Utah, Suzie. After eavesdropping for the past couple of days, you pick up that she insists on video chatting with Dustin every time he is at Hellfire to ensure his fidelity. Suzie wanted to be his “only wifey” to which ‘Dusty Bun’ assures her that she is.

“Uh oh,” comes a voice ever so soft it sounds eerie when it echoes through the club. “Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

Slithering into your periphery is the same tall, lean guy that you ran into earlier last week. Today he's sporting a white tank top that revealed a couple small tattoos scattered around his body, black pants that were tight enough to be yours, a loose wallet chain belt, and chunky work docs. His gorgeous blonde hair looks attainably messy by what you suspect is mousse. He smells of beer and cigarettes tonight, his tired eyes a precursor to his lust-filled gaze. A poster boy for all the men you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents is none other than,

“Henry Creel,” Eddie says. “Mike’s just picking a bone with me. Have you met Hargrove? She’s our newest dancer.”

It’s seemingly Henry’s first day back. From the first day of orientation to now, you’ve only had run-ins with Jim, the older gentleman who is also a bouncer. Jim spent years with the Hawkins PD, but after a scandal that only Eddie and his peers seem to know about, Jim found a home protecting young women at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. The only place that gave him a chance.

You like Jim. You like everyone here. You are also ecstatic to see Henry again, this time as a dancer. You can see the excitement blooming in his eyes, with a steady increase in his pupil size by the second.

“Well, well,” Henry smirks. “Look who decided to join us.”

You two shake hands again.

“Henry’s my other bouncer,” Eddie explains, but you already knew that. “He’s my right hand man. He’s tiny but mighty. Could snap bones in an instant.”

You peer over at Henry with shocked eyes, to which Henry acknowledges with a dramatic bow.

“You’ll see it,” Eddie hovers a hand over your back. “I sure hope not anytime soon, but there’s always that one douchebag.”

“And they always underestimate me too,” Henry says. “I get a nice kick out of it. It’s a win-win.”

Henry is certainly not beefy, but judging by his muscle tone and sharp upright demeanor, he can put up a fight. Dude seems like he does a lot of the dirty work for Eddie. He can get away with it too.

After bidding ‘see you later’ to Henry, you continue walking with Eddie.

“So,” he starts. “Did you put together a cute simple outfit for tonight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Good,” Eddie says. “I can tell it’s gonna look amazing. I dig the red lipstick and the choker.”

Eddie wanted classy so you gave him classy. Underneath the cloak, you are sporting a lacy black set with a matching black choker and classic red lipstick. Your hair is straightened tonight since beach waves are your signature.

“You want a sneak peak?” you smirk.

Eddie quirks up. “Oh man, do I? Let me at it.”

You take off your cloak to reveal what you have underneath.

Eddie stops in his tracks, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze is both soft, yet lout. Delicate in the brows, yet carnivorous in the eyes. Slowly, his jaw lowers, uttering a silent gasp as he fully processes the sight of the vixen — you — in front of him.

“Jeez…” he strains. “You look…”

You blush. Electricity whirls through you as Eddie continues to relish in your beauty.

“Showstopping,” Eddie finishes.

He reaches his arms out and you take them, letting yourself fall into his chest as he pulls you to him. During the embrace, he sets his lips beside your cheek, brushing against them delicately as he gives you a verbal kiss.

“Mwah!” he exclaims, leaving you longing for a stronger peck. You feel like you’re on a cloud when he spins you to get a full 360 of your look. “I was expecting like a light color, or pastel…but black — black is your color.”

“Yeah?” you reply. “It’s not too edgy? Choker and all?”

“A lil rough around the edges won’t hurt,” the club owner approves. “He’s gonna love it.”

You follow closely behind. “He?”

Your first client. You had a feeling that’s what Eddie had planned for you today, but reality didn’t sit in until right now.

"Ever given a lap dance before?" Eddie inquires.

"Yeah, but not in this setting."

He seems amused with your answer. Eddie smirks as he gives you a nudge. "Perfect."

You two are walking down the corridor now, down to an isolated room at the end masked by a beaded curtain. You’re unsure if the goosebumps that form on your skin is because of the slight chilliness of the club or because you were walking into a seductive hideout with the boss you had the hots for.

You two stop just a yard short of the curtain. Eddie turns to face you.

"I've got a buddy named Steve. Not short for anything, his parents just... loved the 80s." he chuckles. “You’re giving him a private show tonight. One hour.”

Eddie’s buddy. The pressure is on. The name rings a bell, you believe Dustin was talking about him the first day you set foot in Hellfire.

“Oh,” you say. “I think I heard your friend Dustin talking about him last week.”

As if it were some inside joke, Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie mutters. “Don’t even get me started on those two.”

Eddie motions you forward, extending his arm to signal an “after you” gesture as you proceed into the private show room. The beads of the curtain carelessly clash into one another as Eddie saunters in.

"Anyway, Steve has been going through it lately. His lady left him for another dude, he lost his job because the city wanted another basic coffee shop instead of a place to rent cheesy B movies…and the last time he worked in the food industry he had to wear a sailor’s uniform, so he’s since opted out.”

You wander around what was going to be your office for the next hour as Eddie aimlessly takes his own path and furthers his lay-down.

“His folks want nothing to do with him because he doesn't wanna be nepotized by them. When he’s not working, he’s babysitting — you guessed it — Dustin and the rest of the boys when they’re not here or playing D&D with me. Oh yeah, and on the topic of girlfriend, he hasn't gotten laid in a fat minute.”

Eddie pauses.

"It's kinda depressing,” he says. “Now that I say it all out loud.”

He makes a sharp turn and walks toward the boombox he kept in the corner of the room.

"That is depressing," you mumble nonchalantly, as if you yourself had not been laid in a fat minute… contrary to your obnoxious brother’s popular belief.

“How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a fucking slut?” Billy’s voice haunts you.

You’ve only had one real boyfriend and Billy knew that. And that boyfriend, shortly after he left you for the girl he told you not to worry about, admitted that you were simply a placeholder for him. They’re happily married now and it tortures you knowing that being the first choice was never in the cards. Billy knew that too and used that backstory to fuel your insecurities. Billy knew you hated feeling used, yet brought it up every chance he got. Making his victims feel small, that was the source of his power. You shudder it off.

You watch as Eddie plays around with the boombox, ensuring that the aux chord was working along with all its other components.

"Tell you what," Eddie begins to barter. "You give him a good show, you can keep a hundred percent of your tips tonight. Consider it a sign on bonus."

“Wow, Eddie really?” you exclaim. “That…helps me out a lot. Thanks so much.

“Of course, doll,” Eddie grins. “Happy to help.”

Eddie finishes up tidying the room before walking back over to you.

“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he adds one last time. “You’re gonna knock his socks off.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you thank him one last time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He lingers for a while longer before going outside to look for Steve. Meanwhile, heart’s-a-fluttering you try to acquaint yourself with the place, choosing a seductive song of your liking before getting prepped.

Wicked Games by The Weeknd.

More ruckus sounds from outside of the show room. You assume your client has arrived.

“That’s the boy,” Eddie confirms. “BRB-right back.”

You excuse your boss as he makes his way over to his friend. While you wait, your mind begins to race. Does your outfit look okay? Does your breath smell? Do you smell? Despite all the wardrobe and wellness checks you’ve done, your mind is insistent that something else was off. To calm your nerves, you decide to take a quick gulp of Bombay Sapphire, a gin Eddie had provided for the room, before Steve walks in.

Liquid courage. May help with the performance too.

“There he is,” Eddie cheers as the two men greet each other outside. “What took you so long?”

“There was uh, traffic,” a softer voice responds.

“I call bull.”

The two talk a bit more, voices too quiet for you to make out what they’re saying. That, or the sound of your heart pounding against your chest drowned out their conversation. Steve sounds friendly. Timid, but friendly nonetheless.

You listen in on Eddie’s spiel about you. He called you stunning, explained that you just moved from California, and that you are exactly Steve’s type. Whatever that could possibly mean. You then hear Eddie go over the rules. No touching you without consent. No verbal or physical harassment. No sexual intercourse. And to tip generously.

“She sounds lovely. Thanks for the run down, Eds.”

“‘Course. She’s all yours, Big Boy.”

The beaded curtains clash once more.

In walks a man around Eddie’s age, late 20s, early 30s with sleek mahogany hair and slight puffy eyes. He’s sporting a gray North Face sleeveless jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and denim blue Levi’s. He’s a lot more preppy than you thought he would be. Steve’s reaction to you was similar to that of Eddie, despite how different they seem from each other.

“Hi,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you smile. “You’re Steve?”

He nods shyly. “You’re who they call Shy Girl?”

“That’s meee.”

It doesn’t take a body language analyst to see that Steve is guarded. It takes another fragile, sullen demeanor to know one.

“Are you one of Eddie’s shy friends?”

The comment earns a laugh from Steve. “You think I’m shy?”

“Just a little.”

He attempts to mask a gulp. “I’ve just never gotten a lap dance before.”

“You think I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stalk towards him and rest a hand on his chest when proximity and Steve himself grants you permission. You sink your palm in deeper when you pick up he’s receptive to it.

Oh yeah, that’s all gin.

“With your handsome self?”

Steve’s blushing now. “Yeah…strip clubs are kinda not my thing. They’re starting to be though, cuz I always come and support Eddie.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” you joke.

“Eddie and I do have a budding bromance,” he admits with a laugh.

“Boy I’d love to be in the middle of that,” you tease him honestly.

Steve is left stunned and speechless while you grab his hand and lead him to the futon in the middle of the room. He attempts to relax, exhaling the tension out of his shoulders and manspreading as he watches you encompass him. You walked in a slow circle around Steve as the music starts and he peers up at you with curious eyes. Alas, you stop in front of him, cupping his face softly in your hands and synchronizing your hip movements to the rhythm of the song.

Relate to your customers. Talk to them. Build a connection with them, you think to yourself.

“So how’s your day been?”

Steve cracks a faint smile. "Good, how's yours?"

"Good," you chime as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap.

Steve sharply inhales, sucking the tension he had just released right back into his body. You shake your head in disapproval and stroke his face calmly.

“No, no,” you coo. “Just sit back, relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m safe with you, huh?” he responds in an is-that-so kind of fashion. “You seem like pure danger to me.”

“Oh, please,” you snarkily disregard his comment. “I’m an angel.”

“In a place called Hellfire?” he challenges you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve wants to touch you. So bad. But he refrains. You feel it in his levitating palms, resting just inches away from the small of your back. You start to lightly ride his thigh, hoping to catch his palm in passing as you move your hips about. Instead you’re met with something hard at the base of his pants, an outline and protrusion that wasn’t there before.

Steve looks down and acknowledges it with a shrug.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "It has a mind of its own."

You laugh faintly in return. "It's okay. I'd say it's responding appropriately."

"Yeah?"

"Given the circumstances," you say as you grind slower, deeper. "Yeah."

"Well, that's a relief."

Steve is cute. And a polite man who values your consent was sure to receive it. You two lock gazes before one of you dared to speak again. It all feels like a blind date, and you’re two giddy young adults.

"You..." you start. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

"Really?" Steve asks. "Usually dancers don't let you do that."

"It depends who you ask," you smile. "Consent is subjective...and you have mine. C'mon."

He obliges and starts to graze your ass softly with his hands. You run his hands through his hair, then along his neck without lifting them. A muffled moan is slowly released from his mouth.

"Shit," he sputters. "Feels really good."

He tosses his head back.

"You make me feel so good."

"Aww," you grin. "Me?"

"Yeah you," his voice is deeper now. Huskier. "All because of you."

His hand moves upwards towards your bra and he begins to fiddle with the straps, and then the clasps. You continue your steady grinding, rolling your hips to the beat of the music, tossing your head back for the full effect while Steve holds back the urge to cup your perfect breasts in his kneady hands.

A whimper escapes Steve’s mouth when you find the sweet place to roll, resting a palm over his abdomen for leverage.

“Needy, are we?” you tease him. “Needy for me, Stevie?”

“So fucking needy,” he breathes, a nervous gulp swallowing another sneaky groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

I’ve got my heart right here, I’ve got my scars right here.

Suddenly, you cease the grinding, going from cowgirl to reverse. Grabbing a hold of both his knees with the back of both your hands, you sink down to the floor, knees bent, slightly out turned. Your hands move from his knees to encompass his elbows, accommodating the playful headlock he abruptly decided to have you in, watching you squat down beneath him.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

His arms creep from the sides of your face to the front of your face. You crane your head upwards, peering up at him and refrain from shivering when he brings an arm across your neck. His other hand rests on your face, stroking it tenderly.

“Get up here and, ride my thighs again, please.” he pleads. “It was feeling so good.”

“Okay,” you oblige before standing back up.

“Before you do though, let me get a good look at your ass.”

You stand there for him, bending down ever so slightly so he could run his hands across your back. He grabs a fist full of your hair gently with one hand and strokes your ass cheek with the other.

"Wow," Steve hums as he runs his fingers along the birth mark on your lower back. "I like this birthmark."

"Yeah?" you say. "Some people have said it looks like a tramp stamp."

"It's cute," Steve insists, pulling you onto his lap. “It kinda looks like a bat."

He points to where the wings would be and the fangs and you laugh. No one's admired your tramp stamp-esque birthmark the way Steve did.

"Thanks," you reply. "My brother has a matching one."

You pause.

"Sorry, that didn't sound all that sexy."

Steve tosses his head back and chuckles, hand resting firmly on your ass again. "You look sexy talking regardless, so I don’t mind.”

The chemistry between you and Steve feels so natural. You know if your nurturing heart felt like this with all clients you would be in big trouble. This profession isn’t for everyone and you realize that. But you decide to realize everything else later. Meanwhile, your focus right now is pleasing Steve.

You resume the thigh riding per his request, and chase your own subtle high as you did so. Steve whimpers and whines, seeming to long for you even more with every stroke of his hair, every brush against his cheek, every steady and calculated grind against his—

"Woah, are you okay?"

Suddenly you’re cut off by Steve abruptly pushing you off his lap. When you peer over at him, his face has gone completely red.

Did you do something wrong? Did you violate a boundary? Millions of thoughts race through your head. You can’t get fired on the first day of your new job…

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Steve stammers, flushing a deeper red hue with every word. “I... uh, kinda came in my pants."

"Oh..." you begin.

"I am so sorry," Steve sighs. "Embarrassed is an understatement. I’m such a loser.”

You two start frantically talking over each other, one extremely apologetic, another sympathetic to the concerns. Again, it’s like you two are clumsy young adults on a blind date set up by your bold friends.

"It's been a while... so..." Steve stammers.

"Steve," you stop him.

"And..." he cuts out.

"It's okay," you reassure him. “It’s okay, Steve. If you need a break, we can stop.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees with a resigned sigh, the red colored flush migrating to his ears. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You go to put your cloak back on again and strut towards the gin. Perhaps offering the man a drink would help loosen up his nerves.

"What should we do with the allotted time left?" Steve wonders eyes following you. He’s rubbing his knees anxiously with his palms. “Eddie has this room booked for an hour. He needs to think you're doing splits on my dick or something or else he won't be satisfied."

Laughter erupts from the deepest parts of your belly at Steve's comment. Steve can't help but laugh as well.

"Hm, we can wait a bit and I can give you another lap dance?” you suggest. “Or a strip tease?"

You weren't used to those words coming out of your mouth, so you attempted to make it sound as normal as possible. Wow, you really just gave a lap dance. And someone came from it.

"Do you think..." Steve inquires. "That we can just... talk?"

----

So you and Steve do exactly that. You talk about your families, and your aspirations, your deepest fears, and your core values. Steve Harrington isn’t the loser he thinks he is. He’s a really cool guy. But deeply misunderstood.

“So you and your brother have similar birthmarks?” Steve questions.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Except his is on his belly. We literally took the term identical twins to a whole new level.”

He laughs.

“Your brother sounds cool.”

“He was.”

Steve gasps in astonishment.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. Is he…”

“He’s not dead. Just an asshole.”

The color returns to his face. He exhales steadily and shakes his head. You find his reaction funny, despite how twisted that made you sound.

“Dead to you though?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle. “Dead to me.”

You two do a cheers to that with your alcohol-filled glasses and take another painful sip. It burns.

“Tell me about yourself now,” you prompt him.

There’s a dramatic pause.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I’m an only child. So eyes have been on me for as long as I can remember. What’s Stevie up to? This is what we expect of him and this is what happens if he’s not what we make him out to be. It didn’t take til young adulthood to realize that I have been living in my parents’ shadow. I don’t even know what I like.”

Steve spurs on about how he has struggled with his identity, going back and forth between if what he was pursuing was a desire of his or his parents’.

“And for a while I thought I knew who Steve was. Until I lost myself again in a girl named Nancy.”

“Aw,” you pout.

“A girl,” Steve pauses waiting for you to catch on. “Named Nancy.”

Your eyes widen. “House Mom Nancy?!”

Steve nods as you slowly piece things together.

“So Jonathan’s girlfriend is your…”

“Ex girlfriend,” Steve confirms. “Small world, huh?”

You suppose it wasn’t good that Hawkins is so small. You’d hate for someone to recognize you when you’re taking a casual stroll outside.

Nonetheless, you push that concern to the side and continue your conversation with Steve.

“What happened?”

“Some petty high school shit,” he explains. “But it’s always been her. She made me a better me. The closest to Steve that I’ve ever felt.”

“Wow,” you say. “So you saw a future with her?”

“Marriage, kids, everything,” Steve confirms. “Then she decided I wasn’t what — who — she wanted.”

It’s silent for a while. Steve shakes his head bitterly and downs the rest of his drink. You slosh yours around waiting for him to speak again. Besides, if you did, you’d end up ugly crying about your ex. And no one wants their stripper trauma dumping on them when they’re supposed to be performing.

Thankfully, Steve is the first to speak again.

“Yeah, Nance. She looks… she looks happy,” he turns to you with dismal eyes. “I don’t ever wanna get in the way of that.”

“Do you ever see her here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s in the back being House Mom, making sure all the girls are taken care of and all that. And I’m sure she doesn’t come up front because she knows Eddie has been trying to play wingman.”

You chuckle. “With a stripper?”

“With anyone,” Steve chuckles. “God that sounds awful. I sound like a loser.”

“Would you stop saying that?” you snap. “You are not a loser, Steve.”

“I know I’m not a loser. Just feel like it sometimes. Especially when it dawns on you that you’ve been living life for other people.”

“I kinda know how you feel.”

You two lock eyes again. Steve rests a hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers briefly before he begins playing with each of your fingers one by one.

"I guess…going back to the previous topic…” he proceeds. “If I could change anything about myself, I would've done more of what Steve wants to do. Not what Todd and Marsha want Steve to do. Or what Tommy H. and Carol want Steve to do. Because maybe then Nancy and I would’ve been endgame. Or maybe Allison. Possibly Tammy? Who knows? See? Everyone’s world but Steve’s.”

"Steve," you start. "I hope you realize that I have no idea who any of these people are. It’s kinda hard to keep up.”

"And that is such a relief to hear that," he sighs again, this time in exasperation. "I just feel so free talking about them to someone who doesn't know who they are. Hawkins is small, you know. And it’s good that the only bias you can form is in my favor since you only know of me."

You offer him a consoling pat atop the hand, to which he responds by leaning his head on your shoulder. With how tender everything has been with Steve, there’s a temptation to plant a delicate kiss on his forehead. But you stop yourself.

"I'd like to know you, know you, though,” you find yourself saying.

He gazes up at you. You two smile at each other.

“I’d like to know you more too, Shy Girl,” he answers. “If you’d let me.”

“Duh, it’s what I just said.”

He chuckles. “You’re not saying that for the tips?”

“No. Just human to human.”

You stroke his cheek longingly, running your hand along his stubble.

"It's also been a while since I've gotten laid too," you admit. "And I've got a lot of pent up stress I need to release. You seem like a trustworthy person to do that with.”

The energy changes. Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

"Oh yeah?" He rubs your thumb with his and soon you find yourselves holding hands.

"Yeah.”

“Sounds like we have a deal then, Shy Girl.”

Before Steve gets any ideas, you interrupt him.

“I don't wanna have sex at work," you admit. "Especially not on the clock."

"Oh, yeah I didn’t think it’d be now. Some people do find that hot though.”

"It's my first day. I can’t disappoint Eddie this early in the game.”

"You're kidding."

You shake your head.

"Wow, I would've thought you've been doing this a while."

You blush. "Thank you. But nope, you’re my Guinea pig.”

Steve continues to gawk in amazement. Then he reaches for his wallet, grabbing a huge wad of Benjamin Franklins and handing it to you.

"Tell you what," Steve bargains. "You buy yourself something nice, get your bills paid, and come through in a couple days. The roomie won't be home so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can get takeout or something too. Whatever makes you comfortable, of course.”

You bite your lip. "I'd like that."

“Good. I’d like that too.”

———-

"So, how was it?" you hear Eddie ask Steve.

"Dude...I just about creamed my pants," he says as you hold back laughter. "You got yourself a good one."

"Nothing's ever too TMI for you, Harrington," Eddie says. "But thanks for the imagery."

"Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home. It's been piling so much I think it's going to tip over."

“Roger,” Eddie says before bidding him goodbye. “Oh, speaking of which, did you tip her good?”

“You bet I did. Woman like her needs to be spoiled rotten.”

————

You make your way back to the dressing room after saying bye to Steve and finishing the flats Argyle had specially made for you. At your locker, you subtly attempt to count the hundreds Steve gave you for his lap dance and talk session. The man left you 10 of them. A whole band.

You were stunned. What did King Steve do for a living anyways? It didn’t matter to you. You had enough for groceries, gas, and a portion of your rent, all earned in an hour’s work, and all yours to keep as Eddie insisted.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat. You and your sister were good for the next few weeks.

Knock, knock.

“Don’t freak out ladies, it’s just me!” Eddie shouts from the other side of the door. “Put your cloaks on I’m coming in!”

You watch as the girls scurry to get their covers back on. The amount of respect Eddie has for his dancers is insane. Perhaps it’s common decency but it was such a striking difference than what you were used to. It warmed your heart in a way, but also made you sad. You deserved this respect all your life.

When Eddie finds you, he starts towards you, a look of approval spread wide across his face. As deeply as you wanted it to be because he found you attractive, you infer that it’s because you’re bringing in good business — and that you’re good, given a small amount of experience with the pole.

You two are face to face now. Eddie speaks up first.

“Steve, uh,” he says. “Steve really likes you.”

“Oh really?” you smile. “I’m glad.”

“You’re just a natural, Shy Girl,” he compliments you. “Everyone’s just raving about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far and what Stevie told me, yeah,” he confirms. “But I guess it’s no surprise. Shy girls are almost always the freakiest, huh?”

You try not to laugh while you’re witnessing the imagination of your boss running in the complete opposite direction of what really happened between you and Steve. Nevertheless, you let him. You didn’t mind taking up space in your dashing boss’s mind.

“You should come to work a little early next time you’re on,” Eddie says. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks. “Really?”

“‘Course! I do it with all my dancers as a welcome thing. I’d like to know more about you. You’re more than just a pretty face and someone who simply works for me.”

‘I do it with all my dancers.’

Your heart sinks. Back to square one.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m gonna head out now. Gonna go see the lady friend. I’ve got Johnny boy, Argyle, and Henry holding down the fort.”

The tinge in your heart intensifies.

“Oh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah, I rarely see her cuz she bartends. Even though we work similar hours we work opposite days. But she got first cut tonight so I’m heading over.”

“Have fun, Eddie.”

“I sure will,” Eddie says. “Goodnight, Shy Girl.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie soon disappears out of sight and now your shift seems ten times longer. Regardless, you stuff your tips into your tote bag and prepare to meander around the club, enticing other bachelors for a dance.

Without Eddie around, it seems less exciting.

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

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

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove

iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

#the babyboyification of steve harrington #daddy eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #Steve #steve harrington #Steve harrington smut #Steve and reader #Eddie and trader

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munsonfamilyband · 4 months ago

Text

In Everything But Blood (Pt. 2)

Finally, I have returned with part 2 of the random thing I came up with at 2 in the morning while finishing a 40 page paper.

TW medical descriptions (likely also inaccuracies), mentions of blood/bodily fluids, hospitals, mentions of parental abuse/neglect

~~~~~~~

The nurses assured them that Steve was doing better by the third day in the ICU.

It was hard to believe them when he was still being sedated and pumped full of as many antibiotics as they could give him. It was even harder when he looked so small in the sterile hospital bed. His skin was waxy and still had a pale yellow tinge to it, except for his cheeks that had remained flush and red since he had been found by Claudia in his room. His hair was limp and sweaty, which just broke her heart because she knew he would hate it.

Claudia had only left for brief periods of time when Jim was around, never wanting Steve to be alone, to not have a parent with him. (She recognized that this desire came both from her maternal instincts and from the conversation she had briefly had with Jim after he showed up the first day. She had asked if the Harringtons could, or even should, be contacted about Steve and Jim had just scoffed. Apparently he had tried to call Steve's parents in '84 when he had protected the kids from Billy Hargrove. Apparently all they did was say that Steve was being overdramatic and they would be home when they could. Apparently they didn't come home until well into the new year.) The first time she had to leave was to pick Dusty up from the Wheelers, the night Steve had been brought in.

When Dusty slid into the front seat of Jim's car he immediately turned to Claudia with a confused frown on his face. "Why are you driving Hopper's car?" He paused and looked at her appearance, taking in the now brown stains on the front of her sweater and around her cuticles, the smell of cleaner that he no doubt knows only clings to her when she has work. "Mom... what happened?"

Claudia took a shuddering breath in, leaning her head back against the headrest to steady herself before having to tell her Dusty news that will certainly break his heart. "You know I had lunch plans with Steve today, right?" She looked over at him, her heart in her throat as she saw the dawning realization on her son's face. He nodded slowly before she continued speaking. "He was supposed to come by around noon, but by 1 I hadn't heard from him and he hadn't shown up-"

"But that doesn't make sense, Steve is like, perpetually on time," Dustin cut in, his brow furrowed and clearly trying to deny what he knows the logical conclusion is.

"I know, sweety, that was my thought too. So I drove over to his house, and the porch light was off so I knew something wasn't right." She paused here to take another deep breath, blinking back tears. "He was in his room and... he was hurt, badly. I called an ambulance and he was taken to the hospital-"

"What?! Mom, why didn't you call- he can't- I need to see him-" Dustin's voice cracked with anguish, tears already welling up.

"Dusty, I know you want to see him, but, baby, he can't-"

"No! Mom, I have to- his parents aren't-" She interrupted his panicking and pulled him across the center console into a tight hug. He muffled his sobs into her chest, clinging to her sweater with white knuckled fists.

"I know they aren't, baby, but they also aren't his emergency contacts any more. He's in the ICU right now so only family can visit. Jim, Robin and I are all his emergency contacts so we're allowed to see him right now. And-!" She quickly spoke to prevent Dustin from interrupting again. "I know you're also family to him but he's in really bad shape right now, and you and I both know he wouldn't want you to see him like this. I'm going to be visiting him for a while so I'll bring you with me so you can see Eddie, and I can try to bring him something if you want him to have anything, but you can't visit yet." Dustin just sobbed harder into her chest, clinging to her in the same way he had when she found him after the mall burned down. "I know, Dusty, I know." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, holding him close as they both cried.

~~~~~~

After a week of constant antibiotics and sedation the doctor informed them that Steve was going to be moved out of the ICU and into a regular room. Claudia knew that he wasn't fully better yet but this was significant progress. It meant that Steve wasn't at constant risk and it also meant that he could have regular visitors.

He was being moved in the morning so Claudia and Robin were alone, sitting together in his room. Claudia was sitting in a chair with her knitting (that she snuck in, after thoroughly sterilizing it first of course) and Robin was sitting on Steve's bed with a wet cloth as she tried to clean some of the grease out of his hair. She had the same heartbroken look on her face that she had all week.

“Robin, honey, I know what you’re thinking…” Claudia made sure to speak softly. Robin was clearly hanging by a thread. “It’s not-“

“But it is my fault! I knew he was hurt and I just-I just went home. I left him alone and hurt and-“ Robin cut herself off to take a deep breath. “How could I forget that he was hurt?”

“Honey, you had all just been through a lot and you wanted to check on your parents, that's okay. As much as it frustrates me to say, Steve chose to not get seen.”

“Exactly! He insists he's fine but he never is! It’s my job to make sure he takes care of himself because otherwise he won’t.”

“I know you two are close, but sweetie, you don’t have to take care of him.”

“I do, because-because he’s my-my-… he’s mine. And I’m his, and we take care of each other. I can’t-…I don’t know what I would do without him. So I have to make sure he’s safe, just like he does for me….. And I failed him.”

Claudia had thought her heart couldn't break further, but that one statement proved her wrong. She set her knitting aside and hurried over to Robin's side, gently taking the cloth out of her hands before pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh, Robbie... I know, sweetie, I know. But he's doing better now, alright? Let's focus on that, we can't focus on how we got here."

~~~~~

When Claudia was finally told Steve could have regular visitors it felt like a weight lifting from her shoulders. Visitors was a good thing - a great thing, even - because it meant he was getting better. He was still sedated, though they were lowering his doses slowly, and his doctors said that he was taking to the skin grafts beautifully. Looking at him still made her throat close up in panic, but it was lasting less and less time every time she saw him.

Telling Dustin was... interesting. He was overjoyed but then deflated when she made sure he understood that they couldn't all visit at once and he still wasn't awake.

She shouldn't have been surprised that Dusty and his friends found a way to show Steve they cared without being able to all be there.

The first time she was able to bring Dustin to see Steve he had dragged a huge bag with him into the car, just saying it was for Steve when asked. She found out what that meant when he immediately opened it after entering Steve's room. Inside were gifts from all of his friends. There was a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one from Joyce's couch, a set of hair clips and a new brush, bottles of shampoo and conditioner (these were handed to Robin who cracked a smile for the first time in days). There were also cards and drawings and photographs. Dustin went around and started propping them all up wherever he could, even pulling out tape to put up some of the drawings.

Claudia immediately recognized Will's art style but the drawings themselves were odd. There was one of Steve holding a baseball bat, studded with what looked like nails, surrounded by cars. Another had Steve in the adorable work uniform he had the previous summer, standing next to Robin with a white board in her hands. One looked like Steve, with suspiciously familiar injuries, ripping apart some creature that looked like that weird alien from the movie. She wanted to ask but the way Robin laughed at the one she was in kept her from interrupting the moment. Robin needed to laugh more.

~~~~

The next few days were a rotation of children. The Sinclairs showed up together, rolling Max into the room in her wheelchair. The Byers stopped in one day, with the Wheelers showing up the next. Each visit was marked with cards and photos, everyone telling Steve some story to keep him informed.

Jim showed up most days, but one day he brought along his daughter.

Claudia knew of Jane, but had yet to meet her, since she had moved with the Byers while Jim was gone. She had been informed that Steve and Jane had been close before the move, so seeing the pure devastation on her face wasn't a surprise.

Claudia watched as Jane sniffled and then pulled a, frankly, offensively bright button down out of her bag and walked over to Robin with it. She whispered something in her ear that made Robin smile before gently taking the shirt from her hands. Robin started maneuvering Steve to place in under the back of his head with Jane's help and they both tied it around his head.

"Hi Steve, it's El- Ellie." She sniffed and wiped under her eyes quickly before continuing. "I know you're asleep right now but I wanted to help you keep your hair nice, like you showed me. So I brought Dad's shirt and Robin is helping tie it over your hair so it won't get so gross. I hope you like it. I miss you." She bent down once Robin had Steve fully settled and placed a kiss on his cheek before walking away, going right over to her dad and falling into his arms.

~~~~

The days continued like that, until Steve was fully off of the sedatives. After that it was a matter of waiting.

Robin still showed up every day she could, same with Jim. Claudia was there every second that she wasn't at home.

Robin had finally been forced to go home for a meal after Steve had passed his second full week in the hospital. The nurses said that he should wake up soon, but Claudia insisted that Robin needed to eat and get cleaned up.

Dusty and a few of his friends were just across the hall with his friend Eddie who had been awake for almost a week now. He was gaining his strength back and if Claudia strained to listen she could here his laughter from the hall.

She was sitting beside Steve's bed, knitting in the quiet when she heard the sheets shifting. Glancing up made her do a double take because Steve's face was all scrunched up. The same expression he had made the previous summer when he woke up with a concussion.

Claudia was out of her seat before she was consciously aware of moving, rushing to perch gently on Steve's bed and grab his hand.

"Steve, sweetie, you're okay." She was petting his hair back with the hand not gripping his and she watched his eyes squint open, just barely able to see hazel. He glanced slowly around the room, head lolling from side to side, before looking back at her.

"Mom..." His voice cracked from misuse, barely even audible but she heard it nonetheless, eyes immediately filling with tears.

"Yeah, sweetie, mom's here, I've got you." She bent down and hugged him to her, breath hitching when she felt one of his hands grip her sweater.

~~~~

Steve kept healing, awake this time, and he had a constant carousel of visitors.

Robin had started sobbing when she saw him awake, which just made him cry too. She had climbed into his bed and they had clung to each other for hours. Dustin had nearly collapsed when he walked in, not paying attention to Steve, and heard Steve speak. El had frozen in place before silent tears started to fall and she ran to hug him. The other kids had similar responses, even Jim teared up when he saw Steve awake. (And, if Claudia had overheard them talking late one night on her way back from a snack break, and heard Steve call Jim dad. Well, that's none of her business.)

Almost 4 days after Steve woke up, Claudia heard crutches in the hallway and looked up just in time to see Eddie slowly making his way into the room.

"Eddie! Look at you, up and moving around! Here, let me get you a chair." Claudia rushed around, pulling a chair up to Steve's bedside so Eddie could drop into it with a grateful smile. Steve had been watching TV and muted it to look at Eddie.

"Thanks, Mrs. H," Eddie spoke to her before turning all of his attention to Steve, a soft smile on his face. A glance at Steve showed the same smile and she watched as they talked, hands slowly inching closer together on top of the sheets.

Claudia went back to her knitting and watched over them, just happy that Steve had someone else in his life. She could see the bits of longing in the way they looked at each other, the laughter that Steve normally reserved for Robin, the gentle touches.

As Steve's mom she knew she would have to talk to Eddie later, but for now she was content watching young love grow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAGLIST

@maya-custodios-dionach @eldtritchlizardblast @y4r3luv @devondespresso @zerokrox-blog @disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @lingeringmirth @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @spectrum-spectre @steddieasitgoes @puppy-steve @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @nburkhardt @sllooney @princessstevemunson @yellowdevilkitten @emchant3d @steddie-island @afewproblems @gregre369 @bookbinderbitch @salty-h0e @steddie-as-they-go @marvel-ous-m

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #claudia henderson #parental jim hopper #I finally did it #this is so soft it hurt me

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findafight · 2 years ago

Note

On the one-sided harringrove post- I feel it becomes infinitely funnier with bi steve. He likes men, just not Billy. Never Billy.

Oh yeah. When Billy fiiiirst comes to school with his music blaring Steve is head over heels for Nancy, so he might register that the guy with the Camaro and loud music has a good ass, but then billy opens his mouth and Steve is like "oh, no ass can make up for that personality." And continues with his life.

Just. Okay I like to project just a liiiiittle on Steve with him just. Not realizing his attraction to men isn't a straight thing. Like. Of course all straight people feel that way, you just kinda ignore it or don't do anything about it. So Steve is half way between being comfortable in his sexuality and being closeted to himself because buddy used Hawkeye Pierce as the blueprint of straightness.

So Billy is out here, wallowing in self hatred and internalized homophobia, hating Steve and wanting Steve and hating that he wants Steve and wishing Steve would pay attention to him enough for a hate fuck he can cry about later, and it's all very angsty. All the while Steve is just actually completely fine with thinking a dude is hot he's just got standards that include "not racist" "doesn't try to beat up kids" "hasn't made me blackout from head trauma"

Wait. Oh no. I feel an au coming on. Shit. Au where post S2 Robin hears piano coming from the band room after hours and is her curious self going "I must see who is this mysterious genius" and it's Steve. They get to talking and hanging out and all of a sudden Robin thinks they are actually good friends. Best friends. Somehow.

Cue them going to a band party together. Someone spikes their drinks with waayyyy more than they were expecting so they are blasted. Robin has to go pee but does not want to go alone so she drags Steve into the bathroom with her and makes him face away. He's like haha Woah you really had to pee. And she goes shut upppp and washes her hands but sits across from him. Steve smiles at her and gives her his speech about how amazing she is and how glad he is to be her friend (it is like March '85 so he is still not ready to get back out into dating yet). Robin tells him about Tammy. They sing. Someone slams the door open and kicks them out of the bathroom because there's a fuckin line.

They lay on the grass outside and look at the sky. Steve like. Caaaaasually mentions once having thought he was gonna marry Tommy when he was six and then realizing you just didn't do anything about those feelings and Robin's gotta shoot up going WHAT!! WHAAAT? Because it sounded like Steve coming out to her? Right after?? She came out to him??

And Steve is like yeah. Like you don't really have to? Easier to ignore it and flirt with girls who I like or think are hot. And poor Robin's brain is melting she's like please Steve I'm really drunk are you telling me you sometimes want to kiss boys? And he's like yes, obviously, everyone does. Just like everyone also wants to sometimes kiss girls. Except lesbians I guess who only want to kiss girls? And gay guys only want to kiss guy? Yeah that makes sense and straight people don't care but go for the opposite ya know?

Robin is like NO!! And calms down some and says "okay I'm telling you this because you are my friend and you just told me almost the same thing. Steve. I like girls and only like girls. That not a straight thing"

"yeah. You've said."

"but I am ninety nine percent positive that just because you like girls doesn't mean you're straight because you also like boys."

"what"

"yeah dude, I do not think this is a heterosexual experience you're describing. I'm not an expert but. Yeah.

"oh. Huh."

"yep."

"I definitely thought it was."

"your brain is so weird I'm still kind of obsessed with you."

"haha. Honestly I'm kind of obsessed with you. This is wild."

"well. At least I know you're stuck with me."

"ohhh nooooo whatever will I do with my best friend always around..."

ANYWAYS THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS is not in fact the stobin. It's actually that

Sometime probably in may, when Steve is ready to be on the dating scene again, he gets with Eddie. Robin is happy for him but also so mad because he went from "probably shouldn't act gay even tho everyone feels a little gay sometimes" to "hey Robin what would you say if I said I got a boyfriend?" In less than two months. How does he have straight AND gay game. That's not fair.

Steddie getting together is a non event. Eddie is still like ewww sports and yet somehow he made out with Steve Harrington and the next day Steve asked if he wanted to get milkshakes and throw rocks into the quarry to see the splashes. Eddie must restrain himself from thinking it's a date because he knows it's not but it'd also be the perfect date (Eddie is a simple man)

At the end of the night steve kissed his cheek and says "I had a really great time..."

Eddie just blurted "hey do you want to be my boyfriend?"

To which Steve perks up like "yes! I'd like that!"

And Eddie didn't actually think he'd get that far so he was like "neat!! See you tomorrow!" before slamming the door in Steve's face.

So they're dating and Eddie disparages sports but Steve is like haha aw you don't like watching me play? Which is sooo mean to Eddie because obviously?? He likes?? Watching his boyfriend??? Run around in tiny shorts and sometimes shirtless?? He has to reevaluate some things he supposes.

All while this is happening Billy is still on his Greatest Homoerotic Rivals shtick with Steve. Eddie notices and is like to dude...what is with Billy? And Steve just sighs. Says Billy is weird and obsessed with him and glares all the time. It's a whole thing. Billy is pissed because what is Steve, his epic rival, doing hanging around some random band geek, his sister's bitchass friends, and maybe the local dealer.

Alright. Grad happens. Yay Steve! Poor Eddie. They go to some party , hang out with people, sell some drugs, etc. Billy is unfortunately also at this party, and is like. Lazer eyes boring into Steve's back. Very annoying. At some point, he sees Steve slip away and is like this is my chance so he follows him.

Howmever he comes across Steve, his epic and totally heterosexual rival, making out with Eddie the freak Munson.

And listen this is a scary thing to be caught inna town like Hawkins, but that's not the point of this post.

So Billy goes "what the hell?"

They turn around. Billy is still spluttering.

"what are you-why would you-- with him?!" He says.

Steve raises his eyebrows, alllll cocky confidence. He smirks a bit. Drawls. "Well, yeah. I like cock, billy. Just not yours."

Because the point of this post is that Steve is a bitch.

Thank you.

#steve Harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #steddie #anti harringrove #lol anon you got me rambling.#stranger things #robin buckley #findaanswers #finda writes stuff #anonasaurus #anti billy hargrove #tagging for both i guess hoo boy #didnt think itd turn up in the billy tag because thats the eighth tag so i guess my bad!#it was for organization and tag blocks #billy Hargrove

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thissortofsorcery · 2 years ago

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Billy doesn’t want to get up.

The early morning sunlight is shining on him from the open window, sunbeams still watered down at seven am; a warm, gentle caress on his scarred back before the sun turns to scorching like it always does in California.

Steve’s already up and about. He has an early shift on Tuesdays.

Billy has his eyes closed, but he can hear Steve moving around the room, though he’s trying to be quiet. Billy hears the scratch of denim on his thighs, the spritzes of hairspray, him tripping on the sneakers he left by the closet like he does every damn time he stays over, then the jingle of keys.

He likes to hear Steve in his room, like he belongs there. Likes it when he spends the night. It's been happening more and more since Steve moved to California, six months ago.

The bed dips beside Billy.

“You gonna sleep all day?” Steve asks, running a large hand up Billy’s back, making him want to stretch.

“Thinking ‘bout it,” Billy mumbles without opening his eyes.

Steve hums and leans his weight against Billy, kissing a path up his shoulder, laughs against his skin. It tickles.

“If you get bored, I get off at four today, if you want to meet up.”

“‘mkay,”

Truth be told, Steve’s so warm, and he smells good, and the way he’s all over Billy is like they’re cuddling again, so Billy’s almost asleep.

Steve laughs again, “Okay, go back to sleep. I’ll call you later,” Billy feels the bed shift, hears his keys again. Steve kisses his hair, “I’m heading out. Love you.”

In the morning silence, he hears Steve’s footsteps walking away. The front door opens and closes.

Billy’s eyes snap open. He’s wide awake, now.

Was he dreaming, or did Steve say he loved him?

Billy flops over on his back. The ceiling has no answers for him.

Did Steve mean it? Or did he say it like he's used to saying it to other people, like Robin or his parents? Bye, love you. Good night, love you. Did he even notice he said it? Why else would he say that when Billy was practically asleep? Who the fuck does that?

Billy kicks off the sheets tangled in his legs while grumbling under his breath, manages to yank on a pair of shorts, and barely remembers to grab his keys on the way out. His sneakers are hastily shoved on as he's stomping down the stairs of the building.

When he slams out into the street, he looks around for the burgundy of Steve's car, squinting and shading his eyes with one hand. It doesn't take him long to find it. Steve hasn't gone far yet.

Billy sets off at a run, feeling the sun on his shoulders, on his chest, as he weaves between cars to try to get to Steve. He has to reach him. He needs to know.

The street isn't full, the cars are moving fast. Billy has to run faster.

"Steve!" Billy calls, hoping the idiot has his window open. "Steve!"

There's a corner coming up. The turn signal on the Beamer is blinking. Billy has to reach him. He's almost there. Almost.

"Steve!" Billy slams both hands on the passenger window, and the car brakes suddenly, accompanied by a loud yell coming from inside the car. Cars start honking behind them, and Billy flips them off. Then he slaps his hands on the window again, "C'mon Steve, lemme in."

Steve leans over the passenger side to make a face at Billy. He mouths something that looks like "Billy, what the fuck?", and Billy just keeps knocking, shouting,

"Let me in, come on!"

The door finally opens, and Billy catches the phrase "- hell is going on?" as he shoves inside. "You scared the crap out of me, Billy!"

"Fuckin' finally!"

"-what the fuck is happening right now, why don't you have a shirt on?"

"Did you mean it?" Billy says, and Steve stops talking. He only blinks at Billy, mouth parted.

"What?"

"Did you mean it?" Billy asks again, searching Steve's face for any hint of an answer.

But Steve just blinks again, "Did I mean what?"

"You didn't mean it," Billy sags against the seat, voice flat. Fuck. He wants to hit something. Wants to hit himself. "You didn't even know you said it."

"Didn't know I said what?" Steve's voice rises with his confusion.

"That you love me!" Billy shouts, right in Steve's face, like an accusation. Then his voice goes small, "Right before you left."

Steve's eyes go wide, almost scared, and his mouth opens and closes like he wants to say something, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't say anything.

"It's fine," Billy says roughly, swallowing past a knot in his throat. He didn't know until now how much he wanted to hear that again. How much he wanted to hear it from Steve.

He reaches for the door handle, blinking fast, eyelashes already fucking clumping together like a fucking-

"Wait! Wait, wait, no, no, no- please. Billy," Steve says, starts with almost a shout and ends with a whisper, saying his name like a caress, soft like the hand that's taking Billy's and lacing their fingers together. "Hang on, just- I have to park the car, okay? Just let me park the car. Don't go."

All around them, cars are honking, a few people are yelling. They're still stopped in the middle of the street.

Billy nods, lets go of the door. Steve doesn't let go of his hand.

A couple of minutes later, they're parked a few yards down the street. The street traffic is back to normal, like nothing happened. Steve's thumb is stroking his hand.

"Billy, I-"

"'s alright," Billy shrugs. He doesn't turn to look at Steve. "You don't have to-"

"I did mean it," Steve says, leaning towards him. His face is doing that puppy-eyed thing where he looks kinda desperate, and it makes Billy's insides twist. "And I'm sorry I said it like that and left, okay? I'm so sorry. But it's true," He cups Billy's face, and touches his thumb to the corner of Billy's eye. It comes away damp. "I love you, Billy. I- You're the best part of my life."

For the hundred times Billy imagined hearing that, for the thousand times he held back from saying he loved Steve- He can’t say anything now. There’s a whirlpool in his chest, pulling in his lungs and his ribs and his throat, making it impossible for him to catch his breath, and it’s going to take him down if he doesn’t commit the sound to memory, if he doesn’t memorize every syllable.

His hand shoots out, wraps a fist around the shoulder of Steve’s shirt.

“Tell me again,” Billy rasps out. He doesn’t recognize his own voice.

Steve’s mouth widens in a small smile, and it grows bigger, bigger as his face comes closer, and Billy can’t look away. Wouldn’t want to.

Steve kisses him, "I love you."

And kisses him, "I love you."

Until Billy's own mouth is tingling and bruised and slick, and the hand that was fisting Steve’s shirt is tight in a handful of hair instead, until Billy’s body is burning in all the spots that Steve is touching him, panting harshly, heartbeat wild.

They pull back only to rest their foreheads together, noses touching, breathing the same air. Steve’s hand is still cradling his face, thumb stroking his cheekbone and sending a shiver down his neck.

“Billy," Steve murmurs, and brushes their lips together. "You okay?"

Billy just nods, not understanding the question. His breath is shaky and he's clinging to Steve like a vice, but he's good. He's happy.

Steve's thumb, still stroking his cheek, glides on wet skin, wipes tears away. He didn't realize he was crying.

Steve kisses his cheek so softly, plush lips brushing the splatter of his freckles all the up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye, then to his temple, until Billy's face is buried in Steve's neck, held tightly to him in a hug that could swallow Billy whole. It's kinda dumb to think he wanted to hear the words when everything Steve does feels like this, like he's pouring his whole heart into it.

"I love you too, you know," Billy mumbles, and feels Steve grin against his neck, feels the kiss he presses into his skin and the shiver it sends down his spine. "Really fucking do."

Billy wants to stay here, feeling Steve breathe with him, even if his hip is twisted uncomfortably. He's so happy it's enough to make him forget they're mashed together in the front seats of the Beamer after Billy chased Steve down half naked. But it can't last forever.

"You gotta go to work," Billy says, and tries to pull away.

"I'll call in," Steve says, and squeezes Billy tighter. "I'm so, so sick, can't you tell? Need to stay in bed all day," and he rocks them from side to side.

Billy laughs in his ear, "Oh yeah? Anyone else with you in that bed?"

"Well, it's your bed, so..." Steve says, and Billy can't stand that goofy fucking grin of his, so he catches it with his mouth, bites at it until Steve's moaning.

In a minute, they're gonna pull back and figure they'd much rather continue this in Billy's apartment. In a minute, Steve's gonna turn the car on to go back to Billy's building and have such a hard time parking that they'll figure they should've just walked back. In a minute, their day is going to go on, and on, and stretch into countless other days spent together, either in front seats or backseats of cars, or outside of cars altogether.

But for now, they're a tangle of limbs on the front seat of a BMW, freshly traded "I love you"s, lost in the feeling of each other because there can't be anything more important than this. Just Billy and Steve.

every time anti bullshit shows up on my dash, I write Steve loving on Billy | III

#owed you for sunday sorry folks #i was a little bit blocked #this one has a car chase #spreading billy love #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #sorcery writes #mine

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captainlunaxmen · 10 months ago

Text

Just a Little More

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve's over Nancy, and there's a girl on his mind. One night out and some flirting might lead to a jealous Steve getting drunk.

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

I'm not a party person. I'm definitely not a party person.

The music is too loud, the people are... too many. I don't know how Steve always manages to drag me in these things.

And yet, here I am, once again.

"C'mon, don't give me that face," he tells me as we walk to the house hosting the party. "You need to go out more,"

"I'm fine as I am. Thanks" I complain. "you just insist because you need moral support"

"For what?" He asks, faking innocence.

"You want to see Nancy"

"That's... no, okay? I'm over her. I swear." He says confidently "my eyes are on someone else now"

"Oh yeah?" I ask, with a surprised laugh "and who might that be?"

"I'm sure you already know her" he answers.

"Please don't tell it's Robin" I beg, I couldn't even warn him.

"Nah, don't worry." He says wrapping an arm around my shoulders urging me to walk faster towards the party "you'll find it out... sooner or later"

"Whatever"

I hope he's not gonna have his heart broken again. I hated seeing him after the break up with Nancy.

We've been friends for a little while now. We got closer last year after an alternate dimensional creature attacked me, Nancy, Jonathan and him at Byers' house. He turned out to be not so much of an asshole, he even became my brother's best friend... big surprise. And now we're here.

As we enter the big house we're instantly surrounded by music, people and a strong smell of alcohol.

"Want something to drink?" Steve shouts over the music in my ear.

"No, thanks" I shout back.

"I'll be right back" he tells me.

"I'll go get some air"

He gives me a 'already?' look, nods and goes to the kitchen I suppose.

Yep, I decide I already need some air so I try to find my way to the back.

I walk through the sea of people dancing and chatting at the party as quickly as possible until I successfully get to the back.

Luckily there are a very few people, some are smoking and some are... holding their heads, feeling dizzy probably.

I try to enjoy the moment of peace, my mind wandering about who the girl Steve has a crush on now might be. Especially since he told me I know her.

Could it be Casey from my art class?

Or maybe it's Kelly...

I really can't-

"Hello there"

A voice interrupts my stream of thoughts.

Turning around I find myself face to face with none other than Billy Hargoves himself.

"Uh... Hi" I politely say, turning back around away from him.

I sense him walking beside me, he doesn't speak, though I can feel his eyes on me. The gesture makes me more nervous as seconds go on.

I try to not acknowledge him tok much, hoping he'd get tired and walk back inside, but unfortunately he stays.

Where the hell is Steve when I need him?

"I feel very lucky tonight" he casually say.

"Why's that?" I ask, knowing there's no way to ignore him anymore.

"Because I finally got you on your own and not attached to Harrington's hip" he answers with a grin.

"Yeah... uhm.. he's just getting something to drink. He... he'll be here sooner or later" I nervously laugh, trying to sound as casual as him.

"The later the better" he says softly.

"Uhm..." I think of something to say but nothing comes out.

"You tutor my sister, right? Well.. my step-sister" he asks.

"Yeah,I think. Max, right?"

"That's her. She always talks about you with my father and his girlfriend. She always talks about how nice and gentle you are" he speaks softly, slightly leaning towards me.

"Yeah.. well, that's nice of her..." I say, not looking at him "I only try to make her feel as comfortable as I can"

"And we all appreciate it" he basically whispers in my ear.

I step away, but I tripp into what looks like a vase and almost fall.

Billy's hands quickly catch me, helping me up, but even when I'm up straight again he doesn't let go. His grip isn't tight, I could shrug it off, but I can't seem to anyway.

"Careful there, gorgeous" he winks.

"Sorry... uh... thanks" I finally get out of his grip.

"My pleasure" he says looking down at me. He's still very close to me and as soon as I can catch his eyes falling to my lips, I take a deep breath turning my head to look back inside for Steve.

"Uhm... I think I'll go find Steve... I'll see you around" I say walking past him, but he moves to block my way.

"I'm sure he's fine. Stop worrying about him, for once... and" he moves his hand to rub, so slightly, my arm. "And start to worry about yourself... maybe we-"

He's cut off by Steve's voice.

"There you are!"

He's drunk... already?

"Ah! King Steve finally joined us!" Billy declare sarcastically.

"Are you drunk already?" I ask.

"Me? I could never..." he walks towards us, but almost fall as he nears.

"Yeah... sure" I say unconvinced.

"Damn... don't you look stunning..." he hiccups.

"Yeah. Okay. We're going." I state.

"No no no no no no" Steve blurts out. "You were having fun with him. Keep... keep going"

Oh god...

"C'mon Steve." I try to grab him to make him walk, but he yank himself away, falling to the ground.

"Don't worry, I'm okay" he quickly blurts out.

I let out a bug frustrated sigh, thinking about how to bring him home.

"Need a help taking his ass home?" Billy suddenly asks.

"I... you don't" I start.

"It's no trouble, sweetheart" he grins. "C'mon"

He grabs Steve's arm and lifts him up, helping him walk all the way to Billy's car.

"Open the door" he tells me and I rush to open the backseat door so Billy can make Steve lay there.

Then Billy and I get in as well and he starts to drive.

------

"Thanks, Billy" I say as Billy help Steve sit on the couch in Steve's house.

"No problem, sweetheart" he smirk looking back at me. "Take care, King Steve" he adds sarcastically

I walk him to the door.

"You know...how about you and I finish what we started earlier?" He suggests.

"Uh?"

"About you starting to worry about yourself instead of him." He says, moving to grab my hand.

"Uhm... I.. I'm sorry..." I carefully move my hand out of his grip, glancing quickly at Steve on the couch "I better check on him"

"As you wish" He raises both hands in surrender, but surprisingly he smiles too. "If you ever change your mind, give me a call, sweetheart"

When Billy walks back to his car I walk back to Steve.

"Let's get you to bed, uh?" I say and he mutter something I can't catch.

I help him upstairs and to his bed.

"Oh thanks" he says like he just realised what's happening.

"No problem, Steve" I say as I help him take his shoes off.

"I ruined your night" he mutters.

"What?" I'm confused.

"You seemed reeeeeally comfortable with Hargoves tonight" he blurts out.

"What are you talking about?"

"I say you two talking.. and he was preeeeeetty close" he explains.

"We were talking about Max, his sister. I tutor her"

Why do I need to explain myself? And why does he sounds... jealous?

"He was too close" he states and he finally crawls to lay under the covers of his bed.

"Yeah. I guess." I say with a say and heading downstairs to grab him a glass of water.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"To grab some water"

"You coming back... right?" He seems.. anxious. Why?

"Sure"

I walk downstairs to finally grab a glass and quickly go back to Steve only to see him talking his shirt off, to sleep, the sight blocks me.

It happened before... I already saw him taking his shirt off, for any sort of reasons.. well.. not all possible reasons. But now... now feels different. Why?

Fuck.

I take a deep breath and walk back in his bedroom.

"There you go" I hand him the glass and sit on the bed.

"Thank you" he says and manages to drink the whole glass.

"You're welcome"

We stay in a comfortable silence for a little while, Steve layed down taking deep breath and me sitting on his bed playing with my fingers.

"You feeling okay?" I suddenly ask and he hums nodding.

"Good. You need anything I'll be downstairs" I tell him with a smile and get up.

"What? You're not sleeping here?" He gestures to the other side of the bed.

"You want me to sleep there?" I chuckle.

I always sleep on his couch when sometimes it's too late to walk home... never in his bed.. with him.

"Yeah." He says as a matter of fact.

"I... o-okay" I say. "I.. I just don't have anything to wear to bed"

My plan was to take off my trousers and shirt and rely on the covers... I obviously can't if sleeping in his bed.

"Just grab something of mine. I don't mind.. quite the opposite actually" he says simply.

"What?" I chuckle surprised.

"Well.. seeing the girl I have my eyes on in my clothes... God..." he says, without thinking probably.

What...

"Uh?"

"How you have realised I'll never understand" he giggles.

Okay.. he's drunk.

"Sure" I say unconvinced.

I grab one of his shirts and a pair of pj's pants and get changed in the bathroom.

As I walk back in his room he's still laying down, but he uncovered the other side of his bed for me to get in.

"Hey!" He exclaims.

"What?" I ask.

"I haven't seen you!" He complains.

"You're basically sleeping, Stevie. You can't keep your eyes open." I tell him. "Go to sleep"

"You don't believe me" he states.

"About what?"

"You being the girl... I.. like" he hiccups.

Is it true?

"You're drunk, Steve. Your just-"

"No, no, no, no" he says holding his finger to my lips, to stop me from keep speaking. "You're that girl. You. You. Yooou"

So... my crush isn't one-sided as I always thought..

"Stevie..."

"Kiss me?"

"Uh?" I ask taken aback.

"Please?" He says getting closer. Cuddling against me.

"How about this... you sleep and tomorrow morning, if you still feel like this, I'll kiss you." I tell him.

"And you'll believe me?" He asks looking at me with puppy eyes.

"Yes Steve. I'll believe you" I say, thankful for the darkness hiding my flustered face.

"Great" he says cuddling more against me.

"Goodnight Steve"

" 'Night... love"

The thing is... I do believe him. I just want him to suffer a little more.

#stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington

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panickedpenguin · 1 year ago

Text

They're in the upside down, cold and bloody and not yet sure how to escape. But with the last attack comes a familiar face gripping hard onto a hatchet.

"Billy?" Steve breaths, glancing back at Nancy to make sure she could see him too, that he isn't hallucinating.

"Yeah?" Billy says, eyes roving over their stained clothes and lack of weapons. "And who the fuck are you?"

Steve blinks, confused. "Steve? Steve Harrington."

The name gets no reaction at all, just Billy's blank face, pale and intense. The others look between themselves, Robin stepping closer to Steve and Eddie giving a half shrug. Steve tries again," We went to high school together, man. You kicked my ass at basketball."

"High school?" Billy sneers, "When was that, a hundred years ago? Look around dumbass, this place is dead."

"What?"

"What?" Eddie chimes in.

"Did he get hit on the head?" Robin asks.

"Billy," Nancy says, going for gentle though her voice still shakes. She moves forward, a placating hand put up between them. "This isn't the real world. We call it the upside down, a world parallel to ours. We came in through a gate and can get back home through another one."

"How did you get here?" Steve wonders aloud.

Billy stands very still, not quite having lowered his hatchet from a fighting stance. His eyes followed Nancy's every move and now they snap to Steve.

"I've been here a while. Long as I can remember," he says. Something on Steve's face must alert him to something because he then shrugs and turns to walk away.

"Wha-"

"Hey!"

"Billy! Where are you going!"

Billy doesn't answer, just keeps moving, hiking his backpack higher and stepping easily around the vines splayed across the ground. The four teenagers follow after him, confused and skeptical and, in Eddie's case, picking dirt out of his teeth.

"Hargrove, wait," Steve demands, rushing to his side. "We know eachoth-"

"My name ain't Hargrove. Stop following me."

"Not--" Steve stutters, nearly trips and then shouts, "We know eachother! We're- I mean we weren't friends but- we went to school together and we traded Max back and forth a lot and we stole eachothers cigarettes and-" This wasn't working, Steve realizes as Billy only continues walking with eyes searching ahead. Steve sees a fresh scar across his ear and remembers-

"Look!" Steve jumps in front of Billy, cutting off his march and getting a hatchet raised over his head. "Look!" He yells, holds his hair up, brandishing his forehead for Billy to see. "You gave me this scar. November 6th, 1984, at Joyce Byers' house. You smashed a plate over my head cause I was hiding your sister and wouldn't let her leave."

Billy blinks twice and then bares his teeth, growling out, "I'll give you a matching fucking scar for keeping some girl locked up you disgusting bitch!"

"It was because of the monsters! It wasn't safe because the monsters were out there, in the real world-"

"Steve was keeping Max and the kids safe, Billy," Nancy calls from behind them, finally having caught up. "You didn't know about the upside down or the monsters, so Steve was trying to protect you too."

"Protect me?" Billy scoffs, curling his lip. "What a fucking prince."

"Pretty sure what they're saying is true, man." Eddie says, watching how Billy grips his hatchet. "I knew you for like, a year before you died, and I didn't know shit about this crazy place until yesterday."

Steve didn't know if this was turning into a convincing argument, even as he sees something come over Billy's face. His eyes widen and he puts away his teeth.

"I died?" He asks.

Fuck.

#billy doesnt remember a thing while traipsing around the upside down being a badass #the fruity four show up and want to bring him home #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #mungrove #whatever #stranger things

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in3rci4 · 4 months ago

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± The black phone ±

Religious belief headcanons / ranking

† More to least religious †

( warning : it's going to be mix of some angst or different variety of headcanons topics)

1 = GWENDOLYN BLAKE : She's cannonly a religious fully believer girl ( she doubts for a moment but keeps her beliefs) and is convinced her ability is thanks to God or Jesus , we see her praying and talking to Jesus in her room . It's unknown if her mother or any other family member shared their beliefs with her or if she's influenced by her friends family ( mostly Susie ) when she's there visiting . I don't know if the school where she goes has catechism or not to say her education also influenced her .

2 = ROBIN ARELLANO : His family are firmly believers , they pray often and carry with themselves a rosary or a saint in small objets to protect them , although Robin more chill about the whole thing than his family . Due his mexican origins , his family also prays to hispanic saints and commemorate the Day of the Dead , wich it might be considered as " weird " or " diabolical " for some people in that time , but that doesn't stop him or his family to remember their past ancestors and deceased loved ones ( he secretly talks to his father from time to time , this day being the one

3 = BILLY SHOWALTER : He and his family are fairly christian , they pray before eating , go every sunday to church , have some holy symbols and objets here and there in their house , but that's it , they tend to rely more in the religion when times go rough or somebody is on a delicate stage , or already passed away . Billy got used to this way of living , but he doesn't like going to churches due how silent and boring he thinks the place is , yet he would always make sure to pray when his family or somebody else does it to not " make God mad " .

5 = GRIFFIN STAGG : His mother used to go to church but started to feel uncomfortable with time ( you can imagine the reason ) and she resorted to buy some crosses for the wall , one rosary near her bed and maybe a bottle of holy water for the protection of the house and that's it . She prays for others and the well being of her family , but Griffin in the other hand , only prays for politeness and to make his mom happy . In Griffin's mind he feels like it's a waste of breath praying when there's nothing bad happening and they need the help of Jesus or God , the few times he prayed to God was when he lost his favorite toy and wanted it back , for his mother to come late at home so he could finish cleaning a mess he did while playing and when he thought a monster was on the dark when he went to the bathroom in the night . Since then , he never gave Jesus or God a thought . Religion it's only there for him when he's on trouble .

4 = BRUCE YAMADA : He and his family are neutral about religion in general , not trying to bring back the traditions from Japan but also not jumping into the christian religion just because they are now living in USA . They only go to church to help people if they can or for social reasons , Bruce has a fair knowledge of the christian religion and sometimes " wishes " to God when he feels like it , but he hasn't prayed outside church or visiting someone's else house with christian beliefs . He doesn't give that much of a thought to it .

6 = VANCE HOPPER : I believe his mother is a christian believer , yet for what he sees , praying to God for things to chance or to get better is useless . It doesn't matter if you go to church , pray everyday , try your best to be a good person , Jesus will not gave a fuck about you , even if you need his father's help in your worst moments . When he was a kid he prayed to God to make his father good , for him to stop beating him and his mom , sometimes for some toy he couldn't afford , and he always promised that he will be good . But no matter how good he was , his father was never happy to see them , his violence would grow along with his age , so Vance realized that trying to be a good person didn't have any holy consequences , just like being an asshole didn't have either . So Vance assumed that God doesn't exist . He pities his mom when she prays for her family or for his father to come in good shape and mood , because she's wasting her breath . I headcanon that he'll be a little bit more in touch with religion when he grows up but not enough for him to change the majority of his beliefs .

7 = FINNEY BLAKE : Since the beginning he didn't understand religion . When he was a child , he thought that praying was just a game of talking to a invisible being that was similar to a genie , that congrats wishes to those who are good of heart or something like that in the children's story books . As he grown up , Finney by his own he realized how easy it was to manipulate people with their faith along with other reasons that made him skeptical about fully believing in God or to get invested on the christianity . He respects everyone's religion , he even supports Gwenny with her beliefs or prays to please her , but he ain't a religious guy , it's just how he feels about it .

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the-sprog · 2 years ago

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"so.... You're not the same person?"

"No," he really hopes they'll attribute his racing heartbeat and sweating face to nervousness and anxiety, and not because he's blatantly lying through his teeth.

"Who is he then?" He's sure that if he could see his face, Batman would be raising an eyebrow.

Or maybe not, maybe he's just as expressionless without his mask.

"Well..." Ok, Billy. You can do this. You've lied to police officers for harder things to hide. You have the excuse of magic this time. You can do it. "I guess you could say he's... My dad...?" That's surely not going to come back to bite him in the ass anytime soon.

Fuck Batman and fuck his face recognition software.

"You don't sound too sure yourself." Dammit Supes, you're supposed to be on his side, not poking holes in his story!

"It's kinda complicated. It's magic bullshit." He can feel the judgemental stares at his swearing, but he's freaking out too much to care about what the Justice League thinks of his politeness.

"Basically," he continues, not giving them the chance of asking questions again, "think about it this way. He's the one with the powers, and- and nothing actually happens to me if he gets hurt." Ok, technical truth. He can do this.

"So do you... Like... Switch places then?"

"Yes, that's exactly what happens." He thanks Superman mentally.

"What happens to you then?"

"Uuuhmmm." THINK THINK THINK. "It's like- well, basically... Only one of us can exist on any give plane of existence." Are those words too big for an 11 years old to know? Possibly. But he does learn a thing or two by being Marvel and constantly being surrounded by adults who spoke like they came out of a dictionary.

Or a court case.

"So you go... Where?" 'Flash if you don't stop asking questions,' Billy mentally threatens, 'I will make sure there is no food for you at the Watchtower or so help me Gods. I'll become the biggest annoyance you've ever had the displasure of dealing with'

"The Rock of Eternity." Probably his best lie yet.

"And it's.... Safe for you in the... Rock?" Diana, you beautiful, wonderful woman. Why would you do this to him?

Billy nods. "Yes, only we can go there. Well, and people we allow inside. But we don't do that." And Freddy doesn't count.

Neither does Darla.

And Mary.

And Pedro.

Eugene.

None of the rest of his family counts, let's leave it at that.

"As long as the Champion of Magic is there to protect it, it's the safest place one could be in"

'If you strong enough to resist the temptations of the embodiment of the Seven Deadly Sins, that is' he didn't say. He thought it, though.

Gosh he hopes Martian Man Hunter hasn't been reading his mind this whole time.

That would be awkward, to say the least.

"But why are you two like this- what happened?" Well Flash is not going to eat in the tower for a good while.

Billy fidgets. One last lie. Can he 'technically the truth' his way out of this one?

"Well... Marvel is not... Really my dad. He's more like...." C'mon words, c'mon. "His ghost or-or his... His legacy! Yeah. And a few years ago- there's a Wizard involved. We got the blessings of the Gods and- I don't actually know the details." Mostly because the details don't actually exists.

But they don't need to know that.

The other heroes share a glace.

He knows they're not happy about the whole situation. He doesn't even want to imagine what they'd say if they knew he was lying.

Vaguely, he remembers about a conversation Robin and Superboy had. Something that Nightwing and Hood brought on. Something about Batman and his tendency of pulling children under his wing.

Suddenly, Billy becomes self conscious of the holes in his clothes, the dirt-stained jeans, his hair that he clearly cut himself, the bruises and scrapes under the fabric that the other heroes can't even see.

He must really look like something alright.

"Can we talk to the Captain, kid?" He's surprised that throughout all of this none of them had even asked his name.

"Yeah, sure." He yells the magic word, with a passing thought of not having well calculated having to pose as two separate people in their eyes now.

#Captain Marvel #dc Captain Marvel #shazam #billy Batson #justice league #ficlet #dc ficlet

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cycat-carisi · 1 year ago

Text

I Left My Pretty Baby With Ralphie

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

Summary: If you haven't heard the tune "Ralphie" by Joe's former band, Post Animal, check it out! The tune inspired me to write a little thing about our favorite former King of Hawkins High and the massive crush he has on the reader.

Tags: Fluff, Summer of '85, Post-season 3, Pre-season 4, Steve Harrington has it bad and he really doesn't know what to do about it.

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, partying high schoolers, spoilers for season 3

Length: ~2.5k

A/N: This is pure, unedited word vomit. I don't have the time to write right now and yet here we are. (:

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

Steve should have known better. Afterall, when one king falls, another is always waiting to take his place. Steve’s fall from grace had been less than glorious. Billy had shown up to claim the crown and had rubbed Steve’s face in it for good measure. And now, with Billy having succumbed to the Mind Flayer, the position of king had once again been ripe for the taking. This time it was little Ralphie Baker who rose to the occasion – well, not so little anymore. Over the summer of ’85 he had finally gotten a long-overdue growth spirt in both height and muscle. At six feet tall and a hundred and sixty pounds, Little Ralphie Baker’s ascent to the throne came just in time for his senior year.

Steve wouldn’t have been so bothered by Little Ralphie Baker if it hadn’t been for what happened at the last house party of the summer…

~~“It’s not in the way that you walk that gets me off. It’s the way that you think. It’s the way that you talk.”~~

The summer of 1985 started out pretty decent except for the obvious humiliation of working at a place like Scoops Ahoy. Sure, Steve struck out with the ladies and sure, Robin made fun of him for it, but at least working at the mall allowed him to see the people he cared about regularly. People including you.

You were Robin’s age, about to go into your last year of high school. After having been paired for a group project in one of your classes last year, you found out how awesome Robin actually was. The two of you became fast friends and during the summer you would visit her at Scoops for free samples and a back entrance into the theatre.

That’s also how Steve met you. The first time Robin introduced you to him made quite the impression on Steve. After all, he had come to respect Robin’s judgement on a lot of things, so, for you to be worthy of Robin’s friendship already spoke volumes about the kind of person you were.

As time went on, you and Steve found yourselves getting along really well too. So much so that it became the highlight of Steve’s day when you’d walk into the ice cream parlor with a lovely smile springing to life when you spotted him. The two of you would chat on his break and Steve was more than happy to show another member of Hawkins High that he wasn’t the same person that he used to be.

The lovely friendship between the two of you continued to grow, even after the Mind Flayer wrecked havoc on Hawkins. Instead of free ice cream, both Steve and Robin would let you use their Family Video discount; the store being your new place to hang out over the remainder of summer break.

Having such a strong and effortless connection, it was no wonder Steve found himself falling for you: your pretty smile, the shy way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear when he gave you a compliment, and especially how you just seemed to get him. He never felt judged when he was around you, only accepted. In his head and in his heart, Steve knew that he loved you; he had just never found the courage to tell you yet.

That’s why the last house party of the summer bugged Steve so much. You had generously offered him to tag along with yourself and Robin, but the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington, had completely blown it.

~~“But I can’t tell this girl what’s on my mind. And it seems it's getting closer all the time.”~~

The night had started out fine. Your little trio flitted from social group to social group, sipping drinks and exchanging pleasantries with the other guests. Being the only one with a car or driver’s license, Steve had graciously agreed to be the DD for the night allowing you and Robin to let loose to rhythms like Phil Collins’ Sussudio blasting over the boom box.

Seeing you so relaxed and carefree sent shock waves straight to Steve’s heart. And when you rushed over to grab his hands in yours to dance, his heart nearly stopped altogether. Your cheeks were rosy from laughing and the slight buzz of alcohol, yet Steve still found you gazing at him with the same softness that you always did, even while twirling him around to the beat.

Then abruptly, the upbeat song came to an end, switching to the ballad of Bryan Adam’s Heaven. Awkwardly, Steve released himself from your grasp as if the lyrics would reveal every feeling that he was too nervous to share on his own. A party like this just wasn’t the time.

Steve saw you glancing at him with a mixture of confusion and something that bordered on hurt as he slowly retreated backwards.

Before anything further could transpire, the sound of Robin’s slurred voice calling out Steve’s name caused both your heads to turn. She clearly had been sipping back a few more drinks than you had. You both went to her aid finding her contemplating whether or not she was going to throw up.

“Take her home,” you told Steve, sympathetically. “There’s nothing more humiliating than puking at another person’s party.”

Steve knew you were right. Even though the night was young, Robin’s inability to hold her liquor warranted her an early retirement.

“You wanna stay longer?” Steve asked you while propping Robin against his shoulder.

Steve watched as you turned to glance around the room. Some of your other classmates you actually liked were still here to chat with. He tried to hide his desire to steal you away for some quiet one-on-one time after dropping Robin off. Steve hated to admit to himself just how often he daydreamed of taking you out for late night milkshakes at the local diner.

“I think…” you began, shaking Steve out of his thoughts. “hmm…are you coming back?” you asked him, almost shyly.

“I uh, I can if you want me to. After all, I did drive you here.” Steve shifted to reposition a now sleepy and very slouched Robin while simultaneously trying his damnedest to avoid your eyes.

“Steve,” you beckoned him to look at you. “I didn’t invite you with us just to be our driver. I wanted you to have some fun too.”

Steve knew that. He knew that you actually cared about him and wanted him to be a part of your life. Yet, Steve wasn’t convinced that you’d want him to be part of your life in the same way he did.

“Yeah, sure then,” he replied simply. “I’ll come back later. Will you be okay here by yourself? I know you didn’t have as much to drink as this one,” he gave Robin a nudge causing her to groan. “But still. Parties can get weird nonetheless.”

His concern caused you to smile that gorgeous smile he loved so much. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll be okay though. Promise.”

And with that, Steve set off to haul Robin home. But it was as he was leaving the house that he heard the voice of Little Ralphie Baker enter the room.

~~“I went to the party and I left my pretty baby with Ralphie, baby, and now I’m alone.”~~

Steve returned about a half an hour later ready to laugh with you about how difficult Robin was to sneak into her house while wasted. She was all uncoordinated limbs, swapping between jaunty giggles and annoyed groans. Except as he entered through the living room’s front door, his ears were met with the sound of your melodic laughter. There you were, holding your solo cup and stood beside none other than Little Ralphie Baker. His now broad shoulders were squared to your petite frame, narrowed eyes gazing down upon what Steve could only imagine was your chest and, of course, smiling a devilish grin. And you – you were taking it all in! Just standing there chatting and laughing with the new king of Hawkins High.

Steve felt his stomach knot in jealousy while it seemed as though his heart fell right out of his chest. Sure, he could waltz over there and butt in. He knew exactly what Ralphie was doing; Steve used to pull the same shallow moves himself. But the fact of the matter was, despite how much Steve loved you, you were never really his to lose to begin with.

Steve wanted to run. He wanted to jump in his car, speed home and burry himself under his duvet. He hated how each and every time he felt something genuine for a girl, she never felt the same way. Steve had tried so hard to change and be a better person, yet he still couldn’t find anyone to love him for who he had become. He thought that person could have been you, but once again he had clearly been wrong.

~~“And now I'm feeling something and I know she's doing better, without me, baby guess I'll go home whether that's with or without you.”~~

The gravel crunched under his sneakers as Steve marched himself back to his car. He got in and slammed the door, hands slapping against the steering wheel. He slid one off, about to put keys in the ignition when he stopped. He had made you a promise. Even if he refused to witness the rest of the party, he would still wait here to drive you home when you were ready to leave.

With a sigh, Steve turned the key only slightly, allowing his radio to come to life. Like a curse, Heaven’s romantic notes filled the car, and Steve yanked the dial to the right until something more upbeat replaced it. He let his head bounce back against the headrest and closed his eyes, dreading the inevitably long wait until you were finished partying with Little Ralphie Baker.

Then suddenly, a soft rap sounded on the passenger’s side window of the burgundy bimmer. Steve jumped, peering through fallen locks of brown hair towards the sound. It was you.

You gave a small wave and smile as he reached over to unlock the door and let you in. Confusion was etched across his entire face. “What are you doing here?” he stammered.

You gazed at him with your own hint of bewilderment. “Uh, getting in your car?” you reflected the question back at him as you buckled your belt.

“Why?” he said a little too coldly. “The party isn’t over yet.” Steve couldn’t bare to look at you any longer. He didn’t want to show you just how stupidly jealous seeing you with someone else had made him.

“What the heck has gotten into you, Steve?” you fired back, angling yourself towards him in the velvety seat.

Steve paused. This was not the can of worms he wanted to open right now. You still had alcohol in your system and Steve was high on his feelings for you. It could never end well, he thought. “Nothing,” he dismissed, once again reaching for the ignition.

“Steve,” you spoke smoothly. Then your hand reached for his forearm. Steve swore your touch would burn a hole in his sweater, but that voice, that sweet, calm, soothing voice...it compelled him stop and turn.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when he finally met your gaze.

Those big eyes of yours were so sincere and so sweet. How could he not tell you the truth? “I just,” he began, voice low in the small space of the car. “I just thought you’d want to stay longer. I walked in earlier and saw you with Ralphie Baker. Seemed like you two were getting along well.”

“Ralphie Baker?” you scoffed. “Ralphie Baker?! I couldn’t get that creep away from me fast enough!” you exclaimed. “He wouldn’t stop staring at my boobs! I didn’t want to make a scene or else I would have given him a slap.”

With your words, the vice around Steve’s chest suddenly released. His eyebrows unknitted and those dark eyes lit up in the dim light. “Really?” he spoke meekly. Shaking himself out of it, he continued, “Sorry, I should have stepped in to help…”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you assured him. “You came back and that’s all that matters.” Steve found himself captivated by the smile you give him. Maybe he was imagining things, but he was fairly certain that this very smile was one reserved only for him.

Your hand still rested on his forearm, thumb now rubbing lightly over the material of his shirt. The little gesture caused Steve to return a heart-felt grin. Maybe now wasn’t such a horrible time to lay it all on the line. It’s a huge leap, but the pounding of his heart was never going to stop if he didn’t say something.

“I,” Steve inhaled deeply. “I promised that I would come back, and I care too much about you to ever go back on my word.” That was a start. Just come out and say it, Steve. He examined your features closely for any signs of discomfort. Instead, all he found was intrigue. “I,” he began again. It was hard to hear his own thoughts over the sound of his pulse in his ears.

But before he could finish, Steve witnessed you leaning across the center console, hand using his forearm for leverage. And the next thing he knew, your lips were brushing softly against his. The kiss was better than he could have ever imagined. A million butterflies exploded inside his tummy and he found his free hand making its way to cup your cheek of its own accord.

As the pair of you leaned back, Steve’s face was plastered with a dopey grin. Yours was in much the same state. “I’ve been trying to figure you out all summer, Harrington,” you whispered. “I just never knew if I was reading the signals clearly.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot towards the roof. “Really?” he spoke gently.

“You were jealous about Ralphie, weren’t you?” you quipped. Steve opened his mouth to deny but you quickly added, “It wasn’t my intention, just so you know, but seeing you out here moping at least gave me the confirmation I needed.”

A warmth spread throughout Steve’s chest. “I guess I’m not so good at hiding my feelings, huh?”

You shook your head at him affectionately.

He smirked. “What am I feeling right now, then?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to contemplate. “I think you wanna take me out for a late-night milkshake, but only after you kiss me again here first.”

The twinkle in your eye made Steve’s heart melt. “You really can read me like a book,” he grinned before leaning into your lips once more.

~~“And when I see something I like you know that I gotta pounce. All the things that you say, say, say, I can trust every ounce.”~~

Thank you for reading and feedback is loved!

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #my fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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jimraisedmeup · 7 months ago

Text

TICK // 13.1 - i'm on fire

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content, virginity taking)

Word Count: 3000

A/N: *this chapter will contain graphic depictions of consensual sexual acts.

**longest chapter yet - 3k words

also... FORESHADOWING... pay attention bbys..

what do you guys think about the pace of this story?

technically, this story started right before Will went missing back in '83. it will eventually catch up with season 4 (1986).

also dirty things kick up after this because well, teenage relationships don't evolve to smut overnight. mehehe...

i plan on some time jumps coming soon, while also focusing on main events in the relationship. there won't be a ton of interaction with certain characters (Mike, Eleven, etc.) until then, because, well, in the show, Robin doesn't come along until season 3 and Eddie in season 4.

but let us not forget the arrival of *Billy* in 1984.

is there anything in particular you guys look forward to reading between '84 and '86? i'm genuinely curious ;-)

☾

February 15, 1984 - junior year

Your breathing was heavy, jagged and painful. How long had you been running?

Your muscles ached. Your vision blurred for a moment - upon catching your reflection in the dirty mirror, you could clearly see blood splattered across your face.

The blood… all of the blood… blood that was spat in your face.

You knew what you had done and you knew what you had to do. Nothing would be the same.

Floating in and out of consciousness, you let go.

☾

Hey little girl, is your daddy home? Did he go and leave you all alone? Mhmm I got a bad desire Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

☾

You opened your eyes to darkness.

You shot up in the bed, panicking for a split second, before realizing where you were. Eddie Munson's bedroom.

After a few moments, your tired eyes adjusted to the shadowy surroundings. The bed itself was warm and soft, a woodsy smell enveloping you as you shifted. The fluorescent glow of streetlights emanated from a distance behind the curtained windows.

A neon-faced alarm clock on the dresser told you it was 2AM.

Memories flooded back of the night before. You still weren't sure of the consequences you'd face after spitting on Mr. Eulin. You knew that your father didn't care where you were, but you were sure that Robin would have noticed your absence.

Pangs of embarrassment ran across your heart as you remembered dumping all of your problems on Eddie. Especially after the many times you avoided him in the hallways - simply because you were a coward who didn't want to let anyone in.

He deserved better than that.

Looking around, you were shocked to see Eddie sleeping on the floor in a bundle of blankets. His breathing was even and barely audible.

You threw your own blankets off without a second thought. Perching on the edge of the bed and reaching your foot as far as it would go, you kicked the sleeping boy's shoulder.

He didn't stir. You huffed, and kicked him harder.

Probably harder than you meant to.

"What the fuck, Uncle Wayne! Let me sleep!" he mumbled into his pillow, swatting your foot away.

You scoffed, and whispered back to him, "Do I look like your uncle, dingus?"

Eddie looked up at you from his makeshift bed, rubbing his eyes. "Jesus Christ, I forgot you were here."

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Why did you kick me?"

"Because you're on the floor!" you said, exasperated.

Eddie's voice became slightly high pitched in irritation. "So?!"

"So," you paused. "You should be up here. With me."

He stared blankly at you. "I didn't know if you'd want me to. I didn't want you to just, like, wake up and have me in the bed with you."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you scooted yourself further into the bed, making room for him. "Just… stop fussing and get up here, will you?"

It didn't take his sleepy figure very long to emerge from the blankets on the floor. Your face heated up like an iron on a fire when you saw he wore only a t-shirt and boxer shorts. A distinct line of dark, curly hair trailed down past the said shorts. But instead of making some rude comment like you normally would, you stayed silent and watched him.

The minute Eddie was under the blankets, you could feel how warm he was, smelling the faint trace of his cologne.

You coughed. "Can I, um, use the restroom?"

"Hell no!” he joked. But he couldn't hold in his drowsy, deep chuckle. "I’m kidding. You know where the bathroom is."

You inched your way out, dropping your feet onto the cold floor at the foot of the bed. As you turned the handle of his bedroom door, Eddie called out.

"Hurry back, freak. I miss you already."

☾

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you? And can he do to you the things that I do? Oh no I can take you higher Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

☾

Staring into the bathroom mirror suddenly reminded you of the hazy dream you had just woken up from. Shivers ran down your spine. Touching your face, you saw no trace of blood splatter, but you could almost still feel it on your skin. The shocking feeling of the blood as it was coughed into your eyes.

"What the fuck," you breathed, slapping your own face slightly.

Shaking yourself out of it, you swiftly looked away from the mirror, premonitions aside. You made your way around the small bathroom, doing your business and washing your hands.

Stealthily, you used a little of the mouthwash that was on the counter and spit it into the running water. If Eddie was about to be that close to you in bed, you didn't want him to think your breath smelled.

You purposely avoided the mirror again as you shut off the light and re-entered Eddie's bedroom. Fiddling with the door handle, you locked it shut behind you.

"What time does your uncle get home?" you asked the half-asleep figure on the bed. He didn't answer right away, so you assumed he fell back to sleep.

His voice sounded surprisingly awake, though. "A little after six or so. Why?"

You awkwardly squirmed back into the bed, grateful for the warmth on your feet and legs. You settled yourself between Eddie and the wall.

"Just wondering."

Eddie looked over at you suspiciously, a smirk evident on his face even in the poorly lit room. "Do you plan on taking advantage of me, Miss Buckley? Is that why you wanted me in the bed? Such clandestine behavior for a girl like you."

His mischievous grin was contagious. Just like everything else about him.

Picking at your nails, you feigned innocence. "What kind of girl do you think I am, Mr. Munson?"

You chose your words carefully, almost recreating the conversation you had that long ago September day, right before he gave you the tattoo on your hip.

He took the bait, realizing what you were doing.

"Hmm… I dunno. Eldest Buckley daughter. French Club. Good grades," Eddie responded, then he gasped dramatically. "...but didn't I see her leave with that scary Munson boy in his van after detention? On Valentine's Day, of all days? How scandalous."

You were cracking up laughing at this point. Eddie continued, this time in a higher-pitched voice, reminiscent of a gossiping housewife from the '50's.

"Betty, I can't even imagine what her parents might think. I heard she has a tattoo now. I bet her and that Hellfire Cult boy went off to make whoopee in the woods somewhere. If she knew any better, she could just sit on her vibrating washing machine without needing no man!"

"You did not just say 'make whoopee'!"

You were almost doubled over in laughter, and so was Eddie, breaking out of the corny character voice.

"Indeed I did, missy. I think I deserve an Oscar for that performance."

You leaned closer to him. "I think you deserve a lot. Everything. All day, everyday."

Peering over at you in the bed, Eddie examined you in close proximity. You could tell that he was pondering over your words.

"Is that why you used mouthwash when you went to the bathroom?" he questioned seriously, traces of his previous silly behavior fading away.

You rolled onto your back, looking away with an unsteady chuckle.

"No idea what you're talking about." But really, you did, and he was dead on the money. His honest gaze gave you goosebumps suddenly.

"You know, it's kinda dark in here, but I can see your nipples through my Black Sabbath t-shirt."

You gasped, pulling the blankets up to your neck with another laugh. "Eddie!"

He laughed too, but it sounded a little nervous. A moment of thoughtful silence passed between them.

Eddie sat up and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Look, I'm going to kiss you in about ten seconds."

Your breath caught in your throat, but said nothing. If you were honest with yourself, you couldn't think of a single thing you wanted more.

"And if you don't want me to, then reject me now," he explained, looking over at you. "And I'll fuck off, I'll go back to the floor. No questions asked. But I think you locked that door for a reason."

The boy with the large brown eyes moved closer to you, almost hovering above you. His hand reached under your blanket.

"Can I touch you?" he asked, his voice rough, almost desperate.

You shifted, somehow managing to get closer to him. You grabbed his warm hand under the sheets and squeezed it.

"It's been more than ten seconds, Eddie."

He let out a small laugh. "Well, you know I've always been terrible with my timing."

So you kissed him first.

Leaning up, you eagerly pressed your lips to his, one hand on the back of his neck to kiss him harder. You began to guide his hand underneath the tattered shirt you wore.

He pulled his mouth away for a second. "Okay, am I dreaming, Buckley? Are you sure about this?"

You sighed, head dropping back onto the pillow. "I asked to stay the night. I locked the bedroom door. I'm in your bed. This is borderline premeditated murder."

"I just want to know that you want this as much as I do," he said simply, fiddling with the edge of your shirt, as if he was picking a lock.

You touched his face, his pale skin almost glowing in the darkness, his brown eyes were pools of onyx.

"I want you, Eddie."

Something snapped in him, like opening floodgates. He maneuvered himself above you, kissing you like his life depended on it.

You pushed the blankets aside. "C'mere."

No hesitation remaining, Eddie moved his body between your legs. He kissed down your neck and placed his grip on your waist underneath the shirt, his shirt, that you wore. The shivers on your spine turned into a scorching fire, a fever taking over like a werewolf afflicted by a full moon.

He lifted your shirt up. You raised your arms to assist him, but instead of completely removing it, Eddie stopped the shirt right at your eyes. Your arms were gently trapped above you and your vision was obscured.

The slightly chilly air of his bedroom wasn't lost on your exposed skin. You felt him pause, and you could almost feel his eyes rake over your now bared chest.

You gasped when you felt his mouth on you, between your breasts and then underneath them. Nervousness fluttered through you. You had never been this exposed to anyone before - something in you said it was a wicked act.

And then a voice in the back of your head whispered, you'll be nothing but wicked the rest of your life.

All of the times you had felt ashamed for touching yourself in the middle of the night, all of the times you heard it was a sin. The raging battle within yourself for wondering why something that felt so natural could be considered wrong.

You couldn't find a single thing wrong with these hands that dragged across your skin. The grip on your hip bones. The lips that grazed your neck, biting softly. The fingertips that lingered at the edge of your shorts.

How could it be wrong when it was done with nothing but trust and respect?

You were panting at this point, writhing underneath Eddie, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying teasing you. He kept his own hips held away from you as his hands explored, teasing.

The exploration was subtle, though, somehow both caressing and rough. Eddie touched the spots of bare skin behind your armpits, inside of your knees, next to your belly button. He nibbled at the seam of your underwear.

And then he placed a heated, messy kiss to your lips, nuzzling your jaw with his head, like he was unsure for a moment.

His breath on your collarbone made you twitch. Using your free legs to your advantage, you enveloped them around him, dragging his hips roughly towards you. And then you realized what he was holding back; you could clearly feel the throbbing hardness between his legs through your shorts.

A thin sheen of sweat was creeping up on your neck, your own wetness beginning to come through the thin fabric of the shorts. Or was it Eddie? You didn't know, and frankly, didn't care.

You never felt more alive, more unabashedly human, in your entire life.

☾

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby Edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley Through the middle of my skull

☾

Almost consumed in this state of euphoria, Eddie felt anxiety knocking on the door of his consciousness.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice shaky and coarse.

He still nudged his head on your neck, in a pathetic attempt to keep his composure. The contact of his dick against the heat between your legs, with only a couple layers of way too thin fabric separating you, was almost too much to handle. His virginity was waiting in the wings.

You laid shamelessly before him. He had never seen anything more alluring.

Your skin was hot, hotter than the devil's house cat. Your legs seemed to have a mind of their own as you clumsily guided his hips to yours, like a magnet. Enough of seeing your hard nipples through every single shirt you wore - you bared them to him now as if they were an offering, his for the taking.

You let out a breathy laugh, light and airy. "Yes. Why? Do I not look okay?" You could easily pull the shirt off your eyes, off your restricted arms, but you remained in the same position he put you in.

"You… you're the most exquisite thing I've ever laid eyes on."

☾

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head Only you can cool my desire

☾

You considered your virginity for a moment - but just a moment. A very unoriginal three-hours-late Valentine's Day present, you bestowed it upon Eddie Munson.

Tenderly, Eddie removed the shirt from your eyes, your arms.

"I'll have to get you some handcuffs for Christmas, huh?" you joked. He didn’t have a reply.

The freedom of your hands led to more sinful acts. You took advantage of finally being able to touch him, yanking his shirt off in one quick motion. The soft smile on his face was irresistible as he tossed his shirt to the floor.

Pressing his bare chest to yours was comforting in a whole new sense - he consumed everything about you. Nervousness and inexperience took over; you were insecure about reaching a hand towards his manhood unprovoked.

Everything was uncoordinated and awkward. Eddie moved off the bed, stretching to grab something from a drawer in his dresser. You heard shuffling and then the foreign sound of music beginning to play from the stereo sitting atop the dresser.

"Springsteen? Really?" you remarked from your place on the bed, now completely naked underneath his quilted blankets.

Eddie scoffed. "It's the radio, thank you very much."

Unbeknownst to you, “I’m On Fire” was something that would grow to haunt the both of you for years. At the time, though, you were only grateful for the music to drown out any of your sounds.

Nerves electric like a live wire, you welcomed him back into the bed, beneath the blankets. He laid beside you for several seconds. You heard the sound of a foil wrapper tearing.

Finally gathering the courage to ask him the most dreaded question, you just needed to know.

"Have you done this before?" you whispered.

His answer was quick, shaky, and brutally honest. "No. But wish me luck, yeah?"

And those were the last words spoken between you that night. Relief washed over you, knowing that you were both equally nervous, equally embarrassed at this point.

Eddie returned to you, chest to chest, and he rested one forearm behind your head for support. You weren't sure when he removed his boxers, but you could feel that he was naked now, braced right at your entrance. The warmth of his most private areas against yours made you feel less vulnerable.

Which made you pull his face down to you, kissing his cheek. You kissed his jaw, his lips, his eyelids, running a hand through his brown hair. It tangled for a second. His hair was getting so long since you first met him.

…but you were impatient.

You opted to not say the harsh words out loud - let's get this over with - you knew well enough about human anatomy that this would most likely be uncomfortable the first time around.

So you reached between your two bodies and guided him into you. His hips reacted benevolently, pushing forward slowly. Fire erupted into you - quickly, invasive. He emitted a gasp into your shoulder, pausing suddenly, but then he began to move again with a steady pace.

The pain was harsh but finished sooner than you thought, along with Eddie himself.

Why? Does he want his virginity back?

You would never regret it, not even for a second.

☾

Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

☾

(song lyrics credit: "I'm On Fire" by Bruce Springsteen)

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