#if hopper don’t fucking die in the finale to right the wrongs that have been committed ….

[rigginsstreet]

The way that sometimes I’m like “stranger things has established in their universe the dead don’t come back so billy is staying dead” but then I remember the shit they pulled with hopper and I’m immediately like “nvm it’s 100% plausible for billy to come back actually”

[jonathanssweatercollection]

i’m literally so unwell. it’s almost 6 am. here are my st livewatch thoughts:

THEY PLAYED CALIFORNIA DREAMIN FOR THE CALI GANG’S INTRODUCTION. I LOVE BEING RIGHT

eddie munson i desire you carnally

why is murray such a whore this season. i’m not judging i’m just curious

that’s it i need that stupid grandfather clock. i need it

why the fuck do the munson’s have so many hats on their wall

jonathan “good boy” byers

SO TRUE ARGYLE HE’S SUCH A GOOD BOY

“hi murray :D” jonathan byers i would kill for you

i’m gonna eat enzo’s little bitchboy moustache

robin and nancy are literally two halves of a whole autism

nancy makin fun of robin’s running. my smile hurts

THE RUNNING UP THAT HILL SCENE MADE ME FUCKING SOB LIKE A BABY. I FEEL LIKE I’M GONNA DIE. MAX MAYFIELD I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU

what the FUCK is brenner wearing. what the FUCK

his suit is so fruity i love it

i’m gonna throw up i’m gonna kill everyone that even looks at el what the fuck. i’m gonna chew brenner’s toupee off

NANCY MAX BONDING NANCY MAX BESTIES NANCY MAX INTERACTION

CAN EL CATCH A MOTHERFUCKING BREAK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHAT THE FUCK. I’M GOING TO KILL

SAM OWENS I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU HOW DARE YOU

jamie campbell-bower u are so creepy and hot <33

argyle and jonathan deserve to kiss. just a little kiss it won’t hurt anyone

omg okay byeler bonding and saying deep shit together on top of a car, paralleling jonathan and nancy doin the same in s2. so very true besties

omg no hopper can’t be blaming himself for sarah’s death. noooo sad little bald man :(

can yuri like die already lol

murray canonically beat the shit out of a teenager. obsessed with this man

stranger things more like trauma things amirite haha. i’m in pain

are these idiots not even going to change out of their funeral attire. theyre gonna get their clothes dirty

dustin u are so annoying <3 said with love and affection

YES YES STONCY CRUMBS THANK GOD I HAVE SOME SUBSTANCE

steve babygirl you are SOOOOOOO stupid i love you

kate bush the true hero of stranger things

okay in the creel house scenes sometimes max’s collar is up and then it’s down in the very next shot. poor direction on the duffers’ part. 0/5 stars /j

i’m so glad that brett gelman gets to throw his whole gelussy into his performance this season. literally good for him

how dare brenner boop el’s nose. i’m going to throw a fit

omg steve looks so good in that mustard sweatshirt. im so fucking gay

this mormon house is literally my worst fucking nightmare

THEY MENTIONED KALI. THEY SHOWED US BABY KALI AGAIN

LUMAX STAN ROBIN REAL

let me guess the lab’s freaky orderly is 001. if i’m wrong i’ll be upset

“what’s the internet” “don’t worry about it” best interaction of the season

“your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital waoaiauh”

steve babygirl please don’t drown

FUCK nancy’s awesome fit has just been ruined i’m so fucking upset. my girl looked so good

SCRATCH THAT SHE LOOKS BETTER LIKE A FERAL WET CAT BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF DEMOBATS

owens and brenner are so divorced

el deserves to get her powers back tenfold and kill brenner in every horrific and painful way possible. like as a treat

NANCY BANDAGING STEVE’S WOUNDS AND ASKING IF ITS TOO TIGHT PARALLELING HER BANDAGING JONATHAN’S CIT HAND IN SEASON ONE. STONCY REAL I’M TELLING YOU STONCY REAL

nancy wheeler has guns. in her bedroom

are hopper and enzo gonna fuck. and then is enzo gonna die

ugh they better not keep harping on about steve getting back together w nancy if theyre not gonna make stoncy happen. i’ll throw up if they just revert back on themselves and make steve/nance happen again and just shit on jonathan’s character

WAIT THE FLASHCARDS FROM SEASON ONE. WAIT WAIT THE GOOFY PLUSHY WAIT I CAN’T COPE WITH THESE CALLBACKS I’M GONNA BE SICK

what the fuck i can’t believe the time travel theories were kind of right

omg are they finally gonna explain how will communicated in s1 when he was in the upside down omg this shit RULES

oh god the “hi” scene is gonna kill me

can officer callahan like die already i fuckin hate that guy lol. and the irony of him doing a carrie reference by calling the kids “little pigs” isn’t lost on me

ARE. ARE THEY SERIOUSLY IN A BOILER ROOM. THESE FUCKERS LOVE NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET SO MUCH

i fucking CALLED it i KNEW the creepy orderly was 001 i fucking KNEW IT

NANCY NO NO NO NO NANCY WHAT THE FUCK NANCY BABY NO WHAT THE FUCK NANCY NO NO WHAT NO BABY WHAT THE FUCK NO I’M GONNA FUCKING THROW UP PLEASE GOD NO NO WHAT THE FUCK NO NO PLEASE NO NANCY BABY IF THEY KILL MY GIRL I WILL BE OUT FOR BLOOD

wait omg omg what wait. jamie cambell bower is also the freaky creel kid

NOOOOOOO POOR BUNNY NOOOOOO POOR LITTLE BABY BUNNY RABBIT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

omg brenner’s brown wig is so fuckin stupid looking

omg theyre literally doing revenge of the sith. that’s LITERALLY what they’re doing

lol the cgi. bestie no

THAT’S IT ???????????????

[neonponders]

I’ve never written Murder Boyfriends before, but @cuepickle ‘s art is just so lovely and powerful.

Based on this and this 💗 💜 🖤 (impending smut ahoy)

• • • • • • •

I just want to help, he’d said.

I just want to make things right, he’d said.

Steve said a lot of things. But he moaned incoherent words and exclaimed sounds he didn’t want anyone else to hear when Billy Hargrove steamrolled into his life, his feelings, and his goddamn morals.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t...right. He was twelve different shades of wrong, punctuated by Caribbean blue eyes and decorated with bronzed waves and curls. Steve knew he had a superiority complex, but he hadn’t known it was this bad.

Thing is, if he’d known, Steve couldn’t guarantee whether he’d change anything. Because knowing Billy Hargrove is a murderer would also mean Steve knew what his lips tasted like, and their softness against his neck.

All Steve had known was that Sheriff Hopper was missing, and his parents, being the upstanding white people that they are, deferred nearly every inconvenience to the police. And the police answered, because fat wallets keep their lights on, like everyone else.

But the Sheriff’s phones kept ringing. And maybe Steve had his own complex after so much time with Nancy, because he parked out front and strolled right into the Sheriff’s office.

The secretary wasn’t there.

Neither were the two deputies.

Steve tucked himself between the desks to pry apart the window blinds. Their cars were still here -

Steve’s head rotated at a sound he knew. He knew it in the way a memory piqued but he couldn’t place where or why. He followed it into the chief’s office...where Billy Hargrove sat at the desk - Hopper’s own chair - and ate a crisp apple from the strange pile in the waste paper basket.

“Billy?”

“Hi, Steve,” he smiled. Ankles crossed on the desk. A perfect, violet crescent framed the side of his eye. An indigo shadow rested in the inner corner of the other one. Either way, Steve’s first red flag was that he ached with concern more than itched for the nailed bat in his trunk.

“What happened to you?”

Steve thought the guy might choke, the way he tipped his head back to laugh while chunks of apple sat in his mouth. Naturally, it took him some time to chew and swallow before he said, “I finally stopped being afraid. And I started being responsible. Not the way he planned, though.”

“Hopper?” Steve frowned.

Billy did not answer immediately. He licked the apple like it might drip juice and beckoned, “Why don’t you sit down? I want to see you.”

The only lights on were in the main room where Steve stood. Ghoulish, fluorescent bulbs while Billy sat in shadow and vague, evening light hatching through the Chief’s window blinds. There was some kind of irony there: Steve in the fake, green-tinged light, and Billy in the natural...honest darkness.

Steve peeked behind him, surveying the room but finding no warnings apart from the negative space where people should be.

He stepped into the office -

“I’ve always liked looking at you.”

Steve paused on the carpet. Billy had said it loud enough to hear, but with enough air in it that Steve couldn’t tell if he was drunk or hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Then he tried to sit in one of the chairs -

“Over here. Sit on the desk.”

“What?” Steve blinked at him, suddenly very aware that the light gave Billy full view of his face but Steve only got the glow in that dark blond hair.

A strong leg pushed Billy away from the desk. The apple tumbled onto its pile of brothers, discarded as he pat the desk. “Sit right here.”

Steve shook his head all at once, beginning to backpedal out of the room. “This is weird.”

“No shit. This whole town’s weird. I’ve been reading some personal files in this room. I guess the Chief thought he was being smart, but...I’ve been hiding my whole life. I know where people hide things. A lot of things make sense in this place, now. The rat pack Max hangs out with. And you. A lot of things makes sense about you, Steve.”

Steve shrugged and his hands clapped against his thighs. “Okay? You’re not special for seeing my report cards.”

Billy’s features froze, but only for a moment, and then laughter burst out of him. “Steve, please sit down. God, I wanna touch you.”

Steve Harrington is a simple person. He’d officially been single for far too long, struck out every time he faced a woman - and a couple guys who were too scared or oblivious to do anything - and he just...

He wanted.

He wanted to be touched and if Billy was offering - Hot Stuff Hargrove, Baby Doll Eyes Billy - then Steve couldn’t help but take. He’d been so patient with everyone. He waited for Nancy to be ready. He accepted defeat when everyone walked away from him with rolling eyes or obligatory smiles.

Billy...talked. He talked and talked. He’d always been a talker; on the basketball court, barking orders as a lifeguard. Always talking, or letting his radio talk for him.

But Steve sat on Hopper’s desk and felt the warmth of Billy’s palms seep through his jeans. He held onto Steve’s calves as he talked. Talked about terrible things. Broken plates and abandoned things. Being the abandoned thing. Being the broken thing. He talked for hours before finally fucking Steve on that desk.

He’d started slow. Just unbuttoning the jeans and then leaving them alone. It would be another half hour before he took off Steve’s shoes. Every time Steve looked behind him - as if asking for someone to come in, to interrupt, to break this dark dream Billy wove around him - Billy said, “Look at me.”

“I’ve been looking at you, Billy.”

A small smile twitched on his lips. “Good.”

It would be another hour before he said, “I think my dad killed my mom.”

Less than a minute before he added, “He had it coming. Feel bad for my step-mom, though. But she was a screamer. So was the tall deputy. Things can finally be quiet now.”

Steve sat very still as arms circled around his pelvis and Billy just...hugged him. Pressed his face against Steve’s soft belly and inhaled his scent. Warm laundry and Steve Steve Steve.

He couldn’t be sure how things evolved into sex. Steve was already trapped in Billy’s web, so all he had to do was decide, to give the web a pluck and Steve felt the vibrations.

He planted his hands on the desk, lifting his ass for Billy to wrench the jeans and underwear off in one go. They got stuck on Steve’s feet, bunched up so Steve had to figure it out himself as Billy pressed himself over top of him.

The green desk lamp fell with an ominous clank.

Steve finally got a leg free and wrapped it around Billy’s ass the same time teeth found his neck. The warning bells that had been ringing since he got here felt far away; church bells too high over the town to actually make a difference in the goings-on.

Billy marked him up like he had paperwork to sign. Steve’s deed was his, and Billy moaned and grunted with every sigh he wrung out of Steve. Every squeeze to his waist made him moan, and he outright whimpered when Billy licked up his neck. For how much Billy gripped, bit, and sucked, he moved surprisingly gently below the belt.

“Gonna get lube later,” he said in that way again, traveling down Steve’s body as his thoughts escaped into the air. “I’m going to have your ass every which way, Harrington.”

Steve could only gasp as his tongue shoved inside him with no preamble. “I-I-I didn’t shower - ”

A guttural, breathy hum ricocheted from Billy’s throat and into Steve’s chest, knocking Steve’s head back like a rock on the way there. Billy’s stubble and gross wetness made Steve feel filthy in the best way. His cock lay heavily on his abdomen, spurting precum every time Billy’s hands squeezed the backs of his thighs.

Steve came like he’d never been touched in his life. His breathing picked up and he rutted against Billy’s face twice before making a mess of his shirt.

Billy took his slowly fading erection into his mouth, jerking himself off almost violently in a matter of seconds.

When Steve stepped outside, the air smelled like the sunrise even though only the faintest bit of blue had begun to dilute the darkness. And as the sun rose, Steve had never felt worse. It was like seeing a demogorgon for the first time, but instead of minutes, it stretched into hours.

People were dead.

Presumably Chief Hopper too.

Billy, he...he...

He showed up to Steve’s house with a smile and freshly laundered clothes. Steve had showered but looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. Billy only tipped his head back toward his car. “I’ve got two bank accounts freshly inherited. Let me buy you lunch.”

Steve wondered if Dustin’s comic book villains drove Camaros.

Billy bought him lunch. Bought him a chocolate milkshake too. Steve didn’t want to think about his ability to swallow those down so easily. Or how he interacted with the waitress like he wasn’t covered in red and brown love bites delivered directly atop Chief Hopper’s desk. He didn’t want to think what having all of Billy Hargrove’s attention on him did to his squirming...pleased...insides.

He didn’t want to think as Billy fingered him in the backseat.

They didn’t even fit back there but Billy moved with what felt like the strength of three men. It was arousing, being manhandled like that; any fear Steve ought to have held in his gut tapped its disapproving toe outside of the vehicle. The way Billy sucked behind his ear, gripped his hips so he could slot himself right in between Steve’s legs and rut his dark pink erection against Steve’s...

The way he bought Steve more milkshakes.

And a fresh tire rotation because his car veered to the left.

And filled him up in the darkness of Steve’s bedroom, making Steve bounce on his cock as he licked the taste of him off his lubed up fingers - 

“You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

It just...came out.

The husky lust cleared from Billy’s eyes when Steve said that. Terror must have filled Steve’s eyes because Billy gently cradled the side of his head.

This is it. This is how I die. Wanting a freaking kiss from a psycho -

“I thought you’d be the one to do that.”

Steve blinked vacantly at him. He could feel Billy’s heartbeat inside his ass and the guy just smiled -

“King Steve. Never thought you were shy - mmph.”

Billy’s bravado melted against Steve’s mouth. He hummed as he felt Steve’s precum on his belly, soaking them both with what he did to him, did to Steve and all of his flawed moral systems.

Steve pushed Billy onto his back with his kiss, tongue desperately tasting and exploring his mouth as his fingers laced behind Billy’s neck.

Until Billy reached up and pulled Steve’s hands apart, just enough for the bases of his palms to sit on both pulse points.

Billy did it himself: made his cheeks go pink and his chest flush red. But Steve made his ass slap against Billy’s thighs. Made Billy’s jaw go slack and his orgasm slow. Made his eyes water and his chest heave when he could breathe again.

Maybe that was his chance. His chance to make things right.

But with an empty Sheriff’s office down the road, and still no one the wiser, Hawkins wasn’t living by any sort of right anymore. The only right that Steve knew, was Billy’s hands making him feel powerful and precious.

[captinsteveharrington]

1) Steddie Engagement/Wedding

(Lots of background before all the cute shit…sorry)

OKAY! First, most importantly, fuck the 1980s- EVERYONE makes it out of 1986, Max and Eddie are fine! By 1990, Steve and Eddie are ready to leave Hawkins, Indiana in general.

Steve wants to go to New York, he’s tired of the slowness of the ‘southern’ US, he wants to feel the drive of a big city, and he’s convinced it’s progressive. (He’s not wrong but he’s also not right)

Eddie wants The West Coast dream, to be as FAR away from Hawkins as he can get, he’s also heard about all these celebrities that live and die for California.

They end up not being sure what to choose because The Kids are divided:

Max, El, and Will want to go to California for college. Max wants to get back to the sand and the sun, it’s her home and she misses it. Will wants to go to school there half bc it’s where he started accepting himself and half bc that’s where Mike isn’t (they’re not in a good place bc Mike still hasn’t figured out his shit), Jane is SO in love with Max and Will is her brother so she’s gonna go with them (even if Cali was rough for her the first time) plus Jonathan has already made a home for himself out there with Argyle. Johnathan is working for CNN as a photographer (The Kids don’t know it but they’re dating, he and Nance broke up on good terms, she needed to find herself outside a relationship and she’s very happy for John and Argyle they talk all the time)

Mike, Lucas, and Dustin want the East Coast. Massachusetts, for Mike and Dustin, bc of MIT. Lucas gets a scholarship to some school up there, he could’ve went to California but he wants to give Max a chance to figure out what she wants out of life (he’s such a good kid and he just wants her to be happy).

In the end, they decide on NYC bc Johnathan is in California to make sure Max, Jane, and Will are okay. They’re close enough to Mike, Dustin, and Lucas that if something goes down they can get to them but far enough away that they can have their own lives.

Lucas ends up in Brooklyn, he’s doing great in school, Dustin and Mike are thriving at MIT. Will, is doing great in art school. Jane is having fun in community college she’s making friends and has even met a few lesbian/bi women, Max is balls to the wall living her best life.

In the summer of 1991, Robin moves to NYC, she’s offered a job at The Smithsonian bc of her history degree. Nancy also follows Steve and Eddie out to East Coast, she gets a job in Chicago for The Tribune. Steve has finished his degree in Social Work, and he’s working for New York States Child Protective Services (they don’t know he’s in a relationship with Eddie for obvious reasons). Eddie works at a dive bar that he headlines at on the weekends.

By spring of 91’ Steve and Eddie have been together for four years and EVERYONE is pushing for them to make it official. Joyce is hearing all this stuff about Domestic Partnerships and she’s hoping that soon her boys will be able to have the same rights she and Hopper have. She’s really leading the charge in getting them married, Robin of course is backing her 100%. Steve and Eddie kind of brush it off bc they’re happy as they are. It’s like their own sexy secret, something they share and love and don’t have to explain to anyone else.

When the kids start graduating and finally get into the real world they all meet up at Steve and Eddie’s home. They’ve moved out of the city into a nice suburban neighborhood, close enough that they get all the night life and shit but far enough away that they feel safe with their not so kid children coming to stay with them. It’s the summer of 1997 at this point.

Jane convinces Hop and Joyce to come up to see everyone for a few weeks at the beginning of June. Each of the boys take turns talking to Steve and Eddie abt the potential of an engagement. It’s a very stressful first three days. By the end of that first week tho, Steve is ready to pop the question. Once the whole family is back together (John and Argyle included) he asks Eddie to be his husband over some of Hop’s ‘world famous’ stakes. Eddie of course says yes. Lots of happy tears follow.

Part 1/2

[queen-isabelle-writes]

My thoughts on Stranger Things S4 Vol. 2

Per popular demand (aka literally one person asked, and I jumped on it), here are my long-awaited thoughts on Vol. 2!!!

SPOILERS BELOW

-I love that El didn’t absolve Brenner of everything that he did to her, despite his begging. Her putting his hand down and walking away nearly made me cry

-Eddie’s death was pointless, and I will die on that hill

-Mike’s character has been so boring the past couple of seasons, and it’s really disappointing. I lowkey thought they were gonna kill him off this season bc they he literally had no purpose

-I was legit so surprised by Max’s death that I forgot it was the catalyst for the Bad Thing

-I was too busy crying

-legitimately sobbed during Max’s death -- the PERFORMANCES *chef’s kiss*

-and Eddie’s

-especially Dustin telling Eddie’s uncle about his death (catch me SOBBING)

-I have so many feelings about Eddie’s character and death

-lowkey surprised but happy that the Russian guard (Enzo/Dmitri?) survived -- definitely thought that he would succumb to the introduced-then-killed-by-finale fate (like Eddie :( )

-Hopper’s sword skills

-THE MUSIC DURING THAT SCENE MASHUP

-I need a three-hour playlist of just the Running Up That Hill/Stranger Things Theme

-Mike’s “I love you” monologue was so long while Vecna was in the process of killing Max. Like, he could have killed her four times over by the time Mike was done

-Will deserves every good thing

-I’m really hoping next season is his season

-Is Dr. Owens okay?

-Jason’s death was very anticlimactic and unnecessary and overall I just didn’t care???

-I literally didn’t care about him at all at any point during this season

-I also hate that he died thinking he was right and justified

-I hope he gets to the afterlife and Chrissy is like “I did go to buy drugs”

-and maybe she and Eddie can be happy together idk

-I like the idea of Eddie and Chrissy bc they had such good chemistry and they were really sweet together

-but I also liked Steddie don’t get me wrong

-I was so terrified they were going to kill Lucas (partially bc I was so convinced they were NOT going to kill Max, but look at me clowning)

-is it bad that I do not care about a single romance in this show?

-aside from Robin and Vicki (or Nancy???)/Max and Lucas

-like Joyce and Hopper deserve happiness, but I don’t wanna see them make out I’m so sorry

-also when that jock pinned Erica down on the ground and threatened to break her arm??? I was about to throw hands

-she is 11 what the fuck is wrong with you, you are like 18

That’s all I have right now, but I might have more later who knows

[heavenbarnes]

when it’s that time of night

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, fully clothed sex, implied age gap, canon-typical spookiness

Word Count: 3.4k

i finally finished stranger things and i’m just as hot for hawkins chief of police as i was when i started, so here we are x

Gathered around Joyce Byers' kitchen table, your gaze flickered between the comotion unfolding in front of you, and Hopper. Things had undeniably changed since that evening, and those same things had only seemed to get, well, stranger. A silly part of you hoped that if you glared at him hard enough, things would start to become clear.

"I wouldn't normally do this, but you're about one of the only people I can trust."

Jim stood on your doorstep with three of the neighborhood kids, and one young girl you'd not seen before. This was not something you anticipated when you started seeing Hopper, but nevertheless, you stepped aside and let them in.

Maybe that was why he had brought them hear, because it was in your nature to care more about their safety than what made sense. You let the kids have your TV remote and flick through your records, before you turned back to Hopper with a kind of expression that said "you do this with all the girls that let you sleepover?"

And after that, in all hushed tones in your very small kitchen, Jim divulged tales of disappearing children and ones that could move things with their mind.

"I just need you to keep them safe for a few hours, then I'll explain even more."

As much as he did explain, you felt like the more you saw and heard, the less you knew. Listening to these kids, try to tell you that Joyce's son had been kidnapped by the monster from their boardgame? You felt like you needed to lay down a while.

Your skills ranged from serving diner meals on rollerskates, and driving the neighborhood boys crazy in the process. You weren't sure how you'd fear as a monster hunter. Young Jonathan Byers snapped you from your thoughts by throwing a theory out to the group.

"So for us to strike whilst the iron is hottest, we'd just need to know when it will all start happening again?" 

Everyone murmured in agreement but Hopper wasn't having it.

"Ok, so when exactly would that be? Are you going to tell me there is just a time that these things are all going to kick off?"

Your ears pricked up and suddenly your mouth was opening before your brain could catch it.

"Three in the morning." That had everyone's eyes on you.

Not used to hearing you join in on these things, Hopper prompted you to carry on.

You pushed up off the wall you were leaning against and spoke again. "Three in the morning, the witching hour."

"What is the witching hour?" Jonathan pressed you further.

"My Grandmother used to tell me about it, in folklore they say that three in the morning is the witching hour." You stepped further towards the table where they had all congregated.

"It's when the veil between this part of the world," One of your hands lay flat beneath your chin, whilst the other lay palm turned up in line with your belly "And this part of the world,"

"Like Australia?" Dustin questioned, receiving a smack in the arm from Mike.

"No, like the underworld or what you guys call the upside down, it's when the veil between the two is at it's thinnest allowing the unforgiving to travel through."

They all looked from each other and back to you, beginning to fear that you might be onto something.

"Believe me, I work in a 24-hour diner, if things are going to get strange it's going to be at three in the morning."

"What kind of strange?" Joyce spun round at that comment, a sort of pleading in her eyes.

"The lights will pulse, and the machines will start to get these electricity surges, I hate working the nights in there." The look she gave you began to prick the hairs on the back of your neck. "Why are you looking like I've just laid the last piece in your puzzle?"

"Because I think you just have."

Ever since you spoke the witching hour theory into existence, you hadn't been able to get it off your mind. That very next day, your boss called the house and told you that you'd be on the night shift, and Veronica's kid had mono so you'd be doing it alone.

Something told you that you'd made a mistake speaking it outloud, that now this- well whatever this was, but now that it knew you knew it's secrets, it was onto you. However that could've all been crazy, and maybe Hawkins was getting lazy with it's electrical and it just got screwy when they thought everyone was sleeping.

Regardless, it was now 1.41am and there wasn't a customer in sight. It was just you, the empty diner, and the fast approaching witching hour. For the first time in your life, you actually wished one of the town's teenage boys would come in and hound your for a date, just so you had some company.

You resorted to wiping down the counter for about the 30th time that night, a spot of mess at the one of the back booths catching your eye. Leaving the counter, you roller-skated down the back of the store and cleaned up the leftover baskets and napkins. You were bent over the table, flicking the the cloth over the surface when you heard it. The bell on the door.

Your blood rain cold and just about every hair on your body stood on end. An unexplainable feeling drifted over you, that feeling when you know it's all gone wrong, but there just isn't anything you can do about it. That feeling enveloped you and it took over you, you couldn't even bring yourself to turn your head.

Heavy, heavy steps were heading your way and you knew it was do or die. You could try shoot the gap to the backroom, that or beat whatever it was with your bare hands. As it got closer you geared up all your strength and spun around on your skate in an instant.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU STUPID FUCKING-"

"GOD, PUT YOUR ARMS DOWN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Hopper gripped your wrists and stilled you moments before you lay your fists in his eye sockets. Your breathing slowly came back down to a normal pace, but you could still feel your pulse rattling around in your body. Of course it was just Hopper, of course it wasn't a boardgame monster stopping by for a snack.

"What are you doing here?" You still sounded exasperated as you pulled your arms from his grip and threw yourself into his chest.

He brought both his arms around your shoulders and pulled you further into him, giving you a moment to calm yourself down. "I came in to keep you company, I know you've been a little on edge since you brought up that shit at the Byers' house."

"God, thank you so much, I'm sorry for trying to beat you to death." Voice muffled by his chest, your sentiments were still appreciated.

He brought you back down to the front of the shop and you took one side of the counter each. Fixing him a coffee as a half-hearted apology for the near miss, you slid it across the counter to take place of an olive branch. He accepted with a grin, unable to stay mad at you, even when you're trying to knock his teeth out.

"I am actually so sorry, I really have been on edge, I don't know why." Your head fell into your hands, gently tugging at your own hair.

"Hey, hey come here." He called you around the counter, turning around in his stool as you got closer.

Pulling you between his spread legs, you settled back into his hold, allowing those big hands to rub down the spanse of your back. Even his touch alone could soothe you, even when you were still a little terrified of a time on the clock. His hands moved to your lower back, gently rubbing away all the tensions you'd held inside you for sometime.

There was something about Hopper, from the moment you finally let him drive you home after a shift, giving in to his multitudes of compliments about your roller-skates and your coffee pouring and your little uniform. He was warm and he was kind, he made you laugh and he felt good when he wrapped himself around you. Oh, and it couldn't be forgotten that the Hawkins Chief of Police was unbelievable in the sack.

"You got any customers tonight?" His voice rumbled against your whole body, sounding from deep insdie his chest.

You pushed back from him, letting his hands fall to your waist and your eyes meet, your fingers played with the buttons of his uniform.

"Not since 11.30, and I won't see anymore, I never do." You sighed, tipping your head back with a petty groan. "I still don't know why they have me here so late."

Hopper's hands drifted lower, ever so slightly, until his fingers were toying with the hem of your dress. The gentle touch pricked your skin up, understanding from a touch alone exactly what his intentions were. You kept your gaze fixed on his, a look in your eye that almost seemed to say "go for it."

One of his hands took yours, long fingers slotting between yours as he pulled you out from between his legs. Your roller-skates glided you easily along the linoleum floor, putting you out in front of him.

"Do a twirl for me?" His mouth quirked up into a smirk, making a heat rise up your neck and settle at your cheeks.

You didn't so much agree as he did it for you, lifting your arm and twirling you around on the wheels of your skates. If your dress wasn't so tight, it would've spun around you, but your apron did it for you. An unmissable grin spread across Jim's face, watching your little pose at the end as you both giggled.

"I believe they have you here so late to keep you in this little uniform just a bit longer." His voice was gruff, pulling you towards him again.

"Oh is that what it is?"

"That is what it is," His hands went back to the hem and seemed to sneak under it. "It's to make life harder for me."

"So, this is about you?"

"All about me, it's so I have to sit at home and just think about your pretty ass skating around in this tiny fucking dress, and there isn't anything I can do about it."

It got hotter in the diner, right in that very moment, you could feel it spreading across your body as you lent into him. Your lips ghosted just moments above his, so close he could feel your breath on his skin.

"Well you aren't at home now," You whispered, very nearly placing your lips on his. "What are you 'gonna do about it?"

He didn't have to tell you, it was rather a display to show you what he'd do. His lips came to yours, his signature was a domineering kiss that left you reeling an unable to think of anything else afterwards. His kisses left a hold over you, the way his tongue felt against yours, the way his hands moved against you. This man had you good.

Standing up from the stool, he wrapped one hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him in one swift movement. Your hands went up to his jaw, feeling his coarse beard under your fingers as you pulled his face closer to yours. One of your hands took his hat from the top of his head and hung it off the register beside you.

Hopper kept his hand on your waist, and left the other go beneath your thigh. In one swift motion he lifted you, placing you down on the counter before pushing the skirt of your dress up your legs. With a hand on each knee, he spread them apart and pulled you right to the edge, pushing himself between them to get even closer.

You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him handling you like his brought a wave over you, making your legs shake around him. One of his hands traveled higher up your thigh, making it's way past the bunched fabric and between your legs. Two fingers pressed firmly against the seat of your underwear and it was made apparent, just how wet he'd gotten you.

"Fuck, little lady you are always so good for me, aren't you?" His voice was nearly a bark, lips moving down your jaw and to your throat.

"I try my best, chief."

His motions stopped at the sound of that name, and within in instant he was pulling your underwear down your legs. It hung around one of your roller-skates as he pushed both your legs over his broad shoulders, leaning you back till you were perched up on your elbows.

Hopper's mouth found the meeting of your thighs, his tongue coming out to lick a fine stripe along your heat. Your mouth fell open and your hands flew to his head, fingers threading into his hair as he began to move his tongue against you.

Gasps and nearly pathetic whimpers fell from your lips as he worked against your clit, rolling it against his tongue with unreal precision. The only word leaving your lips was his title, the sound of chief filled the diner and bounced off the windows.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding them apart as your body willed you to clamp them around his head. Your hips rolled forward, pressing you further into his mouth as his tongue moved down further before coming back up to that one spot.

So quickly, you could already feel that tension building inside you, a fine line of pleasure that was ready to snap. His eyes rose up to you, locking with you and making about every muscle inside you tighten. That look in his eye, it could've killed you the way you knew exactly what it meant.

He had a sweet tooth only you were pretty enough to sate.

One of his hands left your thigh and moved below the counter, you listened to the sound of his belt buckle as he haphazardly undid it one-handed. You heard his fly next and it was incredibly apparent that he was palming himself as his tongue still moved against you.

The thought, the image in your mind, the sounds he made as he moaned against your wetness it was all too much. Your head tipped back, fingers tightened in his hair as you cried out for him. You felt that line snap as your release washed over you.

Hopper never let up, lips still pursed around your clit as you rode out your high, nearly overtaking you. He never went to far, always new the line and he pulled back as he stood to full height. Your legs fell to his sides and you looked up to see him grasping himself in his hand.

His other hand trailed against your sensitive heat, two fingers dragging through the wetness that remained there.

"You have the sweetest fucking pussy I've ever got my hands on." He growled as he dove in for a kiss, the taste of you ever present on his lips.

He took that hand from between your legs and used it to slick up his cock, twisting your wetness around himself as he lay his head at your entrance. He dragged it along your sensitive cunt, before slowly pushing his way in.

The gasp that fell from you was iminent, Jim had a stretch like nothing else. Your body relaxed into this kiss and into him until he was hip-deep within you.

"And your pussy is so fucking tight, I can't believe how lucky I got." 

"It's all for you, chief, fuck me like you mean it."

So he did, his hands slid to the other side of the counter and gripped the edge before he delivered the first incredible blow. Your back arched up and a cry was ripped from within you as he pumped his hips quickly against your own.

Your hands shot up to grip his arms, feeling the muscles tensing beneath the cotton of his work shirt. Legs tensing up around his hips, moans and whimpers still steadily coming from you, it only seemed to spur him on like he was listening for the way you fell apart for him.

"You look so good taking my cock, pretty girl." He huffed, one hand leaving the counter to come and grip your hip.

He pulled you back against him with every thrust, striking deep inside you and rolling your eyes back in your head. Still on edge from the flood of pleasure he had just dipped you in, you felt like you were right there, teetering on the edge and waiting to be pushed over.

Always knowing exactly what he was doing, exactly what would drive you crazy and have you falling apart around him. Maybe this is what it had all been about, that talk about being with an older man, you'd heard the stories and he'd proven them all right.

From the moment you'd started sleeping over with each other, Hopper had changed your life. You didn't know if you could go back to nights without getting your back blown out by Jim Hopper. He would always talk about how he couldn't believe he got a pretty young thing like yourself, but you didn't know how you'd lucked out on someone that made you feel the way he did.

Gripping onto his uniform and crying out for him, you felt that hand on your hip slip down to your clit, rubbing furious circles against it. Another moan of that name, that title that until you had said it, was nothing more than a work give name. Now, the way that you said it gave it a whole new meaning.

It had gotten so bad that he had to stop asking you to call him that in front of people, after he'd pitched a tent the day you visited him at the station. Now that was reserved for teasing.

The way he touched you, how he knew your body, it had you dangerously close to coming undone for him once again that evening. Your heat clenched around him, dragging him in with a raw cry ripping out of your throat and rising above the both of you.

That line snapped once more and you couldn't help the way your hips rose from the counter and your body twitched under the mountain of pleasure. Over the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears, you could hear the words of encouragement coming from Hopper.

He rode out your high with you again, pulling you back against him and refusing to let up as you felt him faltering slightly. "That's my good girl, 'gonna make me come."

You reached your hands up his chest, pulling against his shirt as you arched your back for him again. Your lips pursed as you mustered the strength to call out to him.

"Come for me, chief."

And that was enough to do it for him, his hips stilling tight against you as he came deep in you. Grunts and chopped cries of your name could be heard as he pulled you flush towards his chest, arms wrapped under your back as his heart hammered against both of your chests.

He let you back down from the counter, fixing himself as you pulled up your underwear and smoothed out your uniform. You placed his hat back on his head as he sat back on the stool, before you slotted back between his thighs.

As he wrapped his arms back around you, you heard, and then you saw it. That electrical pulsing, that buzzing that seemed to come from the lightbulbs. Right as your heart-rates had just come back as they should, you physically felt yours pick up again.

"Baby, what'd you call that damn time again?"

Your eyes moved from the flickering lights to the big clock on the wall, the one you usually focused on for your breaks. The hands were pointing clear as day, three in the morning.

"The witching hour."

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

hewwo... <3 if i could, i'd wuv to request yaguruma and kageyama with the song 'it's not a fashion statement, it's a deathwish' by my chemical romance - but if you don't like mcr which i totally get then you can just pick whatever song you like!!! i just love those two little guys and the way you write them...

Hewwo to you too! 💜💜💜 I love MCR, but it is also my burden or curse or compulsion or something to make things that are somewhat grim slightly hopeful, and then go make hopeful things a little grim in exchange, and the Hoppers are definitely on the grim side. But, I saw this really cute piece of art a while ago, I think you were even the one reblogging it, of Yaguruma and a Worm Kageyama.

Song: "It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Deathwish," My Chemical Romance (Spotify)

coming back from the dead and i'll take you home with me

The light hurts Shun’s eyes when he wakes up, which seems wrong. He’s not sure why it seems wrong for a long, long moment, and then he realizes that it’s because he shouldn’t be waking at all. He should be dead. He even remembers dying, drifting away slowly leaning against Yaguruma’s shoulder and looking up at stars that had seemed bafflingly bright and glorious.

He shifts, and Yaguruma says, “So you’re finally awake. Took you long enough.”

Yaguruma’s voice is strange, hoarse, like he’s been having a coughing fit. That’s probably it, they spend a lot of time outside, Shun knows it’s not because he was crying even if it sort of sounds like that, and he blinks against the light a few times and says, “I didn’t die, bro?”

“I didn’t kill you.” As Shun’s eyes adjust to the light, he sees Yaguruma sitting across the alley from him, elbows on knees, watching him. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

“You don’t smoke, though. Why didn’t you kill me? You said—”

“I know what I said,” sharp and abrupt, “but I changed my mind. And I used to smoke, I haven’t since I was seventeen.”

“And I said—”

“I know what you said too.”

Shun pulls himself up more, rolls a crick out of his neck, leans back against the shipping container. The sunlight is warm; it’s sort of nice. He’s angry about not being dead, but it feels distant, somehow, like it’s waiting in line behind a lot of other feelings that are all trying to happen at once. “Why didn’t you kill me, though? If I’m a—”

He’s cut off again, this time not by a verbal interruption but because Yaguruma moves, shifting up into a crouch and leaning forward. Reaching out to trace the scar that cuts across his face with a fingertip, very gently. “You’ve got a scar, partner. That’s all.”

---

Arata’s making his way to the store with one of Tendou’s fussily precise grocery lists in hand when he spots two familiar figures across an intersection, one striding through the Saturday afternoon crowd with the other trailing in his wake. Or being towed along, actually—their hands are joined, Kageyama’s head ducked into the collar of his coat like he’s trying to hide, Yaguruma leading him.

Startled, Arata stares for a moment, and then takes advantage of a break in traffic to hurry across the street after them. They’d dropped off the radar entirely right before things ended; occasionally he’s found himself worrying vaguely that one or both of them might have been killed. He’s not overly fond of either of them, but knowing that they’re not dead is weirdly comforting after everything that happened.

Yaguruma’s got a long stride and Kageyama’s apparently willing to hurry to match him, so it takes another half a block before Arata catches up to them. They duck into a side street, basically an alley, and he reaches it a moment later, not at all out of breath but a little surprised at his own desire to confirm that they are, in fact, alive. He turns the corner into the mouth of the alley and stops dead, hand moving reflexively to reach out for a Zecter that isn’t coming at the sight of Yaguruma facing down a hulking Worm.

Yaguruma doesn’t even glance over at him. “If you pull out your Zecter on my partner I’ll kill you, Kagami.”

“It’s—I haven’t got it, you just took me by surpri—wait, who’s your partner?”

Yaguruma ignores him, still focused on the Worm, speaking to it in a soft tone that Arata’s not sure he’s ever heard out of the man. “Are you going to be able to calm down with him gawking at us or should I kick him?”

The Worm speaks with a familiar voice. “I’m fine, bro.” A long pause of them standing together, the Worm and Yaguruma, and then the green form shudders and ripples and shrinks slowly down into Kageyama, still in his long black coat, still with the scar cutting across his face. His voice is much quieter now that he’s a human shape again. “It was just…really crowded.”

“Good. Keep it together,” but it sounds less like an admonishment and more…affectionate, almost. Then Yaguruma turns very slightly to look at Arata and says, eyebrows rising, “Did you want something?”

Arata shakes himself, trying to shed his surprise and probably not quite managing it. “No, no, I just. Thought I saw you across the street and wanted to make sure that it was you. I’m actually really glad to see that you’re both alive.”

Yaguruma…blinks. “Are you.”

“Well…yeah.”

Another slow blink, and then Yaguruma says, “So am I,” grabs Kageyama’s hand again, and stalks out of the alley with his usual slightly grim expression, towing Kageyama behind him.

[rigelsenshis]

the old guard + dæmons

a completely self-indulgent au bcos dæmons sit squarely in the Top Five Best Storytelling Concepts Ever Created and i will absolutely fight you on this it’s the hill i will die on

i made a post about this that evolved in a beautiful thread, with so many great ideas being shared by a lot of wonderful people, and then spent a couple of days thinking about possible shapes and possible names and this probably longer-than-comfortable post is the result of all that so i hope you enjoy let’s discuss let’s talk about this god i just love dæmons so much

first things first, some ground rules of how dæmons might work when taking into account the old guard’s particular flavor of immortality. @fleurdufeu suggested that the dæmon gets Severed with the person’s first death, the one that triggers immortality. and with each death (@en-sam-malas also brought this up) the dæmon can travel farther and farther away and can stay awake when their human is sleeping, contributing to the general idea of Otherness™ the old guard carries with them, especially in a world with a dæmons. @dearest--gertrude also suggested that just like the first deaths takes longer to return back from, dæmons would be slower to reappear— taking maybe two or three days the first time (which would add to the shock of having discovered immortality bcos like??? i’m alive??? and without my dæmon??? what the fuck???) to movie-time when the dæmon’s body is already there even before the human comes back to life. which only leads to the fact that when the final death comes the dæmon does disappear in a puff of golden dust like in hdm and creates a general wave of Angst (like i imagine that’s how Andy and Quynh knew that it was Lykon’s time, bcos his dæmon just disappeared and didn’t return)

@en-sam-malas added two Great Ideas, which is that most of the old guard would not have grown up with the taboo of not touching other people’s dæmons and so would use them in battle against other humans (which highlights their Otherness™ once again), and that their dæmons can probably undergo changes of shape— not as frequent as a child but following big traumatic events, like their first death, huge losses and grief and so on, and that’s the idea i’ve built on when looking for suitable shapes for each of them so here we fucking go (note that i did omit Lykon bcos we know so little of him atm but maybe when more material comes out we’ll be able to figure him out better???)

Nile

i’d like to think that as times grow more modern, dæmons’ names grow more modern as well— bcos Nile’s from Chicago, her dæmon could be called Jazz (bcos of the city’s history with the music genre) or Hopper (bcos Hopper’s Nighthawks is in Chicago and Nile loves art??? is it a stretch??? i’m open to better ideas for sure). her dæmon probably settled sometime after her father’s death into a german shepherd, as suggested by @stevie-harrington bcos in hdm many soldiers are shown to have a dog dæmon and dog dæmons are reliable and intelligent, pack animals that can hold their own in a fight. when she comes back from her first death Hopper is not with her, which only adds to the uneasiness the other marines feel around her bcos how tf is she alive without her dæmon this is just Wrong. he reappears when she wakes up in the back of the van, and it’s only on the plane that she realised that something is different about him and that he’s not exactly a german shepherd anymore— i’d like for his first changed shape to be one of those dogs that could be wolves and toy the line between the two (bcos it’s a bit more wild and also bcos i’d like Andy to have a wold dæmon and for Nile’s to resemble Andy’s since it’s vaguely implied she will take her place as leader of the old guard)

Booker

Booker’s dæmon is called Manette (which means “bitter”/”bitterness” and i mean,,,,nomen omen) and when it first settled it was a marmoset, as suggested by both @mewbotz and @fleurdufeu, an animal dexterous enough to help him with his forgeries and also deeply family oriented (marmosets mate for life are very involved in bringing up younglings which would make sense to Booker falling deep into desperation once his family passes). Manette changes the first time when he dies, and again @fleurdufeu suggests she could turn into a carrion crow to blend in with the others while Booker hangs for three/four days, brings him idk insects to eat and stays on his shoulder and they both cry bcos they don’t understand what happened to them and they feel each other but they’re also so different (crows are also family oriented and they mimic sounds so in theory she’s like her previous form but also with trauma and the imagery of death). she could turn into a cinereous vulture when the last members of Booker’s family die, reserved and passive and isolated, and then during movie-time she’s something even smaller, maybe even a mouse, bcos grief has twisted Booker into something that he himself cannot recognise and he sleeps with Manette in his hands like he used to do when she was a monkey and it feels almost the same but not quite. i’d assume that after the ordeal with Quynh she changes shape again, maybe if he starts healing up a bit??? 

Nicky + Joe

they go together bcos a) obviously and b) their dæmons have very similar stories and changes of shape so it makes sense for me to talk about them together

i called Nicky’s dæmon Glauca, which is a sort of shortening of the Homeric epithet given to the goddess Athena, glaukôpis aka bright-eyed (you get it??? like Nicky himself when will Luca’s eyes leave me in peace the answer is never). bcos he was born in a coastal city i’d like to his dæmon to have settled into a sea bird, and i chose the shape of a scopoli’s shearwater, a bird that’s native to Liguria and a good swimmer

i chose Zahara for Joe’s dæmon, a name that means most exquisite bcos i thought about the fact that he was an artist and a poet but i’m Very Much Open to more informed opinions than mine. Zahara’s first shape could have been a fennec, native to Northern Africa and a very outgoing kind of animal which i feel would match Joe’s personality

the first change for both of them is, again obviously, when they kill each other for the first time. when they find their dæmons again after having spent like three days in a blind rage and confusion and pain and where is my dæmon have it lost her what have i become it’s his fault they’re both smaller in dimension, bcos they’re in shock, and more vicious than their original shape, so i picked a stoat for Nicky and a genette for Joe— both small carnivores, native one to Europe and the other to North Africa, and they just tear into each other again for a not-better-specified amount of days it’s just sword scimitar teeth claws whatever. i then see Nicky and Joe sort of “making peace” and travelling together from Jerusalem to the sea, where they part ways, and the shock is so great, the reflection they go through when they’re apart so massive that causes another change, this one the farthest away from their “personality” as they struggle to understand who they are now and what they have become. Zahara becomes a blackbird and Glauca a cape hare, shapes that neither of them feel like are right

when they both start to make peace with what they have become and realise that there might be Feelings popping out, say like a couple of centuries after Jerusalem they’ve caught glimpses of each other in other Crusades and such, both dæmons change into cats. smaller cats for now, and when Joe and Nicky go and look for each other and find each other in Malta and realise that they love each other and share some poetic and lyrical declaration of eternal adoration they wake up and find their dæmons in similar shapes— big cats, like @mewbotz suggested. Joe’s dæmon settles into a leopard, majestic and sun-like, while Nicky’s becomes a panther, hiding in the shadows, fiercely protective and betraying Nicky’s nature of actually being a Pretty Dangerous Guy. and @mewbotz goes on to say that Joe and Nicky are so inseparable that their dæmons actually follow the other around, a way to always make sure they’re safe, and so it looks like Joe’s the one with Glauca the panther and Nicky’s the one with Zahara the leopard and in that way they’re never really apart and it’s Beautiful

Quynh

bcos they’re both so old, i have this idea that neither Quynh not Andy remember the actual very first shape their dæmon took (like Andy says that she doesn’t remember the faces of her sisters, for example). i’d like for him to be called Giao Long, a name lifted from Vietnamese myths about dragons, but again i only acquired this knowledge through internet searches so if anyone more informed wants to weigh in i’d be Very Happy

when Quynh’s riding with Andy, her dæmon is a crested serpent eagle, as suggested by @fleurdufeu, with the beautiful image of it flying close to Quynh’s arrow as it sails towards its target like @mewbotz said. the fact that their dæmons are so eerie and strange contribute to the English townspeople believing Quynh and Andy are witches, and when they throw Quynh overboard her dæmon is left flying above the water and it’s just a horrible cycle of madness with the dæmon changing shape to a bird to a fish to an insect reaching her into her cage flying above just mad with grief and pain like Quynh herself is

they find each other when she gets out but they’re both broken and twisted in an ugly way, and the dæmon has turned into something she can keep close— i’d partial to the idea of a snake bcos she was “a pit viper in a fight” and even tho they can separate like every other immortal they never do bcos the trauma is too great

Andy

i got Andy’s dæmon’s name from the Italian wikipedia page about Scythians and for the life of me i can’t find the same info in english but like, apparently there was a mythical/semi-mythical Scythian king called Colassai??? i find it a very fitting name and like Andy herself he could have shortened it to Cole in the modern age

Andy doesn’t remember his first shape (but i realised the deer was a pretty important animal in Scythian culture so maybe it could have been one???), but when she meets Lykon her dæmon is a wild boar— still an earthbound animal, brutal in a fight to match her axe-wielding fighting style. when she meets Quynh, their dæmons match (immortal wives and immortal husbands with matching dæmons for the win) and @fleurdufeu suggested it might be a golden eagle, The™ steppes’ predator

losing Quynh definitely triggers a change of shape and Andy’s dæmon becomes earthbound once again, as if Quynh’s death clipped its wings, and it become maybe a fox??? smaller, still vicious, still useful in a fight. then, when Andy’s in Australia with Achilles (as per the comics but also the movie bcos i think they showed Andy’s portrait in the cave) her dæmon could take the shape of an Australian-born animal, maybe a dingo??? and in movie-time her dæmon is a full out wolf, leader of the pack, brutal in a fight— and Nile’s dæmon slowly starts to resemble Andy’s wolf

and that’s the end of this dissertation-length monstrosity if you managed to get here wow i’m truly Moved

[magniloquent-raven]

Number 73 "take mine" I'm thinking jacket sharing with Harringrove (either offering the jacket) if you have time!! 💖 💖

so. it’s not jacket sharing, i hope that’s okay!! and it’s actually a sequel to your first prompt? @bambixxblue and i were talking about a fix-it sequel where billy comes back and im weak for fix-its so i ended up with this. it’s. angsty. but also. soft? idk, i hope u like it anyway!!

basically the premise is billy and hopper were both in russia and had to break out together. posted on ao3

—-

Max turned seventeen three weeks ago. It’s hard to keep track of the days sometimes but Billy’s pretty sure he’s right. It’s hard to wrap his brain around Max being seventeen. When he pictures her in his head she’s still a bratty twelve-year-old with skinned knees who doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.

He tells Hop. Tells him about the birthdays he was there for, wonders about the ones he wasn’t. Cries a little too. Funny how easy it is to do that now. It used to be an ordeal, would burn and claw at him until he broke. He’s too exhausted for that nowadays, lets his tears fall unfettered and ignores the shame that still sneaks up on him when he does.

They have to be quiet, always afraid of being caught again. Billy’s constantly looking over his shoulder, jumping at shadows. It’s stupid to risk it, for something so trivial, but he can’t stop the words from spilling out.

“You miss her.” It’s not a question. Hop doesn’t ask that kind of shit, he just knows. Which is why Billy doesn’t respond. Doesn’t have to.

He pats Billy’s shoulder awkwardly. It’s the clumsy kind of affection a father is supposed to offer and it sets Billy off again, tears dripping down his nose and cutting streaks through the dirt smeared on his cheeks.

They’re holed up in an abandoned warehouse this time. Waiting. Always waiting. The plan is to stow away in the next cargo hold with enough space but in the meantime they’re fugitives, laying low wherever they can find empty, forgotten places.

Hop tells him about El while they wait. Billy’s heard most of his stories by now, but he listens anyway. Listens to the wobble in his voice as he talks about teaching El to read, hears the question under it all, about whether he’ll ever see her again.

Billy wishes he had an answer.

~~

The first time Billy set foot in Hawkins, Indiana, he was seventeen, angry and wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else.

It’s three days after his twenty-second birthday the second time. An icy December evening, dark and windy. He’s exhausted. He hasn’t eaten in two days. He’s a patchwork tapestry of scars that weren’t there before, a battered effigy of the person he used to be, cobbled together with scraps of what he could salvage.

Hawkins is the same unremarkable, rinky-dink town it always was. Seeing it again is a relief and a punch in the gut all at once. It’s all he’s wanted for three years, but it’s terrifying.

They end up in Loch Nora, of all places. The Byers’ old house was empty, and going too far into town is risky. 

It doesn’t feel real. Standing on Steve Harrington’s front porch, suddenly all too aware of the layer of sweat and grime on his skin. This place is too clean, too quiet. Peaceful, in a way that can’t be true.

Billy chews on his thumbnail, stands behind Hopper while he bangs on the door. There are no cars in the driveway, which means at the very least Steve’s parents won’t answer the door. But there’s no guarantee that Steve even lives here anymore.

He’s getting antsy, glancing around, heart pounding.

Then the door swings open.

Billy is seventeen, half-drunk and stinking like beer, colder than he’ll let on because fucking Indiana and its shitty weather, wiping the drool from his chin when he spots him across a room, already half in love by the time he’s clambered over a couch to get a closer look.

He blinks. He’s twenty-two, pale and shivering, thumbnail still between his teeth, and Steve Harrington’s doe eyes still make him weak in the knees.

Steve’s hair is longer, brushing his shoulders, but other than that he doesn’t look any different. Except that he isn’t looking at Billy with thinly veiled contempt or anger.

“Hey, kid.” Hopper says. “Gonna let us inside, or what?”

Steve is silent. Staring, lips parted. One hand still on the doorknob, the other slack at his side. He sways dangerously, and Billy tenses, prepared to catch him if he falls over. He doesn’t, but Billy’s still itching to touch him.

“Am I dreaming?” Steve blurts, looking dazed, unable to decide who to look at and ending up unfocused and hazy.

Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants. The memory feels like someone else’s. A lifetime ago.

Billy bites down on his lip, battling an inexplicable, and slightly hysterical, urge to laugh.

“Dream about me often, Harrington?” Billy says, because apparently it takes more than nearly dying and spending three years as a fugitive to get over his inability to keep his mouth shut around pretty boys (or one in particular). Though now his voice comes out soft, quiet, betraying genuine sentiment. He’s not sure if that’s better or worse than the armor of taunts he used to cover that shit up with.

Probably worse.

Steve’s looking at him. Only him. Billy had almost forgotten how addictive that is. He watches Steve’s mouth open and close, tracks the way one corner curls up a little when he lets out a little disbelieving huff that isn’t quite a laugh. “More than you’d think,” he murmurs.

And Billy’s brain shuts off. There are a thousand questions stuck up there, but he can’t get a single one of them out because he’s too busy trying to get past, more than you’d think, echoing through his head in surround sound.

He’s startled out of his Steve-induced haze by Hopper’s pointed cough.

It seems like he’s not the only one, because Steve visibly flinches, “Right, shit,” he stammers, “Get—uh, get inside.” He ushers them in, glancing around, checking the street behind them.

The Harrington residence is one of those big fancy houses with more rooms than anyone could possibly need, but that means multiple bathrooms so Steve (as politely as possible) tells them they can both shower whenever they feel like it. And he fusses. A lot. All nervous hands clutching his elbows and teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek, eyes darting between Billy and Hopper like he’s sure they’ll vanish any second and never have been there at all.

Billy isn’t sure how to deal with it, so he avoids his eyes. Then misses looking at him.

An hour later they’re all in the kitchen. Billy keeps plucking at the sleeve of his borrowed sweatshirt, trying to keep calm. It’s too much, all at once. His skin feels raw, weird and tight. The overhead light is too bright, and the smell of Steve on everything is making him lightheaded. The soft detergent scent from his clothes, the shampoo Billy used when he showered (his hair is a lot longer than it used to be, it took forever to detangle it all).

Steve makes some calls. It’s late, too late to be calling people’s houses but he does it anyway.

Not long after, the front door bursts open.

Max is taller than he remembers. Rougher around the edges. Her hair is a choppy mess, auburn waves sticking out in every direction, curling around her ears, and there’s the sharp glimmer of silver in one lobe. She’s wearing a jean jacket with a torn elbow.

And she’s crying, messy and red-eyed, not bothering to wipe the snot from her nose.

“Where. The fuck. Have you been?” she sobs, shoulders shaking, and she practically trips forward in her hurry to throw her arms around Billy’s neck.

He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Feels unsteady, like he’ll fall to pieces if he moves wrong.

“I’m here now,” is all he can manage. She doesn’t need to hear about military hospitals and Russian prisons, about being kept in a cell, wondering if he’d ever see sunlight again… She doesn’t need that right now. Hell, he’s not ready to talk about it. Might never be.

He hugs her back, torn between wanting to squeeze as hard as he can, make sure she’s real, and being terrified of breaking her.

She still uses that shitty coconut-scented soap, and that’s what shatters him. He’s crying into her shoulder, clutching the back of her jacket. He used to dwarf her, remembers her being tiny and fragile, despite her fierceness, yet now she’s supporting his weight while he buckles.

They’ve never actually hugged before, he realizes, and that realization opens a door he wishes he could’ve left closed a little longer.

Guilt. Like undertow, pulling him back to harsh reality, cold steel gripping his heart, weighing it down. He should’ve been better. Treated her better. And now she’s here, crying like she actually missed him, and he doesn’t deserve it.

He pulls away, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes.

She’s still looking at him, hands on his shoulders, a wobbly smile on her face.

Billy is overwhelmed again. It must show, because suddenly Steve is at Max’s side, eyes gentle and his soft mouth pinched in a frown, “Max. Maybe give him some space.”

She clenches her jaw, probably physically holding back an argument, and nods, stepping back despite the reluctance written all over her face.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says, barely louder than a whisper. Then he can’t stop himself from saying it, again and again, gaze fixed on the floor, tears still dripping down his chin. He has to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood to finally stem the tide of apologies. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to will the world away.

“Billy.” Steve’s voice is soft. He has a nice voice, so Billy focuses on it, through all the angry buzzing in his ears. “Billy, I need you to nod if you’re listening.” He doesn’t want to, he wants to curl up and fucking die, anything but be a person right now because everything hurts and there isn’t enough air in this room and— “Billy?”

He bows his head, twitches, it’s barely a nod but it’s all he’s got.

“Okay, good. Can I touch your hand?”

Billy’s heart stutters, aches. He’s having a hard time concentrating through the burn in the back of his throat, the static drowning out his thoughts. He nods again.

Steve’s fingers are gentle, pulling Billy’s hand from where it had tangled in his hair. He hadn’t noticed the fingernails digging into his scalp until Steve took one of his hands away. It ends up pressed against something warm, soft material under his fingers, moving slow—oh. His hand is on Steve’s chest.

“Can you breathe with me? Concentrate on me, okay?”

He does.

Steve’s cradling his hand. He’s got callouses along the top of his palm, barely there but present. He’s breathing deep, calm and steady. But despite his outward demeanour his heart is racing, Billy can feel it through his shirt. He curls his fingers into the sensation, fingertips digging in as far as he can push them.

Billy almost forgets to breathe he’s so fixated on Steve’s heartbeat.

It does its job either way though, because exhaustion is starting to hit him as the static recedes. He sags, relaxes. Every muscle in his body feels leaden.

He opens his eyes, squints against the sudden light.

He’s almost afraid to look up. Afraid of being judged, of triggering another episode, so fucking terrified, all the time—

“Billy?”

His fingers twitch reflexively, tightening his grip on Steve’s polo.

“You good?” His voice is still so soft, and so close it hurts.

It takes several long moments for Billy to collect himself. Then he looks up.

Max is hovering, standing behind Steve with wide eyes, her worry palpable. Hopper looks grim, but then again, he kind of always does. He’s a respectable distance away, watching. And Steve… Steve is right there still, holding Billy’s hand and looking at him like he cares, doe eyes shining, fixed on Billy’s face.

“I’m okay,” Billy says, voice rough. He sounds like hell, but they all visibly relax anyway.

The room is silent for too long after that. It feels tense in a distant way, like it would be awkward if Billy had the energy to care, was awake enough to feel anything but vaguely fuzzy. He’s still got a handful of shirt and doesn’t plan on letting go any time soon. Steve’s the only thing keeping him upright, and he hasn’t let go either.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Max asks, her voice is small and tremulous and cuts right through Billy.

“No!” he’s quick to cut in, “No. Max. It’s…” Billy trembles, stutters to a stop. He has no idea how to explain, even to himself, let alone Max. Steve squeezes his hand. His stomach flips. “It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him, but she doesn’t argue. He wishes he could make it better, but he’s got no idea how.

“We should all get some sleep,” Steve says.

And that’s that. His tone brooks no argument, even in a room full of stubborn assholes. Apparently, the past few years have given Steve time to hone his babysitting skills. Or maybe they’re all just as exhausted as Billy is.

There’s some squabbling about sleeping arrangements though.

Everyone insists Hopper take the master bedroom, Steve says his parents won’t know or care, his old friends did worse than sleep in that bed. They all poke at him until he relents and trudges off, bidding them a quiet goodnight.

Then Billy says he’ll take the couch and both Steve and Max yell at him.

Billy rolls his eyes. “It’s fine, guys,” he mutters. He’s not about to make Max sleep on the weird little couch (he’s done enough to her already) and putting Steve out in his own house would be shitty. “It’s not like I haven’t slept on worse.” He winces as he says it, realizing as the words come out of his mouth that it’s probably the wrong thing to say. It was meant as a reassurance, that he would in fact be fine with the couch, because at least it’s clean and warm, but all it does is make Max look sad and put a little wrinkle between Steve’s eyebrows.

“I’ve slept on this couch before,” Max says, a stubborn tilt to her jaw, “I’ll take it.”

Steve scoffs at that, “You complain every time you have to sleep on that couch, Max. Take the guest bed. Billy can take mine.” His fingers tense when he says it, and Billy realizes they’re still holding hands. His hand slipped from Steve’s shirt while they were bullying Hopper into taking the master suite, but Steve has yet to let go.

And… suddenly he wants nothing more than to sleep in Steve’s bed. But. “Only if you come with me,” he blurts.

Which is really not how he should have said that, but it’s out there now.

“Oh my god,” he hears Max mutter.

His whole head feels like it’s on fire. “Shit. I—I mean—”

“Okay,” Steve says hurriedly, then clears his throat, “Yeah. That. That works. Uh. Okay.” He’s glancing at Max awkwardly, nervous, but she just rolls her eyes. Billy barely notices her do it, too busy looking at Steve, his heart hammering.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m—” It’s her turn to look uncertain, but it’s only for a second. “Me and El are dating. We’ve been trying to figure out how to tell everyone, and—yeah. Anyway. I’m not going to judge you, or whatever.”

Well, that was not at all what Billy was expecting. He takes a moment to worry about both of them, be terrified of what would happen to them if someone found out. Then he remembers that El can kill people with her brain and Max once threatened to castrate him with a spiked bat. The knot of anxiety doesn’t dissipate but he’s freaking out less.

“How long has that been going on?” Steve asks, sounding more bemused than anything.

Max turns pink, and it’s kind of fascinating to watch. She’s flustered. That’s adorable. “Since, um. Since April.”

“Happy for you, kid,” Billy says. And he means it. He barely knows El, in theory, but really. The kid’s been in his head. He could recite every story Hopper’s told him about her from memory. He died protecting her.

He knows her well enough to know she’s good for Max, and he loves Max enough to want her to have good things.

She grins, bright and real. Billy’s fairly certain he’s never seen her that happy before, and his heart clenches.

“I’m not sure who I’m supposed to give the shovel talk to here,” Steve says, more to himself than anything.

Billy snickers, and tugs on Steve’s hand, “Like you could take either of them.”

Steve steps closer, looking faux-offended, “I’ll have you know I won a fight once.”

“Yeah, three years ago. You’re a has-been, Harrington,” Max chimes in.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I’m seventeen, dingus.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

He missed them so much. Missed something he, if he’s being honest with himself, never really had in the first place. They both hated his guts before, and he… he was a mess. Still is. Just a different kind now. But being here, being part of this, is something he always on some level wanted and…

“Oh my god, Billy, are you okay?” Max asks, concern bleeding into her voice.

He’s crying again, smiles through the tears. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

[argylemikewheeler]

Please do frantic love confessions for byler

Will wasn’t sure how well the shed could hold. The walls were really just slats of wood held together by a few rusty nails and good intentions. Mike was moving the main work bench toward the door, waving Will away from it. The two of them flipped it up onto its side, the table legs sticking out around them like protective arms. They leaned against the table, hoping to reinforce it. They could hear the demogorgon storming the front of the house, chasing their scent.

“What do we do?” Will asked, looking around for weapons. His mother had been cleaning it out the past two summers. There wasn’t much. Just some chairs. Not even a string of Christmas lights with which to strangle the damn thing. “Mike, what do we do?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know– Hopper should be on his way. And I called Lucas on the radio before we took off. I-I don’t know– how did it follow us that far… I don’t… We have to just… wait.”

“Wait for what?” Will could only hear their window of opportunity shrinking. Plates in his family kitchen were being shattered by enormous and careless, blood-thirsty hands. Claws. Whatever. “To die?”

“For help.” Mike corrected. “We aren’t going to die.”

Will held his own sides, trying to comfort possibly his last moments of painless autonomy. “I don’t want to die. Not here.”

“You won’t. You won’t die here.” Mike pushed away from the table and door, crossing the shed to the pile of extra lawn furniture tucked away for summer. He grabbed a metal chair and tested the legs against the ground. “You’re going to die very very old and like, annoyingly successful. And definitely not living in Hawkins. You’re gonna be surrounded by your huge family, very comfortable and happy.”

Will watched Mike try and find the weak welding on the seat. His hands were shaking and his balance was unsteady. “Will you be there?” He asked. Mike stopped working, looking up at Will. Another plate crashed.

“Of course I will. I don’t intend on going anywhere. Where you move, I move.” Mike shrugged. He found a rusty seam along the armrest. He stepped down firmly and snapped the arm off the chair. It was hollow in the center, unsurprising but still disappointing. He held it out to Will as he walked back to him. “Here, let’s jam it under the door.”

Will helped Mike line it up under both the table and door, forgetting for a moment what they were really barring themselves from. All while Mike had opened a whole new can of worms. “Why would you move with me?”

“You’re my best friend. You think I want to live more than ten minutes from your front door? You’re crazy.” Mike laughed and kicked the bar after Will, taking turns.

He was scared, Will could tell. He always got overly calm when he was moments from crying, from completely losing control and giving in to his anxiety. He liked to get other people in control of the situation and their emotions in case he caved.

“You’re my best friend too.” Will braced his arms against the table. He heard the backdoor clatter open. “You’re my best best friend.” The ground shook with each step. They could hear the clicking and gargling of the demogrogon. The sound rumbled low in their chests like an earthquake. Will cleared his throat and turned to Mike. “I’m glad I’m dying with you.”

“Y-You’re n…” Mike turned his head, finding Will’s eyes and letting his bottom lip quiver. Here it was– the collapse. “Me too. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Between them, resting against the rattling table, both of their hands bumped together. Mike’s fingers lifted and splayed to make better room for Will’s under his own. He squeezed Will’s fingers. Mike’s palms were slick and his grip shuddered with his whole body.

“I heard you, you know… last time we were all in here.” Will said suddenly, closing his eyes. He could hear Mike– two years younger and just as terrified– it was the best thing i ever did. best thing i ever did. the best thing. the best. best. “It was the best thing I ever did too. Becoming your friend.”

Mike slid his entire hand into Will’s. Will couldn’t tell who was breathing heavier: Mike or the demogorgon. Mike tried to steady his breathing, inhaling sharply through his nose. “I don’t want to die.”

“Mike,”

“I can’t die like this. I can’t die like this because then everything I’m about to tell you is going to seem like a last ditch effort to make our last moments mean something, but I mean all of it. It’s all genuine. I’ve meant everything since the eighth grade, since I almost lost you.” Mike was whispering, his hand climbing up Will’s hand to his wrist. The breathing was shifting to Will’s left– toward Mike. “I can’t die if you think that I’m making this up.”

Will opened his eyes and found Mike already staring at him. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy, dangerously close to tearing up. “Michael… You don’t have to say anything.”

“I do. I have to–” They screamed as the demogorgon slammed the wall. The wood groaning with the weight, the nails couldn’t hold– and they hadn’t reinforced anything but the door. They had only prepared to wait. Mike reached over and grabbed a table leg, covering Will. “I have to say– Will… Will, I’m in love with you. A-And if I didn’t tell you and then– and then we fucking died oh my god I’d be so fucking mad at myself and–”

“Mike. Stop talking.” Will whispered, grabbing his arm with his other hand.

“I know this isn’t a great time and it’s weird but, Will, I swear you are the only thing I think about–”

“Michael,” Will whispered, nudging his side. “Michael, please stop talking.” Mike couldn’t seem to stop, digging himself deeper into his own heart; outpouring every word he’d been dying to say– and now might die saying. Will dove to cover Mike’s mouth. “Will you please stop talking? Because I can’t die now that you’ve decided to tell me that you love me when I’m so scared that I couldn’t even think of articulating myself correctly and tell you that I love you too so– stop. talking.”

Mike nodded slowly. He blinked to show he hadn’t been stunned to silence, but rather choice. They were ignoring the finality of hearing each other’s confessions.

They waited in prolonged terror– extended and suspended– as the bushes rustled at the far end of the shed. It was strange to think that they weren’t hiding, they weren’t protecting themselves by being silent. They were just waiting; seeing if they’d be killed or left alone. Will just had to wait, hand over Mike’s mouth and fingers digging into his forearm like he was trying to get blood. They were waiting– after apparently doing enough of it to find the right moment to confession their love to one another. This wasn’t the moment they were waiting for, but maybe the only one they’d have.

Mike lifted his head, his chin pushing Will’s hand away. Will didn’t fight him. He could hear the demogorgon circling the shed– but he also swore he heard squeaking brakes at the other end of the house. If his ears were wrong, Will didn’t want to miss a single moment with Mike, with whatever his heart had to say.

“I love you.”

“I know, Michael. Me too.”

[stevesnailbat]

the fine line | steve harrington x hopper!oc

part three : test of my patience

SERIES MASTERLIST

warnings: just a lot of angst

word count: 2.7K

a/n: one part left after this!! i hope you guys have enjoyed this angst-filled rollercoaster as much as i have :) gif isn’t mine, it’s from this gifset

Driving to Steve’s house was like second nature to Jess, but she didn’t think she’d ever be doing it again. There she was, though. She was on her way to talk to the boy who broke her heart, and she felt like a fool. It wasn’t like she meant for this to happen, she didn’t mean to come crawling back to Steve, but it happened. Jess couldn’t help but think that she had done it to herself, that she had put herself into the situation by telling him that she couldn’t stop loving him. She couldn’t help herself anymore, she needed answers and if those answers weren’t what she wanted to hear, then she needed closure.

An incessant knocking on the front door of the Harrington residence was the last thing that Steve expected on a Sunday at nine in the morning. When he first heard it, he groaned softly and shoved his head under a pillow to drone out the sound. It didn’t work, though. The pounding didn’t stop for the whole minute that he laid beneath the warm covers, so he decided to answer just to get them to shut up. He wanted nothing more than to stay in his bed and sulk all day, the words that Jess had whispered to him the night before replaying in his mind as he did. He didn’t think that he’d ever be opening the front door to his house to see Jess on the other side again, but here he was.

“Steve.” she said shakily. “We need to talk.”

“Oh—uh—alright. Come on in.” he offered nervously, studying the way she still seemed so hesitant about him.

She came in without saying anything and sat on the couch, in the same spot she had sat in when she came to confront him just weeks before. This time seemed different, though. She didn’t seem to be holding any anger, but there was a certain sadness in the way she was holding herself together. Jess seemed to be on the brink of tears, but she didn’t really even know why.

“Jess.” Steve called after a moment, realizing that she had spaced out and was about to break down in front of him.

“Right—Sorry.” she said, shaking her head to snap herself back to reality. “I—I came here to talk to you about us.”

“Us?” he questioned hesitantly, unsure of what she meant. “As in?”

“Me and you, Steve. What we were.” she retorted, resentment in her voice as she used the past tense. “I’ve had my time to cope, to deal with the emotions that I was feeling. I—I know I wasn’t ready to listen when I came here that day that I found out, I was just so upset.”

“And you had every right to be upset.” he said while walking to the couch, sitting a safe distance away from her. “You still do.”

“I know I did.” Jess said with narrowed eyes, making him recoil a little further away from her. “But that doesn’t mean that I had the right to not listen to you.”

“What?” Steve asked, brow furrowed as he stared at her from afar.

“I never really let you explain the situation or let you tell your side of the story, I guess.” she shrugged. “I was just so mad at you and I couldn’t even think to let you explain what happened. I believed that you were only out to hurt me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I really didn’t. I know it doesn’t seem like it, and I know I fucked up. But, I wouldn’t do this to hurt you.” he explained, words coming out a little more struggled than he’d wanted. “I didn’t know what was happening, honestly. I know that sounds like the stupidest excuse ever, it does. I hear how stupid it sounds every time I say it. But, I thought it was you. The voice, the hair, everything to drunk me was the same.”

She didn’t realize that there were tears sliding down her cheeks until one of them dripped onto her hand. She couldn’t help but believe what he was saying, he sounded so sincere. And he was, he was as truthful as he could be in the moment. The night was pretty blurry to him, but he could clearly remember how he knew he’d fucked up after he’d done it.

“When Tina barged into that bedroom.” he started painfully, unable to look up at her as she stared over at him. “I had stopped that girl, whoever the hell it actually was, from kissing me again. When we were in the living room, it was dark and loud and I swore to God that it was you. I even asked her why she wasn’t watching El—like I knew you were that night—and she just said she wanted to see me, or something like that. Then—Then she led me to the bedroom and was kissing me and I could tell—I could just fucking tell that it wasn’t you, it wasn’t your lips. I don’t remember much else but I remember her kissing me right before Tina came in, and I tried to stop her. I knew as soon as Tina came in that I had fucked up, and that I was going to lose you.”

There was something in Steve’s voice that made her fold, it made her finally break. In all of the time that they’d been apart, Jess had told herself that she was strong and that she could get over it, that it wasn’t worth her tears. Sure, she’d cried about it, but never for more than a moment. This time was different, though. Jess knew she couldn’t hold back anymore, she’d been strong for too long.

Steve didn’t know what to do when he heard the first whimper slip from her lips, he thought he was imagining it at first. Jess Hopper was the type to never cry over anything, her dad had taught her that nothing so arbitrary was worth her tears anymore, especially after everything they had gone through. But, this time, she was too broken to hold back. Seeing the tears stream down her face as a small sob wracked her body broke Steve’s heart, but he knew he deserved to have his heart broken like he’d done to her.

“Jess, I—“ he started, but the look she gave him as he opened his mouth told him that he had said enough.

“I tried to hate you. I fucking tried, I really did. I wanted to resent you for what you’ve done to me. But, I just—I just fucking couldn’t.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to choke down her sobs. “I wanted to believe that you were just trying to hurt me and break my heart, but I knew that wasn’t you. I knew that wasn’t the Steve Harrington that I fell in love with. I knew there was something else to the story, I was just too mad to even hear it.”

“You deserved to let me die with my truth, honestly. I didn’t deserve time to explain what happened. I shouldn’t have put myself in that situation, I don’t expect you to forgive me for this, Jess.” he said softly, moving a little closer to where she sat.

“I—I know. I’m not forgiving you, Steve.” she said softly, shaking her head at her own voice. “I just—I don’t know. There’s something that keeps bringing me back to you. I’ve tried to tell myself that you broke my heart so many times, but I can’t stop thinking about us, what we had.”

“I don’t—I don’t think I understand what you mean.” Steve said carefully, easing into his words as he spoke.

“I’m not just gonna say that I forgive you and that I’ll forget everything that happened. That’s not what this is, because I don’t believe you’ve earned that.” she started, he nodded feverishly in reply. “But, fuck, Steve. I miss you. I—I miss seeing you all the time and I miss us.”

“I know, Jess. I’ve missed you too.” he sighed, watching as she sniffled and wiped her tears from her eyes. “But, what are you trying to say?”

“I guess I’m trying to say that we can start over. I can do second chances, everyone deserves one.” she said wearily, a sad smile on her lips. “I’m trying to say that I want you in my life and—and that maybe we can work this out together.”

“I mean, if that’s what you want, Jess. I’m willing to do whatever you want.” he said, trying not to sound too excited as his heart skipped a beat. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Yeah, I think so.” she sighed, finally looking up at him with a nervous look on her face. “Don’t make me regret my decision, Steve.”

So they tried, and tried, and tried to make things work again. Steve worked his ass off to be the best that he could be and to make sure that he didn’t slip up. They started out slow, by only seeing each other every other day and doing so in small sittings. Jess didn’t know why she decided that, but it probably had something to do with her fear of arguing with him.

Some days were better than others, that’s for sure. Steve would bring her food or take her some new place every time they’d hang out, trying to make things like they used to be. Jess seemed to be happier now, but there was still something holding her back from being the real her. Of course, Steve knew what it was, but was afraid to mention it for the sake of saving them from more arguments.

Her heart was tugging her in two directions every time they were together. She wanted to be in his arms and let him back into her life without hesitancy, but she knew she couldn’t. Steve could see the struggle hidden in her eyes whenever they were together, he always saw right through her facade. It was killing him honestly, seeing her hide her conflict from him all the time. But he’d made so much progress that he didn’t want to fuck anything up again, so he stayed quiet.

Steve stayed quiet for weeks, for as long as he could muster being in the dark. Really, she was testing his patience to see how long he could hold out without trying to comfort her; she didn’t want to talk about what happened and he knew that. The day that he decided that he was going to bring up the situation again, she had come out of the cabin with tears in her eyes. She slammed the front door shut and wiped her cheeks quickly, giving him a sad smile as she walked towards the car. A sigh of frustration escaped her lips as she swung the car door open and shut, but Steve didn’t dare to ask what was wrong yet. He was on the verge of taking back his decision to ask her about their relationship at this point.

“Steve.” she said as he pulled out of the driveway, making him snap his attention in her direction to see an all-too-sudden change of expression on her face. “Let’s go to the quarry."

“I thought we were going to that movie—“ he started.

“Fuck the movie. I want to go to the quarry, please?” she pleaded, more than a hint of desperation in her voice as she spoke. “I just wanna get away for a little bit.”

“Alright, but it’s on you if your dad gets mad about it.” he agreed teasingly, making her lip quirk up slightly.

Most of their times at the quarry were in the middle of the night and spent getting drunk or high and making out in the backseat of the BMW, but this time was different. Neither of them could stomach the thought of drinking again, not after what had happened. As much as they’d both rather be making out in the backseat of Steve’s car, they both knew they couldn’t, not after what had happened. The sun was setting when they pulled into their usual spot, it seemed like a completely different place now. Jess pulled him out of his seat and onto the hood of the car, insisting that they watched the sunset together.

The silence between them was peaceful, for once. There was no resentment and pain in the air anymore, things finally seemed to be changing for the better. They watched the sun slip behind the trees on the other side of the quarry, stars littering the sky as the moon replaced the sun. Steve could tell that Jess was thinking hard about something. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know what it was, but he knew that it probably had to do with him. It seemed like they were finally going to talk about what was going on, wether he wanted to or not.

“My dad and I got into a fight today.” Jess finally admitted, leaning back on the hood of the car to stare at the stars beginning to show up in the sky. “He told me that I’m making a big mistake.”

Steve’s heart sunk as she spoke, he didn’t even need her to finish her thought to know exactly what he was talking about. He was the big mistake, and he knew it. Jess was staring at the sky, trying to collect her thoughts as she held herself together. She could tell by the way that Steve was holding tension in himself, that he knew exactly what she meant. He was bracing himself for her to finally break it off, for her to finally tell him that he could go fuck himself and that she was just trying to break his heart like he had done to her. But, she knew better than to do that to him. He’d tried so hard at winning her over once again and she could tell he’d become frustrated recently with their lack of progress.

“He asked me if I thought that you deserved to be happy, if I thought that you were even worth the pain I was going through.” she started, taking a deep breath as she blinked away a few tears. “I said yes. I told him that I can’t hate you for what happened, especially after what you told me. He told me he wasn’t going to support my decision, but that he’d still let me make my own decisions, make my own mistakes.”

He only nodded and smiled weakly at her as he leaned back to prop himself onto his elbows, looking up at the stars with her. Relief started to rush through him, but he knew he couldn’t be completely relieved yet.

“I think about what things would’ve been like if this wouldn’t have happened a lot. But then I remember that that’s something we’ll never know. And that I need to stop thinking about the what if’s.” she sighed, rolling her head over to look at him. “We need to work together if this is going to work, and I’m sorry I’ve been holding back.”

“Why are you sorry, Jess?” Steve questioned, feeling her hand graze against his as she inched closer to him.

“Because I shouldn’t be so conflicted about this whole situation. I’ve been getting scolded for going back to you, but I shouldn’t be so sorry for still—“ she said, stopping herself before she could say she loved him, he hadn’t earned that privilege yet and he knew it. “I shouldn’t be so sorry for wanting to save what we had. And before I start to overthink my decisions anymore, I wanna do this.”

Before Steve could comprehend what was happening, Jess had snaked her hand around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. It was soft and reserved, much different than any kiss the couple had ever shared. It was sad in a way, but there was hope in the air again. Their hearts were finally healing, but they were nowhere near done on their journey. That extremely fine line was getting easier to navigate now that they were on the same page, it would be easier to fall back in love again and they both knew it.

tags: @sourapplebaby @harringtown @queenofthehairharrington @charmed-asylum @hystericalmedicine @a-magey @daddystevee @sledgy14 @m-blasterrr @madiebrock @pocsimcc @karasong @heart-eye-harrington @lemonypink @jxnehxpper @igotmadskills

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

A Bottle of Sriracha (Sriracha, Part 6.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the '83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could keep you away from all the trouble. 

Part Summary: Jim Hopper can't do many things, but he can properly appreciate the hard work of his co-workers. 

A/N: Finally, you will understand why is the whole series named Sriracha! Yay!

Word count: 4.3 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​ @missdictatorme​ @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E

Only ten minutes remained to the end of your shift and Jesus, weren't they just dragging like fuck? You were alone in the building of Hawkins PD. Every cop in there left probably an hour ago, but you were waiting for Hopper just like he asked you to. But there was no call, radio was completely silent and you could hardly understand why he even asked you to stay there.

You were just turning the lights off and getting ready, when the so-called Chief of police finally entered the building You smiled at him, gave him a nod and went to your small personal space on Flo's chair.

"So, what happened, Chief?" - You asked and started to clean up the desk. Jesus Christ, you were a messy person. Lipstick here, sheets with drawings there, half-eaten donut on the other side of the desk. That was just as impressive as it was disgusting at the same time.

"I was drivin' through the whole damn town and tried to find this." - He put a paper bag on your desk, leaning into the counted in front of you. - "Your reward and my way of sayin’ thanks."

You cautiously looked on the Chief before taking the bag, putting it on your thighs to look at what the hell he bought you. First, you were afraid, since Hopper could buy you literally anything. But as soon as you unwrapped the napkins off, you found our that it's food. And warm food. And a bottle of...

"You somehow bought Sriracha in this God-forsaken town? Wow, well, that's a reward, Chief, not going to lie." - You held the bottle in your palms and smiled. You loved homemade Sriracha from your grandmother, but bought was also good. Especially the bottle Hopper got was spicy but sweet at the same time. And he even got you some Mexican food. If Hopper wasn't a magician, you didn't know what he was.

"That's why I was gone for so long, kiddo. Come on, let's eat. I'm starving." - Hopper started to take his jacket off and walked into the direction of his office, and you almost followed him, but then you stopped yourself.

"I can't. My mom is cooking dinner and even if I greatly appreciate all of this, Chief, I have to go." - You said with sadness with your voice, watching Chief preparing one of his extra-dark coffees. You put the bag with the sauce on one of the officer's desks and smiled at him. It was a great gesture, really, but you knew that your mom would start a fire on the roof if you weren't home on time.

"Call her that you're here with me, stuck since I need your help with another case. If she wouldn't believe you, tell her to call me." - Chief said as if all of it was completely logical. - "You need a day off, kiddo. You're trying your best here even if it's supposed to be your summer sentence. That's what I call good work."

That was right. That was fucking right. You needed a fucking day off to rest. Yeah. Hopper was right. You should be more careful with yourself, you should stop overworking and be home exact at seven p.m.

So you called your mom.

"Hey, mom, it's me." - You said shyly to the phone while you were still playing with the hem of the paper bag Hopper brought you, smelling the Mexican food inside.

"Hi, baby, something's wrong? Do you want me to give you a ride home?" - She asked in a curious tone. You giggled and shook your head even if she couldn't see you.

“Chief just came back on the station and asked me to stay a bit longer to help with a case or something like that. He asks if it's fine and if you don't trust me, he says you can call him any time.” - You told her with a calm tone and moved further from the bag when Hopper came there to take his food from the bag. Sriracha might've been a Thai sauce, but you knew that Chief is going to love it once he tries it with Mexican food. 

“I did ask her!” - He yelled over your shoulder to the phone and gave you a quick grin, taking his hat off to let his hair have a rest from being under the hat all day. 

“Oh, okay. You seem to like to work at the PD. Why won't you try your chances and try to ask Hop if you could be a cop?” - Your mom asked you with a burst of quiet laughter, earning a quiet groan from you. 

“I only helped him with catching a marriage fraudster, It's not like I'm James Bond or Thomas Magnum now or whatever.” - You laughed back to the phone, hearing Chief chuckling in the back.

“Right, right, sorry I asked you such a dumb question.” - The woman sighed and you giggled once again. 

“I will probably take the couch we have here, alright? I'll see you tomorrow.” - You signed off and ended the call. Then you followed Chief into his office, sitting into the chair in the side of the room.

"A celebration just for me. Wow." - You chuckled and took out your quesadillas as well. He bought the exact things you recommended, which was a huge plus in your eyes.

"And the sweet end." - Chief's hand disappeared under the table, picking up a bottle of sweet wine. You nervously looked at the bottle and then you scanned your boss.

"If this is a test, I'm going to be good kiddo and I'll just refuse the wine. I learned my lesson and now I know that's a shitty idea to puke on Chief's car." - You said with a burst of laughter and opened up the sauce, putting it on all of the right places.

"I didn't arrest you for drinking, but for smoking weed and then destroying the property of a state worker. You can have a glass. I swear I won't tell the Chief." - Jim winked at you and poured you a hell of a big one. That was an irresistible offer. In a second, you were sitting at the other side of the table and took his quesadillas while you took a sip of the wine.

That man a good taste, that was undeniable. You hummed and gulped the booze while you started to pour the sauce at all the right places, Hopper taking french fries out of the paper bag.

"Hope that you don't try to murder me, huh?" - He looked at the food with suspicion. For now, you prepared him only one Sriracha quesadilla, but you knew that you'll be preparing a couple of others once he tastes it.

"Don't worry, Chief, I'm far beyond that phase of murdering you." - You mumbled back and gave him the food, pretending it's two glasses, you cheered with him before taking a fair bite from your quesadilla. Hopper followed your actions with slight suspicion still written down his face. You carefully watched his face when he took the first bite. And holy fuck, Chief didn't know how to properly eat a quesadilla at all.

At first, he coughed a bit, covering his mouth. Then he took another fair bite, trying to get a hold on that taste. Dry chicken meat, a ton of cheese in a crispy tortilla with a Thai sauce were something to get a hold on. But as he continued on chewing, it turned out not to be that bad. It was actually pretty tasty. You both started to nod as you continued on chewing the food.

"Damn, that's..." - "Tasty, right? Or maybe finger-lickin' good?" - You completed his sentence with a soft giggle, taking another sip of the wine. Hopper chuckled as well and watched you pouring down the whole glass. That left him in slight worry and awe since he knew that maybe, you'll get drunk a bit too fast.

"Another one, please." - You licked your lips and handed him the glass with a sweet smile, already preparing another quesadilla for both you and Hopper, taking some of the fries.

"Let's talk a bit." - Hopper said when he handed you back a full glass and you nodded, your eyebrows knitted with concentration. You tried to pour the sauce all over the important spots, but not to pour too much of it.

"How comes that you're experimenting with drugs?" - His low voice asked, his shoulders leaning back to his chair. You smiled a bit, giving him another piece of heaven.

"Everyone has their rebellious stage, right? I'm soon to be an adult, which means promoting college, finding a flat or a house, having a real job, most likely having some dumbass boyfriend from here, staying here until the very day I die because my parents want me to... I just wanted to feel young for a little longer." - You shook your shoulder, raising one of your ankles on the chair you were sitting on, so you could support your elbow.

"Being an adult doesn't mean that you necessarily have to start living an adult life." - Hopper said after a while, looking at you holding your glass to your lips. - "You can travel, perhaps? Or you can take your friend on a road trip, that sounds fun."

"Chief, I've learned my lesson. When someone offers me a ride home, I will accept it with a smile and I won't puke all over your precious car again. No weed, I swear." - You huffed out with a smile, making the Chief smiling as well.

The days of coffee and contemplation were far behind both you - Hopper knew that you're not the dumb kid who smokes too much weed and you knew that he isn't an irresponsible fucking jerk. This felt more friendly-like. Just sitting in his office, having coffee and wine, eating the most delicious dish in the whole world. The awkward questions slowly turned into a full dialogue and soon, you were straight drinking out of the bottle, while Hopper was giving his coffee a little chief's kiss with some Irish bourbon. He wasn't drunk at all, but you destroyed yourself before eleven p.m.

Your Converse shoes were below your on the ground along with your socks when you put your ankles on the chair, sipping the rest of the wine straight from the bottle. You took off the short-sleeved shirt and you were barely seeing one Hopper in the room with you.

"And what did you say about boyfriends?" - He snapped at one moment as if he did come out of lethargy. You chuckled and pointed your fingers at him, chuckle slowly growing into laughter. You were wasted.

"That I think it's a responsibility for an adult, a necessity if you want and I'm anything but an adult." - You answered honestly. - "And the young boys my age? Jesus. I have really not much to choose from, do I?"

"Steve Harrington seems to be into a big time. He visited you here a few times, brought you a flower, asked you out..." - Hopper rose his eyebrows and took another completely cold french fry.

"Oh please, I'm really not into romancing a highschooler. He's fine and all, I like hanging out with him, and we actually do a lot of things together since he's my brother's team and they're friends, but, I mean, nah. I'm not standing at the queue for the love of Steve Harrington." - You told him as honestly as you could, meaning every word of your speech. Alcohol usually made you brutally honest, you spoke the truth whether you liked it or not.

You and Steve had the conversation a few times actually. He tried to ask you out and every time, you just smiled at him and hugged him. You knew him since he was six years old, there was no way you would romance this guy. And you also knew that his attempts for more frequent because he was brokenhearted recently. And you liked that boy, a lot, but not in the sense he would like you to.

"I've never thought of boys, to be honest." - You mumbled to yourself as a note for the next time.

"So... Um..." - Hopper licked his lower lip and scratched his beard, visibly getting a bit uncomfortable. - "You fancy girls?"

At that, you shot a shocked look at him just seconds before you started to laugh hysterically. Your feet fell off the chair as you spangled up, trying to contain your behavior. - "I mean, it's a bit unconventional, but I don't judge. Love's love, I guess."

"No! No! No! That's not what I meant at all, Chief!" - You looked at him, unable to stop snorting. That made Hopper laugh as well. - "I just... Boys aren't really my area. They're fun to hang around, yes, but... I don't know. There's something about men."

Hopper just stopped doing anything, furrowing from a moment to moment. He watched you drinking the last bits of the wine remaining in the bottle before you inhaled to continue with your speech. Hopper was not sure if he wants to hear all of it.

"Men around twenty are... Fine. Sure, I agree with that, but there's something mysterious about men ten years and older than me. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" - You sat straight so you could look at him, crossing your legs. You looked so young and full of life at that moment - your cheeks were red and eyes shining, you were making gestures with your hands and you seemed to be really excited about the overall topic you and Hopper were going through. So he spoke out first.

"It isn't a mystery or coolness, that's what you're seeing and talking about. We colden over time, especially men like I or old Hamilton down the road. It's no mystery, believe me." - Hopper stood up and poured himself another cup of coffee, this time without any bourbon in it, lighting himself up a cigarette, throwing the pack at you. - "Why should I feel bad or negative emotions, if I don't have to feel any? That's how men like I think. Stay away from these ones, for your own good, kiddo. They'll only break your heart."

You leaned your elbow to the plush chair below you, lighting up a cigarette, bringing it closer to your lips.

"Well... That's just bullshit." - You chuckled and at the moment, you looked completely sober. Hopper looked back at you, furrowing even more. - "You pretend to be apathetic, Hopper, that's a difference. You like having the upper hand, to control your life. Jesus, when you came back to Hawkins, you hadn't got any friends and I highly doubt that you have now. Everyone has heard you fuck here and there, you're a drunk, probably even a junkie... But that's the image you chose to represent. That doesn't say anything about you."

That was the first time ever you addressed him only as Hopper. There was no Chief or Sir, there was only Hopper. He chuckled ironically, staring at you.

"And how the hell would you know, Y/N?" - Hopper addressed you only by your name, which caught your attention. This conversation was somehow different from all the ones you ever had before. It was more personal, raw, touchy-feely with emotions.

"Because I spent a whole fucking month with your smart ass. You're not that grumpy old jerk I saw you as - a bit ignorant, dumb and oblivious at times, yeah, maybe, but you care about people. A lot. And you hide it behind the iron mask you always wear. That's fucking pathetic." - You laughed coldly, puffing smoke from your lips so slowly that it framed your face for a moment.

At that moment, Jim realized that you're studying psychology. You were specializing in that medical industry. Maybe you were drunk, but you still knew what you were talking about.

"A month is enough to have an opinion on you and your behavior. Taking medication out of prescription, drinking too much, eating too much, smoking too much. You've given up, didn't you? But you, for an unknown reason, clearly think that you need to find a situation which sparks a flame inside of you and when you'll work on it, you can overcome your... Sadness. And then we have... Oh, look at that, the classic example of fear turned aggression. How could I forget for a second?" - You looked right into his eyes. - "I know a lot about you, Hopper, way more than you think. All it took was to listen. Not only to your words but overall reactions, acts, and emotion you were able to show."

"Stick your little psychology research up your ass, will you?" - Hopper huffed angrily. Everything was on point. Every word you've said was true. You've read him like a book. Which was horrifying for a man like Hopper. It was fucking creepy that you knew so much over the month. You tried to get up, but you accidentally broke the bottle and stepped on it in the process. Your eyes watered immediately when you felt one of the pieces cut your foot. Without hesitation, Hopper caught you and helped you to sit down, away from the broken glass.

"This situation keeps getting better and better, I tell you that." - Hopper got on his knee and rose your leg up to look at it. - "Fuck, goddamn it." - The shard was stuck in your foot, pretty deep inside of it. Jim got up, getting the first aid kit. You were crying, but still smoking, which indeed looked funny.

"I'll get the glass out and patch up your leg, okay? Don't you dare to kick me in my handsome face." - He said and concentrated on your foot, playing with his mustache. You chuckled, still crying like a five-year-old.

"Handsome? You wish - oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" - You yelled at him, catching his shoulder with your free palm, scratching his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. You yelled and cried like a woman in labor, but it was out in no time. Hopper threw the shard away and started to clean up that wound, that's when you started to abuse his other shoulder with your palm, the cigarette was on your lips and you were puffing out like a steam engine. Hopper was quite handy and quick with bandaging your foot - you almost didn't know it's over until he took the cigarette butt out of your lips.

"It's going to hurt tomorrow." - Hopper stated as a matter of fact and you just nodded with your eyes still closed. You didn't know if you should cry again or laugh, actually.

"No shit, Sherlock." - You mumbled quietly, realizing that your head hurts and that you want to puke. Nice. First, you puked his car, now his office? You were definitely stepping up your game.

"Alrite, let's get you away from here." - Hopper said and took the bag with the leftover food and then your shoes along with your socks and shirt, fetching them to his car. You panicked and looked around for ways you could escape through. This psycho was about to take you home. To your mom. And you knew she would beat your damn ass if you have shown there drunk - and because you were drunk, the window seemed like the best idea you've ever had. So you tried opening it up, even if you could barely walk.

Well, since you were drunk, you didn't notice that the window is locked and Hopper even lightened up another cigarette while he watched you cuss at the window. It was one damn funny look.

"You're... Going somewhere, Y/N?" - He asked when you started to cry that the damn window wouldn't open. You looked at him, looking like a little puppy, sobbing and standing on one foot, stabilizing yourself with your palm pressed into the window.

"Please, don't take me home, Hopper." - You sobbed once more. You vividly remembered the last time Hopper gave you a ride home - the yelling of your mother was almost unforgivable. You were afraid of your whole life at that moment.

"I wouldn't drive you home when you look like this, dumbass." - Hopper told you quietly, coming closer to you. - "Your mom would beat me up like a dog. You're wasted, I'm going to let you sleep at my place. Nothing else."

Hopper was calming you down, choosing a completely different approach, more relaxed and... Empathic. He was more vulnerable to show you that you can trust him since you were at the edge of freaking out totally and going loco. It seemed to comfort you more than his normal, aggressive approach. After a moment, you nodded and let Hopper put your arm around his shoulder and his palm circled around your waist while he helped you out of the building.

Without a problem, he sat you on the co-driver's seat and watched as you did your seatbelt before carefully putting your bike into the trunk. Then, he went back to fetch your bag and to lock the door.

You mumbled something when you were halfway to his cabin. He just turned his face to look at you while you were looking like you were dying.

"What about the blood and the broken bottle?" - You repeated yourself, trying to pronounce every word right. You stuttered here and there, but in the end, Hopper knew what you're asking about.

"Forget about that. It won't be the first nor the last time the cleaning lady finds a broken bottle and blood in my office." - Hopper said and focused on the road again.

By the time he was turning off the engine, you were dead. It looked like someone has just turned you off as you slumbered all over his damn car. You were even louder than him - and his slumbering made many women rather uncomfortable and unable to fall asleep.

To get you out of the car and to actually carry you into the bed was almost an impossible mission. And yes, if you're asking, his trail had a bed which was used rarely. It was always tidied up and smelling nice since Hopper rarely used it to sleep in it. After ten minutes of mumbling various cuss words from 'son of a bitch' to 'I swear to fucking God', he tugged you under the blanket, preparing you a bucket. You had to puke throughout the night.

And around four a.m., there you were, puking into the bucket. When Jim came there to hold your hair off your face, you were going between crying and puking your organs out.

"I'm so sorry, Hopper. I was so rude." - You mumbled over and over again, still drunk like a little bitch. Jim, having only his briefs and a t-shirt on, was looking out of the window while your head was basically shoved into the bucket.

"It's alright, go to sleep." - He tried to shush you down when you cried again, telling him how terrible you were feeling for what you've said.

In the end, he decided to lay down next to you for the night - before, he barely made it into the bedroom before everything sort of... Flew out of your mouth. After an hour, you started to snore again, but Hooper was half-asleep as well, still thinking about what you've told him.

You got right every word. He was lost and already gave up on his life. Jim scoffed and put one of his arms below his head, looking at the ceiling.

It was scary - such a young woman, well, barely a woman, was able to look through his lies in a month - you didn't know that Sara was where it all had started, but you knew that he's hurting. You knew that he has too much fear and grief inside of him and you knew that had so much of it that it was turning into his temper issues.

Hopper liked to be in control of the situation and he didn't like changes. He liked to have his own little bubble where nothing could hurt him anymore - where he kept his emotions and his heart safe. And you fucking knew, just like that.

A woman who threw up on his car just three fucking months ago. Hopper never thought that you can be as smart as you were, but he realized that the more he'll let you look into that bubble, the more vulnerable you'd make him. And that was something he couldn't stand.

But at the same time, there was salvation in finally meeting someone who could understand the way he was feeling. To have around someone who knew his states and respected them. Maybe even offered a helping hand to pull him out of that fucking dark place.

And in the end, you were right. Older men were just big mysterious creatures who barely knew anything about themselves. And it was almost ridiculous to imagine such a young, bright woman helping them from that endless loop of fear and loss.

That was why he needed to keep you away from that point. Jim simply didn't want to drag you along deeper into the hole. His fingers smoothed your shoulder and put the hair away for a moment before he leaned in and smelled you.

You didn't smell like puke, no, but like... Vanilla. You were reminding him of vanilla. And your skin was warm and so... Smooth to touch. The only thing he allowed himself was a peck on that place before putting his nose back there once again.

So that was how the story of the Wolf falling for the Red Riding Hood started - and Jim swore that no matter what, it will also end just there.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 9)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, bit of fluff

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries and death, fighting, swearing, mentions of smut, but not full-on

Word count: 2120 (I’m sorry if there are any mistakes :D )

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

Italics are flashbacks

“Billy, stop!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, throat burning with every uttered syllable, but no sound came out. When Y/N had come to and seen the bruises he’d left around her neck, she had almost passed out again, but had to remind herself – this was not Billy, this wasn’t her caring sometimes hot-headed boyfriend that had wrapped his palms around her neck and tried to squeeze the life out of her. This was a monster using him as a servant to do its bidding. 

           For a second, their eyes met as she stood at the other side of the mall, the Mind Flayer’s attention on El who laid on the ground before it. And there it was – recognition in Billy's eyes. If only for a moment, he remembered who she was, who he was to her.

           As quickly as that had happened, it was gone, and Billy turned around grabbing a screaming El who had woken up and skidded away by her ankle and dragging her towards the monster. No, Y/N thought to herself, that’s not gonna happen, and rushed to the side where a discarded shotgun laid on the ground. She checked its ammo, loaded and aimed. 

***

           “You,” Y/N pointed at Hopper as they jumped out of the van, “stay in the car and stay low. We don’t need someone to see your face and freak and call the cops.”

           “I am the cops,” he grunted but slid lower onto the seat, masking his face with a baseball cap.

           “No,” El butted in, “keyword – were. You’re technically still dead. At least as far as Hawkins is concerned. And the rest of the world.”

           Like a child, Hop grunted our a ‘whatever’ and watched as the group entered the store, the little ‘DING!’ ringing sharply through the air. “Stay low my ass,” he muttered and slid down the chair to vanish from view.

*

           Y/N tapped her foot against the tiled floor, and each little movement of the muscles tightened the feeling in her back where the salve had seeped into her skin and had lost the cooling effect, making her grit her teeth to keep the whimpers of pain at bay.

           Each beep as the items were scanned amped up her anxiety, and she started chewing on the tip on her thumb which Steve promptly slapped away from her mouth.

           “If your boy sees you without a finger, it’ll be my head he’ll come after,” he grumbled and crossed his arms mimicking Y/N’s stance and tapped his foot at the same time.

           “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you two already gone through your dick-measuring phase?”

           “When are boys ever?” Robin snarked from where she stood behind Y/N, and the two fist-bumped at that.

           “Hey, don’t I know you?” the clerk squinted his eyes at Y/N with a pointed finger in her direction. “Aren’t you that chick that ran off with Hargrove?”

           “If by that chick that ran off with Hargrove you mean his girlfriend throughout the senior year and decided to move to California with him then yeah, I guess so.” She was really over all of the judgement from others.

           Her mom hadn’t been too pleased when she’d announced that she’d be going to San Diego with Billy. Especially given how Y/N had planned on returning to New York and going to NYU at the start of the last semester. 

           Sure, it hadn’t been the most pleasant of stays, but the Big Apple had grown on her. She’d found some peace and had been able to collect her mind after everything Hawkins had put her through. That is until the tanned Cali boy slammed his way into her world.

           He completely shook everything up, from what Y/N wanted in life to what she thought she deserved. There’d been a tremendous amount of guilt that plagued her heart since Barb, and once returning to Hawkins it got bad again. 

           She hadn’t been there to help and look for her, she hadn’t stayed and brought justice to one of her best friends, instead, she'd opted to run away. Y/N felt like she’d been selfish and a horrible person. Until Billy helped her understand it wasn’t her fault. And he made sure she knew it.

           “You couldn’t have done anything,” he’d muttered in her hair one night after the boy had climbed through his window seeking solace from his dad, only to find Y/N dry heaving over her toilet seat. “Fuck, sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault, you gotta understand.”

He hadn’t known the real circumstances then, but it didn’t matter 'cause the words hit their mark either way. “That fucking lab and those people were a messed-up bunch, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to take care of yourself.”

           Y/N had shaken her head. “I-I should’ve stayed. I should’ve helped Nance and Steve. I-I sh-should’ve fought for her.”

           A hand wove into her hair and made her rest her cheek against his chest. “How can you fight for someone else when you can’t even fight for yourself?”

           “So, what do you need all this stuff for?” the cashier asked taking Y/N out from her thoughts and making small talk while scanning the copious amounts of rope and batteries. “Infiltrating the CIA?” Oh, if only he knew how close he was.

           “Going on a camping trip,” Y/N gave him a tight-lipped smile. They seriously didn’t have time for this shit.

           He pulled up the two barrels of gasoline and shrugged. “Must be some trip if you need all this stuff.”

           “You never know,” Robin said curtly hoping he’d just hurry up, “maybe a bear blocks our way back to civilization, and we have to fight it off.”

           “With what? Ropes and walkie talkies?”

           “Exactly,” she gave him a sarcastic smile, and he finally rung up the total.

***

           Billy couldn’t breathe. He felt like his lungs had collapsed and a boulder sat on his chest, pressing down on him. His vision swam, bright lights merging in a sickening dance turning his head dizzy.

           Pain. That’s all he felt. But maybe that’s what he deserved. He’d been an asshole, a major one at that. Maybe this was his way of repenting. Spending his last moments alive in unbearable agony for all the hurt he’d caused while he was alive. Especially to those he loved. 

           His eyes dripped close, but then two hands planted themselves on his shoulders.

           “Max,” he gurgled out, pain shooting through his body right down to the very tips of his toes.

           “Hold on,” the redhead sobbed. Fuck, is she crying? Over me? “Don’t you dare die on me, or I swear I’ll dig up your grave, zap you back to life and skin you alive.”

           “ ‘M sorry,” he choked. “ ‘M sorry.”

           And he knew he was gone when an angel came into view. A beautiful gorgeous angel.

           “Billy,” she called his name. “Billy, please.”

           Fuck, she sounded so much like Y/N. His Y/N. A small smile came over his face. Maybe death wasn’t that bad when it took the form of the only person that had every truly, really loved him. Not even his mom had loved him as much as his girl did. 

           Sure, he missed her like crazy every day of his damned life, but she had left him with that bastard that was nothing more than a sperm donor to him. A little kid on his own to live with a monster. Billy wasn’t afraid of the dark or what hid in it. He was afraid of the person in the next room with a beer bottle in his hand.

           But Y/N… he’d been so shitty to her in the beginning, to her friends. But somehow, she saw through it, saw through the tall and dense walls he’d built around himself and had fallen for the man hiding inside the fortress. 

           “Billy, stay with me,” the angled pleaded. Of course, he would. He could never say no to her.

***

           Once they got to Joyce’s, they split up in groups, Billy taking his sister, Mike and Nancy back to their places while Joyce stayed with Will, and Johnathan took Dustin and Lucas back to theirs.

           “Have you talked with Lucas?” Billy looked over to Max and saw her visibly shrink. She folded her arms and slid down the seat a bit more as if trying to minimize her existence, and it worked as even sitting down he towered over her like a tree

           “About what?”

           “You know what,” he gave her pointed look before returning his gaze back to the road.

           For a moment, silence settled between them, but then Max sighed and groaned out “No. In fact, I actually tried to do that before everything with Y/N went down, but he just waved me off. Said it wasn’t a big deal.”

           Max’s ginger eyebrows were pulled together in a frown of hurt and confusion. “And I know I haven’t been the most understanding and was giving him the silent treatment, but I just… I don’t know what to do… I don’t know how to make it better.”

           Billy sighed, looking at how the trees zoomed past them on both sides before carefully replying. “You love him, don’t you?”

           “Yeah,” she said throwing her head back against the seat surprising him with her blatant honesty. “I mean we’ve been together, on and off, since like being thirteen… kinda hard not to.”

           As Neil’s house slowly started to come in view, Max asked him to stop on the curb.

           “Drop me off here. I’ll just sneak around the house and climb in through the window,” she said and turned to look at Billy grimacing. “Neil doesn’t really let me stay over if there are boys around.” She let out a sneer. 

           Her brother just shook his head and smirked ruffling her head. “You’re trouble, you know that, Maxine?”

           A scoff got stuck in her throat. “Me? Have you met yourself? You snuck out so many times during your senior year just to go to Y/N’s, I’m surprised Neil didn’t pick up on your routine and put bars on your windows.”

           Billy sorted. “If he’d even tried, I would’ve found a way to get to her.”

           “Sentimental asshole,” she rolled her eyes, but he could see that there was nothing malicious behind the gesture. “See you in a few hours.”

           “Stay safe,” he said, and Max nodded, quickly leaning over and pulling Billy in a tight hug. “Everything’s gonna work out. With Lucas, this whole shitshow. I promise.”

           “Do you think Y/N's gonna be okay?” Max mumbled in his ear and opened the door, her muddied up sneakers getting even dirtier.

           "She's the strongest person I know. She'll be just fine,” he looked to his lap and his heart clenched. She was, without a question, but that didn’t make him feel any less worried. Rather it terrified him to the core because who knows what situations awaited them. Billy wasn’t ready to let go of his life just yet, and he knew she'd do anything for those she loved. 

           His knuckles tightened around the wheel.

They’d make it out. No matter what. Or he’d burn everything in its wake. 

***

           A miracle the doctors had said. Not only that vital organs hadn’t been punctured, but that the chemicals Billy had downed a week ago hadn’t fully burned his insides apart. When Y/N heard this from the nurse, she had to rush away from her boyfriend’s side by the bed into the attached bathroom and throw up.

           Her throat burned like ten thousand hot pokers were being pushed down it. Her hands shook as she opened up the faucet and splashed ice-cold water against her face. Y/E/C eyes looked up to see the blue-black bruises littering her neck, Billy’s two handprints like tattoos against her skin. 

           No, she shook her head, not his, but that monster’s that used him as a puppet. Her Billy would never hurt her. 

           “Is he gonna recover?” Y/N asked glancing at the nurse when she reentered the room assuming her previous position. He was the same nurse that had looked at her neck and she had blatantly disobeyed his pleas for her to rest. She had to be with Billy.

           “Physically, yes… Psychologically is a different kind of story,” the nurse said. “But the doctor thinks he’s gonna be just fine. He’ll need a lot of help, but we're optimistic."

           Y/N nodded looking away from the nurse and back to her boyfriend. With shaky fingers, she took ahold of his palm and brought his fingers to her lips. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I’ll be here for you… We’re gonna be just fine… we’ll make it…”

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Hawkins’ Charm tag list: 

@genius2050 @aiifandomsunite @ashleymarieriffle @littlefool-smalljester @infinitelycharmed23 @llcalumllhoodll @benevolentgemini @rxmanovbby @euphoniumpets @krazykatykat456 @believerofall @ccidk @babechief @meganmj @blackhood5sos @fml9603 @noodlenerd101 @universefinds @kuroidesuchloe @im-a-stranger-thing @grxxn-gardxns @springholland @beforethebraces @robinisourlesbianmom @queeneliza108 @neenaw-neenaw @lexisntthatweird @choicesismylife @mckenzie2020 @kcd15 @snuggleducky @reckless-sofia @didyouseetheflair @silver-winter-wolf @jay-ta-blog @hopeless-lovex0 @anyasthoughts @robinismyqueen @yeah-butyourenot-dacremontgomery @mcrganstarks @psychoticobsession @cutehipstergirl25 @sbfandom @mickmoon @jackyfrost01 @txhmine @dark-princess99 @morgangrice18 @changingmylifestyle367 @sweetdayme4427 @alowexpectation @sexyvixen7 @golddvstwoman @evelynfreakinaddams @sunfucked @sataninsatin @queenbbarnes @venomavocado @rangotangomango @psychosupernatural @sereiins @frickin-bats @bandsruinedmylife @thee-brunette-princess @queenskyster @aspiring-fangirls-world @gracethegeek9902 @katiexdacre @dreamwavej @escaping-reality21 @void-fire-rose @slvtherinseeker @paranoiadestroyah @arromite @jojo-buttercup @danarysstormborn @graveyard--baby--666 @teller258316 @hello-therree @stqrker @bethanystan @enthusiastoffandoms14 @i-bitch-you-bitch @billysgodcomplex @astil-be @kpopishilarious @bae-bino @billyhargrovescigarette

Billy Hargrove’s tag list: 

@la-reina-tigresa @youcanstandundermyumbrella @ephmrl-love

Forever tags: 

@lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

A/N: soooo.... it’s been a while.... a lot of things have happened and continue happening, but I hope you can forgive me for posting an update so late. Life just gets hectic and I do this for fun, so when pressing matters come up, I have to focus on them :D

I’ve started my last year of uni and I’m shitting bricks, but other than that I’m immensely enjoying everything I'm doing, mum’s visiting me next week, so that’s a plus, but also my first assignment is in less than two weeks, so yay me! :D

P.S. my tags are always open :)

[clericbyers]

can you imagine hopper's face when he's back and gets together with joyce, if after a while Will comes out to his family, and when hopper's finally come to terms and accepted that his new step son is gay, he gets ready to meet will's "new boyfriend" just to open the door and see mike wheeler there hdjshdsjhdjs

[ find on ao3 ]

Hopper cradled Joyce’s sobbing face in his hands and wiped her fast-flowing tears with gentle thumbs as he smiled down at her. She was covered in dust and dirt with blood dripping from a scratch above her eyebrow but she was alive and safe and Hopper couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Hopper,” she choked out desperately, “Jim, I thought I lost you forever.”

“You could never lose me, Joyce. Finding my way back to you is kinda what I do.”

She laughed and choked on a sob and he pulled her into his chest for a warm hug. He rocked her gently, leaning down to kiss the top of her head as he took in the moment and the reality of the woman he loves being alive. At the sound of a branch cracking, Joyce and Hopper pulled away, Joyce with her hands raised to punch and Hopper reaching back for his gun. They thought they had cleared this area of evil scientists, but the battle wasn’t over yet.

Instead of being greeted by the enemy, Will, Mike, and Dustin came tumbling through the trees gasping for breath. They halted when they saw Hopper and Joyce, who ran straight to her son and pulled him into her arms. Hopper smiled softly at the scene before turning back to Mike and Dustin. Mike was watching the Byers hug with an softness in his face Hopper only remembered seeing once before early on when Mike and El started dating. Dustin was smirking and he nudged Mike, who blinked his way out of his stupor and sent his friend a glare before realizing Hopper was still there.

“Chief,” the brat said haughtily, “it’s nice to see you alive.”

“Likewise, Michael.”

“I’d love to stay and chat but we need to go get El and find the others before Brenner can start unleashing more monsters.” Dustin tugged on Mike’s arm and pulled him toward Will. “Will, are you good to use your electricity stuff? Lucas said he found the power box outside and Mike and I can grab El while you do your thing.”

Will, who was holding his mom somewhat protectively but let her go at Dustin’s words, nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I can do it.”

“Will,” started Mike carefully, “don’t hurt yourself. We can’t lose you again.”

Hopper watched Will’s face melt into something even more gentle than what he had when he hugged his mom. “I’ll be fine, Mike. Trust me.”

“I do, always.”

Will smiled and squeezed Mike’s arm before turning to give Hopper a nod of recognition. The kid was running out east a second later and Mike turned to Joyce. “We’ll be back and meet up at your old place, yeah? We’re almost done with this shit for good.”

Joyce pulled Mike into a surprise hug and murmured something Hopper didn’t quite catch but it made Mike’s cheeks pink so he assumed she was probably thanking the boy for taking care of Will. Dustin and Mike soon made their way north and left Joyce and Hopper on their own.

The rest of the night went by in a blur but Hopper didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget seeing Will and El with linked hands and one hand each pointed out toward the Mind Flayer using paranormal powers together. Watching Will, who was so timid and quiet, stand up to a fucking demon, screaming and yelling with tears dripping down his face and blood dribbling from his nose made a mark on everyone, but Hopper especially. He wondered if Joyce was proud of Will for having powers, and then laughed at himself. Of course she would be proud.

Her son helped save the entire world from being destroyed by a psychotic demonic shadow force from another dimension. Everyone should be proud.

When both kids dropped to the floor with exhaustion, Mike rushed toward Will as Hopper ran to El. He missed her so much, missed hearing her laughter, missed seeing her smile, missed being able to show his daughter how much he loved her. Hopper cradled her and cried, wiping the blood from her nose with a gentle swipe. She looked so much more grown already in the time he had been captured and he hated that he couldn’t be there for her always like he promised.

El’s eyes flickered open and once she was able to focus, her face crumpled into tears and she launched herself into his arms with a sob. “Dad,” she cried into his neck. “Dad, you’re alive.”

Hopper couldn’t speak but he really tried to. All he could say was, “Yeah,” as they both cried in each other’s arms and took in the sweet relief brought by surviving a situation meant for death.

Things were easy afterwards. The Byers moved back and even though Joyce knew being here came with a lot of troubles, she couldn’t take splitting the Party or being separated from the life here. Hopper took her on that dinner, and in a few months time he was basically living with the Byers. Will and El had turned out to be the best of friends and tight knit siblings who would spend breakfast trying to see who could make Hopper’s pancakes float the longest.

Will always won that one, no thanks to Hopper teasing El until she lost concentration and started laughing.

Everything was a little too perfect so when Will gathered the family at dinner with nervousness in his eyes, Hopper knew some not-great news had to be coming down the pipeline.

“I need to tell you guys something,” he started hesitantly.

Hopper stiffened in his seat. “Don’t tell me you got some girl pregnant, Byers.”

Will, who Hopper had caught sneaking out far too many times, paled and shook his head. “N-no, Hop, that’s definitely not it. Actually, the opposite I guess.”

“You got a boy pregnant?” El blurted with awe in her voice. Will turned bright pink as Jonathan laughed and he quickly shut her down.

“No, no pregnancies. I just—I’m dating someone.” Will wrung his hands and took in a deep breath. “I want you to know I’m still me. I’m still Will no matter who I date.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” started Joyce, “you’re always you and we’ll always love you.”

The young boy’s eyes darted to Hopper before looking down at the ground. “Yeah, but I’m gay.”

Silence consumed the room only interspersed by the sound of Will’s heavy breathing. Joyce had a hand to her mouth but from the angle Hopper was at beside her, he could tell she was covering up a smile. El blinked twice, looked between Will and their parents, and then jumped out her seat to give Will a hug.

Will started but then collapsed into the hug as he returned it fiercely. El was smiling with her eyes closed as they pressed their foreheads together. They were obviously talking telepathically, which was so annoying, but they didn’t do it often as Will found it far too distressing to feel another voice in his head. The fact that it was happening now only meant El had to say something she wanted no one else to hear.

Hopper was still processing the fact that Will had been sneaking out to see a boy. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it exactly, but he was also unsure how to react positively enough to not seem like he hated Will for it. Will was literally speaking with his mind to his sister, which was far more abnormal than Will having a boyfriend. Still, Hopper couldn’t ignore the initial wave of discomfort that hit him at the fact that Will likes boys.

Jonathan climbed out his seat to join his younger siblings and Joyce turned to Hopper with pride in her smile and happy tears in her eyes. Hopper found it hard to keep feeling discomfort toward Will when Joyce looked at him like that. He let her tug him into a family hug and for a moment, Hopper felt tears sting the back of his eyes as he was once again reminded of the loving family he had become a part of so easily.

It took a month or so for Hopper to truly stop feeling the initial uncomfortable waves of dislike when Will would mention his boyfriend in passing. Mike started coming over more too, which was bothersome as usual. Hopper was over the moon that the damned kid wasn’t playing tonsil hockey with his daughter anymore, but his face was still the most annoying 16-year-old face to look at. Hopper definitely wasn’t keen on coming home from a long shift at the police department only to see Will and Mike playing games on the couch, but he couldn’t ever really stay mad when Will looked so happy to have Mike at his side.

“He’s a good kid, Jim,” Joyce reminded him one day when Hopper went on a small rant about Mike taking Will and El’s time away from him and Joyce. “He wants to spend time with his friends after watching them almost die all those months ago; there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Maybe if Mike wasn’t his friend, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Hopper!” Joyce swatted his arm playfully and he chuckled before taking her hand in his and pulling her in. The vegetables on the stove were probably going to be roasted black but it would be worth the kisses shared between them at the moment.

It turned out that Mike wasn’t really Will’s friend anyway. Well, not just his friend.

“I think it’s time you guys met my boyfriend.” Will said one night right before dinner. El perked excitedly, Jonathan raised a curious eyebrow, and Hopper crossed his arms with narrowed eyes.

“This boyfriend of yours better understand that he’s not free from my wrath just because you’re a boy.”

Will snorted into his cup of milk and then spent a good minute coughing out what he accidentally inhaled. “I think he knows that pretty well.”

Joyce smiled sweetly and reached out to grab Will’s hand. “You should invite him for dinner one night.”

“I kinda already did.” Will looked over at the door and then smiled to himself. “He’ll be here in a minute.”

As if on cue, a knock rapped against the door. Hopper shot up to his feet and stomped his way over to the door, ready to give this kid a talk about how to treat his step-son. Hopper paused at that thought. He always thought of Will as Joyce’s son no matter how close he and Will had gotten, but this was the first time he thought of Will as his son, too. Hopper’s step-son was Will Byers; his step-son was gay, telepathic, telekinetic, electrokinetic, could walk between dimensions, and had a boyfriend.

Hopper’s step-son was so fucking badass. Yeah, he would definitely fight any boy who dared to break Will’s heart.

He opened the door, looked into shocked brown eyes, and then shut the door. “Will, why is your wretch of a friend here?”

“Mike?” Will rushed to Hopper’s side and yanked the door open. Mike was still standing on the porch but the anxiety in his posture disappeared when he made eye contact with Will. “Hey, you look good tonight.”

Mike was wearing a hoodie over his curled hair along with a pair of black jeans and simple kicks. He pushed a stray curl behind his pierced ear and laughed. “Yeah? Gotta look nice to meet the family, right? You look good, too,” he pointed out, “but you’re you so no surprise there.”

Hopper wanted to melt into the porch floorboards. Will though made things worse when he leaned forward to give Mike a chaste kiss on the cheek. Hopper’s sensibilities came crashing back to Earth with a dizzying speed.

“You’re dating Michael Wheeler?” He quickly turned on Mike. “You’re dating another one of my kids? Didn’t you have enough fun being an eyesore next to El?”

“Hopper!” Joyce yelled from back inside. Will was silently laughing behind his hand and Mike sent him a glare.

“I’m not an eyesore. You can ask El and Will yourself. No need to be jealous that your kids happen to have good taste.”

Will burst out into giggles and Hopper narrowed his eyes. “They have bad taste if you’re the one they fall for. Will, I need to teach you and your sister how to find a man.”

Mike’s jaw dropped and even El was giggling from the dinner table. Will wheezed and patted Hopper’s arm a couple times before reaching out for his boyfriend’s hand. “Thanks but no thanks, Hop. I’ve got all I could love right here with Mike.”

Mike blushed furiously and the look that passed between him and Will made Hopper’s breath catch in his throat. He had seen it before during the final battle against the Upside Down. In fact, he’d seen it a lot since then but never really made note of it. Now that he knew Mike was with Will and they were, well, in love, he knew what exactly that besotted look was.

It was the same way he’d look at Joyce before he realized how deeply he loved her, after he realized, too. It was the look he received when she realized he loved her and that she loved him back. To see such unashamed and joyous love between Mike and Will almost made Hopper’s reservations about Mike dissipate.

He grabbed Mike’s shoulder and the tall kid turned to him with unamused raised eyebrows. “Watch yourself, Mike.”

Mike nodded twice and motioned for Will to go in before him. The boy turned to face Hopper straight on with a strong and serious look on his face. “I love him, too, you know. He’s important, he’s everything, he’s just it for me, you know?” His brown eyes turned to Will before making contact with Hopper once more. “I know I didn’t make a good impression when I was with El and I’m not here to make a good impression with Will, either. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, but we both love Will and you’re not gonna scare me from doing that.”

Hopper had to say Mike was kinda cool standing up for his love for Will. He had definitely matured since dating El. He almost wished El would have dated this Mike, but he also knew El was far happier not worrying about romantic entanglements. Plus, Mike said Will was it for him. It wouldn’t be fair for El or Mike to be together when Mike fully realized who he loved.

“The only time I’ll scare you is if you hurt him.”

“I’ll beat my own ass if I do, but yeah, you’re welcome to join in.”

Hopper laughed, Mike smiled, and maybe things were perfect all along. At least Hopper could sleep at night with the fact that he lived with the most badass family ever and he loved them with all his old man heart could give.

[tibby]

Can you speak more on Steve Harrington's trauma? I've never seen anyone address it, seemingly dismissing his character as just a "dumb mom friend" or whatever...

sure! i’ll stick to the show with this, because even though i have a lot of thoughts wrt steve and his life and why he acts the way he does, it’s all personal interpretation and not actual canon (though would happily discuss those more anytime.)

before i get into any specifics with regards to what steve has been through during the show, i do want to discuss a little about what we can assume of his relationships pre-nancy, and pre-everything: 

canon doesn’t give us a lot to work with in regards to steve’s parents, but based on what we do know, it doesn’t seem good. we can assume that they’re somewhat neglectful and have an unhappy marriage, presumably featuring adultery. he only refers to his father as an asshole or a douchebag and seems reluctant to follow in his footsteps. it seems like he has a slightly better relationship with his mother, but we also don’t know much about her outside of her following his father on business trips because she doesn’t trust him. regardless of how people personally interpret how bad it is, at the very least, he seems lonely and uncomfortable with his family.

up until the final two episodes of season one, we know that steve is king of the school and uses this power to his advantage. but despite his clout, he doesn’t seem to have any actual friends outside of tommy h and carol (and nicole, i guess, but she appears in like three scenes and we don’t really know much about her.) and tommy and carol aren’t good people. it’s not just that they’re horrendous bullies to jonathan and nancy, but they’re not great to steve either, given how quickly tommy turns on him. how quickly he threatens him, and how scared steve is in that moment. and given that tommy participates in mocking steve with billy a year later, it clearly was never that healthy of a friendship. your only friendships being with toxic people who don’t care about you as a person is always going to be damaging, regardless of how “popular” you are.

(steve’s unpleasant family/friendships pre-nancy seem backed up by a quote from the duffers that i can’t read because it’s behind a paywall but is referenced in the wiki: “what kind of family life [Steve] comes from and maybe this girl Nancy is quiet and listens in a way that other people haven’t listened to him at this point.”)

which brings us to the show. steve finds someone, maybe the first person who’s ever really cared about him, the girl he really likes. and he’s protective of her and wants to be with her and ends up fucking up in the process (i maintain that steve had every reason to go after jonathan for the photos, but he was absolutely in the wrong for the slutshaming and the alleyway fight.) 

but the fight shifts something in him, makes him want to right his wrongs, so he finally dumps his toxic friends (one of whom physically threatens him in the process) and goes to apologise. and walks right into a monster trap.

steve gets no context as to what’s happening when the demogorgon shows up, doesn’t get any explanation from jonathan and nancy (not that they’re at fault for that, given the circumstances,) and is basically just confronted with the sudden knowledge that monsters are real. and he ends up saving nancy and jonathan from it.

in an ideal world, the trio would have helped each over with their trauma together and would’ve been friends and would’ve had more natural progressions of their relationships. i don’t like reducing nancy and jonathan’s traumas to Just the monster thing, but it’s how the show tends to handle it, and i really feel like steve’s own trauma with what happened that night should have been addressed even slightly, particularly in relation to the two of them.

(quick sidenote: my issue with the way the show handles jonathan/nancy and their “shared trauma” is a whole other thing, but i really don’t understand how the show can basically reduce it to the fact they fought a monster together, and then leave steve out of the equation entirely. i wouldn’t have an issue if the show actually looked into the trauma both jonathan and nancy have outside of the monster stuff, but since it refuses to develop that, it…bothers me that steve’s role in what happened and resulting trauma is shoved aside, and they both now just ignore his existence entirely.)

but the show didn’t do that, so let’s get into season two, and steve harrington’s very rough week:

gets dumped! it should be noted that i don’t blame nancy for the breakup, nor do i think she was a bad person who set out to harm him. she’s a confused seventeen year old girl dealing with the loss of her best friend, and i don’t think she deliberately led steve on for a year or knowingly lied to him about her feelings. but it’s still going to be hurtful when your significant other reveals that they didn’t love you, they only thought they did. and steve loved nancy, cared about her, took comfort in her - she was the first person to listen to him, to care about him, to like him for who he really was, not for the mask he put on. i wish they’d gotten a proper conversation about their relationship in either season two or three, particularly as the destruction of the high school fairytale (the relationship between the coolest guy in school and the girl next door) is an important element to both their characters. i know steve says that he’s over her in season three, but i still know that that’s an incredibly heartbreaking thing to go through, even if it wasn’t a relationship based on an illusion - the kids that they were before.

gets involved with more monster hunting stuff, this time with a bunch of bratty middle schoolers! overall, i think stranger things handles the collective trauma the entire gang have like…terribly. i find it weird that it’s been three seasons and the only time the party/the teens/jopper are ALL together is in the final two episodes when it’s Boss Battle time. and i know i shouldn’t expect much from a show which barely lets separate people handle their trauma, but i feel like…maybe they should all like, sit and talk and comfort each other? keep an eye on each other? i don’t know. i think the trauma steve has is trauma he would share with all the others, especially since season two properly involves him with all the monster stuff (plus fighting them is hard enough without also having to deal with his past experiences, a big head injury, and the lives of a bunch of thirteen year olds in his hands.)

gets beat up! again! this time it’s not deserved! i really don’t understand why the fandom acts like steve’s repeated injuries each season are a joke and not like…a genuine cause for medical concern within the universe. i get that it’s basically played for laughs in the show and this incident in particular is used to once again highlight how violent billy is. i don’t have much to elaborate on here but i feel like someone needs to check in on steve and all the head related trauma he’s suffered through in the past eighteen months.

and after all of that, steve is just…left on his own to deal with it. he gave up his friends for nancy, and they weren’t particularly good friends in the first place. nancy left him. he and jonathan don’t ever talk. all he has are the kids and it’s not as if he can really talk about his trauma with a bunch of fourteen year olds. out of all the main cast, he’s the one that has the least support when it comes to this. nancy and jonathan have each other. joyce and hopper have each other. the party has each other. the byers family has each other. el and hopper have each other. but steve doesn’t have the same support system, and there’s nothing to suggest in canon that he actually interacts with the other teens/adults.

steve’s left alone in general, really. he maintained somewhat of his social status following the events of st1/st2, since he mentions being prom king to robin, but does he really…have any friends his age? he lost tommy and carol when he chose nancy, and those two latched onto billy (who, again, is someone who hurt steve and who steve does not like.) he and nancy broke up, and considering he shared about ten words with her and jonathan in st3, it’s safe to assume he’s not really friendly with them. and we don’t ever see any acknowledgment that steve has friends his age, even if it’s just…normal people who don’t know about the monster stuff.

it’s not until he meets robin that he really finds someone he can talk about any of this with, and even then it just comes with more trauma. i feel like steve’s experiences tend to get played for laughs and i really got that vibe in season 3. steve was tortured and drugged. he took another beating, arguably his roughest one yet. he and robin both thought they were going to die down there. it’s not really handled at all within the show, but it’s a lot for someone to go through, especially when combined with the past year and a half of steve’s life.

anyway. i don’t think the show will ever actually address steve’s trauma (or anyone’s, really) which is sad because like the others, he’s been through a lot and i think some acknowledgement/discussion of it would further help his character development. but i guess that just isn’t as funny as writing him off as an idiot and a loser.

[mustardprecum]

27 for harringrove please 🥺 (it’dbe appreciated if steve’s the one that’s preggers thank you!)

[27 “I’m pregnant.”]

Steve had decided to try and get pregnant. The notion came to him shortly after El’s birthday, when Steve realized that all his kids were over twenty-one. The abrupt ache of an empty nest got the ball rolling, and after more researching and reading than he’d done during any one year of school, he made his decision.

Most of the people in his life were well meaning when he told them, but also rudely disbelieving. After all, Steve was a single omega in his mid-twenties, mostly living off a trust fund from his parents and a hefty inheritance from his great aunt. Money he was very grateful for, considering he’d never be able to afford owning a house in the new development near downtown with his sporadic part time jobs. 

(Good ol’ Aunt Phyllis would have been stoked to find out that he choosing to be a single parent.) 

The issue with the public perception of his personality was the fact that it was largely based off the person he was in his sophomore and junior year of high school. Steve had grown and changed from the flakey teenager. One could almost say he was literally an adult. 

At least Dustin supported him. Mostly. 

“Steve, you can’t be serious.” 

Dustin sat at the island in Steve’s kitchen, eating a bowl of cut up strawberries that Steve had put out for him. Old habits die hard, and Steve had been one of the few people who could get a young Dustin to eat his fruits and vegetables. “I mean of all the people in Hawkins, in the world, why him?” 

Earl grey tea was kind of gross, but Steve was trying to stop drinking coffee for his caffeine fix. He took his time stirring in a packet of stevia while he considered his answer. 

Billy Hargrove had come along in Steve’s senior year of high school and had promptly become a massive pain in the ass. Although, one thing that set him apart from all the other alpha meatheads was the fact that his taunts and jabs were purely personal for Steve, and never once did he resort to misogyny. 

God, the bar had been so low at that time. 

Over the past ten years, Billy had mellowed out slightly but noticeably. He worked at the mechanic Steve frequented for oil changes and tune ups, and lived in the periphery of Steve’s life because of his association with Max. And he still seized every opportunity to try and rile Steve up by getting in his personal space and commenting on his ‘ugly’ shirts. 

(Steve didn’t know when Billy developed a hatred of polo shirts, but it was apparently long lasting.)  

In the grand scheme of things though, none of it mattered more than one thing: Billy’s genes. He was a dick of the massive variety but goddamn if he hadn’t spent the past ten years being the most gorgeous person Steve had ever seen in his entire life. 

He smoked like a chimney and often had a beer in hand, but his skin was clear, his hair was soft, and his abs were extremely enviable. 

“I don’t want to go through a clinic,” Steve started. He quickly held up his hand before Dustin could start ranting. “I’m not going to ask someone I babysat to donate. I’m not really close with any other alphas in town, and an alpha is my best bet.” 

Dustin knew all of that. As a male omega, Steve would have fertility issues with a beta for scientific reasons he didn’t actually understand. Mike and Lucas had both been presented as options in Dustin’s argument, but the idea was too wrong. 

“Billy is…close enough, but far enough. You know?” Steve set his mug down; he honestly didn’t want to drink his tea. “If he says yes, working on inception will be pretty easy. If he says no, it’s not really a big deal. We’re not friends, so it won’t have to be awkward.” 

Privately, Steve assured himself that it had nothing to do with the crush he used to have on Billy. Therefore, it wasn’t inappropriate to ask. 

“But he’s such a tool,” Dustin said around a mouthful of strawberries. “Do you think he won’t be a tool about it?” 

“God. I know he’s going to be a tool about it. But,” Steve shrugged. “Just think of how cute my baby would be.” 

Dustin raised an eyebrow. 

“I would have a really cute baby, Dustin. And you would have a really cute little baby pseudo-sibling.” 

Poor Dustin, the only child, twenty-three and still wanting that younger sibling. He perked up, still looking skeptical but finally chewing quietly. 

“Plus, it’s all going to be in a contract. No parental or financial obligation,” Steve added to sweeten the deal. “I’ll get a positive test, pay him, and he’ll fuck off to wherever he spends his time.” 

Dustin hummed, drumming his fingers on the table. “I’m still godfather?” 

“Obviously.” 

“Okay,” Dustin bounced, smiling broadly. He was excited for a baby, and when he smiled, he looked like a cheetah cub. “Well, Max said she’d text you his number so…good luck?” 

“Thanks.” 

-

Sending the text was nerve-wracking, even though all he sent was ‘can we get lunch?’ Steve had put his phone face down and tried to distract himself with scrolling through reddit and Tumblr, but waiting for a response was even worse than sending the message. 

He’d followed up with several messages explaining who he was, once it occurred to him that Billy probably had no idea who was texting him. Eventually, Billy finally responded telling Steve to stop blowing up his fucking phone. 

Despite Steve’s fears of Billy’s attitude after that response, he was invited to a Starbucks in between their homes. Steve distantly recalled Max mentioning that she was envious of the studio apartment that Billy was renting over a storefront. How privileged was he that he couldn’t imagine having the same room functioning as the bedroom/living room/public space? 

Billy was already there when Steve arrived. He was sipping a green frappucino and staring down at his phone. 

The last time Steve had seen Billy even in passing was the month before during the Hopper family’s Fourth of July party. He was even more gorgeous than Steve remembered even looking a little grimey like he’d come straight from work. 

“Hey,” he approached the table, trying to smile when Billy’s blue eyes snapped up. “Thanks for meeting me. Mind if I grab a drink real quick?” 

“Depends, pretty boy,” Billy leaned back, smiling in that special way that gave Steve a major sexuality crisis in high school. “Why did you ask me out?” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve whipped his head around as if anyone else cared about the two of them meeting up. No one was looking. He sat down heavily and sighed. “I’m…I have a favor to ask. But I kind of wanted to ease into asking.” 

“Interesting,” Billy drawled. “What could ‘King Steve’ possibly want from little ol’ me.” 

“I’m almost thirty, Billy. Please don’t call me that.” Steve looked down at his hands, maybe this was a bad idea. There was no way Billy would agree to being a donor. 

“Look Harrington, I’m leaving in five minutes so spit it out.” 

“Oh come on,” Steve whined, bouncing his leg. “It’s not the sort of thing you just spit out!” 

Billy slurped loudly at his drink. “You want me to murder someone?” 

“Obviously not. Kind of…the opposite?” Steve winced when his voice went squeaky toward the end. He cleared his throat, deciding to continue because Billy had wrinkled his nose. “Okay, so, I used to babysit a lot and I know how to take care of kids. I miss taking care of kids. And, well, I have money and time, right?” 

“Right,” Billy said blankly. 

“Right,” Steve nodded and took a deep steadying breath. “So I’ve decided that I want to start a family. With a baby. And me. Single.” 

Bringing up starting a family generally brought up the question of Steve finding someone to settle down with. The issue was that he didn’t want a partner or a romantic relationship; he didn’t feel that having a child should presuppose finding a mate.

“But I need a sperm donor and, uh, well,” Steve’s nerves were completely frayed at that point. Which was probably why he ended doing the saddest jazz hands. 

The blank look was gone and Billy’s eyes were practically sparkling, which Steve translated as trouble. He bit his lip, knee still bouncing noisily under the table. 

“A donor,” Billy practically purred. “You want me to get you pregnant.” 

When he phrased it like that, Steve couldn’t help but blush. He cleared his throat, wishing he’d just gotten a drink before bothering to speak to Billy so that he could sip it and buy some time. “Basically. You don’t have to sleep with me, the cup method works fine.” 

“And other than not-sleeping with you,” Billy sounded a little snotty. “What’s in it for me?” 

Only a little mocking was infinitely better than outright refusal. And he was getting to the part Steve was actually comfortable with. “$600 for each attempt,” he said. It was a lowball, but considering it was under the table, the supplemental income wasn’t half bad. “I’m tracking my cycle, so we’d only need to try about two days each month.” 

“And after?” 

Steve paused. “After inception I’ll give you an extra thousand.” 

“No, I mean once you’re pregnant, how does it work?” The serious look on Billy’s face was unnerving. Steve was briefly worried that he was about to say he wanted to stay in the picture. “You know how to take care of kids that don’t go home at the end of the day?” 

“Does anyone?” 

Billy’s face hardened. “You don’t just have a kid on a whim, Harrington,” he said lowly. “Can you actually take care of one for the rest of your life?” 

Living in a town like Hawkins and having a direct relationship with Max meant Steve was familiar with the Hargrove family history. How Billy’s mother abandoned him, how his father abused him, how long he’d lived in that toxic place before finally escaping and taking Max with him when it seemed Neil was turning on her as well. 

Despite how horrible that was, Steve couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest. 

“I don’t yell, I don’t believe in corporal punishment, and I’m on book four of twenty on my parenting book reading list.” He didn’t add that they were all audiobooks because he had such a hard time reading. “I wouldn’t try to have a baby if I wasn’t ready to do everything I could to give them a good life.” 

Steve hoped his face was as open as he wanted it to be as Billy searched him. Of all the reactions he expected, this hadn’t been one. It made him feel better about Billy as a candidate. 

Finally, Billy slurped his frappucino again and grinned wolfishly. “When do we start?”

Continued on AO3