#who knows maybe Steve confronts billy about it and they work something out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hippielittlemetalhead · 2 years ago

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Typing this up on my breaks at work so don't come at me for any errors. Not Harringrove unless you mean in like a Capital P Platonic sense reminiscent of his bond with Robin but also Billy antis need not interact?

Season 2 booiiii!!

(part 1)

Steve coasts through Senior year but the small changes in his appearance and occasionally yelling out his two-bits when Munson goes on one of his lunch table rants only settle him so much and Nancy hasn't said but he knows she's not a big fan and he tries to be a steadying presence. Tries to be someone she can forget it all with and let it go because they're kids who signed NDAs and maybe if he can help her the nightmares will stop and the ringing in his ears won't keep coming and going and he will stop spacing out in class. She gets on him about his grades and college. He figures he'll get a job with his dad, learn the company and have enough of an income that he can support Nancy as she pursues her passions and college and fights to change the world and when he inherits the company he'll be in a position to make real lasting change in small towns like Hawkins.

But then the Hargroves come to town and Billy makes a play for the crown that still sits so heavy on his head. Pushes and antagonizes and tries to get a rise from him. There's something about the way he holds himself, the way he preens and struts and takes up so much space while keeping himself so contained that pricks at the back of Steve's head. He's seeing the dots but they're just not connecting. So he lets Hargrove make the big show of biting at his heels but doesn't rise to any of the challenges. And it seems that with someone like Billy to hide behind Tommy has forgotten what happened when he made a play for the crown himself. Though Steve smiles to himself when he realizes that it's obvious Billy wasn't told that little piece of information when he makes comments about Steve being soft and not willing to fight for his reputation. Billy pushes and taunts and Steve is so tired of him and the metalheads heckling him for being punk one minute then calling him a poser the next and trying to keep up appearances for Nancy and the people in town who would report him to his parents before he's ready if he really dressed and behaved the way he wanted to and the government goons he knows have been keeping an eye on Hawkins since that night.

Steve stumbles but he doesn't fall.

Then Tina's Halloween party happens and the girl he loves and is building his future around is calling him and everything they've said and done and promised bullshit. Tommy and Co are still hyping up Hargrove beating Steve's official record as he makes his way out of the house instead of showing off his refined skills from that summer in [insert major big city] that started him on this path to becoming the person he wants to be. He saw Byers around, he knows he'll get her home safe.

Nancy confronts him about not picking her up for school. He won't break up with her behind the school gymnasium of all places but he tells her about everything being bullshit by her own statement, gives her a chance to say she loves him and hopefully mean it, and when she doesn't take it he walks away. He plans to talk to her that weekend. Plans to punk up a little even if she doesn't like it cause it makes him feel safer and more centered, take her flowers and apologize for the way he handled it but call them off. Instead he gets Dustin -one of the kids he's given a ride or two to the arcade with Mike when he and Nancy were headed to the movies or the diner- and monsters and another kid he gives rides to and some random spitfire of a girl. He's angry and sad and scared and he makes sure his heavy leather jacket is zipped up before heading out of the bus to draw out the dog shaped monsters. He needs to keep them safe and if he can hit something bloody in the process that's a win-win.

They end up back at the Byers' place. There's a plan and his part is keeping the kids safe as his now officially ex-girlfriend follows and comforts the boy she is willing to bear her claws for. The plan does not include Billy Hargrove showing up for the random spitfire girl who is apparently his little sister. The plan does not include Billy holding one of his kids (yes it's only been a couple hours but they're HIS to protect godsdammit) up by the front of his shirt and threaten him. The plan does not include a fight that starts with Billy laughing something about finally meeting King Steve and ending with the refrigerator being knocked open and the dead demodog falling out between two scared bloody teenagers who know too much about monsters. The plan does not include Billy Hargrove almost sounding scared as he snaps something about Max going with him because he was not letting her just sneak out to fight monsters with dumbasses trying to get themselves killed and someone named Neil already knowing she was gone and she was lucky Billy hadn't mentioned the Sinclair boy when saying she was probably out with her new friends. It definitely doesn't include Max looking like she finally figured out a particularly hard puzzle and telling Billy if he helped them and helped Steve keep them safe in the tunnels then the chief of police would not only know he was trustworthy and useful but maybe even be indebted for helping make sure the chief's daughter survived her part of the plan.

It makes the dots line up and connect when that makes Billy pause and tentatively ask vague half-questions that he only seemed to trust Max to be able to answer.

Steve decides he hates Neil Hargrove after they've made it through the tunnels easy as anything with Billy taking point so Steve can take up the rear and keep the kids between them. After Billy pulls Dustin away from the weird flower thing that almost got the kid in the face and pulls Mike up and away once Steve got the vine to let go of his leg. After Hopper comes back to see them covered in dirt and soot but grinning victoriously and he had them walk him through what happened so they're all on the same page when the suits decide to show up. After Max pulls Hopper and Billy aside and Steve is able to catch snippets about an asshole and bruises on his face but his knuckles unharmed so she knows he wasn't getting into fights. Steve decides he hates Neil Hargrove and maybe he and Billy have more in common than he thought.

It's not easy after that. The nightmares are still bad but now he and Billy have an understanding and a codeword and a system for whose turn it is to drive when neither of them can sleep. The ringing is a little worse and a little more consistent and his left(? I can't remember if it's his left or right eye that keeps getting messed up) eye gets a little fuzzy when he's tired or stressed. His grades suffer but with Billy's help he's at least able to make it into the local community college once he graduates even if the fancy university his parents wanted him to attend rejected him. El seems intrigued by Steve's look, calls him 'bitching' like she calls Nancy 'pretty' and says he reminds her of her sister and Hopper doesn't seem as big a fan of that but acknowledges that Steve is good babysitter material which will be needed if El is going to be joining society again sooner than he wanted. Max and Billy work with Hopper and Joyce in wearing down Susan to leave Neil or at least make it known that the chief is well aware of what type of man he is and will not stand for it in his town.

That comes to a head when Max and Lucas are unofficially each other's date to the Snowball dance and Neil finds out that Billy knew and even encouraged it (because his sister deserves nice things dammit and this boy was close enough for now... But he's watching and will do his big brother duty if necessary), taking Max there and being seen talking sternly to the Sinclair boy before shaking his hand. Hopper ends up having to lead Neil Hargrove away in handcuffs and Max stays with him and El while Susan files for divorce and custody of Billy through a swollen eye and Steve makes a point of getting Billy his schoolwork and chauffeuring the kids to keep him company during his brief stay in the hospital. Life isn't all good, but it's getting better.

Then Steve's parents come home.

It was thankfully a day The Party and Co weren't over and a recovered Billy was busy applying for summer jobs and he'd deep cleaned the common rooms because that one dusty shelf just rubbed him the wrong way now that the kids weren't around to distract him and the sides of his hair had grown out some so it looked more like the type of haircut he used to have freshman year if a little longer up top. It was unfortunately the day after his father had actually listened to the latest messages and read the end of the year report cards concerning his son's graduation. It was unfortunately a day when Steve was in a shirt that had the sleeves and parts of the sides cut off and showcased his ribs showing the palm sized petal faced Demogorgon head he got the spring break after the first round of interdimensional horror. It was unfortunately a day when [insert pretentious name] Harrington decided that since Steve was 18, couldn't make it into any 'acceptable school' and was obviously not planning on being a proper Harrington man then he was cut off, he knew about the trips to Indianapolis (not all of them but enough) he knew about the music and the parties (even if Steve hadn't thrown one in years), knew Steve was involved in something that had the government coming around and making them look bad in front of the neighbors. He knew about the subtle pins and patches on the jacket hanging by the front door and he wouldn't have that in his house.

So Steve is out by the end of the week. Everything he wants from his room and the house fits into the trunk of the car his dad had signed over as a birthday/graduation gift before the infodump that led them here. He has some money saved from the allowance his parents used to send and a job lined up at the mall opening at the edge of town and the trust fund that his grandparents set up that his father can't touch but neither can Steve before he's 21. He winds up at the door of Hopper's cabin, blurts out that he likes men as much as women, isn't quite an anarchist but it's close some days and his parents found out and it didn't end well before the man can ask what was going on as he opens the door. Hopper lets Steve sleep on their couch while he and Joyce sort out fixing up the old trailer. Billy and El and Nancy and Jonathan help but Steve doesn't want the rest of the kids to know yet. Not with Max still settling after the legal battle with Neil, Lucas at her side trying to help her as best he can, Will recovering from being possessed, Dustin getting ready to go to summer camp and Mike getting over whatever he's being petty about this time (don't want to give the kid more fuel for that fire).

So Steve is mostly moved in to the old trailer by the time he starts at Scoops Ahoy and meets his coworker Robin Buckley. His kids are safe and getting to be kids, his people are all taken care of (Nancy and Jonathan with summer internships and Billy taking Steve's old lifeguard position), the gate is closed, he is set to start some Gen Ed courses at the local community college the next semester and he's heard tell of a decent band that's started playing at The Hideout some weeknights so that will be fun to have something like that closer than Indianapolis.

Life isn't perfect, but it's good. It's getting better.

(part3.1)

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littlewinter1917 · 2 years ago

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Groupie Love

Chapter Four ✿ Clear Up

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI. 🔞 Don’t repost my work anywhere.

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: Your best friend’s band has been taking off, ever since you’ve both started uni. But when you come back from a semester abroad, you find yourself confronted with both: Your lingering feelings for your best friend Eddie, and unexpected ones for their new drummer, Billy; someone you also have quite the past with…

Words: 9.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You come face to face with Billy during the party and finally have a talk. But the confrontation with your childhood best friend takes a different turn than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: More tensions, and some angst, but also quite a bit of hurt/comfort. Some swearing and brief talks about past child abuse (nothing explicit) but still more than in previous chapters.

A/N: I am BACK! And I'm honestly terribly sorry for not updating this sooner!! Life's been quite something, but I hope that I won't disappear from the face of the earth and my word document for such a long time again! If you're still interested in this story after all these months, thank you! And a big thank you the people who continue to comment, I really, truly appreciate it!! As a first apology, here's a 9.1k chapter of Billy and the Reader finally having a much needed talk!

Previous Chapter

The party is in full swing even though it’s only been a couple of hours since your friends managed to fill out the first draft of papers tying them to a record label.

It’s not completely official yet, since setting up those kinds of contracts isn’t something that’s done on a whim or in the span of a single meeting; but it has become pretty clear that Capitol Records are quite serious and adamant in their offer of wanting to sign Eddie and his bandmates.

The shared excitement over this outcome is reason enough for a small get-together, and just like Steve promised, a celebration is in order, even if it’s supposed to be low-key, because nobody wants to jinx anything when it comes to the future.

In this context however, ‘low-key’ only means that the party mostly consists out of your best friends and a few more people who are closer to the band than to you, leaving you to spot the occasional face that looks rather familiar but not familiar enough to be able put a name to it.

But in all honestly, you don’t really care too much about any of that right now, because whenever you do let your gaze wander through the open space of your friends’ living room, you do it with only one particular face in mind that you hope to spot.

Billy’s.

You haven’t seen the guy in question even once since getting here, despite having been in the flat he shares with Steve, Eddie, and Argyle for at least a bit over an hour.

Granted, you didn’t go out of your way to search for him either, but the open living room and kitchen space is not occupied by a whole lot of people, so it’s not like those sandy curls would drown out in the masses.

You start to wonder if he decided to move the party to his bedroom instead.

Maybe with a pretty face or two.

Remembering last night’s events is enough to strengthen your determination to not go looking for him there. You don’t need to see him getting felt up by two pretty ladies or vice versa. Once at the concert yesterday was enough, thank you very much.

Besides, if he’s comfortable enough to behave like that in public places, you don’t really want to know what you might walk into if you step unannounced into his bedroom.

Yikes!

So, instead, you nibble nervously at the straw of your cherry coke that Steve got you mere minutes ago, nodding your head absentmindedly to something Chrissy’s saying while your gaze drifts once more through the space of the apartment, trying to find a certain head of blond curls or alternatively a certain set of blue eyes.

After the events at the café, and Billy’s unprovoked and slightly cryptic comment, you’re still fuming with anger.

An anger that only intensified after he left, and you got the opportunity to think over the things he said - some passive aggressive jab about not following through on one’s words.

And the silent accusation that slipped through with it, almost unceremoniously thrown your way, was enough to make you see red.

He’s not in a position to be angry with you, at least not as far as you’re concerned.

At this point you don’t even care about setting things straight - Jonathan’s previous idea about some possible misunderstanding now completely forgotten. No, right now you just want to confront Billy and give him a pretty piece of your mind for a change too.

After the hurt he’s put you through, it’s certainly a bold move to point his fingers dripping with accusations in your direction, implying something you’re not even sure you understand.

Either way, it’s a shitty move, and it’s not one you’re particularly impressed with.

Still, Billy’s nowhere to be found, and while you feel guilty about the fact that your mind is currently occupied with this, rather than the celebrational sentiment that has taken over your friends, you can’t quite help it - not when the resentment of your childhood days keeps bubbling up, almost cooking over with no means to turn off that stove.

You’re angry, and Billy’s offhanded comment was the small spark you needed to really get fired up. It’s now an almost furious burning flame flickering somewhere hidden in your chest, growing bigger with each passing minute, as your mind keeps adding things you would want to say to Billy if he ever does shows up.

With a mind that preoccupied, it’s difficult to pay attention to anything else, and even though you try your best as you listen to Eddie’s and Steve’s excited ramblings, it’s hardly working. Not when the blaring absence of one guy in particular is taking over the better half of you mind and all of your thoughts.

Your inner turmoil, however, is not something any of your friends seem to notice, nor do you want them to, but when Steve starts talking lightheartedly about a funny thing Billy did earlier, you feel yourself get rather agitated.

You take this as your cue to step outside for a bit, hoping to find some comfort on the deserted balcony instead.

The fresh air that immediately greets you as you close the door behind you has a cooling effect on both your body and your mind, and you feel yourself relax slightly, as you focus solely on your breathing whilst gazing out into the night.

You’re not sure how long you stand there after walking towards the edge of the balcony, hands resting against the railing as you take in the dark shapes of the trees and bushes of the garden below.

The only indicator of time passing, and drifting by, are the subdued melodies of the music that slip through the closed balcony door and into the surrounding late summer night.

It’s a chaotic mix of songs, representative of the group of friends you call your own, and so it’s no surprise that Echo and the Bunnymen is followed by Wham! which in turn is followed by Judas Priest and so on.

Currently there’s Prince being played if you’re not mistaken, but the tune is getting regularly interrupted by the earnest and bright laughter of your friends, making it harder to identify the song that’s being played in the background.

For a moment, you lose yourself in the feeling of knowing you’re finally back home, finally back where you belong.

The realization of how much you truly missed even the smallest things, like the quiet, cannabis-induced giggles of Jonathan and Argyle hits a nerve deep inside of you, and it resonates all through the night as you look up into the starry sky, trying to find a familiar constellation.

You stay like that for another heartbeat or two, so deeply lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear or notice the balcony door open and closing again.

“So, this is where you’re hiding.” A deep and raspy voice suddenly calls out to you.

Billy.

You hate how the mere sound of his voice has shivers running down your spine. And despite the fact that you’ve been looking for him all evening, anticipating the inevitable confrontation that’s due like heavy rain after the continuous storm brewing deep inside of you, you silently curse his sudden appearance.

This is not how you imagined this confrontation to go; not with him finding you and riling you up. It should be the other way around if anything.

“I’m not hiding.” You state, without a single glance back at the man behind you.

You don’t care.

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself, but your heart hasn’t gotten the memo yet, apparently.

You’ll just send it through once more, like those stupid little letters of yours, again, and again, and again; just because Billy never responded doesn’t mean your heart won’t at some point.

Hah! That memory certainly helps, as the anger inside you grips you tighter and you in return tighten your grip on the balcony banister, steading yourself and your thoughts.

You’re in for a surprise, asshole, you think.

“Huh, you’re not hiding? Sure looks like it, though.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mumble, “besides, what are you doing out here then?”

“Well, you see, I have this controversial little habit called smoking, which gives me the excuse to step out here and hide, without making it as blatantly obvious as you do.”

Billy’s voice is only accompanied by the sound of his zippo and slightly muffled by a cigarette tugged between his lips.

Ignore him, you think.

He’s just trying to push your buttons, like he apparently does with everyone else.

But you’re not in the mood.

And you doubt you ever will be.

Besides, what would Billy Hargrove possibly need to hide from these days?

“Don’t you have people to entertain?”

Or groupies to fuck, you think.

Though, you know that’s quite uncalled for. He’s allowed to do whatever he wants, and who he sleeps with is entirely none of your business. You know you’re in no position to judge or hold grudges.

Still, there’s something unnamed that feels slightly sickly at the memories from last night, and you lightly shake your head to rid yourself of those pictures before continuing to ignore Billy’s presence a little longer.

There’s a silence taking hold of the night. Or as much of a silence as there can be with a party in full swing only a few feet away.

You can still hear the faint traces of music, but unlike before it is now also accompanied by the quick beating of your heart ringing in your ears.

This is the moment you’ve been waiting for; the moment you’ve been thinking of all night, the moment you can finally give Billy a piece of your mind.

But now that you have it, now that the moment has found itself within your reach, almost securely held in your grasp, there’s a sudden and unexpected apprehension taking over your body.

It’s almost like Billy’s mere presence has shifted something inside of you. Something that swallows a good portion of your anger, until there’s mostly nervousness left.

Luckily you’re not the only one seemingly unsure of what to do, as Billy keeps shuffling his feet uncomfortably, but other than that doesn’t move or say anything, doesn’t join you at the edge of the balcony where you’re still standing, your back turned against him, trying to feign disinterest.

There’s the deafening silence once more, or maybe it never really left, and it’s threatening to swallow you whole.

With another deep breath you try to steady yourself, about to say all the things you’ve been thinking about.

The things that have been swirling around in your mind all night, the things you’ve laid out neatly like tomorrows outfit on the tip of your tongue, the things you wanted to know since you were a child, the things you thought about all throughout your teenage years, the things that haunt you even now, but Billy beats you to it.

“Why?” he suddenly asks, and you can’t help but furrow your brows.

What?

“Why didn’t you write me a single letter?” His words hover in the air like some kind of U.F.O and their meaning feels almost just as alien.

To say you’re stumped and confused would be an understatement. For a brief moment you’re seriously considering if you’ve been talking out loud, but the voice speaking was unmistakably Billy’s.

You try hard to make sense of his words, but no matter how you twist and turn them, you can’t really wrap your mind around what he’s saying either way.

Billy huffs at your continuous silence, yet it’s not a mocking one, but one with a deep, underlying ocean of hurt that shines through clearly. He stays quiet for a beat longer before he whispers,

“I just don’t understand why…”

There’s an emotionality in Billy’s voice that has something inside of you perk up immediately. Something that longs to comfort him, like you did years and years ago when you were still kids. It’s surreal that even after all this time, that part within you still exists, and you grip the edge of the balcony tighter again, trying to keep yourself from reaching out towards him.

But it’s no use, you’ll have to turn around eventually, and no steading grip on the cold metal of the balcony could have prepared you for the look of betrayal swimming in Billy’s eyes that hauntingly greets you once you do turn around.

“What do you mean?” You state, eyebrows still drawn together, clueless and confused, but the previous anger is back in your chest at the implication that you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain, of the promise, you two shared such a long time ago.

You did all of the things that you talked about back then, all the things you promised each other, yet here’s Billy telling you that you didn’t.

Who does this guy even think he is? Playing the victim as if he wasn’t the culprit, as if he didn’t break your heart into a million little pieces.

Pieces that still cut deeply and sharply, leaving you scarred, and scared, and overthinking for years, what you could have possibly done so utterly wrong as to deserve the silent treatment from the guy you always considered your bestest friend.

The guy you held the most dear to your heart.

The guy who meant more than the world itself to you for the longest time.

“What do you mean I didn’t write you any letters? I wrote you so many fucking letters for months!”

Years even, you think, but you don’t want to get into that now. Instead, it’s time for you to air some of your grievances too.

“You were the one who never answered even once! You were the one who wouldn’t return a single phone call, or good forbid send me a single letter back! You were the one who broke our fucking promise! Not me! And now you have the fucking audacity to accuse me of breaking promises you never kept. That’s a bold move even from you, William!”

With the way his name drips from your lips in pure venom and distaste you might as well have called him every ugly name under the sun, and it would still have hurt less. Billy actually takes a few stumbling steps back, like he’s been shot, his blue eyes wide and full of confusion.

“What?” He whispers, “what are you talking about?”

There’s a heartbeat of silence as the two of you try to make sense of the other. Of the words spoken, and unspoken, and all the little things in between.

“I’ve never gotten a single letter.” Billy’s voice is so quiet and utterly confused, that you’d almost believe him.

Almost.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never gotten any letter either, and I swear I’ve actually send mine, so, since I know I’m not lying…”

You don’t need to finish your sentence, the accusation swimming between the lines is clear.

There a mix of deep hurt and coldness settling in Billy’s eyes as he regards you with a furious stare.

“You think I’m lying?”

For the first time tonight, he starts to raise his voice, and instinctively you take a step back, the cold metal of the balcony suddenly pressing hard against your spine.

“You think I’m fucking making this up? I’ve send you so many letters for so long! Way to fucking long! And to think that I even spend most of my goddamn pocket money on those fucking stamps, and for what? For you to act all clueless, pretending you didn’t get any letters and instead accuse me of lying? I didn’t break a single promise, you did! You never send me anything back! If you didn’t want any contact with me after you left you could have just said so, instead I waited months – months, for any word, any letter, anything from you!”

There’s a light sheen of unshed tears shimmering in Billy’s eyes, magnified only by the moonlight, before he whispers, voice defeated and quiet again:

“You abandoned me.”

A broken heartbeat of silence with the weight of the world hangs between you two before he continues,

“You abandoned me just like my mom did, even though you promised me you never would.”

Being shot straight through the heart, and then some, would probably hurt less than those few words tumbling out of Billy’s mouth, and for the first time tonight, your childhood best friend’s words truly settle in your mind as you actually consider the option of him telling the truth.

The truth of how he’s never gotten any of your letters.

But if he’s never gotten any letters, and you’ve never gotten any letters, yet you’re both adamant about having send them for months and months, what the hell went wrong along the way?

“Billy,” you mumble, voice suddenly thick with emotions as the realization that you both must have been slave to the wrong narrative this whole time takes root in your heart.

“Billy, I’ve never abandoned you. I promised you then that I would never ever dream of doing that, and I still stand by that now. I swear that I wrote you so many letters for such a long, long time.”

Neither of you say anything for another moment or two, until suddenly there a horrible realization falling into place in your mind, and the feeling that comes with it is of such a deep, sickening kind, that you almost feel like throwing up.

“Billy,” your childhood best friend’s name falls from your lips in a quiet whisper, yet the alarm peeking through in your voice, woven into the two syllables is hard to miss.

“Billy, where did you send your letters to?”

The man in question looks at you dumbfounded, like you’ve just asked him if he spells his name with a P instead of a B.

“What do you mean, where did I send my letters to? I’ve send them to the address you gave me.”

“Which address?” You press, and Billy lets out a sigh full of annoyance and irritation.

“The address of your home in Indianapolis, of course. Which other fucking address would I send it to, huh?”

“Oh god,” you mumble, as the first puzzle piece of what must have happened gets officially verified for you.

“What?” Billy asks, “what other address is there? Why would you ask me something like this- where else would I-“

“And you’ve never gotten a single letter from me, not even once?” You inquire again, just to make sure.

“Not a single fucking one. Why-“

“Billy-”

You can’t help the way your body decides to step closer to the boy you once cared so deeply about. Your hand reaching out tentatively as your fingertips gently brush against his.

“Billy, we never moved into that place in Indianapolis. We spend like two nights there before my mom got the call to move to Hawkins instead. After that we packed all of our stuff and drove there immediately. I told you all about that in my first few letters. The new address, the new landline number, everything.

I never even considered the option that you might have not gotten any of those letters, I really thought you knew. But if you didn’t, and instead just kept sending all your letters to the address in Indianapolis, it would explain why I never got any of them ever.”

“You’re kidding,” Billy whispers, but the look in your eyes tells him you really aren’t.

Not even in the slightest.

“So, all the letters I’ve written never reached you because I had the fucking wrong address?”

Billy’s voice sounds almost breathless, like the mere realization has knocked all air from his lungs with a heavy punch.

“But if you didn’t live there wouldn’t these letters just get send back to me with some notice? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten any of my own letters delivered back to me.”

Billy is now talking more to himself than to you, yet his eyes reflect the question as his gaze finds yours again.

“And why wouldn’t I get any of your letters? I mean, you knew my address, and that one didn’t change until many months later-“

“Besides,” you quickly add, “you never did return my phone calls either.”

This time the words don’t leave your mouth in the hue of an accusation but as a simple statement.

“Right, why wouldn’t-“ Billy starts but he suddenly stops and for a second there’s flash of recognition crossing his face, eyes widening as he remembers something, before going incredibly pale.

“Oh no,” he whispers, “but he wouldn’t go that far, would he?”

And it takes you a few seconds longer before the penny finally drops for you too, and it’s the look in Billy’s eyes that mostly gives it away – a look that you’ve only witnessed when he’s talking about-

“Neil.” You whisper, and as Billy’s gaze darts back to you, you can see his answer reflected in them clear as day.

He’s thinking the same thing.

“He never really liked you,” Billy mumbles, and you huff.

“I think that feeling was more than a little mutual.”

There’s the hint of a smile playing on Billy’s lips, but it’s gone again as quickly as it came.

“He always thought you were a bad influence on me, with your dolls, and your shell necklaces, and Mr. Sniffles.”

“Oh my god, Mr. Sniffles!” you exclaim at the memory of your favorite stuffed animal.

The one Billy got you for your fourth birthday - a small rabbit with floppy ears and the softest fur, who shared your bed all throughout elementary and middle school, and secretly throughout high school as well.

Rumor has it actually, that that little bunny inhabits your bedroom even now, albeit on a shelf.

“God! Me, and Mr. Sniffles were the worst influence back then. We, with our dubious shell-necklace business; the true horrors of the whole entire west coast.” you joke lightly and Billy snorts, eyes twinkling with amusement before turning serious again.

“He always said you’d turn me weak and into a girl; that I probably was such a pathetic pussy at least partly because of you.”

“I know,” you state, shrugging your shoulders, trying to fight your heavy heart, “I still remember his tantrum when you came home wearing that flower necklace I made you. He wouldn’t let either of us eat any dinner that night and immediately called my mom to pick me up instead.”

“Right, or the day I got home from your sleepover, and you had painted my nails a vibrant pink.”

Oh god, you remember that day even more vividly. It had been a few days after your sixth birthday.

One of your aunts had gifted you a little make-up set which included three different nail polishes: A vibrant pink, a dark purple, and a green that looked almost toxic.

You had always loved the color pink, and so, naturally, you decided to make immediate use of that nail polish.

When Billy had come over for a sleepover a few days later, he’d been silently eyeing the three bottles all throughout the day, until finally, he timidly asked you if you could paint his nails too.

And you were more than happy to, even though your mom had to help a little, since your motoric skills weren’t particularly your strong suit yet – the vibrant mess of pink stuck all over your little fingers being the best evidence for that.

But your mom was a great teacher, guiding your hand, and even letting Billy try doing it himself for a bit, after he had decided to go with the color pink as well, so you and him could match the way real best friends were supposed to.

That night, you and Billy spend a lot of time whispering excitedly about all the possibilities of sharing nail colors with one another.

Maybe you two could try violet next, or maybe the green, or surely there must be a blue the color of the ocean out there trapped in a glass bottle just like yours, Billy wondered, and wouldn’t it be great to carry the color of the place he called home the most on the very tips of his fingers?

The possibilities seemed endless and the two of you continued to scheme little plans and nail color dreams all throughout the night until both of your eyes grew too heavy with sleep and exhaustion.

But there was a nightmare right around the corner the next day when Billy had to go home, and Neil somehow had a completely different opinion on those brightly colored nails of Billy’s, that the boy previously had been so utterly proud of.

When you saw Billy the next day after that, there was a big bruise on his face, and his fingers were still red, almost bloody even, from having been scrubbed so hard until there were no traces left of the pink nail polish you two had shared earlier.

Billy didn’t have to tell you what happened, the teary-eyed look he gave you was enough for you to get the picture, even though you couldn’t understand what Neil could possibly dislike about such a nice shade of pink on the tips of someone’s fingers.

And Billy wasn’t allowed to visit you after that for at least a month, and future sleepovers were completely out of the window.

You had tried to comfort Billy that day, even though you didn’t understand the reasoning behind his father’s violent explosion. Still, you had scrubbed off your nail polish too, as soon as you got home, a deep shame settling in your stomach mixed with a lot of guilt at the memory of Billy’s tender and raw fingers.

It was your nail polish that had gotten him into trouble.

Your favorite color of pink that had earned Billy a violet bruise on his freckled face.

That incident with Billy left a deep impression on you even as a kid, and for the longest time you festered and grew a deep distain for any nail polish, leaving you to avoid them altogether.

This rather sudden change was something your mom witnessed with much confusion and slight concern, and it wasn’t until many, many moons later at the end of middle school, when you and Chrissy had one of your sleepovers, that you finally decided to give some rosy nail polish another try, after much determined persuasion.

But even now, the memory of Billy and his bruised fingers lingers in your mind with a vividness as if it happened yesterday, and the mere memory has you feeling chocked up again too.

But with it also, as always, bubbles up a deep, deep hatred for his dad.

A man, that as far as you could remember had always been displeased with his son. You never understood why Billy’s father would always have such a furious rage at anything Billy would do or say, or not do and not say.

It seemed like no matter what Billy did, he never did it the right way – at least in the angry eyes of his dad he didn’t.

You never liked his father; something that started out with just a simple uneasiness that you couldn’t quite place, but that quickly grew bigger and bigger into something stronger, as you started to learn about the origins of Billy’s bruises and scabs.

And the older you got, and the more you understood, the more anger would build in the pit of your stomach at the thought of that monster, that Billy had been forced to face all throughout your childhood together.

Especially after Billy’s mom left and your best friend was suddenly exposed to twice as much volatile force, until Susan and little Max came into their lives, but even that never saved Billy from being the scapegoat number one.

And the day you left, you didn’t just cry big tears because you wouldn’t see your Billy again for a long, long time; or because you would miss him dearly, or because no person in the world could surely take over that place in your heart that Billy had occupied ever since you first saw him and his dolphin-decorated lunchbox.

No, you also cried because you were terrified for him.

Terrified, because Billy would now be all alone with the wrath of his father and no one to turn to.

Whose shoulder would he cry into now?

Who would hug him tight and tell him that it’s alright, that he’s loved and strong, and the most special boy in all of California?

Who would reassure him every day that he’s still your bestest friend?

Who would praise his surfing skills now?

Who would tug on his sleeve lightly whenever he’s running off to quickly, about to get into trouble again?

Who would keep him safe from now on?

Because in your mind, you were supposed to protect him; despite being smaller and a little younger than Billy, you wanted to keep him right there by your side at all times, forever and always.

And while fighting his dad was hardly an option, at the very least you were able to dry Billy’s tears afterwards. Comfort him with the help of Mr. Sniffles and your crooked, teethy smile.

Even back in kindergarten you would take up that task, pretending to kiss Billy’s tears away with your stuffed animal the way your mother always did when you were in a teary mood.

And naturally you would do the same for Billy, until a soft giggle would bloom up in his chest and bubble out with a timid laugh and for a brief moment both of your hearts felt lighter, and the world didn’t have scary Neil in it; just you and Billy - and maybe Mr. Sniffles.

“You know,” Billy continues quietly, pulling you out of your thoughts, “that day when you left, I wanted to call you immediately, but my father said that I wasn’t allowed to, and that I’d do better not to speak to you ever again. But a few days later, when he went out on some trip, I saw that as my chance to try and hear your voice again, and tell you how much-“

Billy’s voice doesn’t just crack at the weight of the memory. It completely breaks, and the shards pierce through your heart ferociously.

Like second nature, instinctively, your hand slips into his, giving it a tight squeeze. Trying to reassure him in some way; the only way you’ve ever known: Soft words and even softer touches – the two things that worked like a soothing balm on Billy’s soul back then, and unbeknownst to you still work even now.

“It’s alright, Billy.” You whisper.

I’m right here. the soft squeeze of your hand says.

And I’m not going anywhere.

Billy takes in a deep breath, before continuing.

“He wasn’t supposed to come home that night, and I thought-“

Another timid voice break.

Another squeeze of your hand.

Another silent whisper full of reassurance.

“I thought I could finally be reunited with you again, even if it was just your voice. I was so scared that you might have forgotten me already. That maybe you had made better friends in the few days that had passed, and I just wanted to hear you same my name again once more, just once.”

You don’t notice the tears running down your cheeks until a big sniffle startles you, and it takes you a second to realize that you're the culprit.

“The phone had already been ringing for a while when he suddenly came back. He must have forgotten his hat, or his jacket, or something, and I had been so giddy at the prospect of hearing your voice again, that I didn’t notice it until it was too late, and-“

You feel Billy’s fingers tremble in your hand, as the unmistakably horrifying memories of the things that transpired that very day must be coming rushing back.

“He caught me with the phone still in my hand, and he was so, so angry. I remember him tearing the whole phone from the wall in his rage and I-“

Billy doesn’t want to rehash all the details of that night, nor do you expect him to, and while your hand squeezes his once more, the urge to really hug close him gets incredibly strong, almost unbearably so. The squeeze of your hand simply isn’t enough anymore, but for now you can hold yourself off, stifle and suffocate the growing need to hold him tight, as Billy continues his story.

“The phone was broken for weeks after that because my dad thought that it would serve as a great additionalpunishment for my ‘crimes’. Besides, this way he could really make sure that I won’t disobey his orders again. And it wasn’t until almost a month later that he got that fucking phone fixed, after Susan brought it up enough times.”

You’re stumped at that story, your heart tightening and breaking at the image of Billy trying to call you, only to be surprised by a monster of a father.

And to think you had been angry at him for so long, always assuming that Billy purposefully didn’t return your phone calls, just to now find out that he didn’t even have a phone to call for a few weeks, just because he had wanted to call you first instead.

“Oh, Billy,” you whisper while stepping even closer to him.

There are no words deep enough to express the profound sorrow you feel at the recount of his story.

No words that could mirror the way your heart is giving out at the things he must have gone through.

All these bruises that no one would kiss better.

All these tears that no one would wipe away with the softest of touches.

All his suffering experienced completely on his own, with no means to share it with anyone else.

No means to be seen with all this hurt.

No one to ease at least some of his pains and reassure him that this is not his fault. Never his fault.

“Billy, I was so angry for so long, thinking you didn’t want me as your friend anymore, but in reality none of it was true, was it? I’m sorry I ever doubted your promises, and I’m sorry I accused you of lying I really thought-“

“It’s quite alright.” Billy mumbles, eyes darting across the tiles of the balcony.

“I thought the same thing; convinced myself that maybe you didn’t want me as a friend anymore. You always had to look after me then, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you were relieved to give that up and find new friends who were less troubled.”

“Oh, Billy, no! There’s no way of replacing you! There never was, and there never will be. And looking after you was never a chore, never a burden; not even in a bajillion years! I just wish I could have done more back then. I wish I would have found a way to take you with me and away from your dad forever.”

For a moment both you and Billy lose yourselves in the idea of what could have been, if you had succeeded in smuggling Billy with you, via your pink suitcase maybe.

Would his path been the same, Billy wonders. Or would he be a completely different guy now? A guy who was free to wear nail polish and flower necklaces, and just be himself from a young age, instead of being molded into something that feels so much like his father to him now.

Would he be less angry, less reactionary, less hungry for love, maybe?

He feels like a monster so many times.

A monster that swallows everything in his path, all the crumbs he can get, and it’s still never enough.

Never enough love, or reassurance, or all the other things he craves but doesn’t even dare to put into words, scared of the power they might hold if he admitted them out loud.

But with you it’s slightly different, because you already speak the same secret language, and it’s easy to fall back into it; let you see things no one else gets to see. Shares things no one else gets to witness.

You’ve always held him so close, that he still dreams vividly of it even these days, so many years later.

But right now, in this very moment, as he’s faced with you, so up close and near, the urge to be held again might have never been stronger.

Silence takes shape between you two for a heartbeat longer until you muster to ask the question that’s been sitting impatiently on top of your tongue for a while now.

“Did the situation with your dad ever get any better o-over time, I mean?”

You had always hoped it did, but the brief flash of pain that crosses Billy’s face tells you otherwise before he softly shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper, throat constricting, as you have to face the truth of your worst nightmares.

And the idea of Billy having to face that kind of monster at home all throughout these years makes you want to rip your own heart out and swallow it whole.

It would hurt less that way, you think.

You can’t hold the urge to reach out and hug Billy close at bay anymore, and in the flash of a second, your arms wrap around Billy’s waist while your face collides with his chest.

The motion takes Billy by surprise, but only for a stumbling heartbeat or two, until he wraps his arms around you securely as well, and for a moment the world feels like it stopped spinning completely.

“Billy I missed you so much,” you admit in a whisper, and Billy, who’s been fighting a battle against his tears for the better part of the evening, ever since confronting you, finds himself conceding as the first few big tears begin to slip out.

“I missed you too.” His voice is soft yet hoarse, emotions thick in every syllable and motion.

You lift your head up for a moment, gazing at Billy who finds himself gazing back at you too.

There are tears running down both of your cheeks now, relief in your eyes mirroring the other, and a sobbed laugh bubbles up in the two of you as the realization of having your bestest friend back in your arms, takes hold on both of your hearts.

Instinctively, one of your hands comes up to wipe away some of the tears running down Billy’s cheek with the uttermost softest touch, and Billy’s eyes flutter shut at the tender motion, something he hasn’t felt in such a long time, but longed for, for so many nights.

After a while of stroking his cheek, your thumb tracing the countless freckles you dreamed so much about, you pull your best friend closer, nuzzling your face in the nape of his neck.

He smells of smoke, his leather jacket, and some expensive cologne, but underneath it all, he also smells of the Billy you remember, and faintly like that one laundry detergent his mom used to use.

You breath him in, and you know he’s doing the same, when you feel hot tears on the bare skin of your shoulder where Billy’s hiding away too.

“I always thought you were angry with me.” Billy whispers, and you can’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh.

“And I always thought that you were angry with me!” You retort, and this time Billy huffs.

“How could I,” he murmurs earnestly, “You were always an angel.”

A guardian angel, Billy thinks, and he hates that he burdened you with such a heavy task from such a young age. But maybe now he can finally make it up to you.

It might take him a lifetime, but at the very least he has to try.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles because that’s a start, right?

“I’m sorry.” He repeats.

For everything, he thinks.

“It’s alright,” you reassure, thinking he’s talking about the bitter words he spat your way hours earlier.

“It was all a misunderstanding, Billy. We were both under the wrong impressions.”

“No, I mean-“

Billy doesn’t know how to say this. How to capture all the things he feels and voice them out loud.

Maybe you forgot how much of a burden he truly was back then. And maybe his admissions will only make you remember more and resent him even stronger.

Feeling that there’s something off, you move your head out of the nape of Billy’s neck, trying to face him while your hands come up to cup his cheeks gently.

“There’s nothing else to apologize for. Nothing else that you need to say sorry for, or feel sorry for, Billy.”

The sincerity in your voice is only amplified by the sincerity in your eyes as you try to really get the message across.

“But I-“ Billy tries once more, “wasn’t I an ugly stain on your childhood? Caring for me, reassuring me, worrying for me…”

What have I done for you, other than cursing you with a heavy duty no child should carry, he thinks.

Billy’s eyes look almost mournful as they regard you, tears once more brimming at the border of two oceans that always held your world.

“Oh, Billy,” you hush, “I meant it when I said that caring for you was never a burden! And you were always the brightest star in my life, not some ugly stain.

Besides, let’s not pretend like you didn’t look out for me too! You were the one who taught me how to surf, how to throw punches, how to tie the strongest knots; how to draw waves and seagulls and dolphins. How many times did you have to help me bandage my foot because I carelessly stepped into a broken glass shard at the beach? How many times did you have to tie my shoelaces because I couldn’t get it right?

How many times did I copy your homework? How many times did you have to dry my tears because I couldn’t find one of my stuffies, or a doll, or one of those many lucky shells I kept stuffed in my pockets? How many times did I tumble out of some tree because I wanted to keep up with you, trying to impress you at least a little bit? And how many times did you have to carry me home after those accidents?”

“You mean I had to carry you and Mr. Sniffles.” Billy teases lightly with a teary laugh.

“Right! Exactly! Me and Mr. Sniffles! And how many times did you have to safe and fish either one of us out of the ocean?”

“Fuck, way too many times!” Billy laughs softly at the memory, and so do you.

“God forbid you had to do anything without that rabbit.”

“It’s because you gifted him to me, Billy. I cherished him so much because he reminded me of you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t keep either of you safe at all times.”

“Not your job.” Billy mumbles.

“Not your fault either, Billy.” you retort.

“Caring for you was never a burden; your father was. What he did to you was a burden, and I wasn’t even one that was cursed to carry all of this throughout all of this time; you were.”

“You know,” you add sheepishly, bonking your head against Billy’s chest, “sometimes when you were cuddled up to me during recess with a big new bruise on your face or your body, I would imagine building a human-sized mouse trap, like they’d show in Tom and Jerry, and I thought that we could trap your father that way and get him to finally stop.”

Billy can’t help the small, disbelieving laugh that bubbles out of him, as he gives you a stunned yet slightly amused look at your admission.

“You fantasized about killing my dad?”

“Well, if you put it that way,” you drag out slowly, before stating a wholehearted and quick, “Yes!”

Billy’s eyes widen once more at your words, but it’s not like the thought had never crossed his mind either, minus the human-sized mouse trap, maybe.

“Although to be honest,” you continue, "as a kid I didn’t think that far yet. I thought he would be alright again after a while, just like Tom is in those cartoons, you know. That cat is always okay after getting crushed by tons of stone, or steal, or some cars. But each time he seemed to have learned his lesson for a little bit, and slow down his torment, and that’swhat I always wanted for you; For your father to stop his torments.” You finish in a hushed yet earnest whisper.

This time, it’s Billy who tightens the hold he has on you.

“I wished for that too.” He whispers back.

But more often than not, I wished for you to hold me again, he quietly thinks. For you to brush my tears away with your soft fingers and the ache of my bruises away with your gentle laugh and loving eyes.

Eyes that never saw him as a monster.

Eyes that held nothing but kindness in them, like they do right now as you pear up at him, before quickly nuzzling yourself closer into to Billy again, letting out a small yet satisfied sigh at the familiarity of it all, and the relief that comes with having solved such a big and heavy misunderstanding.

A misunderstanding that’s been plaguing both of your minds ever since your move to Indiana.

“We could still build that human-sized mouse trap,” you muse, “after everything your father put you through, in addition to the way he interfered in our letter exchange, and considering all that misery that followed, I think he kind of deserves it.”

“Don’t temp me,” Billy huffs, as the grip he has on you tightens again. “I don’t even know what I’ll do next time I see him. Knowing now what he must have been doing all this time back then, keeping those letters; hiding them or throwing them away I-“

Billy feels the rage spread through him like a wildfire. All of this could have been avoided, if it wasn’t for his dad, he thinks.

But instead of letting the rage consume him he takes a steading breath, the way that Eddie taught him to before stating,

“All this hurt my father caused us both could have been prevented, but instead of spending years confining in you, I spend them resenting you instead, and you did the same in return. We would still be in this loop if we didn’t-“

“If we didn’t both hide on a balcony, you mean?” You question with a gentle laugh and Billy nods his head, a soft smile spreading over his face as he watches the way your eyes crinkle slightly.

“Thank fuck for my smoking habit, I guess.” He mumbles, and you playfully poke his side with a scoff.

Just like old times your eyes twinkle with mischief and affection.

It’s like the bond between you two was never really broken, only frozen in ice and time, and cursed by a big, big misunderstanding.

But all of it has lost its power now, as you’re both entangled in one another, soaking up the moment and letting it heal all the little and big cracks in your hearts.

Letting it wash away all of your past doubts, and insecurities, that festered through the years, raised by that grievous misunderstanding that planted ugly spores in both of your hearts, which in turn bloomed into thorny briars, stingy to the touch.

Or the thought.

Or the mere memory of your best friend.

But all of this lays behind you now.

Because you have your best friend back.

Your first best friend; your childhood best friend. The one you always mourned a little, or a lot.

“My Billy,” you mumble, relief etched into every syllable, and Billy thinks his heart might stop altogether at the sound.

Might tumble out of his chest and into the night sky.

Might swell up so big and strong it could swallow the whole solar system like the sun might in a few billion years.

He’s home, he thinks, and for the first time in forever; the first time since he’s been apart from you at least, there’s a restlessness that falls from his shoulders with a silent thud that has the earth tumble under his feet.

You’re the most home he’s ever felt, ever experienced, and you’re right here in his arms.

And it’s the same for you, as you feel like hugging the whole world, and in the eyes of your seven-year-old self you’re doing just that, as you wrap your arms tighter around Billy.

You finally have your childhood best friend back.

Your Billy, and there are so many things to catch up on.

“You know,” you sniffle, because of course you’re both crying again; two sensitive souls reunited with one another. And Billy hums a deep hum to indicate he’s listening, not really trusting his voice right now because that bitch is like Bambi, wobbling helplessly on ice, threatening to crack or break at any point.

“Even when I was angry at you Billy, it never reached or overgrew the longing that I felt for you during all my years of living in Hawkins. You were never gone from my memory; Never gone from my heart. I even kept Mr. Sniffles and-“

At those words you feel Billy shift slightly, as he fumbles and tugs up one of his sleeves, before holding his arm out to you.

It takes you only two heartbeats, maybe three, to identify the small shell necklace you had made him all those many years ago, wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet instead.

It’s been re-tied a couple of times, and there’s a small part missing that must have been ripped off at some point. But upon closer inspection, there’s still that special shell engraved with your initials, a crooked heart, and the childish promise of BF!

Bestest friend!

Obviously.

“You kept it,” you whisper, as your fingers trace the rougher side of the shell carefully.

“I kept you in my heart too, you know.” Billy mumbles, voice teary, before engulfing you in a big hug again.

Please don’t let this be a dream, the both of you think, as you cuddle closer to the other.

“And to think you were so close, all along,” Billy mutters, “when we moved to Hawkins a few years ago, I could have seen you back then if it wasn’t for-“

“Shh,” you soothe, although that realization hangs heavy over your heart too.

And how did you never consider that Neil would prove himself to be the worst dad ever once again, and collect all of the letters you send Billy instead?

“You have me back now, Billy,” you whisper, “doesn’t that count the most?”

It sure does, Billy thinks.

And there’s nothing that counts more.

You’re both so wrapped up in one another, that neither of you notices the balcony door opening, as Steve tries to step out into the night for a smoke too.

But he looks like a dear caught in the headlights when he spots you and Billy, intertwined in the middle of the balcony; and although he’s more than a little confused by the sight in front of him, there’s also such a deep vulnerability in that moment you two seem to share that he doesn’t have the heart, nor the guts, to disturb you two.

He almost thinks that catching you two in a compromising position in Billy’s bed would have been less haunting, less intimate, as opposed to whatever you two have going on right now.

Without either of your notice, he ducks back into the apartment, closing the door softly, trying to figure out what’s going on.

Didn’t you two share some tensions earlier?

Didn’t he overhear Chrissy say something about holding grudges?

Broken promises, anyone?

Steve tries to shrug the odd feeling that’s setting in his stomach off, but he can’t quite shake it.

Not only does he feel like he just witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to see, but there’s also something else that has him in a tight grip.

He’s only ever seen you in such a hearty embrace with Eddie, he thinks, and Billy, well, Billy, he can’t say he’s ever seen him look as vulnerable or as soft as he did now.

Or at peace if he’s honest.

And were those tears streaming down that volatiles boy’s cheeks?

Thinking back, the two of you seemed to share a familiarity that Steve’s never witnessed before, not even between you and Eddie, if he’s honest.

What the hell is going on, Steve thinks, as he makes his way back into the kitchen, because if he can’t have another smoke, he at least wants another beer.

What the hell is going on, he thinks once more, as he watches the rest of his friends clown around on the couch, yet there’s a deep, unsettling feeling, that something about that current image is slightly off, slightly wrong.

It’s only when Steve’s past one third of his beer, that the oddity finally hits him.

It’s Eddie, he thinks.

Well, less Eddie, and more that one thing missing next to Eddie. That one person, who’s normally sitting on or near his lap, clinging to him tightly.

You’re missing, but instead of being curled up and tugged away somewhere in the dark, curly-haired boy’s side, you’re out on the balcony in someone else’s embrace. And there’s something about this situation that doesn’t sit right with Steve.

He feels like he's got a glimpse of a storm brewing somewhere far, far away on the horizon, and it’s only a matter of time until the lightning and the thunder is going to reach you all.

And Steve really doesn’t want to get caught by the squall line when that happens.

No, he thinks with a shudder, he doesn’t like that idea at all.

Maybe he’s wrong though, maybe the weather can still turn.

Maybe his prediction is way off.

Maybe there’s no disaster coming after all.

But if that’s the case, why does he feel like he can hear the warning sirens already blaring, loud, and clear, and hauntingly.

Steve downs the rest of his beer quickly, before getting another one.

Please let this be a false alarm, he thinks.

Please let the clouds he feels rumbling in the distance pass away peacefully.

And with the third beer, Steve is almost ready to believe it.

Almost.

#billy hargrove x reader #eddie munson x reader #billy hargrove x you #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove fluff #eddie munson fluff #billy hargrove fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #billy hargrove #eddie munson #billy hargrove imagine #eddie munson imagine

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mrprettywhenhecries · 12 days ago

Note

I technically already know the answer to 3 but can we pretty please get more on the whole Billy vs Steve situation? I would love to know more. 🥰 Also, 13, 19 & 11 if you're feeling generous! 😉

11. Does your character have a pet peeve? She can't stand indecisiveness, sloppy drunks, & bad/slow drivers.

13. Who is your character's closest (by relation, fondness, or distance) blood relative? Her father, David Lewis.

19. Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not? Physically, no. She does struggle with depression and adhd though.

[ oc asks ]

I'm gunna put the answer to your first question under a cut because of spoilers to my fic. In case that's something anyone's worried about lol.

Okay SO! Basically Win's story up til the events of season 4 is broken into three parts:

Part one details the events of season 2, in which Win falls for Billy after a battle of wills and eventually gets to see a more vulnerable side of him. However, the night they go looking for Max, and Billy goes after Lucas and beats the shit out of Steve, she ends up breaking up with him.

Part two will be sort of a bridge between the events of seasons 2 and 3. After apologizing to Steve for what went down that night, she and Win start hanging out and become close friends. Despite both still being a little hung up on their respective exes at that point, there's no denying the attraction between them and after an unplanned kiss at midnight on NYE, they eventually start dating, Win putting Billy behind her.

In part three, Win and Steve are still going strong, but the night Billy gets flayed, he shows up at her house, terrified and unsure where else to go. He apologizes for everything that had gone down between them and begs her forgiveness, before suddenly telling her to stay away from her and leaving just as abruptly as he showed up, leaving his mother's necklace with her. Win can't seem to get the exchange out of her head and grows worried about Billy's concerning behavior, realizing that maybe she's not completely over him. However, unable to find Steve -- trapped in the underground Russian base -- she works with the party, desperate to save Billy.

After the battle of Starcourt, she admits to Steve about her conflicted feelings for Billy, assuring him, however, that it doesn't change how she feels about him, but she's clearly torn in two. After Steve processes the news and his feelings on it, he goes to the hospital where Billy's recovering to confront him about it, reluctantly suggesting that they share Win, and Billy agrees, glad to have her in any capacity than not at all.

#joz answers #aaaaa thank you for asking!#kel 💚#oc: win lewis #ot3: harringlewgrove

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ahoysteviex · 2 years ago

Note

Homie I’m asking politely for headcanons about Billy, Steve, or Jonathan dating Hopper’s son (assuming he adopted the reader like he did Eleven) 👀

The Boys with an S/O Who's Been Adopted by Hopper

contents: mild/brief nsfw under steve's, billy being an ass, fluff, reader is a senior and 18, reader is GN, minors DNI

Ko-fi

DO NOT LIKE WITHOUT REBLOGGING

Billy

you already know that Billy is doing everything he can to piss Hop off

leave the door open three inches? that bitch stays closed. no going out after a certain hour? that's when Billy's picking you up.

he's sneaking in your window, dressing you in shit Hop would never approve of, getting you to drink and/or smoke... you name it

he gets a sort of satisfaction from pissing your dad off, as evidenced by the smirk on his face whenever you protest with "Billy I can't, my dad will kill me!"

if Hopper ever confronts him, Billy plays stupid. Hop sees right through it, but with you standing right there, he can't push Billy against the wall and threaten him like he wants to. and Billy knows it. that's why he's smiling like that.

you'd be lying if you said the whole bad boy act didn't turn you on, but you still feel bad for your old man. you owe him a Billy-free movie night or two

as much as El does not like Billy, she's sometimes grateful that he takes the spotlight off of herself and Mike

whenever Billy gets Hopper all worked up, Mike seems like an angel by comparison and your dad seems to take it easy on him for the time being

Steve

Steve is a lot more respectful of Hopper and the rules he puts in place. in fact, he's almost scared to piss him off

he's definitely not perfect, though. sometimes he'll notice the clock tick past 8, but your lips on his just feel so good... ten more minutes can't hurt, right?

if you notice and say something, he'll take you home without protest, but he will pout a bit. "8 is so early. can't you get him to extend curfew just by, like, an hour?"

since Steve has already proven himself trustworthy with the kids (protecting them, babysitting, being in on the whole Upside Down business, etc.) Hopper will be open to letting you stay out with him a little later

maybe, maybe you'll even be able to spend the night at his house? but absolutely not on a school night and definitely not two nights in a row! and if your homework isn't finished when you get home, you're grounded for the rest of the year. (totally not exaggerating)

it'll take awhile to get Steve to quit making out with you in order to actually get your homework done, but he'll settle down eventually. he wants to stay in Hoppers good graces. just promise to wrap those pretty lips around his cock once you're done with chemistry?

overall, Hopper doesn't give Steve too much grief

Jonathan

Hopper is pleased when he finds out you and Jonathan are dating! he knows Joyce's boy is a good kid. how could he not be? look who he has for a mom!

Jonathan is also very respectful of Hop. He's always the one the point out the time or get nervous if you shut your door all the way

he'll take you home 20 minutes early if he notices, so you better keep his attention or hide every clock in sight

sometimes it can even get a little annoying with how much your dad likes Jonathan. your boyfriend will pick you up for a date and end up having a 20 minute conversation with your father while you wait by the car

the worst part is that he doesn't even mean to! he's not kissing Hop's ass, he's just a good guy. and your dad can tell; it's why he likes him so much!

if you ask to go out with Jonathan, Hop will sometimes ask if Jonathan wants to come over to watch a movie instead, fully intending to hang out with him himself. you'll end up third wheeling as they become best friends, so be careful

going over his house instead is always nice, though. you get to see Joyce! she's always asking how your dad is doing or if he's busy. sometimes she'll send food home for him or even send it with Jonathan whenever he comes over

Hopper is forgetful, though, and you're always the one to bring the tupperware back to Joyce

#stranger things 4 #stranger things volume 2 #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jim hopper #hopper byers family #my writing

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ellewritesandrants · 2 years ago

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I don’t know why but I love the idea of extremely reluctant sugar baby! Billy falling in love with Steve who loves to spoil his baby at every opportunity. Maybe, they meet at one of Billy’s two part-time jobs as either a barista/baker or a bartender and Steve finds himself hooked for the get go. Billy’s also ensnared but he doesn’t know if he has the time to date since he’s in his final year of maintaing his full-ride scholarship to college, juggling two part-time jobs and taking care of his little sister. Steve understands and he doesn’t push but he is there, waiting in the wings, integrating himself in Billy’s life and slowly trying to test the waters by giving Billy gifts.

Somehow, it backfires and Billy always gives him some sort of thing in return. If Steve gives Billy a shirt, he gives Steve a free drink next time he sees him. If Steve treats him out to dinner, Billy would give Steve a free pastry the next time he came in. When Steve got Billy tickets to see his favorite band, Corroded Coffin, Billy had made Steve breakfast the next morning since he’d stayed over.

Steve would get frustrated because he just wanted to be nice to Billy and Billy didn’t like feeling indebted to him even if Steve did everything willingly. It all came to a head when Steve asked Billy out for a date, exactly a year on the dot to when he first asked Billy out and when he agrees, Steve makes sure to tell Billy that he’d take care of everything on this date.

Billy of course, counters that he’d get the next date and for once, Steve experiences a relationship that’s somewhat equal in the effort and he loves it but he also wants to spoil his boyfriend like crazy. He starts out small, always using kisses as bribes to get Billy to accept his gifts, accidentally on purpose leaving stuff at Billy and Max’s apartment only to say he doesn’t want it back and he works his way to getting Billy comfortable with it.

It doesn’t really work because Billy got onto him pretty quickly and confronted him about it. Steve outright stated that he wanted to spoil Billy and give him the world because that was how he loved. Billy doesn’t react the way Steve thought he would, flushing in embarassment and confessing that he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable or that he owes Steve something whenever he gets something from Steve.

Steve, being the opportunistic asshole he is, decides to strike a bargain with Billy. Instead of repaying him with other things in return, all Steve wants are kisses. The number would depend on how many kisses Billy thought the gift was worth but at least this way, everyone wins. Billy is reluctant but he agrees. Steve starts small, starting with clothes, accessories and gadgets eventually progressing to including random big gifts on special occasions such as paying off Billy and Max’s student loans on Billy’s birthday in addition to moving them both into his new apartment the week prior and going on a furniture shopping spree with the siblings.

Billy eventually realizes that simple kisses aren’t enough to repay the gifts Steve gives him so he uses the gifts as a way to experiment in the bedroom, sometimes letting Steve tie him up, sometimes letting Steve turn him into an absolute mess on their bed and on memorable occasions, breaking out the lingerie he’d bought using the card Steve gave him just to tease his boyfriend.

At some point, Heather, Billy’s best friend calls him a sugar baby and Billy can’t refute it. He’s pouting when he gets home but Steve makes him forget all about being mad about it because he’s Steve’s baby boy and one of the ways he shows his love is by taking care of his baby. Later on, Billy accepts being Steve’s sugar baby if only because it means Steve’s his sugar daddy. Steve absolutely loses his mind every time Billy calls him daddy in public or in private and he happily continued to spoil his baby boy.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #billy deserved better #billy hargrove au #billy hargrove deserved better #steve harrington #ellewritesandrants #billy x steve #stranger things rewrite #sugar daddy steve harrington #sugar baby billy hargrove #sugar daddy au #tw daddy kink

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ventya · 2 years ago

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drank a redbull to study but wrote this in one go instead

word count: 2k

cw: internalized homophobia, mentions of violence/abuse

Billy can’t understand why Hopper a grown adult male is so nice to him. Letting him stay at his place without asking for anything in return. Hopper could sense how uncomfortable around him only. Because Hopper has seen how gentle Billy was with El, joking with her light heatedly. He even caught them both fast asleep with Billy on the floor next to the bed with a book in his hand. Billy would never acknowledge his tenderness towards El if he would be it go along the lines of “She already been through enough”

But with Hopper Billy tenses up physically, he was careful with his words and if he wasn’t he was snarky and rude. And to Hopper, it felt like Billy was growing ruder by the day. Hopper frustrated with this had confided to Joyce about it and she gave him her advice. When Hopper decided to confront Billy about it, it had gotten worse. Billy was acting really snarky, hostile, and quick with his tongue to spew hurtful words. Hopper was done with it.

“Why are you acting like this? Did I do something? Kid, you gotta tell me if I did something. Use your words for something that can get us somewhere.”

Billy looks livid at this, hands balled into fists.

“Why the hell are you being so nice to me?”

Hopper blinks, “What?”

Billy snorts “You think ‘m stupid?? Letting me live here, letting me eat your food, sleep in a bed, being nice to me. I don’t like waiting around for something to happen- rather have you be upfront about it and what you want from me. What? Is this like a little game you play? Some sick sadistic game to have me guessing in the dark just waiting for the perfect moment to jump on me-”

“Whoa there!” Hopper raises both of his arms in the air as a defense staring at Billy, who is visibly shaking now, with wide eyes. “You think...you think I want something from you.”

“What else??”

“Kid...”

“Don’t fucking ‘kid’ me.” Hopper feels a bit shaken up noticing Billy’s eyes had teared up with tears.

“I do want something from you.” Billy wants to laugh right in Hopper’s face ‘I knew it’. “I want you to get better and feel comfortable here.” Billy at first stares at the older man with wide eyes taken back. His heart thuds faster and then he shakes his head.

“No, you don’t.” He spits out glaring again.

“Yes, I do.” Billy shakes his head.

“No- not if you really knew me.”

Hopper stills for a moment almost laughing, “you think I don’t know you?”

“Yeah, or else you wouldn't be nice to me and let me stay here.” It was almost like a challenge.

“I know you beat up Steve, Billy, the kids talked to me about it and everything else-” Hopper sighs stepping forward, but Billy wouldn’t budge glaring and then letting out a laugh.

“The kids wouldn’t know.” Did Billy kill someone? Hopper thinks for a second but then shakes his head.

“Why don’t you try me then? You’re so sure I would kick you out on the street so why don’t you tell me cos I can tell you now that I wouldn’t.” Hopper decides to push and Billy looks angry again.

“Yeah, you fucking would maybe you beat me up too! You’re so high and mighty now but you wouldn’t be saying this shit if you knew!”

“So fucking tell me, kid!” Hopper didn’t mean to be loud but Billy has gotten loud and in his face. “You said I’m keeping you waiting but right now it’s you.”

“Fuck you.”

“I have taken you in Billy, I’m not kicking out or sending you back to your dad I need you to stop thinking that. You’re fucking piece of work but not worthless. And I fucking promise you that whatever comes out of your smart mouth isn’t going to change that.”

Billy shakes his head again this time his tears are so much clearer, spilling over his cheeks. “Stop! Just stop!” He heaves. “Stop giving me fucking hope you fucking asshole!”

“No, I won’t,” Hopper says firmly stepping closer again. “Cos I fucking mean it and I want you to get through your thick skull because nothing you say will change my mind-”

“Stop saying that! Because it will! It will change your mind you don’t know what I am, you don’t know-”

“Tell me-” Hopper then lowers his voice “Tell me, kid-we can work it out, whatever it is. We can work it out, yeah?” Seriously...what if he did kill someone?? Billy looks so shaken up. “I have dealt with the upside down I can deal with whatever it is you did.”

“This is not the upside-down thing.” Billy glares.

“I know it isn’t Billy I just-”

“Or maybe it fucking is, I’m just a fucking monster you want to kill.”

“Fucking hell Billy! Just tell me and stop telling me how I will react to it!”

Billy throws his arms in the air with a frustrated shout before hissing “I’m fucking gay.” Hopper’s shoulders deflate and his mind goes blank. Gay? Okay, that is not what he expected at all.

“What?” And Hopper only then takes in Billy and how his whole body had gone rigid and eyes wide with pure fear. Wait-what? Hopper tries to reach out for the kid but immediately regrets it when Billy squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away. “Billy- I’m-” Hopper tries to find his words instead now. “I’m not going to hit. I’m not-” fuck “I don’t care okay? I don’t care that you like other boys.” He says that so quickly that he isn’t sure that Billy hears it. “Billy, look at me,” Hopper tries to use a gentle voice (the one that he hears Joyce use often) because Billy still has his eyes squeezed shut and he’s shaking. “Hey, c’mon Billy look at me kid, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Billy opens his eyes tears falling from them and he looks hazy almost like he wasn’t here in this room. Hopper frowns taking a step forward, but he took it very slowly to not scare him anymore. And even slower he pulls his arm up to gently put them on Billy’s shoulders, he wants to ground him. Get him back. Billy flinches but doesn’t move away. He looks up at Hopper again with tear-filled eyes, but something in the way he is looking at him felt off.

“It’s okay, Billy, I’m not going to hurt you.” He says firmly and slowly, Billy has this distant look in his eyes that makes Hopper shiver. "Can you slowly breathe in and out for me Billy? Yeah, can you do that?” Billy continues to only stare at him. “Breathe in and out,” Hopper does it slowly a few times till Billy mimics him. He starts to blink again rapidly seeming to come back. “Here we go,” the older man mumbles, “how about we go sit down, yeah?”

Billy lets himself be led to the living room by Hopper and he sits down on the couch. Hopper pulls out a blanket and drops it over Billy’s shoulder before sitting down next to him. They sit there for a while in silence till Billy is calm. “I don’t know why I said that,” Billy mutters quietly, eyes filled with ushed tears staring at the floor - not at Hopper.

“I was pushing you, I shouldn’t have pushed you-” Hopper rubs his beard and shakes his head in disappointment as guilt rises in him. Billy grabs tightly into the blanket. He glances hesitantly at the man next to him before looking down again. Silence fills the room, again.

“So...are you going to kick me out?” Billy dares to ask.

“No. I meant what I said.”

“Tch,” Billy grits his teeth, “Everyone else would.”

“Don’t care what everyone else would do.”

“Yeah?” Billy snaps glaring at Hopper.

Hopper just sighs, leaning back. That kid really has a thick skull, “Yeah.” He simply replies and Billy glares harder at Hopper before glaring at the objects in the living room. Hands fisting the blanket tightly around him, eyes burning with hot tears.

“Why don’t you fucking care? Everyone else fucking cares- something is wrong with you!” Billy spits out, but still, his eyes could not meet him and instead are roaming the room, searching for something to ground him. Hopper’s shoulders sink the way his heart did. He watches how Billy tragically wraps his arms around his head pulling the blanket over and then putting his arms on his knees hands in his hair. He is shaking again. “Why don’t you fucking care?!” Hopper didn’t think he has ever heard Billy sound this broken before. Even when he was beaten half to death with Max crying over him, he didn’t sound like this. Even though he was talking about the moments that led to getting one of his worst beatings at the hospital he didn’t sound like this. He hears Billy wretch out a sob and Hopper realizes that Billy’s world has collapsed.

“Is that why your dad beat you?” Hopper hears Billy sob again at the question that till now he had never gotten an answer to. Hopper has no clue what to do, his heart heavy and he feels his own throat tightened. He takes in a shaky breath leaning forward.

“Why don’t you fucking care??” Billy cries turning to him and he looks desperate for an answer, but not to this question. He wants to know why everyone else cares- why his father cared, Hopper thinks miserably.

“Billy...”

Anger flashes across Billy’s face, “Fucking care about it! Fucking kick me out! Fucking beat me up! I’m a fucking homo and you- and you don’t fucking--” he stumbles through his words with new found anger, even if he didn’t look so angry like before (Hard to look angry while being wrapped around a big blanket too). He looks so tired. And Hopper’s heart grows heavier.

“I don’t know how to make this clearer, but I don’t mind it I-I had friends at school who were into guys too-”

“So what you fucking gay too?? And you want to fuck me or what?!”

“What the- No!” He yells accidentally, eyes wide nose crinkling up in disgust (not at being accused of being gay but why did Billy have to say that last part?? Gross!) “No fuck kid I just knew them and they were my friends- they were really in love with each other and-I’m just telling you so you can hear me when I say: I don’t mind it okay? I’m not going to hurt, I’m not going to beat you up or kick you out.” Billy looks disheveled, unconvinced, and exhausted.

“Look, kid,” Hopper tries again, “My mind didn’t change. I don’t care about whatever you do under the sheets-well as long as you are safe.” Hopper quickly adds giving Billy a look. “I know that there are people out there that say it’s sinning or whatever bullcrap of an excuse your father choose to hurt you-But you know, nothing about loving someone should be seen as bad. I may not get it, kid, but I know that for sure. You don’t choose who love, I fucking know that.”

Billy seems to have deflated at Hopper’s words, blanket almost eating him. The tears are sliding down his cheeks quietly. “Fuck,” he grumbles furiously wiping the tears away unsuccessfully. “I can’t stop fucking crying.” He then looks up at Hopper again, brows furrowed deeply. “Still think there is something wrong with you,” he mumbles, “I know there is something wrong with me.” Hopper decides to let out a chuckle.

“Yeah?” Hopper asks with a raised brow.

“Yeah,” Billy replies as cold as he could with puffy eyes, red cheeks, and the blanket touching his lower lip.

“Cos I think there is something very wrong with everyone else but us.” And this is what gets a smile on Billy's lips.

“Tch,” Billy looks away for a moment. “You’re a smart ass you know?” This makes Hopper laugh because he used the exact words at Billy multiple times before.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hopper rubs Billy’s head, watching a grin crack on Billy’s lips looking up at Hopper. It wasn’t a mean grin, it was one of those he reserved for Max and El when they had done something sweet or funny or said something dorky. Hopper didn’t think Billy would give him the same one. He realizes it makes him look his age.

#billy hargrove #jim hopper #thinking of cross posting this to ao3 #….should i tag this harringrove here?#implied. harringrove is always in my fics no matter what #harringrove

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 2 years ago

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My personal fav is Billy calling Eddie ‘critter’ in an endearing way, like first it’s a friend thing and almost a jab at how Eddie acts like a gremlin, but then it becomes more of a loving pet name overtime

They’re probably all at a party or something when Eddie gets too excited while he’s talking and like slings his drink everywhere, and when he starts looking really dejected, Billy just takes his cup and says a soft, “it’s alright, critter, I’ll get you another one.” Cue Eddie being the bubbly drunk sap again because his maybe-boyfriend is being super sweet

All while Steve had to get up and excuse himself onto the back porch because hearing that sort of made him want to throw up (jealousy and also maybe because he’s had too much to drink)

We all know Billy calls Steve ‘Pretty Boy’ but what does Billy call Eddie? What does Billy call Eddie in front of Steve after Steve has finally told Billy to back off that makes Steve realize how much he fucked up, when he sees the way they look at each other?

#mungrove #harringrove #and potentially some harringroveson #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #who knows maybe Steve confronts billy about it and they work something out #ficlet

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tabdabble · 2 years ago

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Clownclusions pt.2

-I have drawn about Steve based on the entire Bigtop Burger Series

I’ve thought so much about this it’s insane please enjoy my thoughts on what clowns are and etc.

Also check my BTB Clown-centric master-post if you want more observations

Steve-specific conclusions

Steve’s bday is August 10 [S1 post-credits]

IF we assume the day of Greasepaint releasing is the same day in-universe. And that Billie, Tim and Steve weren’t celebrating something else worthy of a candled cake and a crown saying “Happy”

Steve has nightmares [S2 intro]

Implying some sort of trauma at some point in his life.

Steve might have lived in the early 1900s?????????? [Kid]

In Kid, kid-Steve is wearing a little sailor hat, with a peter-pan-collar, ascot(?), shorts and little boots with straps, I think.

IF the kid-Steve was actually a living flashback, then Steve might have grown up in the early 1900s? (fashion history is nebulous so I’m not sure what exact year or country)

Entirely possible this was a bit and not at all relevant.

Steve maybe was in England between 1982-2008 [Stove]

Acc. to the wikipedia site for Two Pence, the coin he flipped onto the customer’s hat was only in production between these years.

Entirely possible he conjured it or just found it somewhere.

Lore facts/conclusions

Bigtop burger has had prior dealings with, or at least been warned by Steve about, Zomburger

We know this because in Zomburger, the newest hire Billie has no idea who they are or that they want to destroy Bigtop, but Penny and Tim seem unfazed by their attacks

Steve doesn’t like Cesare, but for what reason?

In Zomburger, without a word, Steve angrily rams the Bigtop truck into Cesare’s truck.

Based on Cesare’s jabs at Steve, it seems they’ve met before

They don’t mention specific encounters or any other places or events. It’s just the food that Cesare insults.

It seems personal, but in a professional way?

I don’t think Steve knows who/what Cesare is

Steve seems angry/aggressive towards Cesare in Zomburger, but doesn’t actually say anything to him, seeming to wait until bodily attacked to retaliate (besides the truck ramming). Then he just halves their vehicle, and they seem fine despite the explosion?

Steve seems afraid/wary of Cesare in S2, but I don’t think it’s because he knows Cesare is trying to send him to hell. He obsessively seeks Cesare out but then hides behind Penny at their confrontation. It takes everyone’s convincing to get him to accept any of the gifts, especially the backpack.

He seems unsure, but more morbidly curious than anything.

Steve seems confused about why Cesare is giving him gifts, but seems cautiously open to a truce (at least with the backpack, which he donned willingly, and the lunchbox, which he admitted he might need)

Steve had no suspicion that the gifts were a trap. He’s angry about the gifts being heavy, and attempts to take one off, and give one away, but with no life-threatening urgency. He just stands there, seemingly bewildered but mistrustful, as Cesare approaches with the big stetson. He says he had enough gifts, but otherwise makes no attempt to run away, or refuse further.

Until the last, Steve had no idea why Cesare would trap him. Steve seems extremely confused at the gifts turning to kettle bells. He struggles against the weight as Cesare monologues, but makes no comment on his words. Steve says “I can’t- I can’t move!” in such a way as to suggest he was alarmed, but still had no idea why this was happening

I think that Steve thought that he and Cesare’s rivalry was strictly work-related. He had no idea who or what Cesare was, or what he wanted.

He accepted the initial peace-offering, and did not seem suspicious of the gifts at all except to question why they were so heavy.

He had no idea, even at the moment before he was sent to hell, why he would be trapped like this.

Like all of us, Steve thought that the gifts were probably just a ‘sinister’ but ultimately benign plot by Cesare to torment him with heavy objects.

Head-canon town/What I got from all these observations.

I think that Steve didn’t purposefully escape hell, or wherever clowns came from/were sent to.

Either someone else brought him to the surface as a child, or he is descended from the last undercover clowns on earth.

This would probably explain his nightmares, as well, since there don’t seem to be many clowns left running around.

I think Steve knows what he is technically, but not exactly what that means.

Steve seems to think it’s funny that people don’t believe he’s a clown, which would mean he knows that he is one.

He has many different powers and tricks, but it seems like he might not know how to control them, or purposefully use all of them (e.g. his assertion that “everything’s fine”, and his erratic shapeshifting after smoking a “JUUL” in Kid?).

This would also mean he wasn’t aware he needed to be very afraid of and suspicious of Cesare, or whatever Cesare is.

Steve also didn’t even seem to be particularly enamored with the gifts, which seemed to be abnormally charming, primarily to Tim, then Penny and Billie, and even Conrad. Steve just had no idea there was a reason to avoid them.

Steve did fall for the illusion of the magic, however. He either can’t detect magic, or has no idea what to look for to identify it.

It kinda seemed like Steve, an abnormally erratic/powerful clown who had no idea what he really is, was just trying to survive on the surface like anyone else.

He wears the same clothes all the time, cheap and comfy.

He sleeps in his truck, which is also his only source of income. [S2 intro]

Despite the hardships, he seems to love his job and take pride in it, if his tearful reaction to Cesare’s comments is any indication. [Zomburger]

He was slightly suspicious of, but an active participant in, a “little workplace rivalry”

He seems to be very fond of people in general, as well as excited to learn more through the Expo! [Stove, Expo]

He has friends - Tim and Billie and Penny - whom he seems to care about a lot, and vice-versa.

He seems happy

And he got sent to hell for it ;v;

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it :D

If you did like it, check out my BTB Clown Lore post!

As well as the art/headcanons I already made for Wire:

Portal Dude, Big J

#bigtop burger #btb steve

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moljh · 2 years ago

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Unbelievable / Steve Harrington x Reader

Part 6

*trigger warning - mentions of abuse*

fluff, slowburn, flashbacks, etc.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Edited: currently unedited

Thursday, November 1 1984

The morning following your night with Steve Harrington, you’d been getting ready for school when Billy burst through the door. He has this look of betrayal written across his face attempted to be disguised by anger. You didn’t bother to greet him or attempt to pretend you didn't know why he was there, just met his gaze and stared right back at him.

"Do you have anything to say to me?" he questioned you "Can't say I do" "Really? Well what do you call last night then?" "I call it being an independent woman who can do whatever the hell I want with whoever the hell I want to" "Don't push me" he said grabbing a hold of your arm, forcing you to look away from whatever you had been doing and face him properly "Let me go" you firmly replied, ignoring his words, pulling you arm away from him "don't pretend you actually care Billy, I know this is more about what people might day than you actually giving a shit about me"

He didn't say anything back to you, let the words sit in the air and fester. With a huff he trudged back out of your room and you let out a sigh of relief. You hadn't wanted the confrontation and were grateful he hadn't been bothered to actually have a real fight.

You knew that your little event with Billy’s chosen rival would illicit anger from your twin, though a part of you still wished he could be a normal protective brother. You weren’t asking for him to unleash a wave of emotion, but maybe just a smile or at least a lack of threats. It likely would end up being worst for Steve, than yourself, as he was already receiving the brunt of Billy’s aggression at school.

During most of your older years, Billy hadn’t shown much interest in what you did, though you could recall when he had actually shown some sympathy. It had been back in California, back when you had a little more hope and optimism towards life. He hadn’t been explicitly supportive of you, more a quiet acknowledgement, but it had still meant something to you.

1982

You had genuinely had feelings for one person in the past. His name had been Daniel and he had kind eyes. You remember how he had walked you home after school each day, even though he lived in the opposite direction from you. How he made sure you had eaten during the day; since you often forgot, and always had a spare snack for you. He'd been kind. He had been the first boy or man up to that point in your life that had been a truly kind and caring person.

The adjustment to your family dynamic had been difficult for everyone once Max and her mum joined your father, Billy and yourself. You hadn't done much to address it, tried to just accept it and make the most of the situation. But what Billy had been like before, just became worst with their presence. So, you had involved yourself in other things to stay distant and distracted.

Extra-curriculars helped, you joined soccer and track, and the late night library also helped. You may have only been young but your dad didn't care enough to worry where you were so late. Daniel cared though. You didn't even know this boy and he had approached you late one night in the school library.

"Hi, can I join you?" he asked, sliding into the seat across from you as you nodded your head. There had been a few minutes without conversation and then he spoke once more, "I'm Daniel, and you are?" "Y/N" you replied "Well y/n you must have a lot of homework, cause I see you in here every day after school" "You must have a lot yourself Daniel if your here as well"

He chuckled at your remark and smiled. His laugh was genuine and when he laughed he threw his head back slightly.

"Suppose you caught me there, but what if I told you I was here because of a pretty girl I've been trying to talk to?" "I'd think she'd say you need to work on your pick-up lines" "It worked didn't it?"

You'd spoken all night, you couldn't remember much, he was a Junior and you a Sophomore and you hung out each day from then on. He didn't have a car but would come pick you up each morning and walk to school with you, then walk you back at the end of the day. It took him three weeks to work up the courage to properly as you out and then another week to be his girlfriend. You'd said yes of course. For the first time in a long time things were good.

You'd dated for a year and within that year a lot happened. You felt safe with Daniel, felt like you could trust him, be yourself around him. But you still had the issue of your dad and Billy. You tried to not talk about your relationship when you were around them, of course Billy knew of it since you went to school together but luckily he never brought it up either.

One night however it had been an issue. You father had been his usual consistent self and you'd gotten in between him and Billy once again. You'd been shoved around and knocked about a bit, which had been really unfortunate timing since Daniel was picking you up that night to take you out. He'd gotten a car a few days prior and had been set on driving out to the Lake to impress you. You'd hastily applied concealer underneath your eye and were satisfied with the cover, before rushing outside.

Before long you'd arrived at Lovers Lake and you began kissing. Whilst in the car, you felt Daniel's hands roaming down your side and drifting towards your hips. In that moment his thumb pressed firmly against your pelvic bone and you flinched in pain, recoiling away from him.

"What's wrong?" he quickly asked, furrowing his brow in concern "Nothing, nothing, I'm fine" "No you're not, what's wrong?"

You shuffled slightly, trying to re-adjust your shirt to cover your side properly but the light from the moon hit is just right and you noted his eyes go wide. His gaze locked onto you lower abdomen and you quickly covered it with you hand and turned away.

"Y/n... What's that?" he softly said "It's nothing, please just ignore it" you'd pleaded with him, embarrassed that he'd even seen it

He reached forward to where you were pressed against the car door and slowly lifted you shirt up. You closed your eyes, as you knew he'd be looking at the multi-coloured markings adorning your stomach. They weren't all from that night, those were still red and fresh, others were shades of deep blue and purple and other a softer yellow, indicating their age. Silence enveloped the car for what had felt like eons.

Then you heard the ignition staring and without any words, he pulled out of the parking space and started driving. You were unsure where he was going until you recognised he was taking you home. He had pulled up at the curb out the front of your house and let out a gentle sigh.

"Y/n you know I really like you... But I don't know if I can be with someone who does this to themselves, it's too much for me... Please don't hate me" his words hit you like a tonne of bricks

Someone who had done with to themselves. He had thought what he had seen was self inflicted, hadn't even bothered to ask you what had happened before jumping to his own conclusion. How dare he. How dare he also act like it was so shameful if it was self inflicted. He was casting you aside because it was all to scary and hard for him. You sat their in disbelief for a few moments and then got out. You didn't say anything as you shut the car and walked up the front path and you heard him drive away.

All of it had hurt, but that had been the first time in over a year, that the boy you had loved hadn't watched you safely make it inside and that hit you the hardest.

From then on you basically had come to the view that all boys did was use and abuse. You'd kept your distance, done what you wanted to do and then left before they could get any closer. Moving had also helped you in that regard, a whole new group of untapped potential and that had been your intention leading into that night of Halloween. You didn't exactly have a plan, but just went into it, welcoming whatever would happen.

You'd been in gym class that day, running laps around the track alongside other girls in your class, whereas the guys were inside the gym playing basketball. You fell into a mindless rhythm as you ran, letting your legs do the work and your mind wander. As you rounded the bend you spotted two figured between the buildings arguing about something and you recognised them as Harrington and Wheeler, clearly having a heated discussion. Continuing on, that's when you saw your possibly new best friend hiding at the edge of the bleachers. Jogging away from the track unnoticed, you gave him a smile as you approached.

"How are you y/n?" "Just fine Eddie darling, what have you got for me today?" You had only been at the school for a week and already tracked down the dealer on campus "Well I don't have much right now, but just cause I like you, I'll give you 3 rolled for a tenner?" he smiled, reaching into his metal lunch box "Suppose it's got to be a yes then" you handed him the money and shoved the joints into your bra "I truly love and appreciate you Eddie" you smirked and he let out a little laugh at your comment

You headed back toward the changing rooms as you noticed all the others heading that way as well. As you went to walk back inside, someone grabbed you by the shoulder and pulled you to the side.

"Jesus Christ Harrington, what is your problem?" you exclaimed "Sorry, sorry, I didn't know how else to get your attention" "I dunno, maybe just by talking to me?" You retorted "That's generally how normal human beings communicate"

He awkwardly stood in front of you for a moment, eyes focussed on his feet as he shuffled from side to side.

"Well..." you said "What do you want?" "Um... Well... You know... Just about last night..." he seemed to not be able to get all the words out to fully make a sentence "Yes last night Harrington, we had sex" you continued for him "what about it?" "Well um... So this is awkward" "Yes this is. For you. What are you trying to say? Seriously, I don't have all day" "You haven't told anyone have you? Because I just broke up with my girlfriend and I don't know fully what's happening there and um... well... I just don't know what you think happened...?"

You could tell he was so genuinely concerned about what happened, it was kind of sweet. Grabbing a hold of his shoulders, you looked in right in the eye.

"Relax Steve" you spoke slowly "I'm not about to profess my undying love for you or anything. Believe it or not girls can also use guys for sex, so calm down and take a breath"

Letting go of him, you saw him shoulders relax and he took a breath in.

"I'm sorry about all that, and I'm sorry about last night" he said to you "I was upset and it shouldn't have happened, so could you please do me a favour and not tell anyone?" "Don't worry Harrington, despite your beliefs, it wasn't all that special of a night for me either. You might be good in the equipment department, but you might want to work on your stamina a bit more" you stated, patting him on the back and walking away

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things series #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #Billy Hargrove #Max Mayfield #y/n #reader

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okaybutlikeimagine · 3 years ago

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A Father’s Day Triptych

TW: past/referenced child abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, child neglect

(you can find it on AO3 here ♥)

Father’s day in the Hargrove household was always pulled taut with expectations of kindness and submission hanging over Billy’s head.

They didn’t always used to be that way. When he was a kid, Father’s days felt like a reprieve rather than a burden. Billy and his mom would prepare special things- a nice card that would make him laugh, those new fishing poles he’d been eyeing in the big sporting store a town over, a pretty cake with fresh fruit on top from the grocer down the way. His mother went all out. She’d get Billy all excited for it too. The strenuous relationships were softened for a day where they did everything they could to make him happy.

They really did… everything they could just to make him happy. Sometimes Billy still wonders why it had to take so much.

Around Father’s day, his mother would use all her spending money to make his father smile. It usually worked. And for that day, it was so good. It could hardly get better. Grilling and watching stupid baseball games Billy never cared about but would pretend to be interested in, just for him. Fake smiles almost became real. Hot dogs and hamburgers and watermelon always tasted better on those days when his father would put his arm around Billy amicably- when he would laugh at the card and compliment how Billy’s penmanship was getting better every year.

The year that she left was the worst.

The year that she left Billy stopped getting an allowance. He had no money to soften the edges of his father with fresh cakes and fancy presents. He panicked. He stole a stupid fishing keychain from a store and made a card from his school notebook paper. He presented them with shaking hands to his father who seemed glued to the couch, eyes bloodshot, surrounded by beer cans, baseball game so loud Billy’s ears felt sore.

He got a grunt and a lazy eye roll in response. A slurred groan of “your writing is sloppy”. A quieter admission of regret.

He got resentment. Billy was 9 and he knew it was resentment towards his very existence. He slid away to his room. There was no dinner to eat that night as his father passed out on the couch with the TV still on far too loud.

When Susan and Max came into the picture, Billy miraculously found a reason to be happy for it. Suddenly there was pressure taken off of him. He let Max know it too, as Susan encouraged them to go out and “at least get him a card”. They’d lazily look through all the forcibly funny and generic pieces of paper. Max was nervous that first year.

“It’s whatever.” Billy had grunted, looking through ugly green cards with stupid phrases on them. “She’s gonna bang him tonight, he won’t care about a dumb card.”

“Ew.” Max had whined, covering her ears and pouting. Billy couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It was never fun. Billy felt like he was on a leash all day long, obligated to do everything he could for his father just to keep him civil. Susan made a steak, the kids handed over the card, his father remarked how his penmanship was the mark of someone lazy and sloppy (no matter how hard Billy would try to make it as neat as he possibly could), and the day would end. And he could stop thinking about how this man still had a hand in his life.

…

Father’s day in the Hopper household was always bumbling and awkward.

By the time that first one came around, Billy was just beginning to feel less like a burden to the house and more like an addition. He’d found comfort in the space they all shared. They had a sort of routine set between all of them. There was still no second bed for Billy, so he still felt like he was imposing when Hop slept on the couch, but it was a sort of pull out couch by that point and Hop insisted and Billy decided not to pay it too much mind.

And that first Father’s day was just… awkward. Billy had completely forgotten the date- summer had just started for him and days were rolling by in hot and languid and lazy moments of feeling out every new situation. He had just started getting really serious with Steve. Not just touching for the sake of getting off but really starting to need and want each other in ways that scared him. In ways that made him want to keep things how they were- ways that made him scared to change a thing. It was a new and alien feeling for him.

El had inadvertently learned about Father’s day from Mike when he briefly groaned about dinner plans his family had. Billy found that out from El on their drive to the store to pick something up for Hop. She had to convince Billy it was a thing they should do, because Hopper was their father. He did fatherly things for them. He took them in and gave them a roof and food and asked how their days were and wished them goodnight and good morning, however groggily. He made stupid jokes that made them moan and he danced horribly to the old records he kept on their dusty shelf and he was horrible with laundry and he whistled as he did dishes.

He introduced Billy proudly in the grocery store once. It was the weekend after Billy had a really good basketball game that Hop had decided to attend. Hop bragged about it to some friend of his. Billy flushed red and elbowed him and tried his best to escape.

He thought about it every single day.

Billy and El bought a large cheesy balloon, ingredients to make a nice lasagna dinner, and a green and white cake from the bakery. The balloon was more for El. The lasagna was a little burnt. Hop was too nice to say he’d have preferred pie to cake, but he ate it anyway as they sat around the TV and watched whatever program was on. Billy only remembered as he fell slowly into sleep that night. He jolted awake quickly, remembering a sort of far off conversation months ago where Hop had proclaimed confidently that pie was the superior dessert of anything else- yes, even Eggo's with whipped cream and sprinkles. How he admitted cake was never his favorite.

Billy felt shame overcome him as he remembered, pushing himself out of bed and turning to the sofa with the immediate want to apologize for it. He wasn’t sure what came over him.

But instead of sending pleading apologies into the darkness, he just looked towards the sofa with a heavily beating heart and let his eyes adjust. And he thought about all that man had done for the two of them. Thought about how he took in these two stray kids. Thought about how he knew Hop was getting flack for it, because Billy heard the whispers and the snickers and the sneers about Hop running a dog pound. Thought about how he gave up his probably comfier trailer for the rundown cabin, gave up the main bedroom for the dusty spare bed, gave up the dusty spare bed for the couch, gave up parts of his sanity probably…

Billy didn’t wanna apologize anymore. He just whispered a thanks, even though it was hard to push up through his throat and would fall onto sleeping ears.

The Father’s days after that first one got better. They got Joyce, and along with her 2 boys that had their own rocky past with fathers and celebrations of them. Just four kids who feared and resented father figures. It ended up being better than Billy could imagine. It was never quite as awkward as that first Father’s day, but never quite comfortable either. That being said, it was never a bad day. The bar was low, but that didn’t matter. Billy found appreciation for the general ease all the same.

…

Father’s day in the Hargrove-Harrington-”whatever we’re together now and that’s what’s most important” household is filled with guilt and feelings of imposter syndrome.

They don’t celebrate it the first two or so years after they’ve adopted their first child. He’s just a toddler, he doesn’t quite understand yet what it is. And they… they’re still struggling with what it means to be fathers. They’re confident in their rights but they’re not immune to the judgmental voices, always eyeing them oddly when they’re out together with their boy or asking after the mother when they’re out separately. Always looking a little judgmental or harsh when they have to explain why the kid doesn’t look like them- whoever is with him at the time. Or getting looks of pity when the people clearly begin to assume it’s because they couldn’t get pregnant with whatever wife must be at home.

It’s hard to hear. It makes them question everything. If their boy doesn’t know what he’s missing, then there’s no need to explain.

Billy calls Hopper and feels his heart lurch when Hop and Joyce wish him and Steve a happy father’s day. They do it with joy and certainty. As if it belongs to them, too. Billy hangs up the phone and lays in bed for at least half an hour. Steve can’t get through to him.

It’s an odd feeling. A rough feeling. When they adopt their second child, a girl of 9 years old, they know they’re going to have to confront it. Their son begins school that year too. They find out about the day from their friends and television ads and store windows. The children are timid with them- they were adopted as supposed “problem children” from rough homes and tumultuous pasts. Billy and Steve don’t expect anything of them but they’re still not sure how to explain that. They figure ignoring is easier than explaining. Maybe it’ll make it go away.

It doesn’t work well.

And Billy… Billy’s just struggling being a dad. He couldn’t explain the job if he tried. He helps make lunches, he gives timeouts, he buys and subsequently sneaks himself some silly little snack foods when he’s hungry and busy and doesn’t have time to do more than rip open a pouch. He deals with tantrums over vegetables and he wipes mouths with napkins and he sings lullabies in the wrong key and he reads bedtime stories until he himself dozes off in the tiny bed with a small head on his chest and drool pooling onto his shirt.

He’s trying. He gets frustrated at stores. He gets a little hot headed, a little loud. His heart breaks when they cry. He’s straddling the line between being a pushover and a hard-ass. He lays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, dreading ever becoming like Neil. He asks Steve, in the stillness of the night when the darkness acts as the weight of every horrible outcome imaginable, if he’ll follow Neil’s wretched footsteps.

“You’ll never be like him, Billy.”

“How do you know? What if it’s inside me already.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe it is… maybe I won’t be able to help it.”

He stresses and he struggles and he wants to rip his hair out.

But that first father’s day comes around with their new daughter and newly knowledgeable son. And the two children blunder around the kitchen while their two dads are asleep. And then they wake the two parents up, both teary eyed and breathing heavy, faces full of apology and sorrow, asking for help to clean up the mess.

And Billy and Steve find the kitchen a single step back from full on disaster. There’s juice all over the counter and dripping onto the floor, the cereal box is all soggy from it, the toaster is smoking, a plate is broken on the ground, the fridge is still open. Their daughter pulls on Billy’s pajama pants and holds out her finger that’s bleeding. He gets out of her that she somehow managed to cut it on the butter knife she was using to cut up some fruit.

Steve gets busy cleaning things up. He asks their son to help do smaller things like close the fridge and grab some towels.

Billy takes his daughter’s small soft hand into his large, rough one and plants a kiss on it. It sends something like pure love surging through his heart. He guides her to the bathroom to put a bandaid on it and asks if she’s okay.

“Mmhm.” She nods and his heart softens. She sniffles. “M’sorry. We wanted… wanted to make breakfast and w-wanted to do something nice.”

She sounds like the weight of the world is on her small shoulders. Billy sees himself at 9 years old, doing his damnedest to get anything close to a damn smile out of his father while he sat unresponsive and unamused on the couch.

His heart yearns. It breaks and it pulls and it screams and it shouts. He pulls her in close and hugs her tight and tries to find the right words. Tries to tell her it’s made his entire year. It’s made him feel validated and happy and worth it, like all of that stress is worth it just to know that these two children got up early as hell on a Sunday morning just to surprise their fathers. Just to surprise the two of them. Just to say they thought of them, wanted to give them something, wanted to make them feel special.

“It was nice.” Is all he can croak out through his froggy throat.

“It’s a mess.” She sobs, but he just grips her arms tighter.

“It was wonderful.” He says and he’s crying too. He can’t get the tears to stop. He’s kneeling on the bathroom ground, the two of them crying to each other.

And Billy swears he’ll never get good at the father thing. He has talks with Hop about it, when he’s feeling vulnerable and Hopper’s able to get it out of him. By this point they’ve adopted another child- an older boy, a teenager. He’s rough and he’s jaded. He listens to loud, angry music. He kind of picks on the other two kids, even though he’d jump in front of a bus for either one of them. Hop asks how he likes it.

“He’s a lot like you were, y’know.” Hop tells Billy, who still doesn’t really see it.

Steve doesn’t have as much of a problem with the boy as Billy does. Billy and him just never seem to see eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re the same people.” Hop insists. Steve agrees. Joyce affirms with pity. “You clash.”

They clash hard. They get into yelling matches. Billy never puts a hand on him, but the arguments aren’t exactly great. Billy cries to Steve at night, fear shaking him down to his core, still able to see and hear himself yelling at that boy who fights tooth and nail back with him.

“You’re not a bad person, Billy.”

“Why do I do that shit?” He asks, knowing full well no one but him could ever really know.

It’s not like it’s anything too vitriolic. It’s not like it’s anything really poisonous.

It’s over the fact that he stays out too late at night, and Billy gets worried. It’s the fact that Billy found cigarettes in his room and he knows the bad effects of cigarettes. It’s the fact that he pushed his little brother one day and made him scrape his knee and he needed to learn some boundaries. It’s the fact that he lied about his grades when Billy felt they gave him no reason to do such a thing.

It’s fatherly things. That’s what Hop assures him as Billy cries on the phone with him.

“It’s things I would have done with you.”

Billy never ever knows what to make of that. What to make of what he’d be like now if Hop was his father from the start. If Hop was there from the beginning. If Neil hadn’t made him a monster in his own image.

Billy does his best to get through to him. Get through to his son now because he’s his son now.

Billy feels like the worst, most undeserving father.

As the kids have gotten older, they learned better ways to celebrate father’s day. They learn breakfast in bed isn’t really what the two of them would prefer- a nice lunch and getting to spend some time with them sounds better. A homemade card always goes on the mantle or the fridge with the rest of the collection. A few hugs because those are like treasured gifts in this house with kids who have a history of boundary and trust issues with parental figures.

The older son catches Billy alone in the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Billy replies awkwardly back. The silence is jarring.

“I uh… uhm.” He’s struggling. Billy wants to do something more than just stand here, but he’s not sure what. He doesn’t want to push anything too far. He wants to be good at this.

The boy puts a small, wrapped box on the counter with an envelope underneath and slides it over.

“Happy Father's day.” He mumbles, suddenly fidgeting.

Billy stares at them.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

There’s another pause, heavy with all the weight and worry in Billy’s heart. He reaches for the box, rips the paper open easily, lifts up the lid.

“It’s uh… it’s just a couple tapes of some of those… bands you like. And talk about. All the time.” The boy snickers, but it catches in his throat. He’s so nervous. “My friend’s family was getting rid of a bunch of their tapes and I know you’ve got your old tape player still so… uh… yeah.”

It’s a mixed bag of absolute classics. Some tapes he used to have, others he’s always wanted. Zeppelin, Ted Nugent, Def Leppard, Billy Idol, AC/DC, Alice Cooper… his heart skips. He lost a lot of his tapes after all the sudden moves he’s had to make. His eyes start to well.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Billy pushes out on a whisper.

“Are they any good?”

“They’re… they’re awesome, kid.”

“There’s a card too y’know.” The boy adds, still shuffling nervously.

Billy slips it out from under the box, pulling his finger underneath the flap to open it.

It’s… it’s ridiculous. It’s one of the cheesiest cards Billy’s ever seen. He thinks back to all the stupid, jokey cards he used to pick out with his mother. The joke inside actually makes him laugh, loud and bright.

There’s words written underneath, quite a few scribbled out and then-

Sorry for all the trouble. I think I just don’t like knowing you’re right sometimes… but thank you for everything.

The words are nearly chicken scratch- wobbly letters clearly written with a nervous and shaky hand. The boy is damn near bouncing now, damn near trying to crawl out of his skin with nerves.

It’s the best, prettiest, most wonderful chicken scratch handwriting Billy has ever seen. He can barely see it now through his misty eyes.

“Your… handwriting is really nice.”

The boy scoffs loudly.

“Uh, thanks?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Still, Billy could swear he sees the boy preen, just a little.

“Thank you.” Billy says, fighting back tears, trying like hell to hold himself together. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t… I don’t have to yell at you so much. At all. I’m sorry about it.”

The boy is just staring at him, eyes a little wide and a little shocked. Billy feels his heart lurch. He just wants to be fucking good at this.

“I’m gonna do better.” Billy asserts through a not-so-wobbly-anymore voice

The boy gives a small smile that grows a bit wider. If Billy isn’t absolutely crazy yet, he’d say that the boy’s eyes are getting a bit misty too.

“So are those tapes actually good?” The boy asks, clearing his throat and trying to seem casual. Billy sees more and more of himself in him.

“Hell yeah… do you think I’d have bad taste?”

His son cackles just a bit, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, alright then. Whatever you say.”

There’s a pause. Billy takes the card and tucks it back into the envelope to save for himself- to put in a special place in his and Steve’s room. He then busies himself with shuffling through his tapes before his son says-

“We can… listen to some of them. If you want.”

Billy’s eyes shine with excitement and appreciation.

Listening to the tapes together is wonderful. They rib each other about what songs are better, what voices do and don’t sound the same, what the lyrics are like. They learn more about each other and maybe Billy is finally forced to admit that they’re a lot more alike than he realized.

And Billy starts to feel that maybe… maybe he can finally define what a father really means to him. And father’s days start to feel a bit more like they belong to him, too.

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leoprincess777 · 4 years ago

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⚡ astrobservations p.2 ⚡♌

🌟 houses

*this is a new theory i came up with but we might experience the energy of the opposite of our houses. for example, as a 1h venus person you may act more like a 7h venus where you avoid confrontation and value keeping the peace. as a 7h venus, you may act more like a 1h venus where you give more appericiation to your appearance and be more aggressive and argumentative.

as a 6h sun, you may find it more difficult to accomplish tasks at hand and be productive and it may feel like a burden to you, but you may easily get in contact with the astral realm and embrace your higher self.as a 12h sun, you may easily be productive and finish tasks and chores but struggle with surrendering to the divine, diving deep into spirituality or struggle to accept your gifts.

*mercury in 7h love to debate other people and share their ideas with other people

*jupiter in 5th gives excellent stage presence and abundance of creativity, its the ultimate performer and creator placement. people with chart ruler in 5h jupiter are often destined to become a creator/performer which can even mean being a tourist guide or a youtuber

*mercury in 5th people are never boring and they are extremely pleasant people who will make everything 5x more fun than it is. school work, chores, everything is funner with them!

🌟 synastry

*be VERY careful when getting into a relationship with 8th house synastry, especially if you are the planet person because you will most likely form an extreme attachment and obsession to the house person that will last for a very long time and can go into unhealthy lenghts. because you are the planet person and this is 8th house synastry we are talking about, the house person has immense power over you and they know it. they can see right through you. as the planet person, you want to be their one and only and feel they empower you, which makes you crave to be with them more because they give you power and their presence helps you get through anything. you will never forget about them and they become embeded in your subconscious. the house person will feel disturbed and triggered by you psychologically. but they become fascinated with the planet person. this makes an extremely transformative relationship. they bring out your true personality (especially if your sun is in their 8th house) to the surface and you trigger the heck out of them. the planet person usually finds the house person when the house person is at their rock bottom and sometimes vice versa.

*venus conjunct sun synastry has an effect where the venus person is widely known as the sun person’s sweetheart. the venus person becomes a magnefied and known person in the sun persons life, almost like a celebrity couple/duo while the sun person is known by the venus persons’ favorite people and inner circle mostly.

*12th house synastry is a BITCH i fucking hate it because it makes everything so blurry and unknown you have no idea wtf is going on but you also cant make your way out and you idealise the person a lot

6th house synastry is EXCELLENT because you’re involved in each others lives so much. more often than not, you spend majority of your time in a day together whether by hanging out or texting and the planet person usually reports the house person what are they doing during the day (like a random text of “im repairing a bike rn” or “im going to x, i’ll be back in awhile” etc) and you care about each other A LOT. the planet person can take a director role in the house persons life and they help each other a lot

mars conjunctions are wonderful synastries for sticking through thick and thin, it makes a very dynamic and sexy couple

with mercury in 7th house synastry, it’s IMPOSSIBLE for the love to remain as a secret if it’s a romance relationship. it will come out. one of you will admit it sooner or later

🌟 other

*wherever your mars is placed in, is where you’re not scared to take action or assert yourself. example: my pisces mars friends are not afraid of getting in dangerous waters likecliff diving, swimming in wild waves, going too deep in water etc. i, as a leo mars am not afraid of putting myself out there and performing

*sagittarius suns love to eat, while sagittarius moons have less appetite and desire to eat

*aries moons love themes of war, they have a warrior-like approach to most things

*aries-pisces people turn war and warriorhood into fantasy and make it dreamlike. (example: grimes’ (a pisces sun aries moon) WarNymph persona)

*i didnt observe this myself but read that mars opposite uranus people have deranges pasts with knives and it’s SO true.

*fire moons enjoy energetic and upbeat music, earth moons love chill music (like indie, lofi, can be r&b too maybe), air moons can enjoy techno music&rap, and i’m not sure about water moons cause i don’t have many water moons in my life but i’m thinking they would enjoy songs with lyrics or beats that make them feel something and songs with stories. i’ve seen that they tend to listen to music of all kinds. earth moons openly discriminate amongst genres and dgaf

*pisces placements have divine intelligence and are revolutionaries. this is rarely mentioned and pisces are often described as “airheads” which they are because of their giant imaginations and unique thought process but it’s a sign of intelligence. pisces people pick up on ANYTHING so quickly, absorb information like a sponge and analyze it themselves to form an opinion and understand it. their thoughts and opinions often dont make to other people or shock them. they will bring revolution and newness into whatever area they are working with. (example: einstein, rihanna, grimes (she’s literally trying to make the “ethereal techno” an official genre and creating avatars. revolution), billie eilish, kurt cobain (helllooo grunge king), paul mccartney, copernicus, aamir khan, steve jobs are all either pisces suns or risings

*sagittarians are similar in the sense that they like to discover new paths. they have the star quality (walt disney, britney spears, brad pitt, nicki minaj)

*it makes sense that the world’s most famous celebrity right now is a leo (kylie jenner)

*sagittarius and gemini risings have thick and pretty hair. it’s well styled and you want to run your hand through it. they’re physically advantaged

*aries suns and moons will just create trouble if they cant find it cause they love to throw themselves in tricky and dangerous situation as they feed off of it

*cancer moons get fucking poetic and dramatic at the slightest conflict, argument or emotional moment like they fucking channel the spirit of shakespeare. shhtoppp

*air sun, moon, mercury & venus dont like sadness, depression or traumatic memories so they will often program themselves to forget about heartbreaks or traumatic events and move on like they never happened or change the story and tell people different stories about what happened to convince themselves and twist reality.

*moon-saturn often naturally restricts food intake

most socialists/communists have taurus and sagittarius placements it’s INCREDIBLE

leo ic people are inherently and naturally charming af, thats because they are usually SHOWERED with love and affection as a child, they are often the only child and the golden child which obviously feeds someone with confidence for their life later on

libra moons will judge you on the inside if you are ugly sjdljsdf they dont like to be in aesthetically unpleasent spaces

#astrology #vivianstrology #astro #astrology observations #astrology notes #synastry #houses #sun #moon #venus #witchy #witchcraft #horoscope #zodiac #leo #gemini #libra #pisces #rising

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psychiatristreturning · 4 years ago

Text

four times steve harrington knew he loved you and the one time he told you (steve harrington x henderson!reader)

a/n: for anon. this is my longest fic so far. i worked real hard on this. i really like it. word count: 2.6k warnings: violence, language

5. 1975

Steve didn’t know what love was. All he knew is that his parents didn’t have it. Crushes were a different story, but Steve wanted to know what love was.

You knew what love was, it was your mom making you your favorite meal after a big test. It was your brother smiling at you, even though he was toothless. Love was your cat purring when you pet her. But you never knew romantic love, not with your parents or yourself.

Moving to Hawkins had changed your life. You had some friends back home, but this place? No one wanted to be friends with you. Nine-year-olds were brutal. Though at school there was one boy, who, even at nine, had established himself as quite the ladies man. But he seemed sweet, no matter how much of a jerk he could be sometimes.

At recess one day it all changed, for both of you.

The swing set creaked in the wind, it’s cold metal seat under you, bending under your weight. A group of rowdy boys ran past you, and one, ran directly into you. Tumbling face forward into the concrete you yelped in surprise, your face stinging. Blinking back tears you suddenly become aware of the boy behind you, who wanted to help.

“Are you okay?” his oddly timid voice sounded.

“Yeah, I’m good.” you turned to him, “Is it bad?” you questioned as he grimaced.

“Um, I think you’ll be okay. But I’ll take you to go get some band-aids.” he kicked a loose rock on the concrete, “I’m sorry.”

“No worries.” you stood up, realizing your knees were cut too.

Steve quickly stuck his arm out and wrapped his hand around your bicep, helping keep you steady. A teacher who was wondering haphazardly around called over, “Mr. Harrington! Where are you taking Ms. Henderson?”

The young boy looked at the teacher, dumbfounded, “To get some band-aids.” Couldn’t he see all the blood?

“No, she can do it herself. It’s not a man's job to care.” all Steve heard was his dad, and he didn’t have the courage to stand up to his dad, but he did to his teacher. He knew what was right.

“She needs help.” he stated, flat out. Steve didn’t understand what was wrong with helping you.

Now, you were uncomfortable in this stare off with the teacher, Steve’s grip becoming tighter. The teacher locked eyes with Steve, “You help her I’ll give you detention.”

Steve gulped knowing his dad would yell at him, but you, a person, needed help. Leaning over you whispered, “Go,” to him. He shouldn’t get in trouble for helping you.

“No.” he said firmly, helping you walk inside, the teacher screaming about his detention or whatever. The boy seemed unbothered, you admired it.

“Okay, well thank you.” you squeaked out. You knew he was probably only helping you because he bumped into you, but part of you wanted it to be different, and maybe it was.

He helped you into the school and into an empty bathroom, Steve was not the smartest per se, but he knew to clean the cuts. Which there were a lot of. “Steve,” he looked down at you from where he was cleaning a cut on your forehead, “Why did you do this?”

Steve looked adorably confused at you, “Do what?”

“Help me. Was it because you bumped me?”

He took a deep breath, thinking, “No, you deserve to be helped, you’re nice Y/N. And, yes, I hit you, but, you shouldn’t have to help your self up.”

You stared ahead, feeling something, feeling loved.

Steve wondered what this was. Why did he help you? Maybe, just maybe, because he loved you.

4. 1983

Who knew what was going on anymore? You had no idea where your brother was, and some reason you were with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, trying to summon his brother or something. Not that you would ever admit it, but you were truly terrified, lights flashing around you, yelling, fake bodies. You didn’t know what to do. The world was coming apart at its seams. Nancy, Jonathan, and you sat in the Byers house on the couch, shaking, worried about what would happen next. The weapons in your hands were clutched tightly, ready for action.

No one dared speak, when a knock came at the door. Startling all of you out of your skin. Nancy jumped up pointing her gun at the door. The banging on the door continued, when you heard, “Jonathan, man! I’m sorry! And I feel terrible! I wanna help!”

“Steve!” Nancy hissed quietly.

Jonathan walked up and swung open the door to stop the incessant banging. Steve practically falling into the house, but he quickly straightened up, seeing Nancy point her gun squarely at him. Steve raised his hands quickly above his head, “Hey, Nance, I’m sorry! You don’t have to kill me-”

“Steve get out.”

“I’m just here to talk to Byers.”

“Nancy, put the gun down!” you shouted at her.

Steve’s head whipped to you, his eyes widened, “Y/N! What are you doing here? Holy shit!”

No matter what Steve said to you, you didn’t look at him, knowing you’d get distracted by his stupidly perfect hair and crooked grin. Instead, you continued to walk slowly toward Nancy, “Put the gun down.” she was shaking, conceivably using every muscle in her body to get Steve out. To help him.

The lights started flashing irregularly, that’s when Jonathan started yelling. “Nancy! Stop it!” almost like she was in a trance, she snapped out, “He’s here.”

Steve’s eyes widened, “Who’s here? What’s here? What’s going on?”

At that moment it burst through the walls, the same thing you and Nancy saw in the Upside Down. They went to run to the back room, but you tripped, Nancy and Jonathan were already running, and Steve who was behind them stopped, and looked at you, and without hesitating, ran back to you. Grabbing your arms and lifting you up, helping you off the hard floor and clasping your hand, guiding you quickly into the back bedroom.

He kept holding your hand in the dark, your backs pressed against the door. Once you realized you were holding his hand, you hastily let go. Looking across the room at the blank wall, you remembered years ago, Steve helping you up, selflessly. And once again he was ready to save you.

Steve looked at you, shoulders pressed against each other, you looked amazing, and you were brave. But, Nancy, he had slept with Nancy, and they were something, hopefully. And at the moment, he realized there was something he felt for you that he didn’t feel when he thought of Nancy. But, now was not the time for that. If he told himself he loved Nancy, he would feel that eventually. So sure, he loved Nancy, he didn’t care about you. Never would. But part of Steve knew he was in deep shit.

3. 1984

Oh boy, you were a part of this mess from the start. You should’ve known it wasn’t going to go well from the second Dustin said that he had found a ‘lizard’. But that wasn’t even the weirdest part of it all. It wasn’t Billy. It wasn’t Eleven suddenly showing up again. It was, at least for you, Steve Harrington. Not him, but the way he was acting. He was acting, sweet? Steve was attempting to give your brother shitty dating advice which you had to cut into, saying “Just don’t ignore her. I mean, girls like some attention.”

Dustin looked back at you and questioned, “How many boyfriends have you had?”

You slapped his shoulder, “Shut up.” you grumbled.

Steve shrugged, “I mean, you are the girl here.”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement.”

“But are you?”

“Dustin shut up!” Steve looked at you with a face that if anyone saw they could only categorize as lovingly. But as soon as he saw Dustin smirking at him, he turned away, flustered, tripping over a stick on the path. Steve was confronted with remembering thinking, that he couldn’t care about you. Nancy was there. And while, yes, he grew to love Nancy, she didn’t love him. And that’s not her fault, but Nancy had broken his heart, and for the first time in quite sometime, his heart felt complete, and it was because of you. Not that he would tell you. Steve was content, for the first time in a long time, to sit back, and fall in love slowly. But, truly, deeply in love. Farther than he thought he could ever feel.

2. 1984

You had all recovered, somewhat, from what had happened. And life returned to a sense of normalcy. But that morning Dustin woke up, practically bouncing around the house, for the Snowball dance that night. You were chaperoning, so you had to look marginally good. But, what you weren’t prepared for was Steve Harrington coming over to help your brother get ready.

Hiding in your room getting ready, you heard a knock at the door, Dustin racing downstairs, and the unmistakable voice of Steve. While it was definitely nice to hear Dustin this happy, you realized that Steve would see you like this and that was not ideal right now.

You could hear the two of them walking upstairs and the voices getting closer, then a loud bang on your door, “Steve’s here! And we’ll have to go soon!”

You could hear Steve say quietly behind him, “The dance is in an hour and a half.”

“Okay and an hour and a half!”

“Alright Dusty!”

You turned your attention back to the mirror, and you heard Steve say, “Dusty? I’m gonna use that one.” the smirk was evident in his voice. That was followed quickly by a loud “Ow!” guessing Dustin hit him.

As you finished your makeup you couldn’t help but wonder why you had a new pit of anxiety in your stomach now that Steve was here. Why did that change the dance so much? What was it about him?

~~~~

Sure enough, an hour and a half later, as promised, Dustin was banging on your door. You could hear Steve hyping Dustin up, telling him how great he looked, and how all the girls will dance with him. And taking one last deep breath, you opened your door and walked downstairs. Steve was absolutely in awe of you. Steve knew he was over Nancy Wheeler, you were so wonderful, smart, and beautiful. God, he thought you were the most heavenly creature, and he didn’t believe in God. You walked shakily on the godforsaken heels to Dustin where you smirked at him. “Nice hair.”

“Thanks, it’s pretty cool.” he nodded slowly trying to be cool.

Steve was still gaping at you, “Uh, you, um, ready to go?”

Dustin giggled at Steve’s red face, and you answered, “Yeah, thanks by the way.” He just awkwardly nodded, shoving a free hand in his pocket, the other opening the door, you called out to your mom, “Mom we’re going!”

“Alright kids, have fun!” she called back from the kitchen.

You guys shuffled out of the house and began the awkward drive to the school.

~~~~

Once you guys arrived you and Steve began the final pep talk for Dustin. “Alright, now remember, you want to care but not to much.”

You stopped Steve, “But do care.”

“Not to much.”

Leaning forward you retorted, “He’s not going to by her a house or something.”

“I’m just saying!” he threw up his hands in defense, “All the girls are gonna love you, I mean,” he stopped for a minute, “you look great!”

“Yeah! Looking great!” you attempted to back him up.

“They won’t be able to resist me with these pearls.” he purred and both of you began a chorus of ‘No’ and ‘Don’t do that’.

He got out of the car and looked back at you, “Are you coming?”

“I’ll be in a minute.” Steve’s eyes widened realizing he was in a car, alone, with you. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Oh it’s no problem-”

You cut him off promptly, “I mean for everything. This year, last year, you’ve really changed. In a good way,” looking into his sweet, brown eyes, you smiled, “I really appreciate you.”

“It’s the right thing to do, plus, I was an asshole. It was a real low bar.”

You laughed softly, “I’m going to go, but I think you should come in and dance with me.”

Steve’s stomach flipped when you said to dance with you. You wanted him to come. With you. “I wouldn’t want to-”

“Please.” he couldn’t resist your pleading eyes.

“Sure.” Steve was very busy trying to hide his smile while stepping out of the car.

You slid out of the backseat the Dustin had forced you into, and as soon as you stepped out onto your heels you tripped and began to fall. But someone's arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back up. Steve.

“Thank you.” you replied breathlessly, “I’ve gotta stop falling around you.” you made a lame attempt at a joke.

He let go, and you walked in a little bit ahead of him, and under his breath he whispered, “I’ve already fallen for you.” no matter how cheesy he might sound.

Steve Harrington loved you.

1. 1985

All you wanted was ice cream. You didn’t want to end up taking care of two teenagers high on Russian truth serum. Trying to keep Robin and Steve collected when they’re not high is difficult enough. Robin was at the absolute goofiest you’ve ever seen her and Steve, oh, Steve. Over the past year you had harbored an extreme crush on the idiot. However, this was just sad. You were glad they were alive, but this was definitely the finale of any part of his old personality. You sat with Robin and Steve in the movie theater, Steve bopping your nose continuously. “Boop!” you grabbed his hand and moved it away from your face.

“Shush.”

He dropped his head onto your shoulder, and he looked up at you with his chocolate brown eyes, “You’re pretty,” he whispered, smiling like an idiot.

“Thank you.” you whispered back, trying to act stern even as your stomach erupted in butterflies. All of a sudden Robin rushed out of the theater, mumbling something about water. You followed, Steve stumbling after you, he gripped your arm again and leaned into your side when he said to you;

“I’m in love with you.”

You stopped in your tracks, Steve going on without you, a stupid smile on your face. Then it hit you, he’s high. It’s not him. You shook your head to rid the idea of Steve loving you. And you walked after him. Steve and Robin were drinking water manically when you got out of the theater. Both talking nonsense about Back to the Future.

You stood, leaning against the wall. Looking lovingly at Steve. In their haze they stared nonsensically at the ceiling. Suddenly running to the bathroom, you ran after them.

The two of them were curled over toilets, throwing up. You sat back, feeling horrible for what they had to endure.

After what you can only describe as traumatic sickness, the three of you sat on the floor in stalls, Robin leaned her head onto your shoulder, and you spoke to Steve, knowing you couldn’t say it to his face. “Do you mean what you said, Steve?”

Somehow in his mind, Steve knew what he admitted, “Yes.” he answered quietly. “Yes, I love you.” Robin smiled at you. And you felt hopeful, “Did I overstep?”

“No,” Robin nodded her head quickly telling you to keep talking, “I, uh, I love you too.”

Steve slid under the wall and next to you in the stall, “I would kiss you right now, but I just threw up.”

“I got that.”

“I’ll make it up to you soon enough.”

“You two are disgusting,” Robin said, smiling at the display of two people obviously in love next to her.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington imagine

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harringrovetrashrat · 4 years ago

Note

Intercrurral prompt: Billy’s been harassing Steve all year, and it’s taking everything Steve has not to think bisexual thoughts about the guy he HATES. But one night, wrong place and wrong time, where they run into each other in the woods while Steve is on demodog patrol and Billy is escaping a bad run-in with Neil. Things boil over - the biggest imagery I have is Billy harshly whispering in Steve’s ear “Tell me you want this. TELL me you want ME.”

Okay, okay, okay

Here we GO. Alright. It took me a moment to find just the right way to do this, but I finally got it.

And it somehow ended up over 3k, whoooops. Let’s hope the read more actually works this time lol

TW for one use of the f-slur and misogynist language from Billy.

Steve ran a hand over his face as he stomped through the trees. The cold February air bit at his skin, made his nose run. Steve sniffed for what felt like the millionth time, still unable to stop the jittering in his bones. He couldn’t go home. Things felt too still, too quiet tonight. Something was going to happen. Steve could feel it.

He twirled the bat again, stretching out his fingers. The trees were dark against the snow, the cloudless night allowing the moon to shine in through breaks in the trees. Steve bit his lip, thinking about the day. It sent a spike of warmth to his gut and he frowned, annoyed with himself.

It wasn’t much different than normal. He spent the day tailing after Nancy and Jonathan, ignoring Tommy when he passed him in the hall, and trying to keep his dick to behave whenever Billy pressed up against him. Or pushed him. Or teased him. Or fucking looked at him, jesus. Steve had a problem and he really didn’t want to have it. He’s looked at guys before, done stuff before, but of all fucking people, his dick had to be interested in Billy fucking Hargrove.

He’d prefer his dick be interested in Jonathan.

There was a snap from a few meters ahead in the trees and Steve froze, all thoughts exiting his brain. His blood pumped through his veins and his pulse skyrocketed as he adjusted his grip on the bat. He quietly made his way forward, looking through the brush for anything weird. Anything slimy. There were some dark spots on the ground that Steve followed, panic clawing its way into his chest.

“Fuck!” He heard someone hiss. The sound came from in front of him and Steve relaxed minutely. It wasn’t demodogs.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t still a threat.

Steve did his best to make sure his shoes didn’t crunch too much in the snow as he approached a clearing. Someone was sitting on a log, hunched over on themselves, but they looked human enough. There wasn’t any weird smell, nothing too obviously weird, so Steve lowered the bat.

“Hello?” The person on the log jumped, standing and whirling around, fists up and ready. Bruised as well. Which was why Steve wasn’t surprised to find himself looking at Billy Hargrove.

A messed up Billy Hargrove.

He had a black eye and a bloody nose, with what looked like a small cut at his hairline. Steve kind of wished he hadn’t said anything. Billy relaxed minutely, face scrunching into a sneer.

“Harrington? What the fuck are you doing out here? Mommy and Daddy playing house?” Steve ignored the sting, flaring his nostrils as he flexed his hand around the bat. Billy’s eyes darted down before widening. “What the fuck?” His voice lost it’s teasing edge, verging into actually scared.

“Oh,” Steve said, not wanting to drop the bat in case he needed it. For whatever reason. “Just-- On a walk.”

“On a walk?” Billy droned, unimpressed. “Really? Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?” Steve bristled and whatever was in the air that night pressed him forward, made him confrontational.

“Maybe,” he replied. Billy tensed up, nostrils flaring as he grit his teeth. “Smart people don’t come out here at night.” Billy barked out a mean laugh.

“S’Why you’re out here then, huh?” Steve stopped a few feet away, slinging the bat over his shoulder. Now that he was closer, he could see that Billy’s cut was still bleeding. Could see that his wounds were fresh. That he was shaking.

“Seriously,” Steve said. “The woods around here aren’t safe.”

“Safer than other places,” Billy grumbled angrily. He looked up at Steve, eyes sharp. “If they’re so unsafe, why are you out here for a walk?” Steve’s mind went blank as he grasped for a reason.

“I-- Well, I mean--”

“You out here meeting some fag lover?” Billy said, smile sharp and mean. Steve clenched his fist, cheeks going ruddy. Billy tilted his head, pushing his cheek out with his tongue. Steve couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn there.

“No,” he replied, stony. “Honestly just out for a walk.”

“Really? You and Creep Byers don’t meet up when Wheeler’s being too much of a bitch?” Steve gripped the bat tightly, scowling.

“Don’t call her that,” he snapped. Billy snorted, hiding a grimace, and rolled his eyes.

“She left you, man,” he said. “And you follow her and her new boyfriend around like a fucking lost dog.” Steve felt his cheeks heating up again, felt a blush creeping down his neck.

“Fuck you,” he said. “It’s called having friends, ever heard of it?” Billy sneered, getting up into Steve’s space. It made it a little hard to think, having him this close. Close enough that Steve could see where Billy would freckle in the sun, how blue his eyes were, could fucking smell him. He pushed the thoughts down, ignoring the heat in belly, just from having Billy close. Stupid dick.

“You think you’re so above everyone, everything, don’t you?” Steve rolled his eyes, letting the bat fall to his side. Billy wasn’t a threat, not really. Not worthy of the bat at least.

“What’s your issue, man?” Steve asked. Billy shoved him a little, making Steve take a step back.

“You’re my issue, Harrington,” he snapped. “And I told you to fucking plant your feet.”

“What the fuck did I ever--”

“Your fucking existence fucking pisses me off!” Billy shoved him again, harder this time, and Steve let out a grunt, dropping the bat. “You’ve got a fucking family that gives a shit, you’ve got fucking money, you’ve got fucking everything, and you--” Billy punctuated each reason with a shove, pushing until Steve was back up against a tree. When he cut himself off, something flashed over his face. Worry, fear, Steve wasn’t sure, but it was gone as soon as it was there. “You, Harrington, just piss me off.”

“You don’t know shit about me, Hargrove,” Steve snapped, trying to push him off. Billy pushed back, pinning him against the tree. Steve let out a grunt, freezing up as Billy’s pressed up closer, getting into Steve’s face. This was… dangerous. Steve was already chubbing up in his pants and he swallowed thickly, giving some more frantic shoves to Billy’s shoulders. “Fucking get off,” he said, voice high and pitchy. Billy sneered, shoving Steve to the ground, standing above him.

“You’re such a fucking pussy,” he sneered.

“At least I’m not some fucking violent freak,” Steve said, sharp and cutting and cruel. It’s what he wanted to be, in that moment. Billy did that to him. Brought out the King Steve who was mean, alone, and hurt. And the words worked. Billy snarled, jerking Steve up off the ground. Steve grabbed at Billy’s hands, stumbling.

“Fuck you,” Billy hissed. He gave Steve a shake, shoving him into another tree, slamming a hand next to his face. Steve’s chest heaved with anxiety and, unfortunately, arousal. He kind of had a thing for being manhandled. At least, being manhandled by Billy. The blonde pressed close, hurt shining in his eyes behind the fury. It threw Steve for a bit of a loop. “Fuck. You.” Billy repeated, voice wobbling. He pushed at Steve, pressing him up against the tree, before pausing. His eyes widened and Steve flushed. It was bound to happen, but Steve had held out some childish hope that Billy wouldn’t notice he’d been sporting a boner for a little while. “What--”

“You’ve made your point--” Steve tried, tense as he tried to sink into the tree.

“Are you hard?” Billy asked. Steve swallowed and closed his eyes, wishing the world could swallow him up. “Seriously?”

“I’m not talking with you about this,” Steve squeaked, trying to move away. Billy pinned him even more against the tree, sliding a leg between Steve’s thighs. He let out an involuntary whimper.

“You are,” Billy said, almost with wonder. Steve opened his eyes, meeting Billy’s blue ones. They were calculating, stripping him down, and it made Steve shiver. Billy’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip and his mouth curled up at the side. “Is it from the lack of pussy? Not enough girls begging to wet your dick?”

“Why are you so gross,” Steve breathed, closing his eyes again. “It’s not-- Just drop it--”

“Oh, so you only get like this,” Billy trailed a finger over Steve’s clothed dick, making him let out a choked cry, “For me?” Steve’s eyes snapped open and Billy grinned. There was something hungry in his eyes that made something hot curl through Steve, made him breath a little harder. But, well, this was Billy. He was probably fucking with him.

“Fuck off,” Steve breathed out, finding it hard to control his voice. He tried to push at Billy’s shoulders, tried to avoid those piercing eyes, but Billy caught his face in one hand, making Steve look at him. He slowly pushed his thumb into Steve’s mouth, pulling it open. The salty taste of his skin on Steve’s tongue made him breathe harder, chest heaving, pupils dilating.

God he was gonna get the shit beat outta him for this.

“I thought I was,” Billy began, trailing off. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth, tongue peeking out as he looked in Steve’s eyes, at his mouth, still open and panting. Gripped Steve through his pants, making his legs tremble. He was grateful for the tree behind him, that was for sure, otherwise he might have stumbled from his legs turning into jelly. Steve’s chest heaved, nervous and aroused, and Billy exhaled heavily through his nose.

“Thaw yoo were wha?” Steve asked, breathy and mangled from Billy still holding his mouth open, thumb pressed against Steve’s tongue.

“The way you look at me,” Billy said, eyes heated now, hungry, almost rabid with want. “Thought I was imagining it. But this,” he rubbed over Steve’s erection again, making him tremble, “Suggests that maybe I wasn’t.” Steve stared at Billy, dick throbbing. Billy licked over his bottom lip, almost unconsciously. His eyes flicked down to Steve’s bulge, a weird groan escaping him. It made Steve’s dick twitch in his jean almost painfully. Billy’s eyes widened and his eyes snapped back up to Steve’s.

“‘illy,” Steve tried, still unable to speak clearly with that thick fucking thumb on his tongue.

“God,” Billy groaned, shaking again, but with restraint. Like he was trying not to touch Steve more than he was already. “You’re so fucking-- You want this, don’t you?” Steve tried to shake his head, to deny the fucking obvious truth. “You want my dick in your mouth? Stretching those pretty pink lips?” And god, Steve did. He’d never had a dick in his mouth but god, did he want. He nodded, weakly. Billy tsked, pulling Steve’s mouth open more, until it almost hurt. His dick shouldn’t have liked it as much as it did but, well. “No no, Harrington,” Billy crooned. “Use your words.” He leaned in, lips brushing against Steve’s ear as their bodies pressed together. Steve couldn’t feel the cold, couldn’t feel anything but the heat of Billy’s body pressed against him. Of his erection pressing against Steve’s thigh. Fuck. “Tell me you want this,” he hissed, breath puffing against Steve’s ear, sending goosebumps across his body. He gave a full body shiver, could practically feel Billy’s grin against his lobe, a wet tongue slowly following the shell. Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe and he never wanted it to stop. “Tell me you want me.”

“‘uck , ‘illy,” Steve wheezed, arching his back so their hips ground together, eliciting a moan from himself and a hiss from Billy. “Ye, ye, p’ease.” Billy’s hand fell out of his mouth, one hand gripping Steve’s hip as the other made quick work of his belt and zipper. There was a damp spot on the outside of his jeans, the inside of his underwear sticky from where he had been steadily leaking, and Billy’s sharp inhale made Steve groan. Billy looked at him, eyes hazy with lust as he licked his palm, maintaining eye contact as his gripped Steve’s dick, freed from the confines of his clothes. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and his mouth opened in a silent gasp as he tilted his head back, thunking against the tree. “Fuck,” he whined, hands gripping Billy’s biceps.

“I fucking knew it,” Billy hissed, leaning to press open mouthed kisses to Steve’s neck. The heat of Billy mixed with the cold, harsh air, drove Steve fucking mad. His head was foggy, filled to the brim with Billy. “Every time I shoved you, fucking every time I looked at you, I could see it.” Steve gasped as Billy latched onto his neck, biting and sucking. It was so different than anything Steve had experienced, even with the guys he’d fooled around with. Billy was rough, yet somehow still gentle, still attentive. His hand was slow, leisurely stroking Steve and swiping the head with his thumb. Steve wasn’t sure he’d still be upright if it wasn’t for Billy holding him up against the tree.

“See what?” He gasped.

“That you wanted me,” Billy replied, breath hot against Steve’s neck. “Wanted me to shove you, touch you.” Steve was dripping, shaking as Billy teased him. “You know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you?” Billy whispered against Steve’s skin. Steve shook his head, unable to make his voice work. “Since that fucking party. Wanted to fucking claim you.” Steve found that he really, really wanted that too.

“Then do it,” he rasped, one shaky hand coming up to tangle in the hair at the nape of Billy’s neck. Billy’s hand faltered before pulling away. Steve whined, head tilting back down to look. Billy looked almost feral, eyes wild and face flushed. He made quick work of his jeans, pulling out his cock, angry and red and hard. Steve’s mouth fucking watered. Billy held his hand up, the one slick with Steve’s precum, and ordered,

“Lick.” Steve didn’t need to be told twice. He ran his tongue over Billy’s hand, getting it wet and spit slick. Billy watched, breathing hard through his nose, before he pulled his hand away, using the other to turn Steve around. “Pants at your knees, pretty boy.” His voice was low, husky, and Steve would do whatever he said. He could feel it, the need to obey. He’d never wanted to just let someone have their way with him, use him, but he found himself imagining Billy, relaxed as he ordered Steve to please him. He shuddered at the thought. Steve shimmied his jeans and underwear down, leaning against the tree and looking over his shoulder. Billy was stroking himself slowly, letting drool spill down his tongue and onto his dick until is was wet, dripping with saliva. Steve groaned.

“I’m not-- I’ve never--”

“Don’t you worry,” Billy said, hands gripping Steve’s cheeks as he squatted, pulling them apart. “When I fuck you, it’s gonna be thorough. Gonna open you on my fingers until you beg for me to stuff you with my cock.” And then he licked a hot, wet stripe from Steve’s perineum all the way up to his hole, circling the rim.

“Oh holy shit,” Steve cried, hips jerking back. He felt Billy’s chuckle against his skin. He lost himself in the sensation of Billy’s tongue, his mouth, licking and sucking at Steve’s taint and thighs until they were slick and wet. The sound he made, primal and needy, when Billy stood, almost made him embarrassed. He was too horny though.

“Clench those thighs for me, King,” Billy said, pressing a kiss to one of Steve’s back dimples. Steve shuddered, but did as he was told. When he felt Billy’s dick slide against the crease of his legs, he gasped, fingers clenching against the bark of the tree. The head of Billy’s cock slowly pushed in, gliding through the spit, now warmed by Steve’s skin. It was veiny, thick, and velvety soft against the meat of Steve’s thighs. When the tip brushed against the back of his balls, Steve whimpered, biting his lip. Billy’s hand was tight, bruising against his hip. The other came and pulled Steve’s hair, tilting his head back so he couldn’t hide any noises.

“Please, please, please,” Steve rambled, mind blanking out except for Billy. The feel of him between his thighs, the smell of his cologne, fuck, even the rough denim of his jeans against the back of his thighs. He didn’t even know what he was begging for. Billy let out a long, rumbling groan.

“Jesus fuck,” Billy said, voice sounding as wrecked as Steve felt. His hips snapped forward, slapping against Steve’s thighs and ass, and Steve gasped, fingers painfully gripping at the tree bark. He hadn’t expected it, but the glide of Billy’s dick against his thighs was incredible. The way the head tickled the back of his balls, the way he could feel Billy’s dick leaking precum, sliding it around as he made Steve’s thighs slicker and slicker. Steve clamped them as tightly as he could, getting an aborted moan for his efforts. He grinned as Billy moved faster, hips slamming against Steve, forcing high pitched moans out every time. “Look at you,” Billy rumbled. “So fuckin’ pretty like this, Harrington. Bent over like the needy little bitch you are.” Steve should have bristled at the words, should have pushed Billy away, but something inside him went white hot in pleasure. Made his cock drip.

Like most things Steve was discovering about himself, it came down to Billy. If anyone else tried it, he’d hate it. But, fuck. Billy made it sound like the best thing in the world.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed out. “Fuck yeah I am.” Billy let out a sound that made heat burst in Steve’s groin, brought him even closer to the edge. His hips shuttered, moving wildly until he slammed himself against Steve, curling down and pressing his forehead against Steve’s back as he came. Steve moved one hand down, jerking himself off almost painfully fast. The feeling of spit and cum, warm against his skin, cooling rapidly in the air, was almost too much. Billy moved to pull away but Steve whined, making him stop. “Just-- Stay there.”

“Jesus,” he heard Billy whisper. And like that, Steve came, painting the tree in white stripes of spunk. He cried out, loud where Billy had been quiet, muffling his sounds. Steve was loud, he knew that, but he reached obscene levels as he trembled, orgasm making him nearly black out.

They stayed that way, panting as their sweat rapidly cooled. Billy finally pulled away, hands leaving Steve and he missed the feeling immediately.

God he was so fucked.

Steve didn’t turn around as he caught his breath, shakily using the tree to stand erect. He pulled up his jeans, not bothering to clean up. Wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to himself that he wanted the feeling of cum and spit sticking to his skin, dampening his jeans and underwear, dirty and so fucking hot. When he turned around, Billy had his back to him, the sound of his zippo clicking loud in the wake of what they’d just done.

“Uhm,” Steve began, because, like, where do you go from here?

“We can keep this under wraps,” Billy said, back still to Steve. He let out a cloud of smoke, thicker in the cold air. Steve noticed the tension in his shoulders, in his voice, and he swallowed, wondering if he’d fucked up.

“Yeah,” Steve said, fingers twitching nervously against his thigh. “But uh,” he took a sharp inhale, forcing the words out, “My parents aren’t usually home so, you know, if you ever wanna like, let off some steam--”

“Aw, Harrington,” Billy teased, finally turning around. “You like my dick that much?” Steve wasn’t sure what it was, but something told him he needed to be honest. To tell the truth, or Billy’d run and never look back.

“Yeah,” he replied, honest. Billy’s eyes widened and his mouth went a little slack. But the attraction and want that shone in his eyes let Steve know he’d made the right choice. “Maybe next time you can let me choke on it.”

#anon #prompt #harringrove #steve harrington #Billy Hargrove #lemon #intercrural #gross boys being gross boys #dom/sub vibes

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