Darebear_21 Ao3 Writer

Billy watched from the hallway, Eddie perched on the counter, shoulders hunched, hands fisted in the front of Steve’s shirt like he was holding on for dear life. His face was flushed deep pink, curls sticking damply to his forehead, lips parted as he breathed a little too fast. 

Billy’s gaze shifted to Steve, who stood between Eddie’s knees, one hand braced on the counter to steady himself, the other still holding the small cup of medicine. His shoulders had started to slump, the earlier patience wearing thin into quiet exhaustion.

“Eddie,” Steve tried again, voice gentle but fraying at the edges, “you said you’d be brave for me, remember?”

Eddie’s response was immediate.

A sharp shake of his head, curls sticking to his flushed cheeks as his lower lip wobbled. “Don’t wanna,” he whined, turning his face away again. “It’s yucky.”

“Yeah, I know but it’ll make you feel better—”

Eddie made a louder, more insistent noise, twisting slightly on the counter. “No, no—!”

Billy exhaled through his nose before he crossed into the kitchen. 

His hands landing on Steve’s hips—firm, but gentle—thumbs pressing in just enough to get his attention.

Steve startled slightly at the contact, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Move,” he said, quieter than expected. Not sharp. Certain.

Billy didn’t even look at him at first, his focus already on Eddie—but his hands gave a small, grounding squeeze, guiding Steve back a half-step.

Billy stepped into the space he left behind without hesitation.

He took the medicine from Steve’s hand in one smooth motion, barely glancing at it before setting his attention fully on Eddie.

Eddie had already gone still.

There was still resistance there, but it had changed shape—less push, more uncertainty.

 “No—”

“Open your mouth.”

—-

Eddie gets sick and regresses hard—whiny, clingy, and refusing to cooperate. Steve does his best to be gentle, but it’s Billy who finally gets through to him.

Turns out, Eddie needs both softness and structure to get through it.

“Be still means be still, Munson.” Billy’s voice wasn’t loud but it didn’t need to be.

Eddie groaned low in his throat, dragging a hand down his face but stilled. Mostly. His socks brushed faintly against the carpet, restless energy bleeding out in small, stubborn movements. He pressed his forehead against the wall, curls falling forward, hands clenched tight at his sides. He was trying—

“You’ve got three minutes left,” Billy said, calmer now. “You can do three minutes.”

Eddie shook his head immediately, hands trembling at his sides now, his shoulders curling inward, like he was trying to fold himself out of existence. A sharp, broken sob tore out of his chest. “No, I—”

“Eddie,” Billy cut in, “Do you think Steve wants to come home and hear how you’ve been acting?” 

_____

Eddie refuses to stay still.

Billy refuses to let him spiral.

And somewhere between a timeout, a breakdown, and Steve’s steady hands, Eddie ends up needing a little more help settling than he’d ever admit out loud.

The Mind Flayer surges within him, furious now. The black deepens. The air thickens. His veins feel like they’re buzzing with static.

But there’s something it doesn’t understand.

It knows anger.

It knows fear.

It knows control.

But it doesn’t understand love.

It doesn’t understand that even broken memories can cut both ways.

His mother’s voice threads through to him again — not perfect, not whole, but real enough.

“You don’t have to be like him.” 

Those were her last words to him, cracking through the speaker of the landline they called each other on before she left for good, reminding him that his father’s wrath was not his own to inherit.

Now, those words drive him to not be passenger in his own mind, to this thing that wants to use him to fulfill its mission of Hawkin’s destruction.

He plants his feet inside his own mind.

The cold tries to bend him.

He bends back.

For a flicker — a heartbeat — the darkness cracks.

Light leaks in.

Not Hawkins light.

Not steel mill light.

The bright yellow rays of California sun.

And in that sliver of in that beaming light, he is Billy.

Not a weapon. Not a host. Not a monster.

Just a boy who once ran toward the ocean and believed the world was his, just for a little bit on that beach his mother brought him to so they could escape his father’s anger for a few hours.

The pressure behind his eyes slams down again.

But now it has resistance.

Now it has to fight him.

And Billy Hargrove —

even flayed, even burning, even breaking —

doesn’t go quiet.

Not this time.

-/————————

After moving to Hawkins, Billy Hargrove excepts to survive until graduation — nothing more.

He never planned on being anyone’s shield.

But Max is his responsibility, whether he asked for it or not.

Billy knows how to take a hit. What he doesn’t know is how to stop Max from learning the same lesson. And so, slowly and without ever naming it, he starts drawing a line — with Max standing behind it, and Billy between her and everything that wants to hurt her.

Along the way, Max learns the difference between anger meant to hurt and anger meant to keep her safe. And as Billy understands how to stand between Max and the world, Max learns how to trust the space he makes for her.

Told through moments both loud and small, this is a story about a brother learning to protect without breaking. Set between school hallways, late-night movies, bruised knuckles, and small, stubborn acts of care, this is a story about anger redirected, trust earned the hard way, and the quiet ways love can be shaped when you don’t know how to name it yet.

First Chapter Out now on AO3 💛

Billy Hargrove knows how to disappear after nights like this — nights when the alcohol in his father’s veins fuels his anger and makes him forget where the line is.

What Billy doesn’t know is where to go when running isn’t enough. When the damage isn’t just his anymore. When the only thing that matters is keeping his sister safe.

He shows up at Steve Harrington’s door with a bruised face, a sleeping Max in his arms, and no plan beyond surviving the night.

It’s enough for Steve — the same Steve Billy once tormented, the same Steve he once beat senseless — to open the door to both him and Max anyway.

And to remind Billy, through quiet presence, gentle hands, and the careful tending of old and new wounds, that he matters too and that he is not beyond saving.

Read now on AO3 :)

Panic tastes like metal.

It's thick and suffocating.

It lives in Steve’s mouth, his lungs, his memories—cold Russian steel, demo-bats, red lightning and hands that had beaten him relentlessly. The nightmare don’t stay in the past. This trauma follows him making him wake into breathless fear and a body that forgets how to breath.

But safety smells like Billy.

Who's carries the heat of the California sun and who holds him with steady hands through the worst of it. And coaxes air back into his lung with patiences and quiet praise. Eddie sleeps beside them, heavily medicated, bandaged, healing, and breathing.

Now Available to Read 🩵

For once, Dylan Rhodes isn't chasing ghosts. He's holding to what's real.

Because what Dylan found best to soothe the uneasiness that plagued him after these dreams was to hold onto the one real thing that ever felt solid in his world built on illusions.

He let himself shift, turning toward Atlas. He reached out, his hand slipping beneath Atlas’ back coaxing him onto his side gently. "Come here," he murmured, too low to be heard, more instinct than a request.

Atlas stirred, a low sigh escaping his lips as his body turned with the motion, without protest, folding easily into Dylan’s space, head nestling just beneath his chin.

Dylan wrapped his arm around him, drawing him close, chest to chest. He let his hand move slowly, rhythmically, up and down Atlas’s bare back. Not for Atlas's comfort—he was already gone to the world—but for his own. To remind himself this was real.

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Bail Organa Additional Tags: Inspired by Star Wars, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Possessive Anakin Skywalker, Stewjoni Obi-Wan Kenobi, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, Pregnant Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Top Anakin Skywalker, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Mild Smut Series: Part 1 of What If You Had Stayed With Me Summary:

Before Obi-Wan could react, Anakin had leapt back onto the platform, pushing him into the shadowed safety the speeder bus offered, hiding them from prying eyes.

Anakin crowded him against the reinforced durasteel paneling, his hands cradled Obi-Wan’s face with surprising gentleness for someone so reckless. And in those beautiful steel blue eyes was that same mischievous spark, it was one Obi-Wan had seen so many times before, usually right before Anakin would ignore a direct order and did things his own way, back when things were simple … when lines hadn’t yet been crossed.

“N-No, Anakin, wait! Not here.” Obi-Wan stammered, a nervous blush spreading across his face as his hands scrambled at Anakin’s chest, trying to put some respectful distance between them.

“Yes here.” Anakin whispered, his voice low and firm, his face inches away from Obi-Wan’s.

There was barely a pause before Anakin closed the distance, his lips pressing against Obi-Wan’s with a desperation he didn’t try to hide.

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Fluff, Comfort, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, Breastfeeding, Infant Anakin Skywalker, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi, Stewjoni Obi-Wan Kenobi, Top Qui-Gon Jinn, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Married Life, Good Parent Obi-Wan Kenobi, Good Parent Qui-Gon Jinn Series: Part 3 of A Precious Gift Named Anakin Skywalker Summary:

The former Jedi Master still found it difficult to believe that Anakin Skywalker, his son, was finally here in his arms.

And there hasn’t been a moment since he was born that went by where Qui-Gon wasn’t brushing kisses across that soft blonde hair, counting each of ten tiny fingers and toes, or lightly tracing the roundness of his cheeks.

He adored every part of his son. Anakin was the most precious gift Obi-Wan could have ever given him, and Qui-Gon made sure to thank his young husband for it every single day.

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Bail Organa Additional Tags: Inspired by Star Wars, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Possessive Anakin Skywalker, Stewjoni Obi-Wan Kenobi, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, Pregnant Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 1 of What If You Had Stayed With Me Summary:

Before Obi-Wan could react, Anakin had leapt back onto the platform, pushing him into the shadowed safety the speeder bus offered, hiding them from prying eyes.

Anakin crowded him against the reinforced durasteel paneling, his hands cradled Obi-Wan’s face with surprising gentleness for someone so reckless. And in those beautiful steel blue eyes was that same mischievous spark, it was one Obi-Wan had seen so many times before, usually right before Anakin would ignore a direct order and did things his own way, back when things were simple … when lines hadn’t yet been crossed.

“N-No, Anakin, wait! Not here.” Obi-Wan stammered, a nervous blush spreading across his face as his hands scrambled at Anakin’s chest, trying to put some respectful distance between them.

“Yes here.” Anakin whispered, his voice low and firm, his face inches away from Obi-Wan’s.

There was barely a pause before Anakin closed the distance, his lips pressing against Obi-Wan’s with a desperation he didn’t try to hide.

Before Obi-Wan could react, Anakin had leapt back onto the platform, pushing him into the shadowed safety the speeder bus offered, hiding them from prying eyes.

Anakin crowded him against the reinforced durasteel paneling, his hands cradled Obi-Wan’s face with surprising gentleness for someone so reckless. And in those beautiful steel blue eyes was that same mischievous spark, it was one Obi-Wan had seen so many times before, usually right before Anakin would ignore a direct order and did things his own way, back when things were simple … when lines hadn’t yet been crossed.

“N-No, Anakin, wait! Not here.” Obi-Wan stammered, a nervous blush spreading across his face as his hands scrambled at Anakin’s chest, trying to put some respectful distance between them.

“Yes here.” Anakin whispered, his voice low and firm, his face inches away from Obi-Wan’s.

There was barely a pause before Anakin closed the distance, his lips pressing against Obi-Wan’s with a desperation he didn’t try to hide.

Obi-Wan's body reacted instantly–his body surrendering against the pull of a bond they were never meant to have.

The former Jedi Master still found it difficult to believe that Anakin Skywalker, his son, was finally here in his arms.

And there hasn’t been a moment since he was born that went by where Qui-Gon wasn’t brushing kisses across that soft blonde hair, counting each of ten tiny fingers and toes, or lightly tracing the roundness of his cheeks.

He adored every part of his son. Anakin was the most precious gift Obi-Wan could have ever given him, and Qui-Gon made sure to thank his young husband for it every single day.

Even going as far as reciting their wedding vows in the form of a lullaby.

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Dune - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Paul Atreides & Duncan Idaho, Paul Atreides/Duncan Idaho Characters: Paul Atreides, Wellington Yueh, Duncan Idaho Additional Tags: Caladan (Dune), Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Paul Atreides, Protective Duncan Idaho, Coughing, Sharing a Bed, Fever Summary:

“Thank you, Dr. Yueh”, came out in a small quiet raspy voice. Paul watched with tired eyes as the door to his bedroom closed after the Doctor's rushed retreat, … only if he had let it.

Instead, riding on the highs of his heated delusional thinking, he had stood on shaky legs to reach the door in time to prevent it from shutting all the way.

Once again he should have stayed where he was, in the comfort of his own chambers but he couldn’t.

With his health compromised, the possibility of having another vivid dream while he slept was inevitable.

He was vulnerable, the paranoia growing in the back of his mind told him so.

Therefore, he was going to push his already exhausted body to its limit in order to reach the one place where he felt the safest and most protected, Duncan Idaho’s chambers.

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Dune - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Paul Atreides & Duncan Idaho, Paul Atreides/Duncan Idaho Characters: Paul Atreides, Wellington Yueh, Duncan Idaho Additional Tags: Caladan (Dune), Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Paul Atreides, Protective Duncan Idaho, Coughing, Sharing a Bed Summary:

“Thank you, Dr. Yueh”, came out in a small quiet raspy voice. Paul watched with tired eyes as the door to his bedroom closed after the Doctor's rushed retreat, … only if he had let it.

Instead, riding on the highs of his heated delusional thinking, he had stood on shaky legs to reach the door in time to prevent it from shutting all the way.

Once again he should have stayed where he was, in the comfort of his own chambers but he couldn’t.

With his health compromised, the possibility of having another vivid dream while he slept was inevitable.

He was vulnerable, the paranoia growing in the back of his mind told him so.

Therefore, he was going to push his already exhausted body to its limit in order to reach the one place where he felt the safest and most protected, Duncan Idaho’s chambers.