Steddie where Steve runs a small bakery with Robin, and Chrissy is one of their regular customers.
She stops by every morning to buy coffee and pastries before she goes to work, always buys a lot of extra goods for her friends too and flirts with Robin as she waits for her order.
Steve teases Robin every freaking day because her infatuated little grin is adorable, but as best friend it's Steve's job to give her shit about her crush.
This goes on for months, until one morning Chrissy shows up at the shop with a hot guy by her side and Steve bluescreens because, holy shit, that must be the hottest guy Steve's ever seen in his life.
But Steve doesn't even have a chance to greet them properly. As soon as the guy catches sight of Steve by the counter, he turns to Chrissy with these big, shocked eyes, betrayal all over his handsome face.
"Chrissy! I can't believe you hid this beautiful creature from me! I thought we were friends!!!"
Takes Steve a moment to realize he is the beautiful creature.
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unpopular opinion: My favorite Steddie trope is when Eddie has a crush on (in his mind) Straight Steve only for Steve to be like "Oh yeah, I've made out with dudes"
My favorite fic is probably when Eddie thinks he's playing Gay Chicken with Steve and Robin asks what will Steve do if Eddie kisses him and Steve says "Kiss him back. Duh." And reveals he's just been making out with dudes, but that's because everyone makes out with everyone. So Robin (and Eddie) tell him that he's bisexual and he's like "what's that?"
And in a later part, Chrissy says she prefers kissing girls over boys and then they have to explain that lesbians are a real thing.
in an alternate universe eddie and chrissy are reverse steve and robin where she has a crush on him but he’s gay and they become besties and also she is a repressed bisexual
"Maybe you should get these guys to do the music for your free program," Dustin says.
"Huh?" Steve's foam rolling his calves, attention all on his sore muscles.
"Corroded Coffin," Dustin practically yells over the music. "For your freestyle!"
"Yeah, right." Steve snorts. "Like they'd want to do music for a figure skater."
"Why not?"
Steve gives him a deadpan stare as heavy bass and drums vibrate his portable speaker.
"It's worth a try!"
"Is it?" Steve goes back to rolling his muscles.
The music stops. "I think so. You wanted something different, right?"
"Okay, one, skating's changed, but not that much. Two, why would they want to?"
"Uh, because you're trying to head back to the Olympics after--"
"So, they'd help me out of pity?"
Dustin rolls his eyes. "Uh, because it's a feel-good, heartwarming story?"
"Haven't noticed them really being a feel-good, heartwarming band."
"Which is why you need it."
"Dustin--"
"Steve, it's February! You're running out of time."
"Dustin--" He swallows back his anger, swipes a hand through his hair. He knows the kid is just trying to help. "I'll think about it, okay?"
"You better."
He excuses himself to the locker room, even though his day is just getting started. Corroded Coffin would be different. It would be fun. He would like it. And isn't the whole reason he came back to have fun? To like it?
Before he goes back to the weight room, he opens Instagram, sends a quick DM to Corroded Coffin's band account.
---
It's Eddie's turn to go through the DMs that Chrissy thinks are important. It's the usual interview requests and publicist reach outs and other verified accounts they don't know. There's one guy he doesn't even recognize, and he absolutely would remember him because this dude is gorgeous.
KingSteve317: You guys wouldn't happen to have any interest in helping a figure skater (me) with some competition music, would you?
He snorts hard enough to make himself cough.
CorrodedCoffin4u: No
And that's that. Or it should be. But he's still chuckling when Jeff, Gareth, and Freak walk into his living room.
"What's funny?" Jeff asks.
"Some figure skater asked us for music for...whatever they do."
"They figure skate, Eddie." Freak says. "Who was it?"
"Uhh, some guy?"
"Give me that." Gareth snatches the phone from his hand. "Some guy?"
"Yeah?"
"STEVE HARRINGTON dm's us and you call him some guy???"
Jeff and Freak start yelling, and his eyes dart between his irate bandmates, cause what the fuck is going on?
He uncurls from the couch, hopping onto the coffee table with a bang. "You can't be mad at me if I have no fucking clue who this guy is!"
"How can you not know?" Chrissy breezes in with a takeout tray of coffees.
"You know him?"
"Uh, duh. He was only, like, the biggest figure skater in the world."
"Didn't you look him up?" Freak asks.
"Literally, why would I do that?"
Gareth and Chrissy facepalm with matching groans.
"You can't seriously want to help him with music for his skater--thingy?"
"You're hopeless," Jeff says. Which Eddie thinks is very unfair. How's he supposed to know one random figure skater? This is not common knowledge, he refuses to believe it.
"Whatever." He hops off the coffee table. "We have real band business to discuss."
---
Eddie's probably cursed, is the thing. He hasn't stopped thinking about stupid figure skating Steve Harrington since he read that dm.
And he can't sleep, insomnia his only repeat nightly visitor, and all the lyrics he's written in the notebook beside him are garbage, so it's not like it's really his fault when he grabs his phone and opens Harrington's Instagram.
He's beautiful, there's no denying it. Like, Eddie has eyes. The shirtless pics alone are enough to leave him panting like some horny cartoon character. But he can't compromise his integrity for a piece of ass, even a perfect one.
He watches Steve on the ice, spinning and jumping. Steve lifting weights in a sweaty tank top that reveals just enough chest hair to make Eddie forget how to think. Steve with his friends. Steve coaching a group of delightfully mouthy teenagers. And sometimes, sometimes, he'll be in what looks like a hotel room, in bed, and his hair is soft around his forehead and he wears these round tortoiseshell glasses, and it activate something deep in Eddie's brain that wants to claim.
It's 4am when he Googles. When he learns that Steve Harrington was the gold medal favorite at the last Olympics. He was sixteen and a prodigy and untouchable, with an attitude to match. He was sixteen, at the Olympics, talking shit and swaggering through interviews. He was sixteen when he performed his short program and fell on every jump. He was sixteen when he didn't even make the podium, not even close, finishing 15th.
When the games were over, he disappeared. Social media dormant, interviews non-existent. He never retired but the figure skating world assumed he was done. Until he resurfaced a year ago.
Steve did a couple of interviews, and he's fully a different person. Calm, poised, quietly confident. Everyone asks about the Olympics, that short program, and he talks about feeling like he had something to prove, the pressure, and right when he stepped out on the ice, right when it mattered most, he buckled.
And it's 5am, right? Eddie hasn't slept, but he opens the band's Instagram and finds the conversation with Steve.
CorrodedCoffin4u: You still want to use our music?
He's not expecting an answer, it's early, but his phone vibrates almost instantly.
KingStever317: Not anymore
He barks a laugh, starts typing.
CorrodedCoffin4u: I'm sorry about before
KingSteve317: Oh, now an apology. Do you talk to all your fans like that?
He can't help but grin. Steve Harrington is really something.
CorrodedCoffin4u: Depends on how nicely they ask
CorrodedCoffin4u: I shouldn't have been a dick before. But we'd like to help
KingSteve317: So, you Googled me and this is pity?
"Ugh, fuck." Eddie buries his face in his hands.
CorrodedCoffin4u: Not pity. Thought more about it, seems cool.
KingSteve317: You're a real asshole, you know?
CorrodedCoffin4u: So I've been told
KingSteve317: You're in LA? I'll be in town next week. Let me know when we can meet up
His sigh of relief is so hard that it makes his bangs flutter.
---
"Oh my god, stop fidgeting." Robin swats at his hands as he tugs at the hem of his polo.
"I'm rethinking the shirt."
"Too late, bud. I told you not to wear it."
"I wanted to look pro--"
"Do not say professional to me right now, you are a figure skater."
"So, I can't look professional?"
"To meet a heavy metal band?"
"For business!"
She mutters something under her breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." She grins. "You look very handsome."
"Shut-up," he sighs. He tugs at his shirt and she smacks his hands again.
"Steve Harrington, right on time," a voice calls and his attention pops towards the sounds.
Striding towards them is none other than Eddie Munson and Steve honest-to-god stops breathing. He's so--well. Breathtaking. Steve thinks about simply passing out at the proximity, but Eddie reaches to shake hands and his muscle memory takes over. He says words that he won't ever remember, and then Eddie is ushering them into the band's practice space.
Eddie introduces them to the rest of Corroded Coffin, and they make small talk, and it's all easy. As comfortable as meeting the biggest band in the world could be. Sometimes his gaze will fall on Eddie, and their eyes will meet and Eddie will smile, and then Steve will smile, and the conversation stumbles to a halt, and Steve can't even be embarrassed. Not when Eddie grins like that, not when those molasses dark eyes sparkle like that.
Eventually, though, the Corroded guys stand and head over to where their gear is setup. Eddie slips the guitar strap across his chest, messes with the frets, fingers fiddling with the strings. It's the first time he's seemed nervous, but then, that's ridiculous. Who is Steve to make a guy who sells out stadiums across the world nervous?
"Okay, so." Eddie licks his lips, taps a fingernail against the guitar's body. "We just sort of whipped this one up. It's totally cool if you had something else in mind, but--"
"Eddie, start the song," Freak complains from behind the drums.
He starts playing but the others don't join in. It's only him and his guitar and his voice, raspy and uncharacteristically soft. The rest come in, slow, one at a time, the song building, and he's transfixed. The lyrics grab him I know you want me to be perfect; I can't be perfect all the time; and when will the best I can do be enough for you and will you still be here when I can't perform; when the spotlight's gone?
It doesn't start out as a typical Corroded Coffin song, but at the half-way point, Eddie screams it to life. It's hard, fast, demanding, sure of itself. Robin keeps nudging him, but he's lost in it, goosebumps rising on his neck.
The song ends and he's out of his seat. "That's it, that's perfect." He can hardly stand still, has the unhinged impulse to throw himself into Eddie's arms and vomit every feeling he's ever had onto a rock band he barely knows.
It shouldn't be this easy. Shouldn't be this perfect. And yet--
He and Robin walk back into the still bright sun, and he can only look at her and smile, shake his head. There aren't enough words.
---
Corroded Coffin records the song and sends it to Steve. He, in turn, sends them videos of him practicing. Eddie can't stop watching them, the way Steve and his team translate the song he wrote into movement.
He also can't stop thinking about Steve, or watching his Instagram. He posts trainings and workouts, of course, but there's a bunch of him goofing off with Robin and those kids he coaches. They're silly and funny and, throughout it all, Steve is happy and free and so, so beautiful.
Life goes on, writing music, working in the studio, and then he gets a text from a number he doesn't know, a link to tickets to some figure skating competition called the Cranberry Cup and a message reading, "will you come?"
This can only be one person, and his heart is beating out of his chest. "Wouldn't miss it for the world" he responds.
The typing bubbles pop up and disappear, pop up and disappear, and then a new message, "I really want to see you. If that's okay"
"More than okay, sweetheart," he responds. He resists the impulse to scream into the pillow next to him. It can't be real life that Steve wants him just as bad. It can't be real life that Eddie wants to hangup his rockstar lifestyle for a figure skater.
He's late, the day of the event, and it kills him to miss wishing Steve good luck in person, to miss the short programs. But he's ready and seated--to much fanfare and delight from the crowd--when it comes time for the free skates.
As soon as Steve hits the ice, Eddie stops breathing. He's seen the program before, the costume, but it's totally different in real life, has him pressing his knuckles to his lips to not shout something embarrassing at the guy he's head over heels for.
The music starts and the crowd mutes, like someone hit a button. They all watch Steve skate, spin, twirl, hit a triple axle triple toe combo, hypnotized. The song builds and the crowd's energy with it. Everyone is clapping to the beat, cheering, something electric building between them and Steve. It's wild, euphoric, and Eddie is so, so in love.
Steve comes in second, but that doesn't seem to register. He won in everyone's hearts.
It takes a while for Eddie to make his way down to the main concourse, and he should've known that the song would cause an uproar. He's stopping for pictures when he gets a text from Steve, "will be with media for a while. Find me after?" And he should have anticipated that too.
Finally, though, finally, he reaches the empty locker room, pushes open the door, and there's Steve, hair wet from a shower, shirt half-unbuttoned, and he's rushing towards Eddie.
It's nothing to wrap Steve in his arms, sweep him up tight. Murmur, "you were amazing out there," into the strands of his clean hair.
"I'm so glad you could make it." Steve's hands clutch into the black fabric of Eddie's sweater.
"I'm so sorry I was late. I wanted to--"
Steve laughs. "Why are you apologizing? You're here now."
"I wanted to see you." The simplest answer in the world.
"Eddie," Steve says, voice ragged.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
And Steve's looking at him with those eyes, big and doe-wide and beautiful. Without thought, his hand slips into Steve's chestnut hair, and he brings their mouths together. It's sweet and desperate and Eddie is certain he could die a blissful death right here, with the taste of Steve Harrington on his lips.
Steve breaks the kiss slow, pressing their foreheads together.
"Eddie, I can't." Steve says between panted breaths. "I've gotta focus on training, the Olympics....nationals are only a few months away, and I can't--"
"I know, I know." Eddie doesn't let him go on. "Can I wait for you? I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, and--can I, Steve? Wait? I will. For as long as you'll have me."
"I can't ask--"
"You wouldn't have to. I'm yours, sweetheart. Have been since I answered your dm."
Steve grins, bashful, delighted. "You're such an asshole."
"I know," Eddie smiles back.
"I'll understand if you can't--it's a lot to ask someone to wait for, this life."
Summary: Loving Billy Hargrove meant surviving the fights, the passion, and the lies. But betrayal cuts deeper than bruises, and what comes out later might destroy you both.
*sorry, it’s been so long since my last stranger things fic—but i’m back now.
@keeryhours thank you so much for talking with me about this, ily!
Being with Billy isn’t easy— he’s wanted by everyone, the hottest thing around and you’re just you. To everyone’s surprise you and billy had been together two years and those two years weren’t always fun, but you love him.
Things seemed to get better until two weeks ago — you were at his house and discovered a bra that didn’t belong to you. It wasn’t there before, because you had helped him clean his room.
“What is this?” You ask, holding the bra up by the strap on your finger.
“What’s what?” Billy asks, not paying attention and fiddling with his belt buckle.
He finally looks up to see the black, lacey bra and his skin goes pale.
“Who’s fucking bra is this?” You ask, voice getting shaky and heat filling your body.
Billy sighs, opening his cigarettes and placing one in the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t start.”
You scoff, mouth agape.
“Don’t start..”
“That’s all you can say to me, your girlfriend of two years?”
He lights his cigarette and walks over to you, yanking the bra from your finger.
You slide on your sneakers, tears falling onto the carpet. You start grabbing your stuff so that you can leave.
He sits back on the bed smoking his cigarette and trying to avoid looking at you.
“Stop crying.” He says curtly.
“You’re such a fucking asshole! Is it hers?” You shout, eyes red and pain in your voice.
Billy puts out his cigarette and doesn’t respond.
You grab the beer bottle off of his dresser and toss it at his head, glass shattering against the wall.
Billy stands up, walking over to you—visibly angry. He grabs your arms with a tight grip, staring into your eyes.
“I don’t want this anymore. I’ve tried showing you and telling you, but you just didn’t get the hint.”
You yank away, wiping your tears, and storm out of the room— slamming the door behind you.
That was a little over a month ago and you’ve been trying to get him out of your head ever since.
You didn’t go to school for a week because you were sick as a dog—fever, chills, nausea and fatigue. It was a rough week, but luckily you’ve bounced back.
You’re going back to school today, hoping that you didn’t miss out on too much. Steve picks you up, talking your ear off about Nancy and Jonathan being together. He swears that he doesn’t care, but it’s not even close to believable.
Steve’s car pulls up in the parking lot, barreling into a space— almost hitting another car.
“Christ, Steve!” You shout, pressing your imaginary break.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to go that fast.”
After the mini heart attack is over, you grab your bag and get out of the car. You start walking towards the school, leaving steve behind.
Robin runs up to you, smiling and waving.
“Hey, you. It’s nice to see you back here, I was worried something happened.”
You let out a dry chuckle.
“Something did happen, I got sick.”
Robin jokingly rolls her eyes and walks past you.
“I saw Billy—“
“Stop. I don’t want to hear about him and I don’t care.” You reply curtly, cutting Robin off mid sentence.
You start walking ahead of Robin and you’re instantly annoyed, you’ve told them multiple times since the breakup that you weren’t interested in hearing about Billy or his antics— but apparently they can’t help themselves.
“Nice one, Robin.” Steve mutters behind you, nudging Robin.
Robin throws her hands up in defeat, letting out a sigh.
“I was just trying to warn her, before she went inside.”
Steve stops in his tracks, mid chew of his granola bar.
“Warn her about what?”
You walk through the doors of the school, down the hallway and to your locker. The day has been normal so far, but there’s more people than usual in the hallway.
You brush it off opening your locker, grabbing your bottle of perfume to spray on. While you do that, your attention is grabbed by a bunch of commotion— it’s the jocks and cheerleaders coming down the hallway.
You see Billy in the group— laughing and smiling. His arm is around Chrissy and she seems happier than ever.
Your stomach flips like you were kicked in it.
How could he be so happy with her? Move on so fast like you didn’t matter? How could he do any of this?
Billy sees you and winks at you, making you frown.
You throw your perfume back in your locker and rush to class. You’re one of the first people in class, taking your seat in the back corner—hoping to stay away from him.
As time for the bell to ring inches closer, the rest of the class pours in and takes their seats. Right as the bell rings, Billy and Chrissy stroll in— Chrissy sitting in the front near her friends and He takes the seat next to you in the back.
You shift in your seat, trying to hide any emotion that might come to the surface.
To your surprise he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge you.
The class continues and Billy glances over at you a few times— trying to see what you’re writing, your facial expressions, and just studying you instead of his own work.
After a while the bell rings for class to end— you grab your stuff and head to the door, trying to get out as fast as possible.
More classes happen, lunch passes and then the bell for the end of the day rings. All you can think about is seeing his arm around Chrissy, how easy it was for him to break your heart.
Today, you’re walking home— Steve has somewhere to be and you don’t mind a walk.
You go to the bathroom before heading out of the school, Chrissy and all of her friends are in there.
They giggle at the sight of you and whisper.
You pay them no mind and rush to get out of there.
“Sorry, you had to find out about me and Billy the way you did.” Chrissy giggles, standing near the sink.
You dry your hands and don’t respond, ultimately you don’t have much to say.
“It’s a shame really, Billy hadn’t ever been sexually satisfied until he met me.”
They snicker some more, but you push your anger aside and walk out of the bathroom without saying anything.
Billy is standing right next to the door waiting on Chrissy, you bump into him on your way out. He notices the look on your face and grabs your arm, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” You mutter, yanking away.
He stands there confused, but also coming to the realization that Chrissy must’ve said something to you.
He waits a little longer for them to come out, his hand on his hip.
Chrissy and her friends come strolling out of the bathroom after what feels like forever, Billy grabs Chrissy and pulls her to the side while the girls keep walking.
“Can you stop? Things are messy enough as is, I don’t need you messing with her and being rude.”
Chrissy stares at him in disbelief, pulling her arm away.
“Do you still care about her?”
Billy takes a deep breath and rubs his hand over his mouth.
“What are you talking about? Seriously, don’t start this shit.”
Her eyes start to water as she holds back tears, meanwhile Billy is very annoyed and couldn’t care less about her crying.
He grabs his keys out of his pocket, “are you ready to go?”
She adjusts the backpack on her shoulders and wipes a tear that was falling down her cheek, “are you going to answer my question?”
Billy lets out a chuckle, putting a cigarette in his mouth.
“Fuck this, ride home with the girls and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He walks away—boots stomping the ground, and keys twirling around his finger.
Chrissy walks out the other set of doors down the hall, trying to catch up with her friends
You’re almost home, your walk doesn’t normally take long— but today you’re taking your time. Enjoying the sun beaming on your skin, looking at leftover Christmas decorations and the pieces of ice that were still melting from the snow.
You get home and you’re home by yourself, your parents are still at work. Despite your loving relationship with them, you love the days when you’re at home alone.
Once inside the house—you kick your shoes off by the door and head upstairs to take a shower.
You turn the water on to the shower, stepping in and just standing there for a minute as the water falls down your body.
Unfortunately, even though showering is supposed to be your moment of peace— all you can think about is Billy with Chrissy. What does she have that you don’t? Does she make him happy the way you once did?
After a while in the shower and just wasting water, you get out and dry yourself off. You throw on one of Billy’s t-shirts and pull the covers back on your bed to lay down, but the doorbell rings.
You hesitate, not knowing who it could be and also not caring— but the person starts knocking at the door. You run downstairs, opening the door to see who’s there and it’s Billy.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask with a scowl on your face.
Billy glances you over, making note of you having his shirt on.
“Has Chrissy been bothering you—“
“No.” You reply curtly with no hesitation.
“You don’t have to lie to me, doll. I just want to hear it from you.”
You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.
“Billy, I’m fine. So, if you came over here for that then you wasted your time.”
He lets out a dry chuckle.
“You’ve never been a good liar.”
His remark makes your body feel warm. He knows you like the back of his hand and despite how much you love him, you hate it.
“Look, I’m fine and there’s nothing to worry about. I stay out of your way and hers. It wouldn’t matter anyway even if she was, because you’d never leave her for it.”
Billy pauses for a second, puts his hands in his pockets and gives you a quick nod before turning away—walking back to his car. You watch him, but quickly shut the door before he sees you staring.
You’re not really sure what to make of the interaction with him, that’s the most you two have said to each other since the breakup. It was definitely a surprise to see him on your front steps asking about how Chrissy treats you.
You make your way back upstairs and lay in your bed, before you can even think more on what just happened— the phone on your nightstand is ringing.
You pick it up thinking it’s your parents calling to tell you something.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Steve.”
“Oh, hey.”
In your mind you can’t help but laugh, something must be in the air because Steve almost never calls you. Today is the day of firsts.
“Sorry, I couldn’t bring you home today— I’ll be able to tomorrow though.”
“It’s really no problem, Steve— like I told you yesterday.”
“Well, Uh—how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine—“
“Steve, is everything okay? You practically never call and small talk doesn’t suit you.” You ask with an awkward chuckle.
The line is silent for a bit, almost like he’s struggling with what he wants to say next.
“Okay, you got me. I just called to see how you were doing with the whole Billy situation. Especially since he and Chrissy are fully public.”
You twirl the cord around your finger and stare at the ceiling.
“I’m fine, really. I stay away from them and don’t care about what they’re doing.”
Saying that out loud seems fine on paper, but it isn’t true— so far from true.
In reality you still cry yourself to sleep over it some nights, but you’re not going to tell him that.
“You know that you can always talk to me? Or anyone in the group, right?”
You sigh, sitting up on your bed.
“Yes, I know that I can Steve— but I’m fine and I’d prefer you guys not to bring him up every fifteen seconds and treat me like a fragile baby.”
Steve coughs into the phone, trying to play off his slight embarrassment.
“Yeah, no totally— I get it…”
“I have to go, but I’ll pick you up at 7?”
“Okay, see you tomorrow. Please don’t make us late again, Steve:”
“I won’t.”
The line disconnects and you place the phone back on the receiver— laying back down on the bed.
Billy drives home in complete silence, his thoughts swarming his mind. His breakup with you wasn’t his finest moment and maybe some part of him regrets it, but he does care for Chrissy.
His thoughts of you stop when he sees Chrissy’s car in the driveway.
“What the hell is she doing here?” He mumbles to himself as he parks his car.
He takes a deep breath as gets out of the car and walks to the front door. He walks in to see Chrissy helping Max.
“I promise once you get the hang of Algebra you’ll be able to pass any math class.” Chrissy points out.
They both look up from the homework and at Billy when he walks in.
“What’s this? Why are you here?” He asks, pointing at both of them—but mainly Chrissy.
“Umm.. I’m helping max with her algebra.”
Billy raises his brow and sets his keys on the table before walking back to his room.
He gets into his room and shuts the door. He starts to undress and change into a tank top with basketball shorts.
Chrissy knocks on the door and comes in.
“Hey, babe.”
“You can’t be here much longer, not sure when Neil will be back and the last thing I want to hear is his mouth.”
Chrissy listens, but doesn’t respond— she’s too busy staring at everything in Billy’s room.
She walks up to Billy and kisses him, catching him off guard. It takes him a second to process, but he kisses her back— his hand wrapped around her waist.
Before they get too caught up in the kissing, Max walks in.
“Billy—“
“Fucking knock next time, Max!”
Max rolls her eyes.
“We’ll be home alone tonight, they just called and said that they’d be back in the morning.”
Billy and Chrissy quickly glance at each other, before Billy makes a shooing motion at max.
Max slams the door behind her.
“Asshole.”
Chrissy’s hands trail Billy's chest and she bites her lip.
“No parents, means I could stay the night—“
“If you want me to, of course.”
Billy slides his hands down and grips her ass.
“If you want to, it doesn't matter to me.”
They start kissing again, even heavier this time. Billy picks Chrissy up and lays her on the bed as he’s in between her legs.
His kisses trailing her face and neck, making a slow descent.
“You make me so fucking weak.” He groans in between kisses.
She runs her fingers through his hair, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He lifts up her top, exposing her lacy blue bra— giving her breasts a squeeze before continuing down her body.
She grabs his shirt and pulls him up towards her, bringing his face to hers.
“I don’t want to wait.”
He grins, his bulge in his shorts rubbing against her crotch.
“So needy for me.”
He pulls her skirt up, just enough to see her matching blue panties. Chrissy’s already soaked through her panties for him. He runs his finger down the wet spot in the middle, teasing her.
She leans up—helping pull his shorts and boxers down.
His cock is rock hard, veins vibrant and his tip is flushed red with precum dripping.
Pulling her panties to the side, he rubs his head through her folds— causing her to let out a whimper and arch her back.
He lines himself up, ready to push himself in.
“Wait!” Chrissy shouts, putting her hand against Billy’s chest.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Billy.. we don’t have a condom.”
“We should be fine, we’ve basically never used one.” He points out.
“Yeah.. yeah, you’re right.”
Billy adjusts again, kissing her and lining himself up. He’s about to push himself in, but he stops.
“You know what, turn around for me.”
Chrissy is a bit confused at first, but she gets up and gets on all fours.
Billy pushes her skirt up further and pulls her panties down, wasting no time—he lines himself up and pushes the head in.
Throwing his head back in bliss and Chrissy’s hands gripping the sheets.
Despite him having the view that most guys at school would kill to see, he wasn’t enjoying it as much as he wants to.
The memories of you ravage his mind, making it impossible for him to even look Chrissy in the eyes during sex.
You’re at home— tossing and turning in the bed, hoping for some form of peace. Despite the house being quiet, your mind hasn’t stopped racing. It’s almost like your own form of torture, constantly thinking about the man who wronged you.
The thought comes across your mind to call Robin to get your mind off of things.
You pick up the phone, dialing her number— but it rings and rings, with no answer.
Your parents still aren’t home yet and you don’t really care to be awake and talk to them when they do get home. You go into your bathroom and take two sleep aid pills, chugging water behind them.
You get back into the bed, wrapping yourself in the covers and dozing off.
The alarm starts going off, it’s 7am. You slept the entire rest of the afternoon and all throughout the night.
You rush out of bed— taking a quick shower, throwing on a band tee and sweats, eating two muffins, and waiting by the door for Steve.
Steve’s car pulls into the driveway at 7:40, same time as it does everyday.
You lock up the house and walk to his car, opening the door and throwing your backpack in.
“I see it’s a sweats kind of day.” Steve points out, fingers tracing the steering wheel.
“It definitely is.” You reply.
The drive to school is quiet, you’re not saying much and neither is Steve. You just stare out of the window as the sun brightens and watch the trees disappear in the distance.
“Any plans for the weekend?” Steve asks, breaking the silence.
You snap out of your daydreaming.
“No, I’m just going to be at home.”
Steve scoffs.
“Oh, come on.”
“What?”
“I mean, are you seriously just going to let this billy situation ruin the year for you?”
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore what he just said.
Silence fills the car again, not because you don’t have anything to say— you’re just done with the conversation.
“I’m only saying it as a friend, that’s all. We know that you care about him, but anyone who would cheat on you and then sleep with your bully isn’t worth it.” Steve points out.
“She’s not my fucking bully. She just happens to be Billy’s girlfriend, that’s all. I get that you guys care, but I’m sick of everyone acting like I can’t be fucking sad.”
Steve pulls into the school parking lot and parks his car.
“I’m not saying that—“
In the middle of him talking you take off your seatbelt, grab your backpack, and open the door to get out.
“Thanks for the ride. I’ll walk home today.” You reply, shutting the car door.
Steve lets out a sigh and rests his head against the steering wheel in defeat, that conversation went poorly and he knows that he just pissed you off.
Before you walk into the school, you walk over to the grass behind the student parking lot. Your stomach is in knots and the urge to throw up is rising to the top.
You place your hand against the light pole beside you for balance and bend over, everything you ate spilling out.
It just keeps coming and coming, feeling never ending.
Finally a few minutes later, you raise up and take a deep breath—wiping your mouth. You’re not even sure why you’re throwing up, but you’re already ready to go home.
The bell rings right as you walk into the classroom—today, you’re the only one walking in at the last minute.
You take your seat and pull out your book for class, but you’re struggling. You now feel like death warmed up and the feeling like you’re going to throw up again is gnawing at you.
Billy glances over at you and he can tell that something is wrong.
“Are you okay?”
You just wave him off, too sick to speak.
All you can think of is getting home to rest and wanting to feel better.
The bell rings and everyone rushes out. Billy sticks around, trying to see if you’re okay—but Chrissy comes over distracting him.
“Babe, let’s go.” Chrissy grins, grabbing his arm.
“I’m waiting to see if she needs help.” He points out.
Chrissy frowns.
“Why would it matter if she did? You’re not her boyfriend.”
You slowly get up from the desk and grab your backpack, walking to the door.
“Babe, come on!”
Billy’s eyes follow you all the way from your seat to the door, he sees how badly you’re struggling.
He pulls his arm away from Chrissy and walks over to you, placing his arm around your lower back.
“I’m going to take you home.”
“I’m fine.” You groan, not even caring that Billy is touching you.
“No, you’re not.”
Chrissy stands in the classroom in disbelief, Billy really left her side to help you. She fights back tears as she heads to her new class.
He helps you down the hallway and to the parking lot of his car, helping you get in and buckling you up.
He starts driving you to your house, playing some Def Leopard to keep things from being awkward— like, you even cared at this point.
You stare out of the window, feeling like you’re going to throw up again.
“Billy.. I need to throw up.” You mumble.
He looks over at you, panic written all over his face.
“Not in the car, baby. I’m almost at your house.”
He races to get you home, praying that you don’t throw up in his car.
“Billy..”
“I know, baby. I’m pulling in the driveway now.”
He pulls into your driveway, puts the car in park and rushes out of the car to your side—opening the door.
As soon as he opens the door, you throw up on the ground— just barely missing his boots.
“Come on, let me help you in.” He grunts, picking you up. He closes the car door with his foot. You hand him your keys to unlock the door.
Billy gets you inside and carries you up the stairs like you weigh nothing.
He sits you down on the bed, staring at your room like it’s his first time being in there.
“I feel fucking awful.” You groan.
“I can tell. What happened?”
You shrug your shoulders and start undressing, Billy turns his head.
“Well, I’m going to head back to school.”
“Can you stay?” You mumble, throwing your shirt on the ground.
Billy turns around with a shocked look on his face, “you want me to stay?”
“I would like that, but I don’t want to cause problems between you and Chrissy.”
He walks over to help you up.
“Chrissy will be fine.”
You walk to the bathroom, “I’m gonna take a bath.”
He takes his shoes off and leaves them by your door, walking over to your bed as you run your bath water.
Your room is the last place he thought he’d be on a Friday morning, but here he is.
“You can come in here, if you want—I’m in the water.” You shout from the bathroom.
Billy comes in, sees you submerged in bubbles. He leans against the bathroom counter, staring at you as you soak.
“Why’d you stay?” You ask weakly, eyes closed and trying to ease the nausea.
“You asked.”
“If only it were that simple, it never is with you.” You reply.
“It is, I still love you.” He admits, biting his lip.
“I bet you do.” You smirk, slowly dragging the washcloth across your body.
“I do and you know it.”
“Well, then leave Chrissy.”
He gets silent, just stares at you. The silence lasts until you’re finished washing yourself.
You stand up, the water falling off of you and step onto your black rug— wrapping a burgundy towel around your body. You lean over into the tub, pulling the stopper so the water can drain and walk back into your room— Billy following behind you.
He still hasn’t said anything since you asked him to leave Chrissy.
“I appreciate you helping me, I really do— but I’m going to lay down and I don’t want to keep you here or upset Chrissy.”
You drop your towel and throw on an oversized t-shirt.
Billy lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair.
“I don’t want to go.”
You sit on the bed, confused and trying to understand the situation.
“I can’t do this with you, Billy. I deserve better.”
“You do—“
“But I love you and I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t.”
You look up at him as he inches closer to you.
“Billy.. just go. I can’t do the back and forth with you.”
He stands in front of you, towering over you with a gentle look.
“Are you really gonna make me beg?”
“The shit with Chrissy is a mistake and I’ll be the first to admit it. I don’t know why I did it, but I want you. You bring a light to my life that I hadn’t seen in years— you are everything to me.”
Your eyes start to water hearing Billy’s words, it’s like the Billy you met two years ago.
He sits on the bed beside you, pulling you closer to him.
You sit there, laying your head on his shoulder and taking in his scent— a feeling that you have craved for weeks.
You stand up, signaling for him to stand up and you climb into the bed and under the covers. Billy joins you after stripping out of his shirt and down to his boxers.
You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and your finger tracing his abs.
“I’ll end things with Chrissy tonight.” Billy reassures you and places a kiss on your forehead.
“We’ll see about that.” You joke.
You start drifting off and fall asleep against his chest, feeling right at home.
You wake up and it’s dark out, your lamp is on with no sign of Billy. His shoes and clothes are gone, but there’s a note on the nightstand.
“Had to get home before Neil flips, love you—B”
A smile tugs at your lips as you sit the note back down.
You turn the light off and head back to bed.
You wake up to your room being dark still— it’s raining and thundering this morning. You love the rain and the cozy feeling that comes with it.
Somehow, you’d managed to sleep in— it’s 11am. You don’t have any plans today, just wondering when you’ll hear from Billy.
Instead of laying in the bed all day, you decide to be productive— you take a hot shower, change your bedding, vacuum, make muffins and finally light a candle to finish things off. You have more energy now that you don’t feel like shit.
The rain has picked up, so you go over to the window seat with your book and sit down to read. Reading is one of your favorite pastimes and this book was one that Steve got you a few months ago, you just never had time to read it.
Hours pass by and no word from Billy, which is shocking considering how he was just yesterday. Your mind races wondering what’s going on, but you know that he wouldn’t lie to like that— you just decide to wait.
Nighttime comes and still no word, you go over to your phone and dial his number.
It rings and rings, finally someone picks up.
“Hello?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Max, is Billy there?”
“Um, no. He left a few hours ago and he didn’t say where he was going.”
“Okay, I was just worried.”
“Mhmm.”
The line disconnects.
You try to push your thoughts aside and just continue reading. You haven’t heard anything from Billy and it’s been over twenty four hours. You just relax and go to bed thinking that you’ll hear from him tomorrow.
Sunday rolls around and still nothing. Not a call, voicemail or anything— just silence.
Maybe, Billy did lie to you and had no intention of leaving Chrissy. Your heart is broken all over again, crying over something that would never work.
You don’t do anything, but lay in bed— unable to take your mind off of him.
The weekend is over and Monday morning has rolled around.
You pull yourself out of bed, right as your alarm is going off. Feeling nauseous once again, a fantastic way to start the day.
You take a quick shower, brush your teeth, and put on a t-shirt with some black sweats.
Steve honks the horn twice, letting you know that he’s outside.
You rush outside and get into the car with a very chipper Steve who’s going on a rant about nothing.
“Billy came over Friday and we talked..” you blurt out.
Steve gets quiet, turns down the radio, and tries to process what you said.
“Oh? How did that go?”
“It was fine, surprisingly. He apologized and told me that he loved me— that he wanted to end things with Chrissy.”
Steve’s jaw drops.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, is that what you want?”
You shrug your shoulders, looking down and fidgeting with the strings of your sweatpants.
“I do, but I don’t want to get hurt again.”
Steve nods his head, turning on his signal to turn at the stoplight.
“That’s fair, no one wants to get hurt.”
“How did the rest of the weekend go?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes.
“He left Friday afternoon, said that he’d break things off with Chrissy and I haven’t heard from him since.”
Steve’s eyes widen and you can hear him holding his breath.
“That could mean anything though? Maybe.. maybe he’s been busy.”
The car pulls into a parking space and your eyes scan the parking lot for Billy’s Camaro, but no sign of it.
“Yeah, it could mean anything.” You reply with zero confidence.
You get out of the car, leaving Steve behind and walking into the school.
A quick stop at your locker to grab your notebook and then you walk straight to class. You’re the first person inside the classroom, but soon after everyone runs in before the bell rings.
Chrissy’s seat is empty, so is Billy’s.
The bell rings and class begins, you can’t focus on what’s being said— because now you’re truly starting to worry. There’s no way Neil would just let Billy miss school.
20 minutes into class, Billy and Chrissy waltz in.
Your stomach drops and you can’t hide the disappointed look on your face.
“Mr. Hargrove and Mrs.Cunningham, do you have late slips?” Mr. Thorton strongly asks.
Billy hands both of them to him as they make their way to their seats.
You can’t help but notice that Billy looks tired, he doesn’t look like himself. Even though you can’t help but wonder why he didn’t talk to you all weekend, your heart is broken seeing him walk in with her.
He sits down in his chair beside you, but he’s nervous— biting his nails.
“Can I talk to you after class?” He leans over and whispers.
You refuse to even make eye contact with him.
“Please, I want to talk to you.”
You chuckle, surprised at his audacity.
Class continues on for another twenty minutes and then the bell rings.
You rush out of the classroom before Billy can stop you and make your way outside to the parking lot. The wind picks up as you as you walk through the parked cars.
The sound of boots hitting gravel creeps up on you.
“Please, stop so we can talk.” He pleads.
You turn around, annoyed with whatever excuse he’s going to give you.
“What do you want, Billy? I haven’t heard anything from you all weekend.”
He takes a deep breath, like he’s bracing for impact.
“I know and I’m sorry, I got busy and there was a lot going on.”
You cross your arms in front of you, “must’ve been busy with Chrissy.”
“Did you break up with her?”
“No.” He replies curtly.
“Wow, at least I know how you really feel.”
You walk away, your blood boiling.
“I tried to break up with her, but I can’t..”
“She’s pregnant.”
You stop dead in your tracks, tears falling down your face out of pure shock.
“What? What did you say?”
You turn around to face him, tears still falling down your cheeks and your fists clenched.
“We weren’t safe and she got pregnant.. I’m so sorry that this happened.”
“You fucking asshole! I can’t believe you.. I just can’t.” You sob.
It’s almost like the air has been torn from your lungs, this was the last thing you expected.
He walks closer to you, trying to console you— but you keep walking backwards with your hands up in defeat.
“Please.. don’t come near me.”
“How could you?” You cry, the words barely escaping due to your heavy breathing and sobs.
“I wasn’t thinking, I—“
“I never wanted this to be the case, you’ve gotta understand that. I love you so much.”
“I hate you.” you mutter.
“You don’t mean that.”
He rubs his hand over his face and lets out a sigh.
“There’s something else… Neil—“
“Neil is making us get married.”
His words hung in the air like you’d heard a gunshot. A baby and getting married? This can’t be real life.
You’re speechless, genuinely speechless for the first time in your life. The boy you’ve loved for over two years, has completely flipped your world upside down.
You start walking away, trying to gather your thoughts and breathe— leaving Billy by himself in the parking lot.
“Please, say something.. please.” He pleads.
You keep walking as if you didn’t hear him.
The walk home is pretty quick compared to how long it normally takes. You’re so trapped in your own thoughts that you don’t even remember much of the walk— just that you somehow got home.
You get inside, rushing upstairs to your room.
This room feels too small to contain your thoughts and anger— you knock everything off of your desk on the ground, letting out a scream.
You curl into a ball on your bed and you just cry, that’s all you can do.
The time escapes your mind, you’ve laid on the bed for several hours before you even realize it. You force yourself to get up and go downstairs to grab something to eat.
Your mom stands at the kitchen counter reading the newspaper, your step-dad sitting in his recliner.
“Honey, are you okay?” Your mom asks after noticing your red eyes.
“I’m.. okay.” You mumble, barely able to let those words leave your mouth.
She puts down the newspaper, pushes her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and walks over to you.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been crying.”
You glance at her through the tears, “Billy got Chrissy pregnant.”
She sighs, walks over to you and pulls you into a tight hug.
“Oh, sweet girl. Don’t cry over him—“
“I know it hurts right now, but the sting won’t last forever.”
Your tears wet her shirt, but she just stands there— holding you and letting you cry.
Friday rolls around and you’re missing school for your doctor's appointment. You have to get some labs done to get on the pill again, just something routine.
You hate going to the doctor— it’s always so sterile, grim, and scary.
You sit in the waiting room— watching the tv on the wall, when your name is called.
You walk back to the room and the nurse asks you the standard questions.
“How old are you?”
“18.”
“Sexually active?”
“Yes.”
“Will you need a std panel?”
“No.. I should be fine.”
“Date of your last period?”
The question hit you like a truck, when was your last period? It’s always on time— yet, somehow you can’t remember if you’ve had one since December.
“Uh.. uh, I don’t remember.” You mutter.
“Okay, that’s fine. We’ll give you a pregnancy test here.” The nurse smiles.
Your heart sank to your stomach— could you actually be pregnant? I mean, it would explain the nausea, tiredness, fatigue, and sore boobs. You haven’t even gained weight, you’ve been losing it— but you just figured it was stress.
The nurse comes back to you with the cup and directs you to the bathroom.
You get in the bathroom and have to force yourself to take deep breaths, the cup shaking in your hand. You squat over the cup and pee, filling it to the line. The nurse is waiting outside the door with gloves on, ready to take the cup.
“Your results will be back in 10-15 minutes.”
You go back into the room, unable to sit still on the table and biting your nails.
The ten minutes feels like an eternity, before she knocks at the door again. She looks over her clipboard and fills a few things out on the paper, before addressing you.
“Congratulations, looks like you’re going to be a mom. You’re farther along than we expected, seems like you’re about 12 weeks. We will do a panel to be sure.”
Your blood ran ice cold and everything after congratulations sounded muffled.
You’re pregnant by Billy, the same Billy who’s expecting a baby with Chrissy and is getting married tomorrow.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” She asks, grabbing your arm and bringing you out of your daze.
“Uh huh, I’m fine.”
“I just wanted to check. Since you’re farther along, you can see your baby today— would you like to?”
You’re still grappling with the news, but you nod.
She has you lay back on the table and brings the machine over to you. You raise your shirt, waiting on the cold jelly.
She moves the Doppler on your belly and you can hear the baby’s heartbeat.
“It’s strong and healthy.” The nurse acknowledges.
You couldn’t make out exactly what the baby looked like on the screen, the image is grainy— but you still can’t believe this.
The appointment wraps up and you’re given all the information you need about pregnancy, the baby, and upcoming appointments.
Your mom drives you home — asking you about school, but that’s the last thing you can focus on. You try to keep the conversation going, but she realizes you’re not in the mood and drops it.
You get home and into your room with the papers— you pace around your room, thinking about all of the options.
An abortion would solve everything, but would you really want to do that? Can Billy handle two babies at once? Plus, Chrissy would be your baby's step-mom. What about college? How would you handle that with a newborn? All of the questions flooding your mind starts to make you sick, you go lay in your bed to relax.
You wake up to the doorbell ringing and the pouring rain. Considering whoever’s at the door has rang the door bell multiple times, you must be at home alone.
You rush down the stairs and open the door— to your surprise, it’s Billy.
“Can I please talk to you? I need to.”
You let him in and can’t help the confused look on your face.
Instead of standing in the dark downstairs, you head back up to your room and Billy slips his shoes off— following you.
You walk into your room, standing near your bed and your arms wrapped around your stomach.
“What is that you want, Billy? You’re getting married tomorrow.”
“Tell me not to.” Billy asks.
You pause, unsure of what to even say.
“What?”
Billy walks closer, grabbing your hand.
“Tell me not to. You have the power to stop this whole thing, tell me I’m making a mistake.”
You laugh at him, confusing him.
“I don’t have the power to do anything. You’re getting married to the woman that’s carrying your child.”
He runs his fingers through his hair.
“Damn it, I’m being serious. I love you and I don’t want to do this. If you tell me not to, I’ll call it off.”
You stand there and you’re not sure whether to cry or tell him to call it off. Despite the circumstances, you’re still in love with him— but so angry that he put you in this situation.
“Don’t call it off, marry her.” You spit out.
“Are you serious?
“Dead serious, Billy. This isn’t my situation to get you out of, you wanted her and now you got her.”
“Fuck it.” Billy mumbles.
Billy walks over to you and pulls your face to his in a passionate kiss. Even though your mind was screaming at you to stop, you kiss him back— knowing that this will be the last.
His kisses trail down your face and onto your neck, he licks around your neck like he owns it.
You whimper in his ear as you both fall back onto the bed. You grab his belt buckle undoing it, as he simultaneously pulls your pants down.
He’s rock hard in his boxers, a precum wet spot very visible.
“My parents could be home at any moment.” You struggle to say as he pulls your panties off and sucks on your neck.
“I can be quick.” He groans, sliding his boxers off.
He kisses you, his tongue gliding along yours.
“This is wrong.”
“Then I don’t want to be right. I’m in love with you.” He mumbles.
You start kissing him again, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He lines himself up and pushes in.
“Shit, Billy.” You gasp.
He thrusts slowly in and out of you, allowing you to stretch around him.
“You’re so damn tight, doll.”
You missed the feeling of him inside you, his head dragging along your g-spot.
His fingers grip your hips so hard that he’ll leave a mark.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moans.
“Yes, Billy just like that.”
Your eyes roll back in your head at the pleasure. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex with him— you almost forgot how good he is at it.
“I love you.” He mutters in your ear.
A tear falls out of your eye and onto the bed, “I love you too.”
You feel yourself getting closer to orgasm, so close you can feel it.
“Shit, baby. I’m gonna cum.” He moans.
“Fuck me.” You whimper.
His hips slam against your ass, bringing him even closer to release.
You pull him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as you cum for him. His load filling you as he keeps thrusting.
You both stay there for a moment, reeling from the orgasm and the realization about what you just did hitting you.
Billy pulls out and starts grabbing his things, you get off the bed and go into the bathroom.
Sitting on the toilet you feel so many emotions— it could be the pregnancy or it could be the fact that this would never work.
You hear your bedroom door shut, Billy left.
He didn’t even wait around to talk more, just as confusing as you expected things to be.
You clean up and go get back in the bed, crying yourself to sleep.
The storm had stopped by the morning and the sun was out, it wasn’t warm outside due to it being winter— but still pretty.
Billy is getting married today, married to a pregnant Chrissy— who has no idea. No idea that you’re pregnant and even farther along than her, no idea that you had sex with Billy last night.
This is too much and not what you wanted.
You work up the courage to go downstairs and talk to your mom. You work through the panic and tears, telling her everything.
After how last night went and you thinking hard on it, you tell her that you want to go live with your dad now. It’s way earlier than expected, but it what you feel is best. You’ll finish the school year there and have the baby there.
After a long and grueling conversation with numerous questions, she agrees
You’ve packed up all of your things, said your goodbyes and now you’re on your way to San Diego, California.
This is not at all what you expected for your senior year, but here we are. You haven’t seen Billy or heard from him since the night before his wedding two weeks ago— he still has no idea that you’re pregnant.
You’re still deciding on when you’ll tell him or if you’ll tell him, because then everything will change and who knows what that will look like.
You sit at the gate waiting for your flight to board, staring at people who walk by. You still don’t know how to feel about leaving Hawkins, but hopefully California treats you well.
“Now boarding flight 8272, heading to San Diego.” The flight attendant calls out over the intercom.
Your hand rubs over your sweater, feeling your baby bump.
“That’s us, it’s just you and me. We’re off for a fresh start.”
You get in line and wait to board your flight, staring out the window and seeing planes take off in the distance.
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