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#billy hargrove x fem!reader fanfiction
ashes-writing · 2 years
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free fallin pt two | stranger things ; b.hargrove
A/N; This came to me earlier and I had to do it. Reader isn't a complete goody two shoes, but... she is /innocent/. I decided to write out an entire chapter of their own internalizations and a little friendship between Reader's little sis and Max. I am seriously hoping that this stays the way I think it will because if so, it's going to be cute to write out. and *ahem,coughs* hot in some parts. I uh.. have plans for this.
AHHH you guys, thank you so much. Anyone reading this, esp the likes/reblogs and tags/comments you guys have no idea how much this means to me and how much it encourages me to keep going. It really does help. Thank you soooooo much.
-Ashes.
Pairing ; Billy Hargrove x Innocent!Fem reader
Timeline / Other Stuff; part I can be found by clicking. Definitely a good idea to read that and then come back and read this so it all makes sense. None of the events of s2 pertaining the upside down and all it's unholy terrors and Billy's death or Barbs will be happening. The upside down actually doesn't exist in any of the reader fics I write so.. yeah.
Warning; the smallest mention of Neil -but it's literally just him being mentioned as of rn. Billy. Billy is the warning here, loves. Because he's just an angsty and uncomfy lil bean bc he does not know what to do with ... things he learns.
Taglist;
@allelitesmut @aries-arcade @cole22ann @hcloangcls @heyaitsklaudia @krys-orion @musichealsscars @scoobiessnacks are the only people on my Stranger Things taglist. However I extend a tag to @rampagewriting -- no pressure bb feel free to absolutely ignore. If you do want to be on my taglist for anything including Stranger Things, please go -> here and add yourself.
rules + fandoms || masterlist || ask me things || requests ; open to headcanon asks + nsfw sfw alphabet letters only.
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It’s actually 8:10 when you hear the raucous rumble of the engine belonging to Billy’s Camaro. You wander over to your bedroom window as you finish towel drying your hair and peer out through a gauzy tapestry. About the same time you’re doing this, your sister in middle school bursts through your door, giggling as she rushes to your window. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” she’s got a hand to her heart.
“What?” you give her a blank look.
“Billy Hargrove is parked outside our house, what the hell do you mean what?”
You roll your eyes. You’d forgotten all about her little crush on him. “Calm down. You’re in what, sixth grade?”
“Seventh, asshole.” Virginia pouts. “Seventh.”
“He’s still way too old. Besides,” you state calmly, “If you’re smart you’ll stay away from boys like that. Do you hear me?”
“Mhm. So then… care to explain why he’s here?” she taps her foot.
You throw your hands up in the air. “Tutoring, Gin. I’m tutoring him. There’s no other reason.”
“Are you sure? Because, I mean… I swear I won’t tell Mom and Patrick if he is your boyfriend. Only if it’s him, though. If you bring that prick Harrington over, ugh.. No.”
“I’m suuuure, oh my god, go to your own room.” you shove her out of your bedroom and shut the door behind you.
And then, after you’ve taken a little time to pull yourself together and you’re dressed in some shorts and a cropped red shirt with the Coca Cola logo on it, you make your way downstairs to open the door. Billy’s leaning in the doorway, a smirk on his face. “Darlin, hey.” he’s smooth, too smooth like usual. And when he steps into your house, he makes sure that he presses right up against you in the open doorway, right in front of at least three of your nosiest neighbors, all of whom happen to be either peering out their windows or out watering plants for the afternoon in their neatly manicured flower beds. 
You gulp, hoping to God he didn’t see you do it. Mrs. Myrtle from across the street is staring at your house like she’s trying to commit Billy and his car to memory. “Shit.” you grab Billy’s wrist and pull him through the door, closing it behind you and locking it.
“That nosy bitch, I swear to God.” you grumble and Billy laughs.
“Somethin wrong?” he asks, gazing at you with that damned smirk. Like he doesn’t know already. He has to have heard how strict your mother and stepfather are, he has to be pretty damned aware that you’re known around Hawkins High as “Little Ms. Goody Two Shoes.” 
“Yeah, if she tells my mom and dad you were here when they weren’t, I can kiss my non-existent social life goodbye. But it’s alright, it’s okay.. Maybe it’ll be okay.” you’re pacing a little but he chuckles as he watches you for a few seconds, finally reaching out to grab your arms and bring it to a stop. “You’re going to burn a hole through the floor.” he drawls, all relaxed and casual and obviously no fucks given if you get in serious shit.
You give him a dirty look but you take a deep breath. No reason to panic. They do know that you tutor. But if she tells them what you were wearing when you answered the door, oh god, the lectures. Your mother has tried at least ten times to throw out your favorite shorts and the shirt. Nevermind the fact that your grandmother has at least twenty pictures of your mom with her ass hanging out of her shorts.
Nevermind she used to be a little more…relaxed… before she met Patrick and they got married. 
“Will you just sit down and cut out the pacing shit?” Billy is gazing at you, a brow raised. You nod, swallowing down a lump in your throat when you happen to glance down and see that his hands -those distracting damned hands, are still on your upper arms.  
“Are we doing this or not, darlin? Because I stood up a real hot date just to come over here.” Billy chuckles when he says it, blue eyes dancing. Searching yours for even a hint of jealousy and he’s thrown for a loop when he doesn’t find any. What he does find is hurt.
And yet, you can’t stand him. It shouldn’t bother you. 
It shouldn’t bother him that it bothers you.
You shove out what he’s just said and refuse to dignify it with a comment. It stung a little even though you’d absolutely die before admitting to it. ,,Of course he has a hot date, you think to yourself, he’s Billy fucking Hargrove.” and as soon as you allow yourself that one bitter and jealous little thought, you take a deep breath and nod to the dining table in the room across the hall. “It’s quieter there.”
“Yeah.” Billy mutters, slightly dazed because he can’t take his mind off of the fact that him saying he has a hot date didn’t piss you off or annoy you, but it looks and seems as if it hurt instead. Honestly, he didn’t have a hot date, he just said it to get under your skin.
Because you’ve been under his all damn day. First in that stupid and sweet little sundress with the grandma cardigan and then you answer the door and you look like one of the girls on the poster on his bedroom wall with the cropped shirt, bare feet and cut off denim.
He came here to study. And to get out of the house before Neil came in drunk and angry. Not be distracted, confronted by the one girl he keeps being told he can’t have.
He wanders into the dining room while you’re putting out the books and notebooks, some pens and some other things you might need close at hand. You nod to a chair and he sinks down, wordless.
“Okay, first..” you don’t even look up at him as you open your book to get a little of your own homework done too, “Let’s see how far behind you are, Hargrove.”
He shoves the notebook he brought over in your direction and you  take it, flipping through. Somehow, you expected him to be a lot farther behind. The way he made it sound in the hallway at school, he was borderline flunking out. You look up at him, twisting hair around your finger. “Four assignments? That’s it?”
Billy shrugs. 
“Okay, okay, this is good. This is actually better than I was expecting.” you can see that somehow, your reaction bothered him and for some reason, it has you scrambling to make it sound a little more… complimentary. Because you don’t want him to think you thought he was dumb as dirt or purposely slacking off.
To be fair, you wouldn’t have put it past him so the fact that he is just four behind is a pleasant surprise.
“This is really good, actually.” you manage a smile.
And just when he thinks he can’t get any worse off, there you go. Smiling at him. Rubbing salt in an open wound.
“I don’t just fuck, drink, party and do sports.” Billy mutters calmly as you read over the rough draft of an essay that you’re  surprised was pinned by him for creative writing. A class you’d never associate with him to begin with. You’d have honestly pegged him for a shop class. 
You’ve got your legs on the table and you’re twisting your hair as you read over the rim of your glasses and Billy clears his throat. “Can I get some water or something?”
He just needs to get some space because it’s too much.
When he specifically chose you to be his tutor, it was because he didn’t think you’d get any more appealing to him. He thought he could control himself. He thought he could work his way under your skin like you’ve worked your way under his. Turnabout and fair play.
He’s discovering that this little idea of his may not be the brightest one he’s had.
You get up from the seat and wander into the kitchen, getting up on the counter to get a glass out of the cabinet so you don’t have to wash one already out. You lose your balance just a little and you gasp as you feel the warmth of rough hands gripping your bare middle. You glance down at Billy sheepishly and gulp.
“There’s a glass right there.” he points out calmly.
“I hate washing dishes.” you point out. Billy grabs the glass you’d been reaching for and walks over to the sink, filling it with water. And he leans against the sink, watching you rifle through your fridge.
“Damn it, Gin… you ate my yogurt.” you grumble to yourself in disappointment as you close the door. And when you turn around, you find yourself body to body with Billy. Who promptly gives you one of those fucking smirks. Biting his bottom lip as his eyes move from your eyes down to your mouth. Lingering.
Intent.
“Okay, Hargrove.” you manage to get the words out, only they may as well be a whisper and you want to simply vanish.
This whole idea to give tutoring him a trial run was not a good one, nope. If you thought your dreams about him or the way you’re so fucking aware of him were bad before, you have a feeling they’re going to get so much worse.
Your younger sister peeks in after about an hour to find you going over Billy’s Algebra assignment and explaining to him what’s wrong with one of the problems and she laughs to herself because he’s staring at you like an idiot, he might as well be drooling.
“I thought you said your brother was a heartless asshole, Max.” Gin whispers into the phone to her classmate Max Mayfield. 
“Oh, he can be. He’s just on his best behavior right now. Give it time, Gin.”
“I think you’re wrong, okay? I just have a feeling.”
“Yeah? Well I live with him, Gin. I know him. Just linger a little bit. Make sure he’s not trying to put the moves on her, please? I… I don’t want him to hurt her too.” Max pleads and Gin grumbles. “ ‘Kay, fiiine. I’ll go raid the fridge and call ya back.”
“Please?” Max asks before hanging up.
Gin wanders into the dining room, straight for the kitchen. You glance up and your sister gives a sheepish wave, her gaze lingering on Billy. You palm your face and laugh to yourself.
Naturally, she’s got a crush. She’ll be in and out while he’s here.
“Don’t come in here distracting him.”
“I wasn’t!” Gin mocks a look of horror as you step into the kitchen. You fold your arms and look at her. “I mean it, kid. I know you think he’s hot but he’s way too old for you, alright? Don’t… Don’t make the same mistake me and Mom did.”
“Mom’s only mistake was literally marrying Patrick the uptight countr y club prick.”
“Our father is in prison. They ran away when they were seventeen. Then you have me, being stupid last year with that idiot up at State. I can’t believe I was dumb enough to think a college guy wanted to date me.” you rub your temple and shake your head. “Look, it’s a damn good thing I didn’t do something I really regret. Just… Do not do what we did. Stick to books or boys your own age.”
“Would you relax?” Gin grabs your pint of ice cream and you give her a dirty look, taking the spoon from her after she digs it out of the silverware drawer. You sigh quietly. “I know Billy wouldn’t lead you on like that asshole at State did to me or our father did to mom, but like.. Break your attraction pattern now, kid.”
“You first. I see you staring at him.”
“I do not!”
“Every time he comes to pick Max up from the arcade it’s like your head’s on a swivel. Stop lecturing me and go up in our bathroom, look in the mirror and lecture yourself. Where’s your lighter. I wanna light my candle before the prick with his sensitive nose comes home.”
You dig around in the pocket of your jacket and toss Gin your lighter and she walks right back through the dining room and into the hallway, grabbing the phone on the way.
And Billy clears his throat from the door. And he’s staring at you with that damned smirk. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Just Gin being nosy. She’s got a crush on you, by the way.” you stick your tongue out at Gin, who flips you off from the doorway. Billy snickers quietly. “Nope. Go play with dolls or somethin, kid.” he laughs.
He files away what he did overhear being said between you and your sister for future reference and nods to the dining room. “I think I’m done.” he mutters quietly.
“Okay, let’s go look at it.” you smile and slink past him in the doorway over to the dining table. You sink back down in the chair and you’re going over his worksheet when he clears his throat. “Any reason your sister asked you for a lighter just now?”
Your mouth opens and closes and you shrug. “It belonged to our dad. I keep it on me. She uses it to light her candles while Mom and Patrick are gone.”
“Stepdad, huh?”
“Uptight fun-sucking asshole is more like it.” you mumble, low enough that you’re sure he doesn’t catch it. But he does, and he chuckles.
Suddenly, there’s just a little more about you and certain habits you have that make a lot of sense. 
“So do you smoke or do you just keep it?”
You don’t answer. Billy smirks to himself.
You’re apparently full of surprises. This is either a very good or a very bad thing. He’s not sure which because this is the first time a girl has actually gotten under his skin the way you have. Normally, he can fuck ‘em and forget ‘em already.
You’re a challenge and he absolutely loves those. And he’s staking his hopes on finally getting you to crack so he can fuck you out of his head and out from under his skin already because you’re driving him crazy with your stupid little sundresses and cardigans and then this whole other side you’ve shown him tonight hasn’t made that any better at all.
If something doesn’t happen soon, he’s going to lose his mind, do something stupid like let you get close and he’s determined that cannot happen.
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writethrough · 5 months
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I Know Better
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.
Warnings: Language, slut-shaming
Word Count: 1396
A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.
I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  
This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.
And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.
I hope you enjoy!
Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me
"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 
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Billy Hargrove never scared you. 
Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 
You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 
You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 
Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 
He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 
You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 
It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 
You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 
You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 
Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 
In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 
You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 
“Wanna say that again?” 
Your brows pulled in confusion. 
What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 
It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 
Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 
He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 
Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 
Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 
I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 
No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 
Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 
The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 
At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 
You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 
“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 
“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 
“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 
Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 
He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 
He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 
It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 
He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 
“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 
You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 
This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 
But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 
“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 
There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 
“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 
“You’ll have mine.” 
The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 
You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 
— 
That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 
He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 
“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 
“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 
He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 
“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 
You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 
You took a shot in the dark. 
“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 
His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 
So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 
But why? 
And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 
You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 
“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 
“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 
At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 
“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 
You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 
“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 
Of course, that was what he took away. 
“Billy,” you warned playfully. 
“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 
You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 
“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 
“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 
Names.  
You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 
You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 
“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 
He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 
“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 
“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 
He leaned his elbows on the table. 
“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 
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Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 
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queers-gambit · 6 months
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What Goes Around, Comes Around
prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school
word count: 6.7k+
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".
warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).
DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all
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"That's fucking her, I swear to God."
"You sure?"
"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."
The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.
"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."
"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."
"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"
"Doubt it," Jake nodded.
"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."
"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"
"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"
"I mean - "
"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.
"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.
"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"
"No," Lawrence looked down.
"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"
Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.
So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...
Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.
"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.
"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"
"No? Why?"
"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."
"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."
"What's wrong?" Jason asked.
"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.
He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"
"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."
Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"
"What if their man isn't here?"
"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.
Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.
"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."
"Huh?" Law mumbled.
"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.
"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"
"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.
Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.
"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.
The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.
Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.
Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...
That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.
"Bitch has it coming!"
"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"
"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.
"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"
"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.
"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."
"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"
"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.
Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.
You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.
"I'm so sorry."
"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."
"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.
"Huh?"
"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."
"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"
"We're all in AP History with Snyder."
You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"
"Yeah," he breathed.
"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"
"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"
"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"
"Yeah, that's her."
You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"
"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."
"You did tonight."
"I should've done more a lot sooner."
"You could've been really hurt, Law."
"Like you?"
"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."
"I'm still sorry..."
You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.
"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.
"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"
"Why?"
"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."
"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.
"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."
You only sniffled.
"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.
"Hell happened to you, man?"
Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."
Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.
You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."
"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."
You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.
"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."
"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."
"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.
"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."
"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.
"You said Jake and Steven did this?"
"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."
"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "
"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.
"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.
"My sister's 'round, yeah..."
"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.
"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"
"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"
"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"
"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."
But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.
Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...
Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"
This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.
Billy raced back to you.
Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.
Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"
"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.
"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."
"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."
"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.
"What?"
"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."
Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.
Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.
The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.
His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.
You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.
Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.
After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."
"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "
"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "
"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."
"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"
"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."
Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.
"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."
His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."
Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."
Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."
"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "
"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.
Then he asked, "When?"
"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."
"Kid - "
"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."
Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."
Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.
"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."
"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "
"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.
Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."
"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.
"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.
"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"
"Max?" You asked.
"Yeah, her. Nice girl."
"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.
"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."
Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"
"He and my dad go way back," you eased.
"All cops like him?"
"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."
"Baby, just - don't even start - "
"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "
"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."
Your head shook, but Billy continued,
"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."
"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."
"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."
You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.
By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.
"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.
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Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.
A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.
Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.
The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.
Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.
Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.
You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.
"Hey, Bee?"
"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.
"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"
"Huh?"
"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."
He shrugged, "You need help."
"You don't ask if I do."
"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."
"Billy."
He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.
"Bullshit."
"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."
"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."
"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"
Your head cocked, "Why's that?"
"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "
"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "
You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
"William!"
"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.
You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."
"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."
"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"
He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."
"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"
"'Course I am - "
"Don't lie to me."
He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."
"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."
"I know."
"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."
"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"
"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.
"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "
"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"
He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."
"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."
Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"
"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"
"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."
"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."
Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."
"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.
"No, don't - "
"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."
"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."
"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."
He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."
"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."
He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."
"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."
"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.
"We good?" You whispered.
"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"
"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.
"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.
"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"
"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."
"I'm doing so much better, though!"
"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."
"He has one in two weeks."
"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."
You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"
"I've always been."
"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."
"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."
"Yes, sir."
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requesting rules and masterlist
Stranger Things masterlist
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unamused-boss · 6 months
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Lipstick Stains
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Billy Hargrove x Harrington FemReader
Summary: There has been some new gossip floating through Hawkins High. The gossip being that Billy has a lipstick stain that just so happens to match a certain girl's iconic shade.
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You were a Harrington. You had a certain standing that you had to keep cause of the expectations of your parents. One of those expectations were not making out with Billy Hargrove in his car in the back of the school parking lot during lunch. But your parents were never home so you didn't really give a damn.
"Billy we have to go back into the school at some point." You said releasing your lips from his. As you tried to pull back he pulled you in for another quick kiss.
"Oh come on, we don't have to." He smirked to you.
"Listen Mr. Bad Boy, I know you don't like school but I have a test." You said to him. He gave you a small pout at your response to which you just laughed at him. "You also messed up my lipstick." You said as you flipped the visor down to use the mirror to reapply your dark red lipstick.
"That's not the only thing I can mess up." He joked. You just gave him the look, he knew the look. It didn't need a name.
"Well Hargrove I have to get going." You brought yourself close to kiss his neck then up to the apple of his freckled cheeks. You collected you things to go back into the school before the bell. Before you shut the door you look back at Billy to see the two kiss marks that you left on him. You just smiled at him.
"Love ya, see you later." You said then shut the door to go to the school.
Billy continued with his day like usual. Thinking that nothing would go out of the ordinary. He knew he was hot shit so people were staring at him as perusal but he didn't know what they were staring at. In each class he had stares his way, to which he had to tell some off for looking too long.
"Nice job man." Tommy Hagan laughed as he patted his back. Billy was just confused about what he was talking about but he continued as nothing was wrong. The bell rang through the halls to signal that the school day was over. Billy made his way to the doors top the parking lot to leave when he saw a certain Steve Harrington staring him down from his locker.
"You got a problem Harrington?" He asked.
"Yeah, not with you though." Steve replied slamming his locker shut to go find a certain sister of his. Billy didn't know that, he was just confused and thought nothing of it. He finally was able to make it to his Camaro to wait for Max. Students around him were still looking at him. Some girls looking in distaste, not at him but at the kiss marks on his cheeks. Some guys were just laugh in congrats to him. Billy just wanted to get the hell out and get Max home so he can go see his girlfriend. Billy looked over to see a certain red head making her way over to his car.
"Get in shit-bird, I got places to be." He said as he got in the drivers seat while Max got in the passenger seat. She just stared at him, more than she would usually. Which is not at all. Billy glanced at her a few times.
"What?" He asked annoyed with her staring.
"What's on your face?" She asked. Billy was confused until he thought back to lunch. He grabbed his sun visor to look himself in the mirror to see the two kiss marks on him. Just as he thought, one on his cheek and the other on his neck. He just laughed what he was looking at.
"Well that explains a Lot." He sighed starting his car to drive away.
Later that day Billy was able to make it to the Harrington house hold. Instead of parking down the street, he parked in the driveway. Instead of climbing through the window of his girlfriends bedroom, he simply knocked the front door of her house. Which, unfortunately, the other Harrington answered. He and Steve just stared at one another for a moment.
"Hargrove."
"Harrington."
"What are you doing here?"
"I think you know why exactly I'm here, or you don't."
"I do know why you're here." Steve stated sternly.
"Then tell me, why am I here?" Billy gabbed at him with a smirk playing on his face.
"Can you guys stop having a dick measuring contest for once." Your voice was heard in a very much over it tone. "Get out of here Steve."
"But-" You stopped him from continuing.
"Eh, I don't wanna hear any more then I already have. You're being a Buttface." You sassed at him. "Now I would like to talk to my boyfriend."
Steve just rolled his eyes and sighed. Walking away from his enemy and his sister in the same door way. You turn your head back to Billy with a grin on your face.
"So what are you doing here, handsome."
"Well, I am here to see my girlfriend that I have to have a small chat about." His voice going a slight octave lower. Something that you loved.
"And what do you have to chat about?" You stilled teased at him.
"Well I made out with this gorgeous woman at lunch, and after I thought my day would go by like usual. But I had people staring at me all day. I didn't know why until I looked into the mirror to find that the exact pretty girl I was kissing left some marks on me." He explained to you. "Now I am at said pretty girls house to get a reason why she did that."
"Well I think she just wanted to have a bit of fun with you, if you ask me."
"Well as much as I love that, I think I would love to have some fun with her right now."
"Well you'er gonna have to wait on that, handsome." You said." Big Bro ain't to happy with me, I've been getting an ear full for the past hour."
"I can wait." He reassured. "I will always wait for you, gorgeous." You just smiled at him and dragged him into your house.
"Is he staying long?" Steve's distant voice was heard.
"Shut up Steve." You yelled out to him. "Like I said, ear full all day."
You and Billy just laughed at the situation. But at least you both can enjoy each others company in the end.
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I hope y'all enjoyed this. Sorry if it is short. I know I haven't been to active, writing wise, lately. I'm trying to get through school right now.
I will try to get more out for Boots and Trumpets, and Practically Magic later.
Thank you for reading.
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bookshelf-dust · 3 months
Text
i was made to love you
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billy hargrove x fem!reader
gif by @suledins
word count: 1,879
warnings: teeny bit of swearing (i think?), reader has some bad experience with romantic things/insecurities/trust issues, anxious habits (lip picking), anxiety/slight panicking, otherwise quite soft and comforting
a/n: well, hello! i haven’t written for billy since october (gasp), but i’m happy to say that i finally got some inspiration for him again and i am pretty pleased with how this turned out. that inspiration was courtesy of a few prompt lists i found! the first being from this list by @euthymiaaa and the second from this list by @creativepromptsforwriting !! both of those were extremely helpful in getting me back in the groove of things. please check those blogs out!! anyway, i hope you will find some comfort in this and that you’ll enjoy. happy reading!!! <333
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“What’s the matter with you?”
Billy isn’t being mean when he asks you this. His tone isn’t cruel, but instead there’s a lilt to his voice, an almost desperate one. 
He’s asking you to talk to him. The way you’ve been standoffish towards him all day is freaking him out. Your lip is raw from how aggressively you’ve chewed at it, since you’d rather do that than voice your feelings.
But he can’t take seeing you act this way.
“Come on. The windows are gonna start rattling with how you’re bouncin’ your leg, babe.”
You stop on instinct, red-stained fingernails moving back to your bottom lip. 
“Nothing’s wrong, Billy. Just having a bad day.”
But that’s not totally true. Your day had been mundane at best. This feeling, your acting this way, had started when he’d shown up this morning, unannounced, with flowers in his hand. For you. 
Something inside you broke upon seeing him there, knowing he’d spent money on you, knowing that for some reason he was thinking about you. You can’t understand it.
Billy gets up from his place on the couch. His socked feet move across the carpet until he’s sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. His hand grips your knee. You can’t avoid him this way, and it frustrates you even more, because why is it your attention that he wants? 
“I know you better by now than to believe that,” he says firmly.
You can’t handle this. You sit up further on the couch and criss cross your legs so they’re out of his reach. You try not to notice the flash of pain across his face. You’re retreating from him and he doesn’t like it. 
“Why are you doing this, Billy?”
He blinks. “Doing what?”
“Bringing me flowers. Thinking about me. Wanting to spend time with me. Touching me, calling me those names. Why do you do all of that to me?” Your voice breaks over that last word and you exhale, hard. 
Billy’s eyebrows knit together. “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stare at him like he’s suddenly grown a third eye. Like it should be obvious to him why doing all of these things is wrong.
You lift your hand and rub at your chest. “Because I’m me.”
Billy lets out a huff of a laugh, looking over his shoulder like there must be some hidden camera in the room. “Yeah, and?”
Your eyes water. “Can’t you see all that’s wrong with me? There’s so many other girls you could be spending time with. So many you could love or pamper. We’re not even together and you-you’re treating me like I’m special.”
You stand up, now short of breath. Billy stands with you. You keep rubbing your chest. You slip a hand under your sweatshirt and squeeze the soft of your side, leaving fingernail imprints in your skin.
He moves quickly across the floor, recognizing that you’re starting to panic. He takes your hand in his, but keeps your clasped fingers pressed against your chest, just under your collarbones.
“You are special. To me, you’re the only girl in the world,” Billy says. But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are glued to some spot behind his head. He presses his thumb to your jaw. “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes find his and he follows a tear as it makes its way down your cheek. “You’re the only girl in the world.”
Your eyes flutter shut and you pull away from him. 
“Th-this doesn’t make sense. I’m not the kind of girl that receives flowers or gets loved on or gets chosen. You’re my favorite person in the world, Billy, but I can’t possibly be what you want.”
He maintains eye contact with you, trying to understand why you’re behaving this way. Why you don’t believe his motives behind treating you the way he does. Like a princess.
You continue on, starting to pace. “My default is being a nervous wreck, Billy. I hate leaving the house, I don’t have any prospects, I’m not exciting…and I don’t have anything t-to offer you.”
And then it clicks.
Everything comes rushing into Billy’s mind, and he understands now, why you’re so confused, why you’re so afraid of the fact that he’s choosing you.
You’ve never had someone treat you this way. The last guy you talked to, the only guy you’ve talked to, wanted you first. But then you realized he wanted to talk when he needed something. You got attached and he took advantage of that. He dangled everything you’d ever wanted right in front of your face and then took it all away.
And now you’re trying to figure out why someone would want you.
The next words to leave your mouth snap Billy out of his stupor.
“I don’t deserve you.” 
Billy swipes a hand down his face, fingers traveling to the back of his neck where he tugs at his hair to keep himself composed. Nothing is more frustrating than having the best girl he’s ever known in front of him and she can’t even see a shred of the value she has. How good she is. 
He sighs. “If you think I am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you’re wrong.”
You stop moving and slowly step back towards the couch. Your hands reach out for the cushions first, like you need to steady yourself or you won’t be able to sit properly. 
This is the part where he’s supposed to leave. To lash out at you and say you’re too anxious, too worried. Thinking about the way those words have been said to you in the past makes you nauseous and your fingers rub at your stomach. 
Billy tracks the motion and sits back down on the coffee table like he had been before. You’re trying to wrap your head around this. 
You’d felt desired for a short time before Billy, and you’d felt special, having been treated like you were. But those features weren’t because of you and who you are, but because it guaranteed you’d be giving attention to someone else. Someone who fed off of that and needed it to feel satisfied. It was never because he really wanted you.
But now Billy does. 
“I’m sorry, Billy. I want to be able to accept that you’re doing all of these things because your intentions are pure and because you actually like me, it’s just that my mind—it can’t comprehend that just yet.”
Billy takes your face in his hands. They’re warm and calloused and big, and your eyes fill just from the feeling. 
“Don’t apologize to me. I understand where you’re comin’ from. But in all honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I bring you flowers and ask to take you out and buy you books and stay the night because I want you. I’ve never wanted to do any of that with someone before. I’m not doing it for my gain. But because you…you are worth all of that. I want to make you happy. You understand me?”
You blink, and Billy’s thumb swipes the tear away before it travels down your face. You start to nod.
“I understand. Can you just…” You lock eyes with him. “Be patient with me? I’m gonna have to learn how not to be afraid o-of this and I know it’ll be hard.”
Billy knows your emphasis on “this” means a potential relationship with him. One beyond the slightly-more-than-friends thing you’ve got going on now. If he’s honest with himself, the prospect of that scares the shit out of him too, because he’s never really done this officially either. He’s always been a hookup kind of guy. The few girlfriends he had never lasted long or had some lasting emotional connection. But he knows your life hasn’t been that way. You’re afraid for different reasons. Because you think he’ll slip away and that you’ll really be the version of yourself that you see on a daily basis. 
“Of course I can. I wouldn’t just give up on you because you’re kinda fucked up. That’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?”
The corners of Billy’s mouth twitch. You blink at him, winded at his attempt to make you laugh. 
He chuckles to himself, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture steals the breath from your lungs but makes you warm all over. You grab hold of his wrist where it still lingers near your face. Billy is drawing shapes on your shoulder. 
He relaxes his arm and lets you take his hand in your own. You drag your index finger along the lines crossing his palm in every direction.This is more entertaining than anything you’ve done in weeks. Your hand slides up against Billy’s until they’re lined up at the heels, and you push against him in an effort to convey that you want to raise them. 
Billy catches on. You’re trying to compare his hand to your own. He thinks it’s a silent way for you to communicate with him. Like your way of saying: I want this too. I care about you. You matter to me. 
His palm is so warm. Just like the rest of him. And his hand is much bigger than yours, enough so that you hold back a shiver. You want to be able to show Billy that you feel how he does. You want to be able to use those gestures as effortlessly as he does. 
So you lower your fingers until they fall between each of his. And then you’re holding hands. You give Billy a little grin, and he swears he could fucking melt. Seriously, the way you make him feel ought to be studied. 
To him, spending time with you, comforting you, talking to you about the hard things, learning who you are—it’s as easy as breathing. 
It’s like he was made for this. Everything up to this point has prepared him for you. He thinks that somehow, someway, he would’ve found you no matter the situation. You have always been it for him, even when he didn’t know it yet.
You take a deep breath.
I deserve this, you think. I deserve to be cherished and to hold hands. I deserve to let go and see this through.
“Maybe…maybe together we can learn to be a little less fucked up,” you finally say. “I could be easier that way.”
Billy squeezes your hand. “And maybe we’ll get more fucked up in our own special ways.”
That gets a quiet giggle out of you. Shit, he’s won the lottery. 
After a moment of peaceful silence, Billy leans forward, dipping his head down so he’s looking up into your eyes. His own are so very blue this close. With those little flecks of gold. 
“You deserve the world. I need you to know that. I don’t want anyone else. I want to learn you, inside and out. I want you with me. Is that okay with you?”
You look at him, at the way his curls frizz out by his ears, the way his freckles have faded because of the cold, the way his hand shakes when it leaves yours.
“That’s okay. More than okay.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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hellfire--cult · 1 year
Text
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, Stripper!Billy, Stripper!Steve, sensual dancing, shyness towards men, nervousness, fainting, sexual innuendos.
Summary: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
A/N: IDK MAN. I just needed to write this down so that my brain could stop messing with me and I am still writing. This will be a two part thing, maybe three, with long chapters. It will have smut, and a lot of sexual tension my boys, but it won't be a long series.
As always, all reblogs help, tagging it, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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Part 1
You shouldn’t be here.
You knew you were not going to be able to tolerate it, yet, here you are, at your best friend’s bachelorette party. You weren’t nervous about that, no. Before coming to the place you are now, you had all gathered at her home, which was decorated and drinks, food and games were all around to play with. 
Most of the time, you could handle the decoration your other best friend picked. Robin was in charge of decoration for Nancy’s wedding, and everywhere you looked, a dick was there. In all shapes, colors, and some were not even humanly shaped. But there were times in the day where you had to excuse yourself to catch your breath in the bathroom because of it as well.
And now, things have gotten worse. Extremely worse. Because you seriously forgot this part of the party. This part that Robin had talked to you about. This part where you begged her to not do it because it was super cliché.
You were at a strip club. A male, strip club.
“Best seats on the house ladies!” The host greeted us and you could read the name on the tag as Joyce. She seemed nice, and welcoming, but the place you were in wasn’t remotely inviting to you. The table, in question, was right next to the end of the catwalk, so you were going to have the show right in front of your face.
You were sweating already, feeling your stomach flutter around as you looked around to all the excited women waiting for the show to begin. You didn’t even read the presentation of the men that were performing tonight. There were pictures at the entrance, with their names, ages, and some hobbies, but you couldn’t even do that.
“Hey, you okay?” Robin whispered to you worriedly, and you snapped your head towards her. You didn’t even know you were staring at the catwalk with a terrified look in your face. “You can go to the bathroom if you want, or just go wait in the car? I don’t want you there alone, but if it’s too much, just leave.” She says to you, not promising to go with you if that does happen.
You cannot blame her, and you can’t be mad either. She had organized everything, knowing you couldn’t do it. Knowing there was no way you would do a reservation on a place like this. She can’t leave Nancy, not even if Barb, Vickie, and Kali were there, so you just nodded at her, trying to shake your nervousness away.
“Yeah, yeah… I’m fine Robs.” You replied to her and she sighed, giving you a small nod. You didn’t want Nancy to have a bad night, so you believed you could endure this, just for an hour or two. 
But your shyness towards men has followed you since childhood.
You tried kissing, getting a boyfriend, even having sex, yet, meeting random men made your nerves go crazy on you, to the point of almost feeling like throwing up. You thanked your dad for this horrible curse. Growing up with no male figure whatsoever, and your mom being cheated on three times in your face did nothing to help with your shyness, and sometimes, even fear. Just small of it.
You weren’t afraid of men. You were afraid of what they could do, of what they could ruin in just a second, of how manipulative they can be. You know women can do that too, but you never met one like that, nor heard stories about it. You’ve seen it in movies of course, even books of the woman being the cheater and the horrible person you believed only men could be. 
But the shyness always worsened if the man before you was handsome. Your ex boyfriend was just remotely attractive to you, that’s why you gave it a chance. It sounds horrible, but you weren’t attracted to him, because if you were, you were sure to shut down every time he talked to you. 
It’s sad you weren’t attracted to women like Robin is, or bisexual like Vickie. If you were, you might not even have this problem, or maybe yes, because if you were attracted to women too, then this issue might even escalate there. 
But you weren’t, so that’s why your shyness didn’t exist around the female crowd. 
“Okay ladies, prepare your bills!” Barb yelled excitedly and your heart almost jumped out of your chest. You were seated the farthest away from the stage, so you would have to just sit back and hope to make no contact with whoever dances on that stage.
You were also hoping these men weren’t even remotely handsome. 
The lights went off as your drinks were getting delivered and you were chugging down on your Margarita as if it were water to make your nerves go away, knowing very well they won’t, while the rest of your friends yelled loudly in excitement. The tables full of ladies around you also yelled loudly as Unholy from Sam Smith started playing and your breath caught in your throat as the first man walked out.
He had brown hair, with a bit of volume and styled nicely, brown eyes, and he was dressed like a priest, rosary dangling in his left hand. He was handsome, yes, but thanks to the outfit your nerves were still remotely stable. You heard the ladies all around you cheer while drinking some beer.
“Hello Stevie boy!” You heard the woman coo as she waved at him, and you saw him wink back at her. She must be a regular you thought. The lights were bright as he walked down the catwalk, between the tables, and you were feeling your leg going up and down as he came closer. 
The lights suddenly went fully red as the chorus hit, and his grand had gripped the collar of his cassock, and in one tug, he had ripped the buttons, fully opening his garments and your eyes widened, your stomach turning into a sea of nerves and nausea as his abdomen was revealed, slightly toned, beauty marks all over. Your eyes trailed downwards, and he was wearing some tight short black briefs. Your friends all cheered as he took the garment off, throwing it on the floor as he swayed his hips while running the rosary all over his chest, down towards his abs.
You were surprised no one was offended by this.
He turned towards the table that was opposite of yours and dropped on his knees as he swayed his hips towards the ladies there. You had perfect view of his ass and you blushed a deep red as you tried to look away. You were glad it wasn’t your table, because you weren’t going to do what the ladies in that table or your friends were going to do. 
Dollar bills were being shoved in his briefs by hungry and lustful hands, and he always kept a smile on his face. You turned to see he was facing your table and the blood in your system drained completely. He crawled over and as he reached the very edge of the catwalk, he glided his abdomen down, as if grinding onto the floor, and his eyes were trained on Nancy.
She was wearing a small crown with white flowers, and a small white veil dropped at the back of her head. He knew it was a bachelorette party. You sighed with relief knowing this now. You weren’t going to be the focus of it! All the men were going to pamper Nancy because they know it’s her bachelorette party! One last whoop of ‘freedom’ before tying the knots. 
He jumped off the catwalk as he stepped over towards Nancy. You saw how he moved Nancy’s chair to face away from the table and she was giggling at the strength he had. You were trying to keep up with the clapping to the music but you were distracted as he stood over Nancy, over her lap, both hands gripping the back of her chair, his face inches from hers.
You were sweating now. You don’t know how Nancy could be smiling at this, shoving bills in his briefs. He bit onto the rosary that was wrapped in his left wrist, making it unwrap itself from there, and let it dangle from his mouth as he grabbed onto her hands and made her roam his chest, down to his abdomen sensually.
“GO NANCE!” Robin yelled while cheering and you were just stunned at how calm everyone is about this. He was swaying his hips over her as their eyes were locked with one another. You could see him smirking with the rosary’s beads still in his mouth and your jaw almost dropped at how sexy this man was, and you were extremely intimidated by it.
Your feet wanted to up and leave, but you were trying to stay calm, knowing Nancy had her veil on, and the night would be on her.
This Stevie boy leaned down to her face and his nose nudged her cheek, and you were sure he was going to kiss it, but he didn’t. He was letting heavy hot breaths onto Nancy’s skin, making it have goosebumps all over and shiver. Knowing this, Steve finally pulled away, putting the rosary around Nancy’s neck, winking down at her and pushing himself off her.
He hopped on the stage, the song finishing while the women cheered all around. He bent down towards his outfit to get something out of pockets and your eyes widened when he took a bottle out, a large vial with a cross on it. He grabbed onto the cork with his teeth, smirking as the crowd yelled in excitement. He walked back towards Nancy, dropping down off the stage, the lights shining on them as he handed Nancy the bottle and making her stand up from her chair. 
Nancy bit her lip as he slowly got on his knees, his hands over his chest in a praying position and you felt your heart coming out of your throat as he smiled up at her. She put the bottle over his chest and tilted it, dropping the water on him. All the girls were cheering and you looked down to the table to fight the shakiness and the blush on your cheeks. 
How did the girls do this with no problem? 
The song ended and he got claps all around as well as Nancy who was fanning herself with her other hand. The man stood up, completely drenched, his body glistening under the lights. Nancy took all of the bills from the girls and started shoving them in the edges of his briefs while he chuckled at her enthusiasm. He knew she liked the show.
“What a lucky man.” You heard him flirt with her, giving the table a wink which made you jump slightly, and he got on the catwalk under the dimmed lights, receiving claps and last hollers as he picked his outfit from the stage and gave a last smile to the crowd before disappearing behind the curtains. 
“Oh my god.” Nancy made you snap out of your staring as she fixed her chair back onto the table, and she was still fanning herself, putting the bottle on the table. “I am definitely taking that as a souvenir.” 
All your friends giggled and you couldn’t even take off the panicked look you had on your face. You licked your lips as everyone ordered a new round of drinks. You needed to calm these nerves down and you decided to talk to Robin again.
“Robs, how many dancers are there?” You asked her and she winced slightly and then sighed.
“Just two more.” Two. Two, okay that wasn’t so bad, you can handle two more. “You doing okay? Was that too much?”
“A little freaked out, but thankfully, Nancy is going to be the main person at our table, so I won’t be even near these men.” You said, almost as if convincing yourself and Robin nodded at you with reassurance which made you sigh a little bit in relief. You can handle a little more, it was bad, but it didn’t happen to you so watching it was tolerable.
After a few minutes, Joyce brought another round of drinks and you had another Margarita ready to be downed in two seconds. Your nerves stood on end as the lights dimmed again. You heard the roaring of a car as the song ‘Bad Karma’ from Miley Cyrus started blasting on the speakers. 
The curtains opened to a man wearing just a denim jacket over his naked torso, a blonde mullet in his hair, sunglasses over his eyes, while his legs were covered in tight jeans and a black belt around his waist. The women cheered and you could see some already fanning their faces. 
“This is Billy, right?” You heard Barb ask Kali, which the girl nodded excitedly. You could see the man smirk, showing his teeth towards the crowd as he licked over them as if excited. He walked a little bit to be in the center of the stage, and he turned around to shake his hips slowly while holding onto his jacket, opening it wide. Your eyes fixed on his backside, and his ass was even better than the last man. You felt your body burning wildly as he turned around, showing his torso in his full glory thanks to him widening open his jacket. 
Moans could be heard in the song and this Billy guy bit his bottom lip as he started to take off his jacket, slowly, swaying side to side, teasing all the women he was standing in front of. They were whining at him for not fully taking his jacket off. He nodded towards his jeans and the women understood perfectly, standing excitedly to shove some bills into the edges and some in his pockets while he chuckled, his hips moving from side to side.
He fully took off his jacket, throwing it towards the start of the stage and the women cheered as he grabbed the hands of an older woman, looking like 70’s or more, while bending down, kneeling in front of her. She was laughing, feeling shy about the action, shaking her head to a younger woman who was encouraging her. You tilted your head at the woman in confusion. She was acting shy, trying to pull away with a smile to her face but he was still holding onto her. If she didn’t want to, why was he making her do it?
You saw how his smirk turned into a soft smile, intertwining his fingers with hers, saying something to her and you could see the woman smile, while giving him a soft nod and she put both her hands on his chest, and he yelled out in cheer towards the crowd, who all clapped and cheered for the bravery of the lady. 
He smiled down at her as the woman retreated her hands with a giggle. The younger one was laughing next to her, cheering her on and this man bent down to give the older woman a kiss on the cheek, leaving her red and you could even see the words ‘thank you’ displayed on her lips. He stood back up, his smile turning into a devilish smirk again as he scanned the room. His eyes landed on your table again, and you jumped slightly because you didn’t know who he was looking at, but you didn’t have anything to worry about it, because it was Nancy’s bachelorette party—
Nancy wasn’t wearing her crown. She didn’t have the veil on.
You felt your breath getting caught in your throat as he walked towards the table, hopping off the catwalk and walking by Nancy, passing his hand in the back of her chair. He then passed behind Robin’s. You tensed up when you felt his presence behind you, your knuckles going white on your thighs, not even daring your gaze to follow him. Your heart was beating wildly, like never before. If you were to look at your smartwatch, it was probably at 165 bpm. 
You felt the air you were holding in your lungs leaving you when he didn’t grab your chair, or you for that matter, but he held tightly onto the back of Barb’s chair, tilting her backwards for her head to look up at him, hitting onto his torso. He grinned at her, taking his sunglasses off and you were stunned to see the brightest set of eyes you’ve ever seen in your whole life. You didn’t expect those irises, and you could see Barb’s throat bobbing up and down nervously.
He put her back in place as he shoved one of his sunglasses’ temples down Barb’s cleavage, hooking them in place there. His hands ran over her chest and down her sides. You saw your friend’s eyes close as she shivered with a smile on her face. You caught something in your peripheral view, and saw Joyce walking with a small tray. She put it in front of Barb and your eyes widened when you saw a small glass with salt in it, a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila. 
“Oh…” Barb said with wide eyes, and she felt her chair being pulled away from the table and the man chuckled at her, stepping in between her and the table, showing her his white teeth.
“That’s for me, sweet thing.” The women around us cheered and swooned, as Nancy hollered towards Barb while he bent towards Barb’s ear to whisper something and you saw Barb smiling and nod in approval. 
You gulped tightly as you saw him grab the lemon from behind him and then hold onto the back of Barb’s head, tilting it backwards. He ran the lemon onto the side of her neck, dampening it, and then he ran a thumb on Barb’s chin, making her open her mouth. He put the side of the lemon’s skin in her mouth and she held it in between her teeth. He then grabbed onto the salt, and put some on his hand.
The ladies around us were clapping with rhythm at the same time, encouraging what was happening as he smiled devilishly at his crowd. He then looked down at Barb and pressed the salt onto the dampened part of her neck, sticking it to the skin. She shivered at the touch and he then wiped his hand on his jeans as he held onto the tequila shot in his other one. 
“Ready for me?” You heard the women ‘woo’ at his words and you almost covered your eyes as he tilted Barb’s head to the side, leaning down towards her with a smirk on his lips. He took his tongue out and gave it a flat lick, slowly, sensually, pressing his tip at her pulse point as he felt the salt finish. 
“Holy fuck.” You heard Robin say and you just wanted to bolt the hell out of there. This was too much, even for you, a spectator. He took the shot, throwing his head back with it, throwing the glass to the side, and it didn’t even break. He held onto the back of Barb’s head, leaning back down to lick onto the lemon on her mouth. Barb’s fingers were hooked at the front pockets of his jeans, pulling him close. He smirked widely as he finally bit onto the lemon, his lips touching Barb’s as he did so.
Your breath got caught in your throat. You didn’t know Strippers could kiss guests, clients at that. In the cheek, or neck, was one thing, but on the lips? 
Your group of friends had dollar bills in their hands, ready to put them in his pants and you felt a deep blush creep in your face from nervousness and embarrassment. You didn’t want to be the only one to not put a bill there. He was just doing his job, but you were just too shy to do so. Robin grabbed your hand and put a bill in there and you were wide eyed looking at her.
“I’ll help you, you can just close your eyes!” You were thankful for Robin. She was helping you in not being seen as a cheap person, not paying them for their entertainment. You nodded nervously at her, gulping loudly as you saw the Billy guy finally pull away from Barb. He took the lemon out of her mouth, throwing it onto the tray again. She was smirking at him and he followed her gaze to his pants and he saw the money she shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.
“What a sneaky baby.” He winked at her and he walked towards Nancy for her to shove her bills in his pockets, then Kali, then Vickie, Robin, and you felt your breath on your throat as he looked at you, cocking his head to the side as he inspected you. Robin grabbed tightly onto your hand and you closed your eyes, feeling your heart in your throat as she guided you towards the hem of his pants. As soon as you felt the denim, you shoved the bill there, and your hand flew back to your lap, as well looking down at your table.
You didn’t even look if he was still there or not, but you felt your body on fire, and cold at the same time. You didn’t know if you would be able to take another dancer. The anxiety and nervousness was destroying you inside out at this point. 
“He’s gone.” You heard Robin whisper and a sigh of relief escaped you as all the girls looked at you worriedly.
“You can go to the car, I won’t get mad babes…” Nancy coos at you and you look up at her. You remembered how Nancy helped you move into your apartment, settle in, help you call your internet service and fight off the plumber that wanted to scam you for a leak that was in the kitchen sink. You shook your head at her and let out a breath.
“I’m okay, it’s just one more, right?”
“I took off my veil so that everyone could have the chance of a dance–” At that Kali intervened.
“We don’t mind if you put it back on, it might make her feel more comfortable.” You were thankful for the friends you had, all understanding, but you didn’t want to ruin their fun, so you put on a bright smile on your face and nodded at Barb.
“What if the next dancer does something even wilder than what this Billy dude did to Barb here?” You said with a laugh and the girls erupted in giggles as Barb herself blushed a deep red.
“Oh god… You guys know I’m not one the guys go for, so it felt… so nice.” You knew about Barb’s self esteem being low, but you always found her so beautiful. You didn’t understand how she didn’t see that in herself. 
“You look hot Barb! And I am a lesbian, so take it as a fact.” Robin said and Vickie nodded at that, smiling widely.
“I second that.” A blush creeped on Barb’s cheeks and she gasped when she felt the sunglasses hanging on the V-Shaped cleavage of her shirt. 
“Oh… Guess I have a souvenir as well.” Barb smirked and you smiled at her happiness and giddiness. You wished you could react like that when a handsome man did something nice for you, but all you ever did was mutter a silent ‘thanks’ and walk away when it happened. You once had a nice looking man help you reach the top of a shelf in the supermarket, helping you get the raspberry jam you couldn’t reach. 
You turned around to thank the person before you, but as soon as you saw the beautiful middle aged man that stood behind you, gray hairs and all, you almost fainted. Your air pipe immediately closed, and you felt too dizzy to even say anything to him. 
So you ran away, forgetting the jam and all.
It was a curse because you didn’t know how to solve this, and you cannot be in a relationship if you have no attraction towards the person. Your sex life would be miserable, and you won’t ever be entirely happy. The worst part, is that, if you catch feelings, the person before you would look beautiful to you no matter what, so you were scared of it ever happening, even though you terribly desired it.
You stiffened when the lights dimmed again, and you saw many women near the catwalk and stage get up excitedly. You could hear whispers here and there while you looked around to see what was going on. 
“Last time, I got a lap dance from him, it was so good Donna.” You heard a woman say to the other and then another conversation caught your ear, right behind you.
“You think Eddie will have his hair down or in a bun today?”
So, the last man’s name is Eddie. Okay, just one more dance, and he might not even target your table now! Nancy doesn’t have the veil on, Barb already had a sexy time, so they have to prioritize other tables, other clients. Yes. It’s alright, you can do this, there’s no problem at all, you just have to push through your nerves and nausea and–
‘Do I wanna know?’ by Arctic Monkeys started playing and you shivered at the tune. You didn’t even want to look, but the excitement and shine in your friends' eyes made you a little curious as to what they were looking at. You turned your head towards the stage, and your eyes widened like plates as you saw the man standing on it.. 
You felt your air leaving your lungs, quite literally at the sight of him. He was extremely gorgeous, even without the clear irises the last guy had, Eddie was absolutely mesmerizing. He had his hair up in a bun, some stud on his chin, and then your eyes went downwards, towards his outfit. He had a black crop top on, with a leather jacket on top, but your eyes bulged when you saw the happy trail of dark hair, going from his abs, down the hem of his leather pants that were tightened with a black belt that had handcuffs at the front of it.
He was too attractive, too inviting, and you felt like vomiting at this very moment. 
He winked towards a group of ladies on the side and headed towards them, bending down, grabbing onto the bottle of champagne one was holding. He took a sip of it, and held onto the cheek of the girl before him. You felt your heart almost coming out of your mouth as the girl, willingly, opened her mouth. He leaned forward, and kissed the woman before him, giving her the alcohol he just took a sip of. 
Okay, he is a bold one. A very bold one.
He pulled away with a smirk to his face, leaving the girl completely dazed and your jaw dropped when you saw her put a One Hundred Bill in the front pocket of his leather pants. Not only did she put one in his pocket, but another girl next to her as well, and the next one too. Why are they handing out one hundred bills as if it were candy!? 
You saw him starting to pull off his jacket, revealing his arms full of tattoos, as he swayed it back and forth on his body, fully taking it off after some cheering, and he threw it on the floor afterwards. He bit his bottom lip as he dropped to his knees, and your eyes widened when his hips started moving back and forth, slowly, graciously, as if thrusting into something. The girls on his right were waving bills at him with excitement in their voices. He chuckled, sliding towards them and your eyes widened when he held a man’s hand.
You took notice of Eddie’s hands, covered in rings as he put the man’s knuckles up to his lips, kissing them tenderly. The young man was fanning himself as the girls next to him were squealing, yelling ‘Happy birthday Johnny!’ to him. Eddie motioned for something behind the girls, at their table, and one of them grabbed onto a plate that had a slice of cake on it. 
Eddie scooped some of the whipped cream with his fingers and he smirked as he wiggled them in front of the man’s face. 
“Oh my god…” You gasped as you saw the young guy opening his mouth, and Eddie pushed his fingers inside. You felt your stomach do a violent turn at that, your nervousness was now at its peak. Everything with this guy was not even discreet, or with double meanings. He was going straight to the point, taking what he wanted, not even scared of doing so. 
You could handle the small dances, and hip grinding, but going for a straightforward kiss? Sticking his fingers inside someone else’s throat? He was definitely the favorite, and you could guess why, but you didn’t want to stay and find out just what else he was willing to do. You didn’t think you would be able to push away your nerves any longer, so you nudged Robin, catching her attention. 
“Robs, I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom until this show is over.” Robin nodded at you, and squeezed your hand.
“I figured, he is… He is something else.” She said with a small chuckle and you could only nod, gulping heavily as the beat of the song rang in your ears. 
“Send me a message when it’s safe to come out, okay?” You say to her and she gives you a thumbs up. You stood up, not daring to look forward, or catch the man’s eyes. You don’t want him to think you were bored, you just simply couldn’t take the boldness of it all anymore. You went to grab your purse, and suddenly you froze.
Over your hand, which was on top of the small container with your belongings, a ring clad hand pressed over your knuckles, stopping you. A light was on you, and you felt your blood completely drain from your body as a wood-like scent invaded all of your personal bubble. You didn’t know where to look, what to do, what to say to escape, and you felt yourself take a sharp intake of breath when you felt his other hand gliding over your left thigh, just gently, as if brushing.
“Is my show boring you, princess?” A hot breath brushed your ear as he spoke low towards you. Goosebumps displayed all over your body, a sharp shiver ran up and down your spine and you felt a cold sweat invading your body. It wasn’t panic, it was plain nervousness, anxiety of being this close to a man. A handsome man. A man that was bold with his movements, not even a stutter in them. 
He grabbed onto your hand, and turned you around, making you face him and if you didn’t have breath in your lungs before, right now, every part of you was empty. No air, no blood, nothing. The only thing you felt was the tight knot in your stomach, and shakiness happening on your knees. You wanted to tell him, talk to him, say that you weren’t comfortable, but you couldn’t speak. Your words were completely snatched away.
His brown eyes were staring into yours, as he guided your hand up, behind his head, and you felt the bun on top of it as you kept staring into his face. You didn’t know if you were red or pale at this point, but you needed to run away. He grabbed onto the tie of his bun with the tip of his finger, and pulled, letting his hair cascade around his face and on top of his shoulders.
Your eyes were wide, lungs contracting on themselves as the man before you became even more handsome than before just by letting his hair down. Your heart was breaking your chest open, because never in your life have you had an interaction like this before with a man. Not with someone as attractive as he was. Not with someone who was making your nerves go crazy in your whole body, making you hyper aware of everything around and how his eyes were staring down at you. 
You were feeling your breath quicken as he guided your hand with his, downwards, under and you felt your fingertips run over his crop top and then towards the hem of it. You jumped slightly when you felt his skin under your hand, and you started feeling light headed, dizzy, and you needed air, god, you needed air. His face got close to you once again and you wanted to pull away, run, anything, you needed to leave and you couldn’t communicate it. 
“No need to be shy with me sweetheart.” And his nose brushed with yours. He was going to kiss you. He was going to smash his lips with yours. He was going to close the distance. You were going to be able to taste him. You were going to have his scent go into your nose and fill your lungs completely with it. Your body will flush against his, press against his chest, his hips pressing against yours.
He was going to kiss you.
And you blacked out.
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End of part
A/N: I always believed that if Barb and Billy remained alive and helped the group, they would definitely do the Enemies to Lovers thing. Like, yes.
Taglist is open!
Here are the songs for this part:
Steve's:
Billy's:
Eddie's:
2K notes · View notes
billys-pretty-babe · 2 months
Text
Favorite Thing You Love To Do
Pairing : Older!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader
Summary : A simple little gift for Billy gets him unbelievably turned on.
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Warnings : swearing, smut (oral - fem! receiving, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms -> squirting, restraints - under the bed system, billy has a jacob's ladder piercing), age gap (billy is 37, reader is 27) aftercare, billy makes a pegging joke
Word count : 3,740
A/N : this is very dirty and very self indulgent, sorry
Title is inspired by Everything I Wanna Do by Nickelback (X)
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You looked at the pictures that Nancy Wheeler had helped you develop, neither of you letting Jonathan see the raunchy pictures of you on Billy's car. They had a film developing room in their house which you were very fortunate for.
You watched the pictures dry as Nancy stood next to you, her jaw dropping as the first one developed and you laughed. Robin had helped you with the pictures considering she and Billy weren't close in the slightest.
The picture became more and more visible, showing you in one of his white shirts that had oil stains from working on cars for the past ten plus years, your legs were slightly open, showing the black lace underwear that you were wearing. "Hope you liked walking," Nancy said, giggling a little. You laughed and watched the other pictures develop.
She helped you collect them carefully so they wouldn't damage and soon you were on your way back to Billy's house. He stood in the driveway, washing his car, his hair pulled back and shirtless, showing all of the tattoos he had.
He looked at you, winking as he puffed on a cigarette. You got out of your car, walking to him and kissing his bearded jaw. "I'll be back." He nodded and you walked inside, putting the pictures in his room on his bed, spacing them out.
You walked back outside, watching him wash his car. "Think you missed a spot," you said. He glanced at you, turning the hose at you, getting your shirt wet. Your jaw dropped and he laughed, dropping his own jaw to mock you. He finished up, drying his car off and he made you move so he could put his car back into the garage.
He left the garage door open and got out of the car, wiping down his sweaty body. He walked over to you, wiping your face gently from where he sprayed you with hose water. He leaned down slightly, tilting your head up and kissed you. "Got ya somethin'," you said against his lips. He hummed, pecking your lips a few times before pulling away from you.
You grabbed his hand, walking into the house and leading him to his room. "If you're sticking something in my ass, I appreciate the sentiment babe, but you're not sticking anything up there. you're lucky I even put up with you spanking me." You laughed, shaking your head.
"Close your eyes," you said and made sure he shut his eyes before guiding him into the bedroom. You put him in front of the bed and moved so you were behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Open 'em," you said before kissing the birthmark on his shoulder.
He opened his eyes, letting them adjust for a few seconds before he picked up one of the pictures. He held it close to his face, looking at how prominent your features were.
You were laid out on the hood of his car, his shirt right below your breasts, your ass was on the hood, your legs slightly open. He whistled, putting it down gently before picking up the next one. You weren't in this one, but the window was foggy with a heart and two dots in the middle, he knew just from the distance between the dots what created them.
"I took that one myself," you said against his warm skin, your hand running down his toned stomach, your nails scratching at his happy trail that he couldn't be bothered to trim or shave off. He hummed, "That one might have to go in my office." He put it down, picking up a different one.
"Jackpot," he said, looking at the picture of you bent over his hood, your ass on display as you wore his favorite pair of heels. The shirt was wet, the hood of his car was wet, and the shirt was very much see-through, the shirt clinging to your breasts. He continued looking at the pictures and put one on his bedside, putting the others on his desk, mumbling about hanging them up in various places.
He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap. You laughed when you felt his erection, "I assume you like the pictures." He laughed, "Like is an understatement, babe," he said before peppering a few kisses to your jaw and behind your ear.
"Whatcha want in return, baby," he asked in your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe. You shivered at his voice, "Whatever you'll give me." He smirked against your skin, his teeth latching onto a spot on your neck as he began sucking at it, his tongue licking where his teeth marks were.
"Should fuck you on the hood of Baby Blue, that'll be for another day," he said, his hands gripping your ass. "Can't believe you did that, you fucking knew the reaction you would get, fuckin' minx." You laughed, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him.
You pulled away, looking at him, "You love it though." He hummed, "Guess so," he said as one of his hands moved before quickly slapping under your ass. He rubbed the spot, peering at you through his lashes. You rubbed his chin, eyes going to the little gray patches.
"Love these," you murmured, gently pulling on them. He hummed, kissing your skin, letting his lips wander to the top of your tits as he licked and sucked on the skin. You pulled his thick hair and he moved, a string of spit connecting his bottom lip to the top of your tit.
"I need you on my face," he said, his voice dripping with lust. That piqued your interest, you had never done that before. "Okay," you murmured. He helped you take off your clothes and he left your underwear on, moving you so you were laying on your back on the large bed. He kissed down your body, grabbing the elastic in between his teeth as he pulled the fabric down, laying a quick kiss to your clit as it peeked between your folds.
He moved so he was laying down in his boxers, throwing the pillows to the ground. "Come 'ere, pretty baby." His voice alone could get you off. He put his hand out to you, a few rings decorated his veiny hands along with a couple of tattoos, miniscule ones that held very little meaning.
You took his hand as he guided you to hover over his face. His hands grabbed your thighs as he looked up at you. "Sit down." You lowered yourself just a little and his eyes squinted, "Sit, don't hover. I don't do that hovering shit. If you suffocate me, then great. Put it on my headstone to let everyone know I went out eating your pussy." You gasped at his vulgarity before lowering yourself more, feeling his nose and he pulled you down the rest of the way.
His tongue was immediately licking up the slick that was dripping from you. Your right hand sat on his forehead as your fingers tangled into his roots, your left hand going to the headboard and holding onto the metal bar.
Two of the straps from the under the bed restraints were threaded through the bars. Your head was already fuzzy as he licked your clit. The sounds were loud, he was moaning against you, the vibrations stimulating your clit. It was messy, you knew that when you heard the squelch of two fingers entering you.
"Billy," you moaned, gripping his hair tighter, your head falling forward to the black wall. Your hips rocked and he pushed you up just a little to catch his breath and speak, "There you go, fuck my face, baby," he said before kissing your thigh, using one of his hands to steadily fuck you with as he lowered you back down with the other.
His teeth lightly grazed your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more. You were sure you were getting beard burn and simultaneously bleaching his beard, but that was a problem for another day. "Billy, please. Oh fuck," you whimpered, moving your hips a little faster, doing your best to keep your composure, while also trying to be mindful of the death grip you had on his hair.
He let go of your clit, kissing it as he pulled his fingers out of you, his hand grabbing your ass and you felt your slick on your warm skin. His tongue licked up the mess you had created. Your thighs were shaking a little and he moved his lips back to your clit, humming around it, his tongue flicking over it a few times.
"Fuck," you moaned loudly, your head going back as your back arched. Your hips slowly slowed down and once they were at a complete stop, you put your head against the wall, trying to catch your breath. He snickered, gently pushing you off of his face, letting you gently fall onto the mattress.
"Thoroughly fucked out, just the way I like it," he said as he wiped his beard. You glanced at him, "We're so doing that again." He laughed, "Whatever you say, honey." You leaned over and kissed him, your nails going down his chest as you snapped the elastic of his boxers onto his skin.
He shivered, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss, holding you as close as possible. You helped him take his boxers off, your hand immediately gripping his base, the curls decorating it brushed against your hand. The silver balls that decorated his shaft were warm in your hand and he shivered.
The Jacob's Ladder piercing was something stupid Billy got when he was eighteen. His tattoo was to rebel, but so was the piercing. It went from his base to right under his tip, and it provided the best stimulation for you. The first time you slept with him, the same night you lost your virginity to him, you were scared the piercing would hurt you and ripped stuff it wasn't meant to.
He assured you nothing would rip besides your hymen, not once have you regretted losing your virginity to him, you practically begged for another round right after just to feel the jewelry rub against your g-spot.
"Billy," you murmured against his lips before gently biting his bottom lip, pulling a little so it snapped back. He hummed, his eyes fluttering open as he looked at you. Your heart raced with love and lust, needing him inside of you, but also needing to be in his arms, safe and sound.
"Tell me what you need, and you'll get it," he said, his hand rubbing your back. The moment was the calm before the storm, the two of you knew that and you were both soaking in it. "Just need you, all of you," your voice was a little whiny, filled with desperation. He softly hushed you, still rubbing your back.
"Get in whatever position you want." You nodded, moving so you were on your knees, your chest pressed into the mattress. Billy grabbed one of the pillows from the floor. He reached under your chest, gently bringing you up as he put the pillow down so your chest wouldn't hurt that badly. He grabbed the velvet lined restraints, "Can we use these?" You quickly nodded. He leaned over you, pressing his hips against your butt as he grabbed your chin, tilting your head back, "Words baby, you know I need verbal consent." You nodded once again, "I wanna use them."
He nodded, leaning down and kissing the tip of your nose before pecking your lips and he let your chin go as he unwound the restraints from the headboard. You happily put your arms out and he chuckled, taking your left wrist and sliding it through the restraint as he tightened the plastic buckle which in turn tightened the cuff around your wrist.
"Flex your fingers for me." You flexed your fingers. "Do they tingle?" You shook your head, "Uh uh." He nodded, doing your right wrist, doing the same blood flow check. He kissed your cheek and moved behind you once again. He grabbed your hips, moving your knees so your ass was higher in the air.
He leaned over you, kissing the dip between your shoulder blades and you hummed in delight. He moved your legs a little, spreading them a little more and he held the small of your back. "You ready for me, baby?" You nodded quickly and he laid a smack to the side of your ass. "Words, come on. I'm not telling you again." You shivered at his words, feeling a steady leak of your arousal.
"I'm ready, please. I need you so much." He chuckled, gently patting the side of your ass that he had spanked. "Sound so pretty when you're begging," he murmured, dipping his head down to kiss your lower back before he straightened up.
You felt his tip at your entrance and hummed, letting your eyes close as you rested your head on your arms. He slowly pushed in before groaning when you tightened around him. "Baby, relax. I know it's deeper in this position, but I can't move, gripping me like a fuckin' vice."
He licked the pad of his finger, reaching around your thigh and pressing his finger to your clit, rubbing small circles on it. You whined a little, kicking your feet at the unexpected stimulation. He kept pushing his hips forward, "There we go, doing so fucking good baby." You moaned his name when his hips were pressed against your ass.
He used a slow pace at first, letting you get used to everything before he quickened his thrusts. Your fingers gripped the black straps of the restraints. "Billy, oh fuck please," you moaned, your eyes were shut tight. His hands dug into your hips, his fingers would leave bruises, but you didn't care.
"That's it, good girl. Taking my cock so good, huh?" He saw the way your hands were shaking as you grasped the black straps tightly. "Easy baby, ease up on your grip. I don't want you getting hurt," he said as he rubbed the side of your body. He waited until your fingers were detached from the strap before starting his fast pace once more.
He felt the way you clenched around him and he let out a moan of your name. "Go ahead, let go for me." You kicked your right foot, moaning into the mattress as you did what he asked of you. Everything went numb as Billy slowed his pace so as to not overstimulate you too quickly. "There we go, that was good." You lifted your head out of the mattress, your mascara and eyeliner were fucked, but Billy still thought you were the most ethereal woman in the world.
"Keep going, please." He chuckled, rubbing your back. "Didn't plan on stopping," he said before starting his pace back up. It was messy, his skin was sticking to yours, his balls were slapping against your wet clit, in turn making the skin on his sac wet. "God baby, you're so good to me," he moaned, lowering his head slightly to catch his breath and trying to keep his composure.
The way he moaned made you clench again, the loud squelches he was pulling from your body had filled the room with your pretty moans and his desperate moans and grunts. He leaned over you, kissing your back. His pace slowed, but the thrusts were still hard and deep.
They were deep and hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs, each thrust you let out little "uh" sounds. "That's it, making such pretty sounds for me." You whimpered, moving so you were resting on your cheek. He took this chance to move his own head and kiss you. It wasn't the most comfortable position, especially for his back and knees, but he would do anything for you, even if it would cause him pain.
"I love you," he said as he looked into your eyes when he pulled his lips away from yours. You smiled, you were cock drunk and you were pretty sure you looked stupid, but that didn't matter. "I love you too," you said. You attempted to lift your hand up to push his hair out of his face, but the straps got in the way. He moved his right hand to the strap and loosened the plastic buckle and you pulled your arm out of it, pushing his sweaty hair back and you admired him.
Despite this being one of the most intense sexual sessions the two of you have had, it was still filled with love and admiration. His thumb rubbed at the side of your lip, kissing you once more before straightening himself out, giving you a few thrusts that were fast paced. The headboard knocked against the black painted wall, a few chips of paint falling.
You whimpered, attempting to shut your legs. He slowed down, "Talk to me baby," he said as he checked in with you. "Do I need to stop?" You shook your head, "Sensitive." He nodded, "I know baby, I know." He rubbed your back, going back to his slow and hard thrusts. Your ass jiggled against his body, and he watched, deeply enamored with the way your body moved.
He knew by the way you were clenching that you were about to have another orgasm. "Give me another one, babe. Doing so good for me," he praised you. He talked you through your high, rubbing your back and kissing your hot skin.
He slid your arms out of the restraints, tossing the straps backwards as they fell behind the headboard. He gently pulled out, seeing the mess on him and you as he gently rolled you over. He leaned over you, his hand on your face as you felt the pressure of his body on yours. "Hi baby," he said softly, pecking your lips. "Think you can give me one more?" You quickly nodded, not wanting this to end. "Alright babe, just lay there and look pretty for me."
You nodded again and he moved your legs apart, whistling softly. Your clit was puffy, your inner thighs were wet and your slit was steadily dribbling arousal. "Fucking shit," he moaned. He felt his cock twitch. "Where am I cummin' baby?" You hummed, "Inside," you said. Your voice was a little raspy from all of the moans.
He nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist before sliding into you once more. You were unbelievably wet, and you were sure that when your head cleared up you would be embarrassed at the noises your pussy made, but right now you couldn't even think about it.
He began rocking into you, using slow and deep thrusts. You held his face and kissed him before your hands made their way to his back, digging your nails in and scratching as far down as you could reach.
He hissed a little into your mouth before moaning softly. His hips stuttered a little before he stopped, taking a few seconds to collect himself. Billy had a saying in the bedroom, "Good girls cum come first." It was written right above the bed with metal that he had welded together.
He moved, straightening his posture so he could have a good grip on you as he began thrusting like his life depended on it. Your head went back as you gripped one of the metal bars of the headboard. "Let me have it, come on baby." The squelches got louder and something else alarmed you, a warm sensation in your lower belly. "Billy, wait, stop." Alarms went off in his head as he immediately stopped. "What happened? Did I hurt you?" You quickly shook your head, "I think I have to pee," you mumbled. You were embarrassed.
"Hey," he softly said, "It's not pee, baby. I promise, just let yourself go, alright?" You nodded, trusting him. He held your hand, kissing your knuckles before resuming his pace. He watched the way your body twitched and tensed, noting the way your tits were jiggling. You let out a moan that sounded like a borderline cry and he looked down where the two of you were connected.
He watched the way your clit pulsated right before the small gush happened. He moaned, feeling your squirt hit his lower stomach as he twitched inside of you. "Oh fuck baby, I'm cumming." He bowed his head down, his thrusts were sloppy as he came inside of you. It was warm and you moaned with the twitch of his cock.
When he was done, he gently pulled out, watching as the white substance had pooled to your entrance. He used two of his fingers to fuck it back into you before pulling them out. He moved up to you, tapping your lips and you opened your mouth, accepting the fingers before greedily sucking them.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, shivering as your teeth grazed his pads. He leaned down and kissed you, pulling you close to his body. He did a quick inspection, seeing if he was too rough with any part of your body. He rubbed the little bruises on your hips and your inner thighs.
"I'll be right back." He got up, slipped into a pair of shorts as he walked into the bathroom, wet a rag with warm water as he rung it out before walking to you and wiping you down. He tossed the rag in a hamper and pulled you close. "Gotta pee," you said. He nodded, "I know baby, just lay here for a few minutes to calm down." You nodded, holding onto him and he kissed the top of your head.
"Was I too rough?" You shook your head, snuggling up to him so your head was right under his chin as you closed your eyes, letting your body get warmed up by his. Your breathing evened out after a few minutes and he laughed, knowing you had fallen asleep. He rubbed your back gently as he grabbed the blanket he had thrown onto the floor as he covered the two of you up with it. "I love you," he murmured, holding you close as his hands gently kneaded at some of your muscles.
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wittyminds · 1 month
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More Than A Feeling
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This was just a random idea to distract me from revising for my exams. I'm slightly obsessed with him at the moment and just wanted to write some fluff that would make me even more sad than i already am. I know I also said that I would be doing a bucky barnes fic but... i got distracted and now can't commit to writing it. I'll probably write it eventually but i can't bring myself to do it right now.
I was also listening to More Than A Feeling by Boston when writing this so... it stuck.
Just a small fic of Steve Harrington and a bookworm reader girlfriend who is also Dustin's sister after their first time and the "chaos" that ensues.
Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, Suggestive, Both Steve's and Reader's 'first time'
Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
Dustin couldn't understand how it all happened or exactly when you stopped disliking the King of Hawkins but he was convinced it would all end in heartbreak. He did like Steve Harrington after he protected them all from all the dangers they had faced over the years. But dating his sister was a different matter.
To say he is overprotective of you would be an understatement.
You had spent your entire life protecting him from bullies and assholes and now it was his turn to keep you from the possible heartbreak that was Steve Harrington.
So when he peaked through the door to your room and saw the two of you curled round each other fast asleep, he couldn't help but feel upset and scared for you. It clearly wasn't the first time Steve had snuck through the window without anyone but you knowing and the thought brought disgust to his gut. He had invited his friends round as your parents were away. He now regretted the idea and wished he had agreed when Mike suggested his house instead.
He wasn't being dramatic, he had every right to believe that you could end up like all the other girls.
Before he could wake you both up, though, his friends had pulled him back and disappeared back into his room to discuss what they had just seen.
Steve, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.
Your head rests on his chest, arms wrapped round his body. A sheet covers you and he brings his hand up and down your arm gently as he gazes at you asleep. He has been like this since he woke up to see you curled round him, hair a mess, no makeup on and breathing softly onto his bare chest.
What had happened the night before had surprised you both, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been ready from the second date with you but you had made it clear that you wanted to wait. He had thought he was ready when he dated Nancy but when the time came, he froze and ruined the moment.
But now, here you were snuggled up close with memories of the night before playing through your dreams as your boyfriend watches over you lovingly. He can't remember ever loving anyone as much as he loves you and all he wants is to tell you, and keep you by his side till the day he dies.
Just as his hand stops grazing your arm, you roll over off of him and wriggle onto your side, still facing him. Your lips pull up into a brief smile before dropping again. He shifts his body onto his side too and props his head onto his arms, watching as your eyebrows pull together and your eyes flutter open slowly.
A huge grin falls onto his lips as you look up groggily with a bashful smile.
"Morning, beautiful." His voice is still husky from sleep and a thousand butterflies take flight in your stomach.
"Morning." You rub a hand over your eyes to try and wake up properly, to no avail.
"I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry." He lifts his head off his arm to give you a playful look that is sleepily returned.
He gets up from the bed and tries to track down his trousers and socks before perching on the edge of the bed to give you a soft kiss that lingers longer than usual.
His blushing face then leaves your eyesight and you roll onto your back with a disbelieving laugh, quickly covering your mouth to stifle it.
You were still questioning how the two of you were even together, total opposites from different sides of the school. The King and a bookworm.
You suppose, in a weird way, you could thank the horrors that you had both witnessed over the past two years for bringing you together. But you don't want to give the Upside-Down any credit for your happiness given it was a hell like no other.
You can still remember how much you had disliked him at first, the way he acted, the way he spoke to people, the way he made you feel about yourself. His "friends" had given you hell for years and when he had finally stood up to them and broken up with Nancy, you had seen the better version of Steve Harrington who laughed and smiled and actually cared without any fear of being judged.
As you lie on your back, you cans still feel the gentle press of his hands on your skin, hear the whispered words "Are you sure?". Still feel his face buried in the crook of your neck, hear the hushed laughter when he first appeared over you with a bashful "Hello."
It couldn't have been more perfect and you could smile forever in your new bliss.
You wrestle your way out of the warmth of the bedsheets, grabbing the closest article of clothing to you: his navy sweater from yesterday. The sleeves fall over your hands and you bunch it up in fists as you open the door and walk into the hallway.
Dustin's door is still closed and you creep past, so as not to wake him. He wouldn't quit poking fun at you or Steve if he saw you now so it was better to be safe than sorry to leave him sleeping in. It was the holidays anyway.
You're suddenly startled by the sound of pots and pans crashing against each other, followed by the sound of a terribly hidden string of curses as whoever spilled the contents of the cupboard tried (and failed) to catch them.
When you reach the kitchen door, you can see Steve busy at the stove, pots and pans sitting haphazardly on the counter and floor. Without a word, you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him attempt to work the stove. A smile plays on your lips and eventually, you clear your throat quietly to get his attention.
He whips round, only to notice that it's you.
"Morning... again." You murmur softly, still smiling.
God, it was like you slept with a hanger in your mouth or something.
"Morning," He turns away as his cheeks blush bashfully, and you can't help but feel warmth at the thought of making Steve Harrington blush. The thought nearly turns your legs to jelly and you walk over to the stove to keep them working.
You swat his hands away from the buttons with a laugh and stand in his place to turn the stove on, hearing his almost silent "Oh." as you show him how to work it.
His arms snake their way round your middle and his chin falls onto your shoulder, your face heating at the contact. He places soft kisses on your shoulder, then your neck, and you run your hands along his forearms.
"Steve." You feel him hug you tighter at his name and his hum of acknowledgement is disguised by another kiss, "Last night..."
You trail off and he laughs against your neck, moving away to turn you round. His nose scrunches as your hands move to the ends of his hair out of habit and he sways slightly.
"Yeah?" You can tell he's wanting you to talk more and you repress a sigh.
"I just wanted to say I..." You can't seem to finish the sentence as you gaze into his eyes, the whole scene perfectly homely. You didn't want to ruin it with a love confession that might be rejected.
He watches you with curious smirk and you open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off with a sweet, slow kiss.
Your hands move further into his hair and his pull you closer by the waist. More memories of meaningful kisses and the whispered confessions whilst pressed close together from last night resurface in your mind. The feeling of his hands, his lips, just his touch made your head spin and your forehead falls onto his, not breaking the kiss.
"Oh come on!"
Your brother's voice startles you both and you break apart, Steve keeping a hold of your waist.
Dustin stands in the doorway, his friends lingering in the hallway, awkwardly watching the scene playing out. You feel your face burn and turn to your boyfriend for help, but he seems entirely unfazed.
"A bit of privacy wouldn't kill you, Henderson." Steve grumbles, ignoring the disgust on Dustin's face.
"I live here." Dustin replies matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
"And..?" You can't help but hold back a laugh at your boyfriend's oblivion and he pulls a face at you which lets the laughter escape.
Dustin pulls a different kind of face, "Well, when you two are finished grossing everyone out, I'd like some pancakes."
You roll your eyes and walk over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to turn him round. He begins to protest but gives up when you give him a sharp pinch on either side.
"Just go upstairs and do whatever it is you do together there," You give him your most serious look you can muster with a stomach full of butterflies.
"Fine," He stomps up the stairs, "But I'm serious about those pancakes!"
You watch his friends follow him up, quickly noticing the two girls and yell up a quick "Leave the door open!" before turning to return to the kitchen.
Max stops and gives you a look that makes you freeze and eye her curiously.
"Yes?" You ask quietly.
"I was just thinking that the sweater is real subtle." Her eyes move along the sweater and you shift uncomfortably under them.
"I-I don't know what you mean..."
She snorts out a laugh and runs up the stairs.
"Nice hickey, by the way!" She yells after her and you throw a shoe up the stairs that hits her legs.
"Teenagers." You mutter under your breath and turn back to the kitchen to see Steve leaning against the counter, a smirk playing on his pretty lips.
"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Harrington?" Your voice is quiet and he closes the distance between the two of you in four long strides.
His thumb grazes your chin, pushing your face up to his before he kisses you again, a contented sigh escaping him. Once again, your hands find his messy hair and he grips the sweater with a little more power than before.
"God, I love you." His words are almost hidden against your lips but you freeze and pull away slightly, out of breath from both the kiss and his confession.
A blush creeps up his face and you can't help but smile before giving him another quick peck on his lips, relief filling you.
How can you have thought this man didn't love you enough to say it when he had blushed and grinned the entire morning. You love him to Jupiter and back a thousand times and realise, you had always really known he feels the same.
So, when the words leave your mouth and leave him a blushing mess, you can't help but know that this is your future.
You and him.
"I love you too."
***
A/N
I really hope you liked it and just a reminder that my requests are open via messages so just ping me a message if you have a request for any of the characters from my first post. Thank you! xx
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floredaqueen · 6 months
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Expuesto
Art made by meee♡♡
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Thanks to the lovely @buckysgrace for the ideaaa♡♡
Hope you ♡¡¡ENIOY!!♡
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venusjaynie · 3 months
Text
not him
billy hargrove x pregnant!reader
summary: you're 8 months pregnant and billy couldnt be happier. but even though he's excited for your little ball of sunshine to finally make his appearance, he's got some concerns.
warnings: neil hargrove, mentions of past abuse, mentions of child abuse, billy has abandonment issues and nightmares, some swearing, insecurity from both reader and billy hurt/comfort, lots of fluff (of course)
A/N: i think billy would be so worried about being a dad when you have your first kid. he doesn't want to end up like neil, and he doesn't want you to have to leave like his mother did :(
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When you first told Billy that the two of you are having a baby, he was freaked as fuck.
You were only 18 at the time, and he had just turned 19. The both of you always said you would wait until marriage to have children, and you didn't really have the money to support a kid at the time. Neither of you were prepared for the pregnancy happen, your being apartment cramped enough as it is with just the two of you, but as scared as you may have been, there was still an overwhelming amount of joy that took over you.
It took a couple of days for Billy to let the news sink in, and when he really thought about it, he was ecstatic. Now the excitement hasn't necessarily subsided for Billy, per say. It's just that, along with all that bubbling anticipation, he's doubting his skills of fatherhood, because he literally doesn't have any. Not yet anyway.
Billy doesn't plan to open up about his concerns, mainly because he's embarrassed, but also because you have more than enough on your plate being pregnant and all, and he doesn't want to burden you with some silly insecurities which he thinks will go away after a few weeks.
He's wrong.
They don't go away: if anything, they get worse. The closer you get to having your baby, the more worried he becomes. He's had to sleep on your couch, or not at all, because he's woken up in cold sweats after nightmares about Neil, or sometimes, he'll dream that he's the one mistreating his kid. Billy doesn't tell you, though. When he has these dreams, he wakes up, kisses your forehead gently, and tip-toes to the living room, where he sits on the couch and calms himself back down, before curling up on the soft seat and trying to get a couple more hours of sleep in before you wake up.
Billy thinks what he's doing is for the best, but what he doesn't realise is that every time you wake up in bed without Billy beside you, the rejections stings like a bee.
Pregnancy has had a real knock on your confidence, and you often worry Billy doesn't see you the way he used to. He had been more than supportive in every way, until the couch crashing started. You had been about 5 months pregnant, your bump very visible, and everything had been fine, until you went to bed. At around 4 in the morning, you had felt nauseous, and woke up to tell Billy you were going to the bathroom, but when you rolled over to face him, he wasn't there. Initially, you panicked, and you got up and left your bedroom to look for him, but as you got closer to the living room, however, you heard the TV quietly playing, and saw Billy fast asleep on the couch. You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes at the sight of him being so content sleeping somewhere else instead of with you, but you just blamed that on your heightened hormone production and emotions. You didn't mention it to him the next day, thinking it was a one off occasion, but soon enough you found him on the couch 3 times a week, and then it was almost every night.
After 3 months of him sleeping on the couch from the early hours of the morning, you decide enough is enough. So you choose to confront him when he comes home from work.
At around 6, the time Billy's shift is over, you go to the kitchen and check on the dinner you've prepared. During your maternity leave you've taken to cooking and baking most days, and you're glad you have. It gives you something to do, and you've gotten pretty good at it, or so Billy says anyway.
Checking on the lasagna that's in the oven, you have to wipe your sweaty palms on your apron. You're honestly quite nervous to confront him. As much as you're ready to get to the root of the situation, you're terrified that he's going to turn around and tell you that he doesn't want this, doesn't want you, anymore.
It's 6:15 when Billy walks through the door, and he's not empty handed. He has a pink bouquet in his clutch, and you don't fail the notice how, even after all the bunches of flowers he's bought you over the years, the gesture still makes your stomach do a flip-flop.
"Hey, sweetheart." He doesn't hesitate to make his way to you and plant a big kiss on your lips, and you smile at him. It doesn't quite reach your eyes, however, and Billy notices. "You okay?" You nod in response. He eyes you wearily.
"I'm okay, babe, just tired." He doesn't believe you at all, but he doesn't push.
"These are for you. I saw them on my way this mornin' and they reminded me of you. Picked them up on the way back."
"Thank you, you're very sweet."
"Only for you." Usually a cheesy line like that would have you blushing and giggling at him, but not today. He doesn't even get so much as a breathy chuckle in return, just a half-hearted smile. And with that, he knows something is wrong. You go to turn back to the food you're preparing, but Billy stops you. "Hey, look at me." You do as he says, and he immediately notices the unshed tears in your eyes. "Baby, what's going on?" He reaches for your hand, and you don't pull away.
"Nothing, nothing. I'm alright, just hormones." You try to smile through your tears, but you think it probably comes out as more of a grimace than anything else.
"I don't believe you one bit. Tell me what's wrong, sweetheart."
"Billy, I'm really fine, just drop it." You say, snapping slightly.
He drops it.
You hand him his dinner plate and he makes his way to the table. You do the same, and Billy starts his usual retelling of his day. As much as you try to listen and engage, you're too busy thinking about what you're going to say to him, and Billy notices.
"Honey? Are you listening?" His concerned voice snaps you back into reality and you realise you haven't been paying attention.
"Sorry, Billy. Yes, I'm listening. Just zoned out for a second." He raises an eyebrow at your response.
"Okay, what's going on? Are you tired? Nauseous?"
"No, no it's not that. It's, uh, I just-" You stop yourself with a sigh, thinking it's best to pull yourself together a bit before you have this conversation. Taking a deep breath, you bite the bullet, "Why don't you sleep in our bed anymore?"
Billy looks shocked, then confused, then guilty, then a whole mix of other emotions that you're too tired to decipher.
"You noticed, huh?"
"Yeah, I noticed! Billy, you haven't slept a full night in our bed for 2 months. What the hell is wrong? Am I that repulsive to you that you can't even bare to sleep in the bed with me?" You know that's just the hormones talking, you didn't mean to say that, but you're curious anyway.
"What? No, of course not. That's not it at all." Billy's quiet when he talks, almost shameful. "Is that really what you think?" You nod. "Oh, god, honey, that's not what I think at all. You're beautiful. You've always been beautiful."
"Then why are you sleeping on the couch every damn night?"
"Baby, I-" He cuts himself off and rakes a hand through his hair, tugging a little out of stress. "C'mere, let's sit on the couch, 'kay?" He reaches for your arm, but you shy away from his touch, preparing yourself to be let down by what he has to say. Instead you walk over to your couch and Billy follows behind you like a kicked puppy.
Once settled on the couch, you don't say anything, waiting for Billy to explain his behaviour. He takes a deep breath, and stares at his hands, before speaking.
"I, uh- ever since we- Jesus Christ." His hand rakes through his hair again, and you can tell this isn't easy for him to say. Something in the back of your mind tells you that you were expecting the worst explanation, and that it isn't true, so you reach up and take his hand, linking your fingers with his and softly stroking your thumb on the back of his hand. He looks up at you, his eyes shining slightly.
"Take your time, it's alright. I'm in no rush." He sends you a small, grateful smile and does his best to blink back any tears threatening to leak from his eyes.
"You know how excited I am for our baby, right?" Billy says, and you nod your head. "Good. I'm so fuckin' stoked for us to have a kid. But for the past few months, I've been... having doubts." You're previously sympathetic looks contorts into one of confusion, and hurt. "Not those kind of doubts. Trust me, I wouldn't leave you to look after our kid all alone. I swear. I'm just seriously doubting my ability to be a dad."
"What's making you doubt yourself so much?"
"Neil." The name on Billy's tongue makes you still for a second. "I haven't been able to sleep lately because I keep having nightmares. And it's so stupid, 'cause I know he can't get me but I- God, I'm just so scared that I'm gonna turn out like him."
"You won't." Is all you say in reply.
"How do you know?" He asks quietly.
"Because I know you. I've known you since we were, what? 6?"
"5, actually."
"Exactly. Baby, I've known you forever, and I know that you're nothing like Neil. You wouldn't hurt a kid, and especially not your kid."
"But what if I get really angry and-" He cuts himself off with a hitch in his throat. "I don't wanna do something stupid, and I don't want my stupid actions to make you leave." He says the last part quietly, and it breaks your heart a little.
"Oh, Billy, is that what you're worried about? Me leaving?" He doesn't look at you, but you can tell by the way his mouth drops into a frown that he's confirming your suspicions. You can't help but wrap your arms around his neck, and he wraps his around your torso in response, gripping onto you like a vice. "I'm not gonna leave, and I'll tell you that as many times as it takes for you to believe me, alright?" Billy hugs you impossibly tighter. "And getting angry is normal. You've been angry at me before, right?" He nods into your neck. "And you've never laid a hand on me, right?" He nods firmly. "So I know you'd never hit our baby." You pull away from him slightly to look at him. His glassy eyes can't meet yours, so you press a kiss to his cheek and whisper, "I love you."
"I love you. So much." Billy's shaking hands make their way to your stomach, and he gently rubs in small circles with his thumbs. "I love you, too, kiddo." He manoeuvres his way to the floor into a crouching position and presses a soft kiss to your belly before standing back up and pulling you up with him. His arms snake around your waist and you lean into him, basking in the quiet of the moment, knowing that in a month there will be 3 of you. The thought makes your smile into Billy's chest, and you feel him kiss your temple lovingly. The guy couldn't hurt a fly, and you'll do everything you can to prove it to him, no matter how long it takes for him to believe you.
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i haven't even proof read this but here 🤗
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munsster · 6 months
Note
Hiiiiiiii loved your Eddie munson x wealthy!reader fix, I was wondering if you could do a billy Hargrove one? Thank you bby💗
billy with a wealthy s/o
A/N: its 100% giving reluctant allies to lovers gif cred: @selinasdalton
Warnings: partying, drinking/smoking, insults (mostly playful), pet names (sweetheart), implied sex
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the FIRST thing i thought of was reader rolling with the popular crowd
ie harrington, tommy, carol etc
and seeing billy for the first time at a party
honestly, he probably offers you a drink or better yet a smoke
and you’re disgusted (horny)
and he thinks he’s totally gonna score (you accepted his drink offer)
neither of you really remember how or when it started
you can never agree on an anniversary date
but you both know he fell first
mainly because he was absolutely floored by just how many insults you had ready in your back pocket
“the ball goes in the basket, airhead” “you look like rob lowe if he was a woman and a munch” “my dog could sink more free throws than you and he’s 20 years old”
honestly, he was a little flattered by your creativity
which is why he knew he had to get in your pants somehow
and the first time you invited him over to your house, you wouldn’t hear the end of it
“hey, richie rich, where’s your robot maid?”
“oh, it’s her day off”
“…”
“i’m kidding,” you tease, “she’s not a robot”
he does not know how to handle the amount of shit you spoil him with
“billy… i really like your necklace”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“i can buy you a new—”
“i dont need a new one, sweetheart”
and you don’t know how to handle the fact that he doesn’t want to be spoiled
but you eventually figure out how to be sneaky with it
making him lunches (con caviar), ‘accidentally’ misplacing his shoes so you have to buy him new ones, taking him to fancy barbershops and paying half the cost so it still seems like he’s paying the full price
some may say it’s manipulative. you say it’s loving.
and the first time he buys you a meaningful, mildly expensive gift, you tear up a little bit
you bringing him to the golf course and finding out 1) he’s really good at golf and 2) he is excellent cougar bait
not that you want the over 60’s hitting on your man, but it’s very sweet when they send him drinks and call him a handsome young man
you definitely encourage him to play into it with some “how are you young ladies this evening?” and “don’t you have to be 21 to sit at the bar?” action
he has his fun with it, but he really only does it ‘cause it makes you smile
would never BEG for anything…. but he DOES get really sad when you don’t bring him to the mall to watch you try on shoes or sweaters or whatever.
yeah, if there’s something he’d beg for, it’s that
he lives for the moment you walk out of the dressing room, do a twirl, and ask (like clockwork) “do you like it?”
his answer is always yes, but you claim to know the differences in his tone that indicate what he actually likes
sometimes, if he’s lucky, you’ll let him sit inside the dressing room. watching you change. watching you change.
he is the reason you’re both banned from sears at starcourt
the first really expensive watch you gift him is INSANE
it has like four dials and you said something about alligator leather and 18 carat gold
he can’t decide between wearing it on special occasions to preserve its value or never taking it off because he loves you
when you do stay at his house, usually no ones home
but you have met max
and she likes to stay away from you
but you took her to get a new skateboard and you think that might’ve helped her warm up to you
just a smidge
now she lets you gossip about stupid boys and watch shitty action movies with her
she even promised she would go as croft’s robin for halloween if you swore you’d go as wilson’s batman
that was an interesting halloween for billy
your mansion house has this shiny ass gramophone in one of the downstairs offices
and you told billy that the last thing that had played on it was a glenn miller ‘best of’ album
and that was just not good enough for billy
so one night, he brought over his twisted sister vinyl and convinced you to dance with him while what you don’t know blasted through the brassy pavillon
he also may or may not have convinced you to make out with him while the rest of the record played
even though you drive a brand new, cherry red benz (convertible, he might add), you still love it when he drives the two of you in his camaro
but you also let him drive your car whenever he wants. and he wants to most of the time.
in fact, he’s pretty sure he drives your car more than you do
he also loves to let you dress him up
and do his hair (please practice that cute hairstyle you saw on him. he’ll think about your hands in his hair for hours on end)
even if youre just going on a chill diner date, you still drag him into your (now shared) walk-in closet and pick out these satin shirts and pressed slacks and the shiniest shoes he’s ever seen
but of course, most of your dates are lavish and breathtakingly creative, anyway, so he’s already dressed accordingly
his new catch phrase is something along the lines of “what happened to eating somewhere normal. like pizza hut”
sometimes, his only requirement is “as long as there’s no chandelier”
you flatter him so often, he gets grumpy on days you forget to call him handsome (or pretty boy, which has really grown on him)
typically, he wouldnt go for all the fuss and feathers, but he likes to see you happy.
and boy, does prettying him up make you happy
seriously, you get the wildest look on your face. it’s fulfilling enough that billy feels safe to say he’s content being your ken doll forever
if you’d let him
masterlist
242 notes · View notes
ashes-writing · 2 years
Text
all or nothing pt II | stranger things ; b.hargrove
A/N ; Listen.. I was not expecting to have another part so soon but when this idea came, I had to roll with it. So, this is the part in which Billy realizes reader is the only female in a family of males (i realize I mentioned readers mom the previous post but apparently, she is deceased, but anyway.. ) and.. yeah. More stubbornness. More Billy, being equally stubborn.
I feel like this one is gonna get really... intense.
Pairing ; Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader
Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; all or nothing pt I can be found by clicking. Highly suggested you read that one first and then come back here. Just so you have a sense of what's happening. This is set in season 2 BUT BUT... as I said last night -and in the other stuff area of the other reader x character stranger things works I've done, there will be no Upside Down + it's unholy terrors, this is basically like.. slice of life heavy on the intensity and maybe some angst in this case. So no.. Billy won't be dying. And his character may or may not go through a few.. Growth spurts because I felt like it could've happened if he'd been left on the show. So.. liberties have been taken, read at your own risk.
Tag List ; @musichealsscars is the only person on my actual Stranger Things tag list presently. I'll throw a tag out here to @rampagewriting -- feel free to ignore if you like bb. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Stranger things , please let me know or add yourself -> here.
Warnings ; Older and younger brothers + meeting the father, Billy's being stubborn as per usual, reader is equally stubborn, a little angst in the form of reader's not so long ago heartbreak and rumors, Carol being a b*tch about Reader, and just.. Nothing serious, tbh. OH YEAH. AND TITS. TITS ARE MENTIONED. Listen, this chapter is.. Basically chaos.
Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.
I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.
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The bacon is burning, you can smell it when you roll over in bed. As you start to wake up, the usual morning chaos that is your family and all their noises spill in through the partial crack in your door which flies open unceremoniously with your youngest brother Abel hurrying in.
You roll away from him and try and sweep your arm out to keep him out of licking range because he likes to lick your face to wake you up most mornings. “Abel, kid, no.. Not today, demon.” you grumble as you try and shove your head beneath a pillow. From the wide open door, your older brother Jackson throws the bra you left in the bathroom after your shower the night before right at you and it settles beside your hand. “Get the fuck up, sunshine.” Jackson yells, his voice grating your last nerve because it’s early and all you wanna do is sleep. Finish out the dumb little dream you were having about the way Billy’s hands felt on your ass or his mouth against yours.
“She’s not up yet?” your brother Mikey’s standing in the open door behind your older brother Jackson. “Jesus, what’s she gonna do, sleep all fuckin day? Dad! She’s not up yet! Can I get the cold water now?”
Your father laughs in the kitchen. “Leave your sister alone, you little shit. Get in here and eat. Grub is done.”
“Can you idiots fuck all the way off? I’m gonna get up. I mean, if you wanna see my ass when I get outta bed, by all means, idiots.” you call out to your brothers as you sit up with the plaid blanket on your bed wrapped around your upper body and you try to reach for the AC DC shirt you’d taken off at some point the night before when you got too hot.
Your brothers all bolt down the hall and you let the blanket drop so you have that little extra length to your arm span. After you tug on the thin oversized shirt you grab the jeans and tank top you’d laid out to wear the night before so you can put them on after your shower. And you make your way down the hall and pound on the bathroom door.
But it’s no use. Your younger brother Mikey is in the shower, the radio turned up so high and the shower running full blast, so he doesn’t hear the five times you pound at the door.
“Well fuck you then, little shit.” you roll your eyes and turn to go back into your bedroom to change.
The very familiar rumble of an engine catches your attention just as you’ve managed to put both legs in one leg of your jeans and you’ve nearly toppled over, just managing to catch yourself by the headboard on your bed to stay upright. You peek out through the tapestry that serves as a curtain over your bedroom window and as soon as you see Billy’s dark blue Camaro pull in behind your father’s square body truck, you flatten yourself against the wall and take a few deep breaths all while telling yourself that just because he’s shown up means nothing.
So he kept a promise. There’s no reason for your heart to be all fluttery. Or your stomach to be doing the lazy little flips that it is right now.
You discard the shirt you’d thrown on to walk down the hall to the bathroom and pull on the white tank top you’d planned to wear with your favorite flannel. The only problems is that right as you get your AC DC shirt off, the last thread of hope for the nail holding your tapestry in place over the damned window snaps and the tapestry falls away to one side.
And out in the car, Billy happens to glance up at this exact, precise moment. Not only can he see you totally nude from the waist up, but he can see the various rock and metal posters, the tarot card tapestry, the marijuana leaf tapestry and the christmas lights you have tacked up around the room for extra ambience. 
You don’t see him because you’re standing on the bed and trying to put the tapestry that’s just fallen down off  your window back in place because the old geezer across the gravel road is nothing if not a gross pervy old sort. You’ve just gotten the tapestry back in place when your oldest brother pounds on your bedroom door.
“Yo! You better not be asleep again, sunshine.”
“Fuck off, Jackson, you’re not the boss of me!” you stick out your tongue and flip off the closed bedroom door. You can hear him walking away, but just as you’ve flipped your head upside down and you’re trying to scrunch some mousse into your hair to tease it the way you like, the younger of your brothers, Mikey, he’s outside the door.
“Hey gremlin! You’ve got company. It’s a boyyyy.”
You tense up because all of your brothers and your father are nothing if not intimidating, especially when it comes to you.
“Dad’s gonna grill him and I’m gonna laugh my ass off.”
“Sissy! Your boyfriend is here!” Abel calls out through the door and you palm your face. “He’s not my boyfriend, champ. I’m comin, hold your horses, people.” you call out as you dig around for your left shoe in the chaos that is your room.
After you find the bold red Converse and slip both shoes onto your feet, you grab your backpack and rush out, hopefully before your brothers and your father bring down the Spanish Inquisition onto the head of Billy Hargrove.
And naturally, your brother Mikey is in awe because he hero worships the guy.
Your father is sizing Billy up and you wanna groan because you know exactly what he’s thinking and you know that when you finally get home from working the arcade after school, he’s going to give you a very long lecture.
“Hargrove… Hi. Uh, what are you doin here?” you drag your fingers through your hair as you tilt your head to look up at him, curious. “How’d you find me?”
Mikey’s grin is so big, he’s so proud of himself. “I’m in class with his sister.”
“Step.” Max and Billy say it in unison, glaring at one another quietly. Mikey laughs and shrugs. “She told me Billy wanted to come by today last night at the arcade so I told ‘er where we lived.”
You give him a dirty look when nobody’s paying attention and he gulps.
Yeah, he’s in for it just as soon as the two of you are out of school for the afternoon.
Mikey glances at your father. “He’s the best player on the basketball team, dad.”
This softens your father but only a little. He grins and claps a rough hand down onto Billy’s shoulder. “Basketball, huh? I played back in the day too, kid.”
Billy chuckles. And he’s shuffling his feet awkwardly, same as you. You almost want to laugh because the awkwardness he feels right now isn’t something he’s used to and you can tell. Also, you want to laugh harder because the awkwardness he feels right now is solely his fault.
You didn’t ask him to come by. You never even hinted that you expected him to.
You’d say you didn’t want him to either, but unfortunately, that’d be a lie.
“We should probably get going.” you speak up before your father can get all lost in his own glory days -or alternately, try to put the fear of God into Billy by telling him he’s ex-military and he may or may not have a few screws loose, and your father tosses you a brown paper sack.
“Peeled the orange for ya as usual, sunshine.” your father gives you a hug. Finally, you set off for school with Billy and Max. Almost the second you were all out in the yard, you laugh and give Billy a quiet and slightly apologetic shrug as if to remind him that he’s brought on the events of the morning to himself.
Billy opens the passenger door and Max slips into the backseat wordlessly. You raise a brow. “You could’ve kept your seat, Red.”
“It’s fine. You can sit there.” Max offers, studying you with an intent and curious look as you slip into the seat and settle in. Billy doesn’t blast the radio on the drive like he usually does just to keep her quiet. Instead, to Max’s surprise, the two of you are actually attempting a conversation. It’s full of awkward pauses and banter back and forth, but it’s a side of her stepbrother she doesn’t see come out often at all. As the Camaro pulls to a stop in front of Hawkins Middle, you get out to let Max out and she smiles at you before gathering her backpack and rushing through the doors to the school as if she’s been launched straight from a cannon.
You get back in and the short second or two it takes to get over to the high school from the middle school is filled with this heavy kind of silence. Metallica is playing quietly on the radio and you’re humming along, drumming your fingers against the passenger door.
“Y’know, you’re probably gonna fall like.. Four places in the whole popularity thing.. Right?” you question as the Camaro comes to a stop in the spot Billy’s chosen to be his.
Billy shrugs. Takes a drag from the cigarette he’s lit and laughs quietly. “I thought we talked about this last night, darling. Fuck ‘em.”
You shrug and laugh because that’s all you can do. The second you get out of the passenger seat you can feel the eyes of the collective whole of the female population of Hawkins High staring at the two of you. You stand taller.
The stares and the whispers aren’t new to you. They started when you were a kid, when your mom died and nobody really knew what to say. They continued through middle school when you got labeled a troublemaker, one of the bad kids. They’re still going now, only it’s different and honestly, you’d take the rumors about you circa middle school over the rumors going around about you now.
But you don’t care anymore because you’re over the small town mindset. And high school is bullshit. And you’ve got more important things to do than waste time worrying about what everybody’s saying about you behind your back.
It takes you by surprise when Billy casually slips an arm around you and pulls you against his side. Walks right up to Tommy, Carol and Steve Harrington as if this is nothing out of the norm. You can feel Carol watching you, dying to say something smart but a quick menacing smirk from you has the little smug look dropping right off her face because she’s probably just remembered the fight you two had on the playground all the way back in fifth grade.
The one your older brother had to break up.
“Who’s your friend, Billy?” Nicole gives you a dismissive once over. She’s already thinking of things to say about you when she gets Carol and Tina alone in the girls bathroom inside the building. You smirk right back at Nicole, looking dead into her eyes. Daring her to be brave enough to say it now, with her chest, in front of you.
Billy chuckles. He introduces you with that lazy and laid-back grin.
Carol gapes. “You’re shitting me, right? Her? This is the girl you gave the sunflower to?”
Billy’s all calm smiles. “Yeah.”
“We need to have a serious talk.”
Billy laughs and rubs his chin. “Right. When I ask your opinion, Carol, I’ll let you know.”
Every part of you wants to just walk away for his sake but you’re too damn proud and petty to do it. Walking away is going to make Carol and the rest of the so-called in crowd froth at the mouth and rush to gossip about how you’re obviously afraid.
And you’re honestly anything but.
You catch sight of some of your friends as they show up and you nudge Billy. “I’m gonna go now. Thanks for the lift?”
And you walk away, but it’s not without giving Carol one last smirk.
A smirk that has her practically seething.
And honestly, you can’t wait to hear the rumors she rushes back to start this time around.
Almost the second you’re standing at the locker where you friends usually congregate in the morning, your best friend Katie nudges you and nods towards Billy. “Did my eyes trick me or did you get out of Hargrove’s Camaro just a few minutes ago? Oh my god, you’ve gotta tell me everything.”
You shrug. “He gave me a lift, yes.”
“How does he smell?”
You gape at her and grimace. “Ew, what the hell kind of question is that? What’d y’ think I did, sniff the damn guy? I don’t know!” you laugh and your words trail off.
“So I was right. It wasn’t Keith that gave you the sunflower, was it?”
“Fiiine. It wasn’t Keith. But he’s up to something, K.” you turn and gesture in Billy’s direction discreetly, “ I can feel it in my bones.”
“I say just let it happen. Bad press is better than none at all.” Katie shrugs and you give her a playful shrug. “You’re crazy, K. Seriously insane.” you roll your eyes as you finally manage to pry open your locker door and change out the books you took home the night before for the books you’ll need for class.
You walk past Billy on your way to homeroom but his arm shoots out and you wind up smooshed against his side again. “I’ll see ya after class.”
You shrug. “Maybe.”
“I’ll see you after class.” Billy repeats and it’s firmer. That little roguish smirk playing at lips slightly bruised from the kiss at the arcade the night before.
“I mean, if you want to, who am I to stop you?” you smirk right back, holding his gaze. Defiant.
If he really wants to win you over, he’s going to have to learn that you’re not like the other girls at Hawkins. Or the other girls he knows.
You’ve already caved one time and the outcome was disappointing. This time around, you’re determined to play smarter. To make him do all the chasing and not to give in quite so easy under any circumstances.
Billy’s smirk grows. “See ya then, darling.”
“Whatever you say, Hargrove.” you shrug as you and Katie walk away, disappearing into the homeroom class you share together.
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eddiesbug · 2 years
Note
Billy x girlfriend reader who loves to ride him and is trying her absolute best to be quiet because Max and El are a few rooms down and afterward she makes dinner for them and El goes “We’re those happy screams” and Billy can’t stop laughing at her embarrassed expression😭
this was supposed to be short but it’s actually quite long i’m v sorry anon (GAH IM NOT HAPPY W THE ENDING BUT U KNOW IM POSTING ANYWAYS)
content warnings: smut 16+ (p in v), oral (m receiving) mild dacryphilia, (kind of) breathplay (??), face fucking, billy’s a lil bit soft for reader<33
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“F-fuck!” you squeal, head lolling as you bounce yourself with vigour onto Billy’s cock. His hands guide your hips at a brutal pace, lifting and dropping you back onto him until you’re crying.
His broad hand flies to cover your drooling mouth in an effort to keep you quiet; he grunts, cradling the back of your head with the other hand and pulling you to the juncture of his neck. He removes the hand from your kiss bitten lips as soon as he’s got you firmly fixed against his skin and you begin to mouth at his jaw, sucking, kissing, biting.
“Atta girl,” he murmurs lowly, clasping your hand in his as you grab for his hair. “‘ve got ya, calm down.”
“Feels too good,” you mumble, teary eyed. He coos mockingly, the gentle thumb that comes up to push away your tears contrasting his mean tone.
“My baby’s fucked dumb already?” You nod, too high on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you to register that he’s teasing. It’s not long until your legs ache and you start to slow, frustrated by how close you are but not quite being able to get there.
“‘s alright, just hold on to me,” Billy instructs, pushing you back and fucking up into you meanly. You try your utmost to keep quiet until Billy sticks three calloused digits down your throat, stretching your mouth to accommodate them. The action alone makes you clench around him; the vibrations of your moans against his fingers go straight to his cock. He laughs. “Fuckin’ slut, you like bein’ treated like a stupid whore?”
Your noises are high and strung out and completely incoherent; he slows and deepens his movements, hitting the sweet spot inside of you that has you turning white hot and seizing up.
“Mmh, cumm-ing…” you manage to choke out around his fingers.
You squirm and convulse, trying to push him away, but he fucks you through it, letting you pull cruelly at his curly locks as you thrash. Once your sounds grow short and sharp, he knows you’ve had enough and pulls out, tugging at his dick.
“In my mouth,” you breathe out. “Please.” He smirks, pulling you to the end of your bed so your tear streaked face hangs off of the edge. He grabs two fistfuls of your hair, pushing in until he hits the back of your throat.
“Shit, fuckin’ tight, jesus,” he swears, using your throat as a fleshlight. Every time you gag around him, he moans. “Oh, yeah. This keepin’ that slutty mouth quiet?”
You’d answer if you could, but you’re preoccupied with stifling your gurgling sounds as you gasp for air, nose pressed against his balls.
“Good girl, fuck, that’s it.” He pushes all the way in, holding your nostrils shut as he shoots his load straight down your throat with a stuttered moan. You slap at his thighs, your head growing fuzzy the longer he cuts off your air supply, until eventually he lets go, grinning as you crawl up the bed and gasp.
He sits himself next to you, opening his arms ever so slightly. It’s the most invitation you’ll get from him, so you take it, crawling into his lap. It’s quiet as you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his neck, until he breaks the silence with a,
“You did good.”
Your eyelids flutter and you give him a dopey smile; you startle when you feel his own arms wrap around you and tug your naked form closer. Cuddling is a completely new concept for him; he seems to enjoy being this close to you, almost as though you’re one person.
You give yourself a minute to enjoy his closeness, eyes shut as you doze quietly against him, and then you’re pushing yourself away despite his almost silent protests.
“Where are you going?” he asks as you pull your clothes back on, doing your best to hide the array of bruises littered over your skin.
“I told the girls I’d make them dinner, remember?” You snag one of his t-shirts and pull it over your head, inhaling his strong scent of cheap cologne and cigarettes.
“Yeah, I remember.” He stands and pulls his clothes back on, kissing your jaw.
It’s mostly quiet as you get to work on dinner for the girls. Billy sits and watches you from the table, lips quirking into a smile as you hop around, plating things up and setting the table.
You call the girls for dinner and they bound down the stairs eagerly, sitting opposite where you and Billy have situated yourselves. They eat in silence, every so often exchanging snickers that have you cocking an eyebrow.
“What’s so funny?”
El turns to face you, leaning forward slightly. Her eyes widen and her lips part as she whispers, as though the two of you are sharing a secret.
“Were those happy screams?”
You choke on a mouthful of pasta, hands flying to cover your stricken face. You can just about make out Billy’s smug, grinning expression from beside you and you elbow him. He laughs, leaning towards El.
“Yeah, those were very happy screams.”
“Billy, shut up!”
“What?”
You’re mortified, and you spend the rest of the meal dead silent, your face burning.
“Babe, it’s not a big deal,” Billy laughs, seemingly amused by your humiliation.
“Yeah, for you! Cos you can be all smug about it. It’s embarrassing for me!”
Max coughs, nudging your foot under the table.
“It’s okay. If it’s any consolation, we didn’t even hear that much.”
You hide your face, rigid as Billy tugs you into his lap. The rumble of his chest as he laughs makes you purse your lips primly and bat at his chest.
“You’re so mean!”
“It’s funny!”
8K notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 2 months
Text
Talk Shit, Get Hit
prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 5.4k+
note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.
warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.
PLEASE NOTE -
this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.
DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.
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Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.
However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.
The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.
Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.
Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.
And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.
It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.
You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.
He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.
Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.
He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.
So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.
That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.
You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.
However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.
It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.
Today simply hadn't been your day.
After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.
Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.
However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.
As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.
Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.
Keyword: most.
Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.
Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.
You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.
"The fuck you want, Brittany?"
"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"
"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."
Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."
"Excuse me?" You snapped.
"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."
You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"
"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"
"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."
"Excuse me, what?"
"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."
Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."
"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."
Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."
"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."
She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.
You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"
Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.
Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.
"FIIIIIIGHT!"
"GIRL FIGHT!"
"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"
Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.
In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"
"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"
He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"
"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "
Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.
"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"
He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).
Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.
"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.
"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.
"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "
"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"
"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.
"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"
Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"
"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.
However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"
"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.
Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.
"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.
"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"
"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."
"Might be."
"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"
"It doesn't matter, Billy."
"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."
"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."
Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"
"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."
"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"
"Well, you're not even letting me try!"
"'Cause it's redundant!"
"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"
Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."
"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"
"I told you, they approached me."
"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."
"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.
"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."
"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."
"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."
"There's no point - "
"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"
"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."
"I'd like to understand how this happened."
"It won't change anything."
"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"
You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."
"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."
Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.
"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"
You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."
"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."
"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."
"Right, okay..."
"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."
Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."
"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."
"We'll get you outta it."
"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."
"You said she swung first?"
"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."
"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."
You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."
"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."
"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."
"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."
"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"
"Nah, they'll probably find you - "
The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.
"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.
He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.
"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.
"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."
"No?"
"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."
"See? That's good, huh?"
"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."
Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."
Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."
"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."
You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."
"Something else happen?"
"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."
"You reported your mom?"
"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."
Billy frowned, "Jesus."
"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."
"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.
"What about Neil?"
"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."
"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."
Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.
When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.
You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.
"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.
"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.
"No, but I could've done more."
You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"
"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."
"What good would that do?"
"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."
"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"
"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."
"You already do, baby."
"Let me do more, princess."
"You can't fight every battle for me."
"You could let me try."
"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."
"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"
"I wouldn't know."
"Never had a boyfriend before?"
"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."
"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."
"Ain't no other choice."
"You could let me in more..."
"You're one to talk."
He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."
"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."
"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."
You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."
"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."
"You're so romantic."
"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."
You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Stranger Things masterlist
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unamused-boss · 2 months
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Post Sex Snacks
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Billy Hargrove x Harrington Reader
I thought this would be cute... No smut (sorry) Short but Fluffy
Summary: You and Billy get a little hungry after your hours of fornication. In the hour of hunger you find out that your boyfriend is quite the cook.
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The past few hours have been amazing. Like actually. You and Billy had been going at it for three whole hours. The time is now 5 o'clock, you have homework you need to do but your legs are to sore to move.Currently you are laying on Billy's chest taking in the warmth he is giving off. The comfort you were in was heavenly.
"You okay?" Billy asked. He's never been this comfortable when hooking up with someone. Usually he is trying to get out of there as fast as possible, but with you he felt calm. He wanted to be around all the time, if he wasn't it felt like a sickness.
"Yeah, I'm just hungry..." You sighed snuggling deeper into his chest.
"Well why didn't you say so?" Billy said as he got up an put some boxers and pants on. You looked to him in confusion. 'What is he talking about?' you thought.
"What do you mean?" You asked.
"I'll cook you something." Billy said simply. You still look at him confused. "What?"
"What do you mean, what?" You sassed at him playfully. "We just had sex for hours and you just casually drop on me that you can cook?"
"Yes I did." He stated confidently.
"I don't believe you." You said. Billy just laughed at your statement.
"You don't believe me?"
"Yeah, I don't."
"How about I show you?" He offered.
"Sex or cooking?" You teased.
"Cooking." He huffed out with a grin.
"Fine." You said.
You got out of your bed. Your nakedness following with you as you put some clothes on. One of those articles of clothes being Billies shirts. The both of you make your way down the stairs to your kitchen for Billy to cook.
"You one hundred percent know what you are doing?" You questioned him.
"Yes babe, have at least a little faith in your boyfriend." He laughed.
Billy got straight to work. He brought out a pan, some bread, butter, and cheese. He was making a "house staple" as he put it, a grilled cheese sandwich. Which he knew was your favorite. You sat an watched Billy work away at the food in front of him. You don't know why but you loved watching him cook. It felt so domestic, like you both are supposed to be doing this. You loved it. You loved him. It took a while to get to know him with all the walls he puts up. However, you love the carefree goofy guy that you get to call your boyfriend. You both understand each other, even if everyone else doesn't get it you both do. In your daze you did not realize that Billy placed a plate infant of you.
"Bon appetit!" Billy said. You look down at the grilled cheese in front of you.
"I looks edible." You say. You pick up the sandwich bringing it to your mouth and take a bite. . . . This is the best grilled cheese ever. Maybe because your boyfriend made it for you but still amazing. Your eyes light up.
"Billy this is amazing." You tell him.
"I tried to tell you but you refused to listen." He smirked. You just shoved his arm playfully.
"Were did you learn to cook?" You ask as you both ate.
"Uh- I watched my mom when she would make me snacks as a kid." He said simply. You didn't know that.
"I bet she made great food." You said not wanting to push any further with him, just wanting to enjoy the moment.
"Yeah, she was." He smiled at the fond memory of her. You scoot closer to Billy wrapping your arms around him bring him into a hug. Even with his high body heat already the hug was warm. You arms tighten around him as you bury your face into his shoulder.
"I love you." You state.
"I love you too." He answered. Billy wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your head. You both go back to eating after a minute not wanting the food to get cold. You both enjoyed your time together.
But everything was stopped when you both heard a car park in the drive way. You and Billy both knowing who it is. Not caring for what he will have to say cause you both will still be together. The familiar jingle of keys is heard from the front door. The door opens, a quick "I'm home!" rang through the house as Steve put up his shoes and coat. Steve made his way to the kitchen, which he thought was empty, to get a snack but instead come to see Billy Hargrove in his house. He knew you and Billy were close but he didn't know this close.
"What is that?" Steve asked.
"A grilled cheese." You answered refusing to discuss with him why Billy was here. You just continued to eat your sandwich. Steve, having decided he is no longer hungry, goes up to his room and not come back down. You and Billy just laugh at what just unfolded in front of you. Instead you go back to enjoying each others company while eating, and deciding of the fact that cuddles are a must after cleaning up.
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I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry for not being as active, College is kicking my butt. But it's almost summer!
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bookshelf-dust · 11 months
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pouring out the sun
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billy hargrove x fem!reader
word count: 6,988
warnings: swearing, chubby!reader, reader deals with specific body insecurities, swimsuit wearing, brief mention of blood?, post-starcourt billy, slight sexual innuendos (let me know if i missed anything)
a/n: well, um, it’s been a little over a month since you got a fic from me. i took a break from writing, but my mental health only got worse, so clearly it didn’t work too well. this fic was meant to be a way for me to work through some things, so beware of that. i thought maybe someone else might need it too, or might even understand, in some way. i know i don’t usually do specifics regarding reader, but this is really for me. also, the title is a reference to the song of achilles, but it seemed fitting. i hope this turned out okay. i know it’s a lot, but it’s something. <33
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The wall behind you is starting to make your back ache. The chill you’d felt through your shirt when you’d first situated yourself against it is long gone. You pull your knees up as close as you can get them and wrap your arms around your calves. 
Billy has pressed himself into the footboard of your bed. He’s staring at you and your obstinance makes you stare right back. He crosses his arms, and your gaze flickers to the way his biceps shift with the movement. He’d tease you if he weren't so determined to challenge your stubbornness with his own. 
“How long?” you question, pressing your cheek into the skin of your knee and letting your eyes flutter closed.
“A week. Maybe two,” he answers. 
You scoff and roll your neck so that your forehead can take the place of your cheek. “Oh, holy shit,” you say, voice muffled by your legs. “Yeah, that’s a no.”
Billy rolls his eyes, and even if you can’t see him, you can feel it. He runs a hand down his face. You have your moments, where you can be incredibly difficult, but this is something different. It’s almost like you’re frustrated in some way, and it frustrates Billy that he can’t pinpoint why. 
“You sound like Harrington.” He pushes off the bed and lands a playful slap to the side of your calf before walking out of the room, hoping a bit of pacing might help him figure out what to do.
Billy has wanted to go back to California since he got to Hawkins, though now he seems to be content with a simple vacation, rather than being in a rush to move back. When he brought it up again today, telling you firmly that he is going, you thought it sounded lovely. That it’d be good for him, that maybe he’d take Max and they’d do some family bonding or something. But that’s not what he’d said.
He wants you to go with him.
And you hate the beach. With a burning, fiery passion. 
Despite this, there’s a voice in the back of your head that tells you you’ll end up going anyway–just for him. But right now, the idea of going to California makes you nauseous. 
Sitting in a hot car for the length of that trip, sweating your ass off, baking in the sun, being trapped on the beach for hours? What’s so fun about all of that? And then there’s the matter of a swimsuit. Billy has certainly never seen you in one, and he definitely doesn’t know that you got rid of the ones that were once in your possession. 
He traipses back into the room, making you look up. It’s as if he’s somehow sensed that you were lost in thought, that you were being unkind to yourself. He doesn’t like it when you shit on his girl.
“Look,” Billy starts, leaning against the doorframe. “If you really don’t want to go, I’m not gonna force you or anything.”
He pauses, and you slide further down the wall until your back rests firmly against the mattress. You force yourself to make eye contact with him–only for a moment. 
“I just thought it might be nice to have you with me. I wanted to take you home.” His mouth tips up in a grin at that last bit. He’s guilt tripping you. 
“Goddamnit, William.” You slap your hands over your eyes, shielding yourself from him like he might up and turn you to stone. You’ve never fancied being a garden statue. 
“I just…I don’t know, Billy. There’s a lot for me to think about.” You pull your hands back and his face is inches from yours. It makes you jump, but makes his mouth twist into a Cheshire cat grin. Contrary to the way his boots usually announce his presence, he’s partial to moving like a cat when no one else is around. “Jesus.”
He presses his palms into the bed on either side of you and sits so that his thighs bracket your own. This way you can’t run when he asks you why you’re so insistent about not going to California with him.
“You mean there’s a lot for you to overthink about.” His hands find your sides, thumbs sweeping over the soft of your belly. Your mind jumps to the pudge you know lies underneath your shirt, the very thing that prevents you from wearing the teeny bikinis Heather Holloway runs around in. Right now you can’t bear to have him touch you, and you push his hands off. 
You give him an agitated look, and again that feeling, that he can’t quite pinpoint what’s going on, crawls up Billy’s abdomen and prods at his throat. “What? Like that’s not what you were doing when I came back in here?”
He goes to rest his hands on your thighs, the bare skin calling to him, skin he wants to grasp, knowing how pliant it will be, how it might move under his fingertips, but he stops himself. He thinks that you’ll just push him off again, so he settles for planting them back against the mattress, though close enough that he can feel the warmth of you–close enough that you’re still tangible.
You sigh. He mocks the sound, pitching his voice up just that little bit higher. You cover your face with your palms once more. 
“Look,” Billy starts, “I’ll take care of everything. There’s really nothing for you to worry about. You know I’ve been saving for this since I got here.”
You nod behind your hands, and Billy recognizes it as a gesture you make when you’re about to cry. He swears his heart drops out of his ass. 
“Hey, hey, hey–what’s going on in there?” He pulls at your wrists, a gentle grip, but more than enough to be firm. You let him move your hands away, and he sets them on your belly, but even that seems to be wrong. You’re quick to remove them, not being able to stand the squish of your own flesh. 
You aren’t crying, but your eyes are a little glassy. Billy thinks whatever tears might’ve been about to spill, you’ve willed away. You inhale.
“Billy, I can’t just go to the beach.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t look like you.”
If you could manage to look at him, you’d see the way Billy’s brows meet, maybe even catch the way his breath hitches in his throat. He connects the dots, all at once. Suddenly he knows what you mean.
Last summer, when you were still just friends, you’d come and eat lunch with him on his break. But never once did you actually go swimming, always just taking off when he had to continue his shift. Billy had secretly hoped you’d stay and lounge, at least, during one of the many times you dropped Max or Dustin off. You never did. 
He’s not even sure he ever saw you in something other than jeans then. Hell, you’re wearing shorts right now, in the comfort of your own home, but you don’t ever leave the house in them. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why hadn’t the thought at least occurred to him?
He thinks about all the times you avoid mirrors, or looking at other people. How you never want to go shopping, how all of your clothes are just that little bit too big. He realizes it’s serving you a purpose. You’re trying to hide–from Hawkins, from him, from yourself.
Billy feels like he’s been punched, or maybe like someone’s poured ice water down the back of his shirt. Still he teases. He needs to.
“Well, contrary to popular belief, I'm really not that into myself. So I’m actually pretty damn grateful that you don’t look like me.”
He tracks your shaky inhale. The teasing has failed him, and he doesn’t want to see you cry.
Billy moves off of your lap in hopes that it might help pull you out of your head for a moment. “You wanna talk to me?” he ventures. You sit up, nodding. The movement allows the tears you’d been holding back to slip free, gliding down the apples of your cheeks.
Billy’s thumbs are against your skin in a moment, wiping them away. “Yeah?” He reciprocates your nod, more reassuring, supportive, than mocking. Billy holds out his hand for you to take. You bring it into your lap, tracing the many creases on his palm. It gives you something steady to focus on, grounds you enough that you can concentrate on getting your words out. 
“I know it’s stupid,” you mumble, voice thick with emotion. Billy flicks his fingers upward to tickle your own, and it gets your lips to tick up just that little bit. 
“It’s not stupid,” he says, tone dead serious. “What’s that shit you always tell me?” He raises his other hand, waving it around. “This is a safe space to share your feelings.” He says the words playfully, as if it might pain him, though he’s just trying to help you like you do for him. Your heart warms at the effort.
“It’s my body, Billy. I can’t just go to the beach because the beach means a swimsuit, it means people seeing me in a swimsuit, you seeing me, but I can’t wear one, and I—” You pause, drawing in a breath. Your eyes squeeze shut for just a second, another tear falling down, but you catch it before he can.
“I hate my body, okay? And I love that you want to take me with you to California, really it means so much to me, but I-I know that means tagging along with you, being out in hot weather, and I’m just going to ruin it all for you looking like this. Really you should be taking someone else. Someone who can maybe put on clothes without sobbing.”
When you finish and look up at him, Billy looks heartbroken. It immediately makes you want to take it all back. You never meant to tell him any of this. 
“You sob when you have to get dressed?” he asks, almost tentatively. The way he says it tells you he’s not picking on you, but instead trying to understand. He’s picturing it, you struggling to simply get ready for the day, and it kills him. You shouldn’t have to feel that way.
“I have before, yeah. And Billy you’re hot. I know you know that. You should be with someone who’s equally as attractive. Not someone like me.”
You hiccup and release Billy’s hand. You start playing with a string on the hem of your worn-out shorts. Billy’s thumb finds your forearm, dragging up to press against the inside of your elbow. “Baby.”
You shake your head, forcing a sad smile to form on your face. “It’s alright. I told you it was silly.”
“Are you shitting me right now?” His grip tightens ever so slightly. He’s begging for you to listen to him without ever saying so. You meet his eyes, and he’s looking at you with so much concern, so much love, that you wish you hadn’t looked at all. This isn’t silly. Not to him.
“What is it about your body that you don’t like? Can you tell me that much?” 
More understanding. More compassion. You can’t take it.
You bite the inside of your lip so hard that you draw blood. You press your tongue against the spot, hoping it will stop. You’re getting angry with yourself. For making this situation about you, for telling him about your stupid feelings, for thinking that you could ever make this work when clearly you’re not meant to even be in a relationship, especially not with him, and definitely not when you look like this–
“Stop. Take a deep breath, and talk to me.” Billy’s tone is unyielding. You’re working this out right now, and he’s made that decision for you. He knows if you don’t, you’ll just shove it right back under the rug and keep fighting this internal battle with yourself all while he’s right here.
You do as he said, and start again. 
“I don’t like my tummy, or my hips, o-or my boobs. My arms are wrong too, and I’ve got all these rolls, and nothing is shaped right. I hate everything, and I can’t even look in the mirror anymore, and I want to go on this trip with you, really I do, but all of this is overwhelming me, and I-I’m just going to ruin it for you.”
“Look at me,” Billy says. You hadn’t even noticed you’d stopped, eyes glued to your bedsheets. You start crying again, warm tears spilling over your lashes. You can’t get them to stop, can’t get your thoughts to stop. It makes you want to press your hands to your ears, like that would help, but really it’s just you. You in your own head. 
Billy takes your face in his hands. “There is nothing wrong with your body. This is just your mind fuckin’ with you. I know that every part of you is perfect, just as it is, and you don’t have to look like anyone else to be good enough.”
You shake your head and grab hold of his wrists. “See, but you can’t really say that. You don’t actually know what my body looks like because I don’t have it in me to let you see it. I know that if you did, you’d be grossed out, Billy. There’s so much fat, and pudge, and I–”
“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing? Because it isn’t and I don’t wanna hear you say that again, you understand?” You sniffle. He takes that as a yes. 
“Baby, I know I haven’t seen shit. But I fucking swear that I’d be a goner for it. You think I mind having a little extra to squeeze on? ‘Cause I don’t.”
You’re trying so hard to believe him, but every cell, every nerve in your body is screaming in protest. He’s lying. He’s lying, he’s lying, he’s lying. But there’s a part of your brain that knows he isn’t. That he wouldn’t dare lie to you. 
“My body is…it’s disappointing.” You sit up on your knees and wipe your nose. “Because I-I know what the world wants me to look like, and I don’t look like that.” You squeeze your eyes shut, and more tears slip out. He can’t stand to see you like this, and it’s killing him to know that this is what you’ve been dealing with for who knows how long.
“It’s not fair,” you cry. “It’s not fair because I don’t get to walk around with this amazing body, the kind of body that men clearly want, and I think now I want it too. I sit in my room at night and I think about how I’d love myself more if I had a different body.”
Now that the floodgates have opened, you can’t force them closed. 
“Because I don’t have porn star tits, Billy. They’re sad looking, and they definitely don’t look like the chick’s on your bedroom wall, or the ones in your bedside drawer. 
He lets out a scoff of a laugh. It’s not malicious, not even at all. It’s simply due to the fact that your mind, and the world around you, has led you to hating the body you were given. He laughs because he agrees with you that it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that you’re feeling like this. But he has to make sure you recognize that you can’t compare yourself to fucking models. 
“You know all of their tits are fake, right? Or strapped in somehow to get ‘em that high.”
You rub your nose, drag a hand down your throat. “Well, yeah but I’m sure there are lots of other women around here with better boobs than me. I know you like boobs, Billy. And mine are gross.”
“Yeah, that’s bullshit. They aren’t gross, and you shouldn’t talk about your girls like that.” He holds up a finger to prevent you from fussing about that comment. “I don’t care if they’re a little droopy or if they aren’t these round balloons, or if they aren’t porn star tits, or whatever it is about them you don’t like. And I know it’s only because you’ve been comparing your tits with some stranger’s, and that’s bullshit too.” You stare at Billy blankly, but he’s still not done. 
“I wouldn’t care about any of those things. Because they’re your boobies, and that makes them my favorites.”
“Please don’t say boobies, Billy.” He grins and leans in until his mouth hovers above the shell of your ear.
“And I always end up thinkin’ about you anyway.” Your face starts to burn and you fight the urge to abort right then and there. “Not even Elvira can keep me from thinking about you, baby.”
Your face is burning. “What is wrong with you?”
“Oh, there’s a lot wrong with me,” he says, rubbing his nose against yours. “But there’s not a damn thing wrong with your body, and I’m gonna be right here until you think the same.” He gives you one chaste kiss and pulls back. 
“But Billy, my ass is–”
“Amazing? I’ve seen it in those jeans you wear all the time. Shit is mind boggling, baby.”
“Jesus fucking christ.”
His giggles taper out, and then he’s looking at you all gently again, like you’re the most precious thing in the entire goddamn universe. “You gotta quit comparing yourself to other people, okay? Doesn’t do you any good, and I know that. This is the only body you’re gonna get, and you deserve to love on it a little.” 
You run your hands down your face. “I just wish I believed that.”
Billy leans down and smacks a kiss to your knee. 
“Hate seein’ you like this, you know? You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. The way you’re told you should look? It’s all idealized and stereotypical bullshit, and it isn’t fair for you to look at yourself and pick every little thing apart because it doesn’t look like some chick in a porno mag or a comic book drawn by some horny, middle-aged man.” 
He’s fired up now, genuinely hurting for you, and he’s talking with his hands. That gets you every time. 
You might be snotty, your cheeks might feel tight from where the tears have dried, but seeing him be so passionate about making you feel better gets a little grin out of you. 
Billy catches it, that itty bitty quirk of your lips, and he moves in until his face is inches from yours. It’s supposed to be intimidating. 
“The fuck are you grinning about?”
Your grin turns into a full, teary smile. 
“You expecting a kiss or something?” he teases, thumb dragging over your lashes, separating them where they’d clumped together with moisture. 
“I was gonna give you one, actually.” Your eyes start to prickle again. “Because I don’t deserve you—”
Billy covers your mouth with his hand. “Listen, if there’s anyone who doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me—”
You do the same to him in an instant, only he smacks his lips against your palm, winking just for good measure. You roll your eyes.
Both of you remove your hands at the same time, and then you really do kiss him. A sweet press of your mouth that tells him…everything. 
You pull away, and he’s still looking at you like you hung the fucking stars.
“I’m sorry for keeping all of this in, Billy. It’s so suffocating sometimes, and I get so angry with myself for looking like this. I just imagine that I’d be so much happier with someone else’s body.”
“But if you had someone else’s body, you wouldn’t be you anymore. You wouldn’t be my girl.” 
You nod, trying not to let the voices win. Trying not to think about how you look in the mirror versus how you wish you looked. How if you had different features it might be better. 
“Just can’t help thinkin’ you should be with someone that looks nicer than I do.” 
“But I want you, okay? I love you exactly the way that you are.”
“Okay,” you respond, voice shaky. 
“Can I hug you?” Billy asks.
“Yeah. Yeah.”
Billy pulls you into his arms, squeezing you tightly against him. He has this way of getting you out of your head, of making you feel like the two of you are all that matter.
You’ve both risen up onto your knees, the mattress dipping around you. Billy’s hands are rubbing all over your back. 
He leans his head back a little, making sure he catches your attention before he dips his chin down to gesture at where the both of your chests meet. 
“They don’t feel gross to me.”
You heave a sigh, pulling away from him completely, and trying to ignore how proud he looks of himself.
“We’re gonna keep workin’ on this, alright? I’m not letting you hate on yourself so much anymore.”
“Yes, sir.” 
Billy rolls his eyes, but you give him a hopeful, yet sad, smile, all the confirmation he’s looking for. That you’ll try. 
“So what else about the beach is it that you’re worried about? I’ll buy you a fucking umbrella, I swear. And if you go, I’ll let you drive.”
Your eyes widen, and Billy knows he’s just won you over. He knows that you have a soft spot for his car, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.
————
“You aren’t upset that you’re not going?”
“No, not really. I mean, I like it there, but I’ve never had the same attachment to it as Billy has.”
Max slings another swimsuit over her arm. You decided that you really wanted to try and find one you might be comfortable in. Billy said you didn’t have to swim, even if he didn’t want you to overheat, but you’re determined to find something. And Max had happily offered to help you while Billy worked on finding you both a place to stay.
Every once in a while, Max will hold one up to you, as if contemplating the color, and then decide she wants you to try it on without asking, knowing you’ll argue with her.
“Do you miss it?” 
She shrugs her shoulders, nodding towards the dressing rooms and leading the way. She’s holding substantially more swimsuits than you are, and you know you’ll be trying on every single one.
“Sometimes? I miss my family. And I think even for Billy it’s mostly about his mom. California was the last place he was sort of…happy. But I like Hawkins, you know? And even if he likes it better now too, I’ve never been as determined to go back as he is.”
You pause outside the dressing room, clutching the slippery fabric harder than necessary. “I understand. Anything you want me to bring back for you?” 
Max opens the door for you and starts hanging up suits on the hooks provided. She grins. “I’ll never say no to a prize. Now stop stalling, and get in here.” 
You do as she says, and make her choose which one to try first, just to make it easier on yourself. 
Max closes her eyes while you change, but when she hears the shuffling stop and a sniffling replaces it, she moves her hands. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” She stands up next to you.
You’re crying, but you’re trying so, so hard not to let the tears slip out. “I’m sorry,” you say, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. “I just haven’t seen my body like this in a long time, and I feel like I look so ugly.” 
She grabs your wrists and gently pulls them away from your face. 
“You don’t look ugly. You look great.” 
Max turns you so that you’re facing the mirror again. Your hands fly to your stomach, and you start to poke at it. She watches you pull at the skin of your hips, trying to see what it’d look like if there was less of it. 
“Don’t do that,” she scolds you. You let your hands fall to your sides, and she catches the stray tear before it can slide down your cheek. She’s being much too nice to you. 
“You don’t think that’s gross?” you question, criticizing your body in the mirror, comparing it to the stockpile of other bodies you’ve got in your brain. 
Max puts her hands on her hips. “No, I don’t think it’s gross. I think you look hot.”
You scoff, pulling at one of the straps. It’s a one- piece, in a color you really like, because you’re too scared to show your tummy right now. There’s a voice in the back of your head that says it looks just fine, but you ignore it. 
“You can’t really think that, Max.”
“Oh, but I can, and I do. So, you’re just gonna have to live with that. And Billy told me about your problems with your body—he’s got a big mouth, you know that? But I wanted to tell you that my hips look like that too. It’s normal.” 
She’s standing like Steve, determined to have you believe her. Determined to be there for you. 
“I think you should get this one,” she continues. “I know you like it.”
“I don’t know, Max.”
“Then try on a few more, okay? Don’t let your thoughts stop you from picking out something you like. As long as it’s comfortable, that’s all that matters. You have a great body, and you deserve to go to the beach with your boyfriend and wear a swimsuit.”
She flops down on the bench, an encouraging smile gracing her face when she reaches up and shoves another bathing suit into your hands. 
Max Mayfield is very convincing when she wants to be. Not only do you keep the tears at bay for the rest of the trip, you also end up getting the first one, as well as one she slipped in your basket at the last second because it “Looked too kickass not to buy.”
————
“You make a very pretty passenger princess, you know.”
Billy rolls his eyes, and even if you can’t exactly see the gesture with your own glued to the road, you feel the disturbance. He smacks his hand against your bare thigh and leaves it there, even if it is too hot for skin-to-skin contact. You know if it weren’t for the air conditioning blasting your face, you might’ve shoved him out of the car. 
“Turn up here, you little shit.”
You’ve made it off of all the main roads, now driving through beach town after beach town. Billy can’t even complain about your driving because well…you’re a good driver. He watches you eye the swankier resorts, the ones with pools and valet parking. He hopes you’ll be happy with the little house he found. It’s not too far from where he grew up, and he’d been pleased about being somewhat familiar with the area. 
The sound of gravel under the tires makes you feel safe. Billy directs you towards your destination, and when you park the car, you feel like you might cry. 
The house is small, sure, but it’s welcoming. The neighborhood isn’t suffocatingly full, either. Sure, there are other homes, some larger than others with their big balconies and wrap-around porches, but it feels…nice. 
You turn off the engine and get out. Billy walks around the other side of the car and wraps his arms around your waist. “You wanna go look around? I’ll come back and get our shit in a minute.”
You spin around and smack a kiss to his forehead. If his cheeks weren’t already red from the heat, he knows they would be simply from your affection. You nod, and Billy takes your hand, leading up the little set of stairs to the door. 
He bends over. “The lady on the phone said the key was under the mat.” He comes back up with the metal in hand. 
“The lady on the phone?” you wonder. 
Billy pushes the door open. “Yeah, it’s like an old ass couple renting this place out. She practically told me her whole life story the other day.” You grin and hook your fingers in his belt loops, letting him pull you around inside the house. 
It really is cozy. One bedroom, two and a half bathrooms. Comfy little barstools and a sweet couch. The part you’re really excited about is the porch. Excited enough that you separate from Billy and pull the sliding glass doors open to step outside. 
You can see the beach. It might take a little bit to walk down there, but you can see it. Which means you can watch the sunset. 
“You like it?” Billy leans against the doorframe behind you. You can hear the smile in his voice. 
“I really do.”
He pulls you in for a kiss then, lips warm and a little chapped against yours. 
“So, I have this plan.” You raise an eyebrow, clearly a little frightened by that idea. He grins, and kisses you again, trying to shut you up, you know. “There’s a board shop not far from here that closes in…” He pauses, looking at his watch. “An hour and a half. I was gonna rent one so that I can surf tomorrow. Do you wanna go with me or stay here?”
You look over at the bench tucked into the corner of the porch. The cushion looks very comfortable, and you did bring a book. He knows what you’re doing to say before you even say it. 
“I think I’ll stay here.”
“That’s cool, baby. I can pick up dinner?” He squeezes at your hips. 
“That would be nice.”
You reach around and slip your hands into his back pockets. He won’t say it, but you seem a little lighter now that you’re here. Like you aren’t so panicked about the prospect of vacation, but rather content to be there with him. It’s as if you know he’s going to take real good care of you–which he is. 
“That way you can explore, right?” he teases. You’re like a cat that way. You have to check everything out first before you really settle down. 
“Right.” You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, and he pats around on your ass, looking for his keys. When he secures them, he gives it a firm smack, just while he can get away with it, and then he’s moving away from you. 
But he’s right. You do feel a little more content. Maybe even comfortable.
————
“Be fucking still, William.”
“It’s cold,” he bites back. 
You’re rubbing sunscreen all over his back, and even if you’ve already covered the rest of him in it, and helped him tie his hair up into a sweet little bun, he’s destined to be the whiniest man in all of existence. You know for a fact that it isn’t that cold, considering he’d put it on you minutes before. 
“There.” You push your hand into the skin of his neck, making sure you’ve got every spot. You refuse to listen to him fuss about a sunburn. “I’m all done.”
 Billy turns around to face you, placing his sunglasses up on the top of his head. “Ready to get going then?”
“If by ready to watch you eat shit, then yes.”
Billy aligns his face with yours, locking eyes and everything. “I’m not gonna eat shit.”
“Eh,” you shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I bet you will.”
He kisses your shoulder over the t-shirt you’re wearing. He still hasn’t seen the swimsuit you’ve put on, and you’re trying to postpone it for as long as possible. It’s a miracle you didn’t cry getting it on, but you tried to remember what Max had said, how sweet Billy had been when you’d come clean about your insecurities. It is comfortable, at least. You just feel all sorts of wrong wearing it. But you can’t let that ruin this whole trip. It’s not worth it. 
“Come on, grumpy pants. Get a move on.”
When you finally make it to the beach, you’re so hot and sticky you could beat the shit out of him right then and there. There’s no way this is actually enjoyable for people. Definitely not in this heat. 
Billy has left to retrieve an umbrella and a chair for you, insisting he can just sit on a towel. By the time he gets back, you’re full on pouting. It makes him laugh. You cross your arms and watch him work the umbrella into the sand. 
He finishes and reaches a hand out to pull you up from where you’d plopped on top of the towel bag. “It’s so hot,” you whine, faking tears. 
He just keeps laughing. “I know. That’s why you’re gonna come in the water with me, and then you’ll cool off and you can come sit here and watch me eat shit.”
He pulls his shirt off over his head. Your eyes wander all over his torso, soaking in every inch of skin, every freckle and scar. “I thought you weren’t gonna eat shit,” you argue, leaning in to kiss the raised patch on his chest. 
You wish you could be as confident about your body as he is sometimes. Things got really hard for Billy after Starcourt, but at some point something just snapped, and he decided he should show off the messy scars. He takes care of them as best as he can, much better care than he ever thought he would, and they are looking better.
You even wish that you could love on your own the way you do his. But that’s just not the case. 
“Yeah, well I probably will eat shit, so.” He gestures towards your shirt. “You gonna swim in that?” His eyes drop to your bare thighs. No one should be allowed to look that sweet.
“Um…no.” You tentatively grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off quickly, trying to rip off the bandaid. When you’re done, Billy has to remember to keep his mouth closed, his jaw having legitimately dropped. 
“Holy shit. This is the body you’ve been so mean to?”
“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna put the shirt back on.” 
He steps closer to you. He’s gawking. “No! Please don’t. You look hot, baby.”
You’re not sure anyone has ever called you hot before. Certainly not whilst in an item of clothing that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, even if you are pretty damn covered. It’s a little bit higher cut on the sides than you’re used to, but it holds everything in well. You feel exposed. If you think about it for too long you’ll probably just throw up. 
You put your hands over your belly and tilt your head, smushing your cheek into your shoulder. “Billy,” you fuss. 
He removes your hands and instead takes them in him, pulling you down the beach with him. When you get to the water, Billy watches you wade out until it’s knee deep, trying to keep his eyes away from your ass. 
He thinks you look fucking radiant like this. And he’s never actually even said that word. You’re looking down, probably for sand dollars or little fish. Billy takes this opportunity to look at your body. Not in a judgemental way by any means, but simply because he’s never gotten to see it like this. You’re being vulnerable with him, and that means more than anything else could. 
Billy wades out a little further than you and disappears beneath the waves for just a moment. When he emerges you think this is what people must have thought about Achilles. He is breathtakingly gorgeous, and it simply isn’t fair. You can’t believe that you have him. 
Billy walks you back to your umbrella and gets you nice and shielded from the sun before he heads back out to attempt surfing. He might’ve been messing with you, but it has been a few years, and he really might get his ass handed to him by the ocean. 
You’re eating a popsicle when he finally catches a wave, after having tried and failed for a little while. It’s impressive to see him up there like that, especially when you can’t even comprehend how he does it. 
You might hate the heat, and you might hate the fact that there’s sand up your ass, but you think you could sit here and watch Billy surf for hours with no complaint. It’s like he’s in his element, way more than when he played basketball. You can tell that he knows what he’s doing, that he sort of listens to the water and obeys. 
You allow yourself to imagine a future like this. One where maybe you can come back during the summers, just the two of you or maybe with Max and a friend of hers. You could never give up snow, so it couldn’t be permanent, but you could do it for Billy.
You could do anything if it meant getting to see him so happy. If it meant getting to feel so loved and so safe. It is your greatest honor to be loved by Billy Hargrove, a boy that everyone thought was incapable of loving. 
————
“Motherfucker.”
Billy’s voice echoes in the bathroom, reaching you where you lay in the bed. You can’t see him from where you are. 
It’s been a few days, and it’s gotten easier to put on that swimsuit. To look at yourself in the mirror. You’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of listening. You might even say you’ve learned from Billy during this trip. Not that you’d boost his ego by telling him so.  
He rushes out of the bathroom and flops down in front of you, holding his hand aloft.  “Baby, I need help. I got a splinter from your goddamn umbrella. I can’t get it out.”
“What do you say, Hargrove?” You sit up, taking the tweezers from him with an evil grin on your face. 
“Pretty please?”
“That’s it.”
The second you get your eyes on the splinter, you know he just wanted attention from you. It’s big, and he could’ve just pulled it out with his fingernails. But you’re touched he wanted your help. That says a lot more than he probably realizes. 
You grip the edge of the teeny wood piece and gently pull it out from under his skin. You place it in the palm of his hand. “Ta-da.”
He snorts, and you kiss the tip of his finger. “All better now?”
“Yep.”
He slips into bed with you soon after, and you can’t help but sit up on your knees, just so you can get a good look at him. 
The freckles under his eyes have become loads more prominent, and they spread over his shoulders and collarbones like someone’s dumped glitter all over him. 
He lets you look at him, too, just admiring you in the moment. You look sleepy, beat from being out all day, from driving around to see where Billy grew up, but he thinks you’ve never looked prettier. He tells you so and you use his hand to shield your face. 
It makes Billy laugh, and he pushes your head gently, knowing you’ll go all dramatic and fall back, and when you do you end up in his lap. 
You curl up like a cat, wrapping your arms around him so you can rest your head on his tummy and splay your fingers out over his warm back. You change positions quickly though, propping your chin up with your hands. 
“Thank you for coming with me,” Billy says, swiping a thumb over the apple of your cheek. It’s a light enough touch that it tickles.
“Don’t have to thank me. I wanted to.”
He exhales. “I know, but I also know it’s been hard for you, being in your head all the time.”
“It’s okay. You’re helping.”
He smirks. “Oh yeah?”
“Mhm.” You scoot up and tuck yourself into his side. You might not even need a blanket with all the heat he radiates. “Much too good to me,” you mutter, kissing his chest. 
“You deserve it.”
He feels you grin against his skin, bashful as ever no matter how long you’ve known each other. 
Billy moves onto his side and entangles himself with you, holding you tight to his chest. 
You reciprocate the hold, squeezing a little to tell him you love him. “Thank you for bringing me home. I can see how happy you are here.”
“I’d be happy anywhere as long as you were there too.”
You snort. “That’s so cheesy.”
“It’s true, though.” 
“I know it is.” You’re silent for a minute before you remember. “We gotta get Max a prize before we leave.”
“Oh yeah, bring the little shit a gift.”
“She deserves a prize for having helped me pick out a bathing suit.”
Billy contemplates your statement. “Hm. Yeah, that works. So what do I get then, huh?”
“My eternal love.”
“Oh. I was hoping you’d like, take me to dinner or something.”
“Talk about being a little shit,” you mumble, sleep taking over. For the first time, you aren’t worried about going to the beach tomorrow. You aren’t worried about what squish Billy might be able to feel, holding you like this. You feel comfortable. Maybe you’re not completely in love with yourself, but with Billy around, you might get there one day. For now, that’s enough. It’s more than enough. 
“Eternal love it is then.”
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