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ganjas-shit · 2 days
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Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart
Summary: You get to the bottom of Billy’s feelings but will it be too late?
Pairings: Billy x reader, slight Steve x reader (nothing too crazy)
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexual intercourse, cursing, abuse, blood, harsh language, Neil Hargrove, angst, mention of drugs, mental illness, panic attack.
Authors note: So, turns out I will be turning this into a series but STILL don’t know how long yet! I hope you guys enjoy I’ve been working on this all day. Message me or comment if you’d like to be apart of the tag list! Thank you for your support <3
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Chapter Two: You’re gonna be okay.
⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩
The morning air was crisp and refreshing, like sipping cool water. It felt invigorating against your skin, awakening your senses to the day ahead.
You took one more deep breath, enjoying the cool air in your lungs and closed the door behind you, locking it with your house key, and made your way towards the front of your house waiting for Steve’s arrival.
You close your eyes before slapping a hand over your forehead. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath, realizing you forgot to call him this morning. With his habit of sleeping in, you’d likely be late for the billionth time only this time you didn’t find it in you to care, the excitement from last nights events still lingered in your belly.
Billy showed a different side of himself, setting aside his usual arrogance and charm. This unexpected change only fueled your excitement, leaving you eager to learn more about him.
The sound of Billy and Max bickering snapped you out of your thoughts. Though you couldn’t discern their exact exchange, it was evident Billy had the upper hand as Max slammed the passenger door of his car. “Watch it, shitbird, or you’ll be walking to school!” Billy’s voice echoed with attitude and irritation. Neil’s sudden appearance brought a stern reminder for Billy to mind his words when speaking to his sister
As he was about to get into his car, your eyes met his ocean-blue ones, but they held anger towards you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You immediately shook it off, offering him a wave and your bright, sweet smile. He maintained eye contact for a moment but disregarded your greeting, hopping into the driver’s seat of his blue Camaro.
You stood there, dumbfounded, watching him speed off, cringing at the loud sound of his departure. Did you do something? You thought to yourself.
You found the interaction between him and his father last night rather odd. His father’s presence was intimidating and uncomfortable, yet Billy left with a small smile directed towards you. It seemed like he was grateful for your conversation, so you couldn’t understand what could’ve happened.
Steve arrived momentarily, surprisingly on time, his burgundy bmw stopping right in front of you house. You climbed into the passenger side, a mixture of frustration and disappointment bubbling within you. With a heavy hand and a distracted mind, you slammed the passenger door of Steve’s car.
“Hey, easy!” He yelled, his tone irritated at your lack of consideration for his precious baby, bringing you back to the present moment. “Sorry,” you mumbled, shifting your belongings to the front of your legs and fastening your seatbelt.
“Jesus Christ,” Steve huffed. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” He glanced towards the driver’s window, checking for any incoming cars or pedestrians.
“Billy Hargrove,” you muttered grumpily, turning your gaze out the window as the trees and houses began to blur with the increasing speed of Steve’s car.
Steve looked over at you, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white in the process. “Yeah, well, at least you’re not being benched today because of him,” Steve said, his tone tinged with anger at the fact that Billy clearly upset you and at the realization that he’s not starting or playing the opening game today.
You remained quiet still distracted by your thoughts.
“What happened?” Steve asked, glancing over towards you. You straightened up and began explaining what had occurred the night before.
You started to explain the night in vivid detail to Steve, although he wished you wouldn’t have because he already didn’t like the idea of you and Hargrove together, and hearing the details made him inwardly vomit.
The car came to a halt when you had arrived at school. Steve parked and took the key out of the ignition, taking a deep breath before speaking.
"Billy’s always kind of had a weird temper, y/n," Steve spoke carefully. He wasn’t being judgmental; he's just been a firsthand witness to it. "Him and I have roughed each other up a couple of times," he admitted.
Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You guys fought?! MORE THAN ONCE? ” You felt a surge of anger; Steve had lied to you. “So that one day after school, when you had a bruised eye, it wasn’t from bumping into a locker, it was from Billy?!” You mimicked Steve’s stupid voice, scolding him.
Steve rolled his eyes at your reaction, his head hitting the back of his headrest. It was the very reason he didn’t want to tell you, because he knew you’d freak out like this. “Can you let me finish?” he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
You waved your hands at him, signaling for him to continue.
“It was after practice one day, Neil, his dad had come to watch our scrimmage game,” Steve spoke.
Steve never forgot that day. Neil Hargrove looked like the biggest dick of a father anyone could have, and the way he spoke to Billy that day confirmed it.
"Billy, stop being a fucking pussy and get on defense!" Neil screamed, as if he were the assistant coach or something. Steve knew Billy could play defense; hell, he was the one who taught him to plant his feet properly.
Steve had the ball, with Billy defending closely. As Steve dribbled, scanning for an opening, he noticed Billy's distant and uneasy expression; it wasn’t filled with arrogance and a cocky smile like it usually was. "Hey man, you alright?" Steve asked, still dribbling. Billy's response was a glare of rage, yet he seized the opportunity. With a swift move, he snatched the ball from Steve's hand, pushing past him, sending Steve on his ass. Smoothly dribbling past him, Billy scored.
When Billy scored, he yelled and smiled as he usually did, then looked to the sidelines where his father stood, seeking some sort of approval or applause from him. However, he received nothing. Neil walked out, acknowledging nothing and Billy’s smile faltered immediately.
Coach Williams called an end to practice, and everyone left for the locker rooms to shower. Steve stayed for a couple more minutes to stretch his legs. As he walked out, he heard some yelling. Curious, he peeked over the wall to his right and saw Neil and Billy. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he did see Neil push Billy into the wall. Although he wasn’t close enough to hear the exchange, Billy looked frightened, and Neil appeared angry at God knows what. Steve witnessed Neil slap Billy once in the face, causing even him to flinch. With that, Neil left, leaving Billy there. Billy’s head hung low as he looked at his shoes and wiped his eyes.
Steve didn’t know what to do but he did what felt right. Again he asked like a broken record. “You alright?”
Billy flinched at the sound of Steve’s voice. “What did you see?” Billy spat with rage. Steve was confused and even hurt by his response. He was just asking if he was okay? Jesus Christ, was this kid always angry and defensive? Steve thought.
Steve decided Billy was a lost cause. He rolled his eyes, turned his back on him, and decided to just leave.
"Are you deaf?" Billy spat, his voice filled with anger, as he followed behind Steve and forcefully pushed his back, causing Steve to stumble and fall once again.
Steve's empathy ran out, replaced by anger. He got up and pushed Billy back. "Looks like you got some fire in you after all, Harrington!" he laughed manically. Steve noticed Billy's bloody nose, but it wasn't from him; it was from Neil.
Billy then charged at Steve, landing a punch on the right side of his face, and Steve retaliated almost instantly. They grappled and exchanged blows for a couple of minutes until Tommy H. and another teammate intervened to break up the fight.
You let out a deep sigh as Steve finished speaking.
Your heart broke for Billy; his father was a despicable, abusive piece of shit. You felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier, but it still didn’t justify him taking it out on you. Did his father say something about you? You glanced sympathetically at Steve, who had tried to help and ended up with a blow to his right eye. Billy had no right, and while you don't excuse his behavior, you can't help but empathize with him.
"Just be careful with him, y/n," Steve said, his tone filled with concern. "He’s erratic and unpredictable," he added, his worry still evident.
Billy wasn’t a monster; you knew that. You also knew you could handle yourself; you didn’t need protection. After all, you had experience in this department; you dealt with a verbally abusive mother once upon a time.
You smiled at Steve. “I can handle myself. If I can handle the demogorgon, demo bats, and Vecna, I can handle Billy Hargrove,” you said, grabbing his hand that was resting on the center console and squeezing it gently. “Now let’s get to first period before clickety-clackety marks us late.” You finished letting go and opening the passenger door.
Steve did the same. “You know I hate when you and Robin call her that,” he said, now closing and locking his car. “It sounds nerdy,” he explained, speeding up to walk next to you.
Steve grabbed his hand attempting to calm the tingle he felt it in after your touch.
"Too bad," you said, playfully sticking out your tongue as you headed to class, earning you a classic Harrington eye roll. “Wait, how is that nerdy?” You chimed in again, sparking a lively banter between the two of you that continued until you reached class.
.
You got through your classes today only to be bombarded with more work.
The day you’d been dreading all week: the opening game of the season for Hawkins High.
You only ever enjoyed it when Steve played, but with him not playing tonight, the day seemed even worse. However, I suppose you could try to look on the bright side because it was Billy’s debut.
You walked around the gym, proud of yours and Billy’s work; the banners looked great. You double-checked that everyone was in their rightful place. Cheerleaders? Check. Band? Check. Student council? Check. Eddie Munson? Wait, Eddie Munson? At the Hawkins High opening game? No, it couldn’t be.
Eddie strode your way, wearing his infamous hellfire tee, paired with black ripped jeans and a silver chain that hung at the loops of them.
"What the hell are you doing here?" You questioned, smiling, genuinely surprised to see Eddie Munson at the opening game.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m thinking about convincing coach Williams to let me join the basketball team,” Eddie said, mimicking shooting a basketball poorly. “Gotta work on my basketball moves,” he added, moving on to mimic dribbling, which was downright horrid.
“Clearly,” you said, laughing at his terrible performance. “Your form is so off, and you look like you have no rhythm,” you added with a chuckle.
“Oh, I have rhythm. But it’s all in the fingers, baby… And trust me, the ladies love it… both ways,” he said with a smirk, punctuating his words with a wink.
You roll your eyes. “Smooth, Casanova.”
“Why are you really here? Is it Chrissy?” you say, raising your eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner. “Or oh no, wait a minute, are you swooning over Billy Hargrove too?” you tease.
He scoffed slightly, his cheeks flushing at the mention of Chrissy’s name.
“No, but if you must know, O’Donnell said if I checked in with her after the game tonight, she’ll give me extra credit,” he explained, wiggling his eyebrows. You couldn’t help but laugh at how much of a dork he was.
But as you conversed, you couldn't help but notice the glares directed your way, especially from Carol and her friends, who were whispering about the two of you. Admitting it was difficult, but you found yourself affected by the things people said. It stung deeply; the cruelty of others weighed heavily on you, especially considering your own past involvement in similar behavior, which made you feel like you deserved the treatment you were receiving.
You shook off the thoughts that invaded your mind and refocused your attention back to Eddie.
“Wanna sit together? I have good seats in the student council section,” you said cheesing, reaching out to poke his stomach.
"Wow, Eddie Munson getting invited to the VIP section at his first Hawkins high basketball game? Count me in," he said, falling into step behind you as you headed towards the student section.
“You are such a dork.”
You and Eddie made your way to your seats, exchanging greetings with Robin as you passed by. Shortly after, the band started playing, and the basketball team began to roll in.
The team then huddled up and Coach Williams sent in the starting lineup, you felt the anticipation building. The game was about to begin.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Billy. Ever since Steve gave you a little insight into who he was, he had been on your mind all day. Despite your best efforts, he didn’t turn his head once to look at you in class today, You had hoped to catch him after class, but that ditz Tina beat you to it. Seeing him all over her made you physically sick. It was nothing new, but today it stung a little more.
.
Billy’s facade of arrogance and confidence was beginning to crack.
He wasn’t prepared for this game, his mind consumed by the events of the previous night. His father had never offered him approval, kindness, or any form of support. But he did for you, which only fueled his bitterness toward you. Billy had dedicated himself to sports, hoping to earn his father’s affection and love. And the only commendation his father ever uttered was about you, summed up in just two words.
“Nice girl.”
Billy came to the conclusion that that’s why his father made those comments about you, realizing that Neil was drawn to submissive, weak, and timid women. It gave him a sense of control, a power trip that he relished, and it was the only valid reason.
But, he knew you weren't weak; you stood up for yourself, you were resilient, but it unsettled him. Since the age of 13, Billy had been consumed by anger after his mother left. She abandoned him, leaving him with a void. In you, he found a sense of safety similar to what he felt with his mother. He was unexplainably drawn towards you. Yet, the thought of attaching himself to you terrified him, fearing you might leave just like his mother did.
The thought of his father wanting you for him unsettled him deeply and fueled his desire to rebel. His mind was a war zone; he was caught between conflicting feelings that were tearing him apart.
He couldn’t help but think that Neil wanted him to follow in his footsteps.
Tommy nudged his shoulder snapping him back to reality, “Hey? You ready to kick some ass Hargrove,” Tommy asked excitedly.
Billy nodded, mustering up everything within him to get his mind straight, but then he saw you in the crowd next to Eddie Munson.
His heart ached a little, he felt guilty about this morning, and he started to feel jealousy course through his veins as he watched you laugh with the mop-headed boy. He kept his eyes on you for so long that he completely missed the sound of the whistle going off.
Shit.
The opposing team took had the ball in play and Billy’s mistake was seen by the entire school resulting in the opposing team making their first point.
The crowd was visibly upset with their screams and yelling and this made Billy’s adrenaline increase and his heart rate was speeding up drastically. His father wasn’t present, dinner with his coworkers was much important than his sons first game but why was he hearing him in the crowd?
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BILLY? WAKE THE FUCK UP.”
“YOU ARE WEAK JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER, SHE LEFT ME WITH A GOOD FOR NOTHING SON.”
“Pussy. Get up pussy.”
“Nice girl.”
His father's words echoed in his mind, panic rising. In the midst of the play, he signaled the refs with his right hand while clutching his tightening chest with his left, the crowd's screams growing louder.
“TIMEOUT. TIMEOUT.” Coach Williams screamed and the game came to a halt. The crowds screams turned into whispers and murmurs.
“Billy what’s gotten into you boy?” Coach Williams asked, “Can you do this or do I need to pull you out?”
“I need a minute.” Billy said gripping the chest of his uniform, making his way towards the nearest exit.
“HARRINGTON GET YOUR ASS UP YOU’RE IN,”
.
Billy held his gaze on yours, and yours remained locked with his. You both were so lost in each other’s eyes that the sound of the ref’s whistle made you jump. You cringed as Billy messed up, not because you cared about basketball, but because you knew how harsh the crowd could be.
Eddie looked from Billy to you, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
“Okay, what was that? ” Eddie spoke up, curious about the exchange of longing between you and the jock.
You sighed deeply.
“Eddie, I have a question,” you stated, your voice catching slightly. "Can I ask you about your dad?" you asked carefully, not wanting to upset Eddie or stir up painful memories.
“My dad?” Eddie questioned clearing his throat, confused at the sudden subject change, “Um yeah go head shoot,” he said as he crossed one arm over another. You looked over at Billy which didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie.
“After you got away from your dad, what was your personality like? Was it hard to trust people, let them in?” You asked refocusing your gaze to him.
Eddie briefly mentioned his dad while we were in the midst of hot-wiring his neighbor's RV a couple of months ago. And when you guys were gearing up for the upside-down, you had downtime leading to a deep talk about your parents, getting to know how bad Eddie had it growing up with his father. He was a schizophrenic, dope fiend, off his meds, obviously. His mother died of alcohol poising when he was about 7 years old, and he knew his father to be an addict his entire life, always in and out of jail, erratic, delusional, always up to trouble. His father didn’t take Eddie’s mother's death well; his mental state started to deteriorate, the drugs clashing with his illness more and more, and he started blaming Eddie for his mother's death, beginning to put his hands on him. Cigarette burns, bruises, black eyes—you name it, he had it.
CPS got involved, and his father was thrown into a psychiatric home. Eddie was alone, abused, for eight years until his uncle Wayne took him in at 15.
“Oh yeah, definitely. It took me a while to trust anyone,” he said with a dark chuckle. “My uncle Wayne was a patient man. I was rebellious, and I started to follow in my old man’s footsteps. It scared the shit out of me because I was hurting my uncle Wayne, but it was all I knew.” Eddie said, “My uncle Wayne taught me what love was, what it meant to be a true father. If I didn’t have that or some type of good in my life, I would’ve been screwed,” he reflected eternally grateful his uncle saved him.
You pulled Eddie in for a hug, grateful that he had shared with you, and he returned the gesture. After letting go, you took a deep breath, feeling a sense of clarity as you connected the dots.
“Billy’s in the same boat,” you admitted, “but he’s not letting me in,”
Eddie let out a sigh, looking at you sympathetically.
“You’re still a kid, y/n, and you’re not responsible for him. It took my uncle Wayne a while to snap me out of it. It wasn’t easy,” he said, looking over at you with genuine concern.
“Eddie, I’m far from a kid. I practically raised myself since my mom left. You’re forgetting who you’re talking to,” you said, slightly irritated at his reaction. Eddie regretted his choice of words, but he still meant them. You weren’t responsible. “He needs people like us around him. He’s not a bad person; he just doesn’t know any better, just like you at one point.” You said, your words making Eddie feel sympathy for Billy Hargrove.
.
The ref’s whistle blew, signaling the game was about to begin once again, and to everyone’s surprise, Steve was in?
“Holy shit! Yeah, Steve!” You exclaimed, leaping up from your seat in excitement. “Look, Eddie, Steve’s in!” With a playful slap on his chest, you urged Eddie to stand and join in applauding Steve’s entrance onto the court.
Eddie rolled his eyes and threw Steve a thumbs up filled with fake enthusiasm. You slapped his chest again, but this time it wasn’t playful; it actually hurt.
As the game commenced, you glanced over to the bench, Billy nowhere to be found. Concern gnawed at you, but you opted to give him his space, especially since he made it clear he didn’t want to be near you. You also needed time; you wanted to talk to him, but you didn't know how to go about it.
"I don’t understand the love for this stupid game. Don’t people know about D&D?" Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, feeling ashamed he was even here.
“Oh, people know about it alright,” you said sarcastically, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “devil worshipper.”
Eddie dramatically gasped. "Take it back now or I’ll scream," he threatened, his voice filled with mock horror.
.
The night was an absolute blast. Steve's buzzer-beater brought the crowd to their feet, while Eddie's extra credit points from O’Donnell raised his grade to a D+. Principal Higgins even praised your role in the evening's success.
Steve confidently informed you about Billy’s failures, claiming he caught a bug that prevented him from continuing to play today. However, this seemed odd to you, considering he appeared perfectly fine this morning.
Billy was obviously lying.
You congratulated Steve as you bid him farewell, somewhat pleased to see King Steve back in action. Not wanting him to miss out on tonight's fun, you asked Eddie to give you a ride home.
The ride was nice and quiet which was much needed after todays events.
He dropped you off at home, and you made your way to your door. You jangled your keys until you found the right one and stuck it through the keyhole.
You found your way inside and you were welcomed to an empty house yet again, the same note still stuck to the fridge.
You went to your room and started to tidy it up until you heard the sound of Billy’s car pulling up, music blasting from it. He drove like such a maniac, he reminded you of Eddie.
You took a peek out your window and saw that he wasn’t alone.
Oh?
Tina was with him, and they were making out like fucking animals. This angered you beyond words. Did he have no consideration for his neighbors?
You opened your curtains aggressively, then your window which made a loud noise when it hit the top. You didn't know what came over you, but you couldn't care less.
"Hey! You two, mind shutting the fuck up?!" You yelled with all your might from your window, pulling Billy and ditzy Tina away from their heated make-out session.
"You mind fucking off?!" Billy yelled back. Your bitter laughter accompanied a defiant middle finger thrown his way, to which he replied the same. With a frustrated sigh, you shut your window and cranked up the volume on your Walkman, drowning out the rowdiness from outside.
.
Your interruption infuriated him, rudely disrupting his moment with Tina and making things much more difficult between them.
“Billy maybe we should go somewhere else?” Tina purred, “Maybe lovers lake?” She implied, shoving her tits in his face.
"Nah, here will do. I can’t wait, doll," he said roughly, ripping the bra off her chest along with her panties. Billy’s dick was rock hard, it angered him so much, because all he could think about was you.
Tina lay sprawled out in his backseat, completely nude, and he couldn’t help but think about you, right next door, likely to hear every bit of it.
He lined his dick up at her entrance and hissed at the feeling. He closed his eyes and began to thrust mind falling back to you.
The way your nipples poked through your shirt that night, your perky tits filling his mind with so much imagination. Your flushed face and the way you clenched your thighs when he spoke to you, oh doll you don’t know what you’re missing. He was sure you hadn’t been touched properly with the way your body responded to him, hell, you probably hadn’t been touched at all.
Fuck, he thought, as he thrusted harder into the poor girl. If only she knew who he was imagining instead of her.
Her moans filled the car, echoing through the entire block. Billy was in for a treat tonight with his father.
"Oh god, Billy, right there, yes, yes!" She exclaimed with pleasure. Billy drowned out the sound of her voice and replaced it with the way you screamed at him a couple of minutes ago, you turned him on so much, especially when you were jealous.
Anger quickly consumed him again as he started to think about everything that took place yesterday, today’s game, and you. God, you were infuriating. You invaded his brain like some parasite, and he couldn’t decide whether it was a butterfly larvae destined to flutter around inside of him or a brain-eating parasitic worm who would gnaw at him for a eternity.
He fucked Tina harder, and harder feeling her clench beautifully around his cock. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his tan chest, the feeling quickly filling his body with pleasure, his movements starting to slow.
Unable to contain himself any longer, his groans grew louder.
“Ah, shit, fuck y/n,” he said with his eyes closed, tilting his head back cumming hard into the condom. As his high came down, he mentally scolded himself and closed his eyes once again, but this time in irritation.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Tina screamed, pushing him off of her, “You’re fucking that freak?!” She yelled dramatically.
Billy rolled his eyes.
"Need a ride home, or are you walking?" Billy asked, his tone nonchalant as he completely disregarded her reaction, casually pulling up his pants and getting dressed.
Tina rolled her eyes back at him. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Hargrove. Take me home,” she huffed, quickly redressing herself.
Billy smiled, hopping into the front seat, and drove off.
.
Once he was done with that, he drove back home, preparing himself for what was about to happen.
"Left eye? Right eye? Nah, too noticeable. People will start asking questions. The stomach? Yeah, that's more of Neil's style," he laughed bitterly, talking to himself.
This is what he wanted. He didn’t care anymore. He always managed to piss his father off somehow, and it would never be on purpose. This was him taking his power back. He’ll give him something to be upset about, he thought, determination coursing through him.
Stepping out of the car, Billy was enveloped by the quietness of the night.
He walked up the steps of his porch and took a deep breath before opening the door. As he entered, there was Neil, seated on the couch as if he were some kind of king. Billy closed the door behind him, locking it securely.
The silence stretched on for a few tense seconds, with nobody daring to break it. Neil waited for an immediate apology, hoping to see Billy cower in fear, but as the apology failed to come forth, Neil's anger only grew more intense.
"You know, with the amount of times I've beaten you, you would think that respect is drilled into that thick fucking brain of yours," Neil spoke up, his voice laced with venom and rage.
Billy stood there unfazed by his father’s words, bored even.
"Don’t you get tired, Dad? Tired of being a shitty fucking father?" Billy spat, laughing bitterly. Neil's eyes widened, and he stood up. "When you act like a shitty parent, this is what you get—a shitty son," Billy finished, his words dripping with resentment and defiance.
Billy’s heart pumped vigorously.
“I pity you. You’re a coward,” he spat out with contempt.
Neil charged at Billy, causing him to fall onto his back, and started throwing punch after punch at his face. “Who do you think you are, huh?!” Neil stopped to grab the collar of Billy’s shirt, bringing his face up to his.
"Your son," Billy spoke, his voice wobbly, blood coming out of his nose, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He was deeply saddened by the poor excuse of a father he had.
Neil laughed dryly. “God, you’re a spitting image of her. You’re just like her too, pathetic,” he spat. “And I’m a coward? Are you forgetting that she abandoned you? She left you with me. What does that say about her?”
Billy now fueled with rage pushed Neil off of him and punched him dead in the face. All hell broke loose after that, with both men fighting seemingly to the death. Billy ended up on his back again, and this time Neil didn’t stop. Billy's vision started to blur, and the last thing he heard was Max and Susan's frantic voices as they attempted to pull Neil off of him.
.
You were drifting into a deep sleep until a loud banging on your door jolted you awake. Your eyes widened, and you got up immediately, the sound of your Walkman still playing in the background.
You ran towards the door as if it were instinct, and there stood Max. She was sobbing, tears staining her red cheeks.
“Max, what’s going on? Is he back?” you asked, reminded of what still lies beneath this town. Max shook her head vigorously.
“No, it’s Billy. Please, y/n, you need to help me and my mom get him into his car. Neil just beat the shit out of him and took off. We need to take him to the hospital!” She cried.
Without hesitation, you grabbed her hand and ran to the house next door. As you entered, you saw broken frames, beach shell decorations scattered everywhere, and broken glass littering the floor.
And there was Billy, his face bruised and gushing with blood. You wanted to sob instantly. The beautiful boy, with the most mesmerizing smile, lay unconscious on the floor, broken.
“I’ll take his arms, you two grab his legs. We need to move fast,” you said, suppressing every ounce of emotion and acting on pure instinct.
You all carefully descended down the steps, giving it everything you got, Billy wasn’t exactly light but you pushed with everything in you to get him into the back of that car. You fell into the back seat with him his head falling in your chest and Susan hopped in the drivers seat and max in the passenger seat.
You search Billy’s pockets and grab his keys, tossing them to Susan.
"Step on it, let's go! We have to hurry!" you said, your voice remaining calm but urging Susan to make haste.
Susan backed out of the driveway and stepped on the gas pedal of Billy’s car hauling ass to get to the nearest hospital.
You checked his pulse and confirming it’s still present, you notice his breathing is a bit light, sparking an overwhelming amount of anxiety within you.
You whisper softly in his ear, “You're going to be okay,” feeling tears welling up, but you quickly wipe them away, pushing your emotions down once more.
"Hey Susan, take a right here and pull into that spot," you instruct, recognizing the familiar surroundings.
You’d been here one too many times.
We pull right up to the emergency room entrance. Max rushes out, calling frantically for help. Two male nurses immediately respond, rushing out with a stretcher and opening the back seat of Billy’s car. You help him sit up slowly, and they swiftly pull him around with urgency, their movements slightly rough in their haste.
"Hey, watch it! Be careful with him!" you yell at the nurses, frustration and concern evident in your voice.
"Ma'am, please let us do our job," they respond firmly, their tone professional but reassuring.
We all hurriedly follow behind the nurses as they wheel Billy into the emergency room. A doctor approaches Susan, hoping for some insight into what happened so he can provide the best care possible. Susan tells him everything, providing as much detail as she can to assist in Billy's treatment.
"Please wait in the waiting room. We'll call you once we've assessed him and he's stable," the doctor says sympathetically, reassuring you as you reluctantly make your way to the waiting area.
You, Susan, and Max waited anxiously. Max buried her face into the crook of your neck, unable to contain her sobs. You brushed her hair gently, trying to offer comfort, but you were struggling to hold yourself together as well.
Being there brought back uneasy memories, and the uncertainty of Billy's condition only deepened your depression.
Over 25 minutes had passed, each second feeling like an eternity in the tense waiting room until,
"Miss Hargrove, miss Hargrove?" called a nurse, breaking the tense atmosphere. But as the nurse approached, her expression unreadable, a chill ran down your spine, leaving you to wonder what news she was about to deliver about Billy's condition.———————————————————————————
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toobusybeingdelulu · 2 months
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If you still had any doubts about Billy flirting with Steve during the shower scene, he makes the same arm pose while wooing K*ren. Hope this helps.
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queers-gambit · 8 months
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When The World Seems So Cruel
prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 5.1k+
warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?
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"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."
"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.
You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."
"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."
You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."
"What's goin' on?"
You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.
It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."
"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."
You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."
You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"
He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."
"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"
Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."
Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."
"It's not, I promise."
He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"
"Yeah, but things change, Bee."
Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.
"Billy, I'm just tired."
"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"
You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."
"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "
"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"
One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."
"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."
"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"
"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."
"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."
"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."
Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "
"Billy."
"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"
You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."
He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.
However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.
"Hi," you giggled.
"You seem happy."
"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."
"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.
What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.
When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.
You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."
"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."
He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."
"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."
Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.
You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.
"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.
"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"
"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.
"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."
You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."
"You'll get so much more, baby."
You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."
He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."
Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.
He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.
Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.
"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.
"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."
"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."
"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."
"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."
"Even your ass?"
"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"
Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.
He'd fuck your ass later.
"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."
"Whatever Daddy wants."
Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"
"Hmm?"
"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"
You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.
"Fuck's sake."
"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.
"You're just askin' for it, huh?"
"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "
"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."
You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.
"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"
"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"
"Things can change," you pouted.
"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "
"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"
"Right."
"And I can stay the night... Right?"
Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."
"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"
His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"
"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.
"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"
"I could, like, just go with you?"
"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."
"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."
He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.
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"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"
"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.
"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.
"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.
"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"
"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"
"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.
Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"
"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."
"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."
"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"
"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "
"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."
Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.
"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.
"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"
Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."
"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"
Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.
Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.
When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.
The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.
When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"
"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.
"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"
"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.
She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."
"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.
"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.
"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.
Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.
You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."
You nodded absently, "Music's on."
"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"
"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.
"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."
You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.
"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.
Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.
"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"
Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."
Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.
"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"
"I can retake the tests."
"You're gonna have to study."
"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."
"No shit, Sherlock."
You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."
He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"
"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"
"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."
You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."
"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."
You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"
"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."
"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."
Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."
"I don't deserve you," you whispered.
"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."
You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.
Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Stranger Things masterlist
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k-wame · 6 months
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The Kissing Booth Press
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happy birthday baby boy ♥️
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we ♥️ u
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mrprettywhenhecries · 6 months
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Dacre Appreciation Week | Day Four: Favourite Quirks ⟶ I just love how absolutely particular Dacre is about his space and routine. Plus the way he talks with his hands is adorable. And don’t get me started on the unironic use of the phrase heebie jeebies.
+ bonus: knolling king
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disdaidal · 6 months
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Dacre Montgomery as Billy Hargrove STRANGER THINGS (2016-) 3.04 The Sauna Test
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supercap2319 · 6 months
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"Fuck you look so sexy right now." Billy whispered. His hot breath on his boyfriend's neck as he covered his neck in bites and suck marks. They were in the lifeguard changing area where Billy told Y/N to meet him.
As soon as Y/N walked in; he was Billy's. He let him push him against the wall and ravish his mouth as he got a boner in his tight pink swim trunks. He let Billy tease his erection as he desperate want him. He wanted right here and now in a semi public setting.
"God, I wish I could bring you up to my lifeguard chair. Let you wrap your pretty boy lips around my cock and let everyone at the pool watch you whore yourself out for me." Billy's deep and husky voice said.
"Ah, fuck, Billy. Let's do it. Who gives a shit if you get fired?" Y/N's voice was dark with lust.
"Good boy." Billy smiled.
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dirtbagdefender · 1 month
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billy + his jean jacket
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ganjas-shit · 6 days
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Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart
Warnings: sexual thoughts, angst, mentions of ptsd, Neil Hargrove, mentions of loneliness and isolation.
Pairings: main pairing Billy x reader, some slight Steve x reader
Summary: Your longing for an exciting romance finally comes true when Billy Hargrove becomes your next-door neighbor. But is love everything you thought it would be?
Authors note: hi everyone! I’m most likely going to be turning this into a series (don’t know how long yet) but I’m so very excited because this has been sitting in my drafts for about a year already and I’ve finally decided to just finish it. There will be eventual smut for this soooooooooooo yea tee hee anyways hope you guys like it! Btw the timeline I’m using is not the same as the one in the show.
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Chapter 1: California boy, Chapter 2: You’re gonna to be okay.
☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚
Love was something you deeply craved, something you longed for. As ridiculous as it sounds, you thought about it almost every day.
Having that one partner in crime; someone you can be reckless, wild, and free with. Someone who makes you forget about reality; someone who would do anything for you. Someone who knows the deepest, darkest parts of you.
For a while it became something you obsessed over.
Intimate, passionate, crazy love—blamed for the constant loneliness you felt. Your obsession with fictional romance failed to alleviate it. No amount of reading or watching could fill the cavity in your heart, that horrible feeling of emptiness in your chest.
Then Billy Hargrove became your next-door neighbor.
It all happened so fast.
Your belly erupted with a swarm of butterflies the moment his ocean-blue eyes met yours, as if the world paused just for that brief moment.
His dirty blonde curls and tan skin ignited something deep inside you. Soon enough, the emptiness in your chest was replaced by the fierce pounding of your heart.
Pretty boys came with a lot of attention, though, meaning Billy Hargrove came with a lot of attention.
Every girl threw themselves at him the moment he set foot in Hawkins High. And who could blame them? With a face like his, he was downright gorgeous. If you had the courage, you'd throw yourself at him too.
But for now, simply admiring him from a distance would suffice.
You took pride in that though. Who else can say they had a perfect view of Billy Hargrove almost every night through their window?
You spent countless nights watching him smoke cigarettes outside on the hood of his Camaro, admiring the way the moonlight hit his face as he was in deep thought about God knows what.
It was pretty hard not to look at Billy other than those nights through your window though...
In Mrs. Clarke's biology class, you'd often catch yourself staring at him. He'd sense your gaze and once smirked back at you, letting you know he felt your eyes on him.
And God, he would never forget the look on your face—wide-eyed and embarrassed as hell.
He thought it was the funniest thing in the world and he found it quite entertaining.
He found you quite entertaining.
Billy was so accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him; it was something he had gotten used to since he hit puberty. And although he enjoyed all the flirtatious looks and comments girls threw at him, he eventually grew bored of it.
However, you and Billy shared a common craving. Whether it was for love, excitement, intimacy, or entertainment, both of you yearned for something more.
.
“Shit guys, we totally forgot to hang up banners in the gym for tomorrow's basketball game!” You screamed like a madwoman startling the entire student council.
With just two minutes left until dismissal, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The entire week had been a relentless blur of preparation for the school's stupid pep rally and its accompanying activities. By this point, everyone, including you, was over it.
As the bell rang, everyone dashed out of the classroom as if their lives depended on it. They gave you apologetic looks, patted your shoulder, and mumbled every excuse imaginable to avoid putting up those banners in the school gym.
“So fuck me huh?!” you yelled after them, throwing both your arms up in frustration before dropping them in defeat.
As head of the student council, you couldn't afford to procrastinate. The principal had emphasized that those banners had to be up and ready for tomorrow's game, or there would be consequences. That prick didn't intimidate you in the slightest, but, you had a reputation to maintain, and everything had to be flawless.
You huffed and grumbled as you entered the gym, your arms hugging a variety of large banners needing to be hung up. Your frustration completely blinded you to the sight of the gym full of shirtless basketball players.
Suddenly, a basketball collided with your shoulder at full speed, knocking the banners out of your arms.
The gym erupted in laughter.
“This isn't the student council club you do know that right kooks?” Tommy H. yelled from the court, laughing, trying so hard to impress his dickhead teammates.
Kooks.
They had given you that nickname after the scene you caused at Tina's Halloween party last year. It's the reason you no longer associate yourself with that crowd.
You remember it like it was yesterday.
You arrived at Tina's party with Tommy and Carol by your side, just one week after your harrowing experience of getting stuck in the Upside Down. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to be out, and you knew it. You had been home, cutting class, and ignoring their calls, and they had noticed a change in you. You were easily irritable and on edge. Carol even made a snide comment about how you'd probably been hanging out with Munson, snorting too much Special K.
According to them, you were a real drag to be around. So, they dragged you out of the house, urging you to let loose and forget about whatever it was you were dealing with. And so you did. You drank until you couldn't feel anymore, indulging in anything and everything that was being passed around.
Carol was never truly your friend; she was someone you grew up with and were kind of forced to know. She never really cared for you, so it was no surprise when you overheard her snickering with a few girls from the cheer squad.
They all eyed you up and down as you drunkenly swayed to the music.
“Wonder what hell she's been living; she's out of fucking control,” Carol remarked, smacking her gum as she laughed with the girls next to her, rolling her eyes at you.
Your ears perked up at her words, and they echoed in your head on a relentless loop, amplified by the effects of alcohol and marijuana.
Hell. Hell. Hell.
Images from that fateful night flooded your mind—the frantic sprint through the woods, the desperate attempt to escape the unknown terror pursuing you. You ran until your lungs burned and your legs gave out, only to find yourself in a place that resembled home but felt like a nightmare. It was as though you had fallen into a pit and landed in a realm you could only describe as hell. Darkness enveloped everything, the air thick with swirling black particles, and a monstrous creature hunted you down as if you were its final prey.
Tears welled up at the memory, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You had been bottling up your emotions, feeling isolated because what you had experienced sounded utterly unbelievable.
You charged at Carol and shoved her into the wall, causing picture frames of Tina's seemingly perfect family to crash to the floor.
Like the breaking picture frames, the smiles masking their true essence shattered that night, much like your own exterior, revealing the turmoil within.
You started to laugh manically, tears spilling out of your eyes.
“Oh, Carol, you haven't seen hell,” you chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “It's right beneath this town, and it's anything but pretty. It's downright awful.”
Carol was frightened tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she felt powerless in this position.
“Hey! What the hell is your problem, Y/L/N? Get off of her!”Tommy yelled, rushing towards you and Carol, pulling you away from her.
You pushed him back. “Don't you dare put your fucking hands on me!” you yelled, your words laced with venom. He backed away, refocusing his attention on Carol, attempting to comfort her throbbing head.
The images flashed in your head: your screams, the Demogorgon, the overwhelming sense of isolation. You turned to face the party, and all eyes were on you as the music came to a sudden stop.
“How can you all just sit here and party,”you screamed, your voice growing louder, more terrifying with each word. Nobody dared to approach you or even attempt to calm you down. It was clear you were experiencing a psychotic break.
You hadn't spoken to Steve in months, ever since he started distancing himself from you, Tommy, and Carol. But you couldn't forget the moment when he threw you over his shoulder, with Nancy by his side, and dragged you out of that party.
That night, you cried until you fell asleep, finding comfort in the presence of Nancy Wheeler and your old friend Steve Harrington. When you woke up the next day, you found yourself in Nancy's bed, and they bombarded you with all sorts of questions. You ended up sharing the horrifying experiences you had down there, and for the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone. Now, you were stuck with a new nickname and a family bonded by the traumas of the Upside Down.
You laughed at the memory but the anger you felt in the moment snapped you back to reality.
The basketball rolled to the side, catching your attention. With all eyes on you, including Billy's intrigued gaze, you felt an itch for release. Without a second thought, you picked up the ball and with one swift motion, threw it at full speed. It struck the side of Tommy's head, catching him completely by surprise as he was too preoccupied trying to make his teammates laugh.
“You do realize there's a basketball game tomorrow, right? Maybe you should practice your passes a little more, you fucking prick!” you shot back, mimicking his tone with a hint of venom.
The laughter in the gym was quickly replaced by a chorus of “oooh's,” and Tommy was visibly seething with anger, clutching the side of his head where the basketball had struck him.
“You're so lucky you're a girl, freak!” Tommy yelled, pointing his finger at you in frustration.
You smiled and flipped him the bird.
Your reaction sparked something in Billy's gut, a mix of amusement and something else. He couldn't help but burst into laughter, though you might not have noticed being too preoccupied with picking the banners up.
Before he even realized it, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn towards you, as if some invisible force was guiding his steps.
Like his legs had minds of their own.
“That was quite a throw,” a deep, angelic voice sounded from behind you. Shit, you had totally forgotten he was here.
“Those throws are especially reserved for dickheads,” you retorted without turning around, your face turning as red as a tomato.
Billy's chuckle caught you off guard, something you never thought you'd hear up close. As you started to walk off to finish what you came here for, you heard him clear his throat, stopping you in your tracks.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” he questioned, giving you no choice but to turn around and see what he was referring to.
And god all mighty
There he was, shirtless. His tan skin glistened with sweat, revealing defined abs and muscular arms. Geez, you could've passed out right then and there.
He wore a proud smirk, revealing a perfect set of teeth as he held out the tape you needed for the banners. You almost drooled at the sight of him, feeling your core heat up and your cheeks flush.
“Oh, uh—thanks” you nervously said, quickly grabbing the tape from his hand. Surprisingly, you still maintained eye contact. God, he loved the effect he had on you.
“You need any help with those?” he chuckled once again. That's twice now; one more and you might just jump on him.
“Don’t you have to get ready for tomorrow’s game?” You asked timidly.
Jesus, why did you care?
“They can’t overwork their star player sweetheart.” He winked, once again flashing his pearly whites
You died and went to heaven at this point.
Sweetheart? That wink?
Your mouth hung open and he left you speechless, like a crazed fan girl. You started to wonder how he’d look at you if you were on your knees taking all of him.
How he’d talk to you..
“Look at you taking all of me sweetheart.”
God you really needed to get your shit together.
“Come on sweetheart don’t leave me hanging,” he said as he waved his hand in your face, trying to bring you back to reality.
He really needed to stop calling you that.
“Um, yeah, I guess I could use a little help,” you said, swallowing harshly. Your gaze shifted from the banners in your hands to his lips.
You really hated how flustered you got around him but a small part of you loved these new feelings.
“Great.” he responded with a cheeky grin.
You found yourself not being much help; he took charge and handled the banner hanging almost entirely by himself. He insisted on doing it, claiming it was the gentlemanly thing to do.
Tommy looked over at the two of you, confused. Billy Hargrove being a gentleman, especially to the psycho? Hell must've frozen over, he thought.
With Billy taking on the work, you had no choice but to stand there, looking all pretty, as you ripped pieces of tape with your mouth and passed them to him. You guided him on how to position the banners into place.
You couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles flexed when he reached up to position the banner, sending a flutter through your stomach.
You’d never been this close to him.
It also didn’t help that he brushed his fingers against yours every time he went to grab a piece of tape from you. And with him on the stool, towering above you, looking down at you, there was plenty of room for imagination for you both.
You were convinced he was trying to fucking kill you. Was he aware of the effect he had on you?
Every touch from him sent every single nerve in your body into a frenzy.
And those were just your fingers; you could only imagine what would happen if his fingers touched the spot you longed for him the most.
In the past few weeks, Billy had noticed that he was always running into you one way or another. So, he decided he might as well make it fun.
You were different from the girls he usually pursued, and he liked that. It made things all the more exciting. Billy had learned a few things about you: you were timid but had a backbone, responsible (an assumption he made because you were the student council president), and not too worried about your appearance, which didn't really matter because you were already breathtakingly beautiful.
“LADIES, HUDDLE UP! HARGROVE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Coach Williams's voice rang out, snapping both you and Billy out of your thoughts.
Billy climbed off the step stool and leaned in towards your ear, catching you completely by surprise. He whispered, "Glad I can be of help, sweetheart. If you need help with anything else, I'm only one house away." With a smirk, he pulled back and left to return to his team captain duties.
The hot of this breath made your body shiver.
The look on your face was embarrassing, with your cheeks hot and your mouth slightly hanging open. Billy would never forget it; in fact, the mere sight of your mouth hanging open made him twitch in his pants as his imagination ran wild once again.
Your thoughts wouldn't allow you peace of mind as you finished tidying up the banners into place. Lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed that everyone had already left the gym, leaving you alone in the empty space.
The sound of the door gym doors opening startled you, snapping you back to reality.
You smiled at the sight of the tall brunette.
“Ah if it isn’t King Steve” you say teasingly, “or should I say EX King Steve who has been dethroned by the new California hottie.” You tease poking at his face
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Steve replied dryly swatting your fingers away, taking fake offense to your comment.
Steve could care less about his so called “throne” he had new priorities, which consisted of ooking after you and his newfound family of children.
“Very funny y/n,” he said sarcastically.
Steve couldn't help but wonder if you and Billy had been hanging out. He had noticed how fond you had grown of him ever since he stepped into town. Lately, he had observed a change in your demeanor, how excited you were to get home, and how your face lit up at the sound of Billy's name. Steve could practically feel the butterflies radiating off of you.
“Hanging around is pushing it, Steve. We're just neighbors,” you reply, with a slight blush on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve.
“Yeah, I don't blush when someone mentions Agatha, my next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, shivering at the thought of his creepy stalker neighbor.
You roll your eyes at him, though it's quickly replaced with a smirk. “Well, Billy isn't a creepy stalker,”you say, though you wouldn't mind if he was. “Plus, he's kinda hot,”you finish, nudging his shoulder as you two make your way out of the gym.
“Yeah, gross,” Steve dramatically gags, though he also cringes at the slight twinge of jealousy he keeps feeling in his stomach.
You and Steve never hooked up. However, you two did develop some weird feelings for each other, but it was probably because you were so close to dying together.
You frown at the memory you thought was going to be the last.
Vines from the Upside Down began to wrap around your neck and body. Steve was right next to you, suffering the same fate. He looked at you, his heart breaking at the fear in your eyes. Trying to bring you some comfort, he gathered as much strength as he could and reached his hand out for yours, interlocking them together.
Thankfully, Eddie and Dustin saved you and everyone who thought it would be a bright idea to fight off Vecna. Ever since that day, though, Steve has been attached to your hip, making sure you get home safely after school and always ensuring you aren't alone.
Sometimes he'd find himself gazing at your lips or absentmindedly brushing away strands of hair that danced across your face on a windy day.
Steve didn’t know where you two stood. Neither of you had made a move, and he was too afraid to make one and face rejection.
You weren't sure how you felt about Steve, but you knew how you felt about Billy, and that feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to brush off.
“Coach still benching you for tomorrow's game?” you ask, changing the subject immediately. You regret it the moment you see the disappointment on Steve's face.
Basketball was his first love and ever since Billy got to town he’s slowly been losing the love he once held for the game.
He ran a hand through his messy head of hair and sighed.
“Yeah, thanks to your boy toy over there,” Steve says, glaring at the blonde who was a car away from Steve's. You wrap your arms around him as you two reach his burgundy BMW.
“You're a great player, Steve,” you state matter of factly, squeezing him a little tighter. “I think everything that's been going on—the Upside Down, us fighting interdimensional monsters, and almost dying—has taken a toll on you.” You reassure him and then let go to look into his eyes.
“It's normal to have a little setback; it's understandable. Plus, you've saved the world multiple times!” you said, slapping his chest lightly. “That beats being a starter on the stupid Hawkins High basketball team any day.”You finished, smiling at him.
Steve’s eyes softened at your words and smiled.
Christ, this is exactly why his feelings were a mess for you.
Steve brought you in for a tight hug because words couldn’t express how grateful he was for you.
From the next car down, Billy observed the two of you and couldn't shake the thought: had you and Harrington ever been a thing? The idea unsettled him because Billy Hargrove didn’t want to share you.
.
Steve dropped you off at home, as he usually did. He would usually stay for a bit and keep you company, but tonight he promised Dustin he’d take him to Mike’s for their D&D campaign.
You walked into the house, which was eerily quiet and empty, as it always was. Switching on the kitchen light, you noticed a note attached to the fridge.
Be back in the morning. Love you. -Dad
You sighed as a your traced your finger up down the note.
Your father traveled for work most of the time as a tech service representative for a variety of chemical companies. He'd often be gone for days, sometimes even weeks, so being alone was something you had grown accustomed to.
Your relationship with your father was also very complicated. You would even say it was nonexistent, given that he was always gone, and when he was around, he'd sleep the days away.
You pretended like it didn’t bother you but deep down it was something that made the cavity in your heart unbearable.
You weren't completely alone, though. Steve and you bonded over your shared loneliness, as both of his parents were also always away on business trips, calling only once a week, if he was lucky.
He'd often spend the night at your place, or you'd spend the night at his, rewatching ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Sixteen Candles,’ his personal favorite, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone.
The bond between you two wasn't solely fueled by loneliness; fear played a significant role as well. It was the fear of that night—the night your friends almost died—that kept you together.
You felt goosebumps travel throughout your body at the thought of it. You instantly shook it off and decided to wash your feelings away with a warm, hot shower. You dreaded the night to come because of the insomnia you developed this past year of living in this small town. But thankfully, you had a couple of your favorite romance novels on deck to keep you occupied throughout the night.
You slipped into one of Eddie’s well-worn Metallica tees, its length reaching down to your knees. It was a keepsake from the day you and the gang had spent the night at his trailer, after an exciting evening of sneaking into the Hawkins community pool.
It was one of your favorite memories you’ve made in this shit town.
After slipping on the tee, you put on some black laced panties you pulled from you drawer.
You glanced over to your window, partially covered by your curtains, and wondered what the dirty blonde was up to. Curious, you walked over and took a peek, wondering where he was because he was usually out at this time, either smoking a cigarette or sitting in his car, or doing both at once.
Like clockwork, he slammed his front door, grabbing the red lighter he always kept in his back pocket and reaching it to the cigarette hanging out of his pink lips.
He cupped the cigarette out of habit and lit it, inhaling the silent killer.
He then hopped onto the hood of his car and reclined, still smoking the cigarette as he gazed at the starlit sky, lost in deep thought.
You wanted to join him, eager to learn more about the California boy, even if he didn't show interest in you. Something inside you just needed to know who Billy Hargrove was.
You also wanted to try to settle the intense feelings coursing through your body.
You stared at him for what felt like a lifetime, admiring his chiseled jawline, how his pretty blue eyes looked in the moonlight, and the rhythmic pattern of his inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke.
Fuck you cigarette.
You envied his cigarettes.
You wanted to be inhaled and exhaled like that, and you didn’t even care if you were disregarded like them when he was done.
Billy felt your gaze through the window, and as he smirked, you couldn't help but notice. Despite being caught, you couldn't suppress a smile of your own.
Billy sat up and looked directly into your window. Your face grew flustered as you two made eye contact, but you held it, unable to look away.
You pushed yourself to do something you found so uncomfortable and you ignored the negative thoughts running through your head.
Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and he was about to pick up a new one.
That being you.
You quickly threw on some discarded sweats from the floor and made your way to the front door. As you wrapped your hand around the doorknob, you hesitated for a minute. Nervousness gripped you, but you were determined to make things different this year. You wanted to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. No longer content with just fantasizing about romance, you wanted to live it, even if it meant risking a broken heart in the process. After all, at least you'd have a story to tell.
The cool night breeze kissed your face, sending shivers down your spine as you stepped out of your door. Closing it behind you, you were wrapped in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Your heart raced as you descended off the few steps of your front porch.
As you turned the corner, you were met with Billy Hargrove's infuriating smirk. It would've been irritating if you didn't harbor this crush for him. With determination, you walked in front of his car, mere inches away from where he sat. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.
“Hi,” you spoke up slightly out of breath. Billy knew it was nervousness that caused you to sound that way.
You think back to the conversation you had earlier in the day.
“If you ever need help with anything, I’m only one house away.”
You wanted something. You knew what you wanted, and you knew what him meant by it, but you didn’t want to jump his bones immediately. You wanted to get to know him, and maybe that was foolish of you given his reputation, but you didn’t care. You knew you couldn't judge someone based on rumors.
“Hi, Y/N,” Billy greeted with a chuckle, his eyes roaming over your figure. He noticed your shirt and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“You listen to Metallica?” Billy questioned, his gaze shifting to Eddie's worn-out black tee. "Oh, this?" you said, grabbing onto the thin material of your shirt. “No, it's a friend's. He let me borrow it,” you partially explained, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Hmm, didn't peg Harrington for the metal type either,” Billy remarked, assumingly lighting yet another cigarette.
"You think Steve's my only male friend?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have more than one?" Billy questioned back, the movement of lighting his cigarette coming to a short pause, his eyes widening momentarily. Billy could take Harrington, but any other male suitors would be a problem for him.“Is that a problem, Hargrove?” you questioned, once again amused by his reaction. Was he jealous?
He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. He looked so beautiful like this, the view from your window couldn’t compare to the view you had right now. Despite the chill outside, you felt a warmth spreading through you.
“Not that I can’t compete with Harrington and?” He asked waiting for you to provide the name of said friend.
Compete?
“Eddie,” you said filling in the blank for him. “Ah, Munson, the freak,” he chuckled, taking yet another drag from his cigarette.
“You do know you’re talking to right? You remark, raising an eyebrow at him hinting that you fell into the same category as Eddie.
“Never said I had a problem with ‘freaks’,” he said smiling, as he looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze. “If I’m being honest they’re my favorite types of people.” He added licking his lips.
You gulped as his intense gaze met yours. He was undeniably gorgeous. The ache between your legs begged for relief, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed, especially when he then asked,
“Come sit,” he said, making space for you on the hood of his car. You obliged, sitting on the cool surface, crossing your legs, relieving some type of pressure. “You smoke?” he asked, handing you the lit cigarette. You took the cigarette, his warm fingers slightly touching your cold ones.
“Nope, but there's a first time for everything, right?” you smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette. The sensation immediately made you almost cough out a lung and you hadn’t even inhaled it completely. Billy laughed once again and slid his hand onto your back, lightly patting it attempting to ease your coughing fit.
You handed the cigarette back to him and laughed, the coughing fit dying down. “Yeah, first and last time doing that. God, that is nothing like weed,” you remarked.
Billy removed his hand from your back, and you couldn't help but groan slightly at the loss of touch. He looked at you with an amused smile. "I could only imagine how you reacted to hitting a joint," he said with a grin.
“Oh, trust me, it was nothing like that. I almost died just now,”you said as you wiped the tears that formed in your eyes from coughing.
You leaned back on his car like he did on countless nights and looked up at the starlit sky. Billy did the same after putting out his cigarette. "The only good thing about this shit town is how pretty the sky looks at night," you said. He looked up at the sky and thought the same. There were so many stars, each one representing hope.
"And the rain," he added, which surprised you. “But you're from California, it’s all sun over there!” You exclaimed, giggling a bit.
“Yeah, I know,” he smiled at your excitement. “It hardly rains over there, but I loved it when it did,” he said, reminiscing about his life in California.
“I liked sitting in my car and listening to the rain; it brings me some sort of peace of mind. Especially here, it's stronger and louder, drowns out the thoughts,” he added, tapping his head in a playful manner.
You smiled at his explanation.
“It makes me feel like a kid again,” you added, your voice soft with nostalgia. "Running around, no jacket, laughing, feeling the water down your face and drenching your clothes. Sometimes I sit outside and look up at the sky, enjoying the way it feels on my face," you said, still smiling at the sky above.
Billy turned his head to look at you now, and you were oblivious to it for the first time. He felt his heart skip a beat at your explanation and the way you smiled at the sky full of stars. From that moment on, Billy was determined to know more about you.
You two continued talking, giggling, sneaking glances at each other, but it all came to a halt when you both heard a loud slam from the door of his house. A man in his mid-40s descended down the stairs of Billy’s front porch and made his way towards you both. Billy straightened up immediately at the sight of this man.
“It’s late,” the man spat, keeping his eyes on Billy, completely ignoring your presence. “Get inside; you need to take Maxine and yourself to school tomorrow.”
“Hi, sir,”you timidly intervened. “I'm Y/N. I live next door. I'm sorry for keeping Billy out so late. We were just talking about class, and I lost track of time.” You finished
Billy looked at you in shock as if you said something out of turn.
He looked you up and down with a deadpanned look before giving you a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Then, he gave Billy a warning glance before leaving. Odd. You thought.
You noticed the shift in Billy’s demeanor he was noticeably uncomfortable and even seemed scared. Billy took a deep breath after his father left and ran a hand over his face, visibly tense.
“You okay?” You carefully asked not wanting to overstep any boundaries.
“Yeah, I will be,”he exhaled, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you for tonight. I'll see you around, Y/N.” With that, he left. You waited until he made it inside and you returned home yourself.
As you stepped into the house, the loneliness of it consumed you once again. But you disregarded it, shaking it off, because a bigger part of you felt content and happy.
.
Billy grew accustomed to loneliness; sometimes, he even preferred it. But when he saw how present his friends' parents were in their lives, the loneliness spread and often consumed him. His mother was gone, her whereabouts unknown, leaving him abandoned and stuck with his monstrous father. He had the shell of a parental figure, but in reality, his father was a bully, a coward. This left Billy feeling trapped and hopeless, like a prisoner in his own home, with no one to relate to, no one to vent to, nothing.
When Billy made it inside his house he had already prepared himself for the worst. His father was seated on the sofa waiting for him to come in.
“I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of—“ Neil raised his hand to stop him from explaining, and like a trained soldier, Billy shut his mouth immediately. Neil stood up, making his way towards him. Billy flinched as Neil raised his hand, and to Billy’s surprise, he patted his shoulder. Billy furrowed his brows in confusion; he hated his father's touch. “Nice girl,” Neil remarked before walking past him and heading to his room.
What the fuck?
Anger coursed through Billy’s veins, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Why you? What the hell was so special about you that had Neil Hargrove's fatherly approval? Billy scoffed. He didn’t care if he'd get beatings for what he had planned or about your feelings at the moment, but he was going to royally piss his father off. Fuck his approval. He didn’t want it nor did he care for or it.
Billy disregarded his strong feelings for you and decided to be the dick he knew himself to be.
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In The Summer Heat - Billy Hargrove X Female Reader
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Title: In The Summer Heat
Billy Hargrove X Female Reader
Additional Characters: Reader's mother (Mentioned), Billy's mother (Mentioned), and high schoolers (Mentioned)
Requested by: @fandom-princess-forevermore
WC: 2,856
Warnings: Set during either Season 2 or 3, mentions of true crime, mentions of missing people, mild cursing, brief fear, teasing, banter, flirting, nicknames, slight suggestiveness, injuries (cuts/bruises), blood briefly mentioned, brief mentions of heat stoke, slight/mini? angst, and fluff
The breeze that was gently blowing through your window was hardly doing anything to cool down your skin as it passed by. The summers in Hawkins, Indiana were hot and humid. Your mother had always said she wanted to move somewhere warmer. But the only place she could afford was Indiana, where it was already eighty degrees with high humidity. You hated the heat, and trying to distract yourself by reading one of your favorite books was doing close to nothing for you. 
And you were trying everything you could do to avoid the terrible heat getting to you; lighter clothes, window open, even a standing fan in the corner of your room, but nothing seemed to work. There was no escaping it. As much as you wished there was, you couldn't get away from the heat. It was impossible. You took another swig of the cold drink your mother brought up to you before she headed to bed, your hand wet from the condensation on the side of the glass. 
Pressing your wet hand on your forehead, you let the cold condensation cool you down somewhat, shutting your eyes briefly before you opened them back up again and wiped your hand on your shirt. Drying your hand, you grabbed your book again, flipping to the page that you were on, and re-reading the page that you had stopped on. 
Finally falling back into the rhythm of reading - or trying to, at least - you almost completely forgot about the heat until you heard a noise outside of your window. Snapping your eyes from your book, you stared over at your open window; your soft curtains only lightly fluttered in the practically nonexistent breeze. It was dark out. You could only see the tops of the street lamps from across the street as they lit up the neighborhood. Your mind began to race and your heart began to pound; a shiver ran down your spine. 
The many nights listening about true crime on the TV, and hearing about the missing people from the town on the radio, was making your mind race. Could you be next? Unlikely, but still…
A hand reached out from the darkness of the night outside your window, raising up and clutching onto the windowsill; your heart stopped. Your breathing stuttered, and your eyes widened in fear. You were frozen, stuck between fight and flight. As a head pops up, you let out a breath of relief. Your hand snapped up to press against your chest, your heart still racing under your palm.
Billy pushed himself up and over your windowsill, an eyebrow raised as he looked at your - then shocked - and then suddenly relieved expression. Once his feet hit your carpet, you huffed, shutting your book and setting it beside you; your full attention on the young, Californian man you delightfully called your boyfriend. Billy only tilted his head, a small grin growing on his lips. "Scared ya?" He taunted playfully, making you roll your eyes, pushing yourself up a bit more on your bed to fully press your back against your headrest. 
"Scared me? Nah, just startled me a little bit." You shrugged your shoulders, watching as Billy kicked off his shoes and made his way over to you; also dressed for the hot weather - somewhat. How the hell was he surviving in those Jeans? 
"I think being startled is the same as being scared, babe." His voice was low as he walked further into your room, with a slight hint of amusement behind his tone. And then you finally noticed it. The small cut on his temple. 
Your eyes widened as you frantically shuffled your legs, slipping off the bed less than gracefully, but you didn't care, your Billy was hurt. You stood in front of him, taking his face in your hands as you gently turned his head to the side to get a better look at the small scrape on his temple; it was no longer than an inch or so long. It was lightly caked with dried blood, not too much, but it still made your chest tighten at the sight of it. "Billy, what happened? Are you alright?" You asked anxiously, moving your eyes from the cut to his ocean blue eyes.
Billy just gave you his signature grin, though it didn't travel to his eyes; his hands coming up to take hold of your wrists. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." You pursed your lips, your eyes searching his for a moment, before you brought your attention back to the small wound. You knew something was up, but you didn't want to force him to tell you anything if he didn't want to. He would come to you and tell you when the time was right. So you didn't push, you didn't say a word, only nodding and making your way to your bathroom. You rummaged through your mirror cabinet, finding your small first-aid kit, before returning to your bedroom; and finding Billy already sitting on your bed. Billy wasn't expecting this... Well, he was - you’ve tried to clean up a lot of his injuries before, and you were always so- Well, he didn't really know what to think anymore. "Sweetheart, you don't have to do that-'' Billy started as you walked over to him, but you shook your head.
"If not for you, do this for me," You replied, interrupting him, "Please, Billy." You pleaded, only for him to purse his lips, staring down at your carpeted floor.
"Fine..." He muttered reluctantly, and you nodded, opening the box and gathering your supplies. As he waited, Billy looked around your room. Billy liked your room. It was neat, organized, and comfortable - very unlike the mess that was his room. You had a few posters on your walls, shelves covered in books, and a small boombox on your desk; overall your room really reminded him of you. Calming, and bright.
Looking back at you, Billy could see that you were concentrating very hard on the task at hand, the tip of your tongue peeking out from your lips. Taking out an alcohol wipe, you twisted your body to faced him, "This is going to sting a bit, okay?" Billy said nothing as you then cupped his cheek with one hand, turning his head ever-so-slightly, before dabbing the cut on his temple with the wipe. He shut his eyes, the stinging making him tense his shoulders as you applied gentle pressure to the wound; cleaning the dried blood. "I'm sorry..." You whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Do you have any other injuries?"
Billy opened his eyes, a slight frown forming on his face as you finished - the bandaid you had chosen for the side of his temple was fruit-themed. "No," He murmured, "Just my face." He said softly.
You didn't respond for a moment, staring at him, and Billy was worried that you could see right through him. You had such an ability, seeing right through him when no one else could. "Shirt off." You pursed your lips again, and Billy could only let out a chuckle, narrowing his eyes at you devilishly.
"Buy me dinner first, sweetheart." 
"Billy." You lightly scolded with a serious expression on your face. "Come on, please?"
With a huff, he stared at you, his smile dropping back into a - rather indifferent - frown. He continued to stare, hoping that you would drop it but you didn't budge. Letting out a deep sigh through his nose, he began to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Mentally, he felt relieved, it was too hot in your room. 
You felt your cheeks warm as your eyes drifted to his exposed upper half - even though you had seen him topless many times before, the butterflies still fluttered in your chest, despite the current situation - he then tossed his shirt to the corner of your bed. Your gaze then dropped, noticing the bruises that littered his side, crawling around to his lower back; they were purple and dark red. Your breath hitched, feeling your eyes burn as you reached out, but your hand shook before stopping short; overwhelming concern settling inside your stomach. 
"I'm fine," He spoke nonchalantly - though, seemingly frustrated with either himself or something - as if what you saw wasn't all that important, "They look worse than they are."
You chose not to say anything - fearing that if you did, that you would cry - grabbing the bruise paste from the first-aid case. You squeezed some of it onto your fingers, before gently rubbing it across his side, making sure to cover the bruises as much as you could. And for Billy, he was just watching you, noticing your lips were pulled into a thin line, and your brows were furrowed together, clearly concerned about him, as he sat silently on your bed. Billy felt his body become warm, and he doubted that it was from the unbearable summer heat. His heart pounded against his chest, threatening to break through his ribcage, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by everything - by how much you actually cared about him. For the most part, he was used to people not caring for him. But you cared. Even now, here with him, you were helping him, worrying about him. He'd never been treated this well since... California... When his mom was still around. 
Billy knew there was just something about you the moment he met you. Something about your eyes, that sparkle when you were happy, your hair that was always so soft, and your laugh - Billy couldn’t get it out of his head; it was difficult to explain, even to himself.
He was the new King of Hawkins High. Every girl he walked by swooned and giggled if he looked their way. Their attention made him feel powerful. He was known for being a womanizer and delinquent, the one that women seemed to flock to, who always got into fights, and picked on others. Yet, here he was, with you. 
You had just been another girl he wanted to use until he got bored of you; like he did with most - if not all - of the girls in Hawkins High already. He tried in the beginning to woo and persuade you into going on at least one date with him. But you declined each and every time. You just smiled up at him, politely rejecting every single one of his invitations. It never seemed to irritate you when he would come back and ask you again and again.
At some point, Billy stopped asking you, and you thought that that would mean that he would then just leave you alone. But, he didn't. Instead of asking you out, he'd just sort of flirt, and ask how your day was going whilst leaning against the locker beside yours. He didn't realize how often you'd cross his mind, but sometimes he would find himself staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, thinking about you. Wondering what you were doing, wondering when he'd see you at school again. There was an urge inside of him that he didn't understand, that he couldn't resist. It made him feel weak, pathetic, vulnerable, and completely in love with you. He wanted to hate it. He wanted to hate you, but he couldn't. 
The relationship between the both of you was odd at first, but grew quite beautiful. Billy found himself enjoying your conversations... He'd rather sit and listen to you rant and ramble about anything and everything than spend five minutes with anyone else. Your presence alone was calming, giving him a feeling of peace. There was this unspoken understanding between the two of you, something that neither of you had ever felt with anyone else before. 
He wasn't used to the feelings that he had for you. These feelings grew whenever he saw you or even thought of you. This intense sense of desire to protect, hold, and cherish you. It scared the hell out of him. It scared him because he didn't know how to handle it.
"Alright," You muttered, wiping your hands off with a tissue before crumpling it and tossing it in your small plastic trash can in the corner of your room. "Those should heal in no time." You finished, making Billy grin.
“Great-”
You snapped your eyes up at him, giving him a short look, “With time and rest.” You emphasized before collecting the first-aid supplies and packing them back away in the first-aid kit. When you turned your attention back to him, noticing the far-off look in his eyes as he looked down at you. That look in his eyes made your mouth suddenly feel dry. It was a look that you rarely saw on Billy Hargrove’s face - only when he was really deep in his thoughts. His brow furrowed slightly, his eyes holding an emotion that you couldn’t quite make sense of. It made your already warm face feel like it was burning from the intensity. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow, "What are you thinking about?" You asked softly, slowly watching as Billy's eyes rapidly blinked, gathering his thoughts, his lips twisted into a grin.
"I'm just thinking about kissing you," He didn't hesitate to answer, making you scoff out a small laugh, shaking your head at how adorably ridiculous he was being. 
"Well, I'm thinking you just might get a kiss," You played along, mimicking his grin, leaning towards him slightly, "But, you have to promise that you will rest for a couple of days."
Billy chuckled, looking up at your ceiling before looking back down at you, "Whatever you say, doc," He answered, amused, before leaning in, but you stopped him, pressing your pointer finger on his awaiting lips.
You gave him a look, "Promise, B," You raised your other hand, lifting your pinky finger out for him.
Billy narrowed his eyes at you, impatient, but willing to play along. He brought his hand up to yours, but the second you wrapped your pinky around his, Billy leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours; knocking you onto your back, and landing back onto your plush mattress.
You gasped, giggling against his lips, your eyes fluttering closed as he moved over you; his forearms pressed down on the mattress beside your head, your own arms looping around his neck. The kiss was languid, his mouth moving against yours as your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. He sighed against your lips, feeling the warmth seep through his chest once more. He didn't even realize how much he had missed you. Even though it had been less than two days since he last saw you. He missed your voice, your face, your taste; everything. He didn't want to stop kissing you, but at some point, he was going to have to come back up for air.
Slipping his lips from yours, Billy breathily sighed, digging his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, before laying down completely on you. "I missed you," He mumbled into your skin, smiling when you laughed lightly under him.
"I've missed you too," You replied softly, running your fingers through his curly blonde hair, "But, you got to get off of me, honey. It's way too hot for you to koala me right now."
"Don't wanna," He muttered stubbornly, pressing kisses where his lips were placed on your shoulder. "Can't make me."
You huffed, unable to stop your smile from growing, your hands wrapped around his upper back; your nails lightly scratching against his warm, bare skin. "Fine..." You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, "... But you owe me big time, Hargrove."
"Hmm... Sounds good to me," He hummed mischievously - you could feel him smirking, "I'm staying the night." 
"Really? That's a surprise," You remarked teasingly, "I wouldn't have guessed that."
Billy gently bit your shoulder in retaliation, causing you to let out a little shriek, muffling your own laughter as you slapped your hand over your mouth; not wanting to wake your sleeping mother three doors over. "I'm trapping you here now forever," He grumbled, though it was hardly a threat.
"Oh, poor me," You answered sarcastically, "Trapped under my ridiculously handsome boyfriend. Heat stroke. What a terrible way to go." You sighed out, closing your eyes; a smile on your face, "Tragic, really." You almost forgot about how uncomfortably hot you were, “Honestly, not the worst way to die…” You muttered, your eyelids fluttering as your fingers started to move absentmindedly against his back and shoulders, rubbing circles, and tracing shapes. Billy sighed contently, his muscles relaxing beneath your fingertips. Your smile softened as you felt his eyelashes flutter against your skin, "Rest, Billy," You told him quietly, "I'll be here when you wake up."
"You better be," He whispered, letting out a deep sigh before he closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.
Glancing over at your book beside your head, you let out a small yawn, before turning your head to rest your cheek on Billy’s forehead, shutting your own eyes. You'd have time to read it later.
---
Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist
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cavillsteve · 12 days
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Billy & Max - Gone but not forgotten
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sserpente · 9 months
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Happy Ending
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Synopsis: Out of all people you could have been assigned to for your lifeguard training, it had to be Billy Hargrove. You hate the guts out of his cocky and flirty demeanour and during your lessons, Billy has no mercy and it shows—muscle cramps torment your entire body after another intense training session, and (un)fortunately, Billy takes notice and offers to give you a massage. What could possibly go wrong?
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A/N: Request from anon. You asked, I delivered! But hear me out… what if he gave RC a seductive massage beforehand? ;-)
Words: 2654 Warnings: pure, shameless, and filthy smut
“Ugh…” You groaned, rolling your shoulders. Your lifeguard training was killing you. You’d be as stiff as a piece of log by the time you’d made it through the final exam. That’s how you’d end up saving drowning folk. They’d just use you like a piece of wood.
But you were determined to push through, if anything to prove a point. Billy Hargrove aka the pain of your existence, was pushing you to your fucking limits. Out of all people you could have been assigned to… well, technically, it had been a fifty-fifty chance. But boy, would you have preferred Heather over him.
Billy was a cliché on two legs. A cocky boy from California with abs, a womanizer, and a classic jock—not to mention he preferred to resolve disputes with his fists. You knew what he stood for and what his intentions were with the women he wooed and you hated yourself for being insanely attracted to him. Nothing good would come out of giving in to his recurring flirting attempts. He knew exactly what he was doing—knew about the effect he had on women and he was bathing in it. His ego was too big for his head, that was for sure; and the fact that during your lifeguard lessons, Billy repeatedly had his hands all over your half-naked body didn’t exactly make things easier for you.
You groaned once more, attempting to stretch a little. You had absolutely no idea how you had survived the past hour.
“You okay?” Billy came walking into the changing rooms, still wearing nothing more than his red swimming trunks. He was chewing on gum, a sly smirk playing on his lips when he noticed your struggles. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
“Yeah… just tense. Muscles cramps.”
“I wasn’t going too… hard on you, was I?” He asked, playfulness playing in his voice. Damn him.
“No… I’m just not used to excessive workouts every day.” You realised your mistake, or rather, your poor word choice, the moment he started grinning.
“Oh, you’re not?”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, stop it already. I hate you, remember?”
“I can help you, you know,” he said, unimpressed by my complaint and clearly still amused.
Raising your eyebrows, you glared him down suspiciously. “Oh yeah?”
Billy nodded. “I know a few… massage techniques.”
Your eyes widened and you took, no, jumped a step back.
“Absolutely not!” Billy’s hands slowly gliding all over your body, kneading away the knots? That… that sounded horrifying, it sounded… really hot. Which was why you could, under no circumstances, agree to it.
“Come on… Are you scared it could be… good?” He leaned in close and you cursed internally. Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I’m afraid of, for Fuck’s sake.
“No. I just… I don’t need you of all people to massage me, Billy. If I need to release some tension, I’ll go to a professional.” You winced, again slapping yourself mentally for your poor word choice. Billy chuckled.
“Follow me.”
You didn’t know why but you did. Billy led you to the lifeguard office in the back of the building. There wasn’t much in here—just some equipment, first aid kits, a surprisingly neat desk, and a low treatment table for injured pool guests.
“Lie down, stomach down.” He pointed at the treatment table. You hesitated. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. So why the fuck did you move toward it and did as you were told?
“Is it just your shoulders and your back?” Billy went to grab something from the sink area—you could only assume it was some sort of massage oil. You doubted this was part of the equipment here, he must have brought it himself at some point.
“Yeah…” you croaked out.
You tensed, staring at the wall and avoiding his gaze at any cost when Billy slid the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders and then proceeded to pour some massage oil into his hands. He rubbed them together, the soothing sound sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine, and then… you felt his hands on you.
Billy’s fingers were surprisingly soft and yet, they went to town firmly. A moan escaped your lips when he located the knots and began to massage them away.
“Told you I’m good,” he purred. You groaned by way of a response. Because the fucker was right. It felt amazing. He felt amazing. Billy knew exactly what he was doing—you didn’t even protest when, after a while, he pulled your swimsuit down further to reveal the entirety of your back. Up and down his hands went, exploring your bare skin and working away all of the tension his training had caused in the first place.
You could get used to this. You could fall asleep to this. Fall asleep and dream of Billy’s hands further down… no, stop! That’s exactly what he wants to achieve!
You were about to protest and opened your mouth when he travelled south with a start, testing the tense flesh on the back of your thighs. He tsked at you when his thumbs rolled over the knots and tense spots.
“I don’t think you were completely honest with me, doll.”
“I’m fine…”
“Flip over,” he suddenly said.
You ripped your eyes open, only realising now that you had closed them. You were naked from the waist up. If you turned around now, you’d give him a full front-row view of your tits. He wished, huh?
“I’m good, Billy.”
“Flip. Over,” he repeated. His voice was darker now, almost a little intimidating and… taunting in the most delicious and fuck, sexual way.
Grunting, you pulled your swimsuit back up just enough for it to cover your breasts and rolled on your back, meeting his blue eyes and staring daggers at him. He only chuckled.
“You’re really cute when you’re pretending to be angry.”
“I’m not pretending. I am angry.” Angry at how good it felt. Angry at how good he made you feel.
Billy smirked and poured some more oil into his palms. Next thing you knew, he was working your thighs so thoroughly that you tensed up in order not to wriggle around.
“Relax, babe…” Ha, easy for him to say. You had no doubt that he was enjoying this, perhaps even more than you were. Especially when his thumbs moved toward dangerous territory. Again and again, he grazed your inner thighs just a little too close to where you kept claiming he didn’t have an effect on you. A circumstance that was getting harder and harder to deny because fuck, you were growing wet. You could already feel the heat pooling between your legs, your breathing quickening.
And before you even knew it, your legs fell open further, inviting him in. It was over there and then. Fuck it. Fuck him, literally. You could only hope he had locked the door behind him. He won. He fucking won.
Your lips parted as Billy’s hands took the invitation. You bucked your hips the moment his thumb brushed directly over your still clothed clit, your nails digging into the treatment table, though this time, he didn’t tell you to relax. Instead, he did it again. And again. And again.
For a brief moment, he paused. And then, when you didn’t protest, he slowly pushed the thin stripe of fabric out of the way to reveal your glistening pussy to his greedy eyes. You were panting at this point, lost in the pleasure he was promising you without even speaking a word.
His fingers were slippery with the massage oil, his left thumb slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped when you felt him push two fingers inside of you. He fucked you languidly, savouring every single second and you bucked your hips and arched your back, meeting his thrusts, silently begging for more.
You almost flinched upon hearing his seductive voice again. “I think that swimsuit needs to go, doll. It’s in the way… and we wouldn’t want to get massage oil all over it, now would we?”
Biting your lower lip, you hummed in agreement. All of a sudden, you did not mind him seeing you topless anymore at all. Quite on the contrary—it turned you on even more knowing that you’d be lying before him completely exposed, all his for the taking.
Billy did all the work for you. He removed his fingers from your pussy and chuckled when you whined at the loss. He then hooked his fingers into the hem of your swimsuit, pulling it all the way down—at an antagonisingly slow speed—to your ankles. You kicked them off, unable to hide your trembling. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this aroused, except, perhaps, this one time you’d been unable to fall asleep and instead decided to masturbate to the thought of Billy fucking you. Shit, you were a goner. A complete and utter goner.
“Jesus, I knew you’d look even hotter without the swimsuit.”
You moaned in response, still unable to meet his gaze. You kept your eyes shut, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when his left hand cupped one of your breasts as if they’d been made for him. His other hand returned to your slick cunt. Sweet, wet noises echoed through the otherwise empty room as he fingerfucked you all the while the hand on your breast kept teasing your hardening nipple. By the time he moved on to the other breast, you were breathing heavily, a warm knot tightening in your stomach—fast.
And yet again, you had to admit… Billy knew exactly what he was doing, working you toward what already felt like the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. His voice alone almost tipped you over the edge.
“Do you wanna come, babe?” he rasped.
“Please…” You barely recognised your own voice at this point. Begging Billy Hargrove for an orgasm… you’d most definitely lost your marbles.
But before you could slap yourself for your horny stupidity, you fell. Billy made you see stars, his fingers working your cunt like an instrument and hitting all the right keys. You clenched around his fingers, drenching them in your juices as your toes curled and you came hard.
He made sure help you ride it out before he released you, wet hands gliding all over your bare body. He massaged your breasts for a little while until you came back to your senses, your eyes still closed in pure and utter bliss. You didn’t protest when he tilted your head and stroked your neck.
For just a brief moment, he stopped touching you. Then, you felt something hard pressing against your parted lips. You didn’t care what you were, didn’t care that he was a player and would move on to the next girl after this. You didn’t even care that you were supposed to hate him. You wanted Billy and you wanted him now. His cock in your mouth seemed like a good place to start.
Moaning with relish, you closed your lips around his tip and sucked gently, testing the waters. You’d given a couple of blowjobs before but with him, you felt the odd need to impress with your skills. The results were almost immediate. Billy sucked in air audibly when you took him deeper, tongue darting forward to tease his slit. He pushed forward slightly—surprisingly patient, he let you take him inch by inch at your own pace until you rolled over to taste him properly.
You were done for the very moment you tasted a salty drop of precum on your tongue. Accompanied by another moan, you started bopping your head up and down, your left hand busying itself with his tight balls. You released him with a smacking noise, right hand covering what you could not take, and suckled on his tip like a popsicle before licking over the entire underside of his shaft.
“Fuck…” Billy threw his head back just when you opened your eyes. Pleased with his reaction, you repeated the motion and then took him in your mouth again, faster this time. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, thrusting forward now and slowly taking control. You let him. You let him fuck your mouth until your gag reflex hit and your eyes were watering and yet, when he pulled out of your mouth, leaving your lips swollen and tingling, you made a disappointed noise.
“Where?” was all he said. You bit your lower lip and nodded toward the desk. He didn’t need to elaborate on his question. You knew exactly what he meant and quite frankly, you were too far gone to back out now.
“Condom?” you breathed out as you slid off the treatment table and approached the desk naked, your limbs still trembling a little from your intense orgasm earlier.
“Yeah…” You figured he went to grab one from his bag stored away in the corner, always prepared for a quick fuck with a girl he’d wrapped around his finger for sport. As much as you attempted to force yourself to, you couldn’t complain about it. Not right now. Not when you were desperate for him to finally fuck you and get that remaining tension—the tension between the two of you—out of the way.
Billy didn’t disappoint. His blue eyes were dark with lust when he returned to you without his trunks and quite an impressive erection still glistening from your saliva under the thin latex of the condom. He flipped you around so your hips hit the edge of the desk and bent you forward, fingertips ghosting over your spine.
You shivered, your lips parting to beg him to put it in already when he knocked all air from your body. Billy sank himself into you with but one eager thrust, a groan escaping his lips in the process. He grabbed your hips tightly, holding you in place for him as he began to fuck you, withdrawing almost entirely only to plunge back in so forcefully your breathing became uneven.
Your hands reached for the opposite edge of the desk to hold on to something, your legs almost dangling in the air. On your tiptoes, you kept your arse lifted to meet his hungry strokes. Hunting his own pleasure now, you could all but let your eyes roll the back of your head. He was fucking you so good… Billy hit all the right spots inside you and his stamina… fuck, all of the other guys you had been with would have creamed their pants long before you could have brought your lips anywhere near their dick.
It felt good… it felt so good… oh god.
“You gonna come for me again, babe?”
You nodded and hummed in response, too dazed for a coherent answer, feeling yourself tightening around his hard cock right before you exploded a second time. Pleasure coursed through your body, filling you from head to toe.
Billy grunted. He fucked you through your climax relentlessly, stilled only moments later when his own release overwhelmed him and he emptied himself into the condom. Shit, for a second you wished you’d have asked him to fuck you raw just so you could feel him coating your walls with his seed. You whined when he withdrew. But there was always a next time. You’d make sure of it.
You were certain now that you didn’t actually hate Billy Hargrove. You had hated how much you had wanted him.
“I think I’ll need a… ‘massage’ after every training session from now on. Your lessons are so exhausting,” you said, panting.
Billy helped you turn around and stand up straight, naked bodies pressed against each other. He grinned, his lips ghosting over yours. “You know what, I think so too, doll.”
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A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥
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venusjaynie · 2 months
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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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unwanted-animal · 11 months
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Billy Hargrove Moments/Expressions That Get Me Pregnant
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