#Billy Hargrove angst

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

#billy hargrove #harrington!reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #soft!billy hargrove #ooc #one shot #stranger things one shot #request #fanfiction #billy stranger things #billy hargrove angst #angst #fluff

[writethrough]

I Know Better

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Warnings: Language, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1396

A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.

I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  

This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.

And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.

I hope you enjoy!

Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me

"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 

Billy Hargrove never scared you. 

Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 

You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 

You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 

Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 

He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 

You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 

It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 

You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 

You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 

Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 

In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 

You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 

“Wanna say that again?” 

Your brows pulled in confusion. 

What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 

It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 

Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 

He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 

Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 

Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 

I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 

No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 

Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 

The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 

At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 

You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 

“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 

“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 

“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 

Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 

It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 

He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 

“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 

You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 

This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 

But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 

“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 

There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 

“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 

“You’ll have mine.” 

The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 

You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 

— 

That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 

He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 

“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 

“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 

He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 

“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 

You took a shot in the dark. 

“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 

His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 

So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 

But why? 

And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 

You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 

“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 

“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 

At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 

“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 

“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 

Of course, that was what he took away. 

“Billy,” you warned playfully. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 

You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 

“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 

“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 

Names.  

You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 

You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 

He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 

“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 

He leaned his elbows on the table. 

“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 

Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove x female reader #Billy Hargrove x fem!reader #Billy Hargrove x you #Billy Hargrove one shot #Billy Hargrove oneshot #Billy Hargrove fanfic #Billy Hargrove fanfiction #Billy Hargrove imagine #Billy Hargrove imagines

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request an Billy x reader x Eddie fic where either the three of them fight and then make up or Billy made Reader cry and Eddie got mad at him, and he then fixes it? I would love to see more of Mungrove x reader!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it!! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻Mungrove is getting very fun

2 boyfriends but 1 girlfriend

If there was anything that was a promise when dating Billy Hargrove, it was jealousy. Billy was popular with everyone. The boys idolized him, and the girls crawled at his feet. Billy was a loyal partner, Eddie and Y/N knew that. But Billy never was shy from the attention on him. He loved it. He loved being chased and all the girls swooning at his feet.

It didn't really bother Eddie. Eddie was never bothered by much, he shrugged everything off and moved on. He and Billy barely ever fought about it. But Y/N? She couldn't just shrug it off. It bothered her all the way into her skin and bones. Billy never saw the issue as it wasn't like he cheated. But to Y/N, being involved in flirting felt like cheating.

Saturday night meant date night. It turned out that having to compare three schedules was difficult. Billy always had basketball practice after school, Eddie had his campaign and band practice, and then Fridays were basketball games and singing gigs. But they all vowed that Saturdays would be their day.

It was late May and the weather was getting hot. Billy wanted to take a road trip off to the beach, so they did. The drive didn't feel that long once they pulled into the parking lot.

"We'll go grab a spot, and you unpack the car," Eddie said as he grabbed Y/N's hand. They ran through the hot sand and threw down their towels.

Y/N was basking in the sun as Eddie took dives in the water. She laughed behind her sunglasses as Eddie tried to do tricks for a rating. Usually, Billy would be with Eddie, both boys trying to one-up each other.

"I'M GONNA CHECK ON BILLY, DON'T DROWN," Y/N yelled as she stood up. Eddie gave her a thumbs-up before diving into the water once again. That boy loved to be in the water.

Y/N put on her sandals and began to walk towards the parking lot. She wasn't sure what took Billy so long, but she had a good feeling of why once she caught Billy with his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and his pearly whites on display.

Y/N walked up slowly, hearing Karen Wheeler flirting with her boyfriend. Billy was leaning close to her, making her laugh.

"Um, babe? You need any help with the stuff?" Y/N asked, she didn't want to sound rude or bitchy. She was more nervous and uncomfortable with the tight feeling in her stomach.

"Got it all handled, sweetie," Billy said, popping his gum. He didn't bother to look behind him at her, his eyes on Karen only.

"Eddie is starting his tricks and waiting for his competition." Y/N hinted she hoped he'd care enough to look at her this time.

"I'll be there in a minute," Billy said, his tone a little angry. Y/N gulped, she did not want to make him mad but she wanted time with her boyfriend.

"Will you be done soon? We've been here for thirty minutes and you know Saturday is o-" But Billy cut her off. He whipped around and his icy blue eyes glared at her.

"I said in a minute. I'm in the middle of a conversation, we have the whole godamn day for you to be on my ass." He snapped, and Y/N nodded. She bit her lip as she felt it tremble. Billy turned back to Karen and Y/N began to walk away. She sniffled as she tried to keep her tears back.

"Clingy one I see," Karen mocked, Billy let out a big laugh.

"You've got no idea."

~

Eddie was back on his towel when Y/N made it back, without Billy.

"Hey sweets, where's Billy? Does he need my help?" Eddie asked, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. He squinted as he looked over at Y/N.

"No, he's fine," Y/N said, her voice shaky as she sat on her towel.

Eddie frowned hearing her voice, he was quick to move his towel right next to her. His wet body against hers as he threw his arm over her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asked, he saw his reflection in her sunglasses as she turned to look at him.

"He's too busy to join us because of Karen Wheeler." Y/N sighed, but Eddie knew there was more.

"I'm sorry he's being a dick," Eddie said, his lips pressed against her shoulder.

"Do you think I'm...clingy?" Y/N asked, she pushed her sunglasses into her hair as she looked into Eddie's eyes. His frown deepened as he saw her watery eyes.

"Not at all! Why do you ask?"

"Karen made a comment about it, and Billy laughed and agreed. It hurts when he flirts with every girl that breathes. It makes me insecure. Why am I not pretty enough to keep him from looking at other girls? He never looks at other guys." Y/N ranted, salty tears ran down her cheek.

"Oh, darling. I can't make an excuse for his dumb actions. But I promise you, you are enough. You are pretty enough, smart enough, funny enough, and everything more." Eddie said softly, he wiped away her tears.

"I'm going to swim for a bit." Y/N said, she gave Eddie a soft kiss then left to head into the water.

Eddie flicked down his sunglasses and went right after Billy.

Just like Y/N said, Billy was talking to Karen without a care in the world. Eddie walked up to the car and grabbed a water bottle out of the cooler.

He cut in between Karen and Billy. His back to Billy as he glared at Karen through his sunglasses. He handed her the water with a smirk. "Since you are so thirsty, here's water. Now beat it."

Billy chuckled from behind Eddie as Karen walked away.

"My oh my, someone is hot when they are jealous." Billy teased. Eddie turned around and flicked Billy in the forehead.

"I'm not jealous. I'm pissed off at your attitude towards Y/N." Eddie argued.

"I didn't have an attitude. I asked her to give me a minute." Billy defended. He finally grabbed the stuff from the car and began walking towards the beach.

"I don't give a shit if you asked. You ditched us on our date so you could talk with gross Mrs. Wheeler. You know I don't care about flirting because I know who's dick you'll be sucking on. But it's different with Y/N. She gets insecure and you make her upset." Eddie explained, helping his boyfriend carry everything down into the sand.

"Why is her being insecure my fault? We all knew I was popular with the ladies." Billy scoffed.

Eddie waited until Billy dropped everything on the sand before he punched his arm.

"What the hell!" Billy growled as he rubbed the sore spot.

"It's your fault because she doesn't think she's pretty enough to keep your eyes on just her. News flash Hargrove, if you want to soak in all the attention from the "ladies" then don't be in a relationship." Eddie said, another punch at Billy's other arm.

"DAMMIT!" Billy yelled as he felt another bruise forming.

"That's for making her cry. If you don't see what I see in her, then maybe she isn't meant to be yours, just mine." Eddie glared.

"What? You are gonna take her from me?" Billy questioned. He had to admit, the thought made his stomach hurt.

"No, but I'm going to stop trying to make you a good guy."

~

Billy sighed as he walked into the water. His eyes take in the gorgeous girlfriend of his. Her warm skin and the bright color of her bikini. Water dropped down her hair and created droplets that ran down her back.

She didn't turn around and he kept walking closer. Once he reached her he wrapped his arms around her waist.

His mouth was against her ear, as his chin rested on her shoulder. Her skin was warm from the sun.

"I talked to Eddie. And I'm really sorry I upset you." Billy said softly, he squeezed her body as the waves brushed against his legs.

"It's whatever, Billy. I'll get over it like I always do." Y/N sighed. She groaned when Billy turned her around, now face to face as she held back her tears.

"No, I mean it this time. I'm done with the games and the flirting. Eddie and I don't see it as a big deal, but it means something to you. It hurts you and makes you question yourself. Which I never want you to do. I've been a dick and not appreciating you the way I should be. I'm incredibly lucky to have you as a girlfriend. " Billy kissed her neck, and she tried not to melt.

"My sexy and gorgeous girlfriend," more kisses, "who puts up with me when she shouldn't have to," more kisses, "loves me when I don't deserve it," more kisses, "and truly the only woman I'll ever love." The final kiss landed on her lips and she happily kissed back. Her arms were thrown over his shoulders as his tongue moved inside her mouth.

"Can you forgive me?" Billy whispered against her lips. His blue eyes were nervous and guilty.

"Yes but I swear you flirt with one more girl and I'm going to have Eddie truly kick your ass."

"He wishes, baby." Billy chuckled before kissing her again. His hands landed on her ass as his tongue entered her mouth once again.

~

"Great. Now I got a hard on." Eddie groaned as he used Billy's towel to cover his swim shorts.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x female reader #billy Hargrove x eddie munson x female reader #mungrove x female reader #ashwhowrites

[bowdownperv]

Billy can’t fall asleep, asks to roughly throat fuck you. Degrades you whilst he’s a moaning mess but also calls you his good girl🤩 just when you go back to bed thinking it’s over, he creeps up from behind you and fucks the shit out of you moaning into your ear- after all you should get a reward back ☺️

Fuck Face [B.H]

Warnings: 18+, sexual content

It had to have been around 4am. His large hand nudging you in the back while he grunted in your ear.

“Wake up,” he said in his deep, sleepy voice.

You groaned. Back facing him. His large body encapsulating you.

“Go to bed Billy.”

“Can’t. Too horny,” he rubbed his cock against your panties, showing off how hard he was.

Instantly, you were turned on from the feeling of his big dick as he thrusted it against your clothed ass. Wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you flushed against him. Forcing you to be his sex toy.

“C’mon princess, just let me fuck that pretty mouth real quick. Then you can go back to bed.” His breath causing goosebumps on the back of your neck.

With a loud sigh, you pushed yourself out of bed and and knelt down on the floor. Billy giddily swung himself to the sit at the edge of the bed. His feet touching the floor. His bulge staring you right in the face. His red boxers perfectly outlining every vein and the round, mushroom head of his girthy cock. So desperately trying to free itself.

With both hands, you grabbed each side of his underwear and hiked it down his muscular legs. Loving the plop his cock always makes when it’s let loose. Bobbing up and down inches away from your needy lips. The head already glazed with drops of precum. His balls looked extra big tonight resting on the bed between his big thighs. No wonder he was so horny. You could tell they were dense and full of cum. They needed to be drained badly and that’s exactly what your throat was for.

He looked down at you. His big cock leaving a shadow across his face.

“You ready sweetheart?”

You looked up at him with the innocent eyes he loved and nodded.

With that, he wrapped his calloused hands around your head and slowly pushed you down on his wet cock. Spit was already trailing down your lower lip as his dick filled your throat. Your nose brushed against his pubes and his balls nuzzled against your chin. He kept you like that for a while. His cock completely tucked in your sweet mouth as you choked with wide eyes glancing up at him.

“Oh fuck,” he kept saying as he tilted his head back. His sweaty hair sticking to his face.

You started whining. His cock making it hard for you to breathe and making you gag. The more you moaned the meaner he got. First a light slap followed by him raising his index finger to your face.

“Keep being a brat and I’ll make you choke on this dick.”

At this point, your mouth was making disgusting noises and more saliva was pouring out your mouth and collecting onto his now sticky balls. His balls were hanging low, heavy and dripping with your saliva.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. You tried talking but everything was muffled from the giant cock lodged in your throat. You attempted shouting his name. He chuckled at how pathetic you sounded. Tears started rolling down your Bambi eyes.

“Too much cock for my little slut?” he cocked his eyebrow in a douchebag way.

You nodded frantically.

Billy stood up, his whole body now towering over you. You secretly loved how easy it would be for him to dominate you. With one hand holding your hair back, he slowly thrusted his hips into your face. Your face puckered up as his cock fucked your little mouth. His other hand went to plug your nose. Punishment for being so whiny.

Billy’s hairy legs were spread with you in between and his wet balls swinging back and forth like a pendulum. His ass flexed hard as he moved faster pounding into you. You were making inaudible noises. Billy’s deep voice also dominated you as his low moans filled up the room. With his head tilted back, you could see his Adam’s apple move up and down each time he groaned loudly. He was panting like a dog. Sweat dripping down his face as he looked down at you with his open mouth and a devilish grin in his eyes.

“You’re my little cum slut, baby?”

You nodded.

“Need you to say it baby. Say ‘I’m daddy’s littles little cum slut.’”

You tried your best to say it but it was impossible with his dick plunging in and out of your throat so fast. More drool just poured down your mouth following your inaudible words.

“Cant hear you baby say it again.”

He could feel the vibrations as you whined on his cock. You were so utterly turned on from the sight of his sweaty body working so hard to get off. He was wet, big, and horny.

“Fuck,” you mumbled pathetically. “I’m daddy’s little cum slut.”

Billy moaned so loud it shook the room.

“Fuck baby, you’re such a good girl. Gonna make daddy cum and swallow all it?”

You nodded eagerly. His balls felt heavy smacking you in the chin and you could feel how full they were of his delicious cum. You always loved his cum. Whether it was in your mouth or pussy, it was always so warm and he had so much of it to give you. He had a huge load coming and you were ready to swallow every drop of his nut.

Billy’s thrusts slowed down but got stronger and more intense. You knew him long enough to know by the look on his face that he was about to cum.

“Holy fuck baby,” he sounded desperate. His moans were more intense and his legs were wobbling.

Billy put both hands on your ears and forced you onto him balls deep and held it. Forcing you to take his cum. You watched his balls twitch as his creamy nut shot in spurts down your throat into your tummy. More and more strings of his cum kept coming. You counted 12 loads. Each one thick and hot. You took a hard swallow and swirled your tongue across his wet mushroom head, making sure you got every drop. He tasted salty and delicious.

Billy finally took his softening cock out of your mouth and fell backwards onto the bed. His arms sprawled and sweaty and his hairy armpits out. You took a moment to catch your breath and wipe your mouth. Your throat sore from the massive cock it was just annihilated by. Billy pat the spit on the bed next to him signaling you to come up.

His arms quickly wrapped around you making you feel safe and protected in his warm, bigger body. He kissed the top of your head and praised you.

“Suck a good girl,” he’d say with a kiss and a pinch to the cheek.

You started drifting off in his arms as he spooned you. Feeling full and satisfied from all his warm cum in your belly. But Billy still had more in him. His curious hands roamed your tits and then moved down your ass. You giggled thinking he was messing around, but he was serious. He pulled down your wet panties and got on top of your back. Your face now pushed into the mattress. He spread both your legs to the side and tapped his dick, now hard again, over your pussy. Without anymore warning, he shoved it in.

You moaned uncontrollably in ecstasy. His head moved to the back of your neck and you felt his hot breath against you as he moaned while fucking your tight pussy. One hand moving up to choke you from behind. Billy’s body crushed you as he fucked you into the mattress. The bed squeaking like it’s about to break. You felt his hot words in your ears.

“Such a tight pussy baby girl.”

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you until you make this little thing cum, okay?”

You were gasping. Eyes rolling to the back of your head from how great his cock felt filling you up. You were squeezing so tight against his girth. The elasticity in your pussy walls wearing down.

Billy stood both his hands on your back and pounded you aggressively. Staring at your pussy like a hawk, waiting to watch it squirt. The positions were getting dirtier and dirtier. He pulled your ass up and fucked you doggy with his hands tightly squeezing your ass cheeks. Delivery forceful slaps that made your ass burn red. He would lift one of his legs up so he could get more cock inside of you. Moaning and chanting your name each time his cock disappeared in your wet cunt.

The bedsheets were now drenched in your juices. Cum and sweat. Billy’s moaning and the sound of his balls hitting your ass were mouthwatering. You felt your orgasm coming as a million butterflies were released in your stomach.

“Billy, it’s coming,” you shrieked desperately.

Billy pushed your face into the mattress and laid his body on top of you. Keeping the same rhythm as his ass cheeks thrusted his cock into your sweet spot. He whispered beautiful, sinful words into your ear.

“Cum for me baby, cum right now,” he begged.

“Squirt all over my cock Princess.”

As your boyfriend continued to fuck you mercilessly, you finally surrendered and let yourself cum. He continued to fuck you as you squirted all over him and the bedsheets. His eyes were glowing in amazement. Your squirting triggering his orgasm. He moaned like an animal. His thrusts slowed down as he filled your cunt up giving you a cream pie. Cum dripped out your pussy and down your thighs. He scooped a bit up with his fingers like honey and brought it to your lips to lick clean. You licked the salty cream off and sucked his two fingers. Your eyes watery from the extreme dicking he unexpectedly gave you. He kissed your lips passionately. Still wet from his cock inside it. You dazed away in his arms and knew you probably wouldn’t have your voice tomorrow.

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove smut #smut #billy hargrove angst #stranger things

[nameless-ken]

Fic Recs Masterlist - Billy Hargrove

I've put together a list of Billy fics/imagines so they're easy to find! I'm so obsessed with all of these :)

Please let me know if I've tagged your story and want it removed.

Thank you to all the writers for providing such amazing words <3

FIC RECS PART 2

Imagines

Piercings and Polaroids - @thephantomofthe-internet

Club Heaven - @billys-pretty-babe

Life Guard - @writethrough

loving you - @bookshelf-dust

billy vs. the grinch - @bookshelf-dust

you wanna talk about it? - @bookshelf-dust

kids show up, and i get no kisses - @bookshelf-dust

all because of a fucking skating rink - @bookshelf-dust

god, this place is such a shit hole - @bookshelf-dust

Your Part Of My Family - @chloe-skywalker

Halloween Party - @chloe-skywalker

Heather - @thelovelylolly

i know a place - @billysbabyy *smut

At Peace - @billys-pretty-babe

Gone - @billys-pretty-babe

Better Off As Friends - @billys-pretty-babe

Happy Birthday, Baby - @billys-pretty-babe

Not freaks - @ashwhowrites

When The World Seems So Cruel - @queers-gambit *smut

Just To Ourselves - @billyhargrove-s

and I didn't like the ending - @billysbabyy

What’s ok for me - @pastel-pillows

SUPERNOVA - @billlydear

GOT A LIGHT? - @billlydear

MEDIC - @billlydear

It's Always Been You - @thegreencanary

Love is Too Simple a Word - @fics-and-quotes-andthelike

A Place to Land - @writethrough

Found You - @writethrough

starved - @starrywriting

forget - @capricornuh

I Know Better - @writethrough

As it Should Be - @waiting4inspiration

Shining Through - @sweet-villain

All Mine - @duramater97

Billy Hargrove x Reader !Panic Attack!SA! - @kennarose1108

Healing Touch - @waiting4inspiration

A Treat - @sweet-villain

You and Me - @tastefulstars

Night's like These - @billyhargrove-s

Up and Out - @queers-gambit Part 2

Billy's Girl - @thewritingofamadwoman

The Only Destination - @writethrough

Lost Things, Found Beginnings - @writethrough

One Last Goodbye - @thelovelylolly

Bodyguard - @ashwhowrites

dream - @alloftheimagines

i need my girl - @alloftheimagines

Give - @steph-speaks

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #stranger things billy #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove masterlist

[sadhours]

Bully - Part 1 of 3

anonymous said: I'm imagining bully!billy who secretly has a crush on fem!reader but doesn't want it to be known cause she's a "nerd" and not very social.

I took this idea and ran with it. Loved this request so much I decided to turn it into a short series. hope you like it!!

tag list; @bbyhargrove

warnings: 18+ minors dni, bully!billy, innocent nerdy!reader, bullying, name calling, blood, virginity mentioned, also perv!billy I couldn’t help myself

Icy blue eyes watch your Ked’s kicking gravel, traveling up your leg warmers and stop at your thighs. He’s watching as your skirt lifts with your steps, hypnotized by the sight and how it’s making his chest and stomach tighten.

“You got the hots for that geek?” Tommy teases, nudging his shoulder.

Billy averts his eyes and flicks his lit cigarette at Tommy, who quickly inspects where the cherry made contact with his sweatshirt, brushing off the ash and glaring up at his friend.

“Think you’re projecting,” Billy chides, but it’s all a facade. He does have the hots for you, thinks about your legs when he can’t sleep at night.

Tommy snorts, “Yeah, totally. I wouldn’t be caught dead with a nerd like that.”

Billy likes the idea of corrupting an innocent, dorky girl like yourself but he won’t admit as much. His ‘friends’ wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. So when it seems like they’re catching on to his lingering eyes, he panics and starts overtly messing with you. It’s grade school bully stuff too.

His group follows his footsteps in the hall and when he sees you closing your locker with a mountain of textbooks and binders in your hands, he curves his path and knocks them out of your hand and to the floor. An all too easy, malicious smile curling his lips up as you make a small, offended noise. The gaggle of teens surrounding him erupt in vicious laughter. He’s not sure why but the way you look at him floors his attraction to you and Billy finds himself looking forward to any time he can terrorize you.

In class, he chews on his gum while he stares at the back of your head. He considers for a moment smooshing his gum between the wavy strands but then you might have to cut it and he doesn’t want that. He settles for pinching a pencil thin chunk of your hair and pulling. You head pulls back abruptly and you cry out in pain. All the heads in the class turn to the two of you, Billy looking pleased with himself and a scowl painted on your face as you also turn to look at him.

The teacher sighs, setting the text book down and tilting her head at you and Billy, “Why are you disrupting my class, y/n?”

“Billy pulled my hair!” you tattle, rubbing your fingers over the sore spot at your roots.

“No, I didn’t,” he replies with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, you did!” your voice is shaky as you raise it, afraid of getting in trouble but so sick and tired of his constant harassment.

“Did not,” he bites back like a child.

The teacher rubs her eyebrows with her hand, “I don’t have time for this. Both of you, principals office. He’ll deal with you.”

“But—“ you start to protest.

“Now,” she seethes, scribbling on two passes and extending them out with her hands.

Heaving a sigh, you stand from your desk and start gathering your things. Billy purposefully bumps into you as he walks up to the front, knocking everything from your hands.

When you exit the classroom, you expect him to already be down the hall but your luck would have him waiting against the hallway wall, grinning mischievously at you. Billy takes this moment to scan his eyes up and down your body, which unfortunately for him, goes unnoticed by you. You just think he’s an asshole, bullying you because he bullies all the nerds.

You say nothing, tightening your grip on your backpack straps as you hurry down the hall. Billy’s behind you, watching you way your skirt flutters against your thighs with every step you take. He decides he’s not done having fun, walking very closely behind you so he can step on the back of your shoe and declare, “Flat tire.”

Before you can comprehend his annoying joke, you’re stumbling forward and landing on your hands and knees.

“Ow,” you curse, thanking silently that you were able to catch yourself. You glare up at him, “What is your problem?!”

His smile doesn’t falter but he shrugs, “Oops.”

You stand up, no help from the blonde prick who’d caused the tumble in the first place, and dust yourself off.

“Why do you have to harass me so much?” you demand, tears welling up in your eyes. “You’re so mean to me and I’ve never even talked to you!”

Billy frowns, amused by your reaction and shamefully, a little turned on by the tears glistening in your eyes. Billy did get off on some light sadism during sex but this was something entirely new and something he wanted to keep provoking.

“It’s fun,” he says, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. He chews on his bottom lip, watching how his answer clears nothing up and you look at him with hurt painting every detail of your face. He imagines looking down at it in his bed, imagines what kind of noises you’d make and if he could get you to beg for him.

You wipe the tear that breaks free and turn back around, not wanting give Billy the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

In the principals office, he pleads innocence and even suggests your hair had gotten pinned against your back and the seat.

“I think she’s got a crush on me or something,” he invents, “She’s always making stuff up, saying I’m doing things when I’m not.”

Your jaw drops. You do not have a crush on Billy Hargrove. In fact, you hate him. He’s been making your life a living hell since he showed up.

“Mr. Anderson,” you plead, “I am not making this up.”

The principal is conflicted. You have a good reputation, you’re never in trouble and you make great marks. However, he’s seen how gaga all these teenage girls have gotten over the new guy from California and he seems to think you’re probably no different. He doesn’t know who to believe so he gives you both lunch detention for a week.

“That is so not fair,” you complain when he sends you on your way.

Billy looks at his watch, he’s got another few minutes alone with you until the bell rings. He decides to spend that time following you to your locker, leaning against it before you can get to it.

“Can you just leave me alone?!” you exhale, frustration bubbling through your body.

Billy loves seeing you so bothered, he wants to follow you all day and provoke it out of you.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. See you around, geek,” he pushes passed you, nudging your shoulder hard when he does.

-

The classroom is buzzing when you walk in, kids are bouncing off the wall and you scan around to find an unbothered desk, tucked away in the corner away from everyone. You take solace in it, sinking into the seat and pulling out your homework folder before placing the paper sack containing your lunch at the corner of the desk.

Lo and behold, Billy decides to sit at the desk in front of you and for the life of you, you can’t figure him out. You see he has a couple friends suffering the same fate of detention but yet, he chooses to spend this hour harassing you. He swipes the paper bag and opens it up, peeking in to see it’s contents.

“What am I having today?” he wonders aloud, dodging your hand as you attempt to grab for your lunch. He pulls out the sandwich and opens the baggie, bringing it to his nose to get a sniff. He winces, exaggerating his disgust as he quickly pulls his head back, “Ew! Tuna?”

You’re able to grab the sandwich from him, meekly replying, “I like tuna.”

“Disgusting. You can keep it,” he mumbles, his eyes back in the bag.

“Hmm, let’s see,” he pulls out the bag of celery and carrots and tosses it onto your desk.

“There’s nothing good in here,” he announces, tone dripping in disappointment.

With a sigh, you reach into your backpack and offer him the pack of Snoballs you’d bought on your walk to school. He snatches them greedily, smiling wide and you don’t know why you even gave them to him.

“Why were you hiding these?” he asks around a mouthful of the pink pastry.

You shrug, “My moms kind of a health nut.”

That was an understatement. She would freak if she knew you were sneaking sweets whenever you could.

“Poor thing,” Billy pouts sarcastically and turns his attention back to the front as the principal walks in and rattles off an excuse why he won’t be in the room but says he’ll be checking in every ten minutes.

Great. With Billy being here you won’t be able to at least make this time productive and do a bit of your homework. You attempt anyway, shoving your lunch in your backpack because you’re suddenly embarrassed to eat it around Billy. You pull out your math worksheet and start at the first problem. Then there’s a mess of blonde curls on the paper and soon after, Billy’s entire head. He’s kicked his legs up over his desk and leaned completely back, looking up at you curiously.

For a brief moment, you admire his chiseled features. His thick eyelashes, bright blue eyes, adorable button nose, pink lips, and his sharp, strong jawline. You feel a slight twinge in your nether regions, something you’d only felt once before when flipping through a copy of Teen Beat at a sleepover. You know you’re blushing because Billy laughs, his adams apple bobbing up and down with the sound.

“Can you move your head? I’m trying to do my homework,” you choke out, trying to ignore how attractive he is.

“No,” he says it so casually, because he doesn’t want to move his head. He likes looking up at you like this, how flustered it’s making you.

However, his neck is starting to hurt and he fears this might look like flirting to someone else. But he’s kind of frozen there, smirking up at you.

“Please,” you whisper, hating the way your voice sounds on your ears.

Billy loves it, smirk turning into a pleased grin and he’s sure you’re soaking in your panties just from looking at his face. Not the safest thought at school, he thinks as he feels his dick twitch in his jeans and sits up, tucking his legs back under the desk and ignores you for the rest of the hour.

You’re relieved but shocked, catching yourself glancing up at the back of his head repeatedly. You’re sure he’s planning something sinister. The warning bell rings and you start to pack up all your things, pulling your lunch out so you can toss it in the trash on your way out. As it turns out, Billy was planning something but it wasn’t as thought out as you’d expected. He waits against the doorframe and as you’re walking past him and Tina, he sticks his foot out. Yours gets caught on it and you fall forward, unable to catch yourself this time as you face plant out into the hallway. Your nose stings, and it’s wet.

“Walk much?” Tina sings and you’re not sure which stings more, your chest or your nose.

You lift yourself up and look down to see blood on the floor, bringing your hand up to your nose and feeling thick fluid pouring out. Then you taste the blood, metallic on your tongue as it seeps down to your mouth.

You expect more laughter, and there is laughter but not the hyena-like laugh you anticipated.

“Oh, shit,” you hear Billy’s voice and feel his hand on your back.

You brace yourself for a shove to the ground but his other hand wraps around your bicep as he helps you to your feet.

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” he says to his buddies, ushering you down the hall and when they give him a confused look, he offers, “Not trying to get more detention.”

That makes sense. Why the hell would he be nice now?

“I figured you would’ve caught yourself,” he mumbles as you head toward the nurses office.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t speak. There’s too much blood and you really don’t like the taste of it. You were naturally clumsy, tripping over air most of the time but Billy doesn’t know that. Doesn’t know you.

As soon as he opens the door, he’s reaching for paper towels and holding them to your nose for you.

“Oh, no!” the nurse exclaims, standing from her desk and rushing over, “What happened?”

“She tripped,” Billy says, “Landed right on her face.”

The nurse nods to Billy, “Thanks for helping her down here. I’ll get her cleaned up. You can go to class.”

He shifts on his feet, “I’d actually like to stay. Make sure she’s okay and all.”

The nurse looks over at you and you nod slowly. You figure he’s making sure you don’t tattle on him again. Billy’s genuinely concerned though, he feels like his father and it makes his skin crawl. He didn’t intend to actually hurt you. Plopping on the cot beside you, he sits so close your arms are touching. His skin is warm, you notice, and it’s weirdly comforting. You think you actually want a hug from him even though he’s the reason your nose hurts so bad.

“Is it gonna bruise?” Billy inquires. He couldn’t forgive himself if it did.

“Too early to tell,” the nurse mumbles, tilting your head back to speed up the process.

The metallic taste drips down your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to get sick from it. You feel Billy’s fingers brush against yours for a brief second and he pulls away quickly. He eyes your face, his brows furrowed. God, he feels like an asshole and you totally think he’s one. A cute one but still an asshole.

“Does it hurt?” he asks when you’re walking to your respective classes, hall passes in hand.

“Yes,” you mutter.

The bridge of your nose aches dully. You also pray it doesn’t bruise, not sure of how to explain it to your mother. If she knew you were being bullied, she would march right up to the school and raise hell. Especially if she found out a boy was the one bullying you.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says, rushed before he walks into his class.

You can’t tell him it’s okay and maybe that’s for the best. It should be okay but you’re honestly not that mad at him.

-

After the awkward apology, you expect the torment to end. Wishful thinking. Billy’s at your locker when you get to it and he extends his hand. You look down at it confused and then back up to his eyes.

“Snoball,” he grunts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He’s just as bad as your mother. You heave a sigh and reach into your backpack, pulling out the packet of Ding-Dongs you’d excitedly purchased at the corner-store.

He laughs childishly as he snatches them from you, “You like Ding-Dongs, eh?”

“Stop,” you can’t handle the innuendo, cheeks on fire.

“I assumed you’d never had one before,” he looks at you with raised brows.

You falter, eyes widening as you push hm away from your locker and begin to enter the code. You haven’t. Ever. You’ve never even kissed a boy.

“And I was right,” Billy muses with another cackle, “You’re a fucking virgin.”

“Leave me alone,” you plead with a mumble, grabbing your textbooks and binders for the first four classes.

“As if that’s news to anyone,” Carol snorts as her and Tommy walk up.

Billy laughs harder, seemingly fueled by his friends joining in on the fun. Your stomach churns. All you want is for them to leave you alone. Sure, you’d dealt with teasing here and there since grade school but this was excessive. You didn’t even understand why they were doing it. Yeah, you were categorized as a nerd and a loner but there had to be another reason why Billy was picking on you so hard. You’d seen him get in fights with guys but you hadn’t seen him be so cruel so anyone else. Or obsessive.

“See ya around, geek,” he shuts your locker before you’re finished getting your things, strutting off down the hall with his friends. Magnetically, your eyes follow his ass in his extremely tight jeans. You catch yourself and press your forehead to your locker, groaning out loud.

-

He had been sure you were a virgin, but now that you’ve confirmed it, his mind is racing. He sits back in his chair, the teachers lecture going in one ear and out the other as he ponders if you’ve even kissed someone before or if he’s the first man to give you any kind of attention.

The thought is odd though. You’re definitely not unattractive. Yeah, you focused on school and when you dressed provocative, he could tell it wasn’t your intention to have eyes on you. God, he loved when you wore skirts. Which, with the season changing and the temperature rising, you did most days.

The bookworm thing kind of turns him on which was new. He’d never been into it before he saw you. All the girls he’d hooked up with in the past ran in the same social circles with him. You were quite the change of pace, maybe that what his fascination with you was about. Who was he kidding? It was your thighs.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as the bell rings, indicating it’s lunch time. Another hour with you. He’s pleased to see you in the same seat as before. He takes the desk in front of you, snaking his leg around the seat so he sits facing you. He picks up the lunch sack placed at the corner and dumps the contents out onto the desk, pursing his lips as he pokes around at what your moms packed today. Not much of it looks good enough to eat. He sees your cleavage peaking up from your shirt and grins, now that’s appetizing.

“That’s a low cut shirt,” he points out, hooking his finger in the collar and pulls the material down.

Your eyes widen as you pull back and slap his hand away. He smirks, watching as your cheeks redden. You pull your shirt back up, willing the warmth spreading up your thighs to subside as you squeeze them together. You liked this kind of teasing much more and wished he’d just stick to that stuff.

“Can I put my lunch away now or are you not done picking through it?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

His mouth scrunches up to the side, like he’s thinking it over before he delicately picks up the baggie filled with apple slices. He opens it and pulls one out, inspecting it carefully before taking a bite of it. He keeps his eyes on yours while he eats it and his gaze gets too intense for you to hold. Shoving the various baggies of food back the paper sack, you keep your eyes focused on your hands. In your peripheral, you notice Billy holding out an apple slice to you. As you peer up, fingers extending to accept the offer, he pulls his hand back and laughs. You give him a defeated look.

“Get it with your teeth, not your fingers,” he instructs, his tone condescending as he offers it again.

You don’t know why, but you listen, taking the apple slice with your teeth. You hate the way he smiles at you, like he knows he could get you to do anything for him. Worst of all, you hate that you would, hate the way he excites you, the way you want to do what he says. You’re worried you might be a whore.

Your mom had warned you about boys like Billy. Boys with pretty eyes and smiles that could corrupt you. Perhaps that’s why you’ve never entertained the thought of being involved with any boy in that way.

He grins sadistically, “Good girl.”

Your breath catches in your throat. His words only making that rising heat harder to ignore.

You’re saved by Mr. Anderson, “Billy. Sit in the goddamn seat properly and stop antagonizing Ms. Y/L/N.”

Billy’s snatching your pencil before he follows the principals order. You think you see him blushing when he’s yelled at but you can’t be sure, it happens too fast. You reach into your pencil case to replace the one he’s stolen, getting started on the chemistry homework you were dreading. You wish he’d distract you again, but he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t say another word to you the rest of the hour and you don’t see him the remainder of the school day.

#billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fic #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove #billy hargrove angst

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes

This is to answer a request I received from an anonymous user a couple of months ago “Billy asks shy reader out and is protective over her”, for some reason I can't directly respond to their post still getting used to Tumblr. Sorry for taking a while to write this one. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away and turned it into a short fic, I just loved the whole concept. I’ll definitely post a part 2. Comments and constructive opinions are always appreciated 🩷

Part 1

You have always watched him from a distance.

There was something magnetic about him. Where he was, energy swirled.

You have never spoken to him. He’s something inaccessible to you. He hangs out with the popular crowd. Yet, unlike all of them, he doesn’t seem to pretend. He doesn’t show up. He naturally exudes an aura that makes him alluring. He’s not just what could be called "hot." No, he’s beautiful. When you first saw him in the school hallways, you could swear that for a second, your heart stopped. He was playing with his lighter, walking with an assured stride in the direction of his classroom with Jason Carver. He was a palette of contrasting colors that stood out in perfect harmony. His tanned face was framed by long, golden curls that almost fell over his shoulders. He looked straight ahead as he listened to the boy at his side with his red mouth stretched into a smirk that revealed white teeth. His cupid bow was dusted with stubble. It was no surprise that most of the girls looked at him with no shame, the shyest ones glancing up as soon as he passed them. That California boy did not look like a boy. He looked like a man. You could tell by the way he was built, the black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the muscular legs in his denim jeans.

You had realized that you were staring openly at him when he passed by you and, probably feeling the weight of your gaze on him, his eyes had met yours. There, something had happened inside you. His eyes were the purest blue you had ever seen. They were crystalline. But it was the long dark lashes that gave his gaze something expressive and unique. They were the embodiment of what is called a piercing gaze. It was a unique paradox: as angelic as it was rough in outline. Awakening from your enchantment, you lowered your gaze with an abrupt jerk of your head and resumed putting your books away in the locker, feeling your cheeks on fire and your heart beating wildly.

That was the only time you had even a remote semblance of contact with him. 

As you rush to your English literature class a month later, rounding the corner of the hallway, the last thing you expect is to bump into him. You let out an "ouch" as you collide with his hard chest, your notes and pencil case tumbling to the ground in the chaos. It's only when you raise your eyes in a flurry of apologies that you realize who you've bumped into. You swallow, kneeling and picking up your notes hastily. 

"You alright?"

"Yes. Yes." the notes slip through your shaking fingers.

His hands appear in your field of vision, and when you accidentally touch them, an electric shock almost makes you wince. He helps you pick them up, then raises to his feet and holds them to you. You thank him, thinking about what else you could say to avoid making the situation awkward. His baby blue shirt matches the color of his eyes. He’s even prettier from closer. 

"You are in history class with me, right ?"

His question surprises you. You didn't think he would remember you. You didn't think he would notice you.

"Yes. That's right."

He holds out his hand, his heavy-lidded gaze on you. "Billy."

You shake his hand, introducing yourself. His hand is large and his grip his firm, but gentle at the same time. That touch makes your stomach tangle. You can't believe he is talking to you.

"You're new, right?" you ask. You know fully well that he arrived here a month ago. You know full well that he is from California. He probably knows that you know, but he doesn't say anything about it

"Yes. Moved here last month."

“Oh, okay. Welcome to Hawkins, then.” you say gently as you absently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence, him probably waiting for you to say something else. You point at the door down the hallway, starting to walk away. “I ah, I have to go to class. Sorry.”

And you walk away, no, you scurry away, almost escaping him, feeling a pang of embarrassment as you replay the scene later in your head, regretting how abruptly you left without saying more. 

You don’t cross paths with him again after that. However, you are clearly more aware of his presence during history classes even though you don’t interact again. 

In recent months, you've adopted a strategy of minimizing your visibility as much as possible. It’s not always easy. That Thursday is one of the hard days. Mr. Jensen, the new history teacher, makes his way through the rows of desks, collecting permission slips signed by parents for the upcoming day trip he has organized to Indianapolis. 

"Ah, I don't seem to have your permission slip yet," he inquires gently as he sees you empty-handed. "Did you forget to bring it today?" 

Feeling the eyes of everyone on you, your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. You hate all of this attention on you. "I, um, I haven't been able to get it signed yet. My dad's been working double shifts, and I haven't caught him at home."

“I understand,” the teacher says, “But I need to give all the signed papers to the principal by tomorrow. Is it possibly to get it signed today? By your mother, perhaps?”

Before you could answer, Tommy Hagan's voice pierces the air, his tone laced with mockery. "She's probably halfway across the country by now, cozying up with some other guy."

You don’t even turn to look at him. You saw it coming. It’s been five months since she left now. Hawkins is a small town, so the news spread quickly. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact with your classmates as you feel the weight of their curious gazes. 

"I uh...I just," you try to ignore Tommy's comment, resting your eyes on the professor whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell my dad tonight. He's just been really busy. I will bring it to class tomorrow."

“If he comes back with the milk.” snickers Tommy. 

You stiffen instantly without wanting to, which the teacher doesn’t fail to notice.

“That's enough, Mr. Hagan. Comments like that have no place in my classroom.” he snaps as his eyes darken, his jaw set. His expression softens as he turns to me “Don't worry about the permission slip for now. We'll make sure you're included."

As the professor returns to his seat, your eyes remain fixed on the spot where the bench is chipped, absently touching it with your fingernail. Your body fails to relax as you fight to ignore the burning in your throat, careful not to blink, your vision blurred for a few moments. But Tommy's yelp draws your attention and you turn your head to your left, where he is sitting next to Billy. 

“Ow. What was that for, man?”

Tommy is rubbing his shoulder, his face scrunched up in pain and a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face. Billy stares straight ahead, his face cold and hard. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" he eventually mutters under the teacher’s explanation. However, it sounds more like a statement than a question.

As you go back to stare at your desk, your throat is still burning but your vision is clear again. You wonder if what Billy said was because of Tommy's comments. Why would he defend you? 

The rest of the class passes in a blur of confusion and unanswered questions. Tommy's hurtful words echo in your mind, leaving you shaken and upset, the sting of their cruelty lingering long after the bell rings.

***

On the morning of the school trip, you are tempted to call the school and say you are sick, but your father comes back from the plant later in the morning and will see that you are actually fine. Also, Mr. Jensen might suspect that something is going on. Only, the idea of spending the day with the whole class, but feeling more alone than you are when you're at school, doesn't appeal to you. You've never been very outgoing. Since your mother left, the armor that covered you has only thickened, alienating you from the rest of the world. To this day you have received no answers. She left overnight without warning. You never received a call. You knew that things had not been going well between your parents for some time. Or rather, your mother kept complaining about how being in Hawkins was suffocating her, how she was no longer happy. The pain was slowly becoming coated with resentment. She had abandoned you and your father as if nothing had happened, as if years of living together had counted for nothing. As if being a family had cost nothing. Arriving on the ground floor and finding the kitchen light off had now become a habit, not an odd occurrence. Other things had become routine: the unaccustomed silence in your house, the TV once perpetually on now always off, the teapot once always in use was now in the kitchen drawer. 

Once on the school bus, you spend your time looking out the window and counting the trees on the distant hills. You can feel the wind blowing outside, the rain pelting cruelly on the window. A crack lets a trickle of air through, making you shiver and clench tighter in your jacket. The ride at least passes quietly, no one talking to you or bothering you. Tommy Hagan keeps his comments to himself, too busy jabbering in the back of the bus with his band of friends. You can hear the occasional shrillness in the voice of Carol Perkins, his girlfriend. 

You spend almost the entire morning in the Indiana Historical Society, following the professor through the corridors of the museum. You stay in the background, drowning out the guide's voice and looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. As you change rooms, you realize that you are not the only one who has remained aloof. Billy Hargrove lingers to your side at the back of the row of students, his hands tucked into his leather jacket. You try not to be affected by his presence, suddenly self-conscious of the way you walk and breathe. You still remember what he told Tommy Hagan the week before. You are increasingly convinced that he defended you. As the class spreads in different directions, everyone observing something different and speaking lowly in small groups you realize he’s still here, on your side.  As you ponder if you should say something, or just assume that he’s walking behind on his own, he catches you off guard. 

“Kinda boring, huh?” 

“Yeah, a little," you respond, offering him a small smile that probably looks like a grimace. "History isn't my cup of tea."

“Mine neither,” his gaze scans the display cases lining the wall on your left. “Beats being seated all day in class, though.”

“Definitely,” you nod in agreement as you slowly cross through another room. Desperately trying to fill the silence, you come up with the first thing that crosses your mind. “I’ve been here before.”

“The museum?” 

“Indianapolis,” you say. You hesitate before finishing your thoughts. “My grandma lived here. I spent some weekends at hers.” 

Billy hums. He sniffs, then retrieves some chewing gums from his back pocket. He unwraps one. “How’s the city?” 

“It’s great. Oh, thank you.” you softly say as you take the gum he’s offering you. “There are some nice parks.” 

He pops the chewing gum in his mouth. “We have quite a few in San Diego too.

You turn toward him, curiosity overcoming your shyness. “You lived in San Diego?”

“Yes. Big change of scenery.”

“I can imagine.” your gaze wanders to the antique objects displayed in a glass case. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks incredible.” memories of your dad's album, from when he was young, flood your mind – images of palm trees swaying in the breeze, golden beaches stretching for miles, and endless blue skies that seemed to merge seamlessly with the ocean. 

“That’s something else, yeah. Honestly, I couldn’t complain at all.” 

“I wish I could see California,” you say a little dreamily. 

“I can take you one day.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. So you let out a nervous giggle, avoiding his gaze, assuming he is joking. Fortunately, the professor calls your attention back. It's lunchtime and he tells you that you are free to go wherever you want, as long as you are outside the museum within four hours. You told your father the school would pay for the student's lunch because you know times are tough. He insisted on giving you ten dollars in case you need it.

You walk down the steps of the museum looking around and thinking about where you could make all this time go. It's going to be long. You know a few restaurants, but you know that your pocket money is clearly not enough to eat there. A gust of wind brings the smell of smoke to your nostrils, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy stop beside you. His eyes take in your surroundings.

“So, you told me you know the city.”

“Huh, yes,” you answer, a little lost. “Not all of it, but most of it, like downtown.”

Billy exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth.  “Are we downtown?” 

You look around, recognizing the skyscrapers in the distance. "Yes," you point to the skyline to your right, figuring he simply wants to ask you for information so he knows where to go with his friends. "It's over there."

“Sweet. Are you hungry?” 

The silence that passes between the two of you makes him turn toward you, waiting for your response. So you rush to answer, ignoring the way his piercing blue eyes make you feel self-conscious.

“Yes. Yes, a little bit,” then you ask him, unsure: “...and you?”

“Starving.” he resumes walking down the stairs again, and you follow him, trying to figure out if he really means what you think he means. Some classmates are already leaving in different directions. “You know someplace to eat?” 

“I do. But I don’t have enough. In case you want to go together. If that’s what you were offering.” You add, mentally slapping yourself. Why does everything you say have to come across as weird? Besides, you just admitted that you are practically out of money. “I can show you, though.”

Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll pay.” 

“No, really, I can't let you do that," you insist, your voice tinged with concern. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I can't just let you pay for me."

Billy turns to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he exhales the smoke sideways. "Come on, it's no big deal," he reassures you. "Consider it my way of saying thanks for showing me around. Besides, it's not like I'm short on cash."

You hesitate for a moment. But ultimately, you know that accepting his offer would ease the burden on your wallet. With a resigned sigh, you nod in agreement. "Okay, if you insist," you concede, offering him a small smile. "But just this once.”

You wanna immediately grimace at your pathetic implication that there would be another time, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice anyway.

He just winks at you. It makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way. I'm starving."

As you walk beside each other through the park later on, you relish in what surrounds you, not even realizing the silence that has settled between the two of you because it feels so natural. Some people are jogging, there are some families too, or people walking alone headed who knows where. The birds are chirping in the trees that are alongside the walk. You spot a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of one of them, its fluffy tail waving wildly. The late afternoon sun is shining right in front of you, hitting your skin in a gentle caress. Spring is gradually unfurling its colors, bringing with it a glimmer of warmth that has been absent from your life lately. In the midst of the cold and desolation that settled in after your mother's departure, this glimpse of light offers a tentative promise of renewal, a small beacon of hope amid the darkness that has enveloped you and your father. You glance at Billy, realizing that in the short span of your conversation, he's frequently reached for a cigarette. Yet, even during the moments when he abstained, like in the museum and at the restaurant, his mouth was never empty. It was either occupied by a mint, a bite of burger, the straw of his milkshake, or eventually a toothpick found on the table. 

“So, uhm, have you been somewhere else besides San Diego or Hawkins?” you venture. 

“Nope”, he answers, the “p” resounding loudly. He looks around, one hand in his jacket pocket as the other one holds the cigarette on his side. “Never moved from Cali. I was born in Santa Barbara. Then moved to San Diego when I was ten.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Is Santa Barbara close to the ocean?”

“It is. I have always lived by the ocean.” 

You turn to him, enthusiasm laced in your voice as you get carried away in the conversation. “So you know how to surf?” 

Billy chuckles, nodding as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “I do, yeah. Surfed every day.” 

“Wow.” you breathe, your mind wandering away. “It must be…like an adrenaline rush.”

As Billy exhales the smoke, you don’t miss the nostalgic glint flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, it's something else. There's nothing quite like catching a wave, feeling the power of the ocean beneath you."

“I’ve heard it’s hard to learn.” you muse softly. 

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps punctuates the conversation. Billy stays silent for a few seconds, probably lost in his thoughts. Then he shrugs. “To be honest, I was on the surfboard since I was a child, so must’ve been natural for me. But yeah, it generally is.

“I can only imagine," you respond, a sense of longing in your voice. You’ve only seen this kind of landscape in pictures or on TV.  "Must have been amazing growing up with that kind of freedom."

Billy's sigh is loud as he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It was. Surfing was my escape, you know? Whenever things got tough, I could just grab my board and disappear into the waves."

What he says lightens some curiosity in you. You wonder what he means by that. You wonder what he went through, what his past was like. There’s something really intriguing about him. But you refrain from asking more, aware of how little you know each other. Besides, you can’t help but notice the little twitch of his jaw muscles as he says it. 

"For me, it's always been books.” you offer. “They have this way of transporting you to another world, making you forget about everything else."

Billy nods in understanding. “What kinda books do you read?”

“Oh,” you look at your shoes as you feel suddenly vulnerable. You almost feel ashamed of your taste in books, but you know you shouldn’t. “A bit of everything, really. I’m reading a Dostoevsky one right now.

“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff,” he says, arching an eyebrow. 

“You’ve read some of him before?

“I read Dream of a Ridiculous Man. A long time ago though.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, recalling how challenging it was to finish it when you read it a couple of months ago. Reading books by Dostoevsky, especially that one, has been both a cathartic and enlightening experience. They made you feel less alone in your pain. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda controversial.” he grimaces. “It’s a fucking depressing book. But... it's like... there's something about it that just... resonates, you know? Like, you read it and... it's like looking into a mirror, but... the reflection's all twisted and weird. I don't know if that makes any sense.” he shrugs. 

It couldn’t make more any sense to you. For the first time, you feel understood in that sense. It's a relief to know that you're not alone in finding meaning within its pages. His words resonate deeply with you. 

“I totally get it. That’s part of the reason why I like his books.” 

The subtle revelation hangs in the air with the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the concrete path. You hope he’s not reflecting on your words too much, aware of what you’ve implied. Your own thoughts go on what he said. Why did Billy resonate so much with the book? What if there’s something everybody can relate to, even people who haven’t experienced anything bad in life?

“What about you?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”

“Born and raised.” you nod. Then you add, a bit sheepishly: “Nothing like California, unfortunately.” 

Billy snorts, flicking his cigarette. “What’s there to do in summer?”

“Oh uh. Nothing much. We have a public pool.” you offer, looking at him. 

Billy takes a drag, his eyes trailing on the path in front of both of you.

“We have Lover’s Lake too,” you add. “It’s quite nice, actually. People spend the day there and have barbecues or campfires.” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that one,” he says. “That you guys party by the lake during summer or something like that.” 

“Yes.” then you keep quiet for a few breaths, imagining he’s probably heard it from one of his friends from the basketball team. They’re usually to host parties or organize them. It always involves loads of alcohol and ends up in big scandals. You feel the urge to correct him. “Not me, though. I don’t, uh…I don’t party.” 

You feel his eyes on you. “Makes sense.”

You look up at him in question. 

“Didn’t see you at the Halloween party.”

“The one hosted by Tina Williams?” you soon look away as soon as you meet his gaze. “I didn’t know you…you noticed.”

“Would’ve noticed if you were there.”

As Billy's words settle in, you feel a warmth spreading through you, starting from the tips of your ears and flushing your cheeks crimson. His simple compliment catches you off guard, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within you. You find yourself struggling to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering away as you search for some semblance of composure. None of this makes sense. The mere fact that he recognized your absence at the party, that he shared lunch with you, that he's now walking beside you in the park—it all feels inexplicable. You're accustomed to blending into the background, being an outcast in the bustling halls of the school. You're no stranger to the whispers that swirl around you, painting you as the outsider, the comments about your situation at home, the subtle jabs at your circumstances. The silence between you stretches, pregnant with unspoken thoughts. 

“You’re alright?” you hear him ask.

You slow down, lingering to a stop as you realize Billy has stopped walking too. He looks down at you with a hint of curiosity, the sun caressing his golden skin and reflecting in his eyes, becoming like polished, crystalline gems. That’s when you notice little details you haven’t paid attention to before. The scar cutting through his right eyebrow, the pattern of freckles dusting his nose. 

“I guess I’m just a little confused,” you admit. 

Billy exhales the smoke from his nostrils, his gaze effortlessly fixed intensely on you. “Why is that?”

“I just…” you try to not avoid his gaze. “Why are you here with me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and what looks like genuine confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His question is so simple it takes you off guard. Makes you question your reasoning. As you’re at a loss for words, you feel a blush slowly creeping down your cheeks. 

Billy’s lips slowly curve into a smile, somewhat teasing. “You really have pretty eyes, you know that?”

You’re positively sure you’re as red as a lobster now, a little whine escaping your lips as embarrassment settles over you. It’s the most instinctual reaction. It makes him chuckle, and makes you awkwardly laugh in response, because what else can you do? He tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your avoiding eyes. 

“How about that? I’m here with you ‘cause of your pretty eyes”. 

“I really don’t think they’re that special.” you shake your head, still laughing. 

You’re not that innocent to not realise he’s openly flirting with you. You’re not surprised, because just looking at him is enough. You’ve also heard things about him and some girls at high school. What surprises you, is that he’s flirting with you. You don’t have that much experience in the love department, but there’s something sincere and genuine in the way he’s doing it now. There’s something soft in his eyes that tells you he’s sincere.

“Well, it’s a shame,” he says, that’s when you realise how much closer you are to each other. You can tell by how you can smell the tobacco and his cologne, his silver earring shining as it catches the sun. He tilts his head again, this time catching your gaze as you muster the courage to lock eyes with him. “’Cause you have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, nodding your head slightly. You swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

You feel like you want to return the compliment because his eyes are the reason why your heart is reacting the way it does. But then again, you’re too shy to do that, and a tiny part of you thinks it would make things weird or would end up having you vulnerable because you don’t know for sure if his compliment is fueled by real interest in you. 

“I don’t waste my time with people if I don’t think they’re worth it either, trust me.”

As a distant church bells toll four times, their echoes drifting across the park, a subtle reminder of the passing time washes over you both. The realization settles in that it’s time for you to go. You should be back in front of the museum in half an hour. 

Luckily, Billy saves you from answering as he breaks eye contact and looks up beyond your shoulder, where the church is. “We should go,” he says.

As you walk back to the museum, you think about his words. Now you realize that you didn’t see him hanging around Tommy Hagan lately. In particular, today on the bus, the latter was seated with his girlfriend and hung out with two other members of the basketball team. Billy was somewhere else the whole time.

When you two reach the museum, the teacher is already counting everyone to make sure the whole class is there. Billy joins his mates, elbowing one of them in a friendly gesture. You didn’t fail the notice the looks most of your classmates shot at you when he saw you two arrive together. The teacher draws the class's attention back to the trip, prompting feedback and reflections from everyone.

What you don’t expect either once on the bus, is feeling someone sitting on the empty seat next to yours. Billy gets comfortable, making it seem something so normal as he stretches his long legs as far as the cramped quarters allow. His thigh brushes against yours and your heart jumps a little in your ribcage, but a few minutes later you start to relax. You can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest as you take in his choice to sit deliberately next to you. You don’t need to fill the silence, or at least not as strongly as a few hours ago. You’re also quite tired. As you venture a glance in his direction, Billy’s eyes are closed. It seems you’re not the only one feeling tired. His arms are crossed over his chest but his facial features are totally relaxed now that he’s dozing off, his head resting against the seat. His hair seems soft at the touch, a curl falling unruly on his forehead. You feel the distant urge to wrap it around your finger, brush it from his face. There is a difference between now and when he’s fully awake: his expression softened, his gaze peaceful, and his features relaxed. It's a stark contrast from the demeanor you've observed from a distance, where his smile is more wolfish, his facial muscles tense, and his eyes often distant or bored. You force yourself to look away from him, setting your gaze on the window. As the rhythmic hum of the bus lulls you into a state of drowsiness, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the moment envelops you, and soon, you find yourself dozing off as well. 

Once you get off the bus, you wrap your arms around your waist as you shiver. The weather is distinctly different. It seems to have been raining all day. The sky is darkening. School buses cannot take you home because there is no bus stop near your house. Forest Hill Trailer Park is in the isolated part of Hawkins. There is no one from the high school living there, so you can't ask anyone for a ride. It's not like anyone would have offered anyway. You've always walked to and from school, in total it takes you forty minutes. As you start to walk away from the bus, you hear footsteps behind you and Billy is at your side, effortlessly catching up with you. You realize his car is parked a few steps away from you. The gleaming navy blue Camaro stands out among the other cars, "CALIFORNIA" on the license plate.

You take the opportunity to thank him before he can dart away and you will probably never exchange another word again.

“Hey,” you start, turning to look at him. “I just wanted to thank you for paying at lunch today.”

Billy plays with the lighter, making it bounce in his hand. “It’s nothing. How are you getting home?”

“Oh, I’m walking.” you point your thumb at the road on your left.

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Your mouth opens and closes stupidly, then your brain finally decides to cooperate. Accepting his offer feels like taking advantage of his kindness. You don't want to do this. “I…it’s not a long walk, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s probably gonna rain again soon.” he points at the sky, walking past you and toward the parked car.

“You don’t have to.” you insist, guilt filling my stomach as he opens the passenger door for you.

“I know.” he chuckles. 

The soft thrumming of a rock song fills the air, the bass pulsing gently as Billy lowers the volume as soon as he turns the engine on. The interior of the Camaro envelops you in a world that feels distinctly his. The smell of leather fills your senses, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne. It's clear that he takes immense pride in his car and the care and attention he devotes to it reflects on the interior. The leather seats feel soft and smooth. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corners. A pair of aviators rests on the dashboard. 

You give him directions, your voice cutting through the quiet ambiance of the car. He nods in acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the road ahead. His left arm casually drapes against the window, while his other hand firmly grasps the top of the steering wheel. 

“It’s quite a walk,” he observes as the Camaro speeds through the road surrounded by the woods. 

“Yeah…”

You’re thinking of asking him to stop before getting to Forest Hill, but it’s pouring and you don’t have an umbrella. As you get closer and closer, anxiety starts rippling through you. You shake the feeling out of your head. You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Additionally, you barely know him. You try and distract yourself, asking him about where he lives instead.

“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?” 

“Yes, it’s a nice and quiet area. It’s not that far from school either,” you observe.

Billy absently scratches his chin, the glint of a silver braided ring catching your eye. “Yeah. It’s quiet, that’s for sure.” 

You find yourself wondering about its significance. Does it have one? You've heard numerous accounts of Billy's involvement in fights at parties, tales of the severe injuries sustained by those who crossed him, and the ferocity of his punches. How many times has that ring been tainted with someone else's blood? Despite the rumors surrounding his aggressive behavior, your interactions with Billy have always been positive. He's consistently shown kindness to you.

Billy turns left, veering off the main road onto a narrow side road, the tires crunching on the gravelly dirt path that winds its way towards Forest Hills. The rain drums insistently against the car, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence between you.

The first trailer emerges into view, its weather-beaten exterior casting a shadow of foreboding over your already uneasy mind. Despite your discomfort, you muster the courage to speak up, directing Billy to continue driving until the end of the road.

You steal a furtive glance at him, searching for any hint of judgment in his expression, but Billy remains impassive. There's no trace of surprise or disdain in his features. His gaze lingers on the scene before you, studying it with a detached curiosity that seems to characterize his view of Hawkins as a whole.

“Thanks again for today, really. I wanna pay you back,” you venture as he slows down.

Billy waves a dismissive hand before settling it on the gear shift, smoothly transitioning into first gear. “I told you it’s no big deal. Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

You worry at your lip, still not totally convinced. You glance at him. “I know that. But it doesn’t sound fair. It’s important to me.”

Billy's gaze shifts to the road ahead as he seemingly considers your words. "If you really wanna make it up to me," he starts, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continues, "How about you show me around Hawkins sometime?"

You blink, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Show you around Hawkins?"

"Yeah," he nods, resting his forearm loosely on the steering wheel as he gestures while he talks. "I've only been here a short while, and I don't really know my way around outside downtown yet. Like, all the places you talked to me about. The lake, the quarry."

The idea appeals to you, though the thought of spending more time with him outside of school never crossed your mind. The fact of spending time with him in the first place was out of the charts for you. "Sure, I could do that," you reply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I mean, I'm not exactly a tour guide, but I could show you some cool spots. Whenever you want, uhm. Yeah.”

Billy reaches out to the compartment on the passenger side, brushing your knee with his arm. He opens it and extracts a pen. 

“Here,” he takes off the cap with his teeth, and before you know it he’s taking your arm, gently lifting your sweater sleeve. 

You try to look unfazed by his touch, though the feeling of his fingertips pressing gently against your skin as he holds your forearm, the sensation of the pen as he writes something on it makes you shiver, raising goosebumps. You look at him in silent confusion as he writes, his dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sharp canine as he holds the cap between them. Then he releases your arm, and you take a look at it while he takes the cap from his mouth. A series of numbers are written in blue ink on your skin. A phone number.

“Oh.” you say softly. You definitely haven’t expected that.

“Call me when you feel like it.” 

It’s really hard for you to hide your nervousness, acting as cool as you can.

“Okay, will do.” you unbuckle your belt, glancing at him enough to give him a soft smile.

Billy nods at you in silent farewell before you close the passenger door. “Have a good night”.

“You too. Bye.”

The warmth of Billy's presence lingers in the car as you step out into the cool, damp air, the raindrops falling softly around you. Closing the door behind you, you watch as the sleek navy blue Camaro disappears down the little road and into the woods from the small window of the living room. As you stand there, the drops of water falling from the end of your hair, you can't help but brush at the phone number on your forearm, tracing the neat handwriting with your fingertips. It's like you're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. Though you're trying to keep it under control, you can't help the fluttering feeling in your heart.

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #billy hargove x reader #stranger things fic #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #dacryphilia #eddie munson #billy hargrove x y/n #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x you #stranger things smut

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

18 | Masterlist

Summary: Billy Hargrove needs a Queen and you need someone to help you get out of the hellhole that you are currently in as you move to Hawkins. It should be an easy and obvious solution, right?

Not, not even close. Because it doesn't matter if Billy keeps dreaming about you or that you think that if the sun and the sea had a love child it would look like Billy, you really hate each other's guts -at least, that's what you keep telling yourselves- until you are caught in a not so great position. literally. Lots of insults flying around, lots of lying to yourself, lots of fighting before ending up against a wall your lips inches away from his because that's what enemies do, right?

billy hargrove masterlist

playlist

prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight * | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen | chapter fourteen | chapter fifteen* | chapter sixteen* | chapter seventeen | chapter eighteen* | chapter nineteen | chapter twenty* | chapter twenty-one | chapter twenty-two | chapter twenty-three* | chapter twenty-four | chapter twenty-five (scheduled a week from now- read early on my ko-fii!!!)

updates on monday, wednesday, friday

also, smut:*

author's note: my writing doesn't condone billy's action in the show.

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove aesthetic #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanart #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove headcanons #billy hargrove au #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fan fiction #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove masterlist #billy hargrove x y/n #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #billy hargrove series

[eufezco]

DADS — Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N — Just some headcanons of them as dads. I'm going through a writer's block and this is the only thing I've been able to finish 🥹 I'll try to post something better tomorrow english isn't my first language

BILLY HARGROVE

Billy would go so soft for a baby girl. He would learn how to tie her hair into ponytails, braids, buns and actually be good at it. She would have his dark blonde hair with some curls too, her eyes intensively blue like his dad and a beautiful smile like his. The rest of her little face would be just like yours. Your nose, your lips, your cheeks. It was the perfect combination of you two. Billy would drive her to kindergarten and school every day, sending deathly glances to any boy who gets suspiciously close to her.

Really attentive during your pregnancy and always tries to hide how soft he gets when he sees you carrying his child. Billy also gives the best back rubs ever, his hands are big and strong, his fingers skilled as nobody's. He's always up to help you relieve some stress, you sitting in between his legs and sighing at how his hans worked on your back.

Billy's dad was an asshole and he needed to ask someone for help so he would end up going to Max's mother, the woman really glad that he comes to her before making the same mistakes as his dad. She'd teach him how to cook some basic dishes, what you could and couldn't eat, what he needed to bring to the hospital by the time you gave birth, and how to make you feel better like holding your belly from behind, helping you to shower, foot massages...

Hate to say this but he hates when the baby cries at night and would probably let you go to take care of her every single time. He would make it up for you in the morning tho, letting you sleep more time and him taking care of the baby.

Billy would never admit it but he secretly loves when Max interacts with the baby. He would act all stubborn when Max and you play with the baby, you smiling when Max softly puts her headphones on the baby's ears and play some soft music. The baby humming and trying to grab Max's walkman. Billy would watch the scene from the distance with butterflies in his stomach.

Billy would love wrapping the baby with his leather jacket like a burrito. The baby snuggling and enjoying his dad's cologne and Billy just rocking her between his arms.

He would quit smoking or at least he'd never do it around the baby. He stopped when you got pregnant, and it was pretty hard for him at first. Billy would go on night walks alone just so he could smoke but when you started to feel pain, puking, and basically needing him by your side, Billy forgot about smoking.

His favorite part of parenthood is admiring how pretty his baby girl is. She'd have these deep blue eyes just like him but she'd have the same features as you, making Billy love her even more if possible. Sometimes he would just lay on the bed with her, bumping her nose, squeezing her cheeks, or tickling her belly. The baby trying to suck on his dad's fingers every time they got close to her face, trying to grab them with her tiny little hands, and Billy just tickling her palm, making her giggle.

EDDIE MUNSON

Oh, he would rock with a little girl with the same deep brown eyes as him and with his messy curly hair too. You adoring how your daughter looks just like his dad and thinking of how she would probably inherit Eddie's personality and hobbies too (not the drug dealing, of course) like playing guitar and playing D&D.

Eddie would buy her every metal band t-shirt he could find, even if she was still a baby and won't understand nor enjoy that type of music. If there wasn't her size, he'd just use one of his on her. Eddie's shirt being bigger than the toddler and making her look like a ghost walking around the house.

Of course, Eddie stopped smoking before the baby was born, when he heard you coughing one time. Also stopped drug dealing a long time ago. He probably kept doing it after you two moved in together so he could maintain you two and not only live with your salary. But he'd find a proper job and he'd love it. He’d work at a music store, surrounded by tapes and vinyls of his favorite artists and recommending customers the best guitar for them. Nevertheless, his favorite part of the work was getting home to his baby girl waiting for him and clumsily walking to him just for Eddie to pick her up in his arms and devour her with kisses.

He's a fun dad, he's always up to play or spend time with his daughter even if he is busy doing something else, like practicing with Corroded Coffin. Eddie would stop the rehearsal immediately and the boys wouldn't care less because they also loved spending time with the little girl. But your daughter only likes one of Eddie's friends, and that is Dustin. He is always super thorough with her, tickling her belly when she was a baby and making the little her softly kick her feet and move her small arms full of joy. Dustin would also give to her all of his toys from when he was younger, her loving every action figure and every dinosaur. He's your trusted babysitter when Eddie wants to take you on a date.

Eddie would buy her her own guitar. When she was a toddler, he got a toy guitar for her so she could familiarise with the instrument, the baby just pinching the strings without any sense. When she started growing up, Eddie go t her a real one and he'd teach her some basics so she could decide if she liked it. Also, he'd sit your daughter on his lips and play piano, the two-year-old girl hypnotized by the melody her dad was playing, even though her favorite part was when Eddie let her smack the keys with her tiny hands.

Sometimes his sleep was so deep he wouldn't hear her crying at night and he'd feel guilty in the morning for you having to wake up, you assuring him by kissing his cheeks that you didn't mind. But other times Eddie would wake up even before she could start crying, it was like a sixth sense.

The baby loves playing with Eddie's long hair, sometimes pulling it hard enough to make his dad whine. Her curls would be crazy, he learned how to control them in two ponytails so they wouldn't get on her face. When she was a baby and couldn't complain about her hair, Eddie loved trying different hairstyles on her, using water to create a perfect mohican on her that got your mouth open once you got home from work "She's a rockstar." Eddie would allege.

JONATHAN BYERS

I see Jonathan with a baby boy. He's got some experience being a father figure to Will so he knows how to handle a little boy. If it's a girl, he'd have heart eyes all the time. I mean, he had El but she was already a teenager when she moved with them to California, so a little girl would be a dream for him.

He panics all the time during your pregnancy, thinking he's gonna hurt you or that he's gonna mess it up at any time. The truth is that he's super careful with you and it was practically impossible for him to hurt you, even unintentionally. Jonathan would insist on sleeping in the couch, alleging that it is for you to have more space but he's just scared of hurting your belly or you not sleeping well because of him. You'd wake up in the middle of the night and go to the living room, shaking Jonathan carefully and telling him that you couldn't sleep without him.

Jonathan relies on Joyce a lot, he'd even take notes of every advice his mom gives him, and he's got so many questions because he wants not only to be the best father but the best partner for you too. His dad was an asshole so he knew specially what he didn't have to do and what he would've liked his own dad to do, so he just needed to know what he could do for you.

You'd basically moved in with the Byers house during your pregnancy, all of them being super supportive and helping you both through your pregnancy. El and Will being the best entertainment when Jonathan was working, Hopper cooking the most delicious food you've ever tried and going to the grocery store when you were having cravings, and Joyce buying a bigger bed to Jonathan's room so you could sleep together.

The baby would be Jonathan's new favorite thing to photograph. He didn't like polaroid cameras until you got pregnant. Taking pics of you sleeping, of your and his hand on your belly... He would always have a camera around to photograph his child: playing in the park, on the first kindergarten/school day, when you dressed him up as a pumpkin during the first Halloween, and with his tiny and round face stained with cake on his birthday... Jonathan would be always taking pictures of you and the baby, keeping the polaroids in his wallet, in the glove compartment of his car, and even stuck on the wall of his place of work.

He's the one waking up in the middle of the night when the baby cries. Whispering to you to go back to sleep and kissing your forehead. Stumbling on his feet, trying to get to the baby's room as fast as he could, not even thinking of letting you handle the situation. Once the baby stopped crying, he would take him to your bed, lying him in between you two and Jonathan with one of his hands always having some type of contact with the baby to know that he's fine.

His favorite part is putting the baby to sleep. He's a pretty calm guy so it's quite easy for him to transmit that calmness to his son, the baby humming and squirming in his dad's arms at how comfortable he was and probably would start crying the moment Jonathan puts him down on his crib. He'd also help you to sleep later, having your head resting on his lap and playing with your hair until you fall asleep.

He's always telling you that you are the best mom or that you are doing so good with the kid, kissing your cheeks and giving you the best heartwarming compliments, basically making you feel so loved. Joyce told him that some new mothers sometimes felt like they weren't doing good enough for their children, so he's always making sure that you know how well you are doing and how happy and healthy your baby looks thanks to you.

STEVE HARRINGTON

Best dad ever. He would only have eyes for you and your daughter, Steve literally lives for both of you. Probably he wouldn't wait until your girl is one-year-old to start talking about having another child.

The happiest man alive when he you told him that you were pregnant. He'd kiss and talk to your belly all the time, resting his hand there, applying lotion to your stretch marks, and always making sure that you're feeling comfortable. It was like your daughter could feel when Steve was around because she'd start kicking you like crazy. "We can't wait to see you, baby.","I love you too baby, but you need to let mommy sleep."

Your baby was so loved even before she was born. And so were you during your pregnancy. Steve was by your side every minute of it. He'd cook you the most delicious meals and the sweetest cakes to help your cravings. Steve would make sure that you were drinking enough water, he'd help you to shower, and make you feel beautiful. Hugging you tightly against him, massaging every aching part of your body, and basically not letting you get up from the couch unless you needed to use the bathroom.

Steve would fall asleep with the baby between his arms all the time. Him sitting on the rocking chair next to the baby's crib falling asleep at the same time as your daughter and forgetting to put her in the crib, you going to the room to know why Steve was taking so long just to find that cute scene. Also, him sitting on the couch after work with the little girl peacefully napping on his chest, his arms wrapped around her so she didn't fall. When she was old enough to have a proper bed, he'd lay down with her and hug her against him, tell her a story and she would be sleeping in less than ten minutes. The little girl sighing in her sleep thanks to how comfortable her dad was.

Steve is always so warm, the baby loves being between his arms. When she was a toddler, she would cry her lungs out until Steve picked her up and peppered her small face with kisses while hugging her. At nights, she would sneak into your room and lay between you and Steve, or by your side so you could hug her and Steve could hug you both.

Steve's favorite part of coming home from work is finding his daughter waiting for him to play with her, you'd tell him that he needed to rest, but there's no way he's going to sleep instead of playing with her, he wouldn't care about if he's exhausted. He'd also love when you and her would fall asleep waiting for him. He'd give each of you a kiss and get into bed too.

He loves movie nights with you and her. Steve would rent movies for her all the time. He knows her favorites and he could watch them with her for the entire day, he'd find himself after mumbling the words of the Disney songs. When she was a toddler, Steve would fall asleep during the movie and when you'd shake his shoulders softly to wake him up, he'd say that 'there's no strong plot'. You'd smile at him. 'Of course not baby, it's a movie for children.'

Steve would sit the baby on his lap and try her to say 'daddy'. He could be there for hours, smiling at his daughter when she would try to mumble something similar to what her dad was saying, waving her hands happily and letting her head fall into Steve's chest when she was tired of trying. He'd kiss the top of her head and let her rest before keep trying. "Baby, I need to feed her-" Steve shushed you, and you raised your eyebrows. "She almost got it..." Both of you looked at the baby babbling until she got to say clearly the word 'daddy'. "Yes, yes, yes! That's my girl, well done!" Steve kissed all her little face, making her giggle.

#stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #jonathan byers #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers angst #jonathan byers smut #jonathan byers x reader

[venusjaynie]

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 :(

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

--------------------------------------------------------

i haven't even proof read this but here 🤗

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #stranger things 2 #stranger things #stranger things 3 #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fanfiction

[vilentia]

Tears of Regret

Billy Hargrove x reader

Inspired by this post by @billyhargrovesslut

Billy Hargrove's heart pounded in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He had always been hot-tempered, but this time, he had let his anger consume him completely. He never meant to hurt you—his beloved, the one he was deeply in love with—but in the heat of the moment, his actions had spiraled out of control.

You had been arguing, the tension between you escalating with each word exchanged. A simple disagreement had turned into a raging storm, and Billy had lost control of his emotions. In his fury, he had lashed out, a wild swing of his arm connecting with your shoulder, causing you to stumble back in pain.

The moment he saw the look of fear and pain flash across your face, Billy's heart shattered into a million pieces. His anger evaporated instantly, replaced by a profound sense of regret and guilt. All he wanted was to take back that moment, to rewind time and prevent himself from causing you any harm. But it was too late—the damage was done.

As you flinched away from him, your eyes filled with tears, Billy's world came crashing down around him. He was deeply in love with you, and the thought of hurting you, even unintentionally, was unbearable. He had promised himself he would protect you, cherish you, and now he had failed miserably.

"Y/N," Billy's voice wavered with a mixture of sorrow and desperation. He reached out a trembling hand, desperate to bridge the growing distance between you. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I never wanted to hurt you. Please, believe me."

But you couldn't bring yourself to respond. The pain in your eyes mirrored the pain in his heart, and you took a step back, a silent plea for space and time to process the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. It felt as though your love, once so strong and vibrant, was now crumbling under the weight of your shattered trust.

Tears streamed down Billy's face, his chest heaving with sobs he couldn't control. The realization of his actions crashed upon him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in remorse. He had always struggled to express his emotions, to let others in, but with you, he had found solace—a love that made him vulnerable in ways he had never experienced before.

Now, as he witnessed the anguish etched on your face, he felt like he was losing everything he held dear. The depth of his love for you consumed him, suffocating him with the agony of his own mistakes. He knew he had to give you space, to give you time to heal, but the thought of living without you was unbearable.

"Babe, please," he whispered through choked sobs, his voice raw and broken. "I'll do anything, anything to make this right. I can't lose you. I can't."

But as you turned away, your steps filled with uncertainty, Billy knew that your love, once so vibrant, was now slipping through his fingers like sand. The anguished realization left him feeling utterly alone, drowning in a sea of regrets.

And as he stood there, watching you walk away, his heart shattered into a million more pieces, knowing that he had caused irreparable damage to the one person who meant everything to him. The tears fell freely, his anguished cries echoing in the empty space around him, as he grappled with the painful truth that he might have lost you forever.

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[writethrough]

A Place to Land

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You told Billy you love him. And he knows it's time to break up with you.

Warnings: Minor language (I don't think I use the F word), angst to fluff, insecure Billy, drunk Billy

Word Count: 3495

A/N: I'm actually really proud of this one. I think I fixed what was bugging me about it a few weeks ago. Please let me know what you think! I also recognize this is not one of the requests I have in my ask box. I will get to those, but I am weak to the little gremlins controlling my hyper-fixations.

The day Billy realized he loved you, he knew he had to leave. It was only a matter of time before you broke up with him. He felt it when he woke up from nightmares, and you held him.

He felt it if he wanted to leave a party early because the crowds reminded him of how claustrophobic his mind felt under the Mind Flayer’s influence—he thought your frown was annoyance.

Your look of pity each time he didn’t answer you because he flashed back to that time killed him.

Before the Mind Flayer, he wondered why you agreed to that initial date with him. He was an asshole—so angry at everything. Angry at himself. What did you even see in him?

Your date had to be one of his favorite memories. He took you to see The Goonies, bought popcorn to share, and when he took your chin and turned you to kiss him, you waved him off after the third one. He would’ve been irritated; any other girl and he’d have considered the night a bust, but you were so invested in the screen that he couldn’t help his lips turning up. He wasn’t sure you realized you grabbed his hand at one point in your excitement at the film. Neither of you pulled away until it was over to gather your things. He had thrown an arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. And when you asked if he wanted to go to the diner down the street, a little jump in his stomach made him say “yes.”

It felt…nice…that someone wanted to spend time with him. Maybe he was interesting enough without sex.

He’d never laughed as hard as he did that night. You were funny and kind, sweet and smart—and dammit—the way you smiled at him? You were so goddamn beautiful. He was hooked.

Now, after the Mind Flayer—after he found out this wasn’t your first time dealing with that creature—he knew he loved you. He felt the beginning of it that first night. And that meant you would hurt him. That meant you would leave.

Exactly like his mom had.

But Billy was a coward.

The day he had decided to end it, he kept pushing it back. He had picked you up, and you smiled, and he thought, “Tomorrow.”

You were in the middle of a date, sitting across from one another, and he had imagined that smile turning into a sneer. He had been so close to blurting it out. Then, you giggled and intertwined your fingers with his.

Then, Steve invited everyone over for a BBQ. He had tackled you into the pool, and when you both emerged, you laughed and splashed him. He warned you with the biggest smile, and you started swimming to the other end of the pool.

Billy watched it all. And he felt sick.

It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t angry enough to be jealousy. It was like confirmation. One day, you could have this when you were no longer tied to him. If it was happening now, then it’d happen in the future.

He had to break up with you.

No matter how much it’d kill him.

—

He pulled in front of your house, barely getting out of the car before you were bounding toward him.

You were so excited to see him that you couldn’t even wait for him to reach the door.

He shook his head slightly. He had to do this, had to beat you to the punch.

“Hey, Billy! How are—”

“We need to talk,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

“Oh? What about?” You tilted your head, scanning over his tense posture.

He let out a slow breath. Just rip the bandaid off.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?” Had you heard him correctly?

“I’m breaking up with you,” he repeated, jaw clenched.

You took a tentative step forward.

“Billy, I—what do you mean? Are you okay?”

It didn’t make sense. You were attached at the hip yesterday; Billy couldn’t keep his hands off you, and now he wanted to break up?

What the hell was going on?

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets to hide his whitening knuckles. He didn’t trust himself to not grab hold of you.

“I mean, it’s over. I don’t love you.”

You furrowed your brow, inhaling shakily. “I love you, Billy. I’ve been telling you for weeks now. I know you haven’t said it yet, but that’s okay! I’d never pressure you into—”

He had to cut you off if he was gonna get through this.

“And I’ve realized I don’t love you. What? You gonna make me stay with you?” He wished he could get through this without looking at you, but then you wouldn’t believe him.

You’d be okay. You may hate him now, but you’d move on. And he’d never have to know the pain of you leaving him—of you having an everlasting disdain for him. This hate would only be temporary.

“...You know I won’t,” you whispered. “I’d never force you to do anything.”

He'd had enough of that his entire life.

He nodded. “Then I guess we’re over.”

He turned to walk back to the driver’s side, pulling the door open with more force than needed.

“I don’t believe you.” You managed to get out before he got in.

He stopped. His hand was on the car's roof but didn’t look up.

It gave you a bit of hope.

“I don’t believe that you don’t love me. I see it every time you look at me.” You sniffled. “I know you, Billy. You never would’ve been with me for this long—through all this shit—if you didn’t love me.” You wiped at your tears. “But if this is what you need to do, then I guess you have to do it. And I’ll still love you. That’s never going to change.” You took in a shaky breath. “So, when you’re ready, I’ll be here. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

He didn’t know how you could read his mind. But it had always been like that. You could anticipate what he needed before even he knew.

He wanted to run to you, to scoop you into his arms and apologize, but that nagging in his head wouldn’t stop. The image of you and Steve smiling and laughing. That phone call with his mother—Billy begging her to take him, too.

It felt like you confessed to him just yesterday—that warm feeling in his chest froze over.

You’d leave him eventually. Even if you didn’t think you would, he’d do something to change that. He’d ruin the best relationship he ever had, and then you’d be gone.

He blinked rapidly, getting into his car and speeding away. But not before glancing in his rearview to see the tear tracks streaming down your face.

—

It had been three weeks since Billy broke up with you, and every day your chest seemed to hurt worse. You had spent the first few days hopeful, convincing yourself Billy would be at your door any moment to apologize and explain why he did what he did. It didn’t fully sink in until the fourth day that he was serious.

You had arguments, of course, but Billy was always quick to remedy the situation. He didn’t like when you were angry with him. He said it put a pit in his gut because it reminded him of his anger toward his father. Even if it wasn’t nearly the same thing, Billy still hated the idea that you could ever loathe him that much.

But you didn’t hate him—could never hate him. You just wanted him back, but you didn’t know how to do that. You had called but either gotten Max or nothing at all. You had driven by several times, but Max and Billy weren't home, or he ignored you because—of course—he could tell it was you by your knock.

By week two, you were almost positive you had done something to him. However, you had no idea what. You played through every moment you spent with Billy, and the closest thing you could come up with was that you were a bit clingy. And even when you asked Billy about it, he said he liked it!

That was a few months ago, and he wasn't one to hold his tongue if something bothered him. It was one thing you loved about him. Even though it may come off as harsh—which he was working on—nothing ever festered with him. There was no chance of growing regrets.

You had barely gotten any sleep the past few weeks.

Lying in bed in one of Billy’s shirts, you tried to take your mind off everything with a book when the phone rang.

You sighed but got up to answer anyway. At this hour, it was either Robin or Steve.

“Hello?”

You waited a moment, no one speaking, and then a deep breath came through.

“(Y/N)?”

“Max?” You furrowed your brow. “Is everything okay?”

You’d spoken to her plenty since your break up, but she had never called you after ten. You gripped the phone tighter, ready to listen to anything she had to say, and hoped she was alright.

“I don’t…It’s Billy.” She waited for your response, and when you didn’t give one because of your surprise, she continued, “He’s been drinking a lot since your…since you know…and I’m worried. This is the worst it’s ever been, and I…I don’t know what to do.” She let out a shaky breath. “Can you please come over? I think he needs you.”

Your heart was in your throat. Part of you wanted to refuse. Billy ended things. There was no way he wanted to see you.

But the selfish part of you wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay, to maybe get some answers out of his inebriated state. Even if you didn’t want to hear them. So, you told her you’d be over soon. Not bothering to change, you threw on shorts and shoes and grabbed your keys.

—

You didn’t know what to expect when you arrived. Billy could hold his alcohol, but you didn’t know what frame of mind he was in. The fact that Max called you to begin with set you on edge.

You barely knocked on the door before Max ripped it open.

“Hey.” Her mouth pinched. “He’s in his room. He was…He turned off the music ten minutes ago. I’m not sure what he’s doing.”

You nodded. “...You said he’s been doing this since we…since he—”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what to do anymore,” she said.

You placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll try to figure out what’s going on.”

You weren’t sure if you knocked or not on Billy’s door. The thumping of your heart drowned out the taps.

His slurred “go ‘way, Max” made it nearly stop. Just how long had he been like this?

“It’s me, Billy.”

He opened the door faster than Max, eyes wide as he took you in, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were here.

“(Y/N)?”

The glassiness of his eyes made you want to pull him close and tell him everything would be okay. That whatever was going on in his head, you could face together.

“Is s’tha’ really you?” His knuckles brushed your cheek, testing to see if this was another daydream. And when he made contact, he breathed, “I miss s’you.”

Your nose tingled. “I miss you, too, Billy.”

A singular tear slipped down his face as he cupped yours.

“Hey,” you cooed. “It’s okay.” You wiped it away. “Everything’s okay.”

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m sorry. M'sorry…sorry…”

His shoulders shook, and he could no longer look at you, head hanging low.

You hushed him softly as you led him back into his room and closed the door. His apologies continued until you sat on his bed and pulled his head into your neck.

You brushed through his curls and blinked back your own tears. Never had you seen Billy like this.

He had gotten better at telling you what he felt but still kept a lot to himself. This…This was a sadness you couldn’t handle seeing in him. You wanted nothing more than to take it away—fix it—so you could see that brilliant smile again.

“I lo’you.” He burrowed further into you. “Love you.”

They were quiet confessions, but they held so much conflict.

You were relieved, almost ecstatic, but he was drunk. It might just be because you were here, comforting him.

In any other scenario, you’d be the happiest person alive. However, with every “I love you,” a knife seemed to lodge into your heart.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Everything’s okay. I forgive you.”

He squeezed you tighter in response. All he wanted was to be closer to you. Like that could erase what he had done.

With another kiss, you gently guided him away so you could meet his gaze.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?” You tucked a stray curl behind his ear, and he nodded. It seemed he was content to do whatever you said.

You helped switch his shirt to a clean one and handed him a pair of boxers, covering your eyes when he didn’t hesitate to remove the ones he wore.

“How’s that feel? A little better,” you asked, combing through his hair with your fingers.

He hummed, leaning in.

“Good,” you said. “I’m gonna get you some water and aspirin for tomorrow.”

When you went to pull away, his hand shot up to grip yours.

“Please,” his eyes were near watery, “please, don’t leave me.”

Maybe you were imagining it, but his plea felt like it held so much weight.

He was asking you to stay with him, to sleep beside him so he wouldn’t feel so vulnerable in an already vulnerable state. But it also felt like he was asking you to not walk away from him. That even though he broke up with you, he regretted it. And hoped you would want him back, accept him and all his mistakes. All his flaws.

Either way, the answer was the same.

“I’ll always be right here, Billy.” You squeezed his hand. “You get settled, and I’ll be right back.”

He slowly nodded, letting your hand slip from his.

And when you came back, Billy was on his side, facing the door, a space for you wide open.

Once you got in, he nuzzled into your chest, arms securely around you.

“Love you,” he mumbled, already half asleep.

“Love you, too,” you whispered, heart in your throat.

—

There were three blissful seconds of peace, of the comfort of an arm wrapped around your waist when you woke up. Then last night flooded back.

Billy drunk.

Him crying.

And saying he loved you.

And you had said it back even though you were afraid the next day would bring you more hurt.

He might not remember.

Or worse, he might not have meant it.

Looking up at the peaceful expression on his face pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.

He’d feel like shit today, so the least you could do was make him breakfast and ensure he was alright.

You had managed to switch positions throughout the night. He had held you like always.

You carefully slipped out and into the kitchen. And as you worked, you prepared for the worst.

—

The ache in his chest might’ve been worse than the one in his head. The sun hurt his eyes, and the cold spot beside him bit at his torso.

You had been there.

He couldn’t remember all of last night. But you had been standing outside his door. And the smell of your shampoo clung to his sheets anew. Back where it belonged. The day it had worn off, he had buried his face in his pillow, desperate for one part of you to still be with him.

But you weren’t here anymore.

He swallowed the aspirin, wondering if Max had put it there. Maybe she took pity on him and was making him breakfast.

The bacon made his mouth water. He just hoped she wouldn’t want him to open up about last night. He didn’t want to relive it, especially when you had left before he woke up.

He dragged his feet in the hallway, one hand grazing the wall with the other rubbing his eyes.

He would've plopped down at the table. He would’ve tucked his head in his arms and maybe drifted in and out until Max nudged him. Instead, he stopped and stared.

You were still here.

His heavy steps must have alerted you because you glanced over your shoulder and gave him a small smile.

“Morning,” you said softly.

“Hi,” he said, blinking once, then again.

You motioned for him to sit at the table, and he did without another word.

You hadn’t left him.

After placing some food down, you sat across from him.

He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t even sure he was awake right now. After everything he put you through, you stayed.

His mind was still foggy. Add that to the thoughts racing through it, and he didn’t know where to start. Thankfully, you spoke first.

“I miss you,” you whispered, hands folded atop the table.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I miss you, too.”

Without his notice, his hand had sought yours out, his fingers sneaking underneath to trace your palm. “I miss you so much.”

Your answering squeeze was like a switch—it made things brighter.

“I’m right here,” you said.

He nodded, not even trying to keep the smile at bay.

He believed you. Last night was proof. He was at one of his lowest points, and you had shown up—you had stayed.

Still, the smallest part of him had to hear you say it.

“Promise?” He locked eyes with you, pleading.

You took his hand in both of yours. “I promise,” you said. “I love you.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “I love you, too.”

You brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles, and he could feel your smile against his skin.

He needed you closer.

Tugging at you, he muttered a “come here,” guiding you onto his lap and pushing his nose into your neck, breathing into you. “I love you so much.”

You said it back, running a hand through his messy curls, then trailing your thumbs around his ears down to his jaw, holding him gently so you could kiss him. You wanted to savor every second of this. You had a lot to discuss, but right now? You just wanted to be with him.

His grip tightened as he returned the kiss.

He wanted to apologize again, to tell you how much he regretted what he said. Before he could, you looked at him as if you couldn't get enough.

“As much as I would love to continue kissing you, I’m starving. And you need to eat.”

He laughed, a genuine, full-fledged laugh, something he hadn’t done in weeks.

You tried pushing off his lap, but he wouldn’t let you budge.

“I’m just gonna get my own plate,” you said, giving him a quizzical look.

He shook his head. “Eat off mine.”

And with the contentment and hope on his face, you couldn’t argue. So, you swiped a piece of bacon, taking a bite as he kissed your shoulder.

"This mine?" he asked, pulling at the hem of your shirt.

"Yeah. I've kinda been cycling through all the ones in my closet," you said.

He hummed, a sullen look crossing his features.

"Been wearing your ring," he muttered, fishing out his Saint Christopher to show you the ring hanging on it.

You toyed with both pieces, rubbing your thumb over the face of the original, then set it back to his chest. You pressed your palm against his heart, and he placed his hand over it.

You leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes.

He took a sharp breath, then relaxed.

When you finally looked into his eyes, they held security. He trusted you. And he would continue to trust you with something he didn't trust anyone with.

As you ate, one of your arms stayed around his shoulders, sometimes playing with his hair or rubbing his neck. His stayed firmly around your waist, his fingertips grazing up and down your side, trailing further to your thigh.

It was perfect, this moment. Every laugh Billy brought out of you, every kiss you gave him, every word said; it was all a balm. He wasn’t completely healed, he knew that, but he also knew you.

You had reassured him, given him a place to land when he never thought that place existed. You loved him. And that meant you weren’t going anywhere.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things billy #stranger things billy hargrove #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #billy hargrove x fem!reader

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

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[ashwhowrites]

Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader! Reader, Billy started dating reader 3 months ago, and he found himself jealous everytime someone in the basketball team talked to his girlfriend, he tried to talk to her but she was like, baby they're friends, but Billy didn't like that. They were doing... Activities and someone called to reader's house phone, and Billy found himself angry at that bc it was probably someone from the team. Billy decided to take Reader to Lover's Lake and they spend a good day. But in the week he had to see a lot of boys talking with reader and he went where he never thought, he went to Max for help and she was like don't be dumb, she's your girlfriend (maybe Billy realizes that he's been dumb and apologizes for his actions?)

I miss writing for Billy! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Max?

Billy never saw himself as a jealous person. He knew he was attractive and could get anyone he wanted. If Billy and jealousy were mentioned in the same sentence, it was that someone was jealous of him. He had full confidence in himself and he reminded everyone of that.

But now, he was breathing hard as he watched his "teammates" talk to his girlfriend. The game finished and everyone celebrated. Billy figured he'd be celebrating with his girlfriend in the backseat of his Camaro. Instead, she congratulations Steve Harrington with a bright smile.

Billy yanked off his jersey, using the material to dab off the sweat on his face. He grabbed his bag and threw it on his shoulder. His sneakers squeaked against the gym floor as he walked up to them. He didn't care that they were in the middle of a conversation, he grabbed Y/N's arm and spun her around. Before she could say a word, his tongue was in her mouth. His hands cupped her ass and shoved her against his sweaty body. She moaned as she felt his hard abs under her hands.

Billy opened his eyes to see Steve walking away. Billy smirked into the kiss as he gave Y/N a slap on the ass when Steve looked back.

"Fuck Billy." Y/N quietly moaned against his mouth. Her knees felt weak and she could feel how soaked she was underneath her skirt.

"Shall we celebrate?"

~~~

"Fuck your mouth is so good," Y/N whined, her hands in Billy's curls as his tongue worked inside her cunt. Billy was good at sex, which was well-known. But his oral sex was just as mind-blowing.

She was near orgasm when the phone near her bed rang. She swore Billy's tongue moved faster when she reached for the phone.

"One sec." She said, her eyes meeting Billy's sweet blue as she pushed his head away. He growled but listened. A snarl on his face as she answered the call. He figured it would be one of her friends from the squad but he heard a male voice on the other end.

He moved off her bed and snatched his jacket.

"Where are you going?" She whispered, the other line busy with talking. Billy rolled his eyes.

"Home." He snapped and slammed her bedroom door.

~~~

Billy knew his actions weren't the best, and leaving her there vulnerable wasn't appropriate. But he also didn't feel like he needed to apologize for his behavior....with words.

Instead, they headed up to Lovels Lake, no phones or any way for her attention to be taken elsewhere. The day was romantic and sweet. They had a picnic, went swimming, and made out in the back of his car. She was only focused on him and he loved it. He thought maybe things would stay this way once the weekend was over and they went back to school.

But the second Monday arrived and she jumped out of his car, boys came swarming in to talk to her about their weekends. Billy kept his arm around her but glared at every boy that spoke. He couldn't help the anger that took over. He grabbed Y/N more intensely than he intended, yanking her away from the group as he marched into the building.

"BILLY!" she snapped, the anger in her voice caused Billy to stop in his tracks. He dropped her arm and felt a rush of guilt when he saw the marks he left.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Her arm didn't hurt as bad as it looked. She knew Billy would spiral into a panic about his mark on her, but she felt safe with him and knew he'd never hurt her. "It doesn't hurt. Now tell me what's wrong."

Once Billy felt the relief she wasn't hurt, he tried to focus on why he was so upset. He grabbed her hand gently and kissed her arm. His lips are delicate against the marks he left. He pulled back but kept her hand in his.

"I'm sick of all these guys talking to you! You're my girlfriend! Even our private time gets invaded by those thirsty wolves. They want to fuck you and I can't believe you just let it happen!" Billy said, his anger in the driver's seat as he let anything come out of his mouth.

"Let it happen?" Y/N scoffed, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that when I was talking with my FRIENDS, I had their dick in my mouth. Thanks for thinking I'm a total slut."

"That's not what I said! Don't put words in my mouth." Billy argued.

"But it's what you insinuating, isn't it? What have I let happen? A simple conversation with my friends. If you can sit here and have the nerve to think I'd ever cheat on you, then you aren't the boyfriend I thought you were. Call me when you get your head out of your ass." She said, turning on her heel. She couldn't believe the way he was acting. She's been loyal, she shut down any advances anyone sent her way. Those guys were her friends and never wanted anything more. Why couldn't he see that?

~~~

Max knew something was instantly wrong when Billy came home, without Y/N, and slammed his bedroom door shut.

Weirdly enough, Billy changed for the better with Y/N around. He seemed happier and got into fewer fights with the family. He almost became an actual brother to Max. And she felt a weird sense of comfort from it.

When Billy was in a mood, Max learned to keep her door shut and not bother being in the same room as him. She assumed it was a fight with Y/N since he was pissed off alone. Another thing Max loved about Y/N, she knew exactly how to keep Billy calm. Ever since her, Billy hasn't made a scene.

Max tried to focus on her comic book as Billy's music blasted through the small house. She rolled her eyes as the small trophies on her dresser began to shake. Her skateboard slammed on the ground as the walls shook. She slammed down her comic, yanking her door open with venom on her tongue. But froze when Billy was already outside her door.

"Can I talk to you?" Max wasn't sure if she should be as scared as she was. Billy never asked to talk. He only talked his feelings out with Y/N. And she couldn't blame him. She also talked her feelings out with Y/N all the time. She had a sense of warmth and a shoulder that was always ready to be leaned on. She brought the deepest emotion out of everyone. She was safe.

"Turn off the music first," Max said, leaving her door open as she sat on her bed. She sighed in relief when the music stopped and she could hear her thoughts again.

"Y/N?" She asked, a knowing look in her eye. She could see Billy's body deflate and a painful look in his eye.

"I fucked up, and like really fucked up." Billy sighed, his fingers picking at the strands of Max's blanket. She was quick to slap his hand.

"What did you do?"

"I keep getting jealous, and when I do I act like an idiot. In some form of words, I kinda made it sound like I couldn't trust her. Which I do! I know she wouldn't cheat on me, but the fear of her finding someone better is so real. Every guy she talks to is better than me. You know? They don't have these anger issues or daddy problems, and they have money. I look worthless next to them." Billy explained. He felt his throat burn and an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

"Billy, listen to what you just said. You think all those guys are better than you, if she thought that why would she be with you? Why would she continue to pick you every time those guys flirt with her? Who cares if they want her, she wants you. Stop being a dumbass and fucking it up. Grossly, girls love you. I'm sure she gets jealous too when those sluts try to hook up with you. But she knows you are hers so she doesn't take it out on you. Don't do that to her. You already have her, you are better than them. And those issues? Not deal breakers for her so quit using it as an excuse to be an asshole. Go apologize, buy her chocolate, and love her." Max said, finishing her rant as she snatched her comic book back open.

Billy smiled and patted her head. He knew what he had to do.

~~~

Y/N blew on her nails as she hummed quietly to the music on her radio. She sighed as another hour passed and no word from Billy. She didn't want to break up, but maybe he did. Maybe he's been wanting to break up and using his outbursts as an excuse.

Her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on her window. She smiled as she saw Billy there. Then she quickly remembered she was supposed to be mad at him. She frowned as she walked over to open the window.

He wore a hoodie and sweatpants. His curly hair blew in the wind, and his scent of cigarettes filled her nose.

"I'm sorry. I know I've been an idiot and everything in between. I was a dick to you and you don't deserve that. I got insecure and jealous, and instead of communicating that, I lashed out at you. I trust you, I trust you more than anyone. I'm grateful to have someone as amazing as you to love me and I need to stop fucking it up. I even talked to Max, who will probably murder me if I lose you." Billy chuckled, and Y/N giggled herself.

"Max huh? Must have been desperate to run to your little sister." She teased, Billy smiled, he knew it was a way of her forgiving him.

"Thank you for apologizing. You have been a dick, but I love you anyway. Thank you for taking responsibility. I'm proud of you." She said, leaning over to peck his lips. Billy smiled into the kiss as he kissed her back.

Billy pulled away and handed over the chocolates. Y/N smiled and placed them on her desk. Then she grabbed his hand and brought him inside.

"Now why don't you take that jealousy out in a different way." Y/N winked, her tone seductive as she tugged on his hoodie.

"Gladly."

#billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x cheerleader! reader #billy hargrove angst x reader #billy Hargrove angst #ashwhowrites #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove x female reader

[billlydear]

Touch starved Billy Hargrove ✨a concept✨

HC - TOUCH STARVED BILLY HARGROVE

W.C 1680 - INBOX (please request !) - CREDIT TO GIF OWNER

mmm not touch starved billy, love starved billy. he gets plenty of skin-on-skin. a backhand or a shove from his dad, a quick fuck in the backseat of his car, hell, why do you think he takes his shirt off to play basketball, a contact sport? he wants to feel touch, he's just never been given a kind one.

and that's where you come in :) from the very first date you're already shyly reaching for his hand, slipping your fingers between his over the vinyl table of the small diner you're eating at

you watch carefully for his reaction, and he's not really able to hide his shock, he kind of goes stiff. so you're worried you've overstepped, and you start to draw back with an awkward apology, but just before you can pull your hand away completely, he tightens his grip, and squeezes your hand, holding it in place.

“Don’t apologize.” Normally that would be said in a teasing, lighthearted tone. But instead his face is strangely intense, eyes shining under the low lights of the diner.

then it escalates from hand holding to a hug. He drops you off at your front step, and instead of just staying in the car, he walks you up. It’s a pretty cliched first kiss scene, you tell him you had a good time and he agrees with a dazzling smile. There’s a slow, heart-racing lean-in, hitched breath and an eager shine in your eyes, and then he kisses you so soft, you’re not even sure he’s there. He’s not really about special first kisses, preferring to tongue a girl behind the gym. But when your hand comes up to press gently, softly against his cheek, he knows he’s addicted to kindness, soaking it up like a sponge and letting the excess compel him to hold your waist.

he’s not handsy like he normally would be, he keeps his hands firmly planted there while you kiss. It’s soft, slow, sweet, and it feels like waking from a daydream as his pretty blue eyes flutter open to stare into yours.

“Goodnight, Billy.” You whisper, and he’s a goner.

there’s tenderness in your voice, your touch, your gaze, and he lays awake that night thinking about it. It warms him up, knowing that you’d treated him like you care. Maybe you do, maybe you dont, but the feeling is intoxicating, and he doesn’t feel as perpetually angry at the world that night

max notices a change after that. Neil shouts at him, tells him he’s good for nothing, weak, disappointing, and instead of slamming his door and blasting music, probably kicking the bed frame, he offers her a ride to the arcade.

"What?" / "A ride, dipshit, I'm going out and I'll drop you on the way."

and the most insane part, he doesn't even bitch at her in the car. she sits silently and so does he, and when she gets out, he says he'll get her at 8. no threats, no name-calling, just 'i'll pick you up at 8'.

when she gets in the car at 8:10, she's absolutely certain she'll be griped at for being late. but he backs out of the spot, and even asks her about the slap bracelet she'd won inside.

"You get that in there?'"/ "Yeah. I had enough tickets so..." / "What?"

She squints hard at his face while they're stopped at a light, and his own face scrunches in displeasure, "What is it?"

"Are you wearing chapstick?"

The light turns green, and he punches it hard, only remembering to slow down as he pulls his lips between his teeth to lick them. she doesn't ask again, but she spots a tube of it on the ground, strawberry flavored, and definitely not hers.

billy had taken you to the drive-in, and apparently it had fallen out of your pocket when you'd leaned over the center to kiss him. he brought it back to you the next day, knocking at your door and greeting your mother who surprisingly loved him. he wasn't really sure how to react to that, because no girl's mother has ever liked him before, but he's welcomed in and finds you in your room, folding laundry.

he spends the entire day with you, a saturday, just being with you. you teach him how to fold laundry your way, and he definitely teases you about the bras and underwear he finds. in retaliation you whack him with a pillow, and he pretends to be greatly injured after the attack, sprawled out over your bed with his tongue out in a cartoonish display of death

you straddle his waist, peering down at his minutely-fluttering eyelashes. you take his face in your hands, gently, sweetly, and turn it to face you, watching as his pretty blue eyes make a reappearance. he's staring at you, and he looks almost nervous, but he could easily push you off it he wanted to, and he doesn't, so you take that as a good sign.

you trace his features, fingers grazing over the tip of his nose and down through the crease of his chin, just below his lips. then beneath his eyes, along his cheekbones, and smoothing over his forehead. he watches you breathlessly the entire time, a thin layer of tears glossing over his eyes.

when you notice them you stop, nervous that you'd upset him. you ask him what's wrong, hovering over his face only inches away

"I love you." He murmurs, reaching up to cup your cheek.

it's breathless, it's passionate, and it's.. a little early. but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. he's just quicker to figure out when he loves someone 'cause he doesn't very often, so it's a new feeling that sticks out to him.

now that he's said it for the first time, watch out.

he's gonna say it 24/7, any opportunity. you hand him a chip? he leans over to bite it out of your hand and goes 'I love you'. he hands you a chip? when you reach for it he'll hold it out of your reach, wait 'till you look at him like wtf? and then say 'love you' with that shit-eating grin of his

he clings to you. his hand is always somewhere on your body, whether it be prying at your own and pulling it into his lap or laying around your shoulders, pressing your sides together

play. with. his. hair. seriously, scratch your nails through his hair, he'll purr like a kitten. brush it out right before his shower, give him a little head massage, that way you can mess up the curls and he'll just reform 'em. comb through it, braid it, put serums and products in it, anything as long as you're touching his scalp

i think he'd really appreciate forehead/cheek/nose kisses, of course he appreciates them on the lips too but it's different, casually intimate and sweet. he's addicted to kissing your cheek, he'll be walking beside you in the mall and yank you closer by where his arm is laid around your hip just to press his lips to your cheek

he kisses your forehead in bed, tugs you into his chest and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. he might not even lean back up, he might just fall asleep with his face pressed to yours

he's.. obsessed with kissing. like, your lips are constantly swollen. of course he's game for a good steamy makeout session but mostly it's just lazy, slow, soft, sweet kisses, just laying together and swapping spit and touching each other, your leg thrown over his, your foreheads bumping together, his hand on your stomach

speaking of, he'll sleep with his hand under your shirt most nights, either flat and warm against your back or your stomach. and if you ever sneak your hand up his shirt to scratch up his back, he shivers. fully body shivers.

he loves loves loves it when you hold him in your sleep, sometimes he stays awake while you drift off just to watch you get comfy and unconsciously snuggle into his warmth. The first time you do it is while you’re watching a movie on your couch and he misses the last half of the film because he’s just watching you sleep peacefully all snuggled into him

he’s not only grateful that you’re his safe space, but he’s amazed that he seems to be your own. he’s never had a safe space before, even when his mama was around Neil was too. so being with someone he loves without any fear or anxiety is very meaningful to him. It means that when you pass out on his shoulder at the drive-in or let him cart you around to parties just as long as he keeps his arm around you the entire time, he recognizes that you feel safe with him, and that means more to him than he’ll ever be able to express

it’s why he takes such good care of you, he doesn’t ever want to let you down or be someone who fails you. the movie’s too loud and you’re starting to wake? he doesn’t need to see the end of it, the two mcs probably get together. he’ll just drive quietly and slowly back home and let you snooze in the parking lot. party getting too wild? he’ll take you out into the backyard and sit on the porch swing with you, smoke a cig and blow it away from you, let your head fall onto his shoulder with his arm around your waist.

your touch grounds him. he feels safe, secure, loved, supported, happy, and content all at once when he’s touching you, even if he’s just knocking his foot into yours from under the lunch table.

Billy may get touched a lot, but not loved, so when you come into his life, a beacon of all things sweet, he’s going to bask in it, soaking up your love like a big sappy sponge and letting it heal his wounds

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