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hippielittlemetalhead · 8 months

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So season 3. Let's do this!

This took so so so long and is not quite where/what I wanted it to be soooo... I am so sorry 😅🥲 this will most likely be 2 parts cause... Yeah, just life man.

Actually some dialogue in this one? Sure, a line or two, as a treat.

(Part1) (part2)

Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for a few weeks now and he feels like he's built a decent rapport with his coworker Robin. She's witty and snarky and opinionated and when Steve wears a more tinted lipgloss than he intended resulting in a customer clocking it and saying something rude that he can't help but smile his dead-eyed customer service smile at, she clocks out for her lunch early (and takes an extra 15 minutes) and comes back with a full face of makeup and shoos him into the back with the mascara she bought from the shop a couple stores over. They both start coming to work with at least mascara, eyeliner and lipstick and Steve loves it. He compliments the hand-drawn designs on her shoes and she asks where he got his rainbow heart pin. They mostly disagree on music they listen to -she still lets him drag her to a couple live music nights at The Hideout with him and Billy every now and then anyway- but their politics and basic life philosophies line up pretty well.

He could do without the 'You Rule / You Suck' board, especially when Billy gets in on it and adds tallies from a little notebook he starts keeping when he and Steve hang out outside of kids and work. And the jokes about his kids (and occasionally Billy) when they come through for free passage to the movies. And the jabs about his parents' money like he still has access to that or their house.

He doesn't tell her that he was cut off and disowned and kicked out. He doesn't tell her that he had to get a job to help pay for his community college courses because he was a disappointment that couldn't get into a pre-approved 4-year university and that meant no college fund and he was still a few years away from being 21 and having access to the trust fund his grandparents set up for him when he was still just a lump of forming cells. And even then anything in that will probably be blown on buying himself his own permanent place instead of just a hand-me-down trailer in the middle of the woods so he needs to save for things like bills and a mortgage.

He doesn't tell her that the reason he lets the kids get away with so much is because they're *his* and they've already seen more fucked up shit than the cops in this town (save Hop) and he'll be damned if they don't get to just be kids. He'll be damned if they decide he's someone they need to hide from and sneak around like they hide and sneak from Joyce and Hop cause that's how they didn't know about half the shit the kids got up to while the adults were doing their best to take care of things themselves. He doesn't tell her that he's paying "rent" to the chief of police (it's way less than he should be but it's all Hop would take).

He doesn't tell Robin a lot of things.

Then sometime after Robin finally warmed up to him but before Dustin comes back from camp, Eddie Munson walks into Scoops Ahoy, his metalhead nerdy entourage in tow. He orders a plain scoop of vanilla with sprinkles in a cup and one of the others also orders something small and simple (while longingly eyeing their diabetes-inducing, horribly artificial tasting, bubblegum flavor when Munson turns away) before all of them are squeezing into one of the largest booths, emptying out messenger bags and backpacks of overstuffed binders and scuffed up versions of very familiar looking textbooks. It's like looking at an older -slightly grungier- version of his kids.

"Gentlemen, now that 🎶school's out for summer🎶-" There's a musical lilt as he says it that sounds vaguely familiar to Steve, "-and it has been confirmed that I will in fact be held captive for yet another stint in the hell they call Hawkins High School it is time we confer and conspire for the next year of Hellfire and the little sheep that will be joining our flock." He kinda loses track of it after that because then his kids are rushing in demanding tasters of everything and edging towards the lifting part of the counter with a look in their eyes that speaks of mischief. He puts up the initial fuss about them only visiting him for his backrooms access and that they promised to only come over when there were no customers around. He lets them through anyway.

He notices Munson eyeing him as he puts the partition back in place shaking his head and Robin laughing at him as she washed their ice cream scoops. The one that's vaguely more familiar looking than the rest and reminds him of a taller, angrier, Dustin with a better hair regimen isn't quite glaring at him but is definitely paying more attention than the rest of Munson's posse and seems more suspicious than Eddie's curious.

The metalheads are still there when Billy shows up stinking of chlorine in clothes that are damp where they cling to his frame. The group loosens up a little when he shoots Steve his signature smug smirk as he shrugs on his denim jacket that -like Steve's own jacket hanging out of sight in the staffroom- had begun accumulating patches and pins since Neil's incarceration. Unlike Steve's, Billy's has homages to bands like Mötley Crue, Deff Leppard, Twisted Sister and Guns N' Roses with little trails of shakily embroidered flowers and constellations on the collar and hems and filling the spaces between the patches and pins. Billy also has a small pink triangle on the lapel where Steve has a rainbow. Steve pretends not to notice the way the group goes a little quiet as Billy starts his usual routine of sunnily demanding tasters of all the available flavors and then again with sprinkles to "-really get an idea of their ✨nuance✨, prettyboy" before deciding on a scoop of double chocolate with a scoop of raspberry vanilla in a cup with sprinkles and one of their fresh waffle cones on top. Like always.

"Really branching out there aren't ya, tough guy?" Steve keeps his face as stoney as possible but he can't help the humored edge to his voice.

Billy just winks at him running his tongue over his teeth as he gives Steve an exaggerated leer, "Gotta keep you on your toes, handsome." Robin fake gags and Steve laughs and Eddie Munson turns red as he stares at the two joking jocks. Billy goes quiet as he stares at his ice cream and Steve recognizes the look on his face, tells the blonde to go sit down in their usual booth and he'd be taking his break soon and they can talk about whatever's bothering him.

What's bothering him is Neill getting parole for 'good behavior', Jim only telling the Mayfield-Hargroves almost a week after he was let out because that was actually the same day he himself found out. Billy found out just before a summer basketball practice session and thinks he snapped at an underclassmen he's been trying to get to open up about what Billy is 90% certain is going on in the kid's home, but he knows that cops can't do much if the victim(s) refuse to trust in those trying to help them. He's worried about the kid he snapped at. Worried about Susan and Max. Worried that even with the restraining order Neill will try something. Billy tells Steve he had thought he saw Neill around the outskirts of town during errands or during his turn to haul the kids around a couple of times before Hop told them and now he's sure it wasn't just paranoia. Steve tells him they'll figure it out, reminds him he's not alone in this

That makes Billy smile, small and tired but real and grateful. His shoulders are still tense and there's still a wariness in the smallest crease between his eyebrows that makes Steve ask if there's anything else. They talk about some of the weird dreams Billy's been having that makes Steve encourage him to talk to El. Just to make sure Billy isn't going through what happened to Will the last alternate-dimension-go-around.

They make plans to head out to see the two Hoppers after Steve's shift. Come up with a basic timeline of when and where Billy thinks he saw Neil so they have something to start with for Hop. Put together an idea of how involved Billy wants to be in whatever plan Hop comes up with. They're interrupted by a group of girls swanning into the shop and Steve being yelled at by Robin to get himself back to work. As he gets up from the table Steve levels Billy with a look that makes the blond think about the way Max and the kids described Steve when they talked about how he fought off the pack of demodogs in the junkyard, planting himself between them and snarling snapping danger like Galahad himself.

Steve looks him in the eyes and says "I swear Billy, we're going to get through this, we'll take care of it and keep you and the girls safe. Hop knows what's going on and even Callahan can't get away with letting that piece of shit fall through the cracks after what he pulled." He leans in close and bites out probably louder than he should for the amount of people in the shop, "And if that fucker gets near any of you I've got Darling in Baby's trunk and I am not afraid to use her on a human shaped monster instead."

Author's (rambler's) Notes:

So, that's all I have for season 3 rn I am so sorry. 😭 I'm working on the next bit but I am so burnt out recently and now I'm unemployed cause of the ceiling at my job caving in which does not help the stress. So I unfortunately do not have a timeframe for you. 🥲 A couple of folks asked to be tagged so... Here you are? To be fair I'm not making any promises in regards to the taglist in the future, I will do my damnedest and y'all will have to bear with me.

I'm glad people are liking this and tbh this has gotten more attention than I expected so thanks? I appreciate the appreciation of my ramblings. Feel free to scream at/with me about this au in my asks box and I'll respond when/as I can. I'm just glad people are enjoying this. 🙃

@heartsong18

@knightofthieves

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prettybillycore · 2 years

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You Are Not a Burden, Billy Hargrove || Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader

Pairing(s): Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader

Universe: Stranger Things

Summary: After moving in with you, Billy has good days and bad days with his mental health. You were there for him in one of his darkest moments.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Neil Hargrove is his own warning, Billy's Anger issues, Mental Health Breakdown (Billy's), swearing, Police

Read it on ao3 (or on this Tumblr post below the cut)

Part of your deal with Billy was that he had to work on bettering himself. You told him from the beginning of your blossoming relationship– be nice to me and the kids and Steve or our relationship can’t continue. I know you’re still learning and I can see that you are trying, but respect is one of the most important things in relationships like this.

Billy had never been in a relationship; this fact surprised you at first, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. It broke your heart a little inside knowing that he had never been shown gentle kindness and love. You were willing to give him the safe space he needed to heal and he knew that too. You said as long as he was trying to get better you would be there to support him and that was more than anyone else had ever done for him. I’ll do my best, Doll. I promise. I know I’ll have bad days, but I’m gonna do everything I can to get the anger out in better ways.

You brushed your hand across his cheek and smiled up at him. He had never seen someone look at him with so much pure adoration. It made him feel fragile. All I ask for is that you’re trying. I love you, Billy Hargrove.

He set his hands lightly on your hips. I love you too.

| < ♥️ > |

Billy had more good days than bad this summer and you were so thankful for that. You loved him dearly– he was protective of you, always brought you flowers on date night, and wouldn’t let you open or close your own car door. He essentially worshipped the ground you walked on most days and you felt so loved. The party and your friends were all starting to accept that Billy was treating you like a god(dess). They didn’t always love that he was hanging around, but they respected your relationship. It was enough for you to feel comfortable. Billy was making progress on being generally nicer to the soon-to-be freshman and he treated Steve was respect every time he saw him. It made your heart swell.

There were still bad times, though. Mostly now they consisted of panic more than rage. Billy was staying at your house all the time and Max stayed in your guestroom whenever she felt like she needed to get out of the Hargrove-Mayfield household. Billy would receive angry and threatening calls from his father sometimes. He would scream into the phone until you gently placed your hand on his shoulder and he hung up the phone. You two would curl up on his bed and you would let him sob into the crook of your neck. He held onto you like nothing you had ever experienced before; like if he let you go, you would evaporate. You would hum simple songs and play with his hair until you both fell asleep.

This bad day wasn’t like those bad days, unfortunately. You walked into the house after dropping the Party off at the Wheelers’ place, and Billy was fuming. Much like Steve’s parents, your parents weren’t around much. Billy was just alone, just pacing around and mumbling to himself. You could see how angry he was in his body language. You closed the door behind you, “Billy, Love, are you alright?”

His nostrils flared, but he didn’t stop pacing. “Do I look fucking alright to you, y/n?”

You kept your temperament even and you were so glad that Max was off at the mall with the Party right now. “What happened?”

“Fucking Neil! Ugly bastard called the cops on me.”

“What? Did the cops come here?” You had only been gone for like an hour; you picked up all the members of the Party and drove them to Starcourt.

“Just Hopper, thank fuck. He said he recognized your name from when Neil called the station. He came to check on everything and told me he would handle Neil, but fuck! Why can’t he just leave me alone? I’m completely fucking moved out at this point. I live here with you and I’m not a fuckin’ burden to him anymore,” he seethed. His teeth were clenched together so tightly you were worried they would break.

“I’m so sorry, Billy. You handled it well; let’s get you a drink and sit down for a minute. I’m worried about you,” you said. You started to reach your hand out toward him, but he pulled back and glared at you.

“Don’t treat me like a child. I know I’m a burden to you too. You don’t have to pretend to care about me.”

You were dumbfounded. “What? Billy, you are not a burden to me. You never have been and never will be. Your brain is just saying that because you’re raging. You’ll be okay, I promise you’re safe here.” It was the first time those words had ever come out of his mouth. You couldn’t bare the thought of him considering himself a burden to you. “Honey Love, you are the most important person in my life. Your mental health doesn’t make you a burden, it makes you human.”

Normally, when you said things like that, he would go soft. He would fall into your arms and you will hold him until he was ready to talk about what was going on in his brain. Again, today was different than usual. He had really gotten into his own head while you were gone. “Stop lying to me, you fucking bitch! You don’t care about me! No one–”

“God I hate you sometimes. I hate your brain sometimes, fuck!” You cut him off with your cursing. His near-constant pacing stopped as you put your hands over your eyes. “I wish I could take away your pain. I wish I could take your trauma and lock it away and throw the key into the fucking ocean, but I can’t! I don’t know how to help you when your rage transfers to me. I know you aren’t really mad at me, but fuck it hurts…” Your hands were becoming damp with your own tears.

“Baby…” Billy mumbled. His raging monster inside had been shut up with those sentences. The guilt was crawling up his spine and made him feel like he was going to be sick. He wanted to talk to you about feeling burdensome, but not like this. This broke everything in him. His one promise to himself was to not hurt you; he never wanted to hurt you. You told him that was unrealistic because he’s human and we are all capable of hurting people, but he still told himself not to hurt you. He couldn’t believe that he had let those words come out of his mouth. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m pissed at Neil, not you. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You pulled your hands away from your face and he was standing still a little ways away from you. He looked absolutely horrified and you were sure that he was thinking all kinds of self-hating thoughts right now. You wiped your eyes and walked over to him with open arms. He hugged you back quickly and tightly. “I know, Love. You’re still going through things with Neil and there are still going to be bad days.”

“I never want to make you upset though… Fuck…” His face was hidden in your hair. You could feel him trembling. “I don’t want you to leave me, but I understand if you want to.”

You squeezed him tighter. “Absolutely fucking not. Even when things happen and we fight or you slip up, I know you’re trying to get through your pain. You’re starting to heal and I’m not going anywhere. You are not a burden, Billy Hargrove; not to me or anyone else. You are a human who’s got some growing to do... And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did either.”

“It's alright... I love you… so fuckin’ much,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Billy.”

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alice-the-brave · 1 year

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“I don’t know,” she hums, licking at a stray drop of melted ice cream running down her hand, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it seems like you want to see Steve.”

He pauses, bottle halfway to his lips, still staring down the road. He turns slowly, stares at the side of her head where she’s intent on her ice cream, innocent and unbothered. Pretending she didn’t say something that even just a few months ago would have turned this all ugly. Still might.

“Good thing you do know better,” he says, voice low and warning.

She frowns at her ice cream, glances up at him, something defiant and stubborn in her eyes.

“You’re allowed to be friends with him, you know.”

He flinches at the weight of her gaze, at the knowing look in her eyes.

It had been her fault they’d moved. Because Dad hadn’t liked her dad being so close. Hadn’t liked another man having any kind of claim on his wife, or his daughter. But also because Max had always been too smart. Had always seen Billy a little too clearly. She had looked at him, and the people he hung around, the company he kept and had asked questions. Had asked Susan. Susan, who as always, had asked his Dad.

Neil Hargrove hadn’t ever made a habit of asking Billy anything.

“I don’t need you to tell me what I’m allowed,” He spits, slamming the bottle down on the roof of the car hard enough that she jumps, eyes wide and surprised, as if she’d forgotten what he was like, “You need to learn to mind your fucking business or I swear to God, Max, you’re going to regret it.”

“You think I don’t?”

That draws him up short.

“What?”

“You think I don’t know that half the reason your dad moved us out here was because of what I said?” She aska, crunching the ice cream in her hand into sad, wet crumbs on the gravel. “I didn’t think – I mean. I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know he’d – that he’d do that. Any of it.”

She doesn’t look at him as she says it, turns to frown at the gravel below them, like the dirt can hide the way she looks afraid.

It had been the first time Max had really seen how bad his Dad could be. She’d seen him scold Billy before, seen him threaten things, seen him slap him upside the head or push him around. But until then he’d been careful to never really let her see how bad it could get.

But that night, Max had seen it all. That night, Neil had been so incensed by the very idea of what she had inadvertently implied about his son, that he’d forgotten to pretend to be a decent fucking person.

Billy remembers, vaguely, hearing her crying, hearing her yelling something, and Susan dragging her away. He remembers her face in the waiting room of the hospital, the pale, wide-eyed look she’d given him. The way she flinched away from not only Neil but Susan too.

“I didn’t think mom would say anything to him about it,” she says, fists clenching in her pasty freckled lap, “I didn’t think she’d let him do it.”

He stares at her for a moment. Tries to think past the rushing of his blood, the immediate anger in his gut.

“Which part?” He asks, and she turns to him quickly, brow furrowed. “You didn’t think she’d let him do which part?”

“I didn’t think-” she stalls out, looks away, clenches her sticky hands on her thighs. “I didn’t think she’d let him hurt you like that.”

He stares at her, baffled.

It had never occurred to him that Susan might try to stop him.

She tried to diffuse things, sure, tried to head off arguments before they got past stern words and threats, but Billy had always thought she just wanted to avoid the ordeal of it all. Thought that she was scared of breaking her façade of peace.

He had never expected her to really step in. He’d only ever wondered at her staunch witness to it all. Her refusal to walk away, even as she stood in the corner like a pale-faced wraith, unmoving unless it was to get Maxine out of the room.

He'd never expected her to step between Billy and his Dad, never expected her to speak against a single thing that he decided to do.

Neil Hargrove got what he wanted, always.

But for the first time it occurs to him what that must have looked like to Max.

Billy’s Mom was the only good thing he’d ever had in this life. She’d tried to defend him from his Dad, tried to stand against him. She’d bit and spit and screamed and hadn’t let him get away with it, not without a fight.

She’d been his only defense. Right up until the day she left.

Max had Susan, who had been her confidant, her safe place. He remembers the way Max used to hide behind her when Neil came around, remembers the way she would tug at her hand and whisper.

He doesn’t remember when she stopped.

Can’t pinpoint the day she realized her mother wasn’t safe. That she wouldn’t protect her from Neil, wouldn’t keep her secrets, wouldn’t fight for her. Susan never bit back, she never screamed in defiance. She never shielded Max with her own body, never told a soul what happened behind closed doors. She had thrown away both of their lives and torn Max away from the only people who could have saved her from the prison they all lived in.

Which is worse, he wonders, staring at her glassy blue eyes, tears all dried up. Which is worse, really, being abandoned and left to the wolves, or being abandoned and having her stick around to watch you die?

He at least could pretend that his Mom might come back for him, that she was bidding her time, that she hurt as much as he did. When he was small and angry and terrified he could pretend that she had made a mistake, that she hadn’t meant it.

Max had to stare Susan in the face every day and reckon with her betrayal. She didn’t get to pretend.

“You never think,” he says, turning away, staring up at the cliffs again.

The birds are loud here, the forest alive in a way that belies the ominous air it exudes at night. Here, in the sun and the chirping of birds, the rustling trees and animals seem serene. It’s enough to make the midnight gloom of it seem like a dream. Enough to make the memory of Harrington standing in the shadows holding a bat caked in dried blood seem false, imagined. Enough to make the memory of Maxine, trembling and fierce and drowned in the blood of his Father seem like a hallucination. Like the strange, dark dreams he has on fever nights, when the sickness and the broken bones stir dark things in his sleeping mind. Impossible things. Things that make him shake and shiver with fear, with horror. It doesn’t seem possible. Seems like a nightmare. She’s getting sunburnt, sitting there on his car, hair up in a scrunchy, wearing his sunglasses. Her hands are sticky with ice cream. Little girl hands. Like they ought to be.

“Sorry.” She clenches her hands in her lap, fiddles with the hem of her shorts.

He stares at her for another moment. Breathes. Thinks. Doesn’t let himself spit and snarl, though the urge to is choking him.

How many times are they going to do this? Wander in circles, biting and snapping and begging for forgiveness, back and forth, forever. He thinks it might drive him crazy. That they can’t just get past it all, that even though his Dad is gone – even though they aren’t going to have to step on each other just to breathe the clean air anymore – there’s still so much rot between them. He wonders why she bothers. Thinks, maybe, that she won’t leave, no matter how vicious he is, just because she’s just as bad. Just because she’s never known when to drop it. Never thought anything through.

Mad Max, the daredevil, fearless and headstrong and going nowhere fast.

“Put on your sunscreen,” he says, instead of any of that, reaching into the passenger seat through the open window and tossing the bottle at her.

She catches it clumsily and tosses back the bitchiest look a fourteen-year-old can muster.

“You sound like Steve,” she sneers, not as harsh as she usually might.

Like she’s still testing the waters.

He snorts and snatches his sunglasses off her face, slipping them on and leaning back against the car as if he’d never gone tense in the first place.

“Fine, get burnt for all I care, just don’t bitch at me about it later.”

She huffs and rolls her eyes, but she opens the tube without a word and he can see the edge of a smile on her face even though he isn’t looking.

#max mayfield #billy hargrove #stranger things #ficlet #in my ideal world neil dies bloody #in this one i made up max did it #neil hargrove is his own warning #billy hargrove redemption #my writing #stranger things fic #hargrove mayfield siblings #max and billy #harringrove #if you squint #pls dont bully me

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billywhoringrove · 1 year

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We know that Steve is clingy af. Like canon Steve literally scaled Nancy’s house in the middle of night for some love.

Imagine Billy and Steve finally together and in a bubble of happiness. So Steve is so confused when he surprises Billy at 2am by sneaking into his window. That instead of happiness Billy looks scared for his life and then angry and is basically shoving Steve back out the window.

Queue Steve thinking he ruined it again. Was asking for too much and that he should of given Billy space. That he is unlovable and of course Billy doesn’t want surprise visits from him. He is bullshit.

#harringrove #neil hargrove is his own warning #but don’t worry Billy is going to fix it #with a very passive aggressive but heart felt conversation #with the main take away of never come to my house again #steve x billy

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 1 year

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Say You Love Me

For the @harringrove-flip-reverse-it Day 2, Fluff Becomes Angst: Hand Holding

(TW: Implied abuse and implied child SA)

Billy loved physical touch. It reminded him of his mom. With his dad around, though, he never got as much as he wanted. The last time he'd been hugged was when he was eight years old. He remembered the way his mom leaned down and squeezed him close to her body. He didn't understand why she was crying as her delicate hands stroked his hair back then.

"I love you so much, I promise I'll come back for you. I promise." She reassured him before finally pulling away. Billy watched as she grabbed the suitcase he saw her packing the night before and went to the taxi waiting in front of their house. She paused for a moment, looking back at her son staring at her from the living room window. She waved at him, and he waved back. The woman gave him one last smile before she got in the cab and left his life forever.

She never did come back.

Growing up with a father like Neil Hargrove, Billy was forced to find affection of any kind elsewhere. In middle school, when he hit his growth spurt and he grew into his big ears, he noticed the way girls stared at him. It was Donna Connors who approached him and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before running off and giggling with her friends. For a moment, he was frozen. He didn't want her to do that, but...it didn't feel bad. At that point, it had been almost four years since someone kissed him. He liked kissing. It didn't matter if he didn't like Donna. It was still the physical affection he craved.

People were easy. He wore less and grew his hair out like the rockstars in the magazines he read. Cleaning and grooming himself to make everyone's heads turn with barely a look. Billy didn't care about what his father had called him. He got everything he needed just by giving people what they wanted. As he grew up, Billy realized there was only one thing people really wanted from someone like him. Women, men...his little league coach...it was fine. Really. He liked what they did to him.

By the time they moved to Hawkins, Billy was used to his transactional relationships with people, but it always felt like something was missing. Something personal.

He wasn't a pussy. Billy told himself this a million times, but as he watched couples together, Billy found himself noticing something. The way people so casually held hands. A soft and simple gesture. He liked the idea of people not having to do something, but being just so in love, they shared casual intimacy with no expectation of something in return. But people like Billy weren't meant to have such soft things.

Steve Harrington was the latest in his long line of hookups but something felt...different about him. He didn't run away after a one night stand like everyone else did. He actually talked to Billy before and after they fucked. The cuddled...it was nice. At least, in private. In public? Neither of them acknowledged the other. Billy knew why. People's would get suspicious about the two boys suddenly getting so close. They couldn't be intimate. Not in the way he wanted. Still, someday, Billy dreamed about being able to hold Steve's hand in public.

#stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #angst #billy's mom #tw: sa mention #neil hargrove is his own warning

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hargrove-mayfields · 2 years

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Harringrove Harvest Week- Day 2

Prompt: Beetlejuice

Billy and Steve as Adam and Barbara, Max as Lydia, and the rest is pretty canon divergent.

Billy was driving too fast in his stupid car again. The papers say it was on purpose, because of his past and the rumors that followed him out of Hawkins, Indiana. The true story is something that shouldn't have been there smashed his windshield. He over-corrected, slipping into a panic attack, and lost control. Into the riverbank that beautiful Chevy went. In 1989, Billy Hargrove and his boyfriend of three years, going on four, drove off a bridge.

He and Steve had left as soon as they graduated, using combined resources from their combined summer jobs to score a shell of a house. A farmhouse, still too country for Billy’s California tastes, but cozy. They made it their home. Spent the years they had together thrifting furniture and putting up wallpaper and fixing new leaks that would pop up. And then…

Neil bought the house as soon as word got back to Old Cherry Road telling the Hargrove-Mayfields that Billy and Steve had kicked the bucket. Even in death he couldn’t let his son have anything nice.

The house they made was too frilly for Neil’s military tastes. Too comfortable maybe. Too reflective of everything Billy had earned in his short life once he finally got away from that asshole. Love, happiness, safety. Only to be holed up in the attic, where he and Steve have to watch while his father and Susan gleefully destroy the house they were supposed to get married in.

Max does too. Her whole life has turned into a dark room. One big dark room. And even though Billy is just a floor above her, he’s terrified to reach out to her when she’s like that. They didn’t leave things on the best of terms when he skipped out on Hawkins, but Steve convinces him that it’s the only way to do something about the destruction of the house.

He gets Billy to do the sheet ghost shtick to prove to Max they aren’t just a grief induced hallucination, and she starts spending a lot of time with them, scheming ways to scare Neil and Susan off so she can have the house since she’s almost eighteen. (They consider taking the easy route and murdering them but the idea is shot down when they realize they’ll have two more ghosts in the house they’ll never be able to get rid of.)

Neil catches wind that Max has been talking to her dead brother, and thinks she’s lost her mind. He steals the handbook from her room, there because she wanted to read it and this time understand what Billy was going through. But once Neil has his hands on it, he doesn’t mistake the séance actually, he does the exorcism on purpose to prove a point.

Max being scared out of her mind to lose Billy and Steve again summons Beetlejuice (Vecna?), the plan backfires, she’s only seventeen and she’s marrying a corpse? Ew.

Susan grows a heart when her daughter is imprisoned in a crimson red wedding dress, and her stepson is half decomposed in front of her. She defies Neil and closes the book, Billy and Steve are saved, so Billy can save his little sister and kill his dad in one go à la sand worm.

The end sequence of Max passing her test and dancing and floating and everyone finally being happy is the same, except Billy definitely plays angry rock music for her to float around to instead of Harry Belafonte, because that’s their mutual outlet.

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #billy x steve #billy & max #neil hargrove is his own warning #ej writer #moodboard #yesterdays piece was the only full length one #so the rest of the week will have moodboards!!

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cavinginhisfvce · 2 years

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FACELESSGAMER

Meet BillyBee!

Harringrove Social Media!AU | PART ONE.

*Angst and Fluff

*Will be 18+ at certain parts

*Discussions of abuse

YOU CAN TRACK THIS STORY USING THE TAG FACELESSGAMER UNTIL I'VE COME UP WITH A TITLE.

Faceless gamer and musician 'Billy Bee' is finally revealing his face to his fans after four years of making them wait! The Billy Hive is impatient, but they love their gay-mer.

(Will be fluff, but with dashes of angst.)

(Other characters will be introduced in the next part!)

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al-ghoul · 2 years

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#billy hargrove #my gifs #I evidently have nothing better to do #and I'm still invisible in the tags #so The Billy Discourse won't come for my ass #tw abuse #neil hargrove is his own warning #PLEASE TUMBLR MAKE ME VISIBLE SO I CAN POST SOME GOOD SHIT

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static-fucking-mess · 3 months

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Eddie couldn't help himself. He stared at Billy Hargrove sometimes; the gorgeous curls and wild grin lit something inside of him the first time Eddie had ever laid eyes on him.

Billy's plush lips sucking in the smoke from his Marlboro reds, broad shoulders, tight jeans. Eddie couldn't help himself from focusing on the way Billy's tongue flashed out to wet his lips as the smoke billowed off into the sky from his nose.

Billy washed into Hawkins and Eddie's life like a hurricane from California. His loud car, crashing music, and Eddie knew just from catching sight of him once that he wanted to know everything about him. He imagined if he got close enough he'd still be able to smell the ocean air on his sun kissed skin. He wanted to know his favorite bands, his thoughts on media, God he'd even sit through talking about cars if it meant Billy would look his way. (It wasn't like he wasn't interested, just that his own knowledge was limited to keeping his dinosaur of a van alive, and he didn't want to sound like an idiot. Not in front of Billy.)

Everything about Billy attracted Eddie to him. Eddie Munson had never considered himself shy. Fuck, he was a bit awkward about social boundaries, but he'd never felt shy before. Then, there were rarely ever new people that came to Hawkins to stay. And Billy made it clear that he had no intention of staying. Hawkins was small, and desperately choking on its shallow gene pool, in Eddie's opinion. Fresh faces were hard to find, especially ones that were willing to look his way, after all.

Billy hadn't been willing. To look his way, that was. He took to the social hierarchy like a wrecking ball, and sent it all asunder. King Steve seemed no more, Tommy and Carol seemed to fight more amongst themselves these days instead of making biting remarks at others. But Billy? He still wouldn't spare a breath on Eddie the Freak Munson.

Eddie had tried once.

He'd been utterly tongue tied in approaching Billy, picking at his sleeve. The two stood awkwardly behind the school dumpsters as they had their smoke break. Eddie's hand shook as he rolled his wrist, searching for the right words that refused to come.

"I really— I mean... fuck— sorry. Hold on. Uh—"

Billy's cool gaze slid up from where his zippo burned the cherry of his cigarette. He flicked his wrist to close his lighter before he tucked it away, utterly unimpressed. Eddie would probably be unimpressed with himself too. But damn; Billy Hargrove was a God carved of marble and gold, blessed by California sun. Eddie was a home grown weed from an Indiana backyard. His brown hair frizzy, unkempt, and his skin a touch oily from his aversion to water. It wasn't like he skipped showers because he wanted to. But in that moment Eddie felt painfully aware that Billy Hargrove was miles out of his league.

"Beat it," Billy grumbled at him. "I'm not in the business of making friends with people like you," he hissed. Those beautiful blues steeling into something dangerous that made Eddie's insides go cold. He swallowed back his words and the shaking in his hand seemed to intensify.

"No um... no that's. Fair. People like me?" Eddie inquired, head tipping a bit. He wanted to know just what part of his stigma had reached Billy first. He'd seen the saints necklace dangling in the open neck of his shirt. "The Satan worshipper? The freak?"

"Queers," Billy snapped. He looked at Eddie like a hostile and wild animal. Like his smiles were more reflective of the animal kingdom than the humanity he bore to charm others. Eddie swallowed dry air and dropped his gaze? Putting his cigarette out under his shoe.

"Right," Eddie affirmed. Billy had seen the way the guy looked at him. It was impossible to miss those dark, chocolate doe eyes when they lingered on him. It tickled the inside of Billy's ribs something real funny when he noticed Eddie in class. Distracted, but gazing his way like he was looking at art in a museum.

Billy was used to people lusting after him. He was hot, and god he knew it. He utilized it more often than he probably should have, but his good genetics in the physical appearance department had gotten him into, and out of a lot of trouble.

But Eddie wasn't lusting.

Eddie looked like he was trying to figure him out. Wondering at him. And that was dangerous. Because Billy had caught himself wondering too. What calloused hands would feel like holding down his wrists, or what those pouty lips would feel like stealing the breath off his. Thoughts like that were what had led to them having to leave California. Thoughts that turned to action, action that had made Neil so angry that he gave Billy two options:

Leave California, and the boy behind...

Or go to Summer Camp.

The two seemed like impossible evils to wrestle with. And in the end, with defeat, Billy had chosen to leave his home behind. It had hurt more that the boy had moved on before Billy could even explain himself. He swore, man or woman, he wouldn't date. Dating just brought trouble. Laying roots was dangerous. Ripping them free just hurt more.

So, he broke Eddie's heart before it had the chance to bloom. So he thought.

Nearing the beginning of November, Billy struggled one morning to light his cigarette. Shivering from the cold, and possibly the pain in his ribs. The pain that curled up through him and reminded him that defiance tasted like iron and copper on every breath in.

"Here—" the voice was steeped in sweet honey. Eddie lit his cigarette for him, and Billy flicked his eyes up to meet with Eddie's.

Eddie cupped his hands around Billy's while the cigarette dangled from his lips. Eddie rubbed his rough hands over Billy's to warm them, breathing softly over them to fight away the frost and chill in the air. Billy stood stiff and still like the early frost had taken root in him.

Eddie gazed up at Billy and offered him a smile, almost sheepish as he stepped away. He mourned the loss of that warmth as soon as it was gone, the fleeting action stirring something inside that Billy didn't want to fan the flames of.

"Shit, sorry," Eddie snorted. "I'm kind of a touchy guy, and uh. Social boundaries? Not my strong suit."

Billy chuffed, shaking his head before he took his cigarette loosely between two fingers and spat onto the pavement.

"Don't fucking touch me, freak," he hissed to Eddie. His frustration sizzling as his voice lacked the ire he wanted it to have. He wanted Eddie to flinch and run. But he didn't. Instead he just... shrugged his shoulders, unbothered, and turned away to smoke his own cigarette.

The next time Billy had contact with Eddie, it happened so quickly that Eddie wasn't even sure what had happened. It was just something small. Something... simple. But as they passed in the hall, Tommy had shoulder checked Eddie hard enough to knock him on his ass, laughing like he was looking for Billy's approval. That was not what happened.

The loud crash against the lockers had startled Eddie back to himself from the position he was in on the floor.

Billy had Tommy pinned to the lockers, speaking to him in a low and deeply venomous tone.

"Hands off, Hagan. The only person who gets to mess with the freak is me," he snarled.

Eddie wondered what that meant, but it felt like stepping closer to a warm fire in a way. He knew Damm well it might be dangerous to get too close. But Eddie didn't mind the way Billy burned. He wanted to be caught in the rush of Billy's storm.

Eddie had held that warm feeling in his chest for a while. It felt like a glow, and it was something that made him look Billy's way, even when he was shoved against lockers, shoulder checked in the hall, or had his books knocked out of his hands. Eddie always caught it.

The smile that wasn't mocking, even when Billy would insult him. It was like he couldn't put the same vitriol in it that he used to.

"Freak" felt more like a term of endearment. "Loser" felt like an invitation to squabble. And God did Eddie take every chance to bicker with Billy Hargrove.

Mid December, their words had turned into a tussle.

"You wouldn't dare—" Eddie had invited, grinning at Billy who had every intention of dumping Eddie into a snowbank.

"I think you need to cool it," Billy had snarked back, looking less than threatening with his red beanie on his head, puff ball and all. It had been Eddie's. The beanie. But Eddie hadn't said a word about the gloves, scarf, and hat he'd left in Billy's locker after he had noticed that the boy from California didn't have clothes suited for Indiana winter.

"Don't do it, Billy," Eddie laughed.

"Do what? I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Billy said back, casual as he took a step closer.

It happened, in a crash of flailing limbs and shrieking laughter. Billy saw Eddie for the first time. He saw the bright smile that was punctuated by dimples on either side. He saw the way Eddie's fuzzy hair fanned out in the snow as he was dumped into the snow bank, and god he couldn't help but notice the way flakes stuck in his eyelashes. His cheeks and ears red from the cold; Eddie wasn't wearing gloves, a hat, or a scarf. He'd given up his warm clothes to keep Billy warm.

And that sure made something inside Billy warmer than the sun in California ever could.

It was mid January when a knock resonated number 12 at the forest hills trailer park. It brought Eddie out of dozing. The alarm clock read an ugly 2am back at him that made him groan.

He pulled himself up and out of bed as the knock grew more irritated and insistent, swiping his hands down over his tired face.

"Jesus christ, I'm coming! Fucking relax!" He bellowed. Eddie shoved his feet into his slippers and shuffled to the front door, ripping it open.

"My hours end at 11 pm on week... nights..." the irritation in Eddie's voice gave way to a shocked whisper as he was met with a ghastly sight before him.

Billy Hargrove standing on his porch, braced against the side of the trailer to stop any swaying. It looked like he had bruises littering half of his face, and Eddie imagined it was worse, with the way the bruises on his neck seemed to bloom down under his jacket.

"Hey," Eddie whispered, unsure if he could say more. When he reached to push a curl out of Billy's face, the man flinched like Eddie was about to put a knife to his throat.

Instead, Eddie put his hand on Billy's shoulder and guided him to come inside.

That was the night that Eddie learned about Neil Hargrove. It was the same night that Eddie slept, curled around Billy. Like he could protect him.

Billy slept with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone, sinking into the scents of cinnamon and cigarette smoke. Eddie was warm, and even though he was more elbows and knees than plush and soft... Billy felt like he fit perfectly with his head tucked under Eddie's chin. Eddie gave good hugs. Great hugs even. Enough of them that Billy felt drunk on the scent of cinnamon and the comfort of his best friend's arms.

They continued as best friends for a long time. Until the Tragedy of Starcourt. Nobody called Eddie. Nobody had thought to at first, really. With the chaos and the news of Russians under the mall— not to mention how the last week or two, Billy had been avoiding Eddie like he was a Germ.

"Get the fuck away from me—"

"Stay away from me Munson."

"Get the fuck out of my face."

"I won't warn you again, if you come near me, I'll break your fucking neck."

Eddie had been sulking about it. Well. More than sulking if he was honest. Had he cried on Wayne's shoulder? Absolutely. Did he get a speeding ticket on his way to the hospital once Max had called him? Absolutely.

Eddie stood in the doorway of Billy's hospital room, looking in on his best friend like the universe had put a knife through his heart. Billy looked barely alive. Fragile.

Eddie was one of the very few visitors that Billy got. Neil Hargrove hadn't shown his face once. Max had told him in a hushed voice that he had packed his things to leave town. Billy was a hero for saving so many people in the mall fire, and Neil still hated him. Didn't want a disabled son.

Billy woke up alone. He wasn't surprised to wake up alone, in a hospital room without a single card on his bedside. Sure, he wasn't surprised... but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. It hurt like being cracked open from the inside out. A glaring statement that told Billy Hargrove:

'You don't matter.'

Even alone, Billy stifled his sobs so he wouldn't be noticed.

"Easy tough guy," the gentle voice came from the doorway, making Billy's heart jump up into his throat. Eddie came in with the nurses, who checked his vitals and pain levels. But Billy barely noticed them. He was focused on the boy whose smile cleansed the tar clinging to his heart.

"Thought I told you to piss off," Billy snorted through his tears, managing a shaky smile.

"I've never been good at listening," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand through Billy's bed messy curls. "Can't shake me that easy, sweetheart. I thought you'd have learned that by now. That grouchy bullshit isn't gonna shake me," he assured. Eddie was determined enough to stick out the hurricane.

"You're annoying," Billy spat at him, pushing his hand away.

"And I'm determined to continue to be," Eddie replied as he snatched Billy's wrist. He slid his hand up to lace their fingers and squeeze.

"Give it time," Billy said, seemingly unimpressed. He refused to look at Eddie, only because the idiot was gazing at him like he was someone precious.

"I've got time," Eddie replied, unshaken.

"Jesus, Munson, why don't you just— just leave me the hell alone?! Why are you always," Billy's breath hitched as his voice broke. Eddie was always there. Like a balm to his wounds. He didn't flinch when Neil beat him. He opened the door or answered the call no matter how late. Eddie Munson was a rock in the hurricane, ready to weather his storm.

Billy thought back to the memories El had shown him in that pit of darkness. His mother, the beach, the waves... and the snowy December day that Billy had fallen in love with Eddie Munson.

Billy didn't resist when Eddie placed his hand on his neck, thumbing his jaw like he was brittle. Fragile. And Billy supposed he was.

"God damn," Eddie whispered, smiling at Billy with tender eyes.

"What? Quit fucking looking at me like that. Like— like... pity. Jesus or like I'm gonna break. I don't need your bullshit sympathies, or your God damn coddling, Munson."

Billy felt like a wild animal, backed into the corner of a cage. Snapping and growling at the tender hands that wanted to hold him. Especially if that monster still lurked inside him somewhere. Ready to hurt.

That fear washed away when Eddie kissed Billy's knuckles, something soft. Endearing. Billy could only hitch a sob as his forehead thudded in to rest on Eddie's collarbone. He squeezed Eddie's hand, and to his relief... Eddie squeezed back. It felt a whole lot like someone saying:

'You matter. I love you.'

And for once, Billy wasn't afraid of it being a lie.

#mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #mentions of abuse #abuse tw #neil hargrove is his own trigger warning #hurt/comfort #Billy Lives

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hippielittlemetalhead · 1 year

Text

Typing this up on my breaks at work so don't come at me for any errors. Not Harringrove unless you mean in like a Capital P Platonic sense reminiscent of his bond with Robin but also Billy antis need not interact?

Season 2 booiiii!!

(part 1)

Steve coasts through Senior year but the small changes in his appearance and occasionally yelling out his two-bits when Munson goes on one of his lunch table rants only settle him so much and Nancy hasn't said but he knows she's not a big fan and he tries to be a steadying presence. Tries to be someone she can forget it all with and let it go because they're kids who signed NDAs and maybe if he can help her the nightmares will stop and the ringing in his ears won't keep coming and going and he will stop spacing out in class. She gets on him about his grades and college. He figures he'll get a job with his dad, learn the company and have enough of an income that he can support Nancy as she pursues her passions and college and fights to change the world and when he inherits the company he'll be in a position to make real lasting change in small towns like Hawkins.

But then the Hargroves come to town and Billy makes a play for the crown that still sits so heavy on his head. Pushes and antagonizes and tries to get a rise from him. There's something about the way he holds himself, the way he preens and struts and takes up so much space while keeping himself so contained that pricks at the back of Steve's head. He's seeing the dots but they're just not connecting. So he lets Hargrove make the big show of biting at his heels but doesn't rise to any of the challenges. And it seems that with someone like Billy to hide behind Tommy has forgotten what happened when he made a play for the crown himself. Though Steve smiles to himself when he realizes that it's obvious Billy wasn't told that little piece of information when he makes comments about Steve being soft and not willing to fight for his reputation. Billy pushes and taunts and Steve is so tired of him and the metalheads heckling him for being punk one minute then calling him a poser the next and trying to keep up appearances for Nancy and the people in town who would report him to his parents before he's ready if he really dressed and behaved the way he wanted to and the government goons he knows have been keeping an eye on Hawkins since that night.

Steve stumbles but he doesn't fall.

Then Tina's Halloween party happens and the girl he loves and is building his future around is calling him and everything they've said and done and promised bullshit. Tommy and Co are still hyping up Hargrove beating Steve's official record as he makes his way out of the house instead of showing off his refined skills from that summer in [insert major big city] that started him on this path to becoming the person he wants to be. He saw Byers around, he knows he'll get her home safe.

Nancy confronts him about not picking her up for school. He won't break up with her behind the school gymnasium of all places but he tells her about everything being bullshit by her own statement, gives her a chance to say she loves him and hopefully mean it, and when she doesn't take it he walks away. He plans to talk to her that weekend. Plans to punk up a little even if she doesn't like it cause it makes him feel safer and more centered, take her flowers and apologize for the way he handled it but call them off. Instead he gets Dustin -one of the kids he's given a ride or two to the arcade with Mike when he and Nancy were headed to the movies or the diner- and monsters and another kid he gives rides to and some random spitfire of a girl. He's angry and sad and scared and he makes sure his heavy leather jacket is zipped up before heading out of the bus to draw out the dog shaped monsters. He needs to keep them safe and if he can hit something bloody in the process that's a win-win.

They end up back at the Byers' place. There's a plan and his part is keeping the kids safe as his now officially ex-girlfriend follows and comforts the boy she is willing to bear her claws for. The plan does not include Billy Hargrove showing up for the random spitfire girl who is apparently his little sister. The plan does not include Billy holding one of his kids (yes it's only been a couple hours but they're HIS to protect godsdammit) up by the front of his shirt and threaten him. The plan does not include a fight that starts with Billy laughing something about finally meeting King Steve and ending with the refrigerator being knocked open and the dead demodog falling out between two scared bloody teenagers who know too much about monsters. The plan does not include Billy Hargrove almost sounding scared as he snaps something about Max going with him because he was not letting her just sneak out to fight monsters with dumbasses trying to get themselves killed and someone named Neil already knowing she was gone and she was lucky Billy hadn't mentioned the Sinclair boy when saying she was probably out with her new friends. It definitely doesn't include Max looking like she finally figured out a particularly hard puzzle and telling Billy if he helped them and helped Steve keep them safe in the tunnels then the chief of police would not only know he was trustworthy and useful but maybe even be indebted for helping make sure the chief's daughter survived her part of the plan.

It makes the dots line up and connect when that makes Billy pause and tentatively ask vague half-questions that he only seemed to trust Max to be able to answer.

Steve decides he hates Neil Hargrove after they've made it through the tunnels easy as anything with Billy taking point so Steve can take up the rear and keep the kids between them. After Billy pulls Dustin away from the weird flower thing that almost got the kid in the face and pulls Mike up and away once Steve got the vine to let go of his leg. After Hopper comes back to see them covered in dirt and soot but grinning victoriously and he had them walk him through what happened so they're all on the same page when the suits decide to show up. After Max pulls Hopper and Billy aside and Steve is able to catch snippets about an asshole and bruises on his face but his knuckles unharmed so she knows he wasn't getting into fights. Steve decides he hates Neil Hargrove and maybe he and Billy have more in common than he thought.

It's not easy after that. The nightmares are still bad but now he and Billy have an understanding and a codeword and a system for whose turn it is to drive when neither of them can sleep. The ringing is a little worse and a little more consistent and his left(? I can't remember if it's his left or right eye that keeps getting messed up) eye gets a little fuzzy when he's tired or stressed. His grades suffer but with Billy's help he's at least able to make it into the local community college once he graduates even if the fancy university his parents wanted him to attend rejected him. El seems intrigued by Steve's look, calls him 'bitching' like she calls Nancy 'pretty' and says he reminds her of her sister and Hopper doesn't seem as big a fan of that but acknowledges that Steve is good babysitter material which will be needed if El is going to be joining society again sooner than he wanted. Max and Billy work with Hopper and Joyce in wearing down Susan to leave Neil or at least make it known that the chief is well aware of what type of man he is and will not stand for it in his town.

That comes to a head when Max and Lucas are unofficially each other's date to the Snowball dance and Neil finds out that Billy knew and even encouraged it (because his sister deserves nice things dammit and this boy was close enough for now... But he's watching and will do his big brother duty if necessary), taking Max there and being seen talking sternly to the Sinclair boy before shaking his hand. Hopper ends up having to lead Neil Hargrove away in handcuffs and Max stays with him and El while Susan files for divorce and custody of Billy through a swollen eye and Steve makes a point of getting Billy his schoolwork and chauffeuring the kids to keep him company during his brief stay in the hospital. Life isn't all good, but it's getting better.

Then Steve's parents come home.

It was thankfully a day The Party and Co weren't over and a recovered Billy was busy applying for summer jobs and he'd deep cleaned the common rooms because that one dusty shelf just rubbed him the wrong way now that the kids weren't around to distract him and the sides of his hair had grown out some so it looked more like the type of haircut he used to have freshman year if a little longer up top. It was unfortunately the day after his father had actually listened to the latest messages and read the end of the year report cards concerning his son's graduation. It was unfortunately a day when Steve was in a shirt that had the sleeves and parts of the sides cut off and showcased his ribs showing the palm sized petal faced Demogorgon head he got the spring break after the first round of interdimensional horror. It was unfortunately a day when [insert pretentious name] Harrington decided that since Steve was 18, couldn't make it into any 'acceptable school' and was obviously not planning on being a proper Harrington man then he was cut off, he knew about the trips to Indianapolis (not all of them but enough) he knew about the music and the parties (even if Steve hadn't thrown one in years), knew Steve was involved in something that had the government coming around and making them look bad in front of the neighbors. He knew about the subtle pins and patches on the jacket hanging by the front door and he wouldn't have that in his house.

So Steve is out by the end of the week. Everything he wants from his room and the house fits into the trunk of the car his dad had signed over as a birthday/graduation gift before the infodump that led them here. He has some money saved from the allowance his parents used to send and a job lined up at the mall opening at the edge of town and the trust fund that his grandparents set up that his father can't touch but neither can Steve before he's 21. He winds up at the door of Hopper's cabin, blurts out that he likes men as much as women, isn't quite an anarchist but it's close some days and his parents found out and it didn't end well before the man can ask what was going on as he opens the door. Hopper lets Steve sleep on their couch while he and Joyce sort out fixing up the old trailer. Billy and El and Nancy and Jonathan help but Steve doesn't want the rest of the kids to know yet. Not with Max still settling after the legal battle with Neil, Lucas at her side trying to help her as best he can, Will recovering from being possessed, Dustin getting ready to go to summer camp and Mike getting over whatever he's being petty about this time (don't want to give the kid more fuel for that fire).

So Steve is mostly moved in to the old trailer by the time he starts at Scoops Ahoy and meets his coworker Robin Buckley. His kids are safe and getting to be kids, his people are all taken care of (Nancy and Jonathan with summer internships and Billy taking Steve's old lifeguard position), the gate is closed, he is set to start some Gen Ed courses at the local community college the next semester and he's heard tell of a decent band that's started playing at The Hideout some weeknights so that will be fun to have something like that closer than Indianapolis.

Life isn't perfect, but it's good. It's getting better.

(part3.1)

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lighteyed · 3 months

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it's no big surprise you turned out this way

steve harrington x fem mayfield!reader

[3.7k] steve comes over for family dinner. it is absolutely not your idea.

disclaimer- no mention of blood relation to max, no physical descriptors of reader, they are sisters in any way you want them to be. trigger warning for shitty parents and billy h*rgrove. this is not a billy safe space.

dividers by @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

thanks for reading if you do <3 enjoy teehee

You drop a kiss on Steve’s head in greeting, which he accepts with a thrilled, in-a-new-relationship, glowing smile, before dropping down beside him and subsequently dropping your news, or rather, your request that’s not really your request, on him. “Neil wants you to come over for dinner.” You tense at the utterance of your stepfather’s name, even if it’s your own mouth doing the uttering.

His smile dissipates. Only a little, but enough for you to wring your hands together. You want to scoop all the words you’d just said back out from his ears and spoon them into your mouth again. Make him forget it’d ever happened. “Like, like family dinner?” He asks. He can’t fathom a world where he sits placid across the table from Billy Hargrove and passes him the salt respectably and doesn’t end the night with his fist colliding with his face (regardless of the outcome).

“No, it’d just be you and him, he’s dying to take you out on a date,” you deadpan in response, shaking your head. Steve rolls his eyes, no malice intended. “Obviously family dinner, Steve. You, me, Max, my mom, Neil… Billy.” You force out the final name. He swears he hears your teeth grinding as you say it.

“Don’t get grouchy on me.” He reaches over and smooths out the upset crease between your brows. Your shoulders relax in response. You’re always so wound up he’s made it his mission to give you that ease he knows you crave. He’s quite good at it, on days where he can steal you away and keep your mind occupied with the lovelier things in life. But there are some things he can’t spare you from, as much as he tries.

Really, he can only keep you out of that house for so long before your family starts demanding their 17-year-old back.

For the most part you keep away. Max roams the new mall all day with her friends now that June’s here and summer’s entered Hawkins in full swing, and you drive them there with your mom’s car if she doesn’t need it for the day, or Steve drives you all there and then home again if he’s not at work already that morning. If he has work you loiter in Scoops the entire day, lugging a stack of books acquired from the library and settling in a corner booth, popping your head up once in awhile to check on him and his misery in his new position in that ridiculous uniform. You brighten his days just as much as he brightens yours. And he really, really does. (And you like the uniform, as silly as it is, for the record).

“’M not grumpy,” you deflate, pressing your forehead into his shoulder. He rubs your back in a nice, soothing way when you lean into him. Ever since he asked you out he’s been taking every excuse to touch you and you’re not complaining in the slightest. He has the softest hands you’ve ever held and they’re perpetually gentle and kind. All the love in the world encased in the hands of some boy from Hawkins, Indiana, a place you never expected to find a home in, let alone find a boy. The boy, if you thought about it long enough. Early days to be thinking about it but you did think about it. Often. For hours. You sigh quietly. “I can tell ‘em you’re busy, you don’t have to come.”

“Max knows I’m not busy,” he points out.

“She doesn’t wanna be there, either. Look, I’ll just say you can’t come-“

“But I can.”

You lift back up, wary, but hopeful. A new flower poking its petals up from the earth, tilting right toward the sun. “I don’t wanna make you miserable.”

“That’s stupid,” he scoffs. He kisses your head this time, the perfumy scent of your shampoo fogging his brain up in a nice, lovey haze. “How could you make me miserable? You’re like, the best thing I’ve ever had, by a mile.”

You smile in spite of your gloomy mood. “The fuckin’ Hargroves have an innate knack for misery.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not a Hargrove then, hm, Mayfield?” He brushes your hair away from your face and takes your chin in his hand, angling your face up properly to meet his, and he kisses you like he well and truly means it, firm and adoring. You can feel his grin seared into your mouth when you pull away, in spite of your reluctance and Steve’s attempts to pull you back in.

. “You really wanna come? It won’t be fun. It’ll probably be shitty, actually.” You ask him in a tiny, hesitant voice, too overcompensating to someone who do anything you asked of him. Having Steve there sounds better than not having him there, and better than having to explain why he’s chosen not to come, but you know it’ll be weird. Worse than weird. After what happened back in November, him and Billy go out of their way to ignore one another, and it’s so deliberate it sucks the air out of a room. And even with that, Billy still makes it a point to direct snide remarks to you about Steve every chance he gets: alone, in front of Max, in front of your parents, in front of Steve himself while pretending he’s not there. And it’s gotten worse since you admitted to your mother in confidence that you and Steve were together now, and she told Neil, and Neil told Billy. But there’s no running from being at the same dinner table as him. You know you’re asking a lot. You wouldn’t be asking if Neil hadn’t insisted. In a loud, pointed voice, with a stare that unnerved you. You’d agreed to it hurriedly after that.

“Well,” Steve leans back, playful, “want to is a bit of a stretch but I can make an exception for ya-“

“Steve-“ you groan, pushing his chest, but he laughs, pushing himself back forward, smacking another loud kiss on your mouth.

“Kidding, I’m kidding, c’mere,” his fingers grip your waist feather-light, tickling, as he laughs, and you can’t help but laugh too through your head shakes and faux-exasperated sighs.

“I’m really asking you if you want to, I know it’s a lot asking you to make nice with Billy.” You interlace your fingers with his and he places them on your lap, all big brown eyes blinking up at you affectionately. You’re a sucker for his eyes. You can tell what he’s going to say before he says it.

“Nothin’s too much for you,” he says in his sweet, low voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek, his stamp of agreeance left blazing there on your cheek.

Late into the next day he arrives on 4819 Cherry Lane, as he has so many times before, but he parks right in front and gets out this time. He doesn’t sit by the wheel waiting for you to come running out, sometimes with Max in toe, usually by yourself, breathless and beaming, ready for him to whisk you away as fast as he can without breaking a million laws. He knows it’s not the gentlemanly thing to do, having a girl come to the car by herself instead of going up and ringing her bell, and normally he would, but you insisted he didn’t, not wanting to draw attention to yourself or him, and you were already waiting outside on the front steps when he got there most of the time, anyway.

And this time, too, you get the door before he can ring the bell, almost ripping it off the hinges when you throw it open to greet him.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You go to take his hand but remembers yours is sweaty and pull back. The sweater you’re wearing is pretty, complements your eyes and complexion and your everything, and your hair is down and soft-looking. He’d run his hands through it in other circumstances. “It’s not too late to make a break for it,” you lead him into the house quietly, throwing your head back and casting a dark look down the hallway. “Just say the words and we can flee, I won’t blame you.” He’s dressed so nicely, and you don’t even have the time to properly admire him. He did his hair all perfect (he always does but you can tell he put a little extra sparkle into it tonight), he’s in his nicest jeans that mold against his legs slim and fit, his sweater is a navy blue and it’s such a good color on him you might cry. You can see effort written in everything he does, tonight especially. His desire to make a good impression rings in your heart. You want to regard him warmly and turn your gaze on him with the utmost veneration but your skin buzzes with anxiety and it feels like one large, domineering fist is clamped around your intestines.

“It’ll be fine,” he says, squeezing your hand. He doesn’t even notice that it’s sweaty, though your anxiety is palpable and he amps up his happy exterior to balance you out. He’s probably just as nervous as you are, deep down. “Parents love me.” It’s an insistent sentence. “And I’m gonna turn on my charm.” He makes a clicking sound with his mouth and snaps his fingers around a little. You stare at him, blank. Neil is rumbling around somewhere in the distance and for the time being you are utterly immune to Steve’s banter.

Not completely, but enough. “I don’t know if that’s the kinda charm we need here,” you pat his shoulder.

“But it can’t hurt,” he points out with a raised eyebrow, pointing a finger gun at you.

“Oh, it can hurt alright.” You steer him into the living room anyway. “Steve is here.”

You announce it to the open air, waiting to see who comes when you call. Your mom, immediately, rushes out of the kitchen to greet him. She’s never met one of your boyfriends before. Her greeting is enthusiastic, to say the least. And she’s a hugger. It’s nice, actually, Steve thinks, no matter how embarrassed and nervous you are, to be embraced kindly by a mother. It’s familiar, like some distant dream from a faraway past. You have your qualms with Susan, he knows that, but he knows you love her hard, and that’s why you take so much issue with the way she lets herself be treated. It’s difficult to watch you grapple with all of this, all of the time.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Steve, or Steven? Whatever you want,” she rubs his back as she takes him into the kitchen alongside you.

“Steve is great, thank you, Mrs. May-“ he clears his throat, “Mrs. Hargrove, I mean.“ It’s hard to reconcile this woman in front of him with the domineering men bearing that same last name. It’s hard to distinguish her as anything but another piece of you and Max. A good piece.

“The girls talk about you all the time,” Susan says, still smiling.

“I do not,” Max huffs as she comes out of her room, abashed. She’s in a nice outfit, too. Not as dressed down as she usually is. She tugs at her tied back hair like it hurts.

“Ma, how tight did you do her hair?” You ask, beckoning Max over.

“It pops out of every scrunchie!” Susan says, patting her on the head with such clear affection it makes Steve ache a little.

“Maxie.” You open your arms for her. She stands in front of you obediently as you loosen the hold her hair ties have on her unruly locks, smoothing them out nicely as you tie it back up again, looser.

Everything’s so nice and homey that the shift in the atmosphere is almost imperceptible when a door creaks open a bit away from you four. But it’s there. He sees you draw back into yourself, your smile, at him talking to your mom and being so sweet, at Max, at the normalcy of this moment, sliding right off your face as Neil walks into the room. You’d almost forgotten him. You could’ve stayed in a bubble with your mom and sister and beautiful boyfriend forever. But Neil comes out from the hallway, from Billy’s bedroom, and Billy follows behind, fully clothed for once, his shirt buttoned all the way up his chest, his expression dark and cloudy. His jaw is tight as his gaze fixes on Steve.

But Steve, so gracious, sticks his hand out to shake Neil’s, smiling like Neil’s spawn isn’t the worst person Steve’s ever encountered as he introduces himself. “Nice to meet you, sir. Steve Harrington.” He keeps his mouth upturned sweet and polite even when Billy snorts in the background. He doesn’t even look in his direction.

“Nice to meet you, too, Steven.” Neil’s handshake is more like a clenched fist. You stare at their clasped hands like you want to commit murder. Steven.

“Steve, not Steven,” you mutter. Max touches your arm in warning before Steve can. You can’t help it. If there’s anyone you’re defensive over besides her, it’s him.

“Steven’s fine,” he chimes in, keeping that same old good-natured Steve smile on his face. He’s too appeasing and Neil has never deserved it. He rolls his shoulders back and talks to himself in his head. Just one night. For her, for her, for her.

“It’s the name your parents gave you, of course it’s fine,” Neil claps him on the back, and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it but you and Steve both flinch. From the words and the tap alike. Neil ignores your remark completely as he continues to talk to Steve in a way that makes your skin crawl. He brings Steve over to the dining room table and the rest of you follow suit, settling in around each other. You make sure you sit next to Steve, but you second-guess it when Billy takes the straight across from him. Neil drones on. “Y’know, it’s interesting how all this time, you’ve been driving the girls around for months now, but this is the first time we’re meeting.”

Steve checks on you out of the corner of his eye. Your jaw ticks. He squeezes your knee but before he can answer, you do it for him. “He’s been busy, that’s all.”

Neil looks toward you. For once. It is not a pleasant look. “For months?” He tucks his hands under his chin.

“I know you don’t like having strangers in the house after you work,” you say, placating in a way that turns your stomach.

“That’s true,” Neil says. “Billy doesn’t seem to get the memo on that, so I’m glad someone in this house is paying attention.” The degradation of Billy at the dinner table is nothing new. And you feel bad about it. You’d feel worse if he wasn’t so nasty and hateful to everyone because of it. Neil had run into Billy’s latest flavor, Miranda Brady from your Calculus class, while she was rummaging through the fridge the other night, and he hadn’t been happy. He was polite to her until she’d been hurried out the door by Billy, and then he’d reamed into him in colorful, awful ways. Max and Susan both hadn’t been home, but it was one of those nights where you had been, and you’d lingered by your bedroom door awkwardly, making sure it didn’t get too out of hand. You weren’t sure either of them even knew you were there. Accepting the praise seems wrong. You nod stiffly.

Billy, however, turns his gaze on Steve, the first acknowledgement he’s gotten in months. “Say, Harrington, you used to be quite the ladies’ man yourself, yeah?” A sick grin creeps up on his face. Steve sees your hand tighten around your fork. You’ve barely shoveled your pasta into your mouth. Max gapes at her stepbrother, her mouth still full of food.

Steve clears his throat. “I had a steady girlfriend for about a year, actually. I’m sure you remember that.”

“Yeah, but I mean,” Billy rocks his chair back. “That’s not what they were calling you King Steve for, is it?”

You lurch forward. Steve drops his hand over your knee again. “I think it was because of the whole captain of the basketball team thing. Or the captain of the swim team thing, I can’t remember when it started. Youngest captain the Tigers had seen in a decade, actually, when I got it sophomore year.” Steve grins again and the cocky charm he possesses but hardly uses much anymore comes out to play, just for a bit. You settle down again. You eat what’s in front of you, calmly. You hear Max gulp down her own food across the table. It’s almost cartoonish.

“Max, chew first,” Susan admonishes gently.

“I am,” she retorts, but she’s inhaling everything in front of her.

Billy cuts in. “See, that’s interesting, I thought it was because you hooked up with a lot of girls. Like half the class.”

Steve doesn’t even blink. He takes a sip of his water. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Are you trying to upset your sister?” Neil asks him with raised eyebrows.

He goes quiet again, hardened. “No.”

“It seems like you’re trying to.”

His jaw ticks this time. “I’m not.”

“Do you remember what I said to you? About a half hour ago?”

His jaw ticks again. His eyes meet Steve’s over the table. Steve feels the merest twitch of embarrassment for him. He knows all too well what it’s like to have a dad who takes a weird sort of pleasure in berating his son. “Yes, I remember.”

You stare down at your plate, pinching the skin of your palm.

“If you remember so well, then you should stop talking.”

Billy stops talking. Neil turns to Steve again. “So, captain of two athletic teams, that’s impressive. I’m sure your college plans are impressive as well.”

Steve stutters in his answer and you hold your head aloft in your hands, suppressing a groan. Max finishes her food so fast, she’s excused from the table and gone within minutes of that conversation starting. You nearly fall out of your chair in your attempt to kick her shin under the table. She holds her hands up in her retreat while nobody’s looking, mouthing that she’s sorry at you and running away into your shared bedroom. You suppress a groan again.

Outside, after another grueling hour of Neil dominating the conversation and making dinner unenjoyable for everyone, you walk Steve to his car, fiddling with your hands again. He props himself up against his window and wrestles you out of the knot you’re in.

“That sucked, I’m sorry,” you say, knocking your foreheads together, your mouth drawn in a thin, perturbed line.

“It was fine, you’re fine,” he whispers the last bit. That’s what you’re more worried about, after all. You’re worried he’s mad, planning to leave you for someone with a more normal family, people who are warmer, someone capable of being warmer. You’re plenty warm around him, but you suppose you could be better. You start running over all the things you could do better and all the ways he could do better in your head. “Stop thinkin’ so much. Everything’s okay.” He nudges your foot with his.

“No, I know, it’s just, it’s awkward, it’s not fun, shitty way to spend your night, shitty way for anyone to spend a night.”

“It’s okay. It was good. I was good, wasn’t I?” He kisses your palm where you’d pinched it earlier.

“You were great, you’re always great.” You stroke his cheek, lingering on his lips for a second. “You look really nice, by the way.” You’d almost forgotten to tell him. “I like this color on you.” You smooth over and down his arms.

“Yeah?” He grins, lopsided, tilting his head.

“Looks good with your hair.” You reach up to tug on the strand that hangs down like an art form over his forehead. You’re the only one he lets play around about his hair.

“You look beautiful, too, for the record.”

“I was trying to make this about you.” You poke him.

“I like when things are about you.” He pokes you back.

“I hate when things are about me.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to fix that.”

You chuckle. “Good luck.”

He gestures back to your house. “I’m makin’ progress here. I think I get you a little bit better now, after all that.”

“And what exactly do you get?” You wrap your arms around his waist.

“Why you’re always so tense and grumpy.” He cups your cheeks like he’s holding the most delicate thing ever to be held.

“I’m not grumpy-“

“Just tense, then.”

You accept that, begrudgingly. “I’m pretty on edge most of the time, I guess.”

“I try to talk you out of it,” he says softly, stroking your face.

“You’re the best, I hope you know that.”

“I try,” he says again, and you nod. “It’s not easy. Night after night.”

“It’s not.” You bunch up his sweater.

“I get it, you know? They’re not here as often as yours, but I get it.”

“Dinner with yours next time?”

“Yeah fucking right.” He kisses you for it, though, because you mean it, you’d have dinner with them if he asked just like he did because you asked, a long and languid kiss that he hopes no one’s shifting around the curtains to be privy to. He withdraws first and says, “Your mom is sweet, I’d have dinner with her again.”

“I’ll let you know when she’s free, take her out, show her a good time,” you tease.

“If she’s anything like you I’m a goner,” he laments.

“You’re a flirt, is what you are.”

You kiss him again, beaming, heart swollen with affection.

When you go back inside and Susan tells you how wonderful and handsome she thought Steve was, how good he seemed for you, that rush flows through you all over again. You even bring her in for a hug.

thank u for reading ur super hot n sexy n we're kissing rn

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x mayfield!reader #mayfieldreaderverse #look at me finishing a wip

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2,344

warnings: swearing, smoking, reader is lonely, descriptions of billy’s abuse, mentions of neil

a/n: hi! so i decided to challenge myself with this. i’m making this a multi-part story. i’ve never done anything like this before, but so far i’m enjoying it. i’m not entirely sure where we’re headed, but i’ve got a sort of outline in my head. i’ve also decided to try something else new, and i’ve picked out some songs that you can listen to before you read to get you in the mood—but only if you want of course. this is all a really new experience for me but i have put a lot of heart into this first part. i hope that you enjoy this, really i do. also the title is from a part of hop’s letter to el. <333

before you read, listen to: wheel in the sky by journey and/or (don’t fear) the reaper by blue oyster cult

————

Sitting cross-legged on your bed, you turn the page of the book in front of you, the sound of the paper flipping an audible one.

You lift the hardback, tuck your nose into the center of the pages and give it a sniff. It might be odd to do so, yes, but to you, books are the best smelling thing in the world.

You put it back down, go back to reading.

A knock breaks you out of your fantasy literature-induced stupor.

“Honey? Okay for me to come in?” Your mother’s voice, soft and sweet.

“Sure.” Your voice is quiet when you speak, though just loud enough for her to hear.

Your bedroom door opens enough for your mother to stand just inside, her back against the frame, one hand gently resting on the knob.

You reach for your bookmark, drape it over one side of the pages and then close it.

“Hey, kiddo.” Her smile is easy. You try your best to give her one of your own, but you know it falls short.

“Wendy and I are going out to dinner tonight and then to an art show.”

Wendy was your mother’s longtime best friend, and quite the riot.

“Apparently her new girlfriend is something of an artist.” She gives a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Do you think you’d like to tag along?”

You uncross your legs and stretch them out: contemplating. Then you do the same to your back, which makes an obscene crackling noise—enough to make the both of you grimace.

You know how you’ll feel if you go out with your mother and her friend.

You’ll be okay for the first little while, but then there will be too many people. You’ll get nervous. You will probably say something wrong and feel the need to shut down. You will shut down. Your hands will get shaky and you’ll get upset, and by the end of the night you’ll wish you hadn’t gone at all.

You know how you’ll feel if you stay home, too.

You’ll be fine, totally fine, having avoided everything you’d face in the other situation. But you’d be guilty. Guilty because you’re young and you won’t be going out to do whatever or making friends. You’ll feel like you’re failing your mom, who just wants you to experience things.

You decide that leaving your house shouldn’t require this much stress.

“No, I don’t think so,” you finally say. “But thank you for offering.”

You watch your mother as she moves further inside your room, settling on the edge of your bed.

“Are you sure?” She sets her hands on your knees, tapping her fingers, many a ring glinting in the overhead light of your room.

“We could get frozen yogurt. You know, I really think you’ve turned Wendy into a monster after we went last time. It’s all she talks about now.”

That gets a small smile out of you, but brings an ache to your chest.

“I’m sure. Don’t get too crazy, tonight, though. And be sure to let me know about her new partner.”

“Alright. Hug or no? What’s the affectionate meter at right now?”

“A hug is fine,” you say through a quiet laugh.

She wraps her arms carefully around your shoulders, allowing you to squeeze first, that way she can gauge what you need.

“I’ll leave some money out so you can order pizza, okay?” You nod. “Also there’s a pint of the ice cream you like in the freezer.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my little honeybee.” With a final pat of your knee and a wink sent in the direction of your book, your mother sweeps out of the room, and a little while later she is out the door.

Alone in the house, you let out an exhale, before heading to the kitchen.

Opening the designated take-out-menu-drawer, you scrounge for the one belonging to a local pizza place. You go ahead and order now, knowing that it might take awhile since the place is in downtown Hawkins.

You realize, setting the phone down, that you don’t know what to do with yourself once you’ve got the chance to do whatever you please.

You retrieve your book to read on the couch until your dinner arrives, not only for a change of scenery, but because you’ll need to be out in the living room to watch an episode of your favorite show in a while anyhow.

You’ve only sat momentarily when you hear it. Hear him. When you hear his music, specifically.

Billy Hargrove lives a few doors down from you, just close enough that you can always hear when he comes home, music blaring—not that differently from the volume you play it at when alone in your car—and doors slamming.

You don’t know him personally, only from school. Only as this pretty boy who’s been in Hawkins a few months.

You know enough that you hate the way people at school look at him. Like he’s an object. Like he’s this foreign being just because he came all the way from sunny California. The way they talk about him. About his ass, or his car, or his little redhead sister.

You know he’s pretty. You’d never deny that. But he’s just like the rest of you, and it bothers you that people treat him—at least from what you’ve seen—like this all-powerful dude.

But you also know enough that you think maybe he doesn’t have the best home life, just from what you’ve seen when you’re not out—which is always.

Sometimes you see him walking up and down the street at various times during the day. Or you hear his car speed off.

Sometimes, though really only sometimes, you see him trailing his sister while she skateboards, either talking or sitting while she goes.

To you, he seems like a loner.

And maybe it’s because you’re one too that you see him that way. That you can see him that way.

————

Outside, Billy cups his hand around his cigarette. It’s seemingly out of habit, since it’s not windy out. His thumb slides along the spark wheel of his lighter once, twice before the flame catches. The tip glows red in the night.

He walks a little further, as he inhales deeply, closing his eyes and soaking it in. He kicks a rock, hard, trying to see if it’ll hit the post of the mailbox a few feet ahead of him.

He watches a pizza delivery car ride by and pull into a driveway. He hasn’t made it very far on his walk. The walk he wouldn’t be taking because it’s pretty damn cold outside.

But Neil Hargrove wasn’t aware that Max Mayfield had joined the Hawkins AV Club, and when there was no Max at home, he took it out on Billy, telling him he was an irresponsible waste of space.

It took Susan getting home with her daughter and explaining the situation for Neil to calm down.

But Billy’s back was aching from where he’d been slammed up against a doorframe, and frankly he wanted nothing more than to get out of the house.

So here he was.

A porch light flicked on as if whoever was inside had been waiting on that pizza. You had been—sitting on the couch and listening for car sounds.

When the delivery guy rings the doorbell you appear, and Billy realizes he knows you. That he goes to school with you. You’re very quiet. He also thinks your very pretty, and he’s never noticed that before.

You look very comfortable; all of your clothes seem to be too big. With the way the yellow outside light hits you, it gives your face a multitude of shadows. Billy thinks about some of the greek statues he learned about in a history class back when he lived in California. About how artists tended to sculpt women with real bodies.

Shit, he thinks. He’s probably staring at you. But you really are very pretty.

On the stoop, you take the pizza and set it on the table just inside the door and then hand the guy his money.

You decide not to be a dick and make sure that he gets out okay. When he backs out, you catch a flash of red out of the corner of your eye.

You wouldn’t be able to see him if it weren’t for the street lights. Billy is looking at you. You smile at him, and to your surprise, he smiles back.

“You okay?” You ask, hoping that your voice carries to him, because you don’t feel like shouting.

You watch him shrug and take another drag of his cigarette. The fingers on his free hand fidget with the ring he’s wearing, and you pretend not to notice.

“You?” He questions in return. Something about the sound of his voice makes you feel warm inside.

You shrug back, and he lets out a breath of a laugh, before you turn around to go inside and he continues with his walk.

You kick the door shut and lock it behind you, thinking about Billy.

That is the most extensive conversation you’ve ever had with him, aside from one a few days after he started at Hawkins High, when he didn’t know where the auditorium was, so you walked him the whole way there. You were pretty sure he’d been embarrassed to have to ask for help, but you hadn’t been bothered at all.

In fact, that exchange outside was the most conversation you’d had with anyone outside of your mother in a while.

Most days you didn’t say a word at school, keeping to yourself, trying to get homework done any chance you could so that it didn’t actually become homework. Sometimes you had to speak with a teacher though, and of course you said thank you when someone held a door—but that was it.

Quite frankly you didn’t know what to think. Part of you hoped you’d see him again. That you’d make a friend.

You hadn’t had a friend in a very long time.

————

When your mother returns home, it is with many beans to spill.

Wendy’s new partner, who you found out was named Stephanie, was, in your mother’s words, “Hot enough to go gay for.”

Your mother had also undoubtedly had some to drink while out and about.

“Also that boy from down the street? Don’t you go to school with him?”

You start fussing with a string on your sleeve. “Yeah, why?”

“Well he was brooding on his porch when Wendy retrieved me, and he’s still wandering around outside. It’s been,” she checked her watch, “three hours.”

You scratch at your nose, thinking.

“I saw him when the pizza got here.”

Your mother hums. “Well, I’m going to go shower the art gallery off of me and then probably stay up too late reading.”

“Okay.”

She smiles sweetly at you, collecting the pile of rings and other jewelry that she’d taken off and set on the counter while talking to you, and then you’re alone again.

You flatten your body over the countertop, bending at the waist and stretching so that your fingers can grip the other side.

You think about Billy out there. He was obviously going through something. And maybe it isn’t any of your business, but you hate the idea of him being alone, wallowing in self-pity. Not that you have any room to talk.

You straighten, walking carefully so as to not allow your socked feet to slip along the floor, and find yourself reaching for your coat.

Shoving your feet into a pair of shoes, you flip on the porch light once again, and make your way outside.

Across the street, Billy is resting against a low wall that has a mailbox set into it.

Looking both ways out of habit, you make your way towards him, stopping a few feet away. He looks up at you, both hands on the brick underneath him. There is a half-finished cigarette in one of his hands. You find yourself wondering how much he’d smoked since he’d been out here.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He quirks a brow at you.

“You’ve been out here a long time, you know that?”

Billy glances at his watch. “Seems so.”

“Not cold?”

“‘M fucking freezing my ass off out here.”

You try and choose your words carefully, not wanting to push too hard. “Seems like you could solve that problem if you went inside.”

“Are you worried about me or something, Y/N?”

Trying not to think about the way your name sounded leaving his mouth, you admit to your crimes.

“Yeah, actually. You were out here earlier, and my mom said she saw you when she left and when she got home. I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Something in Billy’s face softens. “Yeah?”

You exhale, your breath leaving a plume of air in front of you.

“Yeah.”

“Well then I guess I better get my ass inside, huh?”

You stuff your hands into your pockets and realize what you’ve got in there.

“Here.” You pull out a little hand warmer packet an hold it out to him.

Billy laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, you think. Charming and hearty. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

————

At school Monday, you make your way to the lunch table you’ve claimed, grass squishing under your feet.

You flip open your book, shove one leg under you.

It’s only been a little while of munching on grapes and forcing yourself to concentrate before you feel a weight drop onto the bench across from you, shifting the old table a little.

You look up. Billy Hargrove looks back.

He throws his bag on the worn wood, slaps a book of his own on top of that.

You’re confused at his appearance, and he seems to sense that.

“I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

You feel yourself heat up, and sit on one of your hands because you also feel like you could cry.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove comfort #billy stranger things #stranger things fic #billy stranger things fic #billy hargrove x f!reader #savannah’s fics

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billys-pretty-babe · 3 months

Text

Needed To Tell You

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Billy loves you more than he can ever express, and every single night in the middle of the night when everything is quiet, he wakes you up just to tell you.

⚠️ not my gif, creds go to @bonniebird ⚠️

Warnings : Swearing, smut implications

Word count : 349

A/N : just something short and sweet because i need billy content

Billy looked down at you, the moon's light putting a soft dim white light into the room. His hand moved over your hair as he placed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. You were fast asleep, have been for hours ever since the sex stopped, but his mind was running.

Not with anything bad, but with how much he loved you. He couldn't shut the thoughts off if he wanted to. You were everything to Billy, if he could, he would put you in his denim jacket pocket and carry you with him everywhere, but unfortunately, you had your own priorities.

He gently woke you up, rubbing your back and speaking to you. You hummed, eyes fluttering open. He felt bad when he saw how heavy your eyes were. "I love you," he said softly. You smiled, snuggling up closer to him, practically laying on top of him. "I love you too. Is everything okay?" He nodded, "Everything's perfect, pretty girl." He placed a kiss to the middle of your brow, making you smile and hum, your eyes shutting once more. "Goodnight baby, see you in the morning," he quietly said, rubbing your back again.

He loved you so much his heart would burst, he never and would never feel like this for anyone else. You had helped him through so many dark things, you helped him get away from his dad. The two of you began dating in junior year before breaking up in June 1985, before the two of you got back together in September 1985.

Now, it's been a year since the breakup and the two of were thriving. Neil wasn't tormenting Billy about his relationship with you, you didn't have to worry about Billy's random outbursts. It was just the two of you, with blue waves and salty air, living the best life the two of you could have ever dreamed of.

Billy continued rubbing your back as he put his chin on your head, humming your favorite song as he listened to the waves crash, the sound lulling him to sleep.

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove #william hargrove #stranger things billy #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x you

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 1 year

Text

Run to the Hills

Possession for Day 6 of @mungroveweek !

It had been four days since Eddie had last seen his boyfriend, and at this point, he was worried. It had been almost three months since they'd become official. Well, as "official" as a gay couple in Hawkins could be. The two carefully sneaking behind the backs of judging eyes with only a handful of people knowing about the couple. If he couple, Eddie would excitedly get on a table and two the world about his love for Billy. He wanted to do that more than anything, but he couldn't. Not here in Bumfuck, Indiana. Not when Billy still lived with the walking shitbag that was Neil Hargrove. The blonde never said it, but Eddie saw the look of fear that crossed his boyfriend's eyes when the topic of his father came up.

"Kid, you okay?" Eddie didn't realize how anxiously he'd been scribbling into his notebook until he was surprised by his uncle's hand on his shoulder. The metalhead looked back to see his uncle holding the ugly Garfield mug Eddie bought him last father's day in his free hand with a concerned look on his face. "You look all worked up about something."

"It's nothing, Wayne." Eddie waved his uncle off. "Just...thinking about something."

"About that boy of yours? Haven't seen him come 'round these past few days."

"No, just...just trying to get ready for my senior year. Again. I'm thinking about getting a tutor." A blatant lie. Wayne didn't need to know that.

"Right." Wayne replied with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I'm leaving for work. Make sure to lock the door behind you when you leave."

"Yeah, sure." Eddie agreed half heartedly as Wayne left the trailer. His attention returned to the notebook page now covered almost completely in black pen scribbles. Damn it, this was really starting to bother him. Eddie glanced to the side at the phone on the wall. He wanted to call Billy. But there was also the chance Neil would pick up. Eddie could only imagine what the man would do if another boy called asking to talk to his son. "Damn it." Eddie cursed quietly, contemplating what to do when there was a knock on the front door.

"The hell?" Eddie asked out loud as he got up. Going over to the door with mild confusion. "Wayne?" He called out experimentally. "You forget something?" The teen pressed his face to the door and looked through the peephole. His eyes widened as he recognized the figure on his porch. Eddie practically yanked the door open where he was greeted by the familiar figure of his boyfriend. "Billy! Holy shit!" Eddie exclaimed, probably a bit too loudly, but he didn't care. "Fuck, I was starting to get worried about you," Eddie led the blonde into the trailer excitedly," I almost called-wait, shit, Billy, are you okay?" It took a solid minute for Eddie to notice the state of his boyfriend. Billy stared at him blankly as his body shook. A sheen of sweat covered his distressed face with a mess of blonde curls matted to the sides. He looked like a hot mess. Even worse, Eddie took note of the bruises that covered his arms and chest.

"Fuck, what happened to you?" Eddie asked as he gently took one of Billy's hands in his. "Did that bastard do that to you? I swear to God, I'll kill him if he did-"

"Already did that." Billy finally spoke, his voice coming out through gritted teeth. "You're next."

"What?" Eddie asked as confusion knit into his face. "Come on, dude, what-?" Eddie was cut off by one of the blonde's hands darting out and grabbing him by the throat. Immediately, the boy began to panic as he tried to struggle against Billy's grip. He watched in horror as Billy's veins began to bulge and his eyes darkened. With a supernatural strength, Billy lifted him off the ground single handedly.

"He became a part of us. So will you and everyone else in this God forsaken town." The voice that spilled out wasn't Billy. Eddie knew his boyfriend, this wasn't him. Something was wearing his skin like a disgusting flesh puppet. Maybe an alien. Eddie was struggling to think as he struggled to stay awake and breathe. His arms fell to the side as things started to grow fuzzy. Barely maintaining consciousness when the grip suddenly relented.

Eddie fell to the floor, gasping for air as his vision swam back into the focus. Looking up, Eddie saw Billy standing above him as his body twitched and jerked side to side.

"You can't have him."

"You can't tell us what we can have."

"No! I'll fucking kill you if you touch him again."

"Why must you continue to fight?"

Eddie watched in confusion as Billy's voice switched back and forth, his arms literally tearing at each other when his head snapped to face Eddie.

"Run!" Billy's voice screamed at him. Eddie couldn't help but obey as his feet carried him out the door and far, far away from his home and his boyfriend. A sinking feeling buried itself in Eddie's gut as he wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now.

#stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson #billy hargrove #mungrove #mungrove week #billy x eddie #mind flayer #possession #wayne munson #neil hargrove is his own warning

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