#billy hargrove fic

[t0oth-r0t]

thinking about sleeping in billy hargrove's car

soft!billy who always lets you know when he leaves, even when you're half asleep on the couch.

"hey. late night errands to run. i'll be home by eleven, sleepyhead."

soft!billy who would never dream of saying no to you.

"can i come with? wanna sleep in the back.."

"yeah? ...sure thing, babe."

soft!billy who isn't actually sure it's a good idea, but can't look at your half-lidded, sleepy eyes for a second without caving.

"i'll be inside, but if you need me, you can come get me. if someone messes with you, or–"

"billy,"

"right."

soft!billy who glances back, catching a glimpse of you through the drenched window of his camaro, already asleep. you look so peaceful, curled up in the backseat, that he almost doesn't go into the store at all, wishing he was laying across the seats with you.

[dorkszn]

big dick!billy who loves having you sit on his lap because he knows you can feel him through his pants

big dick!billy who filmed you the first time he fucked you so he’ll always have the memory of the first time he stretched you out around him. a tape of your body quivering, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, his cock stuffed in you to the hilt, and your hands clutching at the sheets on his bed.

big dick!billy who keeps a photo of your stomach in his wallet. a bulge in your belly showing how deep he’s buried in you.

big dick!billy who loves seeing you cry and pout around his cock when you can’t take him all the way down your throat. he assures you that it’s okay and wraps your hand around his base and even that barely works

big dick!billy who can’t help but chuckle as he watches you try to sink yourself down onto his dick. his seat pushed back to accompany for you on top of him, slowly sucking him in inch by inch. your face contorting as you take him in and he can’t help but bite his bottom lip to hold back his grin. he thinks it’s cute how much you struggle to take him by yourself. and he’s more than happy to help you down when you ask, after teasing you, of course. he waste no time slamming you down on his cock.

[shes-an-odd-bird]

Billy + eddie or if you only do billy hargrove him with a shy female virgin who won't have sex easily with him and he wins her over.

Hi! I do love Eddie, however, I don't write for him, but I will gladly write your Billy/virgin reader request. Sorry it took forever. Hope you enjoy it.

Summery: Billy takes your virginity and you love every second of it. He’s actually very sweet. Maybe even falls for you 🥹

Title: Please Billy

Warnings: !!minors dni, 18+ only!! You and Billy are over 18, smut, dirty talk, fingering, kissing, p in v, loss of virginity, Billy is a sweetie with a big dick

My Masterlist in case you need more Billy

Who wouldn’t want this guy to be your first?👇🏻

Virgins weren’t necessarily Billy’s thing. Sure he’s had a few, but he’s more interested in easy girls. Girls who give up their pussies without a lot of hard work on his end. But you… you were drop dead gorgeous and he seriously couldn’t believe that a sexy little thing like you had never been fucked. He’s been chasing your pretty little ass for weeks now. So here he sits, in your bedroom one evening, your parents out for the night, you sitting on his lap in a pretty little sundress on a big soft cushioned chair. How'd he get so lucky?

He leans back against the plushness, his thick body engulfing the chair, making it seem much smaller than it actually was. His hand rests on your soft bare thigh, thumb rubbing little circles against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps, even though it was June and no where near cold. His hot minty breath tickling your ear as he whispers in that deep, sweet, smooth talking voice of his. Voice like honey. Smooth and seductive. Whispers soft, making you bite your lip. Nips at your earlobe, chuckling at your soft giggles. You feel it, that familiar feeling in-between your thighs. "Mmm, pretty girl." He mumbles, other hand squeezing your hip, kneading it softly.

"Billy, I don't think we should." You say, looking into his beautiful blue eyes, loving the way his eyelashes curled, like he was wearing mascara, but of course his were all natural. You feel suddenly embarrassed, like he can read your thoughts, which were opposite of what you were saying. He thinks you're the prettiest thing, soft full lips, all pouty. You had no idea what you were doing to him. Something about you.

Doesn't say anything, just crashes his soft, slightly chapped lips against yours in a much too rough and messy kiss, his tongue fat and thick, no time for you to think, invades your mouth, so hot it makes your head spin. Pulls you closer to him, helping you straddle his lap, instead of sitting across his thighs like you had been, but this position is dangerous. Too dangerous, you think, feeling the heat rushing over your body. His thighs so thick it’s making your legs open impossibly wide, exposing your most intimate parts to his greedy hands. He grinds against you, feeling your heat through his jeans. Your soft, pretty breath against his face. You whimper softly, already feeling like you could cum. He huffs and rests his forehead against yours, eyes so intense it gives you butterflies. Why did you invite him here? You decided a long time ago you weren’t sleeping with him, not because you didn't want him, oh you definitely wanted him, just thought maybe you'd lose your virginity to someone else, someone safer, yet here you are. You’re so dumb, thinking he actually just wanted to come over to see your record collection. How could you fall for that?

"Don't think, baby. Just feel." He suddenly says, voice so deep it sends a wave of electricity down your spine, tickling between your thighs. Can that happen, just with a voice? His thumb brushes over your plump bottom lip, tracing the natural curve.

"I don't know, Billy." Your palms against his hard pecs, barely pushing, barely holding him at bay.

"C'mon baby, don't be like that," he mumbles against your lips. "Wanna make you feel so good." His fingers grazing the damp cotton fabric of your panties. There's an explosion of pleasure running deep inside you. Your mouth open slightly, sending huffs of little breaths into his mouth.

"I want to... It's just, I'm just a little scared." You say. Not so much scared of having sex for the first time, but having with with him. He's a lot to take in, so beautiful, so strong, so much more experienced than you, you feel like you could never please him, how could you possibly, you’re so shy whenever he’s around. You feel so small, like you could get lost just being in the same room with him.

"Shhh, baby. I know you're scared, but I promise, sweetheart, gonna take real good care of ya." His fat hot tongue pushing into your mouth again before you have time to say anything. His thick fingers push your simple cotton panties aside and rub along your soaked slit. “Ohhh,” you moan against his lips. Jesus it feels nice. Too nice. You feel suddenly embarrassed, like he has too much control over you.

He groans at your sweet sounds. You have no idea how crazy you make him, how hard. "So fuckin' wet, baby. Little sexy cunt made just for my fingers?" His words felt lewd, nothing any guy has ever said to you before. You know you must be blushing. His thick middle finger slips inside your tight hole, pumping it in and out real slowly, but very deep. His thumb finds your clit and he rubs wide circles around your sensitive nub, making your hips buck softly. Feels so good you whimper. You’re so wet you can feel it against your thighs.

He swallows the soft little sounds you’re making. Those pretty little noises causing his dick to ache in his too tight Levis. Slowly he adds a second finger, he's impatient. Your pussy making these obscene sounds you can hear even over your Duran Duran record playing on the turntable. He moves his hand, his palm grinding against your clit now, gets his fingers in even deeper, his eyes focused on your pretty face, likes watching you. You're gorgeous. Never knew a girl this pretty before, and he knew a lot of pretty girls. His mouth hangs open, you can see his pink tongue and his perfect white teeth. How can one man be so perfect, so beautiful.

You grab his wrist weakly, "Too much!" You whine, so close to cumming you're afraid. Of course you have before, many times, but usually by yourself. Once with that dorky guy Sam in your Math class, but you basically made yourself cum that time, by rutting against him. He just sort of laid there. This was different though. No one had ever touched you like this before.

"I got you, sweetheart. Gonna feel so good." he murmurs. Something about his touch gentle, still fingering you deep though, his palm grinding harder against your aching clit. You don't want him to stop, you just feel a little overwhelmed, he's big, too much sometimes, thick fingers. Your body wants him desperately, your heart wants him even more, every part of you aches for him, to take from you what you have to offer him. Your innocence. His if he wants it, and you know he does, been begging you for it for weeks.

He can't help but moan, feeling your intense heat, imaging what it will be like when he gets his dick inside you. You’re so tight, feels like your pussy keeps pushing his finger out, but he just pushes in even deeper. Curls them softly, hitting that delicious spot deep inside you, a feeling you never knew existed. He’s biting and sucking on your neck, adding a third finger now, stretching you so nice.

"Slow down, Billy... please... too much" you whimper again. Never having three fingers inside you before, feels intense, in a good way, too good. You start to panic. Feels like you're losing control.

"Not gonna hurt you baby. Gonna make it so good for you." his fingers moving a little slower. His mouth back on yours. "So fuckin' sexy.” He mumbles into your mouth as he pulls the strap of your pretty sundress down with his unoccupied hand. Your beautiful tits bounce free. His face flushed and eyes hazy as he leans forward and takes your nipple into his mouth, wet sounds instantly coming from his sloppy lips as he sucks on you hungrily. This is too much, feels so good, you're so close. His fingers start moving faster inside your aching pussy. He pulls back from your nipple, string of spit connecting his mouth to you, his mouth hangs open a little, making a cute little O shape. His thumb back rubbing faster against your swollen clit. His eyes on yours until you see them go down to watch your tits bounce softly from the roughness of his fingers inside you. You're so beautiful it's hard for him not to just throw you down on the bed and fuck you senseless. Needs to hear you moan his name.

You moan loudly, seeing his pretty pink lips back on your tit, eyes closed, and feeling how deep his fingers are inside you, you lose it, arching your back, rutting against his thick digits, so deep the ring he wears on his middle finger is soaked with your juices. Your hungry pussy clenching around his pumping fingers as you cum.

"Fuck, yeah, baby. That's it." He growls, pumping even faster. "Cum on my fingers, love, such a sweet little pussy." He leans down, grabbing a nipple in his lips and suckles hard, his fat tongue flicking around the hard bud and he feels your walls flutter around his pumping fingers.

"Oh God, Billy!!" You scream, louder than you meant to, you don't even recognize your own voice. "Don't stop, please Billy." No one has ever done this to you, made you feel this way. Your fingers dig into his tan muscular shoulders, gripping the white tank top he's wearing and pulling at it awkwardly. "Billy...it's too much...ahhh." Your eyes rolling back, so lost in your own pleasure.

A slight smirk on his pretty face as he leans against your ear." You're fuckin' gorgeous like this." (he says your name).

Sure, he makes girls cum all the time, but this for some reason, this was the hottest thing he's ever seen, like he's watching a porno, just real. Pretty little thing, making pretty little sounds. The way your eyes flutter closed. Feels things for you. Some kind of ache in his chest. Slowly he eases his fingers out of you as you come down from your high, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean, closing his eyes like he's eating the most delicious honey. Needed to taste you. Has wanted to taste you for weeks now.

He grips your thighs and lifts you up effortlessly, like you weigh absolutely nothing, carrying you the short distance to your big bed. His face so handsome, you can't take your eyes off him, soft little freckles fall across his nose and cheeks, blonde curls bouncing on his forehead, everything about him is too beautiful to be real.

He takes a moment to take you in, sprawled out on your bed, hair all mussed up and spread across your pillows, cheeks flushed, lips pink and swollen from his rough kisses. "Fuck, baby, never seen anything so beautiful in my life." He confesses. Uses lines all the time on girls, but this isn't a line, he means it.

He stands at the edge of your bed, his eyes stay on you as he takes off his tank top. The cotton stretches over his muscular chest and back before he throws it behind him to the floor. He's like a god, tanned and sculpted, perfect specimen, covered in sweat, body glistening, you want to lick it all up. Lick every inch of him.

With a casualness, a lazy air, he undoes the button on his jeans, pushing down the zipper. Suddenly it feels like Christmas, waiting to open your presents. He slowly shimmies his jeans down, they get stuck on his thick thighs at first, before he finally kicks them off completely and flicks them to the floor.

He just stands there before you. Completely naked and unashamed. Like he does this everyday. He’s like no man you have ever seen. Yeah, sure you have seen naked men before, a few anyway, and that one time you saw a porno, but this, this was different. Billy was different. He just smirks and winks at you, tongue dances out of his mouth for a beat, licking at his bottom lip. He knows he looks good, stands there a minute letting you look him over. Soak it all in. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you are feeling a little shy, or maybe nervous, he’s not sure.

You heard the rumors but you weren't sure you believed them, but here it was jutting out at you, the prettiest thing, long, hard and thick, standing proud against his toned stomach. The head glistening with pre-cum. It’s big, real big. A little lighter than the rest of his tan body. You see the softest little bit of blonde curls running from his belly button down, so light you can barely see it against his tan skin. You didn't know Billy had a happy trail and the cutest little tan lines. You're so nervous. No way, never going to fit that thing inside you.

He slowly crawls over you. The heaviness of his body dipping the mattress slightly. He settles down between your spread thighs, one elbow beside your head, the other on his rock hard cock, rubbing it slowly up and down through the damp cotton of your panties. You're already so turned on you could cum again, but also so nervous you don't think you can do this. You’re trembling slightly. "You're so fuckin' beautiful." (he says your name), groaning softly.

"Billy, I don't know. I'm scared." you plead, hoping he's going to be gentle with you.

But before you can even finish your thoughts, your panties are being flung across the room and he’s pushing the fat head of his cock slowly into your wetness, instantly stretching you. "You can take it.” He murmurs, his voice so deep it rumbles in his chest. You swear it just gets deeper and deeper the more turned on he gets or maybe that's just how you hear it.

Your legs instantly close against his body. He feels you tense up. "It's okay, love, just relax for me." he murmurs in your ear, his voice soothing you and tickling your skin. You giggle, can't help it.

He rocks his hips slow, working his thickness deeper inside you. He closes his eyes, feeling your pretty pussy gripping him, you’re so hot and wet. "So tight baby, never felt anything so perfect in my life." He muses.

"Too big, Billy." is all you can say, your fingers digging into his biceps, nails pushing into his tough skin. You feel a burning sensation, but also something else, this intense pleasure like you've never felt before. Like you want nothing more than for him to push so deep inside you and take you right here, hard and fast.

He slides a hand to your face, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing softly over your plump lips, his gaze intense, eyes so blue, ocean eyes you think to yourself. "I promise I'll go slow, baby." he mumbles as he continues to rock his hips working a little more of his cock in, feeling your pussy fluttering, trying to pull him in deep.

He groans loudly against your ear as he feels your tight walls suddenly give way, his thick head pops inside your slick hole. Your legs opening wider for him. The feeling overwhelming you. His hand sliding down your body, fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it. "Mmm, that's it sweetheart, " he moans, jaw clenching as he struggles with himself not to just push himself deep inside you, the urge so strong. Needs to bury himself balls deep in this sweet virgin pussy, but you’re so beautiful, so sweet. Thinks he’s hooked on you. Likes you a lot, something about you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're doing so good. Taking my cock like a good girl." his voice rumbles against you. You are his. His good girl.

He feels you start to relax, grinning to himself as he rolls his hips, stretching you around his thick girth. "That's it baby, just like that. I wanna feel you pull me in deep." His mouth crashes into yours, tongue pushing into your hungry mouth, swallowing your happy screams. Your pussy gripping his so tight he's losing it. Starts fucking you faster, the bed moving across the wood of your floor, headboard hitting the wall. Your nails raking down his sweaty, muscular back, you feel it flexing as he fucks into you faster, hips snapping forward, driving in an out of your sweet pussy.

"Fuck Billy, Yes...oh GOD!! Fuck me Billy, please...feels so good! Don't stop!" You cry loudly, your voice filling the whole room. Your hips start moving, rising up to meet his deep thrusts. There's no more pain or burning, just an aching need that only Billy can fill. Your heart beating hard against your ribs, his curls tickling against your skin.

"Don't stop, Billy, please!" You beg him, your legs wrapped around him so tight, heels digging into his ass. You want him deeper, need him deeper, need more of him, all of him. Your arms holding onto him for dear life.

His need to pump every last bit of his cum deep inside you overwhelms him. Desperately wants to make this last, but your tight hot cunt feels so good. So perfect. Made just for him. He's going to cum, the feeling overwhelming him as he slams into you, his sweaty curls sticking to his neck. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" he chants under his breath as his balls tighten, his forehead against yours, his curls sweaty now, brush your cheek. Each drag of his thick length against your sensitive walls sends bolts of hot pleasure shooting through your entire body.

“Gonna cum, baby girl,” He warns you, hips fucking you desperately, chasing his rapidly approaching high. He can feel tightening in his heavy balls, burning pressure building at the base of his spine. He slams into you, buries himself balls deep as he cums, flooding your pussy with streams of hot cum. Everything around you disappears except him. You squeeze your arms and legs around him, holding him tightly against you. You moan as your pussy clamps down around his shaft, as your second high crashes over you. Your walls spasm and flutter. You're pussy like velvet, milking him for every bit of his hot cum. "FUCK, take it baby, take my fuckin' load! All for you, baby girl." A deep moan leaving his throat as you both cum together. Your pussy milking his cock for every last delicious drop. "Fill me up, Billy, fill my pussy." you cry out, eyes watering, overwhelmed with intense pleasure.

His thickness collapses heavily on top of you, his muscular, sweaty body pressing you into the soft mattress. You love feeling his weight and warmth against you, even in this summer heat. He grinds his hips against yours, working his sensitive, softening cock inside, an instinctive urge to push his load deeper inside you. Feels like an animal, filling you up, marking you as his. His girl.

He pants, struggling to catch his breath as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Smells so good, your soft perfume. Places tender kisses along your racing pulse, feeling it beneath his soft lips. “You were so fuckin' perfect, angel” he murmurs, his voice rough. He can feel the cool air hitting his sweaty back as he lies there on top of you, his heartbeat slowing down. He knows he should pull out, should use some common sense, also desperately needs a smoke, but for now, he just wants to stay buried inside your perfect heat, endorphins running through his body making him smile to himself. Doesn't ever cum inside girls, too smart for that, but you, well this feels different. Might regret it later, but he doubts he will.

Your heart is pounding too. You feel every inch of his muscular body pressed heavily against your soft curves. You never want him to get up. You brush your fingers through his sweaty curls. No way did you ever think you would let him cum inside you and now, here you lay, hoping he never pulls out.

He hesitates a moment, a war raging inside him. Every instinct, every habit, every past experience is screaming at him to pull out, to roll over, to leave as quickly as possible before things get too messy. That's what he's always done, what he's always had to do, to protect himself from getting too close to girls, from getting hurt. But as he looks at you, your eyes saying something, something that looks almost like love, he feels a strange tugging in his chest. He feels a sudden, overwhelming urge to stay, to hold you.

Instead of pulling away like he normally would, he surprises himself by doing the exact opposite. He shifts positions slightly, rolling you close into his arms. Tucks your head under his chin, cradling you against his chest as he settles back against the pile of pillows.

“Mmm that was really nice, Billy.” You mumble against his sweaty chest.

He reaches over to the nightstand, taking you with him, grabbing his pack of Marlboros and shaking one out of the pack. He places it between his lips, the unfiltered end dangling loosely as he settles back against the pillows again, cradling you back against his chest. “Yeah, real nice, baby.” Is all he says, taking a long, deep drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling slowly, the cloud billowing up towards the ceiling. The nicotine adding to his already relaxed state. His hand rubs soothing circles over your back. You feel so warm and cozy against him, your eyelids flutter and then close softly. You nuzzle closer, smell him, feeling safe and warm in his strong arms.

He takes another drag. He's never had anyone snuggle in his arms before. Not that girls haven't tried, they have. He just never wanted to linger around long enough to let them. But with you, it feels right, feels good. He doesn't know why. Takes a final pull of his cigarette before dunking it out in the glass of water by your bed.

You touch the chain that rests around his neck and this strange warmth spreads over him, doesn't get it, this sudden urge he has. Almost on impulse he reaches up and takes off the dangly silver and black earring he's wearing. Looks at it. Doesn't understand what he's about to do, just going on a feeling. Looks at your pretty face, your stunning doe eyes looking back at him, almost confused. He has this sudden urge to give you something of his, something just for you. Wants to see you walking around school wearing it, like you belong to him, like your his.

Slowly pushes your hair back away from your ear and carefully fastens the earring to your earlobe. The silver glints for a moment in the low lamplight of the room.

"What's this for?" You smile, touching the earring once it's in place. You're surprised. This isn't what you expected, although none of tonight is what you expected honestly. His fingers linger, thumb brushes over the silver, his blue eyes soft, warm, somehow different.

"Just somethin' for you babe, wanted you to have it." His hand slides down to your waist, squeezing it softly.

First time he's ever given someone a piece of jewelry, first time he's wanted to give someone something to show that they are his. He's not a sappy guy, never felt the need to bare his soul to anyone, especially not to a girl he just fucked, but there are feelings bubbling up in him that are a little foreign to him. Kind of felt it before tonight too. All those times he drove you home after school. Thought maybe he just wanted to fuck you. So why is he still feeling this way? The thought of getting too deep, or of letting someone in is terrifying. Can't say this stuff out loud, just squeezes your waist and kisses your mouth. That's the best he can do. Hoping you can feel his thoughts in that kiss and that small gesture, giving you a piece of himself, even if it's just a cheap piece of nothing. Hopes you understand what he means in that gesture. Hopes you can understand what he can't say.

[aemondsbabe]

Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

🖤 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym. 

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being. 

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present. 

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches. 

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back. 

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure. 

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back. 

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder. 

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor. 

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk. 

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache. 

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum. 

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?” 

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do. 

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done. 

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind. 

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes. 

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always. 

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so. 

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. 

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face. 

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances. 

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost. 

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone. 

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay. 

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.” 

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.” 

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to. 

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own. 

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush. 

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?” 

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface. 

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee. 

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?” 

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll. 

“Will you?”

“Not for you!” 

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses. 

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt. 

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?” 

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?” 

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours. 

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing. 

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again. 

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder. 

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder. 

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence. 

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.” 

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. 

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back. 

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym. 

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice. 

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.” 

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.  

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach. 

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers. 

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel. 

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner. 

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch. 

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this. 

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours. 

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest. 

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him. 

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would. 

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. 

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist. 

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee. 

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge. 

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible. 

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck. 

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up. 

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place. 

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.” 

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail. 

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain. 

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot. 

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head. 

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[bookshelf-dust]

you’ll find it in a dresser drawer

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @suledins

word count: 2,550

warnings: mainly fluff and romantic stuff, a little bit of suggestiveness at the start, playful banter/swearing/name-calling (it’s all out of love)

synopsis: on a journey to declutter your little home, you and billy find lots of memories on the past and sit down to reminisce.

a/n: my bestie girl @clovermunson put this idea into my head actual ages ago, and i finally managed to get it done!! besides, we could all use a little love and care right about now <33

————

“BILLY!”

The shower cuts off, leaving only the sound of water dripping from your loofah, down the ends of your hair. 

“Huh!” Billy shouts, already making his way towards the bathroom. He doesn’t need a verbal cue—the tone of your voice is enough. Each lilt you take on tells him what he’s walking into.

You’ve hastily wrapped a towel around your midsection, and he walks in on you waving your leg around in his direction. “I shaved my legs.”

Billy laughs heartily. He leans down, cupping the back of your calf with one hand so he can kiss the skin of your shin. “That’s what you were doin’ in here all this time? Thought maybe you were rubbin’ one out or something.” He winks, dragging his hand up your now very smooth leg. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let him lift you over the rim of the tub, setting you down securely on the bath mat. “You know I’m too loyal to the fancy shower head for all that manual labor.” You smack a sweet, slightly damp kiss on Billy’s lips. “But seriously, aren’t you impressed? I don’t remember the last time I shaved them.”

He drags his hand up your knee. “I’m so impressed. Even more that you managed to go without a nick.”

Your eyes crinkle up with the biggest smile, reserved just for him. “I know, right?” You lean your head back, allowing Billy to kiss at your shoulder where he’s been nosing at you this entire time. 

“Smell good,” he mumbles. 

“I used the same things as always, pretty.”

Billy’s thumb presses gently under your chin, molding you so he can kiss right where your collar bones meet. “Always smell good. Could eat you right up.”

“Maybe later?” you quip, sneaking out from his hold. He drags his gaze up your legs as you go. Six years in and he still looks at every part of you like it’s the first time. 

“No doubt, pretty girl. When you’re dressed you wanna help me with this box?”

“‘Course! I’ll just be a minute.”

The both of you have made it your mission to sort through every room in your little house. It’s not much, but there’s plenty of room and you take good care of it. Billy’s had more fun painting than he’d ever admit, and he helped you set up flower boxes so you had something to take care of. 

The lone hallway closet, the bane of your existence, was your last task. The one you’d been avoiding. A small, dark hell of clutter. Tubs full of trinkets and memories from you or Billy or both. Extra blankets, board games. Anything that didn’t have a home, or that you’d just rather not deal with on any given day. 

You slip on an oversized sweatshirt you’re sure you’ve had since college and a pair of Billy’s boxer shorts. He never wears this pair anyhow, and who are you to leave them gathering dust in the back of a dresser drawer.

Billy hears your bare feet pad against the hardwoods. You reach for a pillow, meaning to prop yourself up on it. 

Billy grunts. You look up, where he’s motioning towards his lap with his free hand. The one not flipping through what looks like a smaller box full of pictures. You comply, walking over to him. He reaches upward, big hands holding onto your hips as he coaxes you down between his legs, your back resting against his chest. 

“Hair smells good,” he mumbles, kissing the nape of your neck. He always tells you how good you smell. You never tell him that you always use the same things and, therefore, always smell the same. 

“Thank you,” you say. He pushes the thick cotton of your sweatshirt aside, the pilling fabric catching on his calloused fingertips. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and sets the material back where it was. 

Your teeth close around the inside of your cheek, hiding the giddy smile that threatens to appear. You lean forward just a bit, your gaze catching on a pile of photographs that look like they got developed and then set away, their finishes as pristine as if you’d just pulled them out of the paper envelope. 

You suck in a breath. Billy’s hand drags up and down your freshly shaved and moisturized knee fondly. 

“Are these the ones from the disposables?”

Billy grabs a handful of the glossy paper. “Think so. Remember you asked me to get them developed when we moved? So we didn’t take shit we didn’t need.”

“Yeah. I meant to buy an album for ‘em. Thought it seemed very grown up of us to have a photo book.” 

“Even more grown up to leave it disassembled.”

You gaze over your shoulder and lock eyes with Billy. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, the first signs of a laugh at the corners of his eyes. You snort.

You grab the photos from his hand, along with the rest, and shift so you can spread them out on the floor between you. The first thought that comes to mind is how your living room floor desperately needs a rug. But then you catch a glimpse of someone’s tummy against a bright, summer sky. 

Your index finger and thumb press against the corner of the paper, lifting it closer. It’s a picture of Billy and you at the beach, the date scrawled messily in his chicken scratch writing along the back: 07/26/91

In the photo, Billy stands under a tilted umbrella, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun, the other pointing at the camera. You remember now that he’d been trying to get you to look at Robin, because she was trying to take your picture. There’s a cocky smirk on his face and a smear of sunscreen on his neck. 

You’re wearing a pair of overalls, but one of the straps is falling down since they’re two sizes too big, your one piece swimsuit showing from underneath. The bottle in your hand and cream on your fingers all act as evidence towards your attempt to protect your boyfriend from the sun.

“I don’t remember Robin taking this,” you laugh, grinning up at Billy, more than pleased to know you have this moment captured forever. 

“I do,” Billy says, flipping the image over to look at the date he saw you glance at seconds before. “She took about a thousand pictures that day. I’m surprised there aren’t more. And I remember writing this when it got printed.”

He turns it toward you once again, pointing out a small line of script at the bottom you’d failed to see before. My pretty girl, it reads. 

You lean forward and kiss him, squeezing his cheeks between your hands because you know he hates it when you do but he looks too damn cute to resist.

There’s a couple of photos mixed in that are older—some from high school, a few baby pictures. You snag one of Billy from prom.

“This Billy would never have been such a sap.” 

He glances at the picture. He’d rented a tux. Worn a red button up underneath it. No tie, no corsage or anything. He wasn’t going to go, but he got in his car about half an hour after it started and drove himself there because you’d mentioned you were going with a couple of friends. 

“That’s because he also kinda had a stick up his ass,” Billy mumbles, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. 

“Even a cute ass like that couldn’t repel that big ‘ol stick.” You wink, looking at the other prom pictures. Billy pinches your thigh but it only makes you chuckle.

There’s a strip of you and Robin from the photo booth, her hair all frizzy, your forehead glistening with sweat. One awkward picture of you and Billy in front of the pitiful backdrop the student council had put together. Both of your smiles are soft, but it’s obvious neither of you were really comfortable with one another yet. What with the way his hand sits on your rib cage, one of yours on his hip and the other hidden in the tulle of your dress. 

“You know I bought my first push-up bra for that night?”

Billy’s trademark cocky grin appears. “What?”

“I had Robin help me pick out a push-up bra because I was hoping to impress you. I thought maybe if my boobs looked good you’d think I was hot and we could be more than classroom friends. The bra ended up leaving my ribs sore for days after, but my boobs did look good.”

Billy looks pointedly at your boobs in the photo. “They really did. But I already thought you were hot. Why else would I have come in the first place?”

You blink at him. “I dunno, to do like, anything else?” He laughs at your remark. “I figured you wanted to party afterwards or that maybe there was a girl you wanted to see afterwards.”

Billy holds up a photo of you at your college graduation. He cried that day, watching you walk. He thinks you don’t know, but you could tell. 

“I did. She’s right in front of me.”

He passes you a picture from Halloween two years ago. You were Tiffany Valentine and he was Charles Lee Ray. It was much easier to convince Billy to wear a trench coat and go without shaving for a few days than to even attempt putting him in a Chucky costume. 

“Quit fuckin’ with me, baby. You did not want me when we were in high school. Don’t you remember how awkward I was every time we worked on something together?”

Billy leans forward, his lips hovering inches from yours. “You weren’t awkward. I just saw a girl I would’ve sold my soul for because she was so perfect.” He laughs when you try to pull away from his kiss, a result of that cheesy line. You kiss him back all the same.

“You realize we’re not sorting through this box at all?” You say, that matter of fact tone in your voice. “We’re reminiscing. Let’s set the photos aside and finish, yeah? Then we can put them into albums.”

Billy gives you a two finger salute. “Yes ma’am.”

The both of you spend the next few minutes sorting. There’s receipts from years past, piles of number two pencils left from college, stray earring backs, a couple scraps of fabric from when you’d tried to take up sewing. You even find a couple of textbooks—some possibly stolen from the library of Hawkins High School—Billy’s birth certificate, a spare key to his car. 

Just when you reach the bottom, you spot a little wooden box. You’re not sure what it is, but based on the size you’d guess it might be for trinkets or it could have had Billy’s college ring in it. 

You glance over your shoulder at him where he’s sorting through a stack of papers, every once in a while scratching the tip of a pen against a spare piece to see if it’s got ink in it. You don’t think he’s paying you any mind. 

You place your thumb nail under the ledge of the box where it has the smallest groove in it where it’s meant to be opened. You open it haphazardly, with a sharp snap as the hinge widens. 

Your breath catches when your thumb grazes velvet and you realize there’s something inside. You’re too curious, too focused, to notice that Billy has moved closer to you, that he’s now watching your face for any emotion you might show, his own heart smacking against his ribcage. 

He thought this was a clever way to do it. The least stressful one he could think of, anyhow. He knows you don’t like much spectacle and figured keeping it intimate like this would be best for both of you, really.

The box opens with a small click and your eyes start to go all teary, despite the fact that you haven’t registered what’s happening or even looked at Billy or even looked at the damn thing you’re holding. 

The ring is simple: it’s thin silver, with a small, diamond shaped emerald front and center, the prongs and basket twisting gently so that it almost looks like they’re hugging the stone. It’s not too much, but it’s gorgeous. It’s you. Unmistakably. 

You turn to look at Billy. He smiles at you, his eyes all gentle.

“You fucking dickhead,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. He laughs. 

His hand comes to rest on your cheek, thumb caressing away any stray tears. He’s doing his best not to cry himself. “What do you think, huh?” 

You look down at the ring and back at him. Down and back at him. “It’s so pretty.”

“Fitting for such a pretty girl,” Billy says. You’d smack him if you weren’t so busy crying. He gently removes it from your hand, holding it out to you. 

“So, babydoll, how’d you feel about marrying me?”

Your eyes flick back and forth between his. You let out a giggle. “You’re not on one knee, Billy.”

He shifts awkwardly into the “proper” position and you both stare at each other, the beginnings of a hysterical laughing fit on either of your faces. You’d think someone had just made a “your mom” joke—not that you were being proposed to. 

A tear chooses that moment to escape your lash line. 

“I bought this for you about a week ago,” Billy starts. “I couldn’t have it too long because I knew I’d have a panic attack. I went to four different jewelry stores until I saw this one. I remembered, when Robin proposed to her girlfriend, that you said you’d always loved emeralds. Thought diamonds were overrated. And you always gravitate towards that color stuff in the store, y’know?”

“Like that dress you bought on sale for your birthday or the blanket for the couch. I’m hoping you’ll like this one.” He looks down at the ring and back up at you. “I love you, you know that? I know you know that. And I think lately I’ve just realized that I shouldn’t wait for good shit to go down. I don’t need to, especially when I can make it happen.”

“I want you for the rest of forever. Me and you. So really, what do you think? You wanna marry me?”

You blink at him. “Dunno. Jury’s out. Could take a while to reach a verdict.” 

He laughs into your hair, one arm wrapping around the small of your back, the other cradling your head. This feeling right here, of being held, is something you’ll never get over. The way his body feels wrapped around yours. A lifetime of this safety? Duh. 

You slide your hand under his shirt and gently scratch his back. His skin is always so warm. 

“Of course I do, you fucking dumbass,” you mutter, watery eyes overtaking your every sense. Then you kiss him on the cheek and whisper into his ear, “Honestly kinda felt like we were married already anyhow. Now I just have a pretty token of your affection, too.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

rb banner by @steph-speaks

[dckweed]

Can I request a story about going to a party with Billy and he gets like superrrrr wasted and really touchy and clingy to his girlfriend xx

not me finding this buried in my drafts

warnings: slight groping? drunk billy

CLINGY BOY, billy hargrove

The music is loud, the bass vibrating through the floor as bodies press together in the humid, smoke-filled air of the party. You’re used to these kinds of nights with Billy—fast cars, reckless laughter, and parties where he soaks up attention like it’s his lifeline. But tonight, he’s already a few drinks past tipsy, and you can tell by the way he’s all over you.

Billy has always been touchy, but when he’s drunk? It’s a whole different level.

His arm is wrapped tight around your waist, fingers digging into your hip as he tugs you closer. You’re standing in the crowded kitchen, trying to grab a drink, but he’s making it difficult. His lips are at your ear, breath hot and heavy as he slurs, “You’re so fuckin’ hot, babe. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Billy, you’re wasted.”

He groans dramatically, nuzzling into the curve of your neck. “Don’t care,” he mumbles. “Just wanna touch you.”

And he does. His hands wander over your thick thighs, up your waist, and settle on your ass, giving it a squeeze that earns him a glare from the guy trying to get past you in the cramped kitchen. You roll your eyes and swat his hand, but he just smirks, completely unbothered.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” you tease, even as warmth creeps up your neck.

“Don’t care,” he says again, grinning lazily. “Love this ass.”

You try to pull away, but Billy whines—actually whines—and grips your hips tighter. “Stay,” he pleads, leaning his forehead against yours. His curls are damp with sweat, and there’s a sheen of alcohol-induced heat on his tanned skin. His blue eyes, usually sharp and full of mischief, are heavy-lidded as they roam your face. “Hate when you’re not touching me.”

You sigh but smile despite yourself. “You’re such a needy drunk.”

He pouts—an honest-to-god pout—before wrapping his arms around you and practically lifting you onto the counter so he can wedge himself between your thick thighs. “Yeah? And you love it,” he smirks, hands running up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh like it’s his favorite thing in the world.

You exhale sharply when his fingers sneak under the hem of your dress, dangerously close to making a scene in front of the entire party. “Billy,” you hiss, slapping his hand away.

He huffs, resting his head against your chest, his big hands still holding onto your thighs possessively. “Just wanna be close to you,” he murmurs, voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “You’re so warm.”

You run your fingers through his curls, letting him nuzzle against you. It’s moments like this that remind you Billy isn’t just all bravado and attitude—he’s just a boy who wants to be loved. And, god help you, you love him.

“You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He hums contentedly, arms tightening around you. “Don’t care,” he says for the third time that night. “Long as you’re there when I wake up.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart clenches in your chest. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home, clingy boy.”

He grins against your skin, slurring, “Only if you cuddle me.”

You sigh dramatically, already knowing you’re going to give in. “Fine, but you owe me breakfast.”

Billy lifts his head, grinning like he just won the lottery. “Deal.”

And with that, you help your drunken, touchy boyfriend stumble out of the party, knowing damn well he’s going to be an absolute mess tomorrow—but he’s your mess, and that’s all that matters.

The next morning, you sit across from Billy in a diner, sipping on your milkshake as he slumps against the window, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking like death itself. He’s barely alive, nursing a cup of coffee as if it holds the meaning of life, and he grumbles under his breath every few minutes, probably cursing himself for drinking so much.

Meanwhile, you’re wide awake, babbling away about all the gossip you picked up at the party. “And you won’t believe this—Steve and Nancy? Back together. Can you imagine? After all that drama?”

Billy hums noncommittally, rubbing his temple. His other hand rests on your thick thigh, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles as he lets you talk. He’s not really listening, but he knows better than to complain—this is his price to pay for being the clingiest drunk in Hawkins.

You poke his arm playfully. “Are you even listening?”

Another low hum. “Mhm.”

Rolling your eyes, you take another sip of your milkshake. “You’re just mad Steve’s still winning at life.”

Billy finally cracks an eye open from behind his sunglasses, smirking lazily. “The only thing I care about winning is you,” he rasps, giving your thigh a firm squeeze under the table.

You roll your eyes again, but your cheeks warm as he grins at your reaction. He may be a pain in the ass, but he’s your pain in the ass.

“Drink your coffee, clingy boy,” you mutter, and he just hums, rubbing your leg as he accepts his fate—hungover, at your mercy, and completely, hopelessly yours.

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

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

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

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

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

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

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

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

"You sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

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

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

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

"I mean - "

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

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

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

"No," Lawrence looked down.

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

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

"No? Why?"

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

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

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

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

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

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

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

"What if their man isn't here?"

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

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

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

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bitch has it coming!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm so sorry."

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

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

"Huh?"

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," he breathed.

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

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

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

"Yeah, that's her."

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

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

"You did tonight."

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

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

"Like you?"

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

"I'm still sorry..."

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

You only sniffled.

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

"Hell happened to you, man?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Billy raced back to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

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

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

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

Then he asked, "When?"

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

"Kid - "

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

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

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

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

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

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

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

"All cops like him?"

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

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

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

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

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Bee?"

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

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

"Huh?"

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

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

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

"Billy."

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

"Bullshit."

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

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

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

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

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

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

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

"William!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, don't - "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We good?" You whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He has one in two weeks."

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

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

"I've always been."

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

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

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[buckysgrace]

Need me a cake cone

With PB&J/hot honey

And some some whip cream please 😩😩

🍦🍆

Yay yay yay, I hope you enjoy!! <3 Requests from here :)

CW: Breeding kink, unprotected sex

Your back throbbed from the belt buckle digging into your flesh, surely leaving an imprint from your roughly you were pressed down into the seats. The windows were fogged, air humid as the moon pelted the blue Camaro. 

The woods were oddly calming tonight, swaying back and forth gently as if they were reaching for one another. It was just enough to hide the two of you away, blissfully hiding your little secret away from everyone else. 

Billy’s nose was dragging against the side of your neck, rough pants falling onto your sweaty skin as he guided your body along the curve of his thick cock. He moved you easily, his strong hands digging into your flesh as your cunt squelched along his girth. 

His weight was heavy on top of you, chest pressed against yours as he dragged his cock in and out of your weeping walls. Your moans filled the car, louder than the music that he had been playing earlier. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, teeth grazing your skin as your nails raked down the length of his back. He groaned harder, snapping his hips deeper into you. His heavy balls smack against your slippery flesh, soaked from your leaking cunt, “such a good little whore for me. Look at you, taking my cock so well.”

Moans rolled off of your tongue as you moved your hips to his same motions, savoring the way your walls stretched along his thick cock. You could feel every curve and ridge against your soaked cunt as he continually huffed, breath hot against your neck. 

“Gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.” He spit out roughly, dark eyebrows furrowing together as he looked down at you. His dirty blonde hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead, lips red from where he’d been licking them. His blue eyes were dark, swimming with lust and want as he stared down at you intensely. 

“Please, please.” You pleaded with him, insides twisting at the thought of being filled to the brim with his spunk. You rutted your hips up desperately, mind swirling in pleasure as your clit throbbed with anticipation. Your legs were quivering, muscles tightening as you felt your high growing deep inside of you. 

“Yeah, that's what you want?” he grunted, voice raspy as he rutted his cock deeper inside of you, “want my cum inside that slutty cunt?” He grumbled, flicking his tongue across his bottom lip as he looked down at where his cock had disappeared inside of your pussy.

You continued to moan, whimpers falling free at the rough way he was dragging your body along the length of his dick. The movement of his hips were intense, rough as he buried himself deeper inside of you. His tip was pressing against your bundle of nerves, spreading an intense spark through your body.

“Yeah, yeah!” you cried out, mouth parted as you looked up at him blissfully. Your nails were so deep into his skin that you were sure you were leaving marks, just like he would surely bruise your hips with how harshly he was gripping you, “wanna feel you cum inside me so badly. Give it  to me, please, please.” You pleased, heart hammering roughly inside of your chest.

He laughed lowly as he looked down at you, head tilted and blue eyes filled with admiration. You crooned, tilting your chin up until you met his lips. The pleasure pooled deep inside of you as you crashed your mouth against his, tongue flicking out to scrape against the roof of his mouth. You enjoyed the taste of mint and cigarettes, needed more of it.

His groans vibrated across your skin as he curled his tongue against your own, sliding them together as his cock throbbed inside of your slick walls. You whimpered, fingers twisting into his mullet as the pleasure pulsed inside of you. 

“Want me to knock you up? Make you mine?” He groaned roughly, eyes hazy as you dug your heels into his flesh. You nodded your head urgently, crying out as you felt your orgasm building inside of you.

“Cum inside me, Billy,” you pleaded with him, gasping as the sound of his cock sliding into your cunt filled the car, “please, please. Fuck!” You cursed, toes curling as you felt the pleasure inside of you snapping apart.

You cried out as you came, tossing your head back as you rutted your hips against him mindlessly. Your body twitched, clit throbbing as your high pulse through you. You felt like you were floating, only being steadied by his rough hands against your skin.

“Fuck,” he cursed as his movements became slower, his muscles flexing as he bottomed out inside of you. His balls slid against your skin, warm and heavy as his cock twitched inside of your warm cunt, “mhm, just like that. Look at you.” He cooed, cheeks flushed as he came inside of you.

You gasped at the feeling of his spunk coating your walls, filling you to the brim as rough pants left his lips. You sighed blissfully, fingers relaxing through his hair as you looked down at the way your pussy squeezed his cock. You chewed on your bottom lip, savoring that image.

“So pretty,” he teased as he sat up a bit, brushing his calloused hands across your thighs, “maybe it stuck this time.” He smirked, smacking your skin a second later. 

[writing-the-stars]

Bambi's Game

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader, Nancy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Shy and careful, you’ve never been the type of girl who stands out — until Billy Hargrove, the cocky heartbreaker of Hawkins High, notices you. After a fleeting encounter at a party, his obsession with you becomes personal, and suddenly you’re caught in a dangerous game of push and pull.

Warnings: Angst (But I feel like it's actually barely there), Mature Language, Cliché, Flirtation and Sexual Tension (It's Billy Hargrove, Duh), Self-Doubt and Identity Struggles, Slow-Burn. Let Me Know If I Forgot Anything

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I like my men with a taste of danger and I am such a bad boy apologist, so I'm super excited about this Billy fic. It is very cliché, but I like that. Things are cliché for a reason. Anyway, thank you so much for reading. I hope you all and enjoy and that you have a wonderful remainder of your day.

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

Part Two: You Didn’t Say No

 You shouldn’t be here.

That much is obvious by the way you’re cowering by the back wall of Tina’s party, clinging to your Red Solo for dear life. You’ve been slowly sipping the sugary drink ever since you got here — the ice has long since melted, leaving it flat and watery — but it’s your only shield against the pressure to drink something stronger. It’s not that you don’t drink — you’ve definitely had your fair share of wine coolers — but tonight isn’t the night to lose control. Not here. Not with these people. 

You hate parties like this. They’re loud, messy, and filled with people you don’t know or don’t care to know. You’re always just… there. No one really notices you. No one really cares.

A Blondie song pulses through the speakers — synthy and loud enough to drown out your thoughts. The air is thick with a sickly mix of beer, sweat, and cigarette smoke that clings to your clothes and makes your nose wrinkle.

You definitely were not meant to be here.

You had only come for Nancy because you do whatever she asks of you. Ever since Barb’s disappearance, she’s been clinging to pieces of her old life, trying to stitch something familiar out of whatever is left. You’re one of those pieces.

So when she asked — guilted really — you to tag along, you couldn’t deny her. She swore you’d only stay an hour. Tops. But now she’s vanished into the crowd with Steve and taken the car keys with her. Your ride is gone, your buffer is gone, and you’re honestly tempted to just say fuck it and walk home. 

You’ve held up your end of the bargain.

You swallow the rest of your pathetic soda, about to leave when he walks in.

Billy Hargrove.

The name alone makes your stomach flip. You can feel the temperature shift in the room. Everyone just… moves aside for him. Makes space. Even the loudest parts of the party seem to quiet down when he enters, like everyone can sense the chaos he brings with him.

Shirt unbuttoned halfway like it’s his party. Cigarette tucked behind his left ear, rings glinting on his fingers. He moves like he owns the room — like he owns everything. Eyes scanning the crowd, slow and lazy, like he’s hunting. And then those blue eyes find you. 

You freeze. 

Your first instinct is to look away and your neck twinges with the effort. But it’s too late. He’s seen you.

You felt it. The moment his attention clicked into place — hot and heavy. A smirk already curling at the edge of his mouth.

You know that smirk. You’ve seen it on him enough times to know it means trouble.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, panic threading through your chest. Your heart kicks into high gear. You shouldn’t have come. You knew he’d be here. Why did you let Nancy talk you into this?

You swallow hard, trying to make your legs move. You should just walk away, get out of his sight. Disappear into the crowd. But his presence is closing in on you​​, looming, like a shadow falling over everything.

“Hey, Bambi,” he drawls, voice smooth and slow, soaked in confidence. “Looks like someone wandered into the wrong forest.”

​​There’s something about it — like someone dragging velvet across bare skin. Something dangerous underneath all that ease. You feel your cheeks burn, the nickname already settling deep inside you.

You turn — because you have to — and there he is. Hawkins High’s resident heartbreaker. Beautiful. Arrogant. Bored.

“And you must be the wolf that thinks he’s charming,” you shoot back before you can think better of it.

Crap. Why did you say that?

You barely recognize your own voice. It comes out sharper than you intended, like you’re trying to hide behind something. You want to shrivel up. But Billy laughs — actually laughs — a low sound, amused, like you’ve surprised him. And it makes your pulse race. You weren’t expecting that. 

“Oh, I like you.” He says it slowly, like he’s savoring the words. His eyes roam, but not in the gross, lecherous way most guys do. It’s focused. Intense. Like he’s really seeing you. 

The thought causes your heart to hammer in your chest. 

“What’s your name again?”

You stare at him, unimpressed. He should know your name. You have two classes together. You’ve shared a lunch table, sat behind him at assemblies, stood near him at the lockers. He should definitely know your name, but of course he doesn’t. Why would he?

You exist in the periphery of his world, and he’s never once noticed.

You mutter your name, quick and low, but he catches it anyway. He repeats it, like he’s trying it on his tongue. Like he wants to remember how it sounds in his mouth. It sends a strange chill down your spine. He makes your name sound different. Like he’s taking possession of it, somehow.

 Then, he dismisses it, saying “I think I like Bambi better.”

You roll your eyes, but feel your stomach do a humiliating flip. And you hate that. Hate that his stupid, cocky grin — the one he uses to get cheerleaders in his backseat and girls to come completely undone — actually works. You despise it. 

Because of course it does. Billy Hargrove is beautiful in that reckless kind of way. He’s sharp and dangerous. Pretty in the way fire is as it eats through the world. The kind of boy your mom warned you about.

And for just a moment, you wonder what it would feel like to let yourself fall into that gaze. To stop analyzing and second-guessing and controlling everything. To just melt into the attention he’s offering so freely.

But you know better.

Billy doesn’t see girls like you — not really. He flirts. He conquers. He forgets.

You’ve seen him do it a hundred times. You’ve heard the way he talks about girls like they’re trophies, disposable. You don’t want to be another notch on his belt. You don’t want to be a story he tells later.

So you do the only thing that feels like control.

You walk away.

Your heart pounds like crazy, hands shaking a little as you put your cup down and grab your jacket from the nearby couch. You don’t look back. You don’t give him the satisfaction. 

But if you did?

You’d see Billy watching you, eyebrows raised, lips parted in disbelief.

No one denies Billy Hargrove.

Except you just did.

And now?

He’s interested. 

-*-

You and Nancy walk shoulder to shoulder down the hallway, her voice humming in your ear as she talks about something — probably her lit essay — but you’re not really listening. You nod when appropriate, offer the occasional “Mm-hmm”, but your mind keeps wandering back to Friday night,  the memory of it simmering uncomfortably beneath your skin. You’ve replayed it a dozen times in your head — the way his voice dipped when he said your name, the way his eyes dragged across you like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to.

It didn’t mean anything. You know that.

Billy Hargrove flirts with anything in a skirt. You’ve watched him wrap girls around his finger like it’s no big deal — because to him, it isn’t. You're not special. You're just new.

And yet…

It felt like something.

You shake the thought off, telling yourself to stop being ridiculous. Yet, you find your eyes wandering, scanning the crowd for the denim-clad devil. Not that you're necessarily looking for him.

You're just… making sure he’s not around.

You round the corner, Nancy still talking at your side, when you see him, leaning against a row of lockers. Your row of lockers.

You freeze for half a second. Your stomach flips.

He’s standing in your space, boots crossed like he’s been waiting on you, and for one crazy second, you think maybe he has.

That thought sends a surge of panic down your spine, and you immediately try to steer Nancy the other way, subtly tugging her sleeve and veering left. But it’s too late. He spots you. 

“Hey Bambi.”

That voice. That lazy drawl, so smooth, so sure of itself, like he already knows how this is going to play out. And then, that nickname… Bambi. It slithers down your spine like warm honey, and you hate that it still makes you shiver.

Nancy falters beside you, her voice higher than normal.  “…Did he just call you Bambi?”

You groan under your breath and pick up your pace, hoping if you ignore him, he’ll get bored.

He doesn’t.

Billy peels away from the lockers as if gravity has no claim to him. He moves with that effortless confidence, like everything he does is deliberate. And for some reason, that makes your insides twist even more.

“What, you’re not gonna say hi? That’s rude, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, desperately trying to push the heat from your cheeks. Your heart’s racing. Nancy’s head whips toward you. “Sweetheart?” she repeats, the incredulity in her voice making your stomach churn.

You’re actively dying. Right here. In the middle of the hallway. 

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you mumble quickly, hoping that if you downplay it, she’ll drop the topic. But of course, she doesn’t.

“Since when do you talk to Billy Hargrove?” she asks, whisper-shouting. “What happened at Tina’s party? You said it was boring!”

“It was!”

You say it too quickly. Too defensively. Nancy catches it immediately.

Billy’s matching your stride effortlessly, like you belong beside him. Like this is something you’ve been doing all along. Something you’ve shared. Your stomach does that awful flip again, that stupid mix of dread and something that feels a little too close to anticipation.

“Aw, come on. Don’t be shy now,” he teases, his voice dipped in that fake innocence you can’t quite buy. “I thought we had a moment.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “You also think sporting denim makes you look like a member of The Outsiders,” you quip. 

Nancy gasps softly, eyes wide. Her hand flies to her mouth as if she’s just witnessed a catastrophe. “Oh my God.” 

Billy grins like you just kissed him.But it’s not just the grin. It’s the way he looks at you now, like you’ve caught his attention in a way no one else has. He leans in a little, his eyes gleaming with approval. “Feisty,” he says, voice low and hungry, like he’s enjoying this far too much.

Your stomach turns over in that weird way it always does when he’s close. It’s not just embarrassment anymore. It’s… something else. Something unfamiliar and unsettling.

Why does he like that you talk back? Why isn’t he brushing you off already, moving on to someone easier? Someone with more makeup and less hesitation? Someone who wants this.

You stop abruptly at your locker, spinning the dial with more force than necessary. You focus on the numbers, trying to keep yourself grounded, trying to ignore the way your heart is still pounding. Nancy is practically vibrating beside you, her eyes wide with questions she won’t let go of. You can feel her eyes drilling into the side of your face, waiting for the answers you don’t have.

You don’t know what’s happening. But somehow, you feel like Billy knows exactly what’s happening. And you can’t make sense of it.

“Seriously,” she whispers. “What is happening?”

You glare at her. “Nothing. He’s messing with me.”

You don’t let yourself look at Billy, even though you know he’s still standing right there. Watching you.

“You wound me, Bambi. And here I thought we were building something real.”

You slam your locker shut and grab your books like armor. This has to end.

“We’re going to class. Now.”

You tug Nancy by the wrist, trying to escape whatever weird flirtation-parade this is. 

You shouldn’t look back. You know that.

But you do. Just once.

And there he is — still standing where you left him, watching you go. Smirking. But it’s different this time.

He’s not amused.

He’s not smug.

He’s interested.

-*-

You’re barely two steps into the restroom after class before Nancy swings the door shut behind you with a bang.

"Okay," she says, folding her arms, giving you the look. "What was that?"

You blink at her in the mirror, trying to feign innocence. "What was what?"

She doesn’t dignify that with a response — just arches an eyebrow and purses her lips, waiting for you to cut the crap. 

You sigh and turn to face her fully. "I don’t know. Nothing."

Which is a lie. A big one. And you're both aware of it.

Nancy steps closer. Her voice lowers a notch, teasing but edged. "He called you Bambi. Twice.”

You roll your eyes. "He calls everyone something. It’s just a stupid nickname."

“Yeah,” Nancy says, narrowing her eyes. “But you didn’t hate it.”

Your face burns instantly. Mortified. You want to deny it, but it’s too late. Your reaction says it all.

"I did hate it," you stammer.

"You blushed."

“I did not!” You hope your protest sounds convincing, but it’s a weak defense. And she’s not buying it.

Nancy smirks. “You did. Right here.” She taps your cheek lightly, like a detective closing in on her suspect.

And she’s right. You both know it. You did like it. Much to your chagrin. You liked the way he said it — like he named you. Like you were something he was claiming, or maybe just starting to notice. Something worth paying attention to.

And that — that’s the part that really messes with your head.

Because it’s not just about Billy Hargrove looking at you. It’s about what that look made you feel. What it stirred up inside of you. The thing you never thought would happen.

That someone like him could want someone like you.

You can still feel the heat in your cheeks, the flutter in your chest. It is aggravating. 

"And don’t even get me started on the way he looked at you." Nancy’s voice is a little too delighted now. "Like he found a new toy he wasn’t allowed to touch."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Please don’t analyze this.”

"I mean, he was flirting with you. Billy freakin’ Hargrove. Actual cigarette mascot and heartbreaker-in-chief. And you held your ground." 

Nancy pauses, eyes thoughtful now instead of teasing. “You were kind of badass, actually.”

You peek at her through your fingers, caught off guard. “Really?”

She shrugs, leaning a hip against the sink. “Look, he’s still the worst. But that whole scene? Total power move.”

Power move. The idea is almost laughable. You were barely holding it together. Your heart had been trying to pound its way out of your chest the whole time. You’d thought you were going to pass out in front of everyone. And Billy…

Billy looked like he was enjoying himself. Like he could see straight through you — through the panic, the denial, the blush. Like he was testing you, to see how long you'd last. To see just how much you’d take before you crumbled.

You lower your hands. "I wasn’t trying to pull a power move. I was just trying not to have a panic attack."

Nancy smiles, softening. "Well, for what it’s worth, I think you might’ve fried his brain."

You snort, trying to suppress the warmth flooding your chest. "Good. Maybe it’ll stop him from bothering me again."

Nancy nudges your arm lightly, the grin on her face a little too knowing. "You want him to bother you again."

You freeze. 

Do you?

It shouldn’t even be a question. He’s every bad decision wrapped in denim and cigarette smoke. He’s cocky, reckless, way too used to girls melting at his feet. You’re not supposed to want him. You’re supposed to be smarter than that. You are smarter than that. Right?

The heat of his body just inches from yours. The way his voice curled around your name, like he was trying it out, seeing how it felt in his mouth. The look in his eyes — hungry and amused, like you were a puzzle he hadn’t solved yet.

And for a split second, it didn’t feel like a threat. It felt like attention. Focused and sharp and entirely on you. It made your skin prickle. Made your breath hitch. Made you feel seen. And not in a way you’re used to.

But you don’t say that. You can’t.

Instead, you shake your head, trying to force the thoughts out. "He’s just another guy who thinks he can have anything he wants."

"And you told him no," Nancy says, her tone matter-of-fact. “That’s kind of rad.”

You glance at your reflection in the mirror. Your face is still flushed. Your heart is still racing. And somewhere under all the nerves and confusion… you feel something else.

Pride.

Maybe a tiny bit dangerous.

You’ve never felt dangerous before. But maybe… maybe you could get used to it.

Nancy nudges your arm again, grinning, a little too smug now. "C’mon, badass. We’re late for chem."

-*-

The house is still. Your room is quiet. The window’s cracked open just enough to let the cool night breeze in, soft against your skin.

It’s late — not too late — but the house is quiet in that specific way it only gets after dinner dishes are done and your mom and sister retreat to their separate corners of the house.

Echo and The Bunnymen’s The Killing Moon plays softly on your Walkman, the melancholy synths bleeding into the air like a soundtrack to your thoughts. You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, a worn notebook open in your lap, pen tapping against the edge of the page like it’s supposed to summon brilliance.

But it’s been ten minutes, and you’re stuck on the same equation.

You sigh, dropping your pencil and pushing the notebook out of your lap.

Your eyes wander toward the window. It’s dark outside, that quiet, empty blackness that makes Hawkins feel smaller than usual. As though the night could swallow it all up — like there’s nothing beyond the trees but more darkness.

You should be thinking about valence electrons. You should be focused, responsible, anything but this.

But your brain — traitorous thing that it is — keeps drifting back to him.

Billy Hargrove.

Your pulse stutters at the thought, like a glitch in your otherwise orderly brain.

You’re not used to being the center of anyone’s attention, let alone someone like him. No one ever looks at you like that. Not the way Nancy gets looked at. Or Carol. Or Tina.They have something you’ve never had: an edge.

You’ve always been soft-spoken. Careful. The kind of girl people overlook until they need help with their notes. So why did he notice you?

And why can’t you stop wondering what it means?

The nickname. The look in his eyes when they dragged over you, like he could see through the walls you’ve spent years building around yourself. The way he smirked when you walked away — not like he’d won, but like he’s waiting. Like he’s expecting to see you again.

You exhale slowly, closing your eyes to shut out the images, but they only get stronger. 

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That it shouldn’t. That he’s just another guy with too much swagger and not enough sense. That you’ve seen his type before and you’re not interested.

But your body betrays you. Your pulse picks up, heart beating faster. There’s something deep inside you, a pull, an undeniable tug that you can’t ignore.

You press your fingers to your cheeks, still warm from the memory of his gaze.

Still remembering.

You shake your head like it’ll help — like you can shake away the way his eyes made you feel. You’re not going to be one of those girls. The kind who fall for trouble just because it calls their name. You refuse to be that cliché.

Even if deep down, a reckless, traitorous part of you already is.

You don’t know what this thing with Billy is. You don’t even know if it is a thing.

But you feel it. You can’t escape it. You feel it buzzing under your skin like electricity.

And for the first time in a long while, you feel seen.

Even if it’s by the wrong person.

If you want to be a part of my tag list, please submit an ask specifying series, fandom, or all and I will happily add you (If you don’t specify, I’ll just assume you want to be on the general list)!

[kuruptt]

BILLY HARGROVE X READER

That’s My Girl. Pt.1

Here's a little something while you wait for part 5 of 'You're Mine, You Know That.' This new fic actually goes back to the beginning, showing you how (Y/N) moved to Hawkins to be with Billy, which is before all the events in my previous fics. Enjoy!

Pt.2 out now!

**SUMMARY - A year after separating from Billy and settling into a new relationship, a call from Max changes everything. Her desperate plea to save Billy reignites old feelings, hinting at a reunion you've been waiting for, forcing you to confront where your heart truly belongs. Angry Billy, Soft Billy, Possessive Billy, Flayed Billy (only for a short while).

**TRIGGER WARNINGS - Violence towards an original character, Brody. Kissing, swearing, threatening language and possessive behaviour. I think that’s all :)

WORD COUNT - 6k

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY !!!

i do not own the rights to the following characters, other than Brody Baker who I created myself, all other characters are created and owned by the Duffer Brothers- Stranger Things.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted , translated or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here, it has been posted without my permission.

Requests open !!!!! :)

—————————————————————————————-

You and Billy were deeply in love, a connection so strong it was indescribable and it was obvious to everyone around you. With you, Billy felt safe enough to let his guard down, even showing vulnerability. You brought a genuine happiness to his life. Others saw him as a thoughtless jerk who treated everyone so poorly, but with you, he was gentle, loving, and incredibly kind. It felt like a perfect dream unfolding, a perfect, beautiful reality.

Then, with a suddenness that was both shocking and cruel, that dream was shattered. One minute you were making plans for a future filled with promise. The next, a harsh twist of fate intervened, tearing you apart.

About a year ago, Billy moved from your sunny California hometown to a place you’d never heard of before, Hawkins, Indiana. The decision made by his father, Neil, had followed a painful realization that the distance between you both was simply too far to sustain your relationship. You'd made the difficult choice to break up, hoping that the separation would allow both of you to move on and build new lives, not that you could imagine yours without Billy.

However, Billy never truly moved on. He was miserable in Hawkins, constantly haunted by memories of your time together. He repeatedly told you that he would come back for you, willing to make the long journey to California whenever possible. But you wouldn't allow it. You insisted that the constant travel would be too much of a struggle for him and you genuinely hoped that he would find a way to start a better life in Hawkins.

Despite your attempts to encourage him to move forward, Billy remained fixated on the past. He would call you late at night, his voice filled with longing and regret, recounting cherished moments and vowing to return. Each conversation was a painful reminder of what you had lost, a pain that teared through your chest, even across the miles. The weight of his unhappiness was a heavy burden for you to bear, knowing that your decision to end the relationship had caused him so much pain.

While Billy was struggling with his unhappiness in Hawkins, you found yourself seeking solace in the arms of a new boyfriend, Brody Baker. It was no secret that Billy despised Brody and that’s why you could never bring yourself to tell him about your relationship. Oddly enough, Brody reminded you of Billy in some ways, a similarity that both attracted and disturbed you. In truth, you had gotten together with Brody as a distraction, a way to numb the pain of missing Billy so intensely. But as your relationship with him deepened, you found that Brody wasn’t actually very nice to you at all, he’d often make fun of your clothes and the music you liked, leaving you humiliated and hurt.

Billy found it increasingly difficult to contact you with you never being home to pick up his calls. You spent most of your time at Brody's house, immersed in a new routine that seemed designed to keep Billy away. Yet, despite the physical distance and the new relationship, Billy never truly left your mind. You loved him, you’d always, love him. Something you couldn’t feel for Brody, though you’d tried.

Fleeting memories of your shared past would surface unexpectedly, stirring up a mix of longing and guilt. You told yourself that you would likely never see Billy again, that the chapter of your life you shared with him, was closed for good.

That was, until, last night, when the fragile sense of closure was shattered by a terrifying phone call from his sister, Maxine. Her voice was filled with panic, hinting at a crisis that threatened to unravel everything you thought you knew about Billy's new life in Hawkins.

“(Y/N), hello!" Maxine's voice burst through the phone, laced with a desperate urgency.

"Hey, Max, what's going on?" (Y/N) asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

"(Y/N), Billy needs you, I need you! I don't have time to explain right now, but can you please come to Hawkins? As soon as possible, please!" Maxine pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Max, me and Billy have been over for over a year. I can't just-" (Y/N) started, but Maxine swiftly cut her off.

"No, you don't understand. Things are happening in Hawkins, very BAD things. The Mind Flayer got into Billy. He keeps switching from Billy to someone I don't even recognize. He's hurting people, not like before, he’s really hurting people and-" You interrupted her, your mind reeling.

"Mind Flayer?" (Y/N) questioned, the words sounding like something out of a nightmare.

"It's like... a huge shadow monster. I know it sounds dumb, I didn't believe it at first either, but please, (Y/N), please believe me. You're our last hope, our last chance at helping Billy, please.” She begged, her voice trembling.

The call left you shaken and disoriented, Max's words echoing in your mind like a broken record. You struggled to make sense of the bizarre claims, but you trusted Max’s words. If Maxine, of all people, was saying things as strange as this, it had to hold some truth, no matter how unrealistic it seemed. You pushed aside your doubts and resolved to do what she asked.

"Alright, Max, I'll come. Just calm down and sit tight, okay?" (Y/N) said, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

"Okay, got a pen?" Max asked quickly.

You grabbed an old pen and a crumpled piece paper, jotting down a time and directions Max rattled off, guiding you to the community pool where Billy worked. You couldn't fathom why Max wanted you to go there instead of their house, but you trusted her judgment and her plan, clinging to the hope that you could somehow make a difference in this unfolding nightmare.

The conversation with Maxine lingered in the air, each word a heavy weight. You took a shaky breath, the scent of vanilla from your half burned candle doing little to calm your nerves. Hesitantly, you picked up the phone, your thumb hovering over the familiar digits before finally making the call. Brody answered on the third ring, his usual laid back tone grating against your frayed nerves.

"Hey.” (Y/N) began, her voice trembling slightly. "Maxine needs me... Billy... he needs me too. Something's happening and I need to get to Hawkins." She rushed the words, a desperate plea laced within them.

There was a pause, a beat of silence that felt like an eternity.

“Are you crazy? Hawkins? Do you know how far that is? You're asking me, your boyfriend, to take you to Billy, your ex-boyfriend, to help him because he's having a hard tim-“ Brody stopped abruptly, the air thick with unspoken resentment.

A sinister chuckle then filled the line.

“Sure, I'll take ya." He said.

Relief washed over you, but it was quickly tainted by the unsettling tone in his voice. It wasn't about helping, it was about something else entirely. Brody wanted to take you, wanted to parade you in front of Billy like a prize, a trophy. He wanted to see Billy's reaction, to assert his dominance.

It wasn’t long after the phone call until Brody beeped the horn outside of your house, the sound a sharp, impatient blare that echoed in the tense silence. You’d thrown on whatever clothes you could find. Tight black shorts that hugged your thighs like a second skin, a faded black tank top clinging to your torso and Billy’s old denim jacket that Brody thought was yours, the worn fabric still carrying a faint trace of his familiar scent. You paired everything with your black Converse to match the look. Usually you’d go for the white option, preferring lighter, brighter clothes, but today, you felt like matching your clothes with your mood, dark and heavy.

You rushed outside to get inside the car. The gravel crunched sharply under the hard soles of your shoes as you practically yanked the passenger door open. Brody was already smirking and leaning back in his seat like he owned the place… And you. You slid in, avoiding his gaze and slamming the door shut with a hollow thud. The sooner you got this over with, the better.

——————————————————————————-

The drive was an endless blur of long, winding roads and hazy landscapes, the only thing you’d seen for hours were gas stations and public bathrooms. Each pit stop was a fresh wave of exhaustion, impatience gnawing at your insides like a persistent hunger, until finally, the headlights of the car caught the faded wording of the 'Welcome to Hawkins' sign. A wave of relief washing over you.

Driving through Hawkins, you kept your eyes peeled, judging every little detail of the town Billy was forced to call home. The cookie cutter houses, the overgrown lawns, the crushing stillness of the air. You started to realize why Billy hated it here, why he felt trapped and suffocated.

You pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket, the edges softened and frayed from repeated folding and unfolding and started navigating your boyfriend, Brody, to the community pool. You took a few wrong turns down eerily quiet streets, each one more unsettling than the last, until finally, you spotted a familiar shock of red hair in the distance.

Max.

You could spot that vibrant, defiant red head from a mile away.

Brody cut the engine and you practically dove out of the car, the sudden movement startling Maxine. She snapped her head back, her eyes widening as she saw you emerge from the darkness of the night.

"(Y/N)… You’re here!" Max exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and disbelief.

"Wait there.” (Y/N) said to Brody, her voice sharp and tight, before rushing towards Max.

"Max, what's going on? Why are we here?" (Y/N) questioned, her eyes darting around the community pool, the only light source coming from the pale glow of the moon.

"Uhh- I thought you could just speak to Billy and, and, and make things better, you know? But things got worse, much, worse and now I don't know what to do. My friends are over there planning something.” Max said, pointing towards a small bunch of teenagers huddled near the pool entrance.

Lucas, Max, El, Will and Dustin were their names.

"Where is Billy?" (Y/N) questioned, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's inside, showering.” Max said, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and desperation.

Fifteen minutes had crawled by, each second stretching into an eternity as Max explained the whole horrifying situation. You were startled, scared, even. This all seemed impossible, ripped from the pages of some twisted comic book, but you knew that Max was telling the truth. She'd never call you all the way out here in the dead of night if it wasn't.

The group of teens, their faces grim and determined, came over to the three of you and declared their plan to release the ‘Mind Flayer’ from Billy's body. 'It likes it cold'. The words echoed in your mind, a brief, chilling memory of Max's explanation. So, when they told you about trapping Billy in the sauna, a horrifying kind of logic clicked into place.

The teens made their way to the building of the community pool, gathering outside of the sauna, the humid night air heavy with tension. A human dummy was placed inside to catch Billy’s attention. Mike, on the other hand was the only one who went a different direction, disappearing into the shadows. He was going to be the one to lure Billy in, the bait in their desperate trap. And you, stopped back to inform Brody of what was about to happen.

——————————————————————————-

Billy’s pov -

Billy, fresh from his shower, tugged on his denim jeans at his locker, jumping up slightly as he did it, the damp denim clinging uncomfortably to his thighs. Before he could reach for a shirt, a sharp bang echoed from around the corner.

“Pool's closed.” He announced, followed by the unmistakable clatter of chains.

Irritated, Billy's wet feet slapped against the tile as he stalked toward the sound.

"Hey! Did you hear me? The pool is closed!" He yelled, hammering on the door, only to find it locked from the outside by strong, thick chains and steel padlocks.

"Billyyyy.” A sing-song voice taunted.

Billy spun around instantly.

“Who's there?" He asked, his voice low and menacing.

The taunting continued.

“Billyyyy."

“Who’s thereeee?” Billy sang back, voice still low and increasing with anger.

Billy yanked open shower curtains, checking every corner, his frustration mounting.

“You think this is funny, huh.” He said with a low, raspy voice.

"Come find me.”Mike giggled.

“I find you, it is your funeral.” Billy growled, lowering the bass in his voice.

Pacing through the steamy rooms, Billy's eyes finally landed on the sauna door. Through the small, square window… He spotted the dummy.

"Got you.” He grinned, rushing inside.

But his smile suddenly vanished as he realized it was a decoy. Grabbing the dummy by its neck, he forced it up high, his brows furrowed in fury.

“Hey, turn around.” Mike's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie that was taped to the dummy’s torso.

Billy whirled around, spotting the teens. Eleven stood firm, hand raised and with a surge of power, sent Billy flying into the wall behind him. The impact shattered the already cracked tiles around him as he crashed to the floor. Eleven slammed the sauna door shut and Billy quickly scrambled to his feet to escape, but Mike and Lucas had already jammed a silver pole through the door handle, securing it behind a nearby pipe, followed by yet another thick chain and steel padlock.

Billy's desperation escalated into a frenzy, his sweaty palms pounding against the door with a force that echoed through the entire place. Each failed attempt to break free only worsened his panic. He scanned the room, his eyes darting wildly until they locked onto Max's. A wave of disbelief washed over him.

“Max.” He whispered.

A beat of silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Max's gaze was unwavering, a complex mix of love and resentment swirling within her eyes. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice firm.

"Do it." The command hung in the air, a point of no return.

Mike, his face a mask of determination, darted to the side of the door. With a swift motion, he cranked the sauna's heat dial to its maximum setting. A surge of oppressive heat began to fill the box that Billy was trapped in, a silent promise of the torment to come. The air crackled with anticipation, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

"MAX! LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Billy shouted, his voice cracking as he pounded on the door and window.

"Let me out.” He pleaded, his breath hitching.

"You kids… you think this… is funny? You think this is some kind of sick prank, huh?" Billy gasped, struggling to breathe.

He pulled his head back and spat against the window, leaving a long smear of saliva.

“YOU LITTLE SHITS THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" -

“What is this?" Billy asked, teeth gritted, shoulders rising and falling with a ragged breath.

"Open, the door, OPEN THE DOOR!" He screamed, voice escalating with each strike against the door.

"OPEN. THE DOOR!" Sweat drenched him as he continued his frantic assault.

"OPEN THE GOOD DAMN DOOR!" Billy roared, his final blows weakening until he collapsed onto the floor.

——————————————————————————-

(Y/N)'s pov -

Outside, you were explaining the situation to Brody when loud thuds echoed from inside snagging your attention.

"OPEN THE GOOD DAMN DOOR!" (Y/N) heard Billy shout, a wave of sadness washing over her at his pain.

“What the-“ Brody started, his voice trailing off as your footsteps quickened, darting towards the side door that had been left ajar for you by Mike.

You raced inside, bolting from room to room, following the trail of steam until you found the group of teens gathered before the sauna. You stood back, listening to Billy's screams and cries, each word breaking your heart and crushing something deep inside your chest.

"We're at two twenty.” Will announced, declaring the sauna's heat.

"It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault Max, I promise it's not my fault.” Billy sobbed, huddled on the floor.

"What's not your fault, Billy?" Max questioned.

"I've done things, Max, really, bad things, but I didn't mean to… He made me do it.” Billy cried.

"Who made you do it?" She asked.

"I don't know… It’s like a shadow.” Billy whispered.

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT, MAX! PLEASE BELIEVE ME, PLEASE!" Billy shouted through floods of tears, laying his head on the wooden seats of the sauna and reaching for a sharp piece of tile from underneath.

"Jesus, Billy.” (Y/N) whispered to herself.

Will gripped his neck and turned to Mike.

“I feel him… He's activated." He stated, fear rushing across his eyes.

"Max, get away from the door!" Mike demanded.

"What?" She whispered.

"GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!" He screamed.

Billy smashed the sharp tile through the window, shoving his arm and head through straight after, trying to reach for Max, a look of fear settled over her eyes as he started pounding on the door with the tile.

"AHHHHH, LET ME OUT YOU BITCH, LET ME OUT!" Billy screamed, banging at the door before pulling out the wedged pole from the handle, the chains remaining tight in place.

"Oh my god.” (Y/N) Said under bear breath, eyes wide and fixated on Billy.

Billy took a few steps back and ran at full speed straight ahead of him, slamming his body against the door followed by three more attempts after it. He reached out again, trying to get ahold of Maxine.

"LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT! I'LL FUCKING GUT YOU!" He threatened.

You took a few shaky steps forward, hands balled into fists and your nails digging into your sweat soaked palms.

“Billy.” (Y/N) whispered, a quiet, gasping exhale.

Billy froze, every muscle in his body locked in place. He remained motionless for several seconds. Was this real? The question echoed in his mind, demanding an answer he was terrified to voice.

The sound had sliced through Billy like a shard of ice, lodging directly into his chest. Your voice. It couldn't be. A wave of nausea washed over Billy as he slowly turned to face you.

The furrows etched between his brows, deepened by confusion and a lingering pain, began to smooth out, his eyes, previously narrowed in disbelief, widened, pupils dilating as if starved for light and the harsh lines of his face softened, replaced by a look of stunned awe. There, bathed in the soft glow of the room, you stood, a vision so beautiful, it stole the very breath from his lungs.

It WAS your voice, the comforting sound he'd dreamed of over countless nights.

“(Y/N)." He said, breathing heavily. "How… wh- what are you doing here?" He questioned while fighting an internal battle against the mind flayer.

You stood frozen, unsure of what to say or do, your eyes still locked heavily onto Billy's.

His breathing grew heavier the longer he stared back at you.

“Come here, please... come here." He pleaded, extending his arm out towards you.

"Don't!" Mike shouted. "It's a trap!"

"NO!" Billy roared, pounding his fist against the doorframe he was still partially hanging out of.

"Baby, don't listen to them, okay? It's me, I'm still me. Come here. I would never hurt you, you know that. Just come to me, please... I need to hold you." He pleaded.

"I can't, Billy.” (Y/N) managed to say, tears welling up in her eyes.

Billy pounded at the door a few more times, his frustration building rapidly.

“Damn it, yes, you can! Yes you can. Come to me, now, baby, please…(Y/N), please. Just let me hold you, it’s all I want I promise, please." His plea was a mix of desperation and anger, fueled by the fact that you were so close, but not close enough for him to reach you. The restraint only riled him up more.

“Open the door! Open the door!" He screamed, his gaze fixed on Max.

"BILLY, STOP!" (Y/N) shouted, her voice cracking slightly.

His head snapped back to you, the tension in his eyebrows quickly easing.

“I'm s- I'm sorry, baby... I'm sorry.” He stammered, his voice laced with regret.

You began to walk slowly towards Billy, your eyes locked on his and a nervous energy, now filling the space between you.

"(Y/N), STOP!" Mike yelled again, his voice filled with urgency.

"No, no, no, don't listen to them, listen to me, baby, come on.” Billy urged with his voice coated in desperation.

He extended his hand, palm open, fingers twitching with the need to touch you.

“Come on.” He repeated, his eyes pleading, silently begging you to ignore whatever phantom voices held you captive. With a surge of adrenaline, he pulled his hand back and forth, gesturing for you to come to him, to break free from whatever invisible chains bound you.

“That's it, baby... that's it. Come here, come to me. I got you. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Come to me... come on.” He whispered convincingly, his voice trembling with each deep, uneasy breath, tears now brimming in his eyes.

He watched as you reached for him, but he was quicker, propelled by a surge of adrenaline and a desperate need to bridge the impossible gap. Still hanging out the door, one arm strained, body swimming in the suffocating heat of the sauna, he lunged. His hand curled around your back, a desperate grasp and he hauled you forward until you were pressed against the barrier, the cruel door that kept you separated.

His breath came in ragged gasps, much heavier than before, a frantic rhythm against the backdrop of his rising panic. He dipped his head, resting his against yours, a fragile connection in the face of overwhelming darkness. Then, the dam broke. Tears streamed down his face, hot and uncontrolled.

"Let me out, baby, let me out, let me hold you.” He begged, each word a raw, desperate plea torn from the depths of his soul.

You cupped his cheek with your small, sweaty hand that was now imprinted with sharp nail dents. The gesture was a tender contrast to the chaos swirling around you. His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes searching, pleading and In that moment, you knew what you had to do. You had to flood his mind, break through the unwanted darkness with the light of your shared memories and remind him of the love that still burned within him.

And so you began.

You poured forth a torrent of images, sensations and emotions, the first time you met, the laughter that echoed through Billy’s beloved Camaro, the quiet nights spent tangled in each other's arms. For twelve excruciating minutes. You’d painted a vivid tapestry of your love, each memory a weapon against the insidious force that held him captive.

He focused on your words, clinging to them like a drowning man to a plank of wood, his eyes widening as each memory resurfaced, each shared moment strengthening his soul.

You watched, frozen in horror, as the Mind Flayer began its agonising departure from Billy's body. The creature stabbed and swirled within him, the wisps of shadows rising from his flesh as it forced its way out through every pore. Billy's body became a canvas of torment, his muscles spasming uncontrollably and his face held in a silent scream. You wanted to rush to him, to hold him, to somehow absorb his pain, but you knew you couldn't. You could only watch, helpless, as he endured the unimaginable.

When the last vestige of the Mind Flayer finally slithered away through the window, leaving a trail of viscous, black, slimy residue behind, Billy collapsed to the floor, a broken husk of the man you loved. He laid there, gasping for air, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the possession before violently throwing up the remaining slugs from the creature that had infested him, a cruel pile of black that seemed to carry so much evil inside of it. He laid still for a moment, gathering his strength, his face a mask of pain and exhaustion.

Until finally, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements shaky and uncertain. He peered through the window, his eyes searching for you, needing to confirm that you were still real, that you were actually here, in Hawkins, with him.

"Let me out.” He pleaded, his voice raw with desperation, his eyes begging for your touch.

Max rushed to the chains to unlock the door and you followed her closely, standing just outside, your heart pounding in your chest. Billy reached through the window, his hand trembling as he cupped your face, his gaze locked onto yours, a silent promise of reunion.

But then, a voice shattered the fragile moment.

"Hargrove." The word dripped with malice, laced with a sinister amusement that sent a shiver down your spine.

Billy's head snapped towards the sound, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher why Brody Baker, of all people, was here. The realization dawned on him quickly and his eyes blazed with fury as he shot a venomous glare in your direction. You instinctively reached for Max's hand, stopping her from opening the door.

“Why is he here?" Billy questioned, his voice deeper and more menacing than before.

“Max, away from the door.” You whispered with your eyes fixed on Billy, watching his every move.

"I'm here because MY GIRLFRIEND, asked me to bring her here, to babysit your ass.” Brody sneered, his voice full of arrogance.

A burning rage surged through Billy. He couldn't believe it. Out of everyone in the world, why did it have to be the one person he hates the most above all others? He threw himself against the door, slamming his body against the it with a force that threatened to snap the chains.

“He can't get out, right?" Max asked, her voice riddled with fear.

“No way, impossible.” Lucas reassured, but his voice lacked conviction.

With a final, desperate surge of strength, Billy burst through the door, sending padlocks in every direction. He stumbled out of the sauna and lunged towards Brody, his eyes burning with a murderous intent.

Brody's ‘tough guy’ act soon evaporated, replaced by a sharp terror. He knew he could mouth off when Billy was trapped, but now that he was free, he was defenseless against the storm of fury that was about to be unleashed.

Billy landed a series of brutal blows to Brody's face, causing Brody to fall flat against the floor, each punch fueled by years of resentment and a burning desire to protect you.

"Thought you could take MY girl, huh? Thought you could... Take her… From ME?! Thought you could, replace, ME?!" He screamed, each word punctuated by a brutal punch to Brody's face.

"Billy, stop!" Maxine screamed, her voice lost in the frenzy. But Billy was deaf to her pleas and consumed by a rage that fueled his relentless assault.

Another series of blows landed, each one a harder than the last.

“BILLY, ENOUGH!" (Y/N) finally demanded, her voice cutting through the haze of violence.

Billy's arm, cocked back for the final strike and froze mid air. Your voice, coated with a mixture of fear and desperation, had broken through his rage. He snapped his head in your direction and paused, his eyes locking onto yours, the fight seemed to drain out of him.

You were a mess of tears, hating the monster Billy had become. You never cared much for Brody, a fact that now twisted in your gut with guilt. You'd led him on, used him for comfort and the shame of it was a bitter taste in your mouth. But your heart ached for Billy, for the pain that had driven him to this.

He stood up, a raw, animalistic energy still radiating from him and rushed towards you, hesitating for a short moment before engulfing you into a crushing hug. His head buried in your hair, taking in your familiar scent that he’d longed for, for over an entire year and his arm secured gently, around your back. His knuckles were a canvas of blood and his skin radiated the boiling heat and sweat of the sauna.

“Billy, I'm s- I'm so sorry, I-" (Y/N) stammered, choked by her sobs.

He cut you off, his voice rough but tender.

“No, no sweetheart, I get it. Don't worry, it doesn’t matter anymore. You thought you'd never see me again, you needed a shoulder to cry on, I get it." He said softly.

You clung to him, the sobs clawing at your throat.

“You're staying here, with me. I'm not letting you go again, I can't. I only listened to you the first time because I thought you'd change your mind, but I won't do it again.” He declared, his voice leaving no room for argument.

He pulled back, his hands framing your face, thumbs gently wiping away the fresh tracks of tears.

"Don't do that to me again.” He pleaded, his voice thick with an emotion you mirrored.

"Stay here with me." He begged, his eyes searching yours for a silent answer.

“You can live at my place, with me and my dad, he’s the chief of Hawkins police, he'll let you stay with us for sure. He's a hero, too, he saved lots of lives, in a mall fire." El said with a smile, a genuine, hopeful smile that tugged at your heart.

You nodded, the agreement tumbling from your lips before you could even process it. You couldn't bear the thought of leaving Billy again, of losing the magnetic pull that had always drawn you back to him. You missed the electric touch of his skin against yours, the comforting weight of his arm around your shoulders that never failed to keep you safe, the way his presence filled every space around you with a familiar warmth. You sniffled, wiping your nose on the worn cuff of the denim jacket you were wearing… HIS, denim jacket.

Billy chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated between the both of you, as he pulled you closer.

"You kept it?" He asked, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.

You smirked, the remaining tears still clinging to the wisps of your lashes.

“Yeah, I never stopped wearing it. Even slept with it sometimes." (Y/N) said.

The sound of shuffling feet broke the soft, almost romantic moment.

Brody, looking like a wounded animal, found the strength to stand, staggering slightly as he did.

"(Y/N), get your shit together.” He slurred, his voice laced with a desperate plea.

Billy's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Brody with a cold stare.

"We're leaving.” Brody demanded with his voice cracking.

Billy turned his head back to you, his gaze intense, a silent question hanging in the air. A look that said, 'show him who you belong to'.

The message was clear and the response was instinctive.

You walked over to Brody and without a word, punched him square in the face. The force of the blow surprised both you and Billy. You don't know why you did it, but in that moment, it felt like the only possible way to make it all up to Billy, that and the fact he kind of deserved it for the year of torment he gave you over your clothes and music taste.

"We're over.” (Y/N) stated, the words ringing with a finality that settled like a stone.

A loud, uncontrollable laugh erupted from Billy as he stalked towards you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He dipped to your height and his chin rested beside your face and onto your shoulder, then he looked up at Brody with a playful glint in his eyes.

“That's my girl!" He chuckled proudly, squeezing you tighter as he said it.

“Thanks for bringing her back to me, man. You can go home now. I'll be taking MY GIRLFRIEND home with me." He mocked, his voice dripping with possessive arrogance.

Brody's face scrunched with rage and defeat.

“Fuck you, Hargrove.” He spat before turning and scurrying out of the place, leaving you standing there, caught between the wreckage of one relationship and the undeniable pull of another.

Max smiled and turned to leave through the fire exit, the rest of the teens followed, understanding the need for a private moment between you and Billy.

You turned in Billy’s arms and his eyes met yours, a genuine, heart stopping smile lit up his face, revealing those perfectly shaped teeth.

“I love you, Billy.” (Y/N) confessed, the words tumbling out, raw and honest. “I tried to fight it, to numb myself to the feeling, but I can’t anymore. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry for not telling you about Brody.” (Y/N) stated as regret flooded in her chest.

Billy's grip tightened slightly.

"I know, baby.” He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you too. I’ve been a mess, so God damn miserable without you. But I needed you and you came for me, just like I knew you would." He paused, his eyes searching yours.

“My dad’s gone for the week, took Susan, said something about a stupid vacation. Max wanted to stay, so he made me stay back to babysit. Will you come home with me? We can forget about all of this for tonight and then figure out the rest tomorrow, I’ll take you over to El’s and explain everything to Hopper and get you settled in.” He pleaded.

A wave of relief washed over you and a tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.

“Yes.” (Y/N) breathed out, the word filled with all the hope and love she thought she’d lost.

Billy's hands found your face, pulling you into him as he latched onto your lips. The kiss was intense, urgent, a raw expression of need. He kissed you aggressively, his tongue tangling with yours as you both gasped for air. It was a wild, desperate dance, a silent conversation of longing and reunion that Billy had craved for the past year.

The world seemed to fade away until finally, the kiss broke, leaving you both breathless and flushed as a long string of saliva that met at the fullness of your lips, snapped.

Without a word, Billy scooped you up into his arms, a groan escaping his lips as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his body from the pain he’d just endured. Ignoring it, he held you securely, determination plastered on his face. He turned and strode out of the building, the other teens trailing behind, giggling at how soft Billy was for you, it was something they’d never witnessed from him before… Ever.

As you reached the outside, a familiar click echoed in your ears. It was the unmistakable sound of Billy’s Camaro door. The car you had both cursed and loved, the car you swore would be the death of you both one day, yet the car you had missed with an ache you couldn't explain. It was a symbol of so many memories, a promise of reckless freedom and shared adventures.

No one other than Max had sat in your seat since he moved to Hawkins, not a single soul had dared to occupy the space you once held, not that Billy would’ve let them.

Maxine scrambled to the back seat and the rest of the teens made their way home.

Billy gently slid you down into the worn leather that had been waiting for you, for what seemed like a lifetime and eternity, his touch lingering for a moment, longer than necessary. He rounded the hood, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips and opened the driver's side door, settling in comfortably beside you.

You glanced into the backseat and a surprised smile lit up your face.

“My blanket.” (Y/N) breathed, reaching out to touch the familiar fabric.

“Yeah.” Billy said, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "It's uh, it's still there. Always kept it. Sometimes I sleep in my car when shit goes sideways with my dad so uh, I don’t know, the smell of it reminded me of you, when you'd calm me down after a fight with him." He chuckled softly, a touch of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Billy, I'm not going to leave again.” (Y/N) said, her voice laced with sincerity. "I'm sorry, okay? I wish I never did." A wave of regret washed over (Y/N) as she remembered the pain she had caused. "I love you.” She whispered, the words carrying the weight of her remorse and renewed commitment.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He replied, his voice thick with emotion and his hand reaching out to grip your thigh.

“You ready?" (Y/N) asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Billy started the engine, and it roared to life, the familiar sound filling the car. The interior was exactly how you remembered, the worn leather seats, the scent of cheap cologne and cigarettes that burned at your nostrils. A strange combination that transported you back to stolen moments.

Billy couldn't wait to get you back to his house, to hold you in his arms all night long, to erase the distance that had separated you for such a long time. He shifted the car into gear, the movement smooth and practiced, and said,

"Yeah, baby, let's get outta here."

The car lurched forward, carrying you both away from the shadows of the past and towards the promise of a brand new future together, a future that definitely didn’t consist of Billy beating everyone’s ass or being in pain.

Or as you’d hoped…

Click here to read Part 2.

Click here to read the You’re Mine, You Know That chapters.

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[ashwhowrites]

i love love love your writing and i have been waiting for your requests to be open!! can you please write a billy hargrove x reader story where he rejects her and then he regrets it and has to grovel?

Like she is super nice and friendly with everybody, and she can even get Billy to soften up to her. She's had a crush on Billy for the longest time like since he's arrives in Hawkins but he always is hooking up with somebody or flirting with somebody else. Then she notices that he's been alone for a couple of weeks and thinks this is her chance so she confesses to him and he lets her down gently because he doesn't feel the same (he so does but in his experience romance never lasts and he could never ever bear to lose her) and so she decides that having him as a friend is better than nothing.

But obviously she can't act the way she acted before and she starts distancing herself from him. No more grabbing his arm for security when the hallways are crowded. No more asking him for rides to and from school. No more chattering in his ear during lunch. Instead, she's doing those things with her best friend Steve or Eddie because they knew about her heartbreak and they're trying their best to be supportive.

And obviously he can tell right away that things are different and he's fighting the urge to shove Steve/Eddie away and take back his place next to you. He's trying to reach out and spend time with you and he doesn't care if he sounds desperate when he's doing so but she keeps blowing him off because she wants to get over him and she thinks he's just pitying her.

He finally snaps one night and sneaks into her room and tells her how he's been going crazy. She apologizes for being distant and says that she's moving on so that they can be friends. And Billy just says screw that and he doesn't care what he said before he just wants HER.

Sorry if this is a lot but I can't wait to read what you do with this!!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Relationship guy

Y/N and Billy had a touchy friendship. From afar they looked to be a couple, with the way they held hands, hugged, kissed each other's cheeks, and the way Billy would do anything for her. She was the only person in the world Billy had a soft spot for, that had to mean something.

There wasn't much time when they were apart. Billy was at her house first thing in the morning, the door open as he waited. The way he leaned against his car made her heart race every time. Then they arrive at school, and as usual, everyone is watching. They moved around the school and when people got too rowdy, Y/N would latch herself to Billy's arm.

"I got you," he smiled as he threw his arm over her shoulder. It wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last.

Lunch was Y/N's favorite part of the school day. Not only because of no class but because she got to talk to Billy non-stop for those few moments.

"Do you think you'll win today's game?" Y/N asked, crunching down on Billy's ignored apple.

Billy scoffed, stuffing his face. "Duh, I'm on the team."

Y/N laughed and nodded, "Fair point, and Steve too!"

"Oh yeah because he does a lot," Billy rolled his eyes.

"Be nice, he is my other best friend," Y/N playfully lectured.

"Yeah, but we know I'm better,"

"In basketball or being a friend?" Y/N asked to clarify

"Both, babygirl," he winked.

The bell rang and they packed up their trash. Before they went separate ways for class, Y/N kissed Billy's cheek goodbye.

~~~

Y/N fell for him, of course. She had eyes for Billy ever since he moved to Hawkins, but he didn't have the eyes for her. His eyes looked at every girl that passed by him. Y/N never made a move because he was always sleeping around with a new girl, but lately, he seemed to be alone more than usual.

With his eyes not looking elsewhere, Y/N found a boost of confidence to ask Billy out.

They were lying in his bed listening to music when she turned to look at him. She took in his handsome features, studying how gorgeous he was up close. She watched as his lips formed a smile and he turned to look at her.

"Why are you staring at me?" he laughed, placing an arm under his head and propping himself up. He reached out and placed his arm over her waist. She smiled at the feeling, her heart racing.

"Have you ever seen me more than just a friend?" she asked, her stomach twisted as his smile slowly disappeared from his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked, licking his lips nervously.

She took a deep breath, cuddling closer into his warm body. He hoped she couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding.

"I like you, Billy. I have for a long time but never said anything. Lately, you've been alone and it got me thinking maybe this is my chance to tell you."

Billy was in awe of her soft voice and the beauty of her heart. The truth was, he did like her. He was alone because no girl could get his mind off of her. She was the only person in his life that made him happy and he wasn't sure if he'd live if he lost her. He never tried to have a relationship so he had zero hope he would treat her the way she deserved.

"I think you are incredibly beautiful, inside and out. You've given my life a whole new purpose and I'm grateful to have you. I'm not a relationship guy and that won't change. I love you and hold a place for you in my heart, but in a friendly way." Billy said gently. He softly rubbed her hip as she sighed.

"If you were a relationship guy, would you go for me?" she asked, moving to look up at him. There was so much emotion in his blue eyes and she wished she could detect it.

"My first and only choice, baby," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Are you going to be okay? I really don't want to lose you as my friend," Billy admitted. He feared she'd pull away and he wouldn't blame her.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," she smiled. The rejection slightly hurt but she had a gut feeling Billy wasn't the boyfriend type anyway.

Billy hummed as a response. He moved to wrap both his arms around her, setting his head on hers as she cuddled into his chest.

~~~

Turns out she wasn't as okay as she thought she'd be. Spending all her time with Billy was fun and exciting. But now all she could think about was how badly she wanted more and how it would never happen. The kisses to her cheek that made her heart race were starting to make her stomach sour. And riding with him to and from school felt suffocating as his cologne filled the space.

She realized she would never be able to move on from him if she didn't change things. So, she figured creating a little distance would help her clear her head and heal her heart. Once she felt over him, they could resume their friendship and it wouldn't hurt her anymore.

Y/N got in Billy's car, her mind reeling. She was in deep thought and had been struggling with what to do.

"Steve is going to bring me home today," she said quietly. Billy turned down the music and turned to look at her. But she kept her eyes on the road as he drove.

"Oh, why?" He asked, moving his eyes back to the road. He ignored the ping of jealousy that ran through him.

"I think I need some space from you. Not in a bad way, it's just to help me. We'll still hang out and be best friends. I promise," she smiled. She reached over to place a comforting hand on his thigh.

Billy wanted to do what was best for her, but selfishly he didn't want space. He nodded and focused on the road, he hoped she couldn't see the water filling his eyes as he pulled into the parking lot.

~

The end of the day arrived and Billy could feel her lack of presence. He walked in the hallways alone, watching as she clung to Steve instead. She didn't sit with him at lunch, but that didn't stop him from staring at her the whole time. He dreaded driving home alone all day and he hated that it arrived. He also hated that her needing space meant everything changed.

He gave her a small wave as she drove by in Steve's car. His heart sped up as she excitedly waved back with a big smile. At least she still cared about him.

~~~

Billy tried to be patient with giving her space but after a week, he was ready to throw in the towel. He had to physically hold himself back from slamming Steve against the lockers whenever Y/N touched him. That was Billy's place. He fought the urge to sit at her new table, and beg her to gossip about her friends, anything to listen to her talk.

He missed driving with her, her smell in his passenger seat was slowly fading.

He sat on his bed as he held the phone to his ear, he hoped with everything in him that she would pick up.

"Hello?"

Billy smiled at the sound of her voice, "There she is, I've missed you," he admitted.

"I've missed you too, Billy," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Want to come over? We can order your favorite and watch those horrible movies you like," Billy offered.

"That sounds amazing, but I can't tonight. I'm sorry."

"That's alright, maybe next time," Billy said disappointed. The call ended shortly after and Billy slammed the phone down. He pulled at his hair as he took deep breaths to calm himself down. He was mad, frustrated, and hurt.

"You okay?"

Billy looked up as hot tears streamed down his face. Max stood at his door with a worried expression, a look he'd never seen her have before.

"I'm fine," he snapped. He walked up and slammed his door. Max didn't take it personally, it was the first time she ever saw Billy cry.

"I know we aren't friends, but it's okay to be upset. It's okay to feel things other than anger." Max said before she walked away.

~

The more time they spent apart, the more desperate Billy got. The more he called, the more he begged. He didn't care if he sounded crazy or pathetic, all he wanted to do was see her.

She noticed all the attention, and it was hard to look the other way. But she knew she'd never get over the love she had for him if she went back. She couldn't talk to him without getting lost in his eyes, or be in the same car inhaling his cologne. She couldn't touch his skin and not think about how much she wanted to taste it.

She figured he was pitying her, trying to lessen the blow of rejection. She knew Billy cared about her and it was something he'd do, but it didn't help her. It only made it harder.

She went to turn off her lamp when she heard knocking on her window. Only one person went through her window so she prepared herself to see him again.

She quickly fluffed her hair and smoothed out her sleep clothes. She walked over and opened the curtain. She didn't say anything as she unlocked the window and let him through.

"I can't do it anymore. I tried and I want to do what is best for you but I can't do it anymore!" Billy ranted as he paced around her room. "I can't take the distance. It's selfish, I know but I am falling apart here."

"Billy," she sighed, "It's hard now but trust me, it'll help us in the end."

"No, it won't!"

"If we don't do this now, I will never get over you. It'll damage our friendship in the long run. I'll never be able to accept when you get a girlfriend or decide one day to get married. I'll be tortured and unhappy. I'm doing this for the future us," she explained. "This is the only way I'll be happy for you."

"I don't care about future us. I care about us right now. I care about you being in my life right now." Billy begged. She watched Billy walk around the room, tears building in his eyes.

"I can't have you in my life right now!" Y/N argued, "You don't understand how painful it is to be in love with someone who can't love you back."

"What if I can?" he whispered, she felt her anger come to a halt.

Y/N scoffed, "You said it yourself, you're not a relationship guy."

"I don't give a fuck what I said. It was all bullshit, okay? I'm scared and have no idea what I'm doing and I don't know if I'll be who you want me to be, but I don't care. I want you," he confessed. He walked over and placed his hand on her cheek. She felt her breathing pick up as he looked down at her, so much emotion in his eyes.

He leaned in and she followed, turning her chin up as she closed the gap between them. She sighed in bliss as his warm lips worked against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, desperately pushing her body against his. Kissing her was better than Billy imagined, she was sweet and soft. He wanted to beat himself up for waiting so long.

Needing air, he pulled away. He placed his forehead on hers, opening his eyes as he panted against her mouth. "I'm ready to be a relationship guy. I love you."

"I love you too, Billy," she smiled, placing her lips on his.

~

Billy couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he pulled up to her house. He got out of the car and opened her door. He crossed his arms as he waited for her to walk out.

"There's my girl," he whistled as she walked down the driveway. She rolled her eyes but blushed at the nickname. She greeted him with a kiss, loving the way he wrapped his arms around her to deepen it.

"Good morning to me," Billy said against her lips. She pulled away to smile. She got in the car and Billy followed.

His hand was on her knee the whole drive. Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach ever since they kissed. She couldn't believe she and Billy were in a relationship.

They held hands as they walked into the school. He was happier than ever to have her by his side again, and this time as his girlfriend.

[nameless-ken]

Fic Recs Masterlist - Billy Hargrove

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

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

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

FIC RECS PART 2

Imagines

Piercings and Polaroids - @thephantomofthe-internet

Club Heaven - @billys-pretty-babe

Life Guard - @writethrough

loving you - @bookshelf-dust

billy vs. the grinch - @bookshelf-dust

you wanna talk about it? - @bookshelf-dust

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

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

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

Your Part Of My Family - @chloe-skywalker

Halloween Party - @chloe-skywalker

Heather - @thelovelylolly

i know a place - @billysbabyy *smut

At Peace - @billys-pretty-babe

Gone - @billys-pretty-babe

Better Off As Friends - @billys-pretty-babe

Happy Birthday, Baby - @billys-pretty-babe

Not freaks - @ashwhowrites

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

Just To Ourselves - @billyhargrove-s

and I didn't like the ending - @billysbabyy

What’s ok for me - @pastel-pillows

SUPERNOVA - @billlydear

GOT A LIGHT? - @billlydear

MEDIC - @billlydear

It's Always Been You - @thegreencanary

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

A Place to Land - @writethrough

Found You - @writethrough

starved - @starrywriting

forget - @capricornuh

I Know Better - @writethrough

As it Should Be - @waiting4inspiration

Shining Through - @sweet-villain

All Mine - @duramater97

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

Healing Touch - @waiting4inspiration

A Treat - @sweet-villain

You and Me - @tastefulstars

Night's like These - @billyhargrove-s

Up and Out - @queers-gambit Part 2

Billy's Girl - @thewritingofamadwoman

The Only Destination - @writethrough

Lost Things, Found Beginnings - @writethrough

One Last Goodbye - @thelovelylolly

Bodyguard - @ashwhowrites

dream - @alloftheimagines

i need my girl - @alloftheimagines

Give - @steph-speaks

[shes-an-odd-bird]

Pervy Boy

Summery: So, okay this is total self-indulgent smut. Billy is smug, egotistical and a pig pretty much. He jerks off to thoughts of having anal sex with you. If you don't like this, please don't read. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but sometimes I get these ideas in my crazy brain and I just have to write them 😬

Billy Hargrove x female reader

Warnings: 18+ only!! MINORS DNI Total Smut without plot, fantasies of anal sex, Billy alone in his room jerking off to thoughts of you and getting off looking at himself, language and all around filth. He's pretty much an egotistical dick...but still cute 😉

My Masterlist in case you need more Billy

Billy’s head rests against his pillows, glancing at the clock. It's 1 am, unable to sleep, thoughts of you consume his filthy mind. He’s stripped down to his briefs in the uncomfortable summer heat. Can't get the image of you from earlier tonight out of his head. The way your tiny skirt hugged your curves and your top barely contained your bouncy tits. His cock is rock hard.

But what he really can’t stop thinking about is your delicious ass. He’s an ass man for sure and the thought of bending you over and, well he probably wouldn’t tell you the disgusting things he thinks about, how much he wants in that dirty little hole of yours, he’d show you though, in a heartbeat.

He’s been trying to get with you for weeks now, but you’re playing this little game with him. He's tried everything to get with you, but you keep pushing him away. Driving him crazy, making him want you even more. He can have any girl he wants, but something about you, you're different. You're a challenge, and he loves a good challenge even if his cock aches because of it.

Laying here looking down at it, torqued so high its straining against his briefs. He likes looking at his own cock, has fun making it twitch beneath the fabric, girls giggle when he does that. Like a little party trick. It's a gift, and god he knows what he’s got.

His hand slides down his toned, tan abs to palm his aching cock through the damp fabric. He reaches down and pulls it, throbbing, out, wrapping his hand around the thick shaft. So thick, his favorite thing about his dick. Starts to stroke himself slowly, remembering the way you looked earlier tonight at the quarry where you all were hanging, those pretty pouty lips of yours. His hips bucking slightly. Can't remember the last time he's been this worked up, this desperate for someone. He tugs his briefs down fully, freeing his cock completely. It springs up, slapping against his abs, leaving a smear of pre cum on his tanned skin. It's long and thick, with a slight upward curve that makes girls' cry out when he fucks them, hitting them just right. They love it. Gasp when they see it too. He chuckles. It's impressive, it is. The shaft extremely thick, a large vein running down the length, pretty color too, only a little lighter in the summer against his tan skin, slightly pink on top when he's hard like this. Yeah, it's nice, more than nice actually. Almost too thick, if there is such a thing. You’d definitely need two hands to work it. His tongue peeks out from his teeth. He knows he looks good, knows you don't know what you're missing. He's got the body of a fucking god, the cock to match, and he knows how to use it. Lucky you.

His thoughts go back to earlier tonight, how he grabbed your ass with both hands as you walked by him, bending down, grabbing a beer. The feeling of your juicy ass in his hands, so fucking supple. You slapped his chest hard and called him a perv or something like that. He just smirked at you, knowing deep down you liked it. Could tell by the look in your eyes and the soft smile across your lips. He can still feel the softness of your cheeks, the way they jiggled in his grip.

Knows he'd be the first guy to claim your tight ass and that thought drives him fucking mad. Imagines pushing his cock against your virgin hole, feeling you tense up as he starts to push inside. Starting out slow, because he's a gentleman, of course. Can imagine your walls resisting at first, but he's determined to stretch you open, to make you take every inch of this thick cock. Starts to move, thrusting shallowly, giving you time to adjust to his huge size. But he can't hold back for long. Needs to fuck you hard. This is his fantasy for fucks sake.

His hand moves faster over his cock as he imagines you bent over his bed now, your skirt flipped up and your pretty panties pulled down, your perfect ass high in the air as he spreads your cheeks wide apart, exposing your tight, pretty hole. "Fuck, you love this, don't ya?" He leans down and spits directly onto your puckered entrance, watching the saliva drip down and coat your pretty skin. Then he pushes a finger inside, groaning at the way your body clenches around him. "Love having your dirty ass played with like a whore." he smirks at his own words, saying them out loud in his empty room. In his fantasy he adds a second finger, scissoring you open, getting you ready for his big cock. And you, look at you, loving every second of it.

His hand wraps around his throbbing cock, squeezing it tightly. "Fuck," he groans at the sensation, his hips thrusting up into his fist, imagining it's your tight little hole he's fucking into. His other hand reaches down to play with his heavy balls, rolling them in his palm.

In his thoughts again, he lines his cock up with your asshole, the fat head pressing insistently against the tight ring of muscle. He closes his eyes, his breath heavy. Slowing down his strokes, not wanting to cum yet, but your'e making him close. He wants to prolong this fantasy, to imagine every detail of fucking you. He gives your ass a hard smack, watching the red handprint bloom on your skin. The way it jiggles, it's too beautiful makes him groan loudly.

His hand speeds up now as he imagines taking you, stretching you open with his thick shaft. He can feel your tight heat fluttering around him, trying to push him out. But he's too big, too powerful. He's Billy Hargrove for fucks sake. He'll make you take every inch of his cock, because that's what Billy wants.

He can see the way your cheeks flush, your pouty lips part as you gasp and moan with each stroke. Makes him hot as hell. It’s no fun unless you’re having fun too. Gets off on it, the sounds you make. He pictures himself leaning over you, his strong body pinning you down as he fucks you hard and deep. One hand in your hair, the other reaching around to play with your clit, rubbing tight circles, wanting to make you cum, his cock buried in your ass. Needs to hear you moan, wishes he could hear that now, here in his room. Bets you sound pretty.

He huffs and stands up. He walks over to the full-length mirror over his little makeshift table, smirking at his reflection. He's completely naked. Looks like a fucking god, chiseled and bulging. He watches himself stroke his cock, admiring the way it throbs in his hand, the way it leaks pre cum with every stroke. It's so pretty. Better than a fucking porn star, he thinks. He spits a giant glob of saliva down onto his cock. He knows he's hot, knows that any girl would be lucky to have him, his eyes locked on his cock in the mirror, as he strokes faster, mouth open, furrowed brow, He's too handsome not to stare.

"Fuck! Gonna bend you over and split your tight little hole open with my big fat cock." Billy’s a talker when he jerks off, likes to talk out loud to himself, gets him off, hearing his own voice. "Gonna fuck you good, baby, be feeling the damage for days." he pants, his voice strained, he's getting close. "Gonna pump you full of my hot cum til it's dripping down your fuckin’ thighs, baby girl." His tongue runs across his teeth as he stares at his face in the mirror. Loves looking at himself. Could probably cum just watching himself.

His hand moves faster now, the sound of his heavy breathing mixes with the obscene wet slapping from his spit and pre cum covered dick. Feels his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he gets closer.

One hand slides up across his toned stomach stopping to pinch his nipple, getting it hard, loves doing that. "Fuck, feels so good." He groans, imagining you moaning and cumming hard while his cock is buried deep in your pretty ass. Pictures your face all flushed, your eyes rolling back as he pounds into you. The sight is enough to push him over the edge. “Arghh fuckkk yeah!” he cums hard, his cock pulsing as his cum shoots across onto the mirror, coating some of the glass and landing on the products on his table. He watches it, proud of himself as his hot cum drips down. He groans your name.

He smirks as his cum drips down the mirror and all over his cologne and hairspray bottles He loves the sight of his own cum, feels powerful and manly. Wants you to see it, praise him for it. He knows he's a fucking stud, the hottest guy in town, loves showing off his goods. He boasts to himself, his voice low and husky. "Fuck yeah, look at that load. Bet you'd love to taste it, wouldn't you, baby? Get on your knees and clean it up like a good little slut." He talks to himself.

He turns in the mirror to his side, flexing his bicep as he admires his own reflection. His cock is still hard, pulsing with left over cum dribbling down the shaft. He knows he could go again, could fuck you all night long if you were here. He reaches down, giving his shaft a few lazy strokes as he imagines you on your knees, your tongue out, ready to lick up every drop. “On your knees pretty girl and worship my cock like the good little slut you are." He chuckles.

He's still smirking as he grabs his briefs off his couch. He slides them on, his shaft nestled against the soft fabric. Loves the way his briefs hug his package, showing off his impressive bulge. He gives himself a few more strokes through the fabric. His tongue running across his bottom lip repetitively.

He's a work of art, a masterpiece of male perfection. He winks at his reflection before heading over to give you a call, doesn’t matter what time it is, you’re gonna want some of this.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Everything that I Wanted (1)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader 

Word Count: 4.2k 

Synopsis: Love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; sexual themes, language, depictions of a toxic relationship (manipulation & isolation from peers) 

A/N: Comments & Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much @munsonsmixtapes @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours for letting me talk to you about this fic ilysm

You were so excited, practically sprinting down the hallways towards the cafeteria. Your bag hits against your back at every step. You feel like you’re on top of the world. You can’t remember the last time you were this indescribably happy. You felt like you could practically float. 

Walking into the cafeteria, you take your usual seat with the rest of Hellfire Club, blending in with your matching shirts. You slide into your seat between your best friends- Gareth and Eddie. You take a moment to catch your breath as you shrug off your backpack. 

Gareth has been best friends with you since middle school, and you both became best friends with Eddie when you met him your freshman year, when he was a sophomore. You were inseparable from the entirety of Hellfire, but you and Eddie were very close. 

“What’s got you so worked up? Eddie asked, noticing how flustered you seemed to be when you all but fell into your seat. A smile spreads across his face, like it usually does, at your antics. Amusement is apparent in his eyes as he observes you- you never seem to notice how he looks at you like that. 

“I just got asked out,” you squeal, unable to contain your excitement. You couldn’t believe it had actually happened. It was something you had come to accept would never happen to you. But suddenly, it’s like the world has opened itself up to you. You were so happy, giddy and lovesick already getting swooped up in the romance of it all. 

Gareth congratulates you, happy for you as he pats your back. His eyes drift to Eddie, and the two exchange a knowing look. It was Hellfire’s best kept secret how Eddie felt about you. Everyone except you knew how Eddie was pretty much in love with you and has been, since the two of you met. It was obvious to all of your friends- except to you. 

You didn’t think you were the type any guy would notice. You were never the one that guys tended to see. It was something you longed for, you craved to be noticed- to be truly seen. You’d wanted to experience everything that you felt you were missing. You wanted the high school experience of your first date, your first kiss, a cute guy asking for your number. You never thought it was in the cards for you- so when it finally happened, you were overjoyed.

“Who’s the guy?” Jeff asked with an eyebrow raised. You’re taking your lunch out of your bag so you miss the way Jeff looks at Eddie and how Eddie’s shoulder slump dejectedly. 

“Billy Hargrove,” you exclaim, your cheeks turning warm remembering back on the events that took place a few moments ago. “The guy with the really cool Camaro,” you gush. You don’t miss how the table falls silent. “What is it?” You ask, your face falling. “I thought you all would be excited for me…”

Gareth clears his throat, the first one in the group willing to speak up. “It’s not that we aren’t happy that you got asked out…,” Gareth begins, making sure to choose his words carefully. “It’s just that… Well, Billy doesn’t have a reputation for being a nice guy…”

Your heart sits heavy in your chest at Gareth’s words. It’s a truth you don’t want to acknowledge. Billy was known to go after every girl, and you knew this. But it just felt so different to you- like maybe you’re the one to be the exception. You wanted to feel wanted so desperately that you can imagine, even if just for a little while, that you’re different. You know deep down that you’re not- but you don’t want to admit it. 

“You guys didn’t hear him just now,” you try to explain, coming to his defense. “He was so sweet when it was just us.” He was, he told you everything he knew you wanted to hear- because that was what he was good at. He knew how to get what he wanted, and he read you like the back of a book. Unfortunately, you were longing for something tangible and real- you refused to acknowledge the signs.

“Is it that hard to imagine that he might actually like me?” you ask, your voice failing you as it cracks. “Maybe I’m different- is that so impossible? Am I that undateable?”

The way you speak down about yourself causes Eddie’s heart to beak. He wishes you saw yourself the way he saw you. He holds back so many things he just doesn’t have the courage to say- especially as you seem so wrapped up in Billy Hargrove. 

“Sweetheart, it’s not that,” Eddie interjects, before you spiral too much. “You’re amazing- any guy can see that… It’s just Billy- he doesn’t.. He’s just- not the type of guy to want anything serious…” 

“He was just trying to butter you up,” Gareth says, more direct and maybe more harsh than he intends to be. “He’ll get what he wants from you and then dump you. He’s only being nice to try to get into your pants- he’s a player and he’s using you.”

Gareth's words sting, because you are so deep in denial and don’t want to accept the truth about Billy. You think that Billy is your only chance to actually date someone- no one else having shown interest in you before. 

“Maybe he does want something real, with me,” you say with a hopeful voice. “I already told him yes…” you admit softly, “we’re going to the drive-in on Saturday night. He sounded like he was really excited about it.”

“I’m sure he was,” Eddie says, an underlying bitterness evident in his tone. Grant elbows him, silently telling him to ‘cut it out.’Eddie concedes when he sees how his tone affected you. 

“I’d rather put myself out there at the risk of getting hurt than experiencing nothing at all,” you say, pointedly towards Eddie. His eyes widen at the tone, but he knows he deserves it. “Billy is the first guy to ask me out- ever! I don’t know if I’ll get the opportunity again- I’m not exactly the kind of girl guys ever seem to notice. It feels really good when someone does. Sue me.”

Eddie wants to scream, jump on top of the cafeteria table and put on his usual theatrics to tell you how he feels. He’s noticed you, he’s wanted you- he should be the one taking you out, not Billy. 

“He said I was the prettiest girl he’s ever seen,” you say, and feel embarrassed as the words roll off your tongue. Your face falls. You think that someone finally likes you. Why couldn’t your friends be happy for you? You get up, leaving your lunch behind as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “I got to go, I wanna get to class early so I can study before my quiz,” you lie, poorly making an excuse so you can get up from the table. 

Eddie watches you walk out, and he wishes he had the courage to chase after you. But he didn’t. 

“We can’t let her go out with that douchebag,” Gareth states, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts. The table all agrees with Gareth- that they need to talk you out of it. However, Eddie knows you best and your mind is already made up. Nothing that your friends could say would make you change your mind. He was right.

Saturday night rolls around before he knows it, and Eddie is just full of absolute dread. He paces in his room, music blaring. He doesn’t want you to go- he knows how this ends, and all he wants to do is protect you. But- this is what you want, and who is he to deny you that? You wanted the experience- the guy with the cool car, the guy who knew all the right things to say… Eddie couldn’t give you any of that. He felt hopeless. 

The sound of the phone startles him, snapping him out of his train of thought. 

“Eddie it’s me,” you say, propping the phone receiver up on your elbow so you could hold outfits up to you in the mirror. 

“H-hey,” he says, surprised to be hearing from you. “Aren’t you supposed to be out on your date?”

“Not yet. Eddie- I know you hate him. But, I need your opinion on what to wear,” you say, a little frantic and toss another option that you decide is hideous onto the mountain of clothes you’ve made on your bed. 

Eddie wipes his face with his hand- this is the last thing he should be doing. He shouldn’t be talking to you about a date with another guy (who’s an asshole by the way), or discussing with you what you should wear to impress him. It hurts too much. For a brief moment, he can’t help but imagine if it were him- would you be calling Gareth for advice? What would you pick out for him? Eddie can’t help it as his mind wanders. 

“What are the options?” He asks, knowing it’s better not to fight it. He takes a seat on his bed as he hears you moving hangers around. 

“The black dress I wore to Gareth’s birthday party last year- you know, the short-ish one and I’d probably wear my jean jacket with it,” You bite your lip trying to envision the look. Eddie knows exactly which dress you’re referring to, and it makes him want to evaporate. The idea of you wearing that dress for Billy makes his blood boil. 

“Might be a little fancy for a movie,” he suggests, being honest but also not disclosing the real reasons why he wouldn’t want you to wear that dress. “What else?”

“I might have another dress,” you muse, looking through your closet. “Uh, maybe not, actually- but, I have my Levi’s and maybe that lace shirt I have that looks like Madonna?”

“Maybe something a little simpler?” He suggests. “Pick something comfortable- you don’t wanna wear something tight for the whole movie.” 

“The other idea was my white sweater- the ones with the little heart buttons and maybe my jean skirt? I could wear my Chucks with it…”

“I think that’s the one you should go with,” Eddie says, honestly. He knows that outfit well- it’s one that you wear a lot. Secretly, it’s always been one of his favorites, but he’ll never admit it out loud. 

“Thanks, Eddie,” you reply and Eddie can hear you smile through the phone. He thinks his heart might beat completely out of his chest. “Can I call you when I get home after?” you ask, a little apprehensive. There’s an unspoken tension neither of you are willing to acknowledge. You think it’s just because Eddie  and the others don’t want you to go out with Billy- and this is true. But the truth is much more complicated than you are aware of as Eddie tries to hold back his feelings for you. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a contented sigh. You feel relief wash over you. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I get home!” you reply, giddy in anticipation. You say goodbye quickly and hang up the phone so you can get dressed. It was almost 7:00pm so Billy was going to be there any minute. 

At 6:55pm, you begin anxiously waiting by the front door, trying to calm your nerves by breathing deeply and slowly. At 7:02pm, you're pacing and peeking out from between the blinds everytime you think you see headlights. At 7:13, you’re telling yourself that maybe you got the time wrong and he actually said 7:30pm. At 7:17pm, you’re sitting on the steps in the foyer- your leg bouncing up and down to rid yourself of your anxious energy. At 7:24pm, dread swells up inside you, maybe he’s not coming. At 7:32, you hear the car horn and Billy’s car waits for you in your driveway. 

For a brief moment, you feel yourself pout. It wasn’t a big deal, but you thought that he’d come up the front steps and knock when he came to pick you up. And for a brief moment, you’re reminded that Eddie always does- even the one time your house hadn’t been shoveled yet and he walked up to the house through the snow and the legs of his jeans were soaked- but that's Eddie. You tell yourself that it's old fashioned to expect a guy to come to the door so you shake the thoughts away. You have the same feeling of disappointment bubbling up to the surface again, when he doesn’t walk around the car to get the door for you. You tell yourself to drop it, no one does that anymore- you need to lower your expectations. 

You wonder how someone who drives so fast could be so late- thinking to yourself as Billy sped out of your driveway and down your block before you managed to get your seatbelt on. You tell yourself you’re being too judgmental, and that you need to lighten up. You remind yourself about what you want to focus on. It’s Saturday night, and you’re on a date with one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen and he’s stealing glances at you with his really, really pretty blue eyes. 

Billy brought you to a slasher movie, thinking you’d hate it. He expected you to cuddle up to him, hide your face in his shoulder… perfect opportunities for him to get you closer. He doesn’t expect you to be really into it. He watches you watch the movie, and he’s a little taken aback. Who goes to the drive-in and actually watches the movie? You apparently. 

“You’re so far away, Princess,” Billy remarks. You’re still sitting on the opposite side of the bench seat as you’d been watching the movie. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness when he practically tells you that he wants you close. 

“Oh,” you realize, your voice soft. The sound of his voice pulling you away from the movie just long enough to slide closer to him. Billy wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he thought it was adorable- the way you slide over to him, your eyes not leaving the movie. He lifts up his right arm and rests it across the backs of the seats, effectively wrapping his arm around you when it slings down over your shoulder. 

Inside you’re freaking out a little bit- not necessarily because it was Billy who had his arm around you, but because this was a moment you’d imagined happening to you so many times. He was so handsome, and popular- so many things, and he wanted you. He wanted you closer so he could wrap his arm around you. The feeling of being desirable made butterflies swarm in your stomach. 

“You aren’t scared, Princess?” Billy asks, his lips right by your ear, and his left hand settling on your thigh right at the edge of your skirt. You couldn’t see his smirk, thinking he knows how it plays out. Like it has a million times before with him. He plans on having you in the backseat any moment now. 

“Not really,” you shrug, a giggle escaping your lips as his hair tickles your neck. “I love scary movies,” you volunteer, sharing something about yourself. Billy doesn’t do that- he won’t offer up something even if that simple. “What about you?” You ask, and it takes him back. 

“Uh, yeah,” Billy says, not sure how to react to you. This isn’t how this works. He wasn’t here for conversation. He wanted to kiss you, slide his hands up your sweater and find those cute little heart buttons on the floor of his car a few weeks from now. He wanted to keep letting his hand on your thigh slide up further, see what your panties look like. 

You can’t help but feel disappointed at his answer. You were expecting more than just a one word response. Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get to know each other? You hate how the silence is heavy in the car. You having a fleeting thought about Eddie- if he was here, you’d both be making fun of the terrible effects and chatting about everything and nothing the whole time. You redirect your focus back to the movie, thinking maybe Billy doesn’t want to miss anything you reason. 

“Did you know how they got it to look like that?” You lean over and ask Billy, and then you offer some information on how the special effects in the movie work. Billy looks over at you, wide eyed. Partially because, one- he’s surprised that you’re trying to talk to him, he’s not used to that and two- he’s actually surprised that he’s interested in what you have to say, and he’s enjoying listening to you talk. It stirs a feeling in him that he doesn’t recognize and it’s one he will refuse to let out. But, in the moment- just you and him in his car, he lets himself enjoy you and what you’re saying. 

A little while later, there is one scene that’s a particularly gore-filled jump scare and Billy can feel you become startled. He can’t help himself watching you watch the movie. He gently tugs you a little closer to his side like he’s wanted to all night. When he feels your body relax, he decides the moment is right. 

He slowly guides his left hand to your cheek and tilts your face up to his, resting your chin on his index finger. He can feel goosebumps on your arm where his other hand is wrapped around your shoulders. He revels in the feeling of being the one to have this effect on you. 

You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you realize that Billy is leaning in to kiss you. He was so close to you and it was dizzying. This was exactly how you imagined your first kiss to be. The anticipation was infuriating as he took his time leaning in, smirking at the way you react to him. It was all almost too much. 

Until it actually happens. It’s objectively a good kiss- a great kiss. It’s exactly how you picture your first kiss. It’s textbook. And Billy is a good kisser, and his lips are so soft and his cologne smells so good. But, you’re disappointed- the infamous spark you hoped to feel just isn’t there. You blame yourself, having built up this moment so much in your head. You feel so foolish, expecting it to be this earth shattering feeling- but it’s just a kiss. You tell yourself that it’s perfect. 

Kissing you makes Billy’s head spin. He tries his best to not focus on it, he hates the fact the taste of your vanilla chapstick makes his knees feel weak. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. He tries his best to keep his thoughts at bay but he can’t do anything to calm the way his heart pounds in his chest being pulled in close to you. He’s addicted, and his urge to make you his- and only his- pollutes his entire consciousness. He doesn’t want anyone else but him to know you like this. This is something he wants to lock away just for him.  

He’s never been jealous or possessive like this- not for a girl before. Anxiety bottles up inside him thinking about losing you, not being able to kiss you like this. He wants this all just for him. The idea of your lips on someone else’s makes him see red. No one else can have you is all he can think about when your breathy little moans hit his ears. Suddenly, he’s petrified that you’re gonna slip away and there’s so much more that he wants. He’s never felt so overwhelmed from a kiss before. 

A loud scene in the movie snaps you both back to reality. The sudden sound playing through the speaker makes you jump, startling back away from the heated kiss. Billy first instinct is to be annoyed, but he finds himself instead- amused. He strangely finds it endearing, and suddenly, the brief emotion evaporated as he looks at you. He’s puzzled, all of this is new- but he wants to bottle it up and throw away the key, keeping you just like this. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles with a lazy smile, tugging you back over to him. He wraps his arms around you, and scoops you into his lap. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his waist. His hands wrap around your back, holding you in close to him- chests flush with each other. “You’re cute, princess,” he praises, pressing his lips to your jaw and neck, greedy to illicit every little noise from you that he can. 

He kisses you again and your mind is so fuzzy. You didn’t think you’d end up like this. You envisioned a kiss- maybe a kiss when he dropped you off. Your fantasies were so chaste compared to where the night seems to be going- where Billy wants it to go. The sensation of being so enveloped by him is too much. You think you want this, but you are too inexperienced to be totally sure. It’s all moving so fast. Your hand falls back when you feel him bite into your neck, and you moan softly at the sensation too wrapped up in your thoughts to care that he’s leaving a hickey. 

“Gonna make you mine, Princess,” Billy moans close to your ear before connecting his lips to yours again. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you and despite how good it feels- you panic just a little bit. It was all happening so fast for you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, softly- pulling away to look at him- read his face. Was it just talk or was he admitting he wanted something real? The idea of that makes your heart feel like it’s racing. “Like… you want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask, innocently. 

Billy didn’t mean that, he didn’t know what he meant. He just knows that he’s craving you and wants to have you all to himself. He’ll say whatever he thinks will make that happen. “Yeah… of course,” he murmurs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Billy Hargrove wanted you to be his girlfriend. You couldn’t believe it, you felt over the moon. Your grin spread across your face from ear to ear. This was it, tonight was everything you thought you wanted. Someone chose you, finally saw you and wanted you. Relief washed over you, the fear of being alone subsided because he was here, wanting to pull you in closer. Not knowing any better, you let him in. 

Jumping in with both feet, you let Billy take the lead- so wrapped up in the idea of him that you weren’t prepared for what that would actually mean to be his. You just wanted someone so badly, so sick with the heavy feeling of loneliness that you felt so committed to keeping this feeling in its place. You didn’t even know if you actually liked him- you didn’t know him that well. But, he liked you, and told you all the things you wanted to hear. You thought he was perfect- that the moment was perfect. You ignore Eddie’s voice in the back of your mind, reminding you of how terrible the idea was getting with Billy. 

He’s driving you home when he speaks again, and it catches you off guard. 

“I don’t want you hanging around with those guys,” Billy says absentmindedly. He was thinking about Monday at school- how he’d have to see you with your friends, Eddie hanging all over you. “They’re trouble- not good for you Princess.” 

“Who? Hellfire?” You ask with a laugh. “Trust me, they're harmless.” 

“They aren’t… you shouldn’t hang around guys like that,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh. “They just want you- you think they’re your friends but they aren’t.” His mind lingers on Eddie, knowing how Eddie must feel about you. He can’t have him swooping in and stealing you away. He won’t let that happen. 

“They’re all into weird shit… trust me, baby- they’re trouble and I don’t trust them around you. They’ll just want to break us up.” 

“But they’re my friends..,” you try to insist. He shakes his head and you see his knuckles wrap tighter around the steering wheel. You do your best to ignore it. He bites his lip, holding back his anger. 

“You can’t hang out with them anymore,” he declares and it’s an absolute. 

You know it’s not right, but you confuse Billy’s possessiveness as his own way of caring about you, wanting to keep you safe. You rationalize it, you understand how it looks to have so many guy friends. It’s normal for a boyfriend to not want his girlfriend around other guys, right? At the red light, he kisses you again and all apprehension melts away. For now, when he’s kissing you like this- wanting you like this, you’ll give into anything he asks. 

You’ll worry about this on Monday. 

PART TWO

TAGLIST: @fandom-princess-forevermore @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @spookysace24 @crispystarfishhottub @4billy @let-love-bleeds-red @supersecretsamm

[bookshelf-dust]

stubborn

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @hawkinsboys

word count: 2,970

warnings: swearing, a couple sexualish comments, mechanic!billy, enemies to lovers type beat, set post-college

synopsis: working with billy hargrove is the bane of your existence. you can’t stand him. can’t stand how gorgeous he is. or that he might not be the bad guy you thought he was.

a/n: hi lovelies!! it’s been forever since i wrote for billy—most of which is due to focusing on school and all the writing i do for that, but also i just hadn’t had any good ideas for him. but alas, this one came to me, and i think it turned out pretty cute. let me know what you think!! lets yap about him!!! ♥️

————

“Nah, you’re all good, Mrs. Peterson.” 

Billy says your name, amiably walking the elderly woman up to the front desk with one hand hovering behind her in case she needs to be steadied. “She’ll take care of you, and if you need anything else you can give us a call.” 

Mrs. Peterson grins, patting the skin on Billy’s forearm. She slips him a butterscotch candy. You cringe when he winks and pulls the plastic wrapping away, popping the treat in his mouth. He hates butterscotch, but he eats it whenever Mrs. Peterson comes in to get her oil changed because she always gives him something to snack on. 

Fucking kiss-ass, you think. 

“Thank you, sweetie.” Her gaze shifts to you as she settles her pocketbook on the countertop and begins digging around inside. “Nice boy, that one. Makes me happy to see that boys are still being raised properly.” She rubs her chest.

Her glasses slide down the bridge of her nose. “If I were you, young lady, I’d be sure to snatch up a man that well-rounded before it’s too late.”

Your palms go all sweaty just as the cash drawer opens. If only she knew. You start counting out her change. “Mrs. Peterson, Billy and I are just coworkers. Besides, I’m not really his type.”

The woman sighs. “What’s all this about types? If you like someone, you like them. You kids make things much too complicated nowadays.”

“Tell me about it,” you mutter under your breath. You watch as Mrs. Peterson grabs a mint from the counter on her way out. 

A quick glance at the clock has you rolling your eyes. It’s just you and Billy on shift today, no buffer between you to keep the peace, or at least prevent you from having to look at him for too long. You don’t have another appointment for close to two hours. Your nails tap against the vinyl tabletop. There’s a Dr. Pepper you left in the back of the fridge—maybe that’ll help you power through. 

You turn around and your entire body jolts. “Jesus fuck!”

Billy laughs. “Sorry, sugar. Figured you heard me walk over.”

“I was too busy thinking of how I could avoid you until our next appointment gets here.”

He crosses his arms and leans up against the doorframe. He’s so stupidly attractive when he does that that it makes you want to knee him in the balls. “How sweet. Anyway, I’m gonna go pick up lunch. You want me to get you somethin’?”

“I’m good.”

You start towards the break room. Billy steps to the side and blocks your path. “I’m going to that sandwich place up the street. What do you want?”

You duck below Billy’s arm. He just lowers it so you can’t get around him. 

“I said I’m good.”

Billy’s gaze drops to your mouth and back up to your eyes. He takes a step closer to you, enough so that you can smell his cologne. You tell him at least once a week that you hate it, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t cherished the way it lingers after he leaves a room. 

“And I asked what you want. You didn’t bring lunch.”

You scoff. “How the fuck would you know that?” You raise your hands, gesturing with them as you fuss at him. 

“Because every morning you come in here with all those fuckin’ bags and you were missing one. Probably because you were late.”

“Oh, right, because I can control when my car won’t start and then there’s an accident on the freeway!” 

Billy’s arms drop. “Your car wouldn’t start?”

“Go get your lunch, Billy.”

He keeps his eyes on yours when he snatches his keys off the hook under the front desk. “You want a pickle today or no?”

“Oh my god, Billy!” 

You practically shove him out the front door and then flip the welcome sign to say Be Back Soon! He blows a kiss at you from the driver's seat of his car. You flip him off in return and just know he’s laughing when he pulls out of the parking lot.

When he gets back, you’re chugging your Dr. Pepper. For a moment, you’d been scared that one of the other mechanics on shift the past few days would’ve taken it, especially because you forgot to write your initials on the cap. 

It bothers you that Billy realized you’d forgotten to pack lunch. It bothers you that he knows what time you get to work. It bothers you that he could tell you’re hungry. But at the same time, knowing that he pays enough attention to you to know those things—it sends a startling recognition down your throat. Your shoulders stiffen.

You like that he knows those things. And you hate it, because he is the last person you want to feel any attraction towards. 

You inhale through your nose and hold your eyes closed for a few seconds before you exhale. You’re not going to think about that right now. 

You make your way back to the front of the shop. A frown forms on your face when you see that Billy has set up on your desk, housing his lunch. There’s a matching sandwich across from him. 

“Jesus, Billy, I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

His throat works as he swallows. Your eyes drag down the length of his neck, all thick veins and lustrous skin. 

“And I told you I don’t give a fuck. Eat.”

A spark of anger rises to the forefront of your thoughts. You want to tell him not to boss you around, but you pause, feeling like that will only make you sound like a petulant child. You might as well stomp your feet and squeal. 

You sit down on your stool with a huff. You look Billy in the eye and rip the paper covering your sandwich. “Fuck you.”

Billy sucks something off the tip of his thumb and laughs through his nose.

“Do you have to be such a priss all the time?” he asks. “Just accept when people do shit for you. Say thank you or somethin,’ even.”

“Don’t worry, I promise I save all my prissiness for you, Hargrove.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Thank God for that.”

“What? I heard you talking up Mrs. Petersen earlier. Yes, ma’am. No ma’am. Of course ma’am. Do you need your feet rubbed, ma’am?”

“Funny.”

“You’re so good at wrapping everyone around your finger. It’s nauseating.”

“And you aren’t? You’d think you got some condition with how often you bat your eyelashes.”

“It’s called being nice? Customers are supposed to come back, not run screaming because one of you was a dick.”

Billy scoffs, shaking his styrofoam cup around. “That was quite literally one time.”

“You were a dick to that lady! She wrote a hate letter and copied it and then put it up outside the library and Benny’s and fuckin’ Melvald’s!”

“Oh, come on.” He says your name once more. There’s something about the way he says it that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like he might as well be whispering it directly into your ear. “You know she was a total bitch! She kept asking me if I was old enough to be working here and telling me that my hair was a safety hazard and that I should cut it. Then, when she asked where I was from and I told her, she said, and I quote, ‘Hawkins used to be a nice place. You west coasters are killing all the mom and pops.’ What does that have to do with me?”

You’re silent for a minute. You absolutely know he’s right. But do you want to admit that? No.

“She’s kind of right about your hair though. You always forget to tie it up. Even I wor—notice it when you’re under a car and cringe.”

You hope Billy hasn’t caught your slip up, but by the look on his face, he totally has. A smirk plays on his lips. She worries about me, it says. Before the conversation can go any further, you grab hold of his wrist where it’d been resting on the counter. His brows raise in confusion, less from the fact that it’s random and more because you’ve literally never touched him before. 

He watches as you roll a hair tie off of your forearm and onto his. You give it a playful snap once it’s settled at the joint of his wrist. “There,” you say. “No more excuses now, Hargrove. And thanks for the sandwich.”

He never noticed you take it, but when he snaps out of his daze brought on watching your hips sway as you walk away, it’s gone from where he left it.

————

Billy is worried. It’s past the time you could be even remotely late to work. You’re not there. You’re not at work.

He doesn’t second guess himself when he looks you up in the book—never having been given your number—and dials. Straight to voicemail. What the fuck?

It’s unlike you to just not show up. Surely you would’ve called out if something happened. But Billy asked around, and no one else on shift has heard a thing.

The phone at the front desk rings. Normally, you’d be the one to answer, but you’re not here. Billy hastily picks it up. 

“Roane Park Automotive, this is Billy.”

“Billy!”

He says your name, along with a slew of other curses. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you here?”

“Um, about that. Do you remember when I mentioned that my car wouldn’t start?”

“You mean when I tried to talk to you about it and you brushed me off?”

“Save it. Anyway, it broke down this morning. I thought I could fix it myself but my knowledge is limited to what my dad taught me—which it turns out, isn’t much. I had someone try to help me jump it off, but that didn’t work either. So I walked—

“You walked?”

“Let me finish! I walked to the nearest pay phone and well, here we are.”

“Keep your pretty little ass right where it is. I’m coming to get you.” 

“It’s fine, really. I just need a tow, I guess? I don’t know. I can call someone else or—

“Hush. Give me a landmark or something—I still haven’t learned the names of these damn roads.”

When Billy gets to you, he swears his head is gonna explode. You’re sitting on the hood of your car, swinging your legs. Swinging your legs. You’re driving him insane. He thinks he could be truly mad at you if you didn’t look so damn cute while doing the most obnoxious thing you could be doing. 

He calls your name and you wave from your seat, quickly sliding down to meet him. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he huffs.

You guffaw. “Okay, wow. What ever happened to hello?”

Billy opens your driver's side door and presses the switch to unlatch your hood. He’s popping it within seconds. “I fuckin’ told you to let me look at your car. You had me worrying my ass off up there, thinking something happened to you—”

“You were worried about me?”

Billy glares at you, his hand somewhere within the depths of your car. You might work in a shop, but you don’t know a thing when it comes to cars. 

“You never listen. You know how infuriating that is?” 

Of course he’s avoiding the question. 

“Why do you expect me to listen to you, Hargrove?”

The sound of metal on metal makes you cringe. “I don’t know, maybe cuz it’s basic fuckin’ decency to listen to people trying to help you?”

“Yeah, well some people are just assholes and not worth listening to.”

Billy straightens so fast you’re worried he’s gonna hit his head. You hate the way your arm jolts, wanting to protect him from injury. 

“Who are you calling an asshole, princess?”

You cross your arms. “I think you know who,” you say. 

Billy steps into your space, slamming the hood of your car shut so hard it makes you blink. Now's as good a time as any, he thinks. 

“You gonna tell me what the fuck your problem is already or just keep prancing around me for the rest of our lives?”

You roll your eyes. It infuriates him. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit!”

“You’re just a prick, okay? You always have been! Ever since you showed up in Hawkins. You have this—this God complex!”

Billy has the nerve to laugh. Fully tosses his head back and laughs, slapping the side of your car. 

“So what, you went to school with me for a couple years and now we work together and you think you know me?”

“I know your kind, Billy! You’re all the fucking same!”

If possible, he gets even closer to you. “And what’s my kind, sweetheart?” 

“Oh, I think you know. Maybe we only went to high school together our last year, but this town is fucking small! I couldn’t escape you in college, even after I changed my major. You act like your shit doesn’t stink, Billy.”

He laughs again. 

“You listen to your loud music and there’s always a new mark on your neck, a new girl on your arm—usually the skinniest, bleach blonde girl—and you never spare anyone a glance if they’re not up to your standards. That I know. I wasn’t a cheerleader in high school and I wasn’t begging to suck your dick and I sure as hell didn’t fall for your reformed bad boy shit in college! You’re just another gorgeous guy who’s an absolute asshole.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Billy asks. He crosses his arms, mimicking you. It makes you want to slap him. Maybe kiss him stupid. 

“Oh, fuck off! That’s exactly what I mean! It’s all about reputation with guys like you, about notches on your belt or how many people you need to stomp on before people start calling you a king.”

When Billy reaches out to straighten your shirtsleeve from where it’s folded in on itself, you don’t flinch or even think about punching him. 

“I’m not a tyrant, babe. And have you ever, for just a second, considered that all that shit was a defense mechanism? Or does that not fit the bill you’ve got written up in that pretty little head of yours?”

You don’t say anything. Billy can see your brain recalculating.

Finally, “I don’t think being a prick calls for a healthy defense mechanism. Ever heard of therapy? Or like, fucking running? Or I don’t know! It’s always the pretty ones who are jack—”

Billy shuts you up the only way he can think to. The only way he’s wanted to for months. He kisses you. And he’s good at it. You start to lose yourself in it before the intelligent part of your brain sends alarm signals to the rest of you, making you pull away. One look at Billy has your knees going weak. 

His lips are swollen and this deep pink color that makes them look more enticing, if that’s even possible. His pupils are blown and the weight of his hand on the back of your neck is hypnotizing. 

“What?” he questions. You both just stare at each other for a moment. You smack him on the arm. It’s the only thing you could think to do. Billy looks down at his arm, his brows knitting together, and then back up at you. There’s the start of a grin on his face. 

He lets out an oomph sound when you grab his shirt collar and yank his mouth back to yours. He’s smiling into the kiss, letting out these little breathy laughs against your lips and when he slides a hand down your spine you swear you don’t know how you’ve lived your life thus far without knowing what it felt like to kiss Billy Hargrove. 

You kiss him hard, enough to express that you’re head over heels for him and can’t even find it in yourself to be angry about it. You pull away and take a few steps back. 

Billy is watching you, trying to figure out what your next move will be. He reaches out and swipes his thumb against the corner of your mouth. 

In an effort to put off discussing the fact that you just made out on the side of the road, you try to finish your argument from moments before. 

“You really did used to be an asshole, Billy. I couldn’t stand being around you, seeing how you treated everyone—I don’t know.”

Billy shakes his head. “No, you’re right. I was an asshole. But what I said about it being a defense mechanism was true. A shitty life made a shitty guy, you know? I’d hope you could tell that I’m not that guy anymore now, but clearly I still get under your skin.”

“It’s easier to fight with you than admit you can be that gorgeous and not a total dick and also that you can be those things and like me at the same time.”

Billy laughs lowly and steps back into your space. “I can do all that and more, pretty girl. Let me prove it to you.”

You let Billy kiss you again, slower this time. “I’ll think about it,” you say. Neither of you say anything for a moment. 

Billy chuckles under his breath. “Reformed bad boy.”

You swat him on the arm. “Leave me alone!” You giggle. 

“Your alternator’s fucked, by the way.”

You blink. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Come on. Get your ass in the car. You can fuss at me some more on the way back to the shop.”

“As long as you kiss me to shut me up again.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 1)

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

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

______________________________________________________________

You have always watched him from a distance.

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

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

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

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

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

"You alright?"

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

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

"We’re in History class together, right?

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

"Yes. That's right."

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

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

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

"Yes. Moved here last month."

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that for, man?”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Kinda boring, huh?” 

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

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

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

“The museum?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Big change of scenery.”

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

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

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

“I can take you one day.”

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

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

“So, you told me you know the city.”

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

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

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

“Sweet. You hungry?” 

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

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

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

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

Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.” 

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

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

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

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

He just winks at you. And even if he’s not smiling or anything, it still makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way."

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

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

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

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

“It is. I’ve always lived by the ocean.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff.”

“You’ve read some of him before?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look up at him in question. 

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

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

“Would’ve sure as hell noticed if you were there.”

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

“You alright?” you hear him ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just don’t hang out with anyone, trust me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

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

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

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

“I know.” he chuckles. 

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me when you feel like it.” 

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

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

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

“You too. Bye.”

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