baileebear

[baileebear]

Steve is one of those men that reads smutty romantic fantasy books. It goes something like this.

Eddie: A human prince comes across your party. He appears from the woods as if he has been waiting for you.

Dustin: Roll for perception.

Dustin: 13

Eddie: You look at him and take notice of his sharp, delicate features. He’s slender and despite the heavy gear he carries, his back fails to bend under the weight. You feel immediately at ease around his charming smile and graceful movements.

Mike: That’s seems suspicious.

Lucas: Maybe he’s a changling?

Steve from off to the side: He’s an Elf.

The entire party turns towards him, taken aback by his observation.

Dustin: Oh that could totally be it!

Eddie: How did you know that?

Steve’s face rapidly reddened.

Steve:…Books?

Dustin: You’ve never read a DnD manual.

Steve: Not that kind of book..

The party all stares as him a little confused and Eddie breaks into violent laughter.

Eddie: Those kinds of books?! Really?

Steve simply glares at him while the rest of the party stares on in confusion.

Eddie: You into role play, your highness? If you’d like I can assist you later.

Steve grumbles before getting up and leaving. Eddie later finds him reading a very explicit fantasy book.

(Disclaimer: I don’t know shit about DnD except what I searched up for this. Sorry if it isn’t correct.)

[baileebear]

macarons

[baileebear]

AU where Eddie takes his dog to the dog park almost every day being he saw a hot guy there once and is trying to manufacture a meet cute.

He actually succeeds in striking up a conversation with Hot Guy. His name is Steve and he’s there with Dustin. Eddie tells him about his own pup, Zeppelin.

They’re talking about the black eye Steve got at work last week when Eddie jokingly flirts that he could take him in a fight. Steve looks like he’s going to flirt back when a loud voice from his left pipes up like, “You could definitely take him in a fight. Everybody can. He gets beat up all the time.”

“I don’t get beat up all the time,” Steve scoffs, voice flipping from his soft spoken flirting to that of an annoyed older brother. He glared at the kid that appeared next to him, “I thought you were looking for rocks. Go find rocks.”

“I did,” The kid says, nonplussed about the tone being directed at him. “You want one? So you can defend yourself when you get beat up again.”

Eddie hides a smile when Steve looks every bit as annoyed as he is. The kid smiles at him, “This one looks like a tomahawk. Want it?”

“Yeah, I’ll take it,” Steve eventually says. He waves a hand at this kid like, “This is Dustin. Bane of my existence.”

“I thought you were a dog,” Eddie admits, accepting the rock the kid gives him.

“Yeah, he does that on purpose.”

[baileebear]

Need a fic where Dustin goes into Hellfire real strong about Steve Harrington being his best friend and no one believes him. So he tries to prove it but Steve is just not working with him.

Like, he’s goes, “No, seriously. We’re best friends. Practically brothers. He’s going to pick me up today, just you see.”

But then Keith got sick so Steve’s stuck at work until closing so Claudia picks him up. She waved at him from the driver’s seat and Eddie is just like, “That you Steve Harrington or am I dreaming?”

“Ew, don’t say that.”

Eddie drives the boys to a game shop the next town over and on the way back, Dustin gets Eddie to stop in Loch Nora. He’ll prove that Steve is his friend.

But Steve isn’t home when they knock on his door and Steve’s dad doesn’t know who Dustin is (they’ve met three times). Dustin is just like, “Son of a bitch, thanks for nothing.”

Dustin decides he’s going to prove himself once and for all because the Hellfire boys keep giving him pitying looks. He invites Eddie over for dinner and then calls Steve like, “After work, be here.”

Except the reception was shitty so Steve heard “Ben-Hur” and just dropped the movie off with Claudia. He went home and never showed up for dinner. Dustin asked his mom to tell Eddie that he’s friends with Steve. She does but it sounds like a lie.

So he goes to the source.

He drags Eddie into Family Videos and tells Steve to tell him that they’re friend, but…Steve doesn’t. He blatantly ignores him. He helps customers. He types on the computer. He doesn’t acknowledge Dustin at all until finally, Dustin asks, “Is this about the tape?”

“Yes, it’s about the tape!” Steve explodes in exasperation. “It’s late! It’s on my account. I’m getting fees!”

“Oh my god, I’ll bring you the movie. Just say we’re friends.”

“Yes! We’re friends.”

But by then, Eddie had already left.

[baileebear]

The first time Wayne meets Steve Harrington, he is nine years old and it's Career Day.

Every year a bunch of people crowd into the gym to tell the kids what they do for a living. This year, Wayne drew the short straw and was sent to represent the plant he works at.

He wasn't expecting his measly poster board to attract a lot of attention compared to the other booths with their models and hangouts. So, it's a little surprising when a kid with big eyes and wild hair marches straight up to him and asks, "What do you do?"

"Plant work."

The kid tilted his head, "Like a gardener?"

"More like an electrician."

The kid stood up a little straighter. His eyes went a little wider the way that his nephew's eyes do when he was interested in something, "Like lightbulbs and wires?"

"Yeah," Wayne answered, and then was immediately assaulted by a series of questions.

The questions were specific like the kid had read a book on electrical work but hadn't quite wrapped his head around it. It made Wayne think of Eddie, many miles away with Al, and all his many weird special interests. He smiled but then the kid asked, "But what if you can't turn the electricity off first? Will you die? I'm Steve, by the way."

"Hi, Steve," Wayne said and then made it very clear, "You should not be messing with any wires without adult supervision. It's very dangerous and you can get hurt."

Steve just huffed at that and then ran off when he saw Mr. Hagan at his booth. He was giving out toothbrushes.

Wayne doesn't think much of that kid after he leaves the school. He doesn't have much reason to until there's a loud insistent knocking on his front door an hour after he got off shift a couple days later.

"...What are you doing here?"

"Hi, I'm Steve. We met before..." The kid said, fidgeting when Wayne just stared at him bewildered. "I asked Mrs. Byers at Melvards where you live. I see you there sometimes."

Wayne raised an eyebrow and Steve rushed, "I need a grown up with super-vision."

This was how Wayne found himself on Saturday morning in the front hall of the painfully empty Harrington household. Steve was beckoning him along and showing him a burnt outlet. He gave Wayne a very serious look, "I need help fixing it."

"Why don't you wait until your parents get back from...?"

"No!" Steve snapped at him. "I'm in charge! Dad said that I have to take care of the house and, and-"

"I don't think he was referring to something like this, kid."

"Yes, he was!" Steve insisted. "Cause I - 'Cause I told him that the lights were flickering when Mama called and he said to figure it out so. So, I got you. That's deli-gate-tion."

And that was how Wayne found himself standing in the Harrington basement with a flashlight and a kid with a death grip on his pant leg. Wayne was looking at the marks on the breaker box where the kid clearly tried to pry it open with a screwdriver when Steve tugged on his leg, "Can you see inside it with your super vision?"

Jesus, Wayne thought and then dedicated the rest of his day to showing this kid exactly why he should not be messing around with electrical wires and maybe. Just maybe, inspiring a future electrician. 

[baileebear]

if nintendo wants me to pay eighty of god's own dollars for a video game it better blow the cock clean off my torso. if nintendo expects me to drop eighty big ones to play the new mario kart bowser better step out of the screen and fuck me so hard as to turn every bone south of my eighth vertebrae into a fine powder. i need to be made into the worlds wettest sandbag from the waist down to justify that eighty dollar price tag

[baileebear]

+18 thoughts of husband!steve x pregnant!reader because--

You thought that becoming pregnant, your belly swelling and becoming bigger would not be appealing to Steve anymore. You understood it, even if you wanted to, you would respect it.

You couldn't be more wrong.

It happened one day. One random day.

It was a saturday, you asked for an early maternity leave from work, knowing that the temperature was not going to be your best friend in this pregnancy. You were not even doubting it anymore, not caring for the stretch marks that could be seen. You were getting into the fucking pool. So you threw on your new bikini, because your breasts are almost double the size now, and then you had to sit down in order to pull the bottom part on you. And Steve--

He was out in the garden, under the summer heat and the sun kissing his skin just right. He was shirtless, helping you tend your flowers, knowing you cannot bend down as easily as before, and your back screams at you if you do so. You smiled as you looked at him through the kitchen window, preparing some lemonade for him. He had already cleaned the pool, and you knew that Steve loves summer and doesn’t mind it, but it was still hot out there.

You walked out, tray in hand, the sun hitting your skin as you stepped down the little stairs and your feet hit the grass below your feet. You hummed in relief, feeling the fresh cut grass, and the freshness from also being watered. You walked towards Steve, his back still turned to you, and you could already see the color of a tan on his skin. You made sure your husband was covered in sunscreen before heading out, and you were glad you did.

“Hey, I have some lemonade.” Your voice snapped him out from his intense work, smiling as he got up, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He turned around, and you didn’t see how his eyes were scanning you all over, the sunglasses covering any evidence of it. His chest hairs were all damp in his sweat, and your hormones were screaming at you to have him, but you didn’t want to overstep with him that way.

It’s been two months since the last time you two had sex. You assumed it was because of your belly suddenly blowing up out of nowhere. You were bigger, and your baby moved inside your belly a lot. Right now, he was asleep, so you could happily get into the cold water for some relief. 

Steve reached one glass of lemonade, full of ice and little leaves of mint. You saw how he gulped the glass in one single gulp, surprising you. You moved towards the small garden table, putting the tray down. Your hands found the bottle of sunscreen that he left there, and you wanted to make sure your belly was fully covered, so you squirted a bit at the top of it and passed your hands all over.

You didn’t notice how Steve was looking at you. How your movements were making him lose his self control bit by bit. He held back the past two months, knowing the stretching of skin was not that comfortable, and the baby was being very active on you. He heard your complaints, your little whines of pain at night when the baby didn’t let you sleep. 

But fuck, you didn’t know what you did to Steve.

He knew he had a breeding kink. That is the exact reason you two were in this situation right now. When you gave him the go to start trying, he went feral. Every day or every two days, he was on you. He wanted a baby with you, yes or yes. He wanted to see you round with his baby, making you a proud mama with his own child. 

And you looked marvelous. Right now, with that bikini on you, your breasts, your belly, your entire body was just making him strain in his own swim shorts. He watched you slowly get inside the pool by the steps, your body contorting a little at the feel of the cold water on your skin, and the moment he heard you moan from relief was the point of no return from him.

He dropped the garden gloves to the floor, threw the sunglasses on the table, long strides heading your way to the pool. You smiled up at him as your hands held your belly from underneath, feeling relief that the water was helping you not feel the weight of your belly. He professionally dove in, his arms up and jumping in with a forward position. You giggled as you stood a little closer to the less shallow part of the pool, your shoulders just coming out of the surface.

You saw him finally coming up, shaking his head and wiping his face as he immediately started swimming your way. He stood in front of you, a smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“You came in to freshen up?” He asked and you nodded, his hands coming to rest on your waist, rubbing your skin softly. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot today and well, I feel it ten times more than normal.” His eyes found purchase on your breasts for a second and then back up to your eyes.

“Mhm, it is pretty hot… you know what else is hot?” You tilted your head slightly, his face coming to your neck, his lips kissing your skin softly, tasting a bit of chlorine from the water. “You look so good in this bikini…” 

You were surprised to hear that, your eyes widening slightly at the change of events. You didn’t think Steve would even try to make a move on you, at least not until you got your baby out of you. Your body lit up in flames once more, and the cold water was not taming them down at all. His lips kept kissing your skin, going down to your shoulder. 

In just two seconds, your arms were straightened over the edge of the pool, the lower part of your bikini pushed aside, as your husband railed into you, the water splashing behind your back and your sides. You were trying to hold your moans in, lips into your mouth as your head was thrown back. Pregnancy has made you more sensitive. Nipples, clit, your insides, just everywhere. Even your skin felt more sensitive.

He was groaning as he looked all over your body, and fuck it was doing it for him. It was doing so many things to him. You looked so beautiful as he moved in and out of you, the water not being his best friend right now. He wanted to go faster but obviously, it was not possible. He cursed at himself for not being able to hold himself back for a few more minutes and get out of the pool to have you on the grass at least.

You were whining, feeling the drag of his cock inside of you, the incoming climax warning you it was going to be a strong one. It’s been a while since you last had an orgasm, and this was going to kill you. 

“I can feel you baby, cum on me. Come on…” His lips found your neck again, kissing your pulse point, biting on it, sucking on it. The intense attention you were receiving also helped to have your senses heightened. Your walls fluttered around him, and your belly was tightening, which you didn’t think you would feel. Your body trembled underneath the water, and he wanted to rip that top off of you, but it was enough he was risking the neighbors seeing the two of you fucking in the pool.

Your eyes clenched tightly as you started seeing stars behind your eyelids, your legs gripping him tightly around his waist, your walls clenching completely around him, making him choke out a moan. He had also been pent up. Unlike you, Steve could jerk off, being able to reach, but if you couldn’t touch yourself, he wasn’t going to do it to himself either. 

Moans escaped you, trying to keep your mouth shut but failing as a little whimper came out, riding your orgasm out on him. His breaths grew frantic as he felt as if he was going to explode and then, he finally came inside of you. His hips jerked into you at each spurt he delivered in you. 

You two ended up breathing heavily and his lips found yours, desperately as he sat inside of you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, kissing him back as you felt him twitch once again. 

After that, Steve fucked you whenever he could and whenever you felt comfortable to do so.

Which was whenever as well.

He fucked you into the bed, in the couch, in the shower, in the kitchen. Just everywhere. You were in cloud nine, your libido and his matching perfectly despite the predicament of your belly. It was a little tricky sometimes to get comfortable, but Steve made sure you did. He made sure you were the one enjoying this the most. Not that he didn’t, but he cared for you more than he did for himself. 

There were times that he was spent, but you were still horny. He would go down on you there, fuck you with his fingers, with his tongue, even with his thigh so you would cum for a second time, even a third. He was there to please you, and he got off of it.

“You look so fucking good like this.” His voice was in your ear as you two laid on your sides, one hand pulling your left leg up as he railed into you from behind, spooning you. “Such a good mom already…”

His dirty talk got heavier, surprising you, but you didn’t mind it. You actually felt pleasure from his words, which were encouraging even if dirty. You would whisper soft ‘thank yous’ and you would call his name if he said something that really got you going.

You learnt that when wearing a dress, you should not be wearing any underwear. The moment Steve walks through the door and sees you in the kitchen, either washing dishes or cooking, he was on you. Pulling that summer dress up your hips as he got on his knees. All fours was a position that hurt you, but it didn’t if he ate you out. 

Another position you found yourself comfortable in, which surprised you, was being on top. Just for a little while. Your feet planted on the bed, crouching on him as you bounced up and down, your thighs helping your belly to not bounce on you. He was in awe each time you were on top, moaning your name like crazy, his eyes scanning your entire body as if you were the embodiment of Venus herself. 

“Steve, baby–” You felt so good, today you were clenching more than usual, fluttering all over him, and you were so wet that it dripped down onto his pubes. 

“So fucking good. You were destined to become a mom… fuck, and with my children–” He moaned at a particular drag you did, his hands grabbing yours, fingers intertwined as you used him for leverage. He felt you clench around him at his words, making him smirk, “Oh, you like that?”

“Uh huh–” You moaned out, feeling your orgasm approaching more than ever and he started moving his hips, thrusting up into you, making you gasp in pleasure.

“Such a good wife… You’re gonna be such a good mommy, aren’t you honey?” His words always are the little flame that made the fireworks in you explode, clenching around him like a vice, a loud moan escaping you as you trembled on top of him. He groaned loudly, his own orgasm crashing on him, your name tumbling out of his lips. “Fuck yes–”

Needless to say, your baby arrived much earlier than it was due.

--------------------------------------

[baileebear]

Steve: *Lying face down in bed*

Robin: He said he loved you?

Steve: Yeah…

Robin: And you asked him to marry you?

Steve: Yeah…

Robin: Even by lesbian standards that’s fast.

Robin: What did you do?

Steve: I ran before he could reject me.

Meanwhile…

Eddie: WAYNE HOLY SHIT IM GETTING MARRIED!!!

Wayne: *Spits coffee*

[baileebear]

Steve, after never really enjoying sex, gets fucked for the first time and his mind is blown (and also his back). He loves feeling full and being fucked and just the pleasure that he derives from being absolutely obliterated. 

The first time was sort of sloppy, Steve could tell as it happened that it wasn’t going to be the best time it ever happened but it was still a fun fuck. The guy, not someone Steve knew well, kept pulling Steve’s hair, which was nice but also kept whispering in his ear, which was not nice. 

It was you know… fine. He spent a while talking about it with Robin and trying to figure out if it was actually weird or just something Steve didn’t like. The jury was still out on that one.

The second time was much better, Steve figured out what he liked from the first time and, this one, a guy from one of the bars he and Robin frequented, bent Steve over the bathroom sink and ploughed into him until they were both sweaty and cumming. It was hot as fuck and Steve very much enjoyed that. 

After that, it calmed down, every time after that was with a boyfriend that Steve only really dated for a few weeks and then dumped. Robin would sigh each time he brought a guy home and ask him how long he thought they were staying around. Steve was never really sure how to answer that. It could be one night or it could be a few weeks, either way, it still meant something to Steve. 

He meets Eddie at a bar. Not really looking for anything but Steve dances with him and is just enamoured with the level of loser that Eddie exudes. He liked how Eddie didn’t think about those watching him and just… danced the way he liked or said the silly things he thought of. It was refreshing and Steve found it to be so real that he had to ask Eddie out. 

He didn’t fuck Eddie on the first date. 

Robin asked, jokingly, if he was sick. Steve laughed but he made sure to tell Robin that he really liked Eddie. There was something different about this. It wasn’t like something he wanted to last a few weeks. This was something Steve wanted for a while. Though he really wasn’t sure how to get it anymore. It had been a while. 

Steve didn’t really expect Eddie to be incredible or anything. Just normal. Like, normal sex. Just average. Every single person couldn’t fuck incredibly every single time. That was just basic common sense. 

Steve was very much wrong in that regard. 

Eddie was kind the first time, patient and slow and oh so sweet. Steve liked it but… well… it was just what he was thinking it’d be. Average. 

The second time, Eddie scruffed his hands in Steve's hair and shoved his head into the mattress, his voice gruff as he fucked Steve with calculated thrusts. He hadn’t been expecting it and Steve came the hardest he’s ever cum in his life. 

He asked Eddie about it, what had changed between the first time and the second time. 

Eddie shrugged slightly, naked in bed, his arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulder and Steve curled up against his side. “Dunno, it just seemed right. Should I have asked… was it bad?”

“Fuck no, Eddie. It was perfect."

[baileebear]

Men DNI

Sevika probably didn't have a stuffed animal during her childhood, either because of the poor living conditions (and/)or because she was forced to grow up faster.

That changed when you and her got into a relationship.

You gifted her a plush once, before when you were very busy for a few days (either coming home late or had to go away for a few days, resulting in her being home alone in said few days).

You told her she could hold onto it when you're gone.

She said along the lines of "I most likely won't be, love. I'm not a kid like I once was. But thank you."

Little did she know, once you were out doing your errands and she grew tired when night came along, she took the stuffed animal in her hands again and she noticed, that it had your scent. Her favorite scent, ever since you came into her life.

You came back late and find her sleeping on the bed, cuddling with that same plush. It was a sight to see, your strong butch woman with a cute plushie in her big arms.

She still denies that ever happens, despite you having proof (multiple pictures of that scenario) and you always finding her snuggling with it after your late going outs.

[baileebear]

Steve will drop lore on Eddie in this ‘everybody knows this, catch up’ kinda way when it painfully clear that everybody absolutely did not know this.

Like, Eddie asks Steve to move his chair so he can slide passed him like three time in the middle of a party at the Byers and is being ignored. Finally, he’s like, “Ground control to Major Asshole. Can you hear me?”

Steve’s only notices him because he kicks his chair in the process and is like, “Oh, sorry, man. Gotta talk on my other side. I lost my hearing on this side.”

Which, great.

Eddie feels like an asshole but he can actually put that to the side because the whole table is just like, “…what? Since when?”

“Um…” Steve says, like. Yeah. This is common knowledge. “Two years ago?”

One time in the middle of the summer, Eddie is ogling the freckles across Steve’s shoulders at a pool party when Steve yawns. Eddie jokingly asks if teaching Robin to drive tired him out that much and Steve’s like, “Nah, I had a seizure this morning. Those tire me out for days. It’s so annoying.”

“Woah,” because Eddie didn’t even know that was something on their radar. Neither did Nancy judging by the whole plate of hotdogs she just dropped on the ground.

Steve causally mentioned that he didn’t have his appendix anymore a couple weeks after they closed the gate officially. Eddie asked when he had the surgery expecting an answer to be when he was a kid, but Steve gives him a weird look like, “Uh, couple weeks ago.”

“A couple - what?” Jonathan sputtered from across the room. “A couple weeks ago, we killed Vecna.”

“Yeahh???” Steve rolled his eyes. “And then I had my appendix taken out. That’s what happens when you’re stabbed.”

“You were stabbed?!?”

“C’mon, man. You were there. Keep up.”

Eddie is shut up mid-sentence by lips against his and, wow. Whoa. Steve Harrington kissing him right now and Eddie should definitely kiss back but, “You like guys? I’ve had a chance this whole time?”

“I’m literally bisexual.”

[baileebear]

scoops ahoy!

wc: 2k

summary: Taking a walk around the mall on your break you end up meeting Steve at Scoops Ahoy. After waiting days for him to come visit you, you can't help but think he doesn't like you. How will Steve fix this?

a/n: fluff cutie stuff right here!!

After already working for a few hours you decide to venture out of the small store to see the rest of the mall. Despite your love for books it seemed people didn't come to the mall to go to a bookstore, which meant it’s been empty practically all day. It was a small space that looked rather homey and soft than the other neighboring stores.  That's exactly what made you want to work there, to get discounts on books and not have to deal with people but also getting paid? Sounded like a dream to you. However, after a while the reading wasn't doing enough and your break was nearing. Boredom started taking over which is why you are walking around the mall window shopping. Simply looking into other stores to see their items and their set up. Until you found an ice cream place that seemed to be pretty packed. 

It had a retro vibe to it as the walls lined with white and blue stripes. The glowing sign somehow worked on you and you found yourself in line thinking of what flavor you want. But knocking you out of your thoughts you hear a loud voice.-

“Ahoy, ladies! Didn’t see you there. Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.”  

Somehow when you walked in you missed the insane attire the workers strutted. A hat coupled with a blue shirt that had a tie around it. Then following the blue shorts that connected to long white socks. A perfect sailor fit if you will. You immediately bite your lip to stop a laugh from coming out at the outfit along with the long introduction. Feeling extremely grateful that you just have to sit in a cozy area in regular clothes. The girls ahead of you ordered and found a table leaving you as the next customer. But the guy, who you now know to be Steve Harrington, was no longer near the front of the register but talking to a girl through a window in the wall. It wasn't until she cleared her throat and brought her eyes to you that Steve realized someone was there. 

Steve comes back to the counter and after letting out a sigh goes to say his line “Oh sorry I didn’t see you there-” 

“You don't have to do the whole intro. I just heard you yell it out a minute ago..” You say with a warm smile trying not to laugh as you recall the whole scene that played in front of you. 

Steve's shoulders fall, a tension he didn't realize he was even holding as he lets out a gentle laugh. “Thanks, they make us say it so..” He says scratching at the nape of his neck.  “It’s even worse when I have the hat on.” He smiles at you trying to come back from his act a moment prior. 

“Oh wow, a hat huh?” You cover your mouth with your hand trying to stop the laughter that is already coming out. Steve rolls his eyes in a playful manner at the action. 

“Yeah yeah, as if this outfit wasn't enough.” He says as you take in the details of his outfit. 

“I have to say I don't know many people here who introduce themselves to customers with their first and last name..” Your cheeks are starting to hurt, and you realize how much you've been smiling from this interaction. 

“Hey don't knock it till you try it!” Steve is quick to defend but then notices something you said. “People here? Do you work in the mall?” You could say Steve is grasping at straws here but he hopes he can see you more and if you work here that could be his way in. 

“I do, I work on the 1st floor at the bookstore?” It comes out as a question, as if to ask if he even knows about it. 

Steve hasn't looked around the mall ever, this job tainting the whole thing not wanting to spend even more time in it. But a smile is plastered on his face, thanks to his detective skills he has a reason to talk more with you. 

But before Steve can ask you more questions a loud cough is heard behind you. Three customers are waiting and it would seem they have grown impatient. 

Turning your head back to Steve you whisper an ‘oh shit’ and order your ice cream. It’s a safe flavor you know you like but you hope to come back and try more. Well that and maybe talking to the sailor boy. 

-

Three days have passed since your time down at Scoops Ahoy. Steve hasn’t come by the bookstore and you can't help but think you were reading the situation wrong. It wasn't like you invited him up to the store but you thought the conversation was good enough perhaps on his break he'd come to you. Would going back just to talk to him come off as desperate? Because that's what you were feeling like. You talked to this man for no longer than a few minutes and you're already three days into thinking about him. Getting all upset you haven't seen him. You look for a new book wanting any other thoughts to plague your mind. 

Although Steve was having his own set of problems. 

“You weren't even there Rob, the way the conversation flowed and her laugh. Oh man, her laugh. I would die to hear it again.” Steve is now confiding in his best friend Robin on his new found crush. 

She can't help but roll her eyes at his statement. “You can hear it again. She’s right above us, why don't you just go up there?” Robin was surprised Steve had finally found someone who played into his jokes, she had so many tally marks on her white board saying different things.

“Yeah but she didn’t say to come up and hang out she just told me where she worked. I would be a psycho stalker to go up there.” He says letting a huff of air come out. 

“You were just saying how well the conversation was, I doubt she’d be upset by it. Also I hate to remind you but your luck with women hasn't been 10/10 so to turn down this would be crazy.”

Steve knows Robin is right. He has been having a bit of trouble with girls recently and it say its putting a damp in his mood would be an understatement. 

-

It has now been a whole week since you and Steve had last talked. Yet Steve couldn't stop thinking about you, or how his anxiety is stopping him from going up an escalator and into your store. He decided to finally man up and on his day off go see you. He doesn't even know if you're working but Steve thinks if you're there and he gets that lucky it must mean something. 

Steve walks into the shop and there's no one by the cashier. It’s dead silent besides someone in the back of the store. He goes back to see if by some chance it’s you but it’s not. It’s someone stocking the books up which switches Steve's mood instantly. You weren't here. Maybe this is Steve's sign that he's been looking for. Maybe it wasn't meant to be and- 

Ouch. 

Steve turns around to see who just walked into him, noticing a stack of books that hit him and fell due to the impact. As the books fall your face is revealed. Steve's frown from the lack of your presence along with the pain of the books falling on his feet quickly turns into a smile. You are here, you were just in the back.

While Steve's smile is bright, your frown and pinched brows share a different story. You didn’t look happy to see him. And in your opinion it was fair to be upset. You had been waiting for him for a whole week and here he is out of the blue right as you were getting over it all. 

Steve is quick to bend down to pick up the books as you go to the counter to set the rest down. Steve then does the same copying your movements. 

“Thank you.” You say in a monotone voice, you could be upset but manners should never falter. 

“Yeah, no problem. This store is really nice.” Steve is trying to start up small talk and for some reason it's not flowing the way it did when you were at Scoops. 

You decide to humor the situation by replying. “It was a major selling point for me working here. It's a great atmosphere.” There's a gentle tone that you have when talking about the space and Steve immediately picks up on it. 

“Well it's a million times better than dressing in a sailor outfit with kids begging for ice cream.” Steve laughs trying to lighten the conversation. 

“I think anything is better than that Steve.” You say looking at him and Steve thinks he might melt right then and there. That's the first time he’s heard you say his name and he wishes he could hear it a million times over. 

“I just realized I never got your name. We were interrupted by my job.” His smile is wide, ready to absorb any information you are willing to give him. 

You tell him your name and finally let out a smile. “Very true I think it's okay though I could have been there for hours yapping away if someone didn't stop me.” You say in a playful manner. But Steve wishes that was the reality and that he could have experienced that. 

“Well I would have stayed there for hours listening.” It comes out so gently in fear of him being too bold. The fear still lingering that you actually didn't want anything to do with him. 

You smile at his response as a wave of silence washes over the two of you. Both looking at each other unknowing what to say next. 

“Steve?” You ask, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why did it take you so long to come in here?” You ask the questions that's been gnawing at you. A question that's been making it hard to read or hard to do work. 

His eyes widen at your question, the feeling of being called out nerving. “I- I just.. I didn’t know if you wanted me to. I wanted to but I didn’t want to come in like a weirdo and creep you out because you never asked me to come visit you.” No explanation will help stop the guilt blooming in his chest. He wishes he didn't put you through this mental game.

The explanation is so simple and nothing like the things you've had spinning around in your head. It had nothing to do with what you said or what you looked like, it was just a simple thing. So simple that you felt bad for the rude attitude you've been sporting since he's come in. 

“Oh.. I guess I should have been more specific huh?” You look at him with soft eyes, he can tell you feel bad but you shouldn't. 

“Hey, no don't blame yourself I should have just came in anyways. It’s my fault, but at least now I'm here? That is if you still wanna talk..” Steves looking at the ground now, how you're going to decline his offer already stirring up in his brain. But instead you say something different.

“I'd love to!” You have the biggest smile on your face and Steve knows he looks shocked. Because he is. How could you want to talk to him after this whole mess?

“Yeah? Really?” 

“Well.. Maybe not right now I am working but, maybe saturday?” You end the question with a higher voice. Asking a question mixed with hope. 

“Can I pick you up on Saturday at 7?” Now he's the one with a high voice asking a question. Thankfully it works perfectly for you. 

“Yes, that's perfect.” You write down your number and your address to give to Steve. He takes it and stands still. He doesn't want to leave but you're right, you are working. 

“Okay I’ll see you then.” This is said firmly. Like a fact, like it's 100% going to happen and it’s set in stone. Because it is. And you couldn't be happier but Steve would argue he is.

[baileebear]

give me something more , hold me in your arms | 1.4K

𖦹 billy x male reader

𖦹 18+ , minors dni , the usual

𖦹 cw: smuuut , porn sprinkled w/ plot , lots n lots of swearing , internalized homophobia , mild dumbification , spit kink , dubcon (billy’s not entirely willing) , semi-public , impact play , sub!billy , undernegotiated kink

overview: billy’s finishing up his shift at the pool , busy washing off , getting dressed , when you come stalking into the locker room looking for a good time . he pushes at first , but he can only fight for so long .

before you read: i’ve never done an x reader before— imagines and blurbs sure— but i’m a virgin with fics . also purposeful lowercase , i’m trying to create a vibe here. enjoy , freaks ˎˊ˗

the hawkins community pool was total shit.

billy’s seen his fair share of pools, found places to loiter around whenever his old man said he wanted him gone for the night, but this— this place kicked rocks.

there was nothing to do, ‘cept for a lousy diving board and popsicles for two quarters on weekends. but it paid, and money is money is money, so. he still shows up, still wears the mandated red trunks that hug his thighs and squeeze at his ass, and blows his whistle whenever a fucker gets too bold in the water.

and, of course, the added perk of being ogled by all of hawkins. girls, younger and older— way older, if the moms in the skimpy one-pieces were anything to go off of— and a few boys who think their glances are fooling someone.

one boy especially, but— billy doesn’t think about the boys. can’t, not when neil’s a fucking mind reader, apparently, not after the shit that went down in california.

he knows better. keeps himself in the right.

hides his queer pornos like a good boy.

it’s whatever, anyways. there’s no one around to stare at him now. the sun’s rapidly setting, and the pool’s done for the night, leaving only billy left to close up.

it’s creepy out here in the woods, shit going bump in the night, but the closing shift pays a couple cents more, and billy’ll take what he can get. anything to get the fuck outta doge faster.

every penny is one step closer to the pacific, away from the hellhole that’s backwater indiana.

as billy climbed down from his ladder and walked down the dim corridor to the lockers there was a noise, unmistakable, that made his head jerk to the side, suddenly alert.

“hello?” he called, his eyes scanning the darkness around him. “if someone’s out there fucking with me, you better show yourself. ‘cause i’ll punch first, ask questions later.”

no one answered, and billy willed his face not to go red. served them right. people should fear him.

the thoughts of someone— or something— being in the pool with him faded as he stepped under the shower spray, hands fiddling with the knobs till it was scorching.

back home max liked to use what little hot water they had left, uncaring of anyone else, freckled bitch, but here billy could stand under the water for what felt like ever, and it would never go cold.

eventually, though, his fingers pruned and his legs started to ache from being in one stance for so long, and he shut it off, moving to his locker for his towel.

it was as he was toweling himself off that he heard a voice. your voice.

“‘punch first’, huh?” you said, voice teasing, walking up to stand behind billy. his breathing pitched, and from where you stood you could see his jaw clenching.

“it was you?” he said, looking over his shoulder. his eyes did a once-over on you, before frowning. “the fuck’re you doing here so late? pool’s closed. can’t you read?”

“can’t you say a ‘hello’? s’common courtesy, hargrove.

“get lost,” he bit back, already turning to face his locker, reaching for his deodorant stick. pointedly ignoring your presence.

hm. not the reaction you wanted.

“billy, turn back around,” you murmured, one of your hands coming to touch his shoulder, skin on skin. he shivered, but didn’t listen. “billy,” again, “don’t act like you can’t hear me.”

“what’s your problem?” billy shouted, reluctantly turning back to give you a harsh glare. “touching me like some- like—“

“go on,” you goaded, “say it.”

billy went a little red, stumbling back till he ran into the lockers, startled like he forgot it was behind him. the towel wrapped around his waist fell at that exact moment, and he didn’t even move to pick it up, just stared straight ahead.

“f-freak,” he stuttered out, though his voice betrayed him.

“‘freak’, he says, while he’s sporting a half-chub,” you joke, and it’s only then does billy realize, looking down and quickly bending down to grab the towel and cover himself back up.

“it’s a little too late for that, but i like your effort.”

the teasing, the casualness you portrayed— it fucked with billy’s mind, made him see red, but also made his mind a little fuzzy. he didn’t wanna ruminate on that, didn’t think he could, if he wanted to.

“listen. it’s late, dark, and we’re the only two here.” your hands moved to reach for the towel, and he didn’t protest it, though his eyes darted to the movement. “no one would know. just us, yeah?”

and for some reason, the half-baked idea didn’t seem so bad. maybe it was all some kinda purgatory dream. the chlorine had finally caught up with him, and he was dreaming all this shit. only—

you were real, and you were there, pulling the towel down. no amount of chlorine could do this.

he watched as you let the towel drop to the floor, and kept watching when your hand wrapped around his cock, still a little damp, and gave it a tug.

a noise punched out of billy, followed by a whine as your hand didn’t stop, but kept moving, slow, so, so slow, over him. he could do this, a handy was nothing— child’s play.

didn’t matter if your thumb rubbed across his slit and made his legs shake, or that he was starting to drip some. “don’t- don’t stop. s’good.” he blinked up at you, eyes wide and a little unfocused. “so good.”

“i know, i know,” you cooed. he was so easy, it was almost comical. a few jabs, a little teasing, and he let you take the reigns. almost like he was looking for a reason to be used. “why don’t you spit on it, for me? get it nice and wet.”

billy’s stomach clenched at the thought. he took a second, tongue moving, before he aimed down at his dick and spit, hips bucking some when you began spreading it around his length.

“look at that, all messy. i can’t believe you waste this pretty dick with the sluts of hawkins. bet they don’t know the first thing about making you feel good.” your brows furrowed as you spoke, jealously curling inside of you. billy wasn’t yours— and you knew that— yet the thought of him with a girl that only sat on his cock for like, two point five seconds upset you.

billy, beneath the bravado, was so precious. something to handle with care, golden and tan wrapped up in a big ‘fragile’ sticker.

“gonna cum,” he whined, hips rabbiting up to thrust in your hand, “m’gonna cum, please, please.” billy’s voice sped up, and just as he was about to shoot off you took your hand away.

he groaned in disbelief, hips still moving, yet his orgasm ripped away. “the fuck was that for?” he growled, and you didn’t like that tone.

it was quick, a slap to his face that had him moaning and his cock spurting out another glob of pre. “watch your mouth,” you whispered. “i don’t have to give you shit if i don’t want to.”

“m’sorry,” billy mumbled, swiping at his eyes with the backside of his hand. he was shaking a little, poor thing. “just please keep going. just need a little more, c’mon.”

something in you wanted to draw it out, make him beg some more— he was such a pretty crier— but you relented, figuring if he was willing enough now then there’d be time later, and you two could go longer.

billy locked up some when you began jerking him off again, lip between his teeth, mumbling incoherently— mostly a steady stream of please and more, more— until he was back to the brink of climax.

“i could’ve been anyone, billy, anyone,” you said, hand speeding up, “and you’re just here, all alone at the pool, naked and barely covering yourself up, so indecent. bet you would’ve pretended to drop your towel for them, too.”

billy didn’t— he hadn’t— dropping the towel was an accident. he wasn’t paying attention, that’s all. you took advantage, and he let you, because, well.

he didn’t want to think why he let you.

instead he focused on the good, on the pleasure coursing through him as he bucked once, twice, before cumming all over your hand. he sagged against the lockers, tonguing at his bottom lip.

fuck. he was so, so fucked.

when he looked up at you, though, blue eyes blown to shit, a little watery from it all, it felt like things were gonna be alright.

[baileebear]

coming attractions.

Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2k words

tags: oral (fem receiving), swearing, pet names (“babe” and “baby”), degradation (Billy calls reader a "slut"), nipple play, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, basically horny Billy deserves his own warning, Billy has a big dick, modern!au, slight spoilers for the movie Game Night (sorry)

summary: when you invite Billy over to watch a movie, he's not expecting you to, you know, actually watch the movie. But once the credits roll, you're gonna be in for it...

18+ only—minors do not interact!

You were absolutely buzzing with energy right now, and it's all because of him: Billy Hargrove.

You'd met Billy through Steve Harrington, a mutual friend, and were instantly smitten with this charming, foul-mouthed man. The two of you had gone on a few dates, and you finally felt comfortable enough to have him over at your apartment. You texted him, trying to be cool and casual as you asked him if he wanted to come over and watch a movie, and you were over the moon when he'd accepted. The two of you set a date: Friday night, 8 p.m.

Tonight was the night, and you were scurrying around the place, ensuring that everything was perfect. An assorted array of delightful movie theater snacks? Check. Ice-cold sodas chilling in the cooler? Double check. Appropriate movie choice (Game Night, a movie that, as it turns out, you and Billy both adored)? Checkity-check-check. Now all you had to do was anxiously wait for the guest of honor to arrive.

When you got an "im here" text from Billy, your stomach did Olympic-level backflips. You silently told yourself to be calm and cool, but who were you kidding? This was Billy Hargrove, a man who was so hot that it almost hurt to look at him sometimes. There was no chill, only the illusion of nonchalance.

You opened the door and there he was, looking like an absolute dream in only a white T-shirt and jeans. He grinned lazily, holding a bottle of Prosecco in one hand. "Hey there, princess," he purred.

You eyed the bottle and snorted. "Billy, I told you, you didn't need to bring anything over."

"And I didn't listen," Billy simply replied. You shook your head, smiling, and invited him in. You kicked the door closed behind Billy, locking up while he put the wine on your kitchen counter.

"If you want snacks or drinks, I got 'em all stocked up," you informed Billy. "We can start the movie whenever."

You sat down on the couch and Billy flopped down next to you. He examined the assortment of snacks you'd laid out on the coffee table, lighting up once he noticed the family-size bag of Nerds Gummy Clusters.

"I remember you saying how obsessed with them you are," you explained, looking at Billy fondly.

“Have I ever told you how fuckin’ amazing you are?” Billy asked, his voice warm with affection.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind hearing it again,” you teased, giving Billy a peck on the cheek.

-

Things were going pretty swell, if you did say so yourself. You and Billy were cuddled up, enjoying your snacks and cackling at the movie’s jokes as if you were hearing them for the first time.

And then Billy started kissing your neck.

“Billy, no,” you moaned, trying your best to keep your composure. “I wanna watch the movie.”

“Baby, come on,” Billy whined, mouthing at your collarbone. “I thought this was gonna be, like, a ‘Netflix and chill’ kinda thing.”

“But Annie just shot Max in the arm!” you protested, not moving from the screen. “It’s really starting to get good now.”

Billy pouted. “But babe, I’m horny.”

You giggled. “Billy, I didn’t put effort into this magical movie-watching experience for us to just go fuck instead.”

“Fine, we can watch the damn movie,” Billy acquiesced, letting out a dramatic sigh. You grinned smugly, knowing that Billy was such a softy for you that he would fold like a house of cards.

“But baby? Just wait until it’s over,” he whispered lowly in your ear, sending a shiver throughout your body.

-

The rest of the movie night went smoothly. Billy kept his hands to himself, and both of you could just relax and enjoy the comedic hijinks. You could get used to this—weekly movie dates with Billy wrapped up in his warm embrace and eating copious amounts of junk food.

"That was so fun," you said, stretching your legs once the credits started to roll. "We should definitely do this again!"

"Definitely," Billy agreed, looking at you hungrily. You blinked, confused, until you remembered: Billy must be pent-up after you rebuffed his advances earlier. Oh, you were in for it now.

You and Billy had definitely done stuff but hadn't made it to home base, so to speak. You sat back down and squeezed your thighs together, looking at Billy with wide-eyed anticipation.

A lazy grin stretched across Billy's face. "C'mere, baby," he said, patting his lap.

You obliged, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. He cradled your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. God, you didn't think you'd ever get tired of feeling Billy's lips on yours. They were so soft, and they kissed like an absolute champion.

Soon, Billy's hands started roaming, feeling up your tits through your t-shirt and cupping your ass. You quickly shed your shirt and bra, allowing him to grope the flesh of your breasts.

"These fuckin tits," he muttered, before wrapping his lips around your left nipple and sucking. You moaned wantonly, arching your back for him. He soon switched to the other nipple, holding your right breast with one and snaking the other one into your sweats, pumping his fingers into your needy cunt, already sopping wet for him.

Billy released his lips from your boobs, chuckling darkly. "Well well, would you look at that? Someone's feeling a bit needy, hm?"

He continued fingering your pussy and you moaned at the sensation, your walls clamping down around his digits.

"Shit, baby—you're so tight for me. Can't wait to feel this around my cock," Billy said, grunting with pleasure.

You felt something stirring in your stomach, approaching your high as Billy stroked your clit again and again. "Billy, I—I'm—I'm close."

"Atta girl," Billy encouraged you. "Soak my fingers, baby."

You whimpered, relishing the pressure of his thick fingers inside of you. He curled two fingers, pumping them in and out of you, and that’s when the dam broke. You came with a cry, clenching down hard on his fingers and writhing in his lap.

Billy pulled his hand out of your pants, licking off your glistening slick while you came back down to earth, dealing with the aftershocks. He shut his eyes and moaned, acting like he’d just consumed the most delicious five-star meal.

“Pants off. Now,” Billy commanded, kissing the shell of your ear.

You’d never gotten undressed so quickly in your life. You flung your sweats and underwear to some corner of the apartment—you’d worry about finding them later.

"You wanna take this to the bedroom?" you asked Billy. "I'd rather not get cum on this couch, no offense."

"Lead the way, princess," Billy drawled.

You took him by the hand, leading him to your room. Once you were both inside, Billy's mouth was on yours again, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Billy walked towards your bed, dropping you on top of it.

"Spread those legs for me, gorgeous," Billy growled. As soon as you opened up for him, Billy's mouth was on your cunt, lapping at it like a man who was dying of thirst. He alternated between normal licks and flattening his tongue as he pumped it in and out of your opening. You gasped at the feeling of Billy's tongue on your clit, curling your toes. It felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire in the best way.

"Billy, I'm gonna cum," you moaned, your legs moving to clamp down on either side of Billy's head. You saw stars as you orgasmed again, coating Billy's face with your juices.

Billy licked his lips, grinning devilishly. "Goddamn, baby. Pussy always tastes so good f'me."

You felt like floating. To say that Billy was good at eating pussy seemed like an understatement. No other man had been able to eat you out like that—Billy ought to teach a TED Talk on the subject.

Billy fished around in his pocket, pulling out a shiny metallic wrapper. "It's okay, I'm on the pill," you assured him.

Billy grinned, putting the condom back in his pocket. "And I'm clean; I just got tested. Haven't fucked anybody else since I met you, baby."

That stirred something in your belly. You and Billy hadn't made things officially official yet, but it felt good to know that you were the only woman on his mind.

"Take your clothes off, please," you begged Billy, jutting out your lower lip.

Billy chuckled deeply before quickly ridding himself of his clothes. You let out a breath, gawking at Billy in all of his naked glory. Of course, he was buff—his gym escapades were well documented on his Instagram stories—but what you weren't expecting was his dick, massive and fully erect, leaking with precum. Your mind was racing, wondering how that was even going to fit.

"Like what you see?" Billy asked smugly. You bit your lip, suddenly finding it difficult to look at him.

"Billy—I'm not gonna lie, I don't know how it's gonna fit," you admitted, anxiety pooling in your gut.

Billy softened his gaze, though he was still smirking slightly. "Gonna make it fit, baby. Don't worry 'bout it."

Billy got on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses down your body, starting with your neck. He caressed your inner thighs, leaving little pecks. Then Billy rubbed your hip to soothe you and ease your nerves.

"Gonna put just the tip in at first, all right?" Billy informed.

He slowly eased his tip inside, eliciting a whine from your lips. Billy continued to slowly push inside of you, stretching out your walls, until his cock was fully ensconced in your warm cunt.

Billy called out your name, moaning with pleasure. "Fuck, baby. You're so wet and warm inside—might never pull out." You keened, relishing how full he felt inside you but wanting more. Your nerves seemed to vanish as lust started to cloud your brain.

Billy hummed, slowly pulling out before pushing back in. You let out a cry as Billy continued to thrust into you, hitting your G-spot just right.

"Billy—ah!—feels so good," you sobbed, filled to the brim with pleasure. "I'm so close."

"Yeah? You're taking me so well, baby, like a good little slut. Want you to cum all over my cock," Billy murmured, snapping his hips as he sped up his movements. You whimpered, clenching down on Billy's cock as you fell apart for him.

"Gonna cum," Billy warned, gripping your hips. "Got a huge load for you, baby."

Billy released inside you with a grunt, filling you up with his warm, thick cum. You sighed, feeling fucked out and content.

Billy didn't pull out right away, opting to keep his dick nestled in your warm pussy. You didn't let guys cockwarm you, but you would make an exception for Billy, especially after an evening of mind-blowing sex.

"You're mine," Billy murmured, pulling you close to him and kissing your neck.

"Is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Hargrove? What a gentleman," you teased, gazing fondly at Billy.

Billy snorted, rolling his eyes. "Just say yes, will ya?"

You decided to mess with him a little. "What makes you think I want to say yes? Did you think the sex was that good?"

Billy flashed you a cocky Cheshire Cat grin. "Obviously. And you're fuckin' hot. But it's more than that. I hate getting all sappy and shit but—I really like you, okay? You're funny and sweet and I like having you around."

You could've melted right then and there. "Of course, I'll be your girlfriend, you big goof," you said, nuzzling into the side of his neck. Billy hummed contentedly, rubbing your back.

"Hey Billy?" you asked, trying your best to fight the sleepiness that was taking over you.

"Yeah?" Billy muttered, softly kissing your shoulder.

"I gotta pee,” you shyly admitted. “And take a shower.”

Billy let out another dramatic groan but pulled out of you anyway and let you get out of bed, leering at you as cum dripped down your thighs

“Want some company?” Billy flirted. “For the shower, not the toilet. Obviously.”

You giggled, playfully shoving Billy’s shoulder before you disappeared into the bathroom. “You’re so ridiculous.”

“Only for you, baby,” Billy joked. “Only for you.”

[baileebear]

⸻ where is she? ⸻

· pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: after you're absent from school for nearly an entire week, billy goes to your only friend, nancy, demanding answers as to your whereabouts. the floor immediately falls out from under his feet when she informs him that you've skipped town...and that she has no idea where to. · tw: mentions of abuse · tags: angst, pining · word count: 2.6k · ꒰a/n꒱: PLEASE READ! This is an AU of my previous Billy fic, which I wrote last summer, titled Thoroughfare. I don't feel it's required reading (at this time), but to make better sense of certain things which are mentioned/recollected in this fic (as well as this chapter), I suggest reading the first chapter of that series, as well as the first 3 outtakes for it. All 4 items, which I just previously mentioned, are canon for this series as well, which picks up after chapter 1 of that fic concludes.

He’s losing his fucking mind. 

He’s been on a bit of tear the last week. He’s ripped Max a new one at every turn, smoked through countless cartons of cigarettes, and went so far as to get hammered one night, despite having school the next morning, just to get his racing thoughts to calm the hell down.

He’d promptly regretted his imbibing damn-near a whole six pack of Budweiser when the sun rose outside his bedroom window—casting his tanned, naked skin in a warm glow—and a pounding sensation settled firmly in his head along with it, however. 

It had served to sooth his frayed nerves for awhile, if nothing else, though, and got him off to sleep—his drunken stupor.

His dad would’ve lit his ass up had he been aware, but Billy knows how to be inconspicuous. Sometimes, at least. Others…he lets his anger get the better of him, which typically ends with him and his old man at each other’s throats once his extraordinarily short fuse has run its course, with Susan attempting to play peacekeeper between them.

The reason for Billy’s recent turn from bad-to-worse behavior, though? You. You, and your brief little absence from the classroom. You, who’s the one bright spot in his dreary fuckin’ days in this shithole town. The one thing he has to look forward to every weekday.

Whether it’s tugging on your ponytail in class, bugging you for pencils that he doesn't really require, being up your ass in hectic halls, stealing a crisp apple or golden-brown fry from your tray in the cafeteria with a charming wink, cat-calling you from across the parking lot… Anything he can do to get on your last nerve, or to gain your attention, he does. Because it makes him happy.

You do.

And you’re the only one he does it to, because you’re the only set of tits in the school that’s…different. The rest of ‘em either aren’t his type, or, if they are, they spend their spare time practically throwing themselves at him.

They don’t realize that there’s some fun to be had in a chase. Not that he really thinks at this point that that’s the play you’re going for. 

It gets under his skin like nothing else: the dawning realization that it’s not a game to you at all. You’re just that disinterested.

He doesn’t fuckin’ comprehend why, is the thing. He has everything a young woman could want in a man, right? Good looks, a nice, muscular body, a cool car, a certain appealing swagger about him. A devil-may-care bad-boy attitude, callused hands that can fix damn-near anything, including your own vehicle, if you were to ever get one.

Personally, he thinks you’d look pretty cute cruisin' around town in a little Volkswagen Bug. Or just simply naked in the backseat of his Camaro while you ride his cock to your climax. And he’s great in the sack. Just the thought of his head shoved between your thighs while you writhe in his bed, whimpering his name, telling him that you’re his, his, his…

He’s gotten off to that fantasy one too many times. But it never gets old, strangely enough.

Sometimes, he imagines other scenarios, too. Such as… God, it makes him feel like a real fuckin' pussy for even wanting it, but…you holding him securely in your arms in bed at night. Telling him that you won’t leave, too. That you won’t…hurt him. That it’s the two of you against the whole damn world. That he’s finally safe.

Above all? That you love him, and only him.

It’s not that he’s in-love with you. He isn't. He can’t be. He wouldn’t even know what an annoying, pointless thing like that even entails, nor does he have even a modicum of desire to find out. It’s just a fantasy. Something he thinks about when he has nothing else to do with himself. After all, you don’t even know each other. Not really, at least. 

He only has your birthday memorized from one of the posters which hangs at the front of English class. Speaking of, it’s your favorite subject. And you sometimes tend to click pens when you’re bored—like it’s an idle habit that you don’t even think about. And inside your locker, you have a small poster of Matt Dillon—he wants to set fire to the fucking thing and gift you a cheesecake Polaroid of himself for you to have instead (even if that stupid goddamn thing had been the deciding factor in what he wore to that one party where the two of you danced together before Pretty Boy Harrington butted-in like always...but having you in his arms, even briefly, had been worth all the trouble he went through to get his costume just right for your sake; hoping for your approval).

You damn-near always wear your hair in a ponytail, too. Every day, you grab two apples at lunch—granny smith ones, to be precise, but you only eat one, while the other gets tucked away in your bag to take home. He knows the bus you take. And he knows that Nancy was your only friend…

The list goes on.

Okay, maybe he knows more than he’d ever let on.

Whatever.

So, he’s observant. Big fuckin’ whoop.

All in all, though, he’s had enough of this disappearing act you’ve pulled. He knows you’re probably just sick, but it’s like he has this feeling… Like something is wrong.

Leave it to him to always assume the worst. 

If he wasn’t in school right now, he’d be puffing on a Marlboro to calm himself down. But he is. And so is Nancy Wheeler.

He heads in the direction of her locker, then, shoving past obnoxious freshman on his way there before slamming the thing shut, causing her to jump in fright before staring up at him with wide eyes, framed by mascara-coated lashes. 

“Where is she?” Billy demands with a hardened gaze and set jaw.

“Where’s wh—”

He promptly interrupts. “Cut the shit. You know who I mean. She’s been absent since Monday. Is she sick, or what?”

Her eyes flit between his and a disconcerting feeling of leaden dread settles deep in his gut—a sense of confirmation that he wasn’t being paranoid after all. 

“You haven’t heard,” is her gentle reply, as if she’s trying to soften the blow to come. 

His heart begins to pound, and an acidic feeling of nausea rises up in the narrowing confines of his throat. “What?” he spits, ready to choke the answers from her, or otherwise reach inside her mouth and pull them out by force.

“She ran away from home earlier this week.”

He blanches, and all previous tautness of tensed muscles, and a clenched jaw and fists flee his body in an instant, leaving him instead feeling weak, lightheaded, and utterly empty. “W-what?”

She clutches her light-pink binder close to her chest to soothe the fear for you, which fills her pattering heart. “I called her house a couple days ago, just to check on her. Her dad picked up. When I asked to speak to her, he said—” she swallows, calms herself, so as to prevent fresh tears from spilling forth, then continues. “He said, and I quote, ‘She packed her shit in the middle of the night and took off, just like her worthless mother, so don’t go callin’ here again.’, and then he hung up. I don’t think he has any idea where she went to. I think she just…chose to vanish.”

He’s stopped breathing. 

This can’t be happening.

Not again.

It can’t be.

Not again.

He turns abruptly away from her, ignoring the way she concernedly calls after him—her voice wholly lost beneath the commotion of the bustling hall which envelops them—and forces his way through a suffocating crowd of adolescent bodies before bursting through the swinging door to the boy’s restroom.

He can barely see through all the gathering tears in his eyes as he slams open, then closed, one of the stall doors, and falls to his knees before expelling the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl before him. 

He doesn’t want to fucking do this here. Someone will see—will hear. But there’s no stopping it now as he falls back against the metal wall to his right and begins to violently sob, having no choice but to give himself over to it.

The last handful of days the two of you were near each other—the way he spoke to and treated you—he'll never forgive himself.

Those pitiful memories flit through his rattled mind, but he's desperate to punish himself, so he dives in, and drowns in it.

Such as when you'd been seated next to him in his Camaro, staring out the passenger-side window with despondence after he finally managed to work up the courage to ask you on a date so the two of you could at last really be alone together...and you'd clocked his intentions instantly.

Maybe if you'd noticed his trembling hands, you would've seen him in a different light.

He just...wanted you so badly. More deeply than he's desired anything since his mom's sudden departure. Since the phone stopped ringing.

You had been hoping for something else, however—a gesture of kindness and warmth. He could see it in your soulful eyes. And instead...

Stuck-up bitch, he'd called you, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk all alone, staring after him.

Steve had stepped in soon thereafter and treated you with the respect and kindness you were deserving of when he, too, extended an invitation for you and he to go on a date—which had made Billy's blood boil—only for Billy to try desperately to make him renege on his offer by insulting you, no less.

He'd just...been determined for you not to go with him. The thought of losing you—as if he ever fuckin' had you to begin with—had made him fill with dread, if not a sense of looming heartbreak as well.

That is how you'll always remember him now: with cruelty spilling from his lips, and violent hands, which yanked handfuls of strands of your hair out near-daily.

It wasn't some flirtatious little gesture.

He was harming you.

He fucking despises himself.

He can never fix it; what he's done. He fucking deserves to feel like this.

Billy starts to choke on himself as he gasps for air then, so he hangs his head between his knees, willing away the black dots which gather in his vision. He can’t pass out like this. Not in this place. 

But he can’t calm down. He has no idea how. Everything is gone. His entire world just collapsed into a pile of dust right at his feet. You’re gone. Fled town.

He’ll never see you again.

You’re lost to him.

Forever.

He smacks himself in the face to try and get a grip, but it only makes him cry all the harder. It’s what his dad would do if he were here: beat him until he stops. 

How could you do this? He can’t live with this. He can’t remain where you no longer are. You’ve gone somewhere he can’t follow. He has no idea which direction he’d even need to turn to to try.

He should’ve been different.

Why hadn’t he been different to you?

He has no idea what you were going through at home, but for your dad to have spoken about you like that… He knows. Of course he does. His was the same goddamn way when his own mother finally took off after having had enough. And just like back then, he’s been left behind once again.

What possible reason could you’ve had to have thought of him, though? All he did was torment you in this place. The one fucking place that should’ve served as an escape from your home life, and he stole that away from you, too. 

He should’ve told you. Should’ve told you…that he loves you. Or, if nothing else, the idea of you.

The walls feel like they’re closing in on him now. He should’ve gone into the handicapped stall to have more room. His chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself, like it’s grown impossibly tight, and he can no longer draw in a single, decent lungful of air. 

It’s never going to get better. It never does. It only gets worse. This is the solidifying proof of that fact.

His cheeks are wet with tears, and his limbs slick with sweat, with a vile taste coating his tongue. He wants you to come back. Please, just, come back to him. For him. He’ll leave with you.

You’re all on your own. What if something fucking horrible happens to you? What if you’re kidnapped, raped, murdered, trafficked? 

He doubles over and coughs violently, desperate to breathe, as his slick palms slip against a cracked blue tile floor with stained caulking. 

Was he part of your decision? Oh dear God, he’s become just like him. Fuck. No. He can’t—

He drove away a sweet young woman who was only ever kind—who desperately needed it in return. Who did nothing to deserve the treatment he gave her. The only good thing he had left.

Billy pushes open the stall door with his shoulder, stumbles on his feet, then slams into a sink across the room with his side. He falls to the floor again and his ribs smart from the impact. He needs to get out of here. He has to do something. Anything.

He tightly grasps the charm which hangs from the silver chain around his neck, needing to ground himself. But, so, too, is that dainty little item a memory of you as well.

You'd gifted it to him for his birthday; had been the only one to even remember the piss-poor day as a cause for celebration.

He's not sure when he fell, exactly, but that occasion certainly brought him ever-closer to the reality that that's what was happening, in terms of his developing feelings for you.

The first time he ever truly reached out—made an earnest attempt at showing you tenderness—was a few weeks later when you came to school...not seeming like yourself.

You had been hurt; abused. He knew you had—knows what it looks like. He should've drawn the truth from you, and not stopped until you admitted to him what was being done to you at home. Instead...he merely shared his lunch with you. Pathetic.

But rest assured he always gave fucking things up his best effort when a couple days afterward he was back to being a self-righteous dick again. God-forbid you think him capable of empathy for more than a mere moment.

If you had...

If you had, maybe you'd be here with him now. Or he with you, in search of a new life elsewhere... Together.

His mind is clouded over, bestowing upon him the drowsy sensation of sleepwalking in real-time. Since his breakdown in the restroom at school, he's merely been going through the motions.

He'd had two classes left once he exited that confining space, which shall forever house one of his worst moments, but he didn't complete so much as one question on any assignment he was given in either class. He merely sat, and stared through bleary eyes at the papers which were placed before him, waiting to be completed and submitted to the teacher at the end of class.

But he hadn't given a shit about fractions and calculating differentials. Which was saying a lot, since math is his best subject. All he could focus on was the thought of you, as well as battling against his stomach, lest he lose what little control he had over his body all over again.

So, instead of granting his attention to meaningless schoolwork, he began to plan. To plot, even.

Once he got home, he retrieved the luggage he used during his trip from California to Hawkins while making a monumental decision: he's leaving, too.

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @highsummon

[baileebear]

⸻ epilogue. ⸻

· pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you & billy meet for the first time. · word count: 501 · ꒰a/n꒱: writing this has been a journey all on its own. i honestly don't even know where it came from. when i started it, it'd been a minute since i'd even watched stranger things, but it just hit me out of nowhere & once the words started to flow, there was no stopping them. and for the first time ever, i completed a multi-chapter fic. something i have struggled for numerous years to do. i want to thank everyone who has interacted with this story or me in any way. it has meant more than you can imagine.

“Who’s that?” Nancy asks, looking behind you.

You glance up, your brows furrowing. “Hm?”

She glances at you, then back behind you once more, nodding her head in that same direction.

You turn your head and look over your shoulder, and catch sight of a blue Chevy Camaro pulling into the school parking lot, and then a tall young man with dirty-blond curls and a mullet, dressed all in jeans, looks at you as he steps out the driver’s side, stopping for a moment, just staring.

You give him a small, welcoming smile, and he smirks, then closes the door to his car before turning away.

You turn back to Nancy, shrugging. “He must be new.”

She continues to study his vehicle. “His plate says California.”

You listen as the bell rings, beckoning you all inside. 

“Long way from home,” you remark.

When you enter English class, you see that the new guy is now seated directly behind you. You walk over, ready to welcome him to the school—to Hawkins in general—but he speaks before you can bother opening your mouth.

He leans forward and flashes you a brilliant smile—he even winks…and you now know he’s the flirtatious type. Great. While all you want is to be left alone.

He extends his hand toward you. “Billy Hargrove.”

You set your things down on your desk and slide your hand into his, ignoring the way your heart skips a beat when you do so. 

“Y/N. Nice to meet you. Welcome to Hawkins,” you say with another smile.

He pulls your hand toward him—to his lips—and he presses a firm kiss to the back of it while looking up at you from under his lashes. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.”

You tuck your hand back in your pocket then to hide it now shaking from nerves.

You go to begin organizing your things for class and he speaks again. “So, doll, you already spoken for?”

You drop your pencil, blinking up at him. “W-what?”

He leans back, folding his hands behind his head. “Are you?”

“You move awful quickly, don’t you?”

He shrugs. “I’m a pretty confident guy. Besides, you know what they say: no time to waste. And I plan on livin’ life to the fullest. So?”

You lean down and pick up your pencil, then stand again. “It…needs sharpened.”

You turn your back to him and head up front to the pencil sharpener, and he smirks. 

He can already tell that you like him. That he’s made you nervous. 

He likes how you didn’t just give an answer right away—hard to get. He can work with that—play that game. Even if he knows he’ll inevitably win.

You glance back to him and he blows you a kiss and you frown, looking away again.

He chuckles, looking at the boy seated beside him with perfectly tousled brown hair, who looks back at him with a raised brow of interest.

Billy nods toward you, smiling. “I’m gonna marry that girl one day.”

[baileebear]

⸻ we're home. ⸻

· pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you've finally reached california & found your happily ever after. · word count: 1,111

You lean over Billy’s chest with crossed arms, studying. 

You look at him. “Does it hurt?”

He glances up to you, shrugging his right shoulder slightly. “Not really.”

You roll your eyes. Tough guy.

He looks up to you again. “Don’t tell me you’re ready to chicken out.”

You shift on your feet. “No.”

He smirks. “Good, ‘cus you promised me forever.”

The tattoo artist glances between the two of you with a raised brow, then continues. 

“The ink will be, if nothing else,” the man throws in.

Billy closes his eyes. “I know what I’ve got.” 

He smiles to himself, rubbing a thumb along his wedding band.

You glance down to your wrist, the name Billy written in small, delicate cursive across the width of it. You then glance across the car, to his bare chest—admiring your name that’s now inked across his left pectoral. 

You smile to yourself at the sight.

It’d taken the better part of a day, but you’ve finally made it. You’re in California, sitting in a parking lot in Billy’s car, looking out the windshield at the ocean in the distance—something you’ve never seen before. Never thought you’d set eyes on. You listen to the waves crash against the shore.

You turn in your seat and look at your husband. Husband. He’s your husband now. And you, his wife. It still feels so strange to even think the words. But every time you do, you fill with warmth and happiness. And maybe your panties a bit of wetness…

He rolls his head to the side and he reaches up, gently running his knuckles along the soft skin of your cheek. “We’re here, baby. We’re home.”

You nod, then lean over and press your lips to his. When you pull away, there’s a gentle smile on his face.

“Do you remember that dream I told you I had? The one before…that day in Texas?”

You think back. That had been the morning he’d apparently realized that he was in love with you. Something about making love in his car, wasn’t it?

You nod, smiling.

He caresses your cheek. “Want to help me make one more dream come true?”

“Daddy!” 

You clutch your pregnant stomach as your son’s hand slips out of yours and he runs in the direction of his father.

Billy drops his surfboard onto the sand and he smiles before picking up the four-year-old spitting image of him and he tosses him in the air, and your heart jumps nervously at the sight before he then settles him against his hip.

When he sees you, he smiles and whistles. “Man, that is one hot mama.”

You roll your eyes and come to stand in front of him as he lowers Warrant back to the sand. “Yeah, I feel hot. What is it that does it for you, huh? The big belly, swollen ankles, or the—”

He smirks. “Whole package, really, baby.”

He reaches out, cups the back of your head, then crushes his lips to yours, which taste pleasantly of salt water.

“Ew, what the hell dad?”

You pull away, and look down at Warrant who’s staring up at the pair of you from under a mop of blonde curls. 

You look at Billy then. “Do you see what you’ve taught him?”

He smirks, shrugging. “Going to punish me for it?”

You shake your head. “I should be spanking someone.”

He raises a brow. “Mm, pick me.”

He pulls you in again and kisses you, then moves his lips close to your ear. “You’re lucky I’ve already got you knocked up. Because if I didn’t?” 

He pulls back, staring down at you. “You’d be on your back right now getting bred.”

You flush, but tell yourself it’s only from the heat.

Warrant speaks up again. “So gross. Stop kissing.”

You both smile at each other.

Billy speaks, tenderly tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Trust me, kid, you could do a lot worse when it comes to parents.”

A few years after your daughter is born, Billy stops competing in surfing competitions, telling you it’s time. You try to encourage him otherwise, but he tells you that he has more important things to think about now.

He still does it for recreation. Even taught you shortly after arriving in California, which had involved a lot of cursing and you nearly drowning once or twice, but it had been fun while it lasted, until you’d told him you preferred watching. Unable to help himself, he’d of course made a filthy joke out of that comment.

Warrant loves it, however. Living on the beach gives them ample opportunity every day to get out in the water. And through that—teaching his son, watching him thrive on the waves—is how he realizes that he wants to do it full time: teaching and training. Particularly kids. 

You know why: he sees himself in all of them. Young and full of passion for something so much larger than themselves. They just need someone else to show them the way.

He does mechanic work on the side for a bit of extra cash, but also because he still loves getting his hands dirty and messing around in a garage.

Speaking of which, he keeps the Camaro and takes it out for a spin every now and again. Usually, it’s just the two of you in the front seats. Sometimes, you sneak away just to screw in the backseat of it. 

It’s how your daughter is conceived. Not that you hadn’t been trying—a few years after Warrant was born, Billy had suggested that the two of you stop using protection. That ‘whatever happened, happened’. And, during that time, you’d barely been able to keep him off of you. But you’d repaid the favor when you got pregnant again. Your hormones had taken the driver’s seat for months. Billy didn’t complain once.

As for you? You’re a full-time housewife. You and Billy discussed it very early-on after coming to Cali. You had worked some to help with saving up enough to buy a house, but once you became pregnant, Billy made it clear that he would never stop you from continuing to work if that’s what you wanted, but he ‘never wanted you to feel like you had to’. That he intended to keep that promise to take care of you. Both of you. All of you.

So, you settle into a daily, yet hectic life. But every time you feel overwhelmed—like maybe at times you have a bit more than you can handle—all you have to do is look at them, your family, and know: you have just exactly enough.