#Yandere billy Hargrove

[famwhy]

Right Way Up (04)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: omg guys, I came across an account that said their current favourite fic was this one in their bio. I'm acc so happy, tysm

prev part. masterlist.

04. bring unto me peculiarity

trait: e.m.

YOU blinked, jaw hung open and muscles tense as her grip around you tightened—constricting your movements and clogging your airways. Though, breathing was the least of your concerns when it came to tight hugs at the moment, not when you had your dumb arm to worry about.

As if on cue, a sharp rupture of pain spiked your side, and you winced, grunting a little before sucking a breath in through your teeth and asking—albeit with scrunched up features—"...sorry, do I know you?"

"Wha—?" She pulled away at that, and the look she gave you—oh, the look she gave you—it was full of heartbreak, emotional turmoil spanning as far as the eye could see. "It's me, baby, it's mommy."

"Mom?"

You thought you didn't have a mother. 

"Yes, baby, it's me. It's mom." She smiled, pupils shaking in—and you could be wrong about this, but—what seemed like... desperation?

What's up with that?

And, if this lady really was your mother, where the hell had she been all these days?

"Y/N? The hell is taking so—?"

A strange sense of déjà vu drenched your form as your eyes followed the new voice, landing on the slightly-parted lips and wide, almost-disbelieving eyes of your second oldest brother—hands still covered by the huge, red gloves he often adorned.

Then, his features scrunched up—though, it wasn't like yours had just done—no—his were harder, more purposeful; his were clouded in a storm consisting purely of loathing so unadulterated, you had half a mind to think he was staring—no, glaring—into the form of his worst enemy.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" And as he spoke, venom spat out of his mouth, launching itself straight onto the woman still loosely holding you and causing her face to scrunch up in a pained wince. "Shouldn't you be on one of your fucking five-year-long business trips?"

"Oh honey—"

His glare grew sharper. "Don't call me that."

"I..." she trailed off and you blinked, helpless to the scene that was playing out right before your very eyes.

"I don't know what the fuck got into you but you can't just waltz in here like..." his face scrunched up, brows furrowing as he paused the sentence for one... two... three seconds before continuing, spite still as prevalent as ever, "like you belong!"

You watched as her face dropped even further at that—the barely visible bags under her eyes looking about ten times worse than they did before.

Now, you had no idea what type of past you were meant to have shared with this woman—how horrible it truly was—but surely someone who greeted you so warmly at the door couldn't be too bad?

So with that thought in mind, you narrowed your eyes by the slightest amount—a little... hesitantly—before lightly scolding, "Hey. Curt, maybe tone it down a little?"

His attention averted from the woman—hateful, dark eyes that were once throwing daggers her way, now unapologetically directed towards you. "'Tone it down a little'? Do you hear yourself, Y/N? That woman missed almost every single birthday of yours! Every. Single. One!"

Alright, so, you didn't usually consider yourself to be much of a coward, but being the recipient of that deadly gaze was enough to make you yield just this once—both of your hands flying up to rest in the air beside your head. Hey, you tried, he just didn't listen.

Besides, you were only a mere bystander in this squabble anyway. Sure, you felt bad for the woman, but not bad enough to get socked in the face by a boxer for her.

...okay, now you just sounded like a jerk. 

Feeling your heart tighten slightly, you shook your head to rid yourself of those awful, intrusive thoughts and parted your lips in an attempt to redeem yourself.

Keyword: attempt.

Before even a word could breeze past your tongue, another voice entered the fray—one a lot more grounded than any other you'd heard since you opened the door—"What the hell is with all this—? Mom?"

You tilted your head just enough to catch the approaching form of your oldest brother—his figure growing with each step he took—and the closer he grew, the clearer his facial expression became.

His brows were furrowed, but instead of the hostile way that Curt's were, his were more... well, confused?—shocked, perhaps?—or maybe a better word for it would be baffled? Either/or, he didn't look like he was terribly upset with her appearance, further grinding your theory of her not being that bad into reality.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just thought that—" the sudden lack of warmth around your arms had your head whipping back, eyes watching as the same fingers that were once wrapped around you, now awkwardly rubbed the woman's other limb, "—maybe it was about time I spent some quality time with you all?"

Before you could even register what she had said—Curt's voice hastily cut through the air; a tone of finality you hadn't heard him use before laced so deeply within it, "Too little too late."

Though—if you were being entirely honest—you were starting to tune it out—all of it: the apologies, the confusion, the arguing; all of it. A familiar sense of surrealism washed over you as you witnessed the events unfold; as you watched their mouths move soundlessly—your new brothers seemingly arguing with a woman who held the looks of your mother but seemed to act nothing like her.

It was weird, strange. You weren't even sure how to feel. From the looks of things, this... mother of yours seemed to not be around much—and one of your brothers hated her for it, while the other merely seemed to... well, you weren't entirely sure what he felt yet. Hell, you didn't even know what you were supposed to feel.

Should you be sad? Mad? Indifferent?—'cause that's what you felt right now. This world wasn't even meant to have you in it at all. There was no character named Y/N who looked exactly like you and had two older brothers with a seemingly neglectful mother and who-knows-what-happened-to-him father.

Even if you wanted to copy the mannerisms of the Y/N belonging to this world, you couldn't because there wasn't one. She didn't exist.

How the hell were you supposed to react?

You could've asked yourself that question a billion more times, but the sudden rush of air that hit your face crashed you straight back to reality—just in time too, for not even moments later, an abrupt 'slam!' echoed from behind.

Confused, your gaze found Cain's.

"Give him some time. He's probably off to go fuck some chick and get his mind off this."

Slowly, you nodded.

Then, you heard it; the sound of her voice continuing to speak behind you with that broken lilt—the one she just couldn't seem to drop—laced so deeply in her tone.

"I'm so sorry, babies." The woman—your mother—reached out, and you felt her fingers graze you again, "I'm so so sorry."

"It's... alright, mom," Cain responded before you could—voice seeming almost... hesitant, "It's all good."

There was no chatter after that—not a single sound escaped their lips. That was your cue; your cue to either condemn her down to hell or forgive her for this supposed neglect you weren't even around to experience.

"Sweetie..." her voice was shaky—desperate, no doubt, and seeking the forgiveness of a daughter that didn't even belong to her, "please..."

"Uh..." you weren't sure what it was, but something was holding you back from saying anything; from doing something—

—and it looked like she noticed that too. 

"It's okay, I understand..." 

She seems a bit... what's the word?

With hands that were once hopefully clasped around one another, now pitifully falling by her sides, and eyes that seemed to droop just a tad bit more despite the small, ingenuine quirk of her lips upwards; her whole demeanour almost screamed...

Ah. Forlorn. 

Your chest felt heavy at the sight—tight and weighed down. Some type of... guilt was it? ebbed away at you. Though you didn't know why—it wasn't like she was your real mother, after all. In fact, she was a complete stranger to you; someone who you wouldn't even bother sondering over if you passed her by on the street.

How strange.

"Y/N," the soft call of your name caused your ears to perk up, and you turned to your remaining brother, "C'mon, you're due for a change."

"A change?" You tilted your head, eyes still not all there—at least, not until—

"Your bandages."

"Ohhh." 

To be honest, you completely forgot about that.

"Bandages?" From the looks of things, though, your mother couldn't pass it off as easily as you. "For what?" 

Immediately, Cain's eyes locked with yours—his hues swirling with a query you were able to decipher pretty easily: 'Should we tell her?'

Should you? Well, the fact that he had to ask that question in the first place was concerning, to say the least. Maybe you'd hold off on telling her for now. Just for now. Nothing permanent.

Mind made up and eyes stopping at nothing to avoid her own, you told your mother, "Don't worry about it, it's all good."

Her lips turned down, shoulders sagging and gaze falling to the floor like a glossy river over the edge of a cliff; swift and hopeless to anything wishing to stop it.

She looked so... so...

Defeated.

"Ah, okay."

You wished you could say you forgave her—you desperately prayed to—but how could you when the words refused to come out of your throat?—when they relentlessly fought with your tongue to the point they immobilised it and unfairly rendered you incapable of speech?

You could have stood there hopelessly staring at her for hours if you so wished, but the small tug on your wrist averted your gaze, and you found yourself staring at the loosened expression of your other kin.

"Let's get you wrapped up, Y/N."

You nodded.

He then took to guiding you towards the kitchen, and the whole way there, your gaze didn't leave your mother's form—watching as her figure grew smaller with each step—shorter with each breath—before completely disappearing around the corner.

"Don't feel bad."

Your ears perked up—head turning to face your older brother. 

"'Bout mom," he continued, not particularly looking your way, "She hasn't been around for most of our lives, you're allowed to not forgive her."

"What about you?" You asked, "You didn't sound too sure of forgiving her yourself."

He paused. 

"I..."—a rough 'ahem'—"I'm trying to."

You tilted your head. "Trying to?"

"It's..." He trailed off and furrowed his brows, as if searching for something in his mind, before continuing, "hard. Really hard. To look after people—I mean. Especially on your own."

It was your turn to furrow your brows, lips tugging down as you took in his words and really—well—thought for a good second.

It was clear that he was trying his best to be empathetic; to sympathise with her situation. And who better than him? You didn't have to be a genius to decipher the fact that he had been the one to take care of both you and Curt for pretty much the majority of your—supposed—'life'. He probably had to grow up a lot faster than 'you' would've. In that case, he could relate to her.

But, on the other hand...

"It's not fair."

"Huh?" He turned your way, blinking twice.

"To compare yourself to her," you continued, lips still curved down, "You're completely different. While she never bothered to be around, you did. You learned how to cook, clean—hell, maybe even change diapers—"

"Maybe even? You were a little shit and you know it—"

Shit, he changed your diapers too? You were just trying to be dramatic but damn.

"Okay—" that came off a little more exasperated than you wanted and clearly he could sense it too, judging by the way he snickered right after, little shit, "—my point is, you were there and she wasn't. And it's not even your responsibility to take care of us. I get that she has her supposed 'five-year-long' business trips, but she could've made time for us. You're her son too, you're allowed to be mad that she wasn't there."

He stayed silent for a few moments, and you found your hands naturally drifting down—fingers digging into your skirt harshly; anxiously. Sweat gathered on your brow and anticipation ate at your insides, chipping away at your organs and clogging your brain with worry; worry for the elongated silence that greeted your words.

Had you said something wrong? Was he going to snap at you?

Goodbye, cruel world, remember—

A chuckle.

Your ears perked up and your eyes widened in disbelief.

"And here I thought I was the one meant to be cheering you up." His shoulders bounced in a pattern you could only describe as uneven, one hand rising up to swipe at his eye.

The sight caused your muscles to loosen up, fingers losing their grip on your skirt and eyes crinkling fondly as you watched him reach up into an open cupboard—arm disappearing within the confines before reappearing not long after with a red, rectangular bag.

The sound of a zip was the next thing you heard—accompanied by his voice as he said, "Alright, let's get you all patched up, worm."

You scrunched up your nose. "Worm?" 

"Yeah, annoying little things, aren't they?"

"Rude."

Another snicker had your lips quirking up again, a swirl of warmth gathering in your chest; a hint of fondness and pride. Was this how sibling banter felt?

It's... nice.

Before you could enjoy the moment any longer though, your brain just had to ruin it, giving you a thought that had your ears falling again—stomach dropping into a bottomless pit within the confines of your body.

"Is..." you started, and his ears perked up from behind the arm that slowly tugged at the grey gauze, "Is Curt gonna be okay?"

A scoff. "Yeah. You know him, he'll be super bitchy about it but he'll come running back tomorrow morning so don't worry."

You smiled. "So long as he's—ow! Watch it!"

"My bad."

"You did that on purpose."

"I did that on purpose."

"Asshole."

"D'aww, is wittle sissy's feewings hurt?"

"Shut up, you dick!"

You took it back, sibling banter was so not nice.

But, at least it was somewhat fun—unlike what happened next.

"Sweeties?" You tensed, head turning as Cain backed away—the warmth of his hand leaving you with new, pure white gauze around your arm—and turned with you. "I'm gonna head out for the night and go meet up with some old friends. Are you two going to be okay?"

Maybe if you were actually part of this world, you would've said something petty like 'nothing new there' or 'you've already not been around for most of my life, what's one more night?'—but, you weren't, and so settled with a good old fashioned—"We'll be fine,"—instead.

She was out the door in no less than two seconds.

It quickly grew dark following that—night approaching faster than you could register—and there had yet to be any sign of Curt. Guess Cain was right when he said the younger of the two would be back in the morning.

Speaking of Cain, he had some last minute call from a client regarding car troubles. Apparently, they were stranded and in dire need of assistance, so Cain was required to go to them in order to help—though, he was quite reluctant as he, no doubt, voiced to you.

"Oh my god, Cain, I'll be fine." You rolled your eyes.

"Are you sure? This street isn't exactly known for safety," he responded, expression scrunched up with what you recognised as pure worry.

"God, you're just like Steve. Nothing will happen, don't worry."

When the corner of his lips quirked up in response to your words, you felt something akin to dread claw at your innards. "Oh, I'm just like Steve, am I?"

"Shut up, he has a girlfriend," you were saying that more to yourself than him, to be honest.

"Yeah, that he drops anytime you're within two feet of him."

"I swear to god, Cain."

He snickered.

"Just go! I know you're doing this just to stall, go find that poor person stranded by the phone booth!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

And as his shoulders kept jerking up and down, your hand found purchase against the bumpy texture of your wooden door before pushing at full force; a 'slam!' echoing not long after.

"Stupid piece of shit," you grumbled, though, not genuinely.

...okay, maybe just a little genuinely actually, 'cause now he put the stupid thought in your head; the stupid thought of Steve Harrington actually liking you.

Preposterous.

He probably just thought of you as a really close friend—he supposedly knew you since childhood, after all, of course he would value you over Nancy sometimes.

But... theoretically, say he felt more, what would it be like?

Would he hold your hand and pull you in close? Whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you lay against him in the dead of night?—sinking into his warmth and stuffing your face in his sturdy chest. Would his lips feel soft against the bare skin of your neck?—passionate and sublime as he marked you up as his own, going lower and lower and—

Three knocks against your door.

Ugh.

"Oh my god, Cain, how many times—? Nancy?"

Lo and behold, there stood the very girlfriend of the guy you were just fantasising about.

Honestly, you would've thought it awkward had you not caught a glimpse of her expression; just a glance long enough to bleed you dry of all your previous thoughts and scrunch your face up as a whole new set rushed in—worrisome ones.

Her eyes were bloodshot, red veins visible and bringing out the puffiness to a degree that had your heart clenching and your lips subconsciously parting open to ask, "Are you alright?"

She gulped, voice shaky as she responded with, "Can I come in?" 

Slowly, you nodded—palm pushing against the door just enough to allow it to fall slightly more ajar.

"Here, come sit." You gestured to the couch, hands hesitantly ghosting over her shoulders as you guided her there—watching as she gently sat down, the cotton shifting under her weight. "Can I get you anything?"

She didn't respond: head tilted down, shoulders drooped, and overall demeanour looking to be completely put-off. The poor thing.

You figured a cup of water would be fine, she looked like she needed it.

What was she doing here, anyway? From what you gathered based on the very few interactions you'd had with her, the two of you weren't very close. Why, then, would she suddenly show up at your door so late at night?

Those thoughts plagued your mind as you made your way over to the kitchen—bare feet numb to the cool of the floor. They haunted you as you reached for a cup with one hand and twisted the tap with the other—fingers unfeeling of the pressure that rained upon them. They consumed your entire being until you were left with nothing but the husk of a person on autopilot—quietly making your way back to the living room.

It was only when your eyes landed on her form again, that you snapped out of it in a small burst of surprise.

Gone was the once sat-down figure with an air of dismay clouding her form—replaced, instead, by one that stood up straight, brows furrowed and shoulders tensed as she paced back and forth vigorously. Keyword: paced—she stopped as soon as you arrived, much to your own confusion.

"Nancy, what are you—?" 

"You're thinking about Barb too, right?"

She looked you dead in the eyes, and you almost found yourself growing fidgety under her intense gaze.

"What?"

"It's just that..." she trailed off, faltering for a moment, "well, Steve mentioned you've been acting off lately—"

Shit. Steve was catching on.

"—and I was wondering if... it was bothering you too." 

You blinked, parting your lips to ask for a little more—for some sort of elaboration—but her voice continued before you even had a chance.

"I mean, it's dumb that we have to keep this whole thing a secret!" She exclaimed, hands making wild gestures now. "Her family deserves to know." 

You stood there, blinking in a daze that hadn't quite passed since the moment she arrived. It felt like you had just wandered into a confusing maze, with twists and turns spanning as far as the eye could see; each one riddled with its own set of confusing obstacles you couldn't quite wrap your head around.

On one hand, Nancy's words made sense, you saw why she felt that way—you heard her—and it was so much more prominent in person than over a screen.

On the other hand, as a viewer of the show and a victim of unfortunate circumstance, you hadn't a clue where she was going with this. You knew why she was telling you all of this (you were acting strange and she was feeling off so duh she would try and see if you related) but, where was she going with it? What did she want with you? Surely it wasn't just comfort.

"Do you... want to come with me to tell her parents?"

Ah. There it was.

She wanted you to join her. This was certainly quite the twist. Everything that had happened up until now had alluded to the fact that you were going to join Steve for this season—and to be honest, you preferred that over this.

Besides, she was meant to do all of this with Jonathan—if you said yes, you'd just be getting in the way of their romance and, ergo, the plot itself.

"I don't know..." you started, mind already made up but heart trying its best to ease her into it, "the government wouldn't really like that and we could get in a ton of trouble."

She scoffed. "Who gives a fuck what they think?"

You deadpanned. "Well, Nance, they are kinda the government so..."

"There's this guy," she started, cutting you off and handing you a card, "Barb's parents told me about him—if things don't work out, we can go to him."

Sure enough, you recognised the character as soon as she mentioned him—another prominent adult within the series, quite the funny one too. But, not funny enough for you to pass up spending this season helping out Steve instead.

"Look, Nancy, I—"

You were cut off when her gaze hardened, fists clenching and head shaking from side-to-side—almost seeming disappointed.

"God, you're just like him." And when she spoke, it was bitter—plagued with an icky green—"You two are perfect for each other."

The following events happened too quickly for you to register; one second, she was standing before you with desperation clear on her visage—the next?—she had snatched the card right out from your hands and stormed over to your front door, steps heavy and quaking and loud.

"Nance, wait! Nancy!"

A slam.

Well shit.

You bit your lip, brain replaying the events that had just occurred in too rapid of a succession for you to be able to even respond to them.

A small voice prodded at the back of your mind, lulling you into following after her and clearing up... whatever the hell that was.

However, a much larger, more prominent voice said, fuck it. Because—well, you were in Stranger Things for god's sake! Who the hell cared about some teen drama when there were fucking monsters to worry about?—monsters that you sure as hell weren't about to face weaponless.

Nancy could get over whatever was bothering her so much on her own, you had bigger issues to worry about.

Come on, Y/N, get your head out of the clouds and into the game.

Resolve strengthened and distractions now temporarily at the back of your mind, your feet bounded towards a familiar box mounted onto the wall, fingers wrapping around the cool metal before you punched in a number you had long since memorised over your time in this world.

Turned out, this drama was just the push you needed.

"Harrington residence."

"Steve."

It was silent for a few seconds before you were graced with a response. "Y/N? If you're calling about the dinner at Barb's, I swear—"

"No, no. It's not that, don't worry."

Another pause.

"Are you... okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"You sure? You sound a little... tense."

Your lips quirked up. "You can tell?"

"Well, yeah. I've known you since like, birth."

Leave it to Steve Harrington to put a smile on your face where there wasn't one before.

Seriously though, you might not have actually known him since birth but... something about him noticing how you felt from just the sound of your voice made you feel all... tingly inside—like a warm cloud of pure pink coated you within its comfy confines.

 "Y/N? You there?"

"Oh." You jolted, fingers halting in their ministrations with the phone wire, since when did you start twirling it around? "Uh, yeah. I just called to let you know I'm skipping tomorrow so don't bother picking me up, okay?"

"You're skipping? What? Why?"

"Just—uh, don't feel like it."

"You know you've already missed seven days, right?" 

"Yeah—" you shrugged as though he could see you, "—what's a couple more?"

"...alright, if that's what you want."

"Thanks Stevie, you're the best, love you!"

You slammed the phone back into the wall before he could respond, but you imagined he released quite the long sigh after your words.

Nevermind that though, you should probably head to bed—you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow; one consisting of many preparations for the challenges that lay ahead.

First things first, you needed yourself a weapon—and no, a wrench was not ideal. You got lucky the first time, you'd rather not risk it the second.

A gun; long reach, high chances of actually killing, probably easy to use—it sounded perfect. Just the thing you'd need. The only problem you could possibly see was...

...how would you get one?

You weren't terribly familiar with gun laws—never had the need to look into them—but even if you were, they definitely changed since the 80s so you were pretty much clueless in that regard. 

You could ask one of your brothers if they had one, they certainly seemed like the type—at least, Curt definitely did. 

Or maybe he's the type to only fight with his fists?

Tricky—that's what this all was. So tricky, in fact, that the rest of the night was spent contemplating how you would go about obtaining the lethal weapon—

—actually, that wasn't entirely true; you sure wished it was though. Unfortunately for you however, your brain rather stupidly refused to focus on the task at hand, randomly flushing you with thoughts of both your... mother and Nancy whenever you least expected it, two huge pieces of drama that you—quite frankly—didn't feel like dealing with.

But apparently, pushing them to the back of your mind was easier said than done.

Come next morning, you figured indulging in those thoughts wouldn't be too big of a headache after being well-rested with a nice cup of coffee to aid you through your day.

Okay, so, Nancy's behaviour last night wasn't too strange; she had that dinner at Barb's—one you knew she cried at since they dedicated a whole scene to her sobbing in the bathroom. That explained why she was quick to jump to aggression you guessed.

Still, it was strange how she snapped at you (basically her acquaintance) like how she had done Steve (her literal boyfriend) in the show. Did you get something wrong? Were you two closer than you thought you were? Perhaps you had some history with her you weren't aware of.

Unfortunately, until you had more information, you were gonna have to leave that trail of thought.

Now, about your mother...

"Morning, sis."

You nodded—eyes clouded—before responding with, "Morning Cain," and then, as if just registering who you were talking to after their name spilled from your lips, your eyes cleared up and you turned to continue with a much more firm voice, "Hey, do you know if we have any guns at home?"

He paused, one hand rested against the handle of the fridge, one floating mid-air. "Guns?"

"Yeah, guns."

He turned to you fully now, eyes narrowing and sturdy arms folding over his chest as the door shut behind him. "Why would you need to know where the guns are?"

The lie was quick to form on your tongue. "For self-defence, duh."

"Uh-huh."

"Please Cain—" you clasped both hands over each other, "—I promise I won't hurt anyone with them."

Not anyone human, at least.

"You do realise they're made for hurting people, right?"

"Yeah, but I won't use them that way."

He deadpanned. "You're not getting a gun."

"Dammit." 

Okay, this was fine. You could work with this. He just confirmed to you that you did, in fact, have guns in this house. All you had to do was look for them. And you knew just where to start.

"Uh, where the hell are you going?"

You paused, hand grazing the bumpy, wooden rail as you tilted your head just enough to peek into the kitchen again. "To my room, where else?"

"Don't you have school?"

"Don't you have a job?"

He crossed his arms again. "You're not skipping, shitbird."

"What?" 

"I said: you aren't skipping."

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping open and stomach falling with the spoilt remains of your plan—the ashes and dust piling up enough to cause you to splutter and ask, "You serious?"

His gaze was stern, holding no hint of that playful demeanour you acquainted yourself with last night, "Completely. No playing hooky. You've already got enough absents from that injury of yours."

As if suddenly reminded of its own existence, said wound sent a shock down your arm—trailing through your veins to usher a visible wince on your face.

Before you could say anything else though—plead your case and hope to god he'd let you off—his eyes widened a little, mouth forming a circle before he spoke again, saying, "That's why Harrington ain't here, right? You told him you were skipping?"

You said nothing.

A long, highly exasperated sigh. "Just go get ready, I'll drop you off."

He didn't have to tell you twice.

You rushed up the stairs, wasting no time to burst into a room flooded with posters—all holding different expressions with one, huge thing in common; a pair of bright red gloves.

If anyone had a gun, it was definitely Curt.

Tick. Tock. You were on a time constraint so you had to be quick with this. Anything that even remotely seemed to have enough space to hold a gun inside was instantly ripped open—hinges jingling and wood slamming against wood as your hands scurried the area—rummaged through the masses—desperately seeking what they had yet to find.

That was—until, now.

In the midst of multiple hung up pieces of soft materials shrouded in darkness, your fingers grazed something cold and solid; rough and bumpy. Slowly they wound around the thing, noting its shape, before exerting a force—a tug.

Nothing. It didn't budge.

You tried again, pushing this time.

Again. Nothing.

Third time's the charm.

This time, you pushed upwards.

Bingo.

As if by magic, it fell straight into your hands, and you wasted no time to pull it into the light.

Dark, L-shaped, and a lever poking out from one side—yup, there was no doubt about it. Though, it was one of the weaker variants of the lethal weapon—it would have to do.

Now you could—

"What are you doing in my room?"

Curt. Shit.

"Scratch that—what are you doing with a gun?!"

Your wrist was seized at the entrance before you could even attempt to sneak past—his E/C eyes trained on the object in your hand, not at all paying attention to the way your expression shifted into one of unease, smile twitching a little.

"Curt, hey! When did you come in..?"

"Doesn't matter," he dismissed, "Why do you have a gun? Is someone bothering you at school? You know you can say the word and I'll take care of it, right? Like in Freshman year?"

"Freshman year?" What happened in Freshman year?

"That dickhead Senior who kept picking on you? How did you forget that already?"

You parted your lips, an excuse practically begging to be released from your tongue, but he beat you to it.

"Nevermind, just tell me who it is and I'll take care of it. There's no need to bring a gun into it."

There's no need to bring a gun but it's totally okay beating them up? Some scuffed logic there.

"No one's bothering me, Curt. I uh, I just need it to kill the wolf that attacked me the other day."

He rose a brow. "Kill the wolf that attacked you the other day?"

"Uh... yup."

God, this was so stupid. What kind of excuse was that? 'Kill the wolf that attacked you the other day'? Yeah right.

"Atta girl. That's my sister."

A good excuse apparently—it was a good excuse.

You almost couldn't believe it—the way he pulled you in, wrapping his arm around your neck in a half-hug that almost made it seem as though he was proud of you.

Surely he had taken way too many hits to the head in his profession because you had no clue how he bought that.

But, you weren't complaining.

"Hey, uh, do me a favour?" 

He rose a brow. "What?"

"Don't tell Cain, yeah?" 

He rolled his eyes. "Of course not, he'd have my head in a heartbeat if he knew I was condoning this."

You grinned, just about ready to give him two thumbs up leaking gratitude and appreciation—when a voice called from downstairs.

"Y/N! Hurry up!"

"A few more minutes!"

That was your cue to go to your room.

Cool air hit your skin as soon as the cotton of your sleepwear was removed—the slight buzz of pain on your arm making itself known once more with another prick, annoying but not unbearable; not like before.

The new bandages looked better than the previous ones; cleaner. Some spots seemed to have given in—allowing red to seep through their snow-white sheets; stain their pure surface. Those parts were stickier than the others, but also, few and far between.

Damn, kinda looks badass.

"I'm not getting any younger here, Y/N!"

"I'm coming! Gheez."

What was that? His catchphrase or something?

With a roll of your eyes, you threw on a top, slipped into a skirt, very quickly touched up on your make-up, and ran down the steps. Nothing too elaborate—you didn't plan on actually going into school anyway.

What? You said you'd skip, so you were gonna skip. You'd just wait 'till he drove off or something.

Actually... this could work out better than you thought.

He was bringing you to school; where one Steve Harrington currently was. And you know what else was at school? Steve's BMW—AKA, the perfect place to store your gun until it was needed.

Yeah, this could work out perfectly.

"Get in, shitbird."

You said nothing, seizing the frigid handle like you had done many a time before, and climbing straight in.

The sky was bleak—the sun invisible; covered by the vast curtain of grey clouds that seemed uninteresting but, for some reason, you couldn't stop looking at. 

The pistol you held was tucked under you—out of sight; though not of mind. It felt cool against your skin, sent a shudder through you, up your spine and through your nerves. It kept you rigid.

"I would've let you skip."

You turned, observing the way Cain's gaze stayed trained onto the road ahead, one hand on the wheel, one resting on his lap.

"On any normal circumstance," he continued, shrugging, "but y'know, mom's home and—I don't know if you wanna stick around for that."

"Okay."

"You good?" Now he gave you a bit of a side-eye, one brow raised.

"Yeah, just... thinking about what I'm gonna wear for the Halloween bash at Tina's."

That was a lie, you honestly couldn't care less.

"Party, huh?" He turned his gaze back ahead. "I remember the ragers I used to go to way back when."

"Must've been fun, huh fossil?"

"Watch it, worm."

You snickered.

"Alright, we're here. Get out before I make you."

Older brothers are a piece of work.

You shimmied in your seat, swinging both legs over to the open door, hand firmly around the handle of the weapon beneath your thighs, when—

"What are you doing?"

You froze. "Uh, I don't... I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're getting out of the car weirdly." His tone was pointed—suspicious—and even without having to turn around, you could tell his brow was raised in question.

"No I'm not."

"Uh, yeah you are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Slowly, you found yourself able to move your limbs again—annoyance bringing both them and your own brow to life, filtering out any previous fear within an instant. "Don't you have work or something?" 

You heard nothing for a few tense moments—though soon, a curt—"Just go,"—made its way to your ears, and the weight on your shoulders was relieved of you.

Once again, you found yourself thinking, he didn't have to tell you twice.

The cool air almost felt relieving against your skin when you finally jumped out—the 'crunch!' of pebbles echoing beneath you—but nothing could compare to the pure amount of genuine solace you were graced with when the sound of the engine starting up again behind you danced into your ears; the sound of wheels skidding across the ground slowly growing farther.

That was a little too close for your liking.

No matter, it was time to find Steve's BMW. While looking for it, though, you might as well review your thoughts.

The events of Season 2 had already kicked off the moment you saw Billy, which meant that while you waited for the next canonical event to occur with the teens, the main group of kids were having their own scenes play out. You were sure by now they were off trying to befriend Billy's stepsister. But, quite frankly, that was irrelevant information to you.

What was relevant, however, was the fact that one of the kids—Dustin Henderson—would end up dragging Steve into quite the predicament. That predicament being one wherein he would end up being surrounded by a bunch of grotesque, man-eating monsters with nothing but a bat to defend himself with—granted, it had nails on the end but it was still not a weapon you'd use.

Now, more likely than not, you would be by his side while it all went down—and you already established that you weren't about to die in this world, so, really, your only option was getting that gun to use in case those demon dogs changed their minds and decided they wanted a taste of fresh, alternative dimension meat.

You had seen first-hand what they were like—held scars they forced onto you on your first day. You felt that chilling fear grip you at the sight of them—chain your limbs up and strangle you enough to almost render you immovable; immobile. Their boney structure, their razor-sharp teeth, their—

"N/N? What are you doing here?"

You jumped, startled out of your thoughts to meet with two pools of brown—familiar in their warmth and softened edges.

"I thought you were playing hooky today."

"Oh, uh—" you cleared your throat, patting down the ruffles of your skirt and avoiding any eye-contact, "—I still am but, Cain caught me and drove me to school so."

He didn't say anything after that, so you took to peering up again. This time, however, you were met with a different set of eyes, ones looking a little bloodshot and inflamed—barely noticeable if you hadn't already seen it the previous night. 

They were looking at you through narrowed lenses, pupils shrunk in and gaze heavy with the events of the other night—the distaste of that fateful encounter.

You looked away.

"Oh, uh, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I uh, left some of my lipstick in your car, do you mind if I go grab it?"

You returned your gaze to him just in time to catch the pointed look on his face, hands on his hips in that 'mom' way that just screamed Steve Harrington.

"Really, N/N? This is—what?—like the tenth time already?"

You forced a sheepish look, turning your lips up with nerves that weren't triggered by the sentence you'd just heard, per se—but rather, the pair of eyes still burning a hole through your head.

You ignored them when Steve tossed you the keys with a playful roll of his eyes; when you half-entered the car, stuffing the gun into a compartment you knew he wouldn't open anytime soon; you even ignored them as you made your way back to the duo, handing Steve his keys back and quickly denying his offer to cut class with you.

"You sure?" He pushed, brows scrunched up and lips tugged down.

"Yup!" You rose both thumbs. "Hundred percent!"

He parted his mouth open but you didn't wait for a response, turning around quickly to scurry off with those eyes still refusing to leave your backside.

Why the hell did she have to be there?

You couldn't even enjoy your successful little quest, too tense from Nancy's heavy gaze to do anything. It was as though the moment you saw her, your brain instantly replayed the events of last night—the disdain in her voice—and from the looks of her glare, she had the same problem.

Man, this sucked.

You just wanted to experience the world of Stranger Things as safely and non-dramatically as possible but noooo, you had to deal with freaking monsters and teenage girls who—

"Woah, we have got to stop bumping into each other like this."

Your lashes fluttered, eyes training onto a familiar battle jacket littered with logos a plenty—all of which belonged to heavy metal bands. 

"Eddie." 

"Hey, sweetheart." His lips quirked up—smile reaching his eyes so much so that they crinkled. "What are you doing here? I thought you were playing hooky?"

You deadpanned. "Does everyone know I'm skipping?"

"Well, you are kinda the Queen Bee, sweetheart." His hair bounced as he shrugged.

A thought occurred to you just then, and you found your eyes widening slightly in alarm. "Even the teachers?!"

"Well, no wastoid is exactly going to tell any teachers that the Queen of Hawkins High is skipping." 

Wastoid? Wha—?

"Hey, uh—" you blinked, watching as Eddie took to throwing a hand behind his neck, rubbing against the skin as he continued, tone feigning confidence, "—I was actually planning on skipping too so, if you want, we could hotbox in my car?"

Tempting. With all this stress from Nancy, your mom, and the demodogs—weed seemed like the perfect thing to kick back to.

You deserved some time to relax, no? 

"Yeah, sure, let's do it."

He perked up, excitement seeping through the grin on his lips as he dramatically bowed with one hand stretched out. "Right this way, milady."

You giggled, your own hand rising up to rest gently against his as you tried your damndest to keep from squealing because—holy shit, you were holding Eddie Munson's hand. You knew girls who would fucking kill to be in your position right now.

His skin was hot against your own; or maybe that was just your whole body heating up in general. You couldn't deny your attraction to the man—hell, you got literal heart eyes whenever you watched him on TV.

Eddie Munson—the guy who got held back in high-school for two years (well—one year as of right now). Eddie Munson—the guy who held the personality of a fun, playful ray of sunshine despite the way he dressed. Eddie Munson—the guy who sacrificed himself to save a whole town of people who abhorred him.

Yeah, you had a big, fat crush on the man.

He could literally be leading you to your death right now and you'd thank him.

"Alright," the sound of a car door sliding open perked your ears up, "I just got a new batch rolling in from Cali so—"

He cut himself off when he turned back around, jaw falling slack as a streak of red slowly crawled across his face, tinging the tips of his ears and ushering a cough straight out of his mouth.

Now, you would normally wonder why he'd reacted that way but you were too distracted by the ache of your own cheeks to—

Ohhh. The ache of your own cheeks.

You quickly cleared your throat, steeling your expression and cursing yourself for being so obvious. Gushing so blatantly in front of characters was going to get you killed in this world, you really had to get rid of that habit.

Lord knew what type of ridiculous expression you had on your face just then.

"Right, uh, you were saying?" You asked as you climbed in, willing yourself to ignore what had just happened.

"Oh, uh, I just had a new batch come in from Cali."

You perked up, interest piqued. "From Cali?! They have the best stuff."

He grinned with you, blush calming down as he rummaged around, hands digging through the many different boxes that scattered the floor.

Meanwhile, you took to shutting the door of the vehicle. Come to think of it, this van kinda looked a bit like the mystery van from scooby doo, except, without the colour. 

It was a mess on the inside; if there weren't boxes of who-knows-what substances lying around, then there were various different instruments instead, nothing differing from the norm associated with a band; and yet, just the fact that Eddie was here—that all of this belonged to him—was enough to make it feel special.

You should really ask Eddie if you could sit in on one of his practices one day.

Speaking of the drug dealer, he finally emerged from the pile of boxes hidden in the corner—a plastic zip bag containing a crushed substance within one of his ring-clad hands.

He flicked it with a grin on his face, head turning up as a pair of excited pools met with your own. "Bag of peaceful bliss right here."

You watched with intrigue as his fingers got to work, rolling up the substance effortlessly, as if he'd done it a million times before—which, granted, he probably had.

"Ladies first."

Your lips quirked up, fingers winding around the roll and, in turn, brushing against his own. It was a light touch—a feathery brush—still, it was enough to run tingles down your arm.

The stick was placed to your mouth with one hand, the other curling in on itself in a gesture that asked Eddie to pass over the lighter.

His large hand slowly came to cup your own, fingers engulfing yours—sending warmth to circulate in your blood; to flood your vision in pink—before lightly moving it away. "Allow me, sweetheart."

You didn't move, staying still as he pulled the metallic box up to your face, thumb flicking against the open lid a few times before the flame jumped to life.

It was hot; unbearably so—his breath across your face. The flame was practically nothing compared to him and his proximity. And it only got hotter as you continued staring at him.

It was because you were staring at him so intensely, in fact, that you caught the way his eyes briefly flickered. It was quick, barely noticeable—but you had noticed, and you had seen where they looked.

Your lips quirked up and you took the roll out of your mouth, puffing smoke straight into his face. "Staring at my lips, huh, pretty boy?"

Your grin only grew when he spluttered. 

Before he could respond, though, you had lightly shoved the roll into his mouth—lips still quirked up.

You only withdrew when he rose two fingers to rest the cigar against. 

"Hey, Eddie?"

He blinked.

"You're not gonna make me pay for this, are you?"

The roll left his mouth with a puff. "Depends."

As he placed it back inside, you rose a brow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, oh."

"Well..." you trailed off, slowly shifting your hips up before plopping them back down—

—straight. onto. his. lap.

His breath audibly hitched; a series of coughs following not long after.

"Careful," you hissed out, plucking the roll from his lips and shifting in your seat—about to climb off—when a warmth snaked its way around your waist, rendering you motionless.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Heat crawled up your spine, invading your senses and hyperfixating your attention on Eddie and the way his lips grazed the lobe of your ear. Any and all previous thoughts were washed away; taking with them your breath.

His hand fell over your own again, ushering the substance back into your mouth and your eyes grew heavy as you took another puff, melting into putty in the arms of the school freak.

The car was quickly fogging up—everywhere you breathed was starting to have that strong, earthy taste to it.

Trippy.

You pulled away, mind hazy and barely able to register the way his lips tugged down. 

With just a little wiggle of your hips, his arms fell and his brows scrunched up with worry. You didn't let him voice it though, quickly turning around to lay down and prop your elbows up on his thighs—arms almost immediately going lax once you got comfortable.

Your head now rested on his lap, and you peered up at him through hooded eyes. "Much better."

He smiled down at you again, finger moving to trace your cheek with that same feathery touch from before—the one that elicited a flurry of tingles through your skin.

"Tell me about yourself, Eds."

"Hm?"

"I wanna know you better."

Better than you already did, that was.

"What d'you wanna know?" He asked.

"Anything." You threw your hands up, puffing once more. "I wanna know more 'bout Super Senior Eddie Munson."

He hummed. "I plan to make it big one day."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Groupies 'n everything."

You reached up, placing the blunt against his lips as you proclaimed loudly, "I bet they would trip over 'emselves to get a taste of you."

He winked. "That's what 'm planning." Then, he paused for a minute, expression softening before another inquiry left his mouth. "What about you?"

"Me?"

What were you planning? Survival, really. But, to be honest—and this wasn't just the weed speaking (or was it? You couldn't really tell)—you just wanted to experience the show; meet the characters and bond over little things. Kinda like what you were doing right now.

"I plan on..."

The characters from this show were precious, and you loved them all to bits. They didn't deserve any of what happened to them, that was why you planned on...

"...protecting those I love."

Yeah, perfect.

His eyes widened a little—startled, no doubt, and not expecting that kind of response from you. The perfect opportunity to trip him up more.

"Wanna be one of them?" 

He already was one but—he didn't know that.

You assumed he must've been too flustered to talk, because he didn't respond to that—only choosing to continuously blink at you.

This weed was sure making your confidence sky rocket.

Speaking of things the weed was doing for you—your vision was tripping majorly.

The ceiling seemed to zoom in, but also zoom out at the same time, and sometimes you swore you could see the detailed wisps of the smoke that flooded the car's inside; the very atoms that made them up. 

Colours were hard to register in your mind; their names even harder—but, with how relaxed the fumes were making you and your tensed muscles, you couldn't really bring yourself to care.

And Eddie—oh Eddie—he just looked so pretty to you right now; so jaw-dropping and mesmerising. Even with how red his eyes were and the extent at which his pupils dilated, they still looked tremendously pretty. His lips were so cute, pink and begging for attention.

You couldn't help it; the way your hand reached out to cup his cheek and guide his head down. Luckily, though, you still had enough sense to tilt his head enough so that instead of your lips touching, your noses did.

If you were going to kiss Eddie, it sure as hell wasn't happening while you were high.

"Y'know," Eddie breathed into your eyes, causing them to flutter shut as you hummed, "I used to think you were a huge bitch."

That shot your eyes open.

"I mean, when you stuck around with people like Tommy H and Carol, it was kinda hard not to."

Ah. Steve's former friends.

"Not to mention King Steve. Though, I don't know if I should call him that anymore."

"'Cause of Billy?"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Have you seen him? It's only, like, his second day and he's got girls wrapped around his finger like it's nothing."

"I'm sure it'll stay that way permanently too."

"Yeah, he seems like the type to like it."

"Hm?"

"The attention."

Your lips tugged down. "Are you implying something, Eddie?"

"...maybe a little."

Your frown grew deeper. "Y'know, Eds, you shouldn't judge people without getting to know them first."

"Oh? And I suppose you know a ton about Hargrove, huh?"

You narrowed your eyes before you spoke again—tone laced in warning—"Eddie."

He rose both hands, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"My bad."

"It's okay, let's just forget about it," you said, "I came here to relax and enjoy some time away from stress."

"Stress?"

Well, you supposed it wouldn't be the end of the world if you shared a little with the class. 

"Nancy said something... weird to me the other night." 

"Harrington's girl?"

"Yeah... she sounded bitter."

"Maybe she was jealous."

You moved to sit up but Eddie was quick to push you back down, both hands placed firmly—yet gently—on your shoulders. "Jealous?"

"Yeah."

"Why would she be jealous for?"

He scoffed. "Oh please, you and Harrington are attached at the hip—if I were your boyfriend, I would be jealous."

For a moment, you allowed yourself to ignore the hypothetical scenario of Eddie being your boyfriend, if only to pay more attention to the apparent green creature that held Nancy by the neck.

Could it be? Was she jealous? Was that why she reacted as strongly as she did when you tried to let her down slowly?

"Hey now, whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it." Eddie's finger tapped against your cheek, sending tiny ripples through your skin. "You said it yourself, you're here to relax, not to stress."

He couldn't be more right.

And with that thought in mind, you sank deeper into the warmth of Eddie's lap, pure safety and comfort shrouding your form—blanketing you so nicely in the soothing presence that was Eddie Munson.

And as your eyes fluttered shut, you whispered one last thing with a warm smile, "This was nice. Thank you, Eddie."

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly, @sophiaj650, @mfnqueen1, @axionn, @harrysgoldenwatermelon, @simpfo, @adrienette715, @tippyeddy

I've been watching a lot of zombie stuff recently so I was wondering how Steve, Eddie, and Billy would react to a zombie apocalypse. I'm tempted to write an au but I need to focus on the next part 😭

Tell you what, if the masterlist to this series ever reaches 500 notes, I'll write a zombie apocalypse AU (Edit: Holy shit, it's at 400, wtf?)

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Bad Manners

Pairing: Dark Billy Hargrove x (female) Reader

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Billy has to teach you a few manners, even if it’s the hard way. 

WARNINGS: Domestic Violence; Slapping; Toxic/Abusive Marriage

AN: This is soo mean. But I had to do it.

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

Miserable sobs fill the bedroom as you receive another slap, knees numb from kneeling for so long on the ground as Billy towers over you. 

“Do you think I’m that stupid? That I wouldn’t fucking notice as you tried to get inside the waiter’s pants? Flirting with him right in front of me, you fucking slut!” Billy shouts, rage irradiating from him as his hand connects with your cheek for the seventh time, head whiplashing to the side from the immense force. 

“I-I wasn’t, Billy! This is a misunderstanding, I swear-” you’re readily cut off by another ruthless smack, this one leaving you a bit dizzy. 

“Getting an attitude, huh?”

It was a mistake to be remotely nice to the male waiter of the dinner you went to as Billy is incapable of letting you interact with other people. A meaningless smile and a few nice words were more than enough to spite his intense jealousy towards anyone that not him. 

What was supposed to be a nice family dinner ended up with you crying on the floor of your bedroom, mascara running down your face and cheeks starting to swell while Billy berates at you.

Not the evening you had envisioned for tonight. 

The door cracks an opening and a small boy peers into the room, his eyes curiously scanning the scene. Billy immediately halts his raised hand, giving you a stern look as a warning.

You should’ve been more quiet. 

“Why is mommy crying? Did she get hurt?” your son’s innocent voice breaks your heart and you instantly turn away your face, not wanting him to see your disfigured face. 

Small footsteps are heard as your son tries to get near you, his fingers briefly touching your arm but Billy immediately picks him up, pulling him away.  

“It’s nothing, buddy. Daddy was just teaching mommy some manners, that’s all. She’s been needing them for a while now.” Billy’s voice is much softer as he speaks to your son.

You can’t resist turning your head for a second and it never fails to surprise you how similar Billy and William are.

Father and son, the exact same physical features, apart from the ones inherited from you. But they’re not the same and you promise you won't allow Billy to change your son into the same monster he is, just like his father before him. You'll do better than what Billy's mom did.

“Now how about I tuck you into bed? Mommy still has a few more lessons to go through. Why don't you say goodnight to mommy.” he quickly says to the toddler.

“Night, mommy. And please learn fast.” your son sleepily yawns, eyes already closing.

“There we go then. And Y/N…” Billy pauses and you glance at him, a cold angry expression taking over the sweet expression he had put on for your son, who now has his face safely tucked in Billy’s shoulders.

“...you wait there. We’re not done yet.” 

[lostgirlsinofgluttony]

Yan billy with breeding kink @jovialladyaurora

based on a request sent in~💕hope you like it

He holds you down while rutting into you “shit baby I’m gonna fill you up” he says. In your ear

as he pounds into you your body littered with marks as he keeps demeaning you. “What a little whore” mumbled crying in the pillow while he spanks you. ”This is all your good for” He yells while he grabs a fist full of your hair” say it!” “Say your mine and only mine” you cry out in broken whimpers “im only yours billy only yours” he grunts in response his pace goes faster you feel him throb in you as he reaches your deepest parts he reaches a hand down to rub your clit “cum with me “he grunts out you moan out loudly feeling the familiar bubbly sensation until you feel it snap. “God your sucking me Aren’t you” soon after you he releases with a loud moan. he kisses and nibbles at your back. “Such a good cockslut aren’t you”

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Billy Hargrove Drabble

Word count ; 5.5k

*Edited.

TW : Themes of abuse (it's Billy Hargrove) & suicide.

*Side note : I should be getting back to the normal upload schedule tomorrow! Thanks for yins' patience.

It started out like any other shallow attraction. He was on the afternoon shift at the pool as a lifeguard, the heavy summer sun beating down on him. Billy’s eyes scanned the various women around the pool, perversely drinking in each body. Nobody could tell because of the sunglasses, but that’s what he was always up to.

And that’s when he heard it. A piercing, angelic giggle. His entire body shifted, and that’s when he saw her. A young woman around his age was bouncing in from the locker room, surrounded by a small group of friends. Her laugh was so innocent, and yet, she was wearing a bikini, which contradicted that. She had a cute towel clutched underneath her armpit, and her eyes kept flitting around joyously. She adorned a soft smile.

It took Billy’s breath away. She had no idea what about her did so. He almost lost control of his body, wanting nothing more than to climb down and approach her. 

But that wasn’t how Billy worked. He drew the women to him. Not the other way around. The only thing that he noticed as she set her stuff on a reclined chair with her pals was a chubby little boy who was running around the pavement in the corner of his eye.

That was just the distraction he needed. He reached for his whistle and blew. The entire pool became silent, eyes glued to Billy’s form. The only person he noticed, though, was her. Her doe eyes examining him. He lowered the whistle.

“Hey, lardo! Stop running!” he boomed.

After a moment of silence and watching the kid tremble out of embarrassment he blew the whistle again. The hustle and bustle of the pool ensued once more but immediately his eyes flitted back to the mysterious and attractive new woman. She was still stunned, watching Billy. He resisted a smug smirk.

Already, she was just where he wanted her.

And yet, the afternoon passed, just like that. And the next shift he had, the woman didn’t show. Billy wasn’t sure why he was so enamored with someone who’s name he didn’t know. But he was. And that made the difference. He even hooked up with some of his frequents, and yet, as he fucked the living daylight out of them, his thoughts automatically turned to the beautiful woman who had an even more beautiful laugh.

When Billy went to bed, he heard it. Singled out, despite how loud the pool had been that day. In his dreams, he saw her, frolicking in the water with her friends. At work, his head would turn in anticipation every time a woman walked through that door.

But it was never her. And Billy wasn’t sure why, but he was petrified that it would never be her again.

It was almost the end of summer. The mysterious woman, Billy had convinced himself, was nothing but a heat-of-the-summer hallucination. It made sense to him, because never had a single woman captivated him so much. Never had a laugh been so attractive to him.

He had but a few more shifts before the pool shut down. It saved the water bills since school was starting in a few weeks and the kids would stop coming.

Billy was glad for that. He didn’t like kids. He never had. They were just stupid little shitheads as far as he was concerned.

He was shaken from his thoughts when, all of a sudden he heard it. That same melodic laugh. His entire body swerved, and even when he realized he was looking right at that same woman who had captured him solely by existing, he was sure it was a hallucination.

It was the same routine as last time. She returned to the same beach chair with her friends. It was so robotic that he had a hard time understanding if she was even real. And, even when the same ‘lardo’ was running around the pool, he didn’t notice. He was too enamored by the woman.

And then, she jumped in the water. Some of her friends began giggling and laughing, nudging her in the water. Her cheeks flushed, and Billy couldn’t help but wonder what for. That was, at least, until a friend motioned Billy’s way. He seized up.

Why was he nervous? The woman’s eyes flickered over his direction before turning away, abashed. Billy was always so confident. And yet, he was so worried about what she thought of him. Did she think he was attractive? Creepy? Did she think anything at all about him?

The sunglasses slid down the rim of his nose, revealing his azure eyes. The woman’s gaze returned to Billy, but this time, she didn’t look away immediately. They maintained steady eye contact much to her friends’ joy. And to Billy’s. A smirk grew on his face and he sent a quick wink.

But that was enough for her to look away. Billy’s heart froze, and he replayed the moment in his head. Had he done something wrong? Was she just nervous? Did she even like him in the slightest?

The idea of her thinking lowly of him struck him with annoyance. Just the thought of her not reciprocating the tornado of attraction he felt for her made his head pound. His smirk faded, but he continued to watch as she swam and relaxed.

Occasionally, she’d glance back at him.

Unlike last time though, she and her friends stayed until closing time. They were just packing up their things as Billy blew the whistle, announcing that is was time to close. Those who were still there were panicking, but the woman and her friends were slow and carefree. She kept glancing his way, and Billy couldn’t help but wonder if this was his in.

He couldn’t stop himself as his feet trotted in her direction. All of her friends turned, and the beautiful woman was the last to do so, a blush rising to her cheeks. They watched and waited as he approached. Billy was on autopilot and his gaze never removed himself from her. 

When he was but a few feet away, he stopped. The women erupted into giggles, all except her. Billy wished she would’ve. He gulped down the residual anxiety. He greeted,” Hey there, ladies. Have a good time?”

“Oh, yes,” one of the nameless friends answered. “Y/n here’s really been enjoying the view.”

Y/n. That was her name. Billy’s eyes flickered back to her, and the woman shrunk away in embarrassment, a small smile creeping to her face. The man felt accomplished. Such a gorgeous woman was as attractive to him as he was to her. Her friends giggled, but he tuned out all of their voices, eyes boring into Y/n.

Y/n was shy. That much was plain, and she knew it. In fact, the handsome lifeguard was the reason she hadn’t been around the pool. Last time, she swore she would’ve drowned herself just for him to save her if her friends hadn’t been taking up the majority of her attention.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Billy slurred, lips upturning.

His bare chest glistened from residual sunscreen as he crossed his arms, eyeing Y/n up and down with an almost predatory gaze. Her friends nudged her forward, and Y/n siloed slowly, her doe eyes meeting his. “A - and what’s your name?”

“Billy Hargrove… Maybe this is being a little too forward uh, but if you aren’t doing anything now, it would be my pleasure to take a pretty little thing like you, Y/n, out to dinner. Maybe Chinese, maybe Enzo’s…”

Billy tried to keep his cool but in all honesty, he didn’t know how he’d react if he was told no. However ,he’d never have to find out, because the gorgeous woman accepted instantly, her face flushed and her friends giggling like elementary school girls. In all honesty, when her and Billy went out that night, too, they hit it off.

And not in the sense that Billy always aimed for. Before he’d met Y/n L/n, he’d rather vomit than get to know a woman. He always tried to get in their pants as quickly as possible, cutting to the chase. It was always the same routine; flowery, gentlemanly compliments, maybe a ghosting brush of their thigh, mentioning how beautiful they were.

And from then on, they were putty in his hands. And Billy preferred it that way. At least until he found himself in a deep conversation with the woman. They were friendly and they had a new type of chemistry. Of course, the physical attraction was there. But, for the first time, Billy’s main focus was getting her to laugh.

Every word that left her mouth, Billy couldn’t help but memorize. Her favorite color. Her family members. The music she listened to. Every word that passed her lips, Billy wanted to hear.

And he never thought that his goals from just wanting a one-night-stand and a woman to bend to his every whim would change. And yet, by the end of that first date it had. Because never had his heart beat so erratically from a kiss on the cheek. And never had he let the word ‘girlfriend’ fall from his lips.

Y/n was head over heels for Billy Hargrove. Something about him was just too good to be true. He had the appearance of a god, from his soft curly hair to strong physique. He was a good conversationalist and frequently flowered her with compliments she often wondered if she deserved. He insisted on being the one to pay for dates and flourish her bedroom with personalized gifts.

She had no complaints. And, as weeks passed, they became months. Billy was the perfect boyfriend. The only issues, though, became more and more prominent as time passed. The focus was always her. And there was always something off and disingenuous about his behavior. It was like he was restraining himself solely to fit her expectations. Plus she barely knew anything about his home life, his family, his previous relationships. All she knew was that he did have a house somewhere in Hawkins.

And, despite how he climbed through her dorm or apartment window every night she’d never been there. He knew he had a sister, but she’d never met her. She knew so many things, but even though Billy had already met the parents upon his request, she wasn’t allowed to meet his.

That is, until one day, he agreed. 

“Yeah, sure, princess. Uh, I’ll just let my mom know and she can whip up some sort of dinner.”

Y/n released an overjoyed gasp, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and bringing him into a warm hug. Unbeknownst to her, Billy’s heart beat erratically in his chest, even after all this time. However, it wasn’t just from being touched by her. It was from nervousness.

The entire time, he’d been putting up a facade. As much as he tried he knew that it was only her that received special treatment. As far as he cared, everyone else in his life was total shit and wasn’t worthy. But Y/n wouldn’t agree with that notion and he knew that. And, if Max was home, he knew he’d have to threaten her to keep quiet about his habits. To convince his girlfriend that he as just as angelic to everyone else.

To Y/n he wasn’t a player. He wasn’t a sex addict. He wasn’t an alcoholic. He wasn’t abusive.

But to everyone else, that’s exactly what he was.

When he came home with the news ,his mom as ecstatic. She took the evening off work just to meet her. Max was just as surprised, almost angry. She thought he was bullshitting. So, Billy made sure to buy her silence. ‘Buy’ as in threaten to crack her skateboard in half if she mentioned anything about how shitty of a guy he was. Max said she couldn’t care less about his personal life, and that was the end of that.

Billy pulled up to Y/n’s building just as she was walking dow the sidewalk toward him. She wore a light dress, something that Billy hoped to tear off later tonight in his bedroom. She had the irreplaceable bounce in her step that was even more attractive, and her expression was so carefree.

Just by seeing her, it was like all the weight of his past slid down his back.

They arrived at his house. Y/n was caught off guard by the fact that it was some shitty trailer. She didn’t mind, but she couldn’t help but feel bad that, even though he lacked in finances, he spent so much money on her. She sent him a reassuring grin and into the house they went.

Y/n heard clamoring from the kitchen. She was quick to check it out, not even taking off her shoes. Standing there, with a pot spilled on the floor, was the mother. She seemed agitated, but the moment she heard people walking in, she seized up in horror.

From behind the woman, Billy’s glare was boring into her. His fists clenched. He couldn’t control himself. “God, woman, you can’t do anything right.”

Y/n blanked in that moment. She’d never heard his voice so deep and cruel almost as though he got off to watching his loved ones fail. Y/n had never seen him even slightly angry, either. The mom apologized profusely, but Y/n went to her side.

“Billy! How could you say that?” Y/n scolded. “It’s nothing. Uh, I’m Y/n L/n! His girlfriend. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

The mother was caught off guard by her sincerity. Her kindness scared the woman. She couldn’t help but wonder if Billy was treating her right, but from how restrained he was - yes, not screaming at the top of his lungs was considered restraint -, he worried he’d trapped her into thinking he was a good man.

Yes, Billy was her son. She loved him unconditionally. But it didn’t take much to put two and two together to realize he was a stark replica of the man she married.

Because of the mishap, dinner didn’t start until seven. Billy was primarily dead silent while the two women chattered and got to know each other. The more mom learned about Y/n, the more she saw herself in her. And the more she realized it was like Billy copy and pasted her relationship with her ex-husband. It was only a matter of time before things went down the drain.

“…I’m actually studying —“

Y/n was interrupted by the slamming of the front door. In came a teenage girl, no more than sixteen. She had bright red hair and a few scratches on her cheeks. She wore rather ripped up clothes, but judging from the skateboard tucked under her armpit, all the bruises and scratches meant that she’d stumbled and fallen off.

“Max, dear, I’m so glad you made it back in time!” mom chirped almost in relief. “Why don’t you join us?”

Max, while kicking off her shoes, didn’t make any eye contact. “No thanks.”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, and Billy noticed. Y/n also noticed how stiff the household was. How, even if the mother was a doll and Max was too young, the house had a lingering stench of beer. How tense the family was, and it was seemingly because of Billy’s presence. She was starting to wonder if Billy Hargrove really was too good to be true.

Billy clasped his hands together and a smile that almost looked like a sneer stretched across his cheeks. “Max, I’d like it if you met my girlfriend. It would mean a lot if you, my cute little sister, got along with this sweet gem of mine, huh?”

Max seized up, and Y/n could see that she didn’t want to be here. Suspicion wracked her body and she didn’t want to, but she was starting to put two and two together. Neither his mother or his sister enjoyed Billy’s presence, and that worried her to no end. She was growing nervous with each awkward glance they sent the man.

“Uh, sure,” Max reluctantly agreed. There was a deafening silence that fell over as Max sat down at the table, casting her gaze away to her plate and nothing else. And that’s when Y/n noticed. From beside her, Billy was glaring venomously into both Max and his mother. And both were trembling. Not wildly, but enough that it was so very noticeable.

“U - um, it’s nice to meet you, Max. Billy, here, barely tells me anything. I hope we can become friends,” Y/n kindly offered, sending her a strained smile.

Max looked up, a sympathetic smile bracing her face. Y/n’s heart had yet to slow because there was something terrifying about the environment. No, not the environment, but about Billy. “Y - yeah… You know, uh, Billy’s never had a girlfriend before, so… it’s pretty surprising.”

“Oh! That surprises me, really,” Y/n tittered, glancing anxiously at the man. Billy sent her a quick grin, but there was something disingenuous about it. “He’s such a charmer, after all…”

“Thanks, babe,” Billy hummed, exchanging glances between his two family members. “I’m just that head over heels for ya, huh?”

Max suddenly snickered, and there was a fire in her eyes. “Are you kidding? You’ve got to be shitting me —“

“Max, please,” her mother pleaded, only to be cut off again.

Max, having seemingly lost her temper, rose to her feet and slammed her fists into the table. “No! This asshole’s pretty much brainwashed her into thinking he’s a good guy. Right, Billy? Y/n, I don’t know what you think he’s like, but he literally brings a chic over every weekend for a good time. He drinks like crazy. He’s a total dick —“

“You fucking bitch!” Billy roared, his entire expression morphing into a dangerous fury. One fist slammed into the table and the other snatched up his plate that was still covered in food and threw it at the young girl. Y/n couldn’t help but scream in horror, and Max was thrown into the wall behind her. The mother screamed in horror, falling back in her seat and rushing over the child.

Just like that, Y/n knew the truth about Billy Hargrove. He was too good to be true. He was an awful, terrible man, and Yn felt ashamed for falling for the facade. Chaos had opened up in the household, and everyone was horrified. Billy had lost his temper completely, revealing his true self to the woman he was in love with. But he was too angry to realize he fucked things up.

Max was bleeding and some shards of glass were poking from her skin. She was sobbing loudly while the mother was clutching her to her chest. Y/n pushed her seat away as Billy threw his chair back. Only as Y/n stood did Billy’s glare shift to her.

And that’s when he realized. His anger faded into vague regret, and he reached out to her. Y/n screamed again, although not as gut-wrenching as before. She tripped on her foot and fell to the ground. Billy stalked over to her and leaned down.

“Princess, this isn’t what you think it is,” he seethed, offering her a hand. “I just think we should head out —“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Y/n shrieked, kicking him in the groin. 

Billy yelped and ended up leaning back on the table clutching at his would. Just like that, all the anger returned, more fiery than before. Y/n stumbled to her feet and crawled over to the mother and daughter. Both of them were sobbing, almost as though they expected this would happen. Y/n felt terrible for not picking up on the signs sooner.

But Billy did a good job at hiding them, and Y/n knew it was hardly her fault Billy Hargrove was a terrible person. The mother, with wide eyes, turned to Y/n. She shakily cried,” Call the police. Please, dear! Max, my sweet baby s - she’s bleeding too much —“ She broke down into more sobs, and Y/n knew that was what was right.

“You pathetic whore,” Billy hissed. “You never give a shit, but now that there’s a nice little guest to impress, you give a shit? God, I never should’ve let you meet her. All of you are fucking ridiculous! Y/n get your ass off the floor. Right. Fucking. Now!”

She didn’t even get the chance to do anything. A screech escaped her lips as she was yanked up by her collar and dragged across the floor. Sobs escaped and she clawed at her neck and Billy’s rough, callous hands. She was pulled even further away, out into the hallway. Before she could try and writhe free, Billy suddenly threw her body into the wall.

Her neck and back were positioned awkwardly and before she could even adjust herself, a foot slammed into her stomach. A cry escaped her lips as Billy loomed over. She pawed at his foot, but it was hardly able to do much against the seething man.

She thought he’d hurt her more. And yet, as he towered over her small form, the anger seemed to fade and his expression became more and more distressed. His frown deepened and he looked so very hurt, even if he was the perpetrator. He began trembling and removed his foot, just long enough for Y/n to curl up into a ball on her side, bawling her eyes out.

Billy, realizing how badly he fucked everything up, collapsed on his knees beside her. “Fuck! Y/n, baby, princess. I’m so sorry. I - I didn’t mean to, I swear! It’s just a heat of the moment thing, and - and my family is just a bunch of fucking pussies who need to be put in their places —“

“Y - you’re a monster!” Y/n hiccuped, pushing Billy away limply.

Billy’s heart shattered into a hundred pieces on the spot. He peered over his shoulder, only to realize that Max’s bloody body had slumped onto the floor, barely visible, and his mother was nowhere in sight. He gulped, hearing his mother’s distant, pleading voice. Things had gone so terribly wrong. But, as he looked back at the traumatized love of his life, he bit the inside of his cheek.

He wasn’t going to let his family get in between him and Y/n. He just couldn’t. After such a horrible childhood, an unloved life, he couldn’t just her leave him. Billy knew he had to change, and he had. For her. Because Y/n was worthy of being treated like the royalty she was. She just didn’t understand that he wasn’t a bad guy. He loved her with ever fibre of his being.

“Fuck… Y/n, we need to go. Okay, babe? Th - these assholes keep trying to get between us. I won’t let them. We can move cross country for all I fucking care. I love you, princess, okay? We need to leave —“

Billy fell silent when he heard heard a quiet, pained squeak from Y/n. Billy instantly cupped her cheeks, shaking her head. She looked like was going to faint from fright at any moment, and her breaths were labored as his. He swiped her cheeks lovingly, eyes flitting over her entire body.

“I - I…”

“Yes, baby? It’s okay, everything’s okay. What is it?”

“I hate you.”

Billy’s brain blanked. He hadn’t been expecting that. One part of him was writhing in agony. He wanted to die right on the spot. But the other part of him, which completely overpowered anything sympathetic and understanding within him, was consumed with rage. His jaw clenched. His grip on her face became painfully so and only when Y/n released a yelp of pain, did he realize what he was doing. 

He grit his teeth and stood abruptly. All he saw was red. It was his fucking sister’s fault. If she just kept her dirty whore mouth shut, he knew things had gone smoothly. Tonight would’ve been the night where Billy could’ve abandoned his own ways. He could’ve committed completely to Y/n, because she could’ve been - no, she was - his everything.

He just needed something a little extra to satiate his sexual whims. But, instead, things had gone so terribly wrong. It was his fucking family’s fault. He should’ve known it was a bad idea. But when Y/n keeps begging with those gorgeous doe eyes of her’s… he melted.

He turned. He could hear his mother screeching to the police on the phone, and he knew what he had to do. His shitty whore mother left him without any choices. He dashed across the trailer until he located his small bedroom. Y/n was confused as to what he was doing but she more than glad to be away from his presence.

She was scared. So very scared. The front door was right there and she could run for help. But she’d feel so terrible if she abandoned the family of two. Max was unconscious on the floor and she hoped it was because she just fainted from fright and not from the wounds. The house was a mess. However, she knew that at least the police were on their way.

She used the wall for support as she dragged herself off the ground. She wasn’t nearly as battered and bruised as the others, but the mental agony of it all was enough to make it hard to walk. She limped over to the kitchen, only to find the mother scouring the kitchen until she found a first aid kit. Y/n collapsed in front of the young girl and pulled her onto her lap, swiping the food-covered hair out of her face.

“Max,” Y/n whispered, barely audible. A few of her tears plopped onto the girl beneath her, and she wiped the away out of embarrassment. 

The mother fell the ground beside her. She opened the kit and began grabbing cotton balls and dousing them with alcohol. Y/n watched warily, almost having forgotten that Billy existed in the first place. She couldn’t help but wonder if he made a run for his life, knowing he’d get arrested.

However, all that changed when she heard the cock of a gun. Y/n and her froze, eyes slowly drifting up.

Standing by the front door aggressively was Billy. He was completely unhinged with fury. He had his trembling hand on the trigger. His glare was deadly. And the gun in particular was pointed at his poor, lovely mother. His glare was solely remaining on her.

“Billy, please,” his mother choked. “Just drop —“

The gunshot echoed in the small household. Blood splattered and a bullet lodged into the woman’s head. A scream bubbled in Y/n’s throat but didn’t release. She could barely see and her ears echoed and rang loudly. Beside her, the woman collapsed her body hitting the leg of the table. The life drained instantly, leaving Y/n sat beside a corpse while an unconscious child was in her lap.

And she feared that she was next.

Suddenly, a harsh arm grabbed her shoulder. The scream finally escaped, and although she couldn’t see properly, she knew was was happening. Billy had grabbed her, violently so, and was pulling her across the floor once more. Y/n’s legs didn’t work. It was like her bod had shut down completely.

“Stand the fuck up, Y/n,” Billy hissed. “We’re leaving. Do you understand? We ned to go, okay? Cooperate or I’ll kill that bitch, too! So stand the fuck up!”

Y/n finally released a sob. She could barely see, but she forced herself to stand. Billy immediately caged her in his arms, and although once upon a time, the hug would’ve been warm and loving, the cold gun digging into her back was a sore reminder of the reality she was in. Y/n’s head fell into the crook of her neck, and she released sob sobs. Her entire body ached with pain.

Billy’s anger seemed to dissipate. The hand that held the gun reached for her hair trailed it down the back of her hair and some hushes released. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe. We can be happy now. We don’t need anyone else. All you need is me, princess, and all I need is you, okay?”

“B - Billy, stop,” Y/n sobbed. “I hate you.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that, princess. Thing’s’ll be good for us now. I promise. Look at me.”

He pushed Y/n’s head away cupping her cheek. Her body was so limp. His azure eyes sparkled in joy as he looked over the woman, his heart beating happily. He still gripped the gun tightly and it pressed against the side of her head. There was a sleazy smirk that pulled against his features that Y/n once would’ve called handsome.

But, as everyone knows, the devil is a gentleman. And Y/n was certain she was staring at him right in the face.

Billy was quick to drizzle butterfly kissed along her jaw. It was soft, and yet there was an unbridled passion laying hidden beneath the surface. Y/n shut her eyes tightly, wishing nothing but for everything to stop. She hurt so badly. It all did. 

And then, his actions ceased. In the distance, sirens played. Billy heard them. And, as he pulled away and examined Y/n’s expression, the reality of the situation snuck in. He was either dead or fucked. The police were there. And he couldn’t make his escape if Y/n would be so unwilling to leave with him.

She hated him.

But he loved her with every fibre of his being.

“I love you,” he muttered genuinely.

Billy nuzzled his nose against her one last time before pressing a kiss to her lips. It was urgent. Needy. And Y/n realized it was his way of saying good-bye. Perhaps he would leave her and run. Or perhaps he would kill her. Or perhaps…

The sirens were right outside. Billy pulled away. The moment he took a step back, Y/n’s legs became jelly and she crumbled to the ground. However, she didn’t pass out. She watched adamantly, vision clearing just enough to watch Billy’s panicked movements. 

Billy looked so stern and serious. He was resigning himself to what would happen if he lived. Or not. And, as he cocked the gun again, he but glanced at the love of his life.

Shakily, he raised the gun to the side of his head. 

It hurt him. She looked so broken and sad. And yet, so beautiful. He was certain he was in love with her the moment he first laid eyes on her. How could he not? Her doe eyes, crying or not, were stunning. So was her quiet giggles. So was the way she nuzzled against him when they cuddled each night. She was the vision of perfection. An angel.

And he was just some shitbag that was living in an undeserved paradise.

The guilt hit him all at once. He watched, though, as Y/n reached limply in his direction. However, she hardly tried. There was banging sounding from the front door, and people were shouting. It was about to burst down. And it was Billy’s last chance to do what was right.

At least he could die happy, looking at the most perfect woman in the world.

And, as the front door burst down, he pulled the trigger.

[berry-loves-yandere]

Saccharine pt.2

Yandere Stranger Things characters with an overly sweet darling headcanons:

Characters: Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Billy Hargrove, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behaviours, possessive behaviours, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationships, delusional characters, manipulation, bullying, drug mention

Steve Harrington:

❤️  He would probably ask his darling out on a date once he notices their sweet attitude

❤️ Even if they don’t end up dating Steve acts as if they are

❤️ Would tell people they’re dating to keep them away from his darling

❤️ He’d always be super nice to his darling as well and do things that friends and couples do

❤️ Would be extremely touchy and clingy

❤️ Over-protective crossing into possessive behaviour

❤️ Since his darling is kind to everyone, including people who are rude to them or hurt them, Steve envisions himself as a knight in shining armour saving his darling

❤️ If his darling is uncomfortable around Steve, they’re so nice that they’d never bring it forward to anyone and Steve takes advantage of that

❤️ In his desperation to protect his darling, he would probably kidnap them

❤️ Even after kidnapping his darling, he would never be cruel to them and shower them with love and affection

Nancy Wheeler:

📝  Would become good friends with her darling due to her enjoying their kind nature

📝 After her break up with Steve and all of the crazy stuff happening in Hawkins that she’s involved in, she’d probably find comfort in her sweet and caring darling who has a normal life

📝 (If darling was male) She would only date Jonathan if her darling was dating someone else at the time

📝 (If darling is female or other) She would date Jonathan because dating her darling wouldn’t be socially acceptable

📝 When she dates Jonathan, all she can imagine is her darling and how her darling would act on dates 

📝 Would sometimes slip up and almost call Jonathan by her darling’s name

📝 After the July 4th incident, she would check to see if her darling was one of the people who got added to the Mind Flayer’s physical form

📝 Once the Byers + Eleven move to Lenora, Nancy becomes a bit more clingy with her darling

📝 She would likely begin to try to manipulate her darling into having feelings for her

📝 After the events of season 4, she makes sure her darling isn’t injured in any way, shape or form

📝 When Jonathan returns, she pretends to be happy but is actually pissed off since he would be slowing or stopping her plans to finally confess to her darling

Jonathan Byers:

📸  First meeting would most likely be his darling felt bad seeing Jonathan by himself all the time and assigned themselves to be his friend

📸 His darling would offer to help put up posters for Will when he went missing which definitely warmed Jonathan’s heart

📸  During the entire duration of Will’s disappearance and death, Jonathan’s darling would probably be similar to an emotional support animal for him

📸  Eventually when Jonathan and Nancy start dating, he isn’t yet sure of his feelings for his darling but they’re solidified when he sees his darling kissing someone who isn’t him

📸 Throughout his relationship with Nancy, he would picture his darling in her place 

📸 He’d stalk and take pictures of his darling without them knowing

📸 If they had a movie night and his darling fell asleep, he would sneak off to grab his camera and start taking pictures of their sleeping body

📸 When he moves to Lenora with his family, he would call his darling every day

📸 Would beg  request his darling to fly over to Lenora to visit him during summer vacation or winter break or spring break, knowing that his darling is too nice to decline

📸 If he’s ever stoned around his darling, he’d accidentally confessed his true feelings for them which causes some tension that Jonathan ignores 

📸 Even if his darling is uncomfortable around Jonathan, they’re so nice that they’d never bring it forward to anyone and Jonathan takes advantage of that

Billy Hargrove:

🚬 Definitely irritated by their sweet nature at first since they’d always be doing things like helping people with homework or handing out cookies and Billy takes that as sympathy, which he despises

🚬 If his darling begins giving him more attention than others, he’ll be pissed since he’ll think that his darling considers him weak

🚬 Would probably bully his darling for a while until their sweet personality grows on him

🚬 He’d then have others beat up his darling and he’d pretend to be a knight in shining armour then help patch them up afterwards

🚬 He has love-hate feelings for his darling since he despises sympathy but adores his darling’s care

🚬  After fights with his father, he’d probably go to his darling, wanting to be patched up, which his darling would do without hesitation 

🚬 After a while, he’d love their kindness and crave their affection

🚬 But Billy would also be very jealous since his darling shows kindness to everyone, including people he deems unworthy of it

🚬 Billy would totally kidnap his darling using chloroform when his jealousy reacts it’s peak level

🚬 He would try not to be like his father but might actually hurt his darling during a fit of rage

Robin Buckley:

🎺 Robin would instantly be head over heels for a super sweet darling

🎺 Her darling would definitely listen as Robin would ramble about different subjects, which Robin adores

🎺 They’re probably in band together and Robin’s darling would visit Robin at Scoops Ahoy

🎺 Robin also listens intently to everything her darling would say

🎺 She probably has Steve try to help her figure out if her darling is sapphic or not

🎺 After the whole July 4th incident and Robin and Steve getting new jobs at Family Video, Robin and her darling’s friendship improves since they can spend more time together without Robin having to go somewhere to attend to a customer

🎺 Would accidentally confess her feelings to her darling in a ramble

Eddie Munson:

🎸 Very shocked at first since everyone considers him and his friends ‘freaks’

🎸 Would adore the kind attention they give him and even though he would never admit it, it’s extremely obvious

🎸 He would melt at their compliments about his guitar skills or the campaign he’s writing

🎸 He’d be super clingy and try to always have his darling around him

🎸 Eddie would love having his darling listen to him as he rambles about Metallica or other metal bands

🎸 Eddie would have his darling watch his band ‘Corroded Coffin’ practice since he knew they’d give supportive and sweet feedback

🎸 Would give his darling a ticket to every gig that Corroded Coffin has

🎸 He would do things that could be considered platonic or romantic, like wrapping an arm around his darling’s shoulders or holding their hand

🎸 If he did get really jealous, he’d probably drug and kidnap his darling

[tht0nesimp]

yan billy hargrove very possessive of yn like very possessive…

yn goes out with friends and when yn returns home billy is in yn’s room waiting in the dark and pretty much gets yn in trouble and punishes yn and maybe some smut?

TW: smut, violence, non(dub?)con, stepcest if you squint, partying, crying, degradation,

You climbed into the window, stumbling in the dark area stepping on things in your woozy state

It was the most fun you had since billy started not letting you go out to parties without him, he made you leave early not like you really had anyone else at the parties after your friend had disappeared not too long ago

You were surprised to find billy sitting at your desk with handcuffs along with a six pack of beer, he offers you one which you find strange but take one as to not anger the man further you take a sip but notice a small, barely detectable, difference

"hmm.." you akwardly smile at him but, you dont?, your lips dont seem to work and neither do your previously standing legs that had fallen down and leaned out to fall on your bed

"wh-wa-" you couldnt even talk but billy quickly occupied your mouth with his tougue that seemed to reach all the way down your throat and into your very lungs

It wasnt long before he was inside of your gummy walls, doing everything that you never could have dreamed of experiencing before this experience

"billy, F-FUCK" billy grunts quietly "fucked you so good your vocie came back?" you nod rapidly and feel yourself tightening around him, you were both nearing the breaking point albeit yours was for the third time this evening

"damn, milking me? must love this" you shake your head but are interuppted by your insides being thrusted into one last time as he bit his lip to silence himself "da-damn" he pulls out and you turn over onto your side and feel the drowsiness in your now tired and fucked out body

"go to sleep, but just to let you know"

"your mine now, darling"

[aspectabund007x]

"𝙑𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙩"- Mind Flayed! Yandere Billy Hargrove x reader

SYNOPSIS: Billy thought the world only contained violence and hatred, but then he met you...

WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, and maybe angst (?)

Billy had a reputation for being an asshole. But deep down, there was a little boy who loved to surf, who would brag to his Mother how far he went within the waves of water, filled by the echoes of seagulls. 

The woman loved him, and he did too, so damn much. She supported his love for the beach, but she couldn’t take it anymore, the abuse had gotten to her. So she had no choice but to leave. Leaving her dear son behind, for his abusive Father won full custody of him.

Little Billy was broken. Not too long after, Neil had remarried. Shoving his newlywed wife and stepdaughter down the boy’s throat, forcing him to accept his cruel fate.

The abuse tarnished the joy that was once inside of him, his resentment turning him into a vile brute. One that was so hurt from within.

He took his anger out on his younger stepsister, yet cared for her in his own sick way.

Then came 1984, when he and his ‘new family had to move to Hawkins Indiana, and he hated every second of it. He mourned the sunny days in California.

He changed a lot since then; always felt the need to be the center of attention; maintaining his appearance, and charming aura.

Steve Harrington matched with these as well, and that did not go unnoticed by Billy. Therefore, he had a target, an obstacle…

But everything changed once he laid his eyes on you. Fuck, you were so beautiful. Up until then, he thought the whole "love at first sight" scenario was bullshit. 

You had an endearing charisma, and that hit his sore spot. Because the last person he knew was like that was his Mother.

She would've loved you...

Some people hated him, others thirsted. But you had a much different perspective. You were aware of his home life, and he was the way he was because his Father’s emotional and physical abuse influenced him to be that way. Your heart softened at the fact he was once innocent before he became so violent.

Anytime there would be wounds evident on him, you’d tend to them, cooing comforting words as he hissed in agony. And the shocking part was that he didn’t stop you. Hell, he thought people showing sympathy to him was pity in disguise, and pity made him feel like a weakling. But you were an exception because you were something else.

Soon enough, the two of you formed a bond, the more you hung out, the harder Billy fell for you. Even the littlest of affection from you showed him that there genuinely was good in the world.

Before, the only bits of happiness he had were his Mother’s distant cheering. But now, you made it whole.

He opened up to you about his long-lost hobby, surfing. You recalled how the smile he had on his face was sincere for the very first time. How he laughed when he mentioned how his Mother used to get scared about how far he’d go. This made you determined to bring out the better in him.

Your cheeky smile, melodious laugh, he fucking loved it.

Alas, it all had to come to an end. For the malevolent entity corrupted his mind, erasing the humanity in him.

Billy now loathed being in the public, and the sun became his worst enemy. 

The mind flayer, too, became intrigued by you.

“I want you to build” “I want you to claim” 

So he did what he had to do, claim. 

After abducting you, he held you captive in a dark, rusty basement. Making it as homely as possible. 

Looking down at you, he placed a wet kiss on your forehead. When he first came to Hawkins, he thought there was no good in it. But it was worth it; the sacrifice of leaving his home behind. Because he had to meet his future, and indeed he did.

He wanted to marry you, and start a family. He had different ambitions than before.

Maybe life wasn’t so bad after all…

[lovelywongie]

Yanderes that would praise you for learning:

Joyce, Will, Max

Yanderes that would say that you don't need to do that cuz you are with them:

Billy, Eddie, Steve, Robin

[lena-scribbles]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ! ʙɪʟʟʏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴏᴠᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ)

PART ONE:

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A/N: Okaay, another part of our beloved yandere! Billy! I decided that with every part, Billy's obsession will be more and more out of control and that he'll finally "snap". I don't know how mamy parts it will take tho.

So, uh, yeah!

Hope you like it, also you can check out my Wattpad here:

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Lena_scribbles

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Thank you for coming by. Um... Drink water, love ya, sugar!✨💖

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S/C- Skin Color

H/C- Hair Color

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Listen here, whatever you're doing to him- stop it. Or maybe he has to stop you himself?

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Months passed after your small talk before school and ever since that happened his mind was focused on you only. He wakes up? Wonder if you're still sleeping. Eats breakfast? Wonder how would it be to eat with you, best with you sitting on his lap though. Driving to drop Max off to school? Shit, almost another cat driven over... He should be more focused. But he just can't! Your face, voice... Hell, even your fucking smell won't leave his mind alone. And you're not even here! He dearly hates that his mind is willing to think only about you. How can you have that much power over him?

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"That brat better hurry up..." Huffed unpatiently Billy putting his second ciggarette away from his lips. He was waiting for Max in front of the Arcade... Again. Like he didn't have any better plans.

Looking through his car window he saw nothing important. Kids running aroud, some walking in and out od nearby stores, cars driving...

"Y/N! Hurry up!" Y/N? His blue eyes immadietly searched for your figure, finding it on the other side of the road trotting behind a group of people around your age. His chest and breath heavied, heart started beating faster- he hated and loved it all. What were you doing to him?

"Guys wait!" You yelled after them. Oh how sweetly you yelled, he would love to hear it elsewhere... Wait, what? What the fuck was that thought? He didn't even know you. Billy shaked his head and continued to look at you. When you caught up to your "friends", you and the rest of the small group were coming closer to his car, directly to the glass doors of the Arcade salon in front of his car. Suddenly when you came closer your stares locked.

"How nice, Y/N noticed me... but they seem so startled... Cute." Billy thought and shot you a pearly smile, nodding his head upside. You awkwardly and quickly tip-toed to the rest of your group, dissappearing within them.

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Billy stepped out of his car and stomped on his slowly burning out ciggarette. After locking his car, he took a decisive step towards the entrance of the Arcade.

Smell of candies and heavy crowdy air made it's way up to Billy's nose. Honestly, ha hated places like these. Lots of younger kids running around, each of them making people, who were holding sodas stumble and almost trip over the edge of folded carpet.

His peace didn't last a second until someone bumped into him. Billy didn't even get a second to grab that brat and "nicely" remind him his place as they speeded away soon after.

Annoyed, he huffed, showed his hands in pockets and slowly made his way deeper into the loud, crowded area trying to find you. Though it wasn't that easy, as dark surrounded every corner- only led and game machines lights gave him some sort of acknowledgement of his surroundings.

After some time of looking around, he found your so called friends, cheering loudly for one of them, but... You weren't there. Billy stopped, his gaze slowly turning from right to left, until it stopped on one arcade game machine, which was standing alone in the corner, a little deeper than the rest. There was someone playing.

Billy slowly came closer and saw your face. Light coming from the monitor gave your S/C and H/C locks a blue-isch hue. You were like in a trance, eyes focused deeply on the game.

BUMP!

His hand slapped on the side of the machine you were playing on. Startled you jumped a little, immadietly losing focus on the game, which gave you a "Game Over" in response.

"Bill!" You said, still a little stunned. "It's Billy, hun." He winked, pushing his left arm on one side of the game machine, looking at you with his piercing blue eyes.

"What do you want?" You asked. "Woah, woah, woah, why so rude?" He put his hands defensively in front of him and chuckled.

"You forgot to smile back." Billy moved closer. "...what?" You said dumbfounded, backing away. "You.forgot.to.smile.back." Syllabled getting a little upset. "Didn't your mommy teach you how to greet others properly?" Asked older male.

Without warning Billy pinned you to the wall in the dark corner of the room. You were immersed in his shadow, only light coming from behind Billy's back, illuminating various vivid colors. With heavy breath he asked again "Does daddy have to teach you, darling?"

Your fist collided with his nose, easily pushing him away from you. He stumbled a little and leaned on a nearby game machine.

"What is wrong with you?!" You yelled and as quickly as you could stormed off to the exit.

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Billy still stood there, with blood dripping down his chin, flowing by the sadistic looking smirk.

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Waaaah, Billy is getting to like you more... I wouldn't be too happy about it tho.

[sadgothyanderefan]

Yandere Billy Hargrove Alphabet

CONTENT WARNING: This has mentions of sexual assault on letter F.

LOL I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS BEFORE I FINISHED IT

Abduction, would they abduct their love interest if so when, why, and how? No but not because he has an issue with the morals of it but more to do with the fact that he doesn’t have the resources to keep you hidden long term and hide evidence.

Birth, when did their obsession start? Honestly, the moment you started peaking his interest. Of course it wasn’t all at once it built up over time, but once he started thinking about you period, he started thinking about you obsessively.

Crush, what would they do/feel if their love interest had a crush on someone else? He’s very competitive so he’d probably lose his shit he be mad at the other person and he’d definitely be mad at you

Definitely, what is something they almost certainly would do? Sometimes he’d just randomly show up in your bedroom, at your shift at work, and even class. He has zero respect for your space.

Envy, do they get envious of relationships their love interests have with others? He’s very jealous, you simply mentioning other people angers him. He’s obsessed with the idea of being the only person you touch, you talk to, you think about.

Force, would they force their love interest to do anything if so what? He has zero shame. He would pressure and sometimes outright force you to have sex with him if/when you were dating.

Guilt, do they regret any of their actions? If so, what actions? No.

Hidden, do they hide their feelings if so from who? Billy is very blunt. Once he realizes he’s attracted to you he would flirt to downright harass you into dating him.

Isolate, do they manipulate their love interest? Yes, he tries to convince you that you have no reason to have any relationship of any sort with anyone else.

Justice, how would they react if their love interest was being bullied and/or abused? He would use it as leverage against you when manipulating.

Kill, would they ever kill someone if so who and why? He nearly killed Steve canonically so yes.

Lucidity, do they know their feelings/behaviors are unhealthy if so does that stop them? He doesn’t know nor does he care.

Motivation, what is their motivation for their actions? Having you fully rely on him for support in any capacity and not having relationships with other people.

Never, what is a hard core limit? Killing you, other people are not as fortunate.

Often, what are some things they often do with/to their love interest? You do normal couple stuff like go to the movies and stuff but an even bigger amount of your time is spent in his car while he rants about things and people he hates.

Propitorial, do they get proprietorial/possessive of their love interest often? Have you read any of this? Of course yes.

Qualm, how would they feel if their love interest was scared of them? Depends on the situation and his mood which is often unstable.

Reason, what are the reasons behind their obsessive behavior/feelings? Parental abuse mostly as it’s one of the core reasons for his canon behavior.

Share, this is for various x reader fanfiction but would they “share” their love interest? No.

Trust, do they build a relationship with their love interest? Once he takes interest in you he’ll go from flirting to downright harassing you into dating him.

Unmistakable do others take notice of their obsessive behavior? Yes and most are not shocked due to his bad reputation.

Violence, do they act violently towards their love interest? Yes.

Waspish, do they often show hostility towards their love interest and/or others? Yes.

X, What is a random headcanon you have for this character as a yandere that wouldn’t be on this list? He very rarely if ever uses weapons when attacking people simply beating them to death which I think is more scary.

You, what does this character go after in a S/O? I have zero idea what to put here comment if you have any ideas.

Zealous, how passionate are their feelings compared to other yandere's? Oh god he’s so much worse than other yandere’s in the Stranger Things universe.

[famwhy]

Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?" 

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago. 

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on. 

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?" 

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!" 

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase... 

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall. 

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground. 

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?" 

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?" 

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?" 

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez." 

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys." 

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Sad Story

Pairing: Dark Billy Hargrove x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: You and Billy have a fight but he knows exactly the right cards to play to make you come back to him. 

WARNINGS: Emotional Manipulation; Toxic Relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

A knock on your window makes you jump on the bed. Who the hell knocks on windows in the middle of the night? 

Slowly approaching the window, you can’t see anything from outside with the curtain until  you hear Billy’s voice, pleading with you to open the window. 

“C’mon, baby. I just want to make things right, okay? I want to apologize.” he sounds truthful but you hesitate for a moment, biting your lip.

Earlier you got into an argument with him, all over the fact that he was too possessive of you. You don't appreciate being treated like an object but Billy struggled to understand that and it made things worse.

He yelled awful things, claiming you’re his possession and nothing else. That made you upset enough to skip school in order to avoid seeing him. 

“I don’t want to talk. Just go home, Billy.” you exclaim. taking a peek at the window. 

“I’m not leaving until we talk this through. So, you either let me up or I’m staying here all night.” you almost groan in annoyance, but you remember to keep quiet as your parents are sleeping.

You take a peek at the window and notice how Billy is precariously hanging on the window so you immediately open the window, afraid of him falling down. 

“Gosh, took you long enough, babe.” he climbs over the window, crashing into the room with a loud noise and you take a finger to your lips, indicating him to be silent. 

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I love you, okay? So, don’t be mad at me.” he whispers. You both share an awkward look as you’re still resentful of his actions.

You cross your arms in front of your chest, looking at him with a blank face and for a moment, his eyes flash with anger but it’s gone the very next moment. He mindlessly rubs a hand into his hair, biting his lip. 

“I guess I went overboard with it. I was just…afraid, you know? That you’d abandon me, like my mom did.” he looks to the ground as he says those words, his eyes shining with tears and you feel like you’ve been punched on the face.

You almost forgot about his bad childhood and all the problems he has with his dad. How he was abandoned by his mom. 

You throw yourself into Billy’s arms, kissing him on the cheek. 

“Oh, Billy. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I swear I won’t leave you, I was just upset but I’d never abandon you, I promise.” you declare, all of your previous irritation evaporated. 

What you don’t see is Billy’s smirk, satisfied that his sob story managed to make you go back to him. 

[lostgirlsinofgluttony]

Yan! Billy Hargrove

Making his darling spend all her time depending on him and only talking to him. Has beat any guy who looks in your general direction. Will do anything to show his dominance and claim on you. Going out with friends is not a thing cause you have no friends because of him. Will show up at your house at 3 am just to make sure your not cheating on him.

[aphr0d1t3s-p3ach3s]

I’ve recently gotten a shit ton of inspiration and I’m thinking of making a little mini series that’s around 6-7 chapters long with around 8,000-11,000 words per chapter. It’s a horror, dark romance with unhealthy relationships and such.

The only problem is that it’s gonna be a Billy Hargrove x OC fanfic. I’ve recently been looking around and the fandom surrounding that genre has really died. So I’m just wondering if anybody would find it at all appealing?

As much as I’d like to be one of those people who write because they want to. I do very heavily rely on positive feedback and I wouldn’t want to write a 70,000 word series just for nobody to read it lol.

this is probs gonna go nowhere and no one’s gonna say anything but I thought I’d give it a shot any way 🤷‍♀️

[berry-loves-yandere]

can you please do one with Stranger Things hc with an sweet autistic darling, like how do they handle certain situations and also when their darling have a huge meltdown

love ur fics btw❤

Sure!

(Nancy will not be included on this list because she already has a separate headcanon bit for this)

Yandere Stranger things with a sweet autistic darling:

Characters: Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Eleven (Jane) Hopper, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Billy Hargrove, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver, Gareth Emerson, Jim Hopper, Joyce Byers, Henry Creel/Peter Ballard/001

Warnings: Manipulation, obsessive behaviours, possessive behaviours, violence, unhealthy mindset, Billy and 001 are assholes (just ike in canon) DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Mike Wheeler:

He'd definitely try his best to understand why his darling does certain things.

Or why they can't stand certain smells, fabrics, etc.

If his darling has very bad sensory issues, he'll do his best to make sure they're always comfortable since they're always sweet to him.

If his darling is having a meltdown in private, he's doing his best to comfort them and make sure they're okay but in public?

He'd pretend he didn't know his darling his he doesn't want to be embarrassed by them.

He'd apologize afterwards but he's not at all sorry.

Will Byers:

This man is so attentive and caring when it comes to his darling.

If they have sensory issues, specifically with a certain fabric?

He'd replace all his clothes that are made of that fabric to one that his darling likes.

If his darling is having a meltdown he'd immediately try to help sooth them, it doesn't matter if it's in public or private.

Eleven (Jane) Hopper:

She's in the same boat as her darling, they'd both be trying to help each in every situation, especially meltdowns.

Lucas Sinclair:

Lucas would very nice and helpful but because of the basketball team and his popularity on the line, he may not always help his darling when they're having a public meltdown.

Would always help in private tho.

Eventually wouldn't care about popularity just to be there for his darling.

Max Mayfield:

She was very kind and helpful with Eleven, so I assume she'd be the same with her darling.

With sensory issues she'd try her best to make her darling comfortable but there's only so much she can do.

When her darling has a meltdown, Max would sooth and coax her darling into being calm again.

Steve Harrington:

Is extremely careful, basically walking on eggshells around his darling, especially if they have very bad sensory issues.

When his darling has meltdowns, he does his best to calm them down.

Jonathan Byers:

He'd do basically the same thing as Will, except he'd also buy his darling anything they have a hyper fixation with.

Billy Hargrove:

Honestly, he'd call his darling all kinds of slurs.

Would only hug them when he's wearing fabric that his darling can't stand.

When his darling has a meltdown, he'd yell at them to stop crying or laugh at them.

Robin Buckley:

She's also autistic, so they'd both be helping each other out.

Eddie Munson:

Eddie would treat his darling like how he treats everyone else.

This can be good and bad but it's more neutral than anything.

No special accommodations but no judgement either.

Chrissy Cunningham:

The biggest sweetheart who would undoubtedly help in every way she can.

Always wants her darling to be happy and not uncomfortable.

Jason Carver:

Very gentle and sweet, threatens anyone who makes fun of his darling.

When his darling has a meltdown, he'd carefully sooth them.

If anyone mocks his darling's breakdown(s), they'd instantly get a punch to the nose.

Boy or girl, it's doesn't matter to him, he just wants his darling to be as happy as possible.

He'd also buy them absolutely anything he could that his darling is hyper fixated on.

Gareth Emerson:

Super sweet, probably has some sensory issues of his own, so he knows how to deal with them and help his darling with theirs.

When his darling has a meltdown, he'll try to distract them from what got them so upset then sooth them.

Jim Hopper:

He's already a very caring soul despite his 'tough guy' exterior but he'd be extra sweet to his darling.

Buys them anything that he could afford that his darling is hyper fixated on.

Tries his best to calm his darling during their meltdowns.

Joyce Byers:

Would treat her darling like anyone else but would be very caring during their breakdowns and help them with their sensory issues.

Henry Creel/Peter Ballard/001:

Finds his darling much easier to manipulate, especially when they're having a meltdown.

Doesn't care much for their sensory issues but pretends he does so his darling will think that he cares deeply about them.

Basically does not care.

[tht0nesimp]

What if reader falls asleep during an escape attempt?

Eddie:

Weirded out but figured that the weed would kick in sometime and just picks you up and brings you back to the trailer, when you wake up higher than the clouds and about to fall asleep again you realized the immense amount of drugs that had just been pumped smoked and taken by you and Eddie was just sitting there mainly sober as an infuser tried to cover the smell of weed

Steve: He picks you up and is still angry but will wake you up at home to punish you for it letting you sleep for a few minutes beforehand

Robin: “what the hell..” just leans over you and picks you back up

Billy: Laughing his off ass while you sat in an alley lightly snoring as the man picked you up still giggling, you’ll never hear the end of it

Dustin: Leans over you and just stares for a few minutes before sighing, it wasn’t even a chase and he would be carrying you home

Mike: You wake back up to being in bed and he just shrugged leaving you to sleep some more, he was confused on how it even happened but it worked for him