#and that’s why billy acts like that when he gets to hawkins

[ickypuppi3]

it’s the way neil called billy that specifically in reference to billy’s appearance/billy caring about his appearance

makes you wonder how often that happens

and when it started

because i can just imagine it being a thing

like people spreading rumours about billy at school when he was younger and neil just pulls the whole “if you didn’t dress like that” “if you didn’t look like that” “there’s a reason people think you’re one of them”

and the way it can tie into the whole victim blaming “you were asking for it” mentality.. it’s just interesting to think about

[ihni]

Billy Hargrove has been dead for little over two months when Steve opens the door to find him on the doorstep, dirty and pale and shaking. He stares at Steve with wide eyes – bluer than Steve remembers – before he collapses into a heap of dirty limbs halfway across the threshold. Steve pulls him inside, disposes of him in the couch in the living room, and naturally proceeds to freak the fuck out.

After some processing, he decides that he must be experiencing a very vivid dream – and honestly, it’s a welcome change after the usual nightmares – and since it’s merely a dream, he opens a bottle of his dad’s best whiskey, because where’s the harm, right?

An hour later finds Steve sitting on the floor with his back to an armchair, predictably drunk and watching Billy sleep. Or possibly being unconscious. It doesn’t really matter which, since it’s only a dream.

Turns out, though, that it’s not a dream – or if it is, it’s a damn weird one. Because Billy wakes up, and when he looks around the room and spots Steve there, he starts to cry, which. Is not something that Steve’s brain could ever dream up, alcohol-soaked or not. And Billy feels solid enough under Steve’s hand, when he awkwardly pats the other boy’s shaking shoulders.

The events that have taken place are eventually revealed, but make no sense to either of them. Apparently Billy woke up somewhere dark and cramped (the coffin, he doesn’t say, but Steve hears it anyway), promptly panicked, and … broke out, somehow. Dug himself out from the rain-soaked earth, and stumbled along the roads until he saw a house he recognized. Which was Steve’s house.

It’s impossible, Steve knows. Billy has been dead for months. Steve saw him die – had first row seats to the sight of him getting impaled by a monster made out of meat and bones – and coming back from the dead after all that is simply not possible. Yet here Billy is, sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, not a mark on him.

(Literally. There are no marks, no scars. Just smooth skin where they both know he was speared through.)

They spend the rest of the night slowly making their way through Steve’s dad’s expensive whiskey.

In the morning, Billy says, voice hoarse; “I need you to drive me to California.”

Steve thinks of asking why. Thinks of Max, thinks of Billy’s parents, thinks of telling the Party or the police or at least some adult who would possibly know what to do. What he says, though, is “Okay.” The world swims, and he adds, belatedly, “Tomorrow, though. I’m too drunk to drive now.”

A snort is the last thing he hears before he falls asleep where he’s sitting.

~~~

Half the next day is spent nursing hangovers and realizing that nope, last night wasn’t a dream or an alcohol-induced hallucination. The other half is spent making preparations for the trip.

Now when Steve is sober, he revisits the idea to simply tell someone. Billy being back is a miracle, and there are people mourning him, people who has missed him –

Billy shuts that down hard and fast. “No one is mourning me here,” he says, voice gravel-rough. “If they act like they do, it’s because they’re feeling guilty. There’s nothing left for me here.” He licks his lips, and his next words are a whisper. “I never wanted to come here in the first place.”

And, like. If he really thinks about it, Steve realizes that they wouldn’t be able to keep Billy being back a secret if he stayed in Hawkins. And if they tell Max, or Billy’s family, then word would spread. The government would no doubt hear of it. There would be a high probability of Billy being taken in for tests, experimentation, whatever else.

He doesn’t deserve that, Steve thinks as he watches Billy emerge from the shower wearing borrowed clothes. Because Billy died saving them. Sacrificed himself for them, even when they’d done so little to try to save him. This? Driving Billy to California? It’s the least Steve can do for him.

~~~

They get on the road the next day. Steve has taken time off work blaming the death of an elderly aunt and a rare family gathering, and been as vague as he can get away with concerning how long he’ll be away. Early in the morning, they put their bags – Billy’s is a borrowed one, containing only Steve’s things since he has nothing of his own and understandably didn’t want to keep the clothes he had on when he was buried – in the trunk of the car, and get in.

Steve is driving. When they pass the “Leaving Hawkins” sign, Billy lets out an audible sigh and slumps down in his seat. Steve glances over at him, and Billy explains without being prompted; “I always hated this town. I can’t believe they fucking buried me here.”

His incredulousness over the fact draws a snort out of Steve.

~~~

It’s strange, how easy it is to get used to having Billy Hargrove next to him while in a confined space. Stranger yet, how well they get along considering their history. And even more strange, how different Billy seems now, when they’ve left Hawkins behind them.

Or perhaps it’s not strange at all – at least not in comparison to all the other weird stuff they’ve both seen and somehow lived through. In the great scheme of things, one young man coming back from the dead and wanting to go back home doesn’t even make the top ten list of weird shit.

Billy is surprisingly funny, and witty, and smart – and it is dazzling without the sharp edges. It takes Steve a while to recognize what is missing, and when he does, it makes him watch Billy with new eyes. Because Billy doesn’t seem to exist behind a layer of anger anymore. The tension is gone. The further they get from Hawkins, the easier Billy seems to breathe.

The change is remarkable. Makes Steve think that he probably never knew who Billy really was, before this.

He finds himself thinking that he is looking forward to getting to know the real Billy.

~~~

They take turns driving. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they sit in companionable silence, and sometimes whoever’s in the passenger seat naps while the other drives. They stop at gas stations to stock up on gas and snacks, and at diners for food. That first night, they drive straight through, but the next night they stop at a motel for some proper sleep in a bed.

They share a room, but lie in separate beds. They talk for hours in the dark before falling asleep.

“I never wanted to be buried underground,” Billy says, when they’re both on the edge of sleep. “They knew that.”

“What did you want, then?” Steve asks, never having considered an alternative.

“I wanted to get back to the ocean,” Billy says. “Have my ashes spread over the surface of the water and become one with the waves again.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. That he’s sorry that even Billy’s own family didn’t respect his final wishes? That it sucks that they buried his body in the dirt of a town he hated, leaving him to rot there forever when he never even wanted to come there in the first place?

“’One with the waves’ … That sounds beautiful,” he decides on. And then, as an aside, “I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

Steve can hear the smile in Billy’s voice when he speaks next. “You’re going to love it. It’s … everything.”

~~~

They get closer – to California, and to each other – and the closer they get, the less urgency Steve feels to get to their destination. Because what will happen when they get there? Steve can’t just leave Billy there without a means to support himself. Without a home, without a car, without money – without someone to take care of him. Steve can’t help it – he worries.

And then he looks at Billy’s smiling face next to him, and feels his worries being washed away.

He still finds himself taking the scenic route more often than not. Insisting on taking detours to see the sights. Claiming he’s too tired to drive unless he takes a break.

Billy smiles as if he knows what Steve is doing, but he doesn’t make a comment. Doesn’t complain. Seems to enjoy this little bubble they’re in together, in Steve’s car with the world passing them by outside.

It’s strange. But it’s nice, too. Steve kind of doesn’t want it to end.

~~~

The last night, they stop at a motel an hour or two from their destination. They could have kept on driving, but none of them seemed to want to. So they get a room, as usual. Steve pays, as usual. There are two beds, as usual.

Yet, when it’s time to sleep, Billy forgoes his own bed and goes to stand by Steve’s. There’s a question in the air between them, unasked.

Steve answers by peeling back the comforter in invitation. His mouth is dry and his heart is beating like a drum in his chest as Billy climbs in next to him.

They don’t speak much, that night. But they kiss. And they hold each other.

“I never wanted to come to Hawkins,” Billy whispers between kisses. “And I hated it there. But I met you, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

The next morning, they wake up in each other’s arms.

~~~

“I’ll show you my home,” Billy says when they get back in the car after breakfast. Steve is back behind the wheel, because he wants a reason to keep his eyes on the road. If he watches Billy too much, he’ll do something stupid – like turn the car around and go back to Hawkins with Billy still in it, or perhaps decide not to go back to Hawkins at all, himself. Just, stay here with Billy, for a while longer.

It’s a fantasy that hurts, so he pushes it down. Concentrates on following Billy’s directions, and drive through a city bigger than one he’s ever been in.

(When he first spots the glittering blue between buildings, he gasps. So does Billy.)

They drive through the city, then out of it. Along a winding road with fewer and fewer buildings around, the ocean vast and terrifyingly endless to their right. Eventually Billy directs them down a gravel road that doesn’t have a sign and looks like it might lead onto private property. Steve would worry, would perhaps protest, if it wasn’t for the longing on Billy’s face.

They have to walk the last bit, Billy says. They get out of the car. It’s hours before noon, but it’s already warm. Steve’s in just a T-shirt, and for a second he his face to the sun to feel the warmth of it on his skin – before turning to Billy only to see him turned to the sun, too. Like a flower in bloom.

He looks golden, in this light.

After a short walk down a steep incline, they end up on a little beach. A tiny one, empty, with rocky outcrops on either side which makes it seem like they’re the only people on earth. The sand is fine and pale under their feet, the water lapping at the edges of it and then stretching out in front of them until it meets the horizon, far far away.

It’s beautiful. But it’s not exactly a house. And didn’t Billy say he’d show Steve his home?

“Mom used to take me here when I was a kid,” Billy says, kicking off his shoes. Steve does the same, and pulls off his socks as well. “We used to come here all the time.” Billy holds out his hand with a smile, and Steve takes it. They make their way to the water. “She’d watch me play in the water for hours, sitting on a towel, just listening to the waves and the seagulls.” The first step into the water is a shock – it’s cold, but not freezing. It almost feels alive. Steve takes a tentative step after Billy, bolstered by Billy’s widening smile. “I think taking me here was the most peaceful she ever got to be. It was for me, at least. The best times of my childhood.”

They stand there in the surf, feet in the water and holding hands, when Billy turns to Steve. His eyes are shining with unshed tears and his smile is wobbly as he places his hands on either sides of Steve’s face and leans in for the softest of kisses; their lips just barely brushing against each other.

“Thank you,” he says, and Steve’s heart skips a beat because it sounds like goodbye, “for not letting me stay buried in Indiana.”

He backs up a step. Brushes a tear from Steve’s cheek – that he hadn’t realized had fallen – and turns towards the endless sea. Takes a deep breath and starts walking.

Steve wants to reach out to stop him, wills himself to to say something, but he can’t. Somehow, he knows that this is where they were heading from the start. This is why they had to go here.

As Steve watches, Billy … dissolves. Like in a movie. One moment he is solid, and the next he’s … not. He turns to dust in front of Steve’s eyes, fine dust that glitters like gold in a sudden ray of sunlight. It – he – is spread out over the water, is carried over the clear surface by the gentle breeze.

Instead of being trapped in the ground inland, he becomes one with the waves again.

[intothedysphoria]

Steve didn’t really like Billy the first time they meet.

Contrary to what Robin believed, it wasn’t because Steve was jealous or bitter or even because he’d let a spike of lust twist itself into a deep seated resentment.

The real answer was that Billy was loud. Steve didn’t do that well with loud.

Billy was loud and spontaneous and didn’t have any respect for the carefully constructed rules Steve had made for himself to stop himself from falling apart. He wasn’t exactly scary but he stood too close to Steve for Steve to process and the things he said were confusing and didn’t make sense.

Steve managed to stand him down for the time that Billy approached him but then promptly excused himself. The party had suddenly become far too overwhelming.

His support worker heard a lot about Billy in their next appointment. Over Steve’s time in highschool, to hide the fact that his brain was broken, they’d moved check ins into essentially a large cupboard masquerading as a small classroom where Hawkins High shoved all the kids with a disability.

Steve added him to the list of people who did not make sense and thus should not be thought about. Billy did not seem like he wanted to respect the fact that he was on that list.

He was inescapable. There was just a barrage of constant conversation in class, sat in the cafeteria, on the basketball court. Billy’s words were angry but his tone didn’t match those words. Instead, it made what could have been threats sound fond.

Carol, who Steve was still friends with but in secret now, told Steve that Billy had a difficult home life. The details weren’t hers to share but it could potentially contextualise why he acted the way he did.

The more Billy seemed to seek out Steve, the more Steve gradually got used to him. Billy was still on the list of people who didn’t make sense but he’d become familiar enough to Steve that he was no longer a stranger.

Conversations were stilted once Steve started talking back. Billy would say something outrageous and all Steve could respond with was a recycled King Steve script or an answer so bluntly honest Billy seemed genuinely shocked.

It was cute. That’s what Billy said. The way Steve talked was cute.

Obviously Steve knew the dictionary definition of the word cute but he had a difficult time translating what Billy meant in context. It could perhaps be flirtatious which was impossible because Billy was straight or an attempt at bullying which stung.

Things continued to be complicated when Billy tried to kiss him at a Christmas get together at Joyce’s. Billy was very obviously drunk and had made a beeline for Steve the moment he saw Steve standing awkwardly next to the mistletoe. Steve, who had been imagining kissing Billy in his mind for a good month but didn’t want it to be when Billy could barely stand up, took a startled step back.

To say Billy took this badly was an understatement.

Even Steve, who struggled with facial expressions and body language could tell he spent the remainder of the party seething until he promptly passed out into Jonathan’s arms.

Steve offered to take him and deposited him onto the nearest sofa. He found himself tucking Billy in, making sure he wasn’t going to puke and generally making sure Billy was ok.

The faint mumble of “fucking love you Harrington” was wishful thinking. It had to be.

It wasn’t awkward after the Christmas break finished. Steve refused to let it be awkward.

Billy coming onto him hadn’t been Billy with a clear mind. It was a mistake and Steve was not going to bring up the matter again.

Billy flirting with him even more had not been a predicted outcome. He was coming out with lines so obvious even Steve couldn’t miss them. And the way Steve was hadn’t seemed to be a turn off either.

The next time Billy came onto him, while they were studying in the library, Steve just told him “I’d like to kiss you now”.

Billy seemed very happy to comply with that statement.

Even if it did get them kicked out for the rest of the semester for “inappropriate behaviour.” It was worth it.

[glimmerlofsea]

Billy Hargrove x Reader

MASTERLIST

I'M ON YOUR SIDE

Warning : I don't know how to write it but the reader's father is very abusive, so a bit of violent? Kissing part (ehehe) but not too hot.

WC; 2,7k

#TALKISSA; Where Billy is attracted to you, who is a nerd but still maintains your title of popularity because of your intelligence and genius. You don't like the new kid, he always taunts you with your bookishness, until when he wants to irritating you he realizes that your face is puffy.

You are always the student with the title of 'the smartest' in class, but that doesn't mean that a bunch of girls there can bully you, in fact you have your own interests which actually make you more attractive when all the nerds in school are bullied. You feel bad for them, you try your best to help them.

You're in gym class, your clothes are wet and you're wearing shorts for gym class, because your clothes are wet from sweat—I know it's gross, believe me—you decide to take off your clothes at the gym, luckily that day you were wearing a white tank top.

Because you felt yourself being watched, you looked in a direction that supported your instincts, that's where you saw the new kid who was looking at you with a sly smile, you always hated him, how he acted bossily and all his arrogant attitudes. You fake a smile and throw up your middle finger before going to get your backpack.

You still felt his gaze, but you didn't care, because gym class was the last subject in your class. You decided to take a shower when you got home.

When you get home you get ready to go with your father, mother and brother for a family dinner at a restaurant not far from your house, where your extended family visits Hawkins for the holidays, even though that is a bad choice for enjoying their holiday.

Your father isn't always abusive, maybe there will come a time when he will punish you when you get bad grades, you think it's normal since you don't achieve what he wants, but slowly you feel like it's out of bounds, you push yourself to get greater in your academic achievements.

Because you are the only girl when many of your cousins ​​are boys, you want to prove to them that you are not just a joke as they say. But unfortunately, at dinner, your aunt, your cousin, and even your uncle tried to bring up the topic of you getting bad grades.

You feel uncomfortable but try to smile,

"Let it go, Y/N. And Frank, aren't you pushing your daughter too much? C'mon, man, you know women can't be anything." Your uncle, Tom, said to your father, you looked at your uncle sarcastically, he looks down on women too much, isn't that right? You haven't liked Uncle Tom for a long time, he always looks down on you.

"And Y/N," Tom said then shook his head while chuckling, "What are you actually trying to achieve? Look at John, he's not even trying but is already being targeted by several big CEOs in Atlanta."

John smiled proudly at you who was showing your flat face, oh, John, if he knew how much you wanted to punch him in the face.

"That's what differentiates me from John, Uncle Tom. What I'm trying to achieve is my real effort, not John with zero effort and then proudly showing his fucking smile." You said without the slightest smile, Tom looked surprised by your words, while Aunt Mary clenched her jaw and held her son's chest so he wouldn't get hurt hearing your words.

"Y/N." Your father warned you.

You looked at him, "What? I'm just telling the truth."

"Apologize." Press your father.

You chuckled, "Why am I sorry? I didn't—" Your father who sit right next to you immediately slapped you, a gasp came from many family members including your older brother who initially didn't pay attention, "I didn't raise you to being a disrespectful bitch."

You held your cheeks and looked at your father with your lips quivering, "Do you understand, Y/N Y/L/N?" You hesitate to answer, but you nod slowly, “Yes, Father.”

You tried to hold back your tears, you didn't want to be embarrassed again, especially by your own father,

"Apologize."

You looked at Uncle Tom, Aunt Mary, and John, looking at them in turn, "I am sorry for my impudence."

"You better be, kid." Uncle Tom replied.

The rest of dinner didn't go well, things became tense when you guys saw an atmosphere where your father slapped you, your mother was there, but she really didn't do her job as a mother. All she thinks about is the money from your father's work, she wasn't even there when your first period came.

You are just silent, you feel like no one is on your side, or even support you.

Landon, your brother? He is second to none with John who immediately got the job without looking at his grades.

You hate being yourself who is thought to be incapable of anything and can't be anything. They should clear their minds, aren't even your aunt and mother furious when the men in their family degrade women like that?

You hated your father, but at least he wanted you to be something to be proud of, just to be proud of, not to be raised with the love and sincerity you need.

You spent the whole night crying, your father didn't forget to teach you a lesson, usually he would lock you in the basement all day without food and drink because of your rude words like a child not being taught, but this time it was different, because when you're having a family dinner that night he was quite drunk, he slapped you several times on your cheek. Leaves redness that will last until morning.

Your mother? She went out with her friends with the money your father gave her, Landon just stayed in his room playing games without thinking one bit about his future.

Sometimes you think Uncle Tom was right, why are you doing all this? If in the end you can't achieve anything or can't become anything.

Since that night things got chaos, you kept getting distracted while taking a test.

“Miss Y/L/N.”

You heard a teacher calling you, you turned and caught Mr. Cravil walked towards you, with all the energy you had you tried to smile, your energy was almost drained from crying all night, "Yes?"

"What happened? Several teachers complained that your grades had dropped drastically. And even I, as your homeroom teacher as a Mathematics teacher, was surprised by the change in your grades." Obviously Mr. Cravil when you pay close attention to his words.

You sighed, you knew you messed up, you really had no motivation, “Sorry, Mr. Cravil.”

"No, no, don't apologize. I'm just reflecting this drastic change, you know? You can always tell me at any time."

It wasn't like the teacher's request was lewd, but Mr. Cravil is sincere, he really concerned you, not only you, he really cares about his students.

You weakly smiled, "Thank you, Mr. Cravil."

After that you go to the bathroom.

You look in the mirror, staring blankly at yourself then you wash your face with water, all the make up comes off, the cuts caused by your father starts to show, he really gets maniacally mad when he hears that your grades have dropped. Of course he already knew since he said he had a stalker to monitor developments at your school.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, you shed tears, looked at yourself in the mirror and uncontrollably punched the mirror with your bare hands. You wouldn't have thought that the mirror would crack in one punch from yourself who you feel is getting weaker every day. But you are relieved, even though the blood is dripping from the bones of your hand.

You took a breath and covered your face with your hoodie, then you grabbed your backpack to rush home. Or wherever you felt safe since 'home' doesn't feel safe anymore.

In the corridor you hear some gossip from the girls at school,

"I heard she's pregnant..."

"She's pregnant so her grades have dropped..."

"She's a mess."

You closed your eyes and took your headset from your trouser pocket to not hear the words that haunted your mind, you don't need it, you really don't need it right now.

When you come out of the school corridor, you think it's over, but someone appears in front of you, Billy Hargrove with his trademark smile that makes all the girls crazy but you,

Someone pulls your hoodie that covering your head, you try to control your anger,

You looked at Billy, at first he smiled like a psychopath, but seeing your face which had several cuts made him lose his smile, "Hey, Tommy, hook me up with a fresh cig."

"What? Come on, Billy, I thought we were gonna hassle this girl—"

"Just bounce, dude. Quick." Billy replied.

You still had your locks on Billy, “Fuck off.” You were about to leave but he held your hand, you winced a little when he accidentally touched your bleeding hand bone, Billy, who realized that his hand had traces of blood, immediately lifted your hand, after he saw it, you immediately pulled your hand back and pulled up your hoodie.

"Fuck. Off." Press you once again then leave in front of him.

He really isn't holding you back, why? Because he was trying to understand what happened. What happened? A perfect girl experiences something like that in her life? And oh, how he hated the cuts that dimmed your face.

He always pays attention to you, always, when you flash the biggest smile he's ever seen, when you don't hesitate to defend a nerd who is being bullied by Tommy, or when you smile proudly in class when you get the right answer and get a plus. What he thinks when he sees you is the only light that brings beauty and happiness to this city full of cows.

But when he saw your condition just a few minutes ago? His world seemed to be turning upside down and his brain not too immersed in thinking.

You decide to go to the supermarket to treat your wounds, followed by going anywhere that at least brings you peace.

You return home at night, of course your mother won't be there, she always goes and comes back as she pleases. You thought your father was asleep, but it turned out that when he entered the house he was holding an alcohol bottle in his hand, he slammed it hard, making the glass bounce onto your leg, making your leg scratch and you wince.

Your father grabbed you and dragged you, "You ungrateful child, this is the first and last time i saw you come home at night, understand?! You have to learn, bitch! Don't be a whore as you like!"

"Father, please! It hurts. It's—" You cried, no matter how tight your father's grip was, maybe a few strands of hair would fall out the next day, "Please, I'm not being a whore or even a slut out there."

Your father threw you harshly into your room, "Crap. Have I ever exposed you to lies, Lady? I raised you well so that you wouldn't be like your mother who only knows about money and becomes a prostitute every night!" Your father cupped your chin and held it tightly, making you sob, "But you're no different from her."

You were still struggling with your breath, when your father locked your room you knew it was going to be a hard and bad week.

You leaned yourself on the edge of the mattress and hid your head in the knees of your feet, crying uncontrollably, you hated your life. Why bother living if throughout your life you are not treated as a human being? Not even once in your life.

While you were crying, you heard a sound from your window, you looked at the window and saw Billy appear at your window and enter your room. With you looking towards the door, hopefully your father didn't hear it. You stood up with all your strength, but were still unsteady on your legs, which were injured by scratches from the alcohol bottle.

Billy approaches you,

"What are you doing? Billy, get out." You said frantically as you wiped your face and tucked your hair behind your ear which was sticky to your face from your tears.

“I know this sounds stupid but I'm worried about you, Y/L/N.” You closed your eyes in frustration, this was simply an unwise and downright stupid choice.

"Y/N, tell me what's wrong. You're a complete mess and—"

"Exactly!" You screamed and whispered at the same time, you caught your breath and held back your tears, "Exactly, Billy. I look really messed up and with you here? It's really going to be even more messed up. Please, leave. Before my father realizes you're even here."

Billy touched your cheek without your permission, but his hand was warm, making you relax for a moment because your body had been freezing all day, "Is this because of your father?"

You looked at him and nodded slowly.

"Y/N, who is that? Are you talking to someone!? Fucking brat, I'm going to kill you."

You panicked when you heard your father scream, you let go of Billy's grip and pushed his body slowly towards the window, "Leave. Now."

"But-"

"Oh God, please, Billy!" You said in frustration, you really depended your life on him, "Please,"

Billy had heard the word 'please' a thousand times in his life while fucking girls in Hawkins, but this time? This sounds different. As if a girl's life depended on him.

"Okay..." Billy finally said it, "Just call me? Make sure I know you're okay. I wrote my number in your biology book."

You nodded quickly, feeling panicked because the sound of the door lock had started to beep. When Billy started to go get his profit, your father didn't catch anyone, so you were safe and he didn't leave any scars behind.

Several weeks have passed, things are still the same but better. Since that night you could say you spent more time with Billy, nothing romantic, but you just touched when Billy said that he would protect you, you were flattered and laughed a little at his stupidity in saying it.

And he always says he will always be beside you, will always dry your tears when they wet your face, and he will even risk his life just to take away the darkness that is in your life. You really wish you could do the opposite for him too.

You both share the same experience, an abusive father and feeling unwanted. But it feels like you need someone like Billy, he's not that bad actually.

And here you are, you are sitting on the hood of Billy's car while he is lying on the hood of his car, believe me, you are the only girl he lets sit on the hood of his car. He feels like you are another part of him, and you are truly like a treasure to be protected, at all times. You sometimes feel that Billy is your real father, not Frank.

You were sucking on the ice cream Billy had bought you moments before, you two were just spending time staring at the stars at night.

Billy woke up from his sleep, and you looking at his direction, you quickly finished your ice cream so you could rest your head on his shoulder. It was silly but Billy secretly loved it when you depended on him.

"I like midnight." You said.

"Yeah?"

You nod.

"Especially when spending it with me, right?" Billy asked with a smile that made you laugh and pull your head from his shoulder.

"Oh, that smile. I really want to keep it in my pocket." Billy said, you smiled, "Then keep it."

"Can I?"

You nodded, "On condition that you buy me another ice cream."

Billy rolled his eyes, "That's your third ice cream, Princess." He always calls you princess since right now you are the most valuable thing he has.

Now you roll your eyes, "There are not enough words for ice cream."

Billy chuckled, "There's something on your lips."

You looked up at him and traced your lips, "Really? Where?"

"Let me wipe it." He replied with a crooked smile.

"Sure-"

Before finishing your words he kissed you right on the lips, hell, what a really nice move. When he felt you didn't reject him he started to deepen the kiss and placed his hand on your thigh while his other hand landed on the back of your neck. You ran your fingers down his chest.

When you broke the kiss you chuckled, “So sneaky.”

Billy smiled and kissed your forehead, “I guess that's my new title, isn't it?” You just roll your eyes.

He got off the hood of the car, then offered his hand for you to reach as you got off the hood, and you gladly accepted, "Let's go back, okay?"

You nod.

With him, all you feel is sincerity and love, what you need most to live are these two things. With him, no one is pressuring you to get good grades, and you really need a 'Billy' figure in your life, at least occasionally in your life. You were happy that night he admitted to your room. And you hope Billy feels otherwise.

Author Note : I don't know but when I wrote this I was too immersed and became emotional... while listening to the song it was as if I really got into the character... maybe a little out of context from Billy's attitude, but let me play with my own imagination. I hope you guys like it!

[bugsbenefit]

currently rewatching s3 and honestly... yeah no wonder Mike and Will had to be across the country in s4 for the plot to work they're too fucking good with this. even in s3 where they play a lot of plot support for El they're actually CARRYING the groups actions

s3 actually makes the difference between Mike and Will and the rest of the party Extremely clear. El, Max, and Lucas are lost at first, ranging from not taking Billy too seriously or just not knowing what to do

Mike and Will are the only one's with first hand experience. Will was possessed by the MF (Henry) and Mike sat next to him like this for over two days straight. Will has the intel and Mike has seen what possession looks and acts like up close. they KNOW what they're doing in s3 which is why they take the threat of Billy and the MF so serious so fast. even El has to ask them how possession works and how you can identify it. because despite having powers she still has no experience with this

that experience also gets highlighted in situations like the pool, where Max wants to wait and see what happens with Billy to know if he's flayed but Mike and Will know they have to act first

they know you don't wait until someone activates. the entire population of Hawkins lab was killed last time someone activated and they both witnessed it first hand. but the other's weren't there for that and don't really know how to deal with the current situation

also, Mike and Will are fully on the same page regarding the supernatural, which is why they're so efficient. Will gives his insight on the MF (Henry) and Mike immediately jumps to thinking of a proactive plan. the sauna idea took him less than 5 seconds

they would have completely fucked the plot of s4 over had they been in Hawkins i'm so serious. s3 literally shows us exactly why they couldn't be there:

Will can tell when Henry gets close (which s4 even confirms he is still able to do). had he been around in s4 he could've warned everyone if Vecna got to Max. no wondering when he's going to get you. Will would Know and he'd Tell you. they wouldn't lose time looking for Vecna in the Creel house, they wouldn't lose time scrambling to get headphones last minute

Mike is incredibly good at adapting prior knowledge to new situations which the Hakwins crew was Abysmal at. Mike can apply chemistry facts from years ago when it's convenient and can convert Will's possession into a working possession-test for Billy. but in s4 we have to suffer watching the crew remember that fire was the UD's weakness and then never use it on anyone but Vecna himself. a bottle of hairspray and a lighter could have gotten them out of being strangled by vines but they only had the clunky molotovs for Vecna. their planning methods directly contradict Mike's approach to plans

also. both of them act proactively. everyone at Hawkins lab died because they didn't stop Will in advance and s3 shows they learned from that. i honestly can't see a way for them to be on board with an "i'll be bait" plan. they directly argue against waiting for him to take action multiple times in s3. they KNOW that's how people die because it's too late when he gets here

and best of all. MIKE LITERALLY CALLS OUT WHY THE S4 PLAN DIDN'T WORK. word for word. you could paste this into s4 and pretend it's Mike berating them for the plan they just came up with

s4 makes it super clear that Mike and Will being absent is BAD with their friends directly commenting on how they're not here to help, and the last shot of the season being them returning to town speaks for itself, but s3 also directly shows us why. based on how they've dealt with the UD's/MF's return just six months before s4 shows how they would have approached something like s4. and at this point the two of them are too good of a team with too much experience to let them be around for it

(which would in universe most likely be Henry waiting for both of them to be out of the picture and out of universe be the writers putting them on the gay roadtrip in the weed van to be able to set up endgame s5 in peace without having them be in the way)

[findafight]

god i love when fics have steve experiencing insane things but being nonchalant about it bc he thinks it's normal when it absolutely is not. i like to think there have been multiple instances where other guys have been like psychosexually obsessed w steve so when billy starts acting like that steve's just like "ugh again?" like imagine if when he's dating eddie he's just casually like "god isn't it so annoying when other guys get like aggressively obsessed w you and stare at you all the time?" and eddie is sitting there chanting wtf in his head wondering how steve is a real human.

Ya I think it'd be very funny if kinda very strange things happen to Steve and he figures that it's just a normal thing. He'll be sitting around with people like hey y'all ever think about when you and your friends would dig a big hole and pretend to bury someone alive and hold a funeral for them and then they'd go home and tell your parents you died in the woods? When your mom ran into the forest she found you covered in flowers and dirt staring at the sky thinking about how cool it'd be to decompose into the ground she cried and it was probably the first time you saw a grown up cry? And every one is like uhhhhh no. Our friends did not actually fake our death semi successfully and scare our parents??? And he goes oh. Huh. Weird!

my HC is Robin is Steve first similar age friend that has not wanted to fuck him since eighth grade. This is funny because she has also never been normal about him. No one has ever been normal about Steve.

I think it's also very funny that Billy teamed up with Tommy, who you know has never been normal about Steve in his life. Like maybe when Steve was in middle school there was a guy who also was weirdly obsessed with Steve except he and Tommy viciously hated each other. Like straight up brawling and crying about it and Steve is there like what the fuck are you doing??? And Carol beside him just shaking her head going uhg Steve they're being gross let's leave.

But Tommy and Billy...They sniffed each other out or something idk how but they found each other and were obsessed with Steve together in a toxic positive feedback loop. And poor Steve is sitting here like "uhg 😑 Still? Another one? Why does this keep happening?" As though it's a completely regular occurrence. Bro. Buddy. What is your life actually.

Eddie finding out about this history and he's just like. No. Steve. I do not know what it's like to have men stare at me with thinly disguised lust?? But also keeping to himself that he was ALSO obsessed with Steve. He's like oooh my god. I'm not the only one?? The one thing I have in common with Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove is our weird obsession with Steve? What kinda world...

Except he's also immensely smug about it because yeah other guys have been obsessed with Steve. It seems to be a Hawkins right of passage for their age group. But Eddie actually got him. He fucking won.

[robthegoodfellow]

I'm Glad My Dad Died

mungrove | slightly expanded version of fic written for @strangerthingscharityzine | ao3

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy had a secret: he was glad his dad was dead. So glad that even when his mom sold their house in Ocean Beach and moved them to Hawkins, Indiana, uprooting him from his friends and the sea and everything Billy loved, he still wouldn’t go back to the way things were. Given the options—California, dad alive; or Indiana, dad dead—he’d pick the second every time.

He would, even though Hawkins was its own hell. Learned the hard way that among prepubescent country bumpkins, embroidered roses on your shirt and hair like Shirley Temple bought you a one-way ticket to Loserville.

It was the fall of 1979. Disco was dying and former flower children were gearing up to vote for Reagan. Kumbaya over, time to make America great again.

So, yeah—sixth grade sucked, but stuff at home was world’s better. They were living with Aunt Doris—because San Diego was too expensive, his mom said, and wouldn’t it be nice to get a fresh start?

Mom was really into the whole fresh start thing—which Billy suspected was fueled by guilt and determination to be the kind of mother she hadn’t been before. And… he appreciated that. He did.

But—he wished she would stop? Put down the pen, step away from the extracurricular sign-up sheets.

Because if the outfit put a target on his back, swim team aimed the bow, and band fired the arrow. 

You’ll miss the water, honey. And you love music! 

She wasn’t wrong. He did love those things—but not enough to willingly wear a Speedo in public or blunder through some Beethoven on the flute. Also in public.

Oh—why the flute? Because she’d fed him a steady diet of hippie tunes from the cradle and knew how much he dug Jethro Tull. Perfectly reasonable explanation—his peers would definitely understand.

Here lies Billy Hargrove, innocent victim of social homicide. 

The bullying was relentless, but Billy figured he could take it. No middle school bully could come close to the one he’d lived with all his life. 

You know, the one he was glad was dead.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy hadn’t wanted to attend the talent show, but Mom insisted it was important to support his friends. By which she meant her friends—women she’d been palling around with who had kids in said show.

Kids she’d been aggressively arranging playdates with like Billy was five. 

Patrick’s talent was making twenty free-throw shots in a row. Robin’s was singing “This Land is Your Land” in four different languages. His mom and Mrs. Buckley had laughed about keeping the less than patriotic lyrics, assuming the Spanish rendition would fly over people’s heads.

Billy felt bad even thinking it, but he did wonder if his mom pushing these particular friends at him was part of her fresh start campaign.

Pat was black. Robin was a girl. And his dad had a habit of muttering snide remarks about anyone who wasn’t a WASP packing a sizable stinger—who wasn’t a clone of Neil Hargrove, basically.

And look, Pat and Robin were—fine. But he knew and they knew that they were only hanging out because their moms wanted them to, which was awkward as hell. Made his palms sweat whenever they were together or whenever they said hi at school despite him being a fairy freak according to kids whose opinions mattered. 

They were nice, but it felt like pity. Embarrassing in a way that made him shrivel up inside.

So he wasn’t in the best mood, slumped in the auditorium between his mother and Doris, praying no one pelted him with shit from behind. Mom felt crappy enough about all those years with Neil—Billy didn’t need her kicking herself for scooping him out of the fire and into a frying pan.

Pat set a record—28 in a row—and Billy clapped. Robin sang her song wearing a daisy crown, and Billy clapped. Dully, he watched as stagehands set up the next act, hauling out a drum kit.

Gareth, this shrimpy sixth grader, sat at the drums. Then an eighth grader came out, followed by a couple kids in seventh, the former bearing an electric guitar, one of the latter a bass. The guitarist waved, leaned into the mic—skinny guy with a buzzcut, eyes big and dark as an alien. 

We are Corroded Coffin—paused as a contingent of the audience went nuts—and this song is called Paranoid.

In the next row, a kid whispered, excited: Think they’ll make Coleman pull the plug again?

Gareth banged his drumsticks, counting them off. 

The opening riffs were like nothing Billy had heard before—this grind of chords that rattled teeth, thrummed in the chest. He straightened, compelled forward, a fishing line hooked deep.

Buzzcut was bent over the strings so low that all you could see was the top of his head, a fuzzy cue ball. Then Gareth kicked in, and the front man wailed the first verse, this nasal staccato, sort of speak-singing.

Billy scrambled to decipher the rapidfire—caught bits of the first verses. Then the bridge begged for help, and the rest landed loud and clear.

I need someone to show me The things in life that I can't find I can't see the things that make       true happiness I must be blind

The words were meant for him—just for Billy. It’s me. The guitarist leapt, plunged into a driving solo. The song’s about me.

Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal

Helpless, Billy turned to his mom, who grinned, whispering they’re great, aren’t they? He could only nod, swinging back to the guitarist, riveted until the final blaring note.

For Christmas, Billy unwrapped the smallest package under the tree—a cassette. It was all he’d asked for: Black Sabbath’s greatest hits album.

Because that night of the talent show, he sold his soul for rock n’ roll.

More specifically, for heavy metal.

More secretly, for the boy with the big brown eyes.

Eddie, he’d found out at school the next day, gossip overheard at lunch. The boy was Eddie.

Eddie Munson.

And whenever Billy caught a glimpse of him, the rest of that year, he thrummed like an electric guitar.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Unfortunately, his passion for headbanging and powerchords did not meaningfully improve the remainder of middle school, and by the time he walked the stage at eighth grade graduation, Billy resolved to make a change—give himself a fresh start on his terms.

First, he mowed endless lawns and bought a new wardrobe: bootcut jeans with matching boots, which lent him some height and a certain swagger; button downs in dark colors worn open to his sternum and white tees like the crew from Outsiders; a bitchin’ leather jacket.

His hair had progressed from Shirley Temple to Farrah Fawcett, so he trotted to the barber for a Bon Jovi bi-level. Almost chickened out at the mall when he got his ear pierced, but loved the way the earring swung from his left lobe… though the right would’ve been more accurate. 

He quit band and swim. Thought maybe he’d try basketball instead, and enlisted Pat to help him practice.

They were actual buddies by then.

Lastly, he took up smoking. Marlboro Reds, because they were badass. Soldiered through the pack all summer, suppressing a gag on every pull till he was puffing like a chimney.

August before ninth grade, Pat’s brother let them tag along to a party at the quarry; if Billy got in good with upperclassmen, it could pave the way to social acceptance—maybe even… popularity?

Total pipe dream, but then… it worked.

That night was one for the record books: first time smoking dope, shot-gunning a beer… first time a girl went down on him.

First time he’d seen Eddie in two years. Wouldn’t even have recognized him, except the eyes hadn’t changed. Eddie was a junior and looked it: taller, wild dark hair to his shoulders, tattoos peeking from his sleeves. He made a brief appearance and vanished—there to sell some supply, not socialize.

Billy wished he’d stayed. Admitted then what he was most excited about for high school: the chance to see Eddie Munson again.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Ironically, the object of Billy’s obsession had suffered a fall from grace in the transition to the big leagues: swirling rumors swore he was a Satan-worshiping anarchist and a burnout to boot. A weirdo who played geeky games with his loser friends.

Except—unlike Billy, Eddie didn’t give a fuck. While Billy strutted around vaguely unsettled, ill at ease with his costume, this immersive performance for the foreseeable future, Eddie had unveiled his freak flag—reveled in it, let it fly.

Regret gnawed at him, grew in Billy’s gut—knew if he were a little braver, he could trash this cool kid stuff and… 

End of Eddie’s senior year, Billy was sick at heart. Knew he’d missed his shot.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

So imagine his confusion, surprise—his hidden euphoric delight—when Billy spotted that dark mop atop a wiry frame loping across the parking lot on the first day of eleventh grade.

Eddie should have graduated, but for whatever reason… hadn’t.

Thus, a new resolution: seize this chance. Be Eddie’s friend.

By second semester, Billy had worked his way up to casual chit chat and also, incidentally, was a raging pothead—so much so that his mother was worried, and she had spent the 60s stoned out of her gourd.

Let him experiment, Doris advised, winking at Billy over dinner. His grades are fine. What’s the harm?

The following evening, Doris showed him her special cookies stashed in the freezer, cautioning him to only ever take one bite and be patient. Billy asked if he could give one to his friend.

Top tier moment, right up there with Dad dying. Eddie’s eyes lit up all starry, demanded Billy come hang so they could make like Keebler—try the old elfin magic—and Billy was blessed to learn that Loaded Eddie = Handsy Eddie.

Blessed and cursed, because Eddie learned that Blazed Billy = Honest Billy. Tell me a secret, Eddie said, tickling. Tell me a secret.

Nothing happened. Eddie was just… affectionate. Bit of a snuggler. Who now knew he was the reason Billy was such a metalhead. 

And that Billy was glad—about his dad.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Eddie was held back again, and suddenly math and history were Billy’s favorite classes because Eddie sat next to him in the back row. Seemed to do decently with Billy there egging him on.

Thus, his final resolution: graduate with Eddie. Drag him across the finish line if necessary. Billy held study sessions he didn’t need at the library after school, invited Eddie to join—and Eddie did.

Eddie invited Billy to come see his band play at a local bar on Tuesdays—and Billy did.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said one weekend, when they were sharing a bowl, and Billy snorted, gazed into bloodshot eyes. Glad you got held back. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing this. Eddie smirked, soft. Getting high? Billy laughed. Hanging out.

Billy turned eighteen that March, and the Buckleys and McKinneys came over to celebrate, as usual. Unusual was the doorbell as they were about to eat, Eddie and Wayne trooping in, sorry for being late.

Robin picked up on something that night—cornered him in the bathroom. Are you and Eddie…? Billy went tight, and she rushed to reassure. It’s okay if you are. I am, too. So Billy breathed, calmed. I am. I dunno if he is. Robin arched her brow. From where I’m sitting, odds are good.

Billy spent weeks yanking hope by the roots.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Come May, they walked in green cap and gown—hugged in the milling crowd, Eddie cackling wet in his ear, a clinging koala. Didn’t think I could do it.

Billy brought him along to Robin’s graduation party. In the backyard, her old childhood treehouse beckoned, and they heeded the call.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said, sitting back against mossy boards. They weren’t even high. He flicked Billy’s earring—set his heart swinging. That should be on the other side, Billy said, and stared until Eddie flushed red, understood. I got a secret, he said, and Billy didn’t dare to know but did. 

Eddie said it: I’ve wanted to kiss you all year.

A click as Billy swallowed, bone dry. Then do it.

And Eddie did.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

[mrprettywhenhecries]

Interesting things I've learned about Billy and Max from reading the Runaway Max novel

Thought these would be worth sharing for those who haven't read the book, but like me, crave more Max & Billy backstory/lore.

Billy antis DNI

putting under a cut for spoilers

Billy's dad was a security guard at the bank where Susan Mayfield worked as a teller in San Diego, and that's how they met.

Max's mom has not so great taste in men, so compared to the other losers she dated, Neil seemed way better in comparison, at least at first.

Neil thinks Reagan is "the best thing to happen to America since Eisenhower". Figures.

The first time Max met Billy she thought he was super cool because he had an earring.

Max really hoped Billy would be a good brother to her 😢

Billy's car smells like hairspray and cigarettes. That tracks lol

Max's dad sounds super cool, but I can understand why Susan divorced him. He was into some kinda shady shit.

Billy's never been in a serious relationship. He dated a different girl every week, but seemed pretty disdainful of them all. -- "It was like he hated them, except he still took them up to the Sunset Cliffs to make out." Though honestly, it seems like Billy's just disdainful of everyone.

Once Billy got in trouble with the cops for trespassing at a construction site with his friends and Neil gave him the choice of losing his car for two months or signing up for junior ROTC and Billy willingly gave up his car.

Like Tommy, the main reason Billy hung out with his "friends" in California was because they basically just did whatever he said.

After Tina's Halloween party, Neil went off on Billy when he got home for not picking up Max after trick or treating (plus coming back drunk/high). Max left the room, but could still hear Neil hitting Billy. She tries not to care, but she still does. 🥲

Billy canonically works on his own car 🥵

Once Billy Max a cigarette after she told him smoking was bad for him. Susan caught them and went off on Billy, though he thought it was funny. However when Neil got home, asking what was going on, Susan lied, telling him it was nothing. Max had expected her to rat Billy out, but she didn’t. It was then than she realized that her mom wasn’t afraid of Billy, that she was afraid for him.

The first time Max had seen Neil actually hit Billy was after he’d gotten a speeding ticket. Her mom left the room and Max half expected Neil to stop when he realized that Max was still there, but when he took off his belt to use it, Max yelled at him to stop.

Neil only used her outburst to taunt Billy, saying he was weak and needed a girl to stand up for him.

After it was over, Max asked if Billy was okay, but he turned on her, embarrassed that she’d seen, and told her to get away from him. That’s when Max’s illusion that the two of them were in this together was broken.

When Billy said “You know what happens when I get angry. I break things.” is a reference to him breaking Max’s friend Nate’s arm because Nate had stood up for Max.

Billy had said it was an accident, that he’d been showing the boy a wrestling move that went awry, and the adults believed him.

Afterwards, Max's friends avoided her.

When their parents decided to move to Hawkins, they gave a lot of excuses for why—a new start, to get Billy away from his bad friends, to give Max more room to run around and be active—but it was really because Billy was acting out so much and they didn’t know how else to control him.

When Neil and Susan told Max and Billy they were moving to Hawkins bc the bank gave Neil a transfer, Billy cornered Max later in the laundry room and grabbed her by the arm. He blamed her for the move, thinking she’d told them the real reason behind her friend’s broken arm. She denied it, but Billy didn’t believe her.

The day that Billy saw Max with Lucas at the arcade he backs over her skateboard with his car ‘on accident’ but she knows it was his punishment.

Neil tells them that Billy will have to drive her around from now on, though he’d basically been doing so already.

Max decides to try to run away to her dad again, this time from Indiana, but she needed a lot more money for a bus ticket. She asked her mom for some money to go clothes shopping and her mom believed her. However, after Lucas showed up at the house asking her to come with him, she decides to stay in Hawkins.

Overall, it was a good read, a little hard to read at times during the abuse scenes, but I appreciated the back story and the insight into the characters. I was kinda hoping however that there'd be more info about what happened after Max knocked Billy out with the tranquilizer.

[megxplryxb]

Truth or Dare

Steve finds out you kissed Billy Hargrove in a game of Truth or Dare and he's pissed!

Word count: 2.1k

Disclaimer: I do not own this gif and take no credit.

It was quiet as you walked the dimly lit streets back to Steve’s house after some random house party. There had been so many this summer that you didn’t know who was throwing them anymore or whose house you were even in. So far, it had been an enjoyable summer and by enjoyable you meant that no one had been murdered by supernatural creatures or been kidnapped by evil Russians. It had been nice to have a break from babysitting the younger teens that you spent so much of your time protecting and caring for. Not that you’d have it any other way now, they were like family and you barely remembered what life was like before you had met them. But you were grateful to have a night off to get drunk with your older friends. You had grown extremely close to Robin since Steve had introduced you to her back when he started working in Scoops Ahoy before the mall had been destroyed. Now, the three of you worked together at the video store and had been pretty much inseparable ever since.

You and Steve had just pushed a tipsy Robin through her bedroom window because unfortunately for her, she had a shift at Family Video tomorrow while you both had the day off. Once you knew she was safe inside her room you made your way along the roads again.

You were thankful for the slight breeze in the air because you were starting to feel a bit lightheaded from the alcohol you had consumed at the party. Small goosebumps began to appear on your arms as the air teased your bare skin. Usually by now, Steve would have offered his jacket to you but he hadn’t. He had been weird with you all night and you hadn’t said a word to each other since he was instructing you to grab Robin’s legs and shove her through her window. He was walking faster than usual, head down and jaw clenched. You wondered what was wrong because Steve was never cold to you, he would always hold your hand on walks home late at night because you were both well aware of the danger that often loomed over Hawkins. Not because you both had feelings for each other like Robin continuously suggested.

“Steve slow down!” You huffed trying to catch up with your friend but he continued to walk at the same pace.

“Keep up princess.” He muttered running a hand through his hair. “I’m in heels you asshole!” You spat as he slowed down and eventually walked towards you his eyes wide looking straight at you.  You stood your ground placing your hands on your hips as you waited for his response.

“Did you just call me an asshole?” He questioned raising an eyebrow as you nodded a yes. “Yeah because you’re acting like one Harrington.” You argued as the space between you grew smaller.

“I thought you dug assholes though?” Steve smirked smugly walking away again kicking a rock underneath him, as you finally realised why he was pissed with you. Shit.

“Steve….”

“BILLY FUCKING HARGROVE! OF ALL FUCKING PEOPLE!” He yelled throwing his hands in the air, no longer being able to keep his anger to himself. You froze in shock, mouth open, eyes wide in disbelief that Steve Harrington was actually shouting at you in the middle of the road because you had made out with Billy Hargrove at the party in a game of truth or dare. Yes, you knew that Steve wasn’t exactly Billy’s biggest fan but you didn’t expect him to react this badly.

“It was a game Steve…relax.” You sighed as he continued to roll his eyes at you. “You didn’t have to fucking do it.”

“I picked dare, that was my dare!” You fought back. “You could have picked truth and not had to kiss anyone!” Steve argued as you shook your head noting how childish your friend was being. It’s not like you had a thing for Billy, hell you didn’t like him all that much either but a dare was a dare and you weren’t one to back out. Besides, you were single, what was the big deal?

“I’m just shocked you took your eyes off of Nancy Wheeler long enough to see me kiss Billy.” You spat, silently cursing yourself for how petty you were now sounding. You don’t know why you brought it up but seeing Steve talk to Nancy earlier had stirred something inside you and you weren’t sure what it was.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked as you laughed. “Oh please, you were with Nancy all night, practically left Robin and I at the front door when you saw her. “

“I did not.”

“Whatever, Steve. Just admit it, you’re still in love with her.” You demanded as you got to Steve’s street. “I’m not in love with Nancy.” He denied shaking his head. You didn’t know why that made you feel slightly reassured. Why did it suddenly matter to you if Steve still loved Nancy? It wasn’t your business anyway.

“Sure you’re not.” You sighed sarcastically.

“You almost sound jealous.” Steve challenged as you stood still, trying to take in what he had just said. Did he just call you jealous?

“Excuse me? You’re calling me jealous when you’re literally freaking out at me for kissing Billy in a game of truth or dare!”

“Oh, you think I’m jealous?” He snickered, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know, are you?” You shrugged.

“Don’t flatter yourself princess. I’m not interested in Billy Hargrove’s leftovers.” He spat harshly at you as you felt a pain go straight through your heart. The comment had hurt, more than you were willing to show and Steve knew from the look on your face that he had taken it too far.

“Wow. That didn’t take long, a couple of hours hanging out with Nancy Wheeler and “King Steve” is back.” You teased sarcastically. He lowered his head, full of guilt for the way he had spoken to you.

“Sweetheart I didn’t mean…”

“Goodnight Steve.” You choked, turning on your heels and walking away from your friend and in to the night.

“Where are you going?” He yelled as you continued on your way. You were supposed to be staying with him, like you did every night there was a party.

 “Home, or maybe I’ll swing by Billy’s house to finish what we started earlier.” You replied as Steve watched you walk away in to the distance. He wanted so badly to follow you but he knew better in the mood you were in. He cursed himself for hurting you with his words, you didn’t deserve it and he didn’t mean it. But seeing Billy kiss you at the party hit a nerve and it woke something inside of him. Nancy had seen the look on Steve’s face the moment he saw you and Billy in a lip lock and reminding him it was a game did little to calm Steve down so Nancy begged Jonathan to take him outside for a while.

Steve climbed his dark staircase, not bothering to turn on lights or undress as he made his way to his bedroom. He closed his door, turning on the radio and throwing himself on to his bed, cursing in frustration. He wanted to call you, to call Robin and ask for advice on how to make it up to you but he knew Robin was passed out and even if she did answer, she’d only yell at him for upsetting you in the first place.

He rubbed his hands over his face, kicking himself for acting the way he had. Steve had no right to be mad at you, he had no claim to you either, you weren’t his girl after all. So why were you bothering him so much? Was it because it was Billy you had kissed? No. Because, truthfully, Steve didn’t like any guy that wasn’t him giving you attention. He hated when customers would flirt with you in work, invite you over to watch a horror movie with them or when Keith would “accidentally” brush past you while you were stacking the newest movies on the shelves in your denim shorts on those hot July days. He wanted to punch any guy that came near you because they weren’t good enough for you. But Steve was starting to realise that what he really meant by that was that those guys weren’t him and he wanted you all to himself.

“Fuck!” He muttered, jumping up from his bed and running down the stairs towards the front door at the sudden realisation of his feelings.

You tossed and turned angrily in your bed, cursing your lack of sleep on Steve Harrington. You were still shocked at his sudden outburst and even more upset at how hurtful he was towards you. You had never seen Steve so angry at you in all of your years of friendship and wondered where it had come from. Was he really that upset about Billy? Surely he knew you well enough to know that Billy Hargrove was not your type. He was not even in the ballpark of what your type was. Why did it matter to Steve anyway? What right did he have to lecture you on who you could and couldn’t kiss?

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. So instead of lying in your bed any longer you decided to go back and confront Steve. You rummaged in your closet for a jacket to throw over your pyjama shorts and threw on your converse while pulling back your curtains to climb out  of your bedroom window.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shrieked as Steve threw his hand over your mouth. “Shh, it’s just me.” He said placing a finger over his lips, climbing in to your room like he did so often.

“What are you doing here Steve?” You asked crossing your arms.  “I came to see you obviously. Were you going somewhere?” He questioned pointing to your converse.

“I was actually.” You admitted as he grinned.

“Going back for round two with Hargrove?” He joked while you glared at him. “As tempting as that was, I was actually heading to give you a piece of my mind.”

“Saved you a trip then.” Steve said smiling at you for the first time all night. You knew he was trying to apologise but you were too pissed to hear him out.

“Look Harrington, not that I should have to explain any of this to you but I didn’t want to kiss Billy okay? It was a dare and you know I always pick dare because truth’s are boring and it was either him or Tommy so I picked Billy and I don’t back out of dares and who the hell are you to tell me who I can and can’t make out with?” You tried to continue with your rant but Steve interrupted you.

“I know, I’m sorry, you were right I was jealous.” Steve confessed leaning against your closet, hands in his Levi pockets as your eyes widened in shock.

“What did you say?” You asked not sure you had heard your friend right.

“I was jealous alright? Jealous that Billy was kissing you when I wanted to be the one kissing you.”

“Really, you were jealous?” You grinned as he rolled his eyes seeing that you were enjoying this moment a little too much. “Like you weren’t jealous that Nancy was talking to me.”

“I was not.” You huffed.

“Sweetheart, you were practically green!” He teased.

“Steve, I am not jealous of Nancy fucking Wheeler! Just because I don’t like someone doesn’t mean I’m jealous of them, you know I’ve never really liked her and she never really liked me because she hated that I was friends with you and maybe I used to wish that you would kiss me instead of Nancy Wheeler and maybe I wanted to kiss you instead of Billy tonight…” Steve cut you off although he was finding your little rant quite comical.

“Hey princess, truth or dare?”

“Steve, I am not in the fucking mood to play truth or…..” You managed to say before Steve’s lips finally found yours as he pinned you to the wall. He cupped your face with his hands as you slid yours around his neck to deepen the kiss. He bit your bottom lip lightly, begging for you to open your mouth and let him explore it with his tongue. You obliged happily as your fingers gripped the locks of his hair. The sounds coming from Steve were almost animalistic as he groaned in to your mouth.

“I don’t remember picking dare.” You tease as he smiled in to your neck, moving to the bed.

“Hey, you’re the one that said you always pick dare and don’t back out of them. I just took a bit of a shortcut to get us here faster.” He smiled as you cuddled in to him, finally where you both wanted to be.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

summer blush

pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader

wc: 1.9K

warnings: nothing, can't remember if there's cursing.

summary: pool days and future dates

A/N: WE DESERVED LIFEGUARD STEVE WHY DID BILLY GET THAT ROLE!!!!!!! but I know we got scoops steve, but still!!!!

masterlist / steve harrington

everyone was at hawkins community pool if they didn’t have one sitting in their backyard. the weather was in the high nineties with a slight breeze to cool you off if you were laying out tanning. the dozens of kids were splashing and squealing in glee, screaming as they played marco polo or sharks and minnows. many parents trusted the lifeguards to do their job so they indulged in their books or gossiping with friends.

the lounger reclined at an angle, one leg bent and the other straight. loose shirt and swim shorts as your attire accessorized with sunglasses and a baseball cap to shade your face from the harsh sunlight as you read your book.

a high-pitched yell of your name drew your attention. tilting the book towards your chest you saw your neighbor lucas rushing your way. his running was put to a stop when a lifeguard blew their whistle and yelled no running. you saw a few other kids a little behind, three boys and two girls. 

“going for a swim, sinclair?” eyes squinting behind your glasses.

he rolled his eyes and pointed towards his swim trunks, “duh. gonna spend the next few hours getting pruney. oh, also my mom wanted me to ask if you were free on the twelfth.”

one of the boys called his name and lucas told him he was coming before turning back to you. “uh, as of right now i’m an open book. does she need a babysitter?”

“yeah. my parents have a date planned so they need someone to watch us.”

you nodded your head, “well i’ll be happy to babysit. just have her call me when you get home. now go have some summer fun, your friends are getting antsy.” the tweens being all dramatic from their spots close by.

lucas waved goodbye before talking with his friends and then they all threw themselves into the chlorine-heavy pool. the two girls were a step behind with shrieks that carried until they were submerged.

you watched their playful fighting for a bit with a gentle smile on your lips. how lucas would dunk his friend with sopping curly hair underwater or the redhead would slap water at the byers kid. the other girl with shoulder-length hair was just walking around the shallow end with an enormous smile.

deciding to turn back to your book, your eyes took a sweep of the crowded pool and they managed to catch a lifeguard chair change. a girl in the uniform-issued red one-piece was climbing down from the high chair as a boy leaned a hand against the legs. the two chatted for a moment before the girl waved goodbye and the boy climbed the steps and settled into the seat.

and when he was in perfect view you were able to make out the person you were ogling. steve harrington. steve harrington, who was dressed in only red swim trunks as he watched over the community pool. now your book doesn't seem so interesting.

you held the book at a normal height and used the book and sunglasses as your undercover ruse as you observed (stared) at steve. how he seemed comfortable in the uncomfortable high chair, one hand fiddling with the whistle that was sitting on his chest as his head moved around to get a full view. his hair looked naturally fluffy and curled, oh man.

you and steve were in the same graduating class but only had a handful of classes together in the four years of high school, and in only two was there conversation. he was more outgoing and friendly with most of the school population, while you had one friend, robin buckley, who stuck to the shadows and books. and even though you hid in the shadows, that harrington charm always shined brightly no matter what. so yeah, you weren’t unaffected by him, you just made sure not to act like an idiot when he was around.

wishing you had the balls to walk up confidently and start an effortless conversation, you just groaned as you leaned your head back and laid the book on your sunscreen thighs. you don’t even know what he likes, not like you could chat about the weather for twenty minutes before it dies out. “so… this weather….” “yeah, pretty warm. brings everyone out of their houses.” that’s so stupid!

you know what, forget about it. push steve from your mind. push lovely steve harrington from your mind and focus back on your fantasy novel. you did set a goal of reading through the stacks of books you’ve bought over the months. you look through your bag and grab your wallet before pushing off the flimsy lounge chair and heading to the vending machine for a snack.

you look at the different selections of chips and press in c7, your second favorite chips dropping down. you pushed the flap open and managed to grab the goods without twisting your wrist. you looked to the concessions booth and debated if you wanted to pay three fifty for a slushy.

“hey.” you heard someone call but you didn’t think they were calling for you since it didn’t sound like any of the younger kids. head tilting side to side in a silent debate before it came again this time followed by your last name.

you felt like an idiot when you looked over your shoulders to find the source but couldn’t so you turned forward again, which caused the mystery person to say your name once again followed by, “it’s steve, dummy.”

that made you turn around real quick with your brows raised and hands sat on your hips, chip bag crinkling. “what’s with the nickname, mr. lifeguard? i’m a customer minding their business.” sarcasm hiding the curiosity of why steve was suddenly calling for you.

he was twisted in the high chair, one knee up and poking through the hole for the armrest with his arms folded on the top and his chin digging into his golden forearms. his sunglasses pushed to his hair showing his face off without obstruction, though his eyes were squinting against the beating sun. he had a smirk to his mouth and, oh your insides melted.

“i am so sorry to be disturbing,” the sarcasm twisted in his words, “but i was wondering if you’d be willing to buy me a cherry slushy. for a fellow mrs. fray senior english class student.”

lips parting in slight shock, “you…you remember me?” body language changing from defense to sheepish. you meant to say those words in your head only, not aloud where he could make fun of you.

his eyes unsquinted just a bit and you were able to see the smirk fall away and genuine confusion settle in. “why wouldn’t i? i sat next to you all year. and what a lovely view to get me through that boring class.” a flirtatious tone singing through the words. 

now you are standing frozen. was he…flirting? was steve flirting with you? when you felt sweaty and didn’t look put together, baggy shirt and hair pushed under a baseball cap. there was no way, right?

“well…i do remember you staring a lot. just thought i was blocking the window view.” trying to flirt, swing and a miss in your head.

steve chuckled. deep and boyish over the volume of the occupants. “nah, view outside wasn’t worth my time.” a cheeky smirk and, oh yeah. he was flirting.

“anyway. would you still be willing to buy that cherry slushy for me? kinda dying of thirst and heat over here.” his body that wasn’t shaded by the umbrella was highlighted bright with the sun. mind traversing to the knowledge he might develop more freckles over his skin and how you wished to chart them like constellations in the night sky.

you looked to the booth and back to steve, working yourself up to try a hand at flirting again. you took four steps closer to the white chair, head tilted up while steve stared down. “would i get anything back in exchange? since, you know, i’m paying with my own money.” hoping he doesn’t say something that billy hargrove wolf whistles at.

steve smiled with his teeth biting into his bottom lip. his head moved just a bit to the side and his eyes squinting a bit harder, you were glad to see his whole face, but you wished to just slide his black sunglasses over his honey-brown eyes. he looked to be debating something for a moment and then he shifted around to climb to the hot cement floor. he stopped just in front of you, right side of his body leaning into the chip painted wood. he was messing around with his red whistle and your skin produced goosebumps from the way his eyes roamed over your face and trailed down your body then back up.

“well, a slushy is only three fifty, so what i’m gonna suggest is overpriced. but if you're willing to spare some change, i would be happy to take you…” he stopped for a moment, almost seeming nervous before he got his confidence back. “…to take you on a date. movie and dinner, all on me.”

you almost dropped your chips and wallet due to the words that left his mouth. “you’re…this is a joke right? some prank?” self-conscious defense going up.

steve pushed himself into an upright position, hands shaking in front of him with urgency on his face and in his words. “what? no, no! i- i genuinely want to- i’ve wanted to ask you for a while!” words rushed and grumbled.

you were shocked for the third time today. steve harrington wanted to take you on a date. and for a while. “really?” the voice is almost meek.

steve rubbed the back of his neck and you weren’t sure if that was sunburn or blush on his cheeks. “yeah…i know i seem…good at getting dates. but when it comes to someone i like…i can get tongue-tied.” fingers messing around with the back of his hair.

you couldn’t help the teasing smile, “oh…steve harrington gets flustered by his crushes? didn’t realize we reverted to middle school.”

he rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway. “yeah, yeah. now for the third time, can you buy me a slushy? and would you like to go on a date with me? saturday at seven?”

there was a whistle and the call for steve to get back in his chair. he didn’t turn around or anything, he stayed trained on you with pleading eyes and a nervous smile. you didn’t bother keeping the boy waiting any longer, butterflies fluttering in your belly.

“i’ll get you that slushy. and then i’ll tell you my decision. so, best you get back to your job before you get fired.” taking steps backward then turning on the balls of your feet.

you felt his eye on your back the whole time as you ordered and waited for the drinks. with the two in hand along with your chips, you walked to steve already having your mind made up. you held his cherry slushy up high and he grabbed it with a “thank you.” his fingers brushing your knuckles.

“so, yes or no? hurts to keep a guy waiting.” a fake pout to his lips. you took a sip of your icy beverage and then counted to five. “what movie?”

“the goonies. heard from a birdie you’ve been waiting to see that one.” that just solidified your answer. “food before or after? and where?”

steve took his sip and then answered, “whichever and wherever you prefer.” 

you tapped your flip-flop foot and took a few more sips. “seven works. benny’s before and then goonies. maybe milkshakes after. sounds good?”

he smiled down at you, teeth shining in the light and lips turning a bit red. “sounds perfect. can i have your address?”

you began to walk back to your lounge chair, calling over your shoulder, “use the phone book, harrington! very useful information.”

-

[miheartsedthings]

good morning, with billy !

Lovely ~ @billysbot

Thanks for being patient while I worked on this. It's kinda angsty, but ends on fluff. Hope you like it!

Words: ~ 3,000

SFW Billy x Reader

Summary: Billy moves back to California with scars and unfinished business with you. He shows up to a party you're throwing. As usual, the two of you are the last ones awake, and it's finally time to settle your childhood beef.

Warnings: Aggressive behavior, angst, Mind Flayer, fluff

Billy’s been home a few months already. He has a job at his buddy’s surf shop and an apartment Susan insisted on putting him up in. What he doesn't have is the nerve to call you. The events at Star Court left him changed, and as he sat in the hospital through graduation, he couldn’t stop thinking about the road that had led him there. All the anger and resentment he’d brought with him to Hawkins, all the ways those negative emotions had torn through him, bringing out the very worst. Sure, some of it had been that monster, but there was plenty of darkness for it to feed on. Wrath he’d cultivated and thrived on. The Flayer had only taken advantage, turned it on him so he could feel it just as harshly as he inflicted it on others.

Steve, Nancy, and the kids all regarded him differently. With reverence and a little weariness. They had never trusted him, and now they never would. The only exception to this was Max. After the Mind Flayer was gone, she treated Billy like a brother, and in his injured state, he was in no position to refuse it. She visited him in the hospital, with food, and mixtapes she'd made of new songs coming out. He was grateful for her, happy the rest of them were alive. But he needed to get away. 

Hawkins was a different place in the wake of that nightmare. Every shadow filled with movement, every sound insidious. Even the buildings themselves were strange. Besides, he was shaken, and there was no more energy for keg stands and ripping around town in the Camaro. He needed to rest in a place that felt safe. To rediscover the person he’d been before Hawkins, before his mom’s desertion. He needed to go home.  

As soon as he was well enough, he packed up the Camaro and took off, bound for California. Max refused to cry but he could tell she was sad. It was wild for Billy to think his little brat of a step-sister would miss him. Back in Cali, the scenery was brighter, but Billy was flooded with memories of his childhood; days that were full to the brim with you. 

The two of you met as kids, taking swimming lessons at the local pool. You were partnered up one day and from then on you were inseparable. You went to different schools, which didn't stop you from meeting every weekend to go swimming or hit the arcade or the movie theater. You spent Summer days riding your bikes around town trying to find trouble. He was the person you'd talk to when you fought with your girlfriends. Your house was where he ran when things got hard with his dad. You were best friends until the day his mom disappeared. 

It was your junior year of high school. You'd watched each other change and grown attached to each other's company. Even though you'd both dated and cared for other people, you'd never felt for anyone else the way you felt about each other. The line between friendship and love was so thin the slightest pressure could’ve broken it. You thought you’d have the courage to confess your feelings that summer before senior year. Then, one day, he didn't wanna talk to you anymore.

“Are you kidding?” 

You sat there on your bike, watching him flick a lighter over and over just to see the flame spring to life before letting it extinguish. All you knew was that his mom was gone, not how, or when or why. 

“You're really not gonna tell me what happened?”

He sat on his porch steps, his face etched into a frown. He was acting tough but you could tell he'd been crying. When his eyes lifted to yours you expected they would soften like usual, but he glared at you. 

“Hello?” You called. 

He looked away. That's when you hopped off your bike, letting it fall in the grass, and snatched for the lighter. He shoved you away. You landed hard on your wrist, an instant burst of pain making you cry out. Usually when you horsed around and one of you got hurt, the other would snap out of it. Apologize. He just stood there on the porch steps, glaring down at you. 

“Don't act like you care.” He sneered.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He turned to walk inside and something desperate let loose inside you. The need to reverse whatever was happening by whatever means necessary. 

“William.”

He stopped in his tracks. 

Slowly, he turned, his eyes full of ice. For a moment you thought good, I have his attention. Then, he came down the steps and grabbed you by your injured wrist, yanking you to your feet. It didn't seem to matter that he was hurting you. He got in your face, glaring with such coldness. 

“Don't you ever. EVER fucking call me that.” 

His eyes were stone, his lips pinched into a tight line, and for the first time in your life, you were afraid of him. You felt yourself shrinking away, and when he let you go you stumbled back, tripped over your bike, and landed hard on the sidewalk. 

The boy you'd grown up with was gone, and in his place was someone too full of anger to get close to. He was a burning sun. 

The two of you stopped speaking. 

A couple of weeks later you heard a rumor he was moving, and then he was gone. 

Billy has looked back on the day he pushed you so many times. Every time he remembers the look on your face, all that pain and confusion, it fills him with regret. He wanted more than anything to call you and apologize, but every time he picked up the phone he found himself frozen, just staring at it. What would he say? How could he explain? In the end, he heard from one of his old buddies that you were throwing a party, and he resolved to be there. He'd say what he needed to say. One way or another. 

“Happy Youcla?”

Piper makes a face looking at the banner Tracy made, and Tracy makes a face back. 

“You-C-LA. It's like, an acronym. For UCLA?” 

“Okay. Why?” Piper asks. 

“It's fine,” you interject before the two can start fighting again, “It's cute. It's unique, Trac, I love it.” 

Your friend group is…eclectic, and only on special occasions do they tolerate each other for your benefit. Your college going-away party is just the thing to bring them all together for one night. Which didn't stop it from being nerve-wracking. The house is yours for one more weekend, your parents away on a strategically planned vacation, giving you space for one final iconic L/N bash. Your friends have pulled out all the stops, decorating, sourcing booze and grass, one of them even offering to DJ. 

The party is going well, friends from high school plus some people you’ve never even met crowd into the house, sitting along the stairs and standing in the halls. Filling the house with noise and laughter. You quickly get lost in it, drinking and dancing. Your head is empty until Billy walks in. 

He takes you completely by surprise. You recognize his face, of course (who could forget that face?) but the rest of him is a shock. Growing up, both of you were a couple of dorks. Your mothers dressed the two of you in corduroy and plaid. Matching Mickey Mouse sweatshirts. Now he's wearing denim and leather, putting a cigarette out in an abandoned solo cup. His chest is clearly bulky under his red button-up, and he saunters through the foyer with an undeniable magnetism that draws dozens of eyes. 

He's fucking hot.

His eyes scan the crowd, and then he sees you. He pauses mid-stride and stares at you for a long moment, a little smirk curling his lips. You turn away, your whole body flushing hot. God damn. Your childhood bestie is a certified smokin'-hot baddie. When you glance back he's flanked by a few of your friends who didn't grow up around here. He gives them well-meaning smiles, but his eyes come back to yours, making you look away again. 

Fuck.

You thought you'd be ready when B-boy came back, but you can hardly stand his gaze. You didn't expect he'd be this fuckin fine. You’d always found him cute, but it was nothing like this! Now, he's being mobbed by girls the second he enters a party. You find yourself wondering how you look compared to your old self. Billy used to tease you about your looks, and now here he is. You move around the corner into the living room, taking another long drink to take your mind off things. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Piper says, coming into the living room with you. “Is that B-boy Hargrove?”

You make a weak, anxious noise and drain your cup, your body buzzing. 

“Holy shit.” Piper continues “He’s a fuckin smoke show.”

You have to buy yourself time to figure out how to talk to him without losing your mind. What on Earth would you even say? You spend the night dodging him. Luckily, everyone's eager for his ear and keep flocking to him, flooding him with questions. You’re sure he hates it, the smell of desperation always annoyed him, but you aren’t ready. Your wrist had been sprained that day and ever since it tends to ache when you’re upset, as you are now. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and old bitterness is filling your throat. 

At some point, you're heading into the garage for more beer, and just as you're opening the extra fridge the door to the house opens and there he is. Billy stands there looking you up and down. Your body is warm and you're full of nerves. 

“Hey.” You manage. You clear your throat and grab the six pack you'd come for. “I don't know why everyone insists on these being ice cold.” You say, at a loss for words. At least, words that make any sense. “I mean, of course, you don't want warm beer but it gives you a damn brain freeze sometimes.” 

He's standing there stone-faced, looking at you so seriously you wonder if he's come with bad news. 

“We should talk.”

Your breath catches in your lungs, staying there for a moment. 

“About what?” You shrug, panicking. 

Of all the ways you thought you'd react to Billy coming home, you didn't think it'd be like this. At the moment, all you want is to scramble away from him. Escape the tangle of emotions welling up inside you. The anger you thought you’d let go of, and the sadness underneath it. He’d thrown you away. There's so much you wanna say to him. Too much.

“Ya know, we were kids, B. It's whatever. I gotta get this beer inside, though.” 

You approach him, hoping he'll move, and when he doesn't you're forced to confront the reality of how he looks. He’s fucking beautiful, and he’s looking at you like he wants to say something. You're right in front of him and memories are flooding you, rushing around in a whirlpool. 

The time the two of you hid in the mall until it closed, or hacked one of the PAC Man games at the arcade and used the bounty of quarters to go hog wild in the candy store. The night you had your first kiss stolen by some jerk at summer camp and Billy kept ranting about finding the guy and beating him up for you. 

His desire to defend you had put you at ease. 

“You're a babe now, but you're still a chicken.” He says with a smirk. 

“You're one to talk.” 

You brush past him, successfully avoiding him for the rest of the night. 

The house is quiet and littered with abandoned cups. Here and there things are where they shouldn’t be; a throw pillow on the stairs, a desk lamp in the bathroom. It’s so close to sunrise and you’re so tired, but you can’t sleep. You can never sleep after a party. So you go downstairs, finally leaving your room where you’d been hiding out (crying), and make your way to the living room. Someone left the TV on, and Singin' in the Rain is playing at a low volume. Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O’Connor are tapping through the opening number. You pull a throw blanket from the floor and wrap it around yourself. Just as you’re getting comfortable on the couch, you hear rustling in the kitchen. Billy emerges with a coffee mug. 

You both pause, and he leans against the archway, looking as comfortable as ever. Like he belongs there in your home.

“Can’t sleep.” he says.

You're too tired to scurry away and let him sit beside you.

“Since when do you drink coffee?”

“They gave it to me all the time at the hospital.” 

This gets your attention.

“You got hurt?”

“It's a long story.” 

The two of you sit side by side, falling into a comfortable silence. His presence beside you is warm and familiar. 

“You’re different.” he says. 

“Yeah well, so are you. Ladies man now.”

He smirks a real cocky little grin that doesn’t last. It melts away while he’s looking into the mug, and it's replaced with a forlorn expression. He’s nervous. You can always tell when he’s nervous.

“For a while, I thought I’d never see you again," you say. 

His grip tightens around the cup. It’s the novelty mug you got from Virginia Beach the summer you turned 12. A vacation you'd shared with Billy and his parents. 

“How was Indiana, anyway?”

He groans, leaning back against the couch. 

“A fuckin nightmare. And I mean that in so many ways, when I tell you about all the shit…” 

He looks at you, his eyes groggy from alcohol and lack of sleep. 

“It was like that time I got stuck in the Devil's Mansion at the county fair.”

You nod at the memory.

“I remember. You freaked out, and started breaking all the puppets.” 

His eyes are clouded with memories, and the kind of fear you haven’t seen in him in a long time. He’s come home haunted. Injured. Your heart beats hard in your chest. 

“There's so much I wanna tell you.” he says. 

“Just start by saying you're sorry.”

His blue eyes are the ones you recognize. 

“I am, Y/n. I think about that day all the time.” 

You look at him and see the boy you grew up with. 

“What happened?” 

He sighs, taking a beat to reach that tender place he hides away. It's hard for him, even with you. 

“She left. She just left that morning and she didn't say shit to me.” 

Your eyes tear up as he lets this out, replaying the day he’d hurt you. 

“But that didn't mean I had to take it out on you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay. 

“It kinda…you kinda fucked me up that day..."

Your voice is strained, feather fragile. He sets down the coffee and turns his body to face you, pulling his leg up on the couch so there’s only a small wedge of space between yourself and his lap. His face is tight, and he runs his hands into his hair the way he does when he's frustrated. 

“I know, I'm- I'm fuckin sorry, I…I've been thinking about all this shit lately. I've hurt a lot of people, and it all started that day. You were the first person and you didn't deserve it.” 

You can't help it anymore, you're swelled with emotions and the tears start coming. You wipe them on your sleeve. He looks so sad to see you cry, his face growing red. 

“Ya know,” you begin “My biggest fear for a while was that you'd never apologize, and we'd never go surfing on Lizard Island.” 

He laughed. It filled him with so much relief that you were the same sentimental weirdo he'd left over a year ago. 

“You forgive me?” He asked. 

Outside, the first rays of sunlight were peeking through, and on the screen, the trio tapped across a grand foyer singing ‘Good mornin’, good mooornin’!’ 

“Yeah, B,” you manage, your voice breaking “I forgave you a long time ago.” 

He smiles, and in the light of morning, it’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't stand it anymore, you lean over and kiss him and he pulls you into his arms, your body falling into his warm lap. He kisses you deeply, taking your lips and tongue in a greedy show of affection. 

The sweetest ‘Good Morning’ you’ve ever known. 

 

Thanks for the request! ~

[hendersister]

that's all

summary: steve is concerned when he finds out that you're going to start tutoring billy.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: that's all by genesis

You’ve just finished grabbing some books out of your locker before first period starts. You close your locker and turn to see Steve Harrington approaching you. Your eyes widen. What is he doing here?

Even though you and Steve had become friends while you helped save the world last fall, you both still mainly stick with your different cliques during school hours. Steve’s social status has gone down a bit over the past year, but he’s still popular. He just won “Best Hair” in his senior class superlatives. Steve is one of the cool kids and you definitely are not. As president of the National Honor Society, a tutor and only girl in the school’s Mathlete team, you are considered a nerd in the Hawkins High social hierarchy. It’s all very The Breakfast Club.

“Hey Steve! What’s going on? You lost?” you joke.

Steve’s locker is at the other side of the school. This is the first time Steve’s visited you at your locker.

“What? No!” Steve shakes his head, and then, “Hendseron told me that you’re gonna start tutoring Billy Hargrove. Is it true?”

You nod. The only reason you were assigned to be Billy’s tutor is because you’re the best tutor at this school. Billy is on academic probation and needs to get his grades up if he wants to play on the basketball team next season. In rural Indiana, high school basketball means everything. You didn’t really have a choice in the matter. If you said no, you mostly likely would’ve faced some repercussions. 

“Yeah. He was just assigned to me. We have our first tutoring session tomorrow during study hall,” you explain.

Steve sighs. He looks concerned.

“C’mon, Y/N, do you really think that’s a good idea? Billy’s an asshole. Remember when he got violent with the kids? I mean, Billy’s a piece of shit…” 

You take a deep breath. Remember when he got violent with the kids? Of course you remember! How could you forget? Billy attacked Dustin’s friend Lucas at the Byers’ house a few months ago. He was scary and aggressive. Steve had to intervene to protect Lucas and the rest of the kids. The fight between Billy and Steve was rough. Steve lost that fight but won your respect. You were impressed and proud of Steve for keeping the kids safe.

“Yeah I know,” you quietly agree, “It’s not like I asked to tutor Billy. Mr. Carpenter assigned him to me…”

“Can’t you just ask Mr. Carpenter to assign him to someone else?” Steve tries.

You shake your head.

“No,” you answer coolly, “But if it makes you feel any better, I’m meeting Billy in the library. He won’t get violent in a public place.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Steve mumbles. He sounds uneasy.

You roll your eyes.

“Relax! I’m just tutoring Billy. It’s not like we’re eloping to Vegas or anything.”

“I’m not joking, Y/N!” Steve shrugs.

“I’m not laughing, Steve,” you brush off his concern, “Why do you care so much?”

Steve scrunches his forehead, confused.

“What?” 

You cross your arms against your chest.

“Why do you care if I tutor Billy or not?” you question him.

“Dustin was worried,” Steve gives you a non-answer.

“And you?” you keep pushing.

“I’m… I’m just trying to look out for you because… Dustin asked me to,” Steve stumbles through his response.

You raise your eyebrows. 

“That’s all?” 

Steve is quiet for a beat. Deep down he knows the truth but he’s not ready to admit it to himself just yet. Steve really cares about you. He’s trying to convince you not to tutor Billy because he’s trying to protect you. Steve doesn’t trust Billy and he doesn’t want you to get hurt. 

"Yeah, yeah that's all," Steve sighs.

You shrug, unconvinced. Since becoming friends with Steve, you’ve felt a spark between you two. You’re starting to believe that Steve feels the electricity too. But he won’t act on it. He’s an athlete and you’re a mathlete. And even though Steve is set to graduate soon, he still takes the high school social hierarchy seriously.

“Look, I appreciate the concern but I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself just fine. I’ve been doing it for a long time now…” you tell him.

Steve nods his head, defeated. He leaves without another word. You watch Steve go. After a beat, you turn and walk away in the opposite direction.

[stevie-petey]

Hi M! I saw you mention that you felt bad for Billy because of that particular lack of a chance he got to prove himself to be a good person. And I definitely agree because even tho he was really cruel and horrible, the scene of his death still made many of us cry 🤧

Because of this, I thought of a tiny little angst blurb if you want to write it!

In your latest chapter of come home, it was mentioned that he tried finding bug because he didn’t know what was going on with him and why he was acting the way he was.

Do you think you could write that from his pov?

Thank you! 😁

this one is a challenge because ive never written billys pov but heres my very poor attempt lmao

enjoy !

"dude, are you alright?"

lights blind billy. a ringing in his ears nearly deafens him. his vision blurs and his teeth grind into sawdust. the taste of blood fills his mouth as he bites down on his tongue. he grips at the lifeguard stand, hardly able to stand himself.

theres a guy in front of him. billy thinks his name is alex, who eyes him wearily. alex clears his throat, tries again. "hey, uh. billy?"

billy. his name is billy. billy hargrove.

the metallic taste of blood coats his mouth. he tries to speak, words tumble from mouth like a slippery slope. he doesnt have control over them. he cant remember if hes supposed to breathe in or out when he speaks.

all billy knows is that theres a girl out there. someone told him to come find her of he ever needed anything. what was her name? it started with an h, two, maybe three syllables.

he loses his footing, almost falls against the stands wood, and alex takes a step back from him. hes scared of billy. did he do something? hes cold. his entire body is cold.

"you know what, im just... i'll just go." alex takes another step back. he pushes his glasses up stands awkwardly in front of billy. "y/n is probably waiting for me, anyways."

the hair on billys arms stand up.

y/n henderson. that had been the girls name.

sweetheart. billy calls you sweetheart. hawkins sweetheart. the one who extended help to him.

"where?" saliva mixed with blood follows billys question.

alexs eyes widen. "w-what?"

"where. is. y/n?" he needs to find you. its getting harder and harder to keep the blood inside his mouth. his guts twist within his stomach, billy thinks the cold that attacks his body is really white hot heat, searing his intestines and burning him from the inside.

you said you could help him.

billy doesnt know whats going on. darkness seeps into his brain. he cant think straight. the sunlight casts a blinding streak across his eyesight. is he dreaming?

"she... she should be waiting in her car." alex isnt sure if he should be telling billy this. youve always been weird when it came to the mention of the boy, but billys sweat drips onto the concrete and alex thinks he may be experiencing heatstroke.

he decides then that he should take billy to you. alex knows youll know what to do. you always do. the amount of times youve saved his ass at work is more than hes willing to admit, but alex holds a deep appreciation for you.

alex grabs billys arm to guide him towards the pools exit, but the skin is cold to the touch. he flinches, he doesnt understand whats wrong with the guy. hes drenched in sweat and yet ice cold.

billy doesnt register any of this. all he can feel is his body being moved somewhere. hes removed from it all. his body hasnt been his ever since the night he crashed his car.

theres something inside of billy. something more sinister than the anger his father left him. worse than the bruises and scars from his childhood. and billy is afraid.

it takes some maneuvering, alex has to stop and steady billy every few feet, but eventually they make it to the pools parking lot. only your car isnt there.

alex curses and looks down at his watch. its almost one in the afternoon. your shift at bookstrordinary shouldve ended thirty minutes ago. youre never late.

and yet you never show.

billy and alex stand in the parking lot for nearly an hour waiting for you. the sun blazes down upon their skin. billy nearly blacks out at one point, and alex doesnt know what to do.

then something seems to shift within billy. his back straightens, his eyes suddenly ignite, and the blue in his irises is gone. black now infiltrates, and alex nearly trips on the curb in his haste to get away from him.

billy sniffs the air in an animalistic way. alex watches.

theyre here.

the voice booms in billys mind. its gravelly, rough, it isnt human.

follow them. follow her.

billy turns and sees el walking across the street. shes coming towards the pool. she hasnt seen him yet. neither have the others. those goddamn kids and max.

max.

who is he again?

[billlydear]

pairing: billy hargrove x steve harrington / WC: 4501

summary: based on this post by @ariesbilly (i was anon), el shops rather creatively for billy's birthday and steve has some things to say about his new look

this will be crossposted on AO3 as soon as i've got the time to set up a new account there. i hope you enjoy, and please consider leaving some feedback! also, i've got a harringroveson spidey/venom au in the works, so please let me know if you'd like to see that :-)

Billy’s genuinely, truly concerned when Jim pulls him aside at his little birthday dinner, and not just because he’s still a tiny bit wary around the man. He hasn’t done anything awful yet, so far there’s not a bone in his body that resembles his dad’s, but Billy’s lived with Neil all his life, and Jim only a few months. He’s getting better, but he’s not there yet.

“Listen,” Jim murmurs, taking the hand he’d used to usher Billy into the kitchen off of his arm. Billy appreciates it, it’s like Jim knows he doesn’t like being grabbed; like he pays attention to Billy’s comfort.

“She’s come a long way,” Jim praises El, “-but gift giving for anyone but Max is… hard. She just shops for herself, it’s like-” Jim rubs an exasperated hand over the scruff on his chin, leaned up against the kitchen counter while Billy leans in slightly to hear his low voice, “It’s like she finds something she likes. And since she likes the person she’s giving it to, she equates the two. ‘Thinks that whatever she likes, they’ll like too. That’s why I drink out of that glittery cup every morning,” Jim gestures to the tumbler currently drying on the rack, ‘BFF’ written in white loopy letters on the plastic, “She’s got the spirit, just not the know-how. And I was really trying to get her to branch out for you, I took her to the mall but she beelined for Claire’s, and-” Jim sighs, shooting a cautious glance back to the living room where the girls are waiting with their gifts, “Just- please act like you like ‘em. If you want, I’ll give you the receipt, and you can return them for cash, just- humor her. Please.”

“Okay,” Is all Billy says, really all he can think of saying, and Jim reaches out to pat his bicep.

“Thanks,” His shoulders slump in relief, “Alright, birthday boy, let’s get going.”

Billy’s used to birthday gifts, but not nice ones. If he was lucky, he’d get gas money for the week from his dad, but that’s only because Susan insisted on acknowledging the day. Gifts have always been an obligation, never a gesture, so sitting on the couch in front of three tissue-paper-stuffed bags is a bit daunting for the man.

“Mine first,” Max demands, pushing her bag forward. Billy sends her what he hopes she perceives as a smile, a small twitch at the corners of his lips. They’ve gotten a lot better with each other now that Neil’s not goading Billy anymore, and Billy’s glad for it.

Inside there’s a gift card to a surf shop he’d worked at one summer back in California. He doesn’t even know if there’s anything on it - for all he knows, she found it in a box of his old stuff - but just seeing the logo of the place makes him nostalgic, and his barely-smile blooms into an unbridled one. The gift of memory is one he didn’t know he’d appreciate this much.

“Damn,” He huffs out a laugh, plucking the thin plastic out of the tissue, “Where’d you find this?”

“I wrote to my grandma,” Max confesses, “There’s 50 bucks on there, but for the record, all I sent her to put on there was 20.”

Billy remembers Max’s grandma; they’d visited her once. She was awesome, but the kind of awesome that made parents distrust her, and contact was lost after the move to Hawkins. The old lady had crammed Billy and Max into the back of her cluttered bug to get ice cream after Neil and Susan had gone to bed, and it was nice for Billy to hear she was still doing well.

“Thanks,” Billy laughs, almost a scoff as he reaches out to ruffle her hair. She pretends to hate it, maybe she does a little, but she lets him, which is like another birthday gift: Annoying Privileges.

He sees a flash of black as he puts the gift card back in the tissue, and it explains why the tiny plastic was wrapped so excessively.

Don’t show Hopper, the note reads, with an arrow down, so he discretely peels away the paper to find three cartons of cigarettes beneath it. He’ll worry about how she got them later, for now he shoots her a smirk that she returns.

“Alright, mine’s kinda-” Jim fumbles for his bag, “-tied into hers. Here, kid.”

The tissue crinkles under Billy’s fingers, and he peers down into the blue bag to see a paper.

He pulls it out, squinting at the fine print.

It’s a hotel booking. A hotel in California, shit, right by the beach.

“I already called you off of work,” Jim smiles at Billy, “It’s about a month from now. Only condition is you take the girls with you, they’ve got their own room and we’ll send ‘em with gas money.”

Max’s grin is bright, and Billy knows this is just as much of a gift for her as it is for him. His chest feels tight, like each word on the page had sucked air out of his lungs until there was none left, and now he’s struggling to breathe. He’s wanted to go back since the moment he left, but his dad never would have let him, and moving in with Jim and El then immediately fleeing the state seemed rude, so he’s grateful for the push. He doesn’t even know how to begin thanking Jim, so he starts with the words themselves.

“Thank you,” Billy croaks, trying not to let a gush of emotions overwhelm him. “Seriously, I-” His voice wavers and he clamps his mouth shut, looking down and pinching his fingers along the folded crease of the paper to thin it down even more, “Thank you, Jim.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jim reaches out again, gives him that little pat pat to the bicep instead of trying to hug him. Billy thinks just for that, he will let Jim hug him next time.

Once Billy’s regained his composure and only let one gruff sniffle slip, El is handing over her bag.

“Mine was not as much money as theirs,” She looks serious, like Billy’s going to backhand her for not renting them an RV for the trip, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Jim starts, ready to console her and teach her an etiquette lesson, but Billy lets out a weak chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it, El.” He tugs at the tissue paper, “One time I wrote I.O.U. on a piece of paper for Max’s birthday.”

El’s brows furrow at the unfamiliar phrase, and Max leans in, “It means I owe you, like, ‘I owe you one’. He didn’t get me anything.”

“I offered you something,” Billy gripes, pausing in his unwrapping efforts, “Not my fault you chucked it out.”

“Oh, no,” Max laughs, “I still have it. But I wasn’t gonna waste it on arcade tokens. I’m gonna make it count, you’re gonna bail me out of a bad party or lie to the cops about-”

She reconsiders, looking at Hopper who’s stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowed at her, “-Nothing. Lying to cops is bad.”

“Nice save,” Billy deadpans, ducking his head back down towards the bag. The tissue inside is messy, he can tell El did it herself. 

Beneath the first layer of tissue, the stuff crumpled up to give the present volume, there’s six individually wrapped packages. Billy’s stomach does a little flip; call it nerves, call it endearment, but whatever it is, he reaches for the first package without paying it any mind.

His fingers peel at the tape sticking it all together, and his strong grip rips the tissue. He goes with it, tearing into the gift, and a purple plastic card falls into his hand. It’s punched in two places near the middle, and inside each hole is an earring. They’re- not his style.

They’re studs, little balls of gel in rainbow colors with squishy spikes sticking out of them. They honestly look like something a kindergartener would make with a hot glue gun, but there’s an expectant smile on El’s face and Billy finds himself smiling back at her, genuinely so.

“Thanks, El,” He flips the package over, price tag ripped off messily and silver backings staring at him, “These are cool.”

“I know you like earrings. There’s more,” She prompts him, the section of her hair that she’s tied up bouncing as she leans forward enthusiastically, “Open them.”

“Okay,” He laughs, setting the earrings aside. The second package yields another pair, this time two pieces of bread with little smiley faces on them, one painted brown for peanut butter and the other purple for jelly.

“That’s cute,” Billy laughs breathily, “That’ll go good with my purple button up.”

“Mhm,” El nods, hair once again bouncing, “That’s what I thought.”

As Billy expects, each package contains a pair of earrings. He gets tiny springs, a gradient of pink to purple to blue covering the curved metal, and they look like they’d be permanently damaged if he stretched them out even once. Then a pair of jellyfish-inspired ones, a clay head with a smile on its face connected by metal rings to all of the tentacles dangling below. Next are lollipops, stiff sticks leading into plastic that’s swirled in design and shaped like a bear’s head with yet another smiley face. Each little black curve on the earrings’ faces only makes his own grow. The fifth pair are meant to look like goldfish, suspended in resin that fills the bowl to make it look like they’re swimming in water. It’s the most intricate pair of earrings he’s ever seen, he’ll give Claire that. The final pair is much bigger than the others, and when he unwraps it, a pom-pom sticks out.

They’re big puffballs, tie-dyed pink and purple, connected to a peace sign stud that goes through his ear. They’re obnoxious, something you’d only see on a child whose grandparents had bought the biggest pair of earrings they could find because their vision was too poor to appreciate any smaller designs. Nevertheless, Billy pops the squishy backing off of one of them, and sticks it between his teeth. He slips his own earring out of his ear, and tucks it into the breast pocket of the shirt he’s wearing. He sticks the puffball into his ear right then and there, and El’s grin is almost unbearably wide.

“It looks pretty,” She gushes, and Billy laughs.

“Thank you, El.” He gives her the obligatory brotherly hair ruffle as well, but she looks honored compared to Max’s exasperation. In leaning forwards to reach her, the metal point of the second earring digs into Billy’s palm where he’s holding the card still, and he glances down at it thoughtfully.

“Here,” He thinks fast, plucking the backing off of it and handing it to El, “Let’s match.”

She looks at it wide-eyed, caught off guard, “You want me to wear the other one?”

“Duh,” He nods, hand still outstretched, “How else are people gonna know who bought them for me?”

She’s more than happy to snatch the second earring from him, sliding it into her own pierced ear and shivering slightly at the feeling of the fluff brushing against her skin. 

“Alright,” Jim claps, a loud, striking sound, “You guys look great. Cake time?”

“Cake time,” Max agrees, already rising to her knees to stand and head for the kitchen, “Chocolate, Billy, your favorite.”

Billy’s all Thank you’d out. Not because he’s not thankful for this, because he’s more than that, but because he’s said it so many times today that the words are starting to lose their meaning, and he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be insincere, so he’ll save the ‘Thank you’s for when they really count.

Max and El settle on the floor in front of the tv to watch the movie they’ve picked out, clearly one that Jim hadn’t seen until now.

“Oh, not Terminator,” He reaches for the television to shut it off, but both girls scramble to fight him off, “It’s rated R, girls!”

“It’s Billy’s favorite,” Max huffs, and that’s not true, but he knows nothing in the movie will shock her, and El grew up being bounced around dimensions, so she probably won’t lose any sleep over a bit of blood.

“It’s true,” Billy drawls settling back on the couch with his cake and his beer (that Jim only reluctantly handed him because it’s his birthday), “But it’s fine, Jim, we don’t have to watch what I want, they can turn on My Little Pony or some shit.”

Jim wonders briefly how he’s been outsmarted by two tweens and a teenager. If he says no, he’s the asshole that ruins Billy’s birthday. If he says yes, the girls are going to see gratuitous shots of naked Arnold Schwarzenegger that he’d rather them not witness.

“You cover your eyes for the first scene,” Jim finally concedes, narrowing his eyes at Max and El, “I mean it, no peeking or I’ll do it for you.”

“Okay,” They agree, already far too amused for Jim’s liking, and Max turns to grin mischievously at Billy. It’s nice, he thinks, to do dumb shit with her. Like real siblings.

The movie starts, and Jim’s a bit too preoccupied eagle-eyeing the girls to make sure they’re not seeing anything raunchy to notice that Billy’s paying more attention than he ought to be. But once the man straightens back up so does Billy, mentally so, and turns his attention to Jim when he leans over towards Billy.

“Hey,” Jim’s whisper is gruff, but El doesn’t hear, “Thanks for that. She’s really happy.”

“No problem,” Billy admits, “They’re… different, but they’re kinda cool.”

Jim laughs, and Billy gets the sense that Jim doesn’t think he’s being sincere, but really, he is. The earrings themselves aren’t kinda cool, a year ago he’d rather have pitched himself into the quarry than wear rainbow-colored springs dangling from his ears, or a smiley piece of peanut butter toast, but what’s kinda cool is that someone gave them to him because they thought he’d like them; because they like him. 

What’s kinda cool is love, Billy figures out that night, and his cake tastes a little sweeter because of it.

--

El doesn’t usually accompany Billy to work at the auto shop, but that’s only because he leaves too early for her to be awake yet. She’s recently discovered sleeping in, and sometimes she’s not awake before two in the afternoon. Now, though, she’s bursting with excitement for the California trip, even though it’s not for another month. Billy hadn’t slept with the puffball earring in, but he’d put it right back on this morning, and so had El. They’re sitting behind the counter now, planning an itinerary for the trip he’s not too stressed about, because he knows El will lose the paper before they leave in a month.

“And we have to go to In-n-Out,” She decides, “I know those are in California.”

“Yeah,” Billy laughs, “They’re not that good. I mean, I like ‘em, but there’s good burger places everywhere. They have these palm trees though,” He moves  his hands to cross over each other, “They cross like an ‘x’, it’s pretty cool. My friend tried to climb one once, we got kicked out.”

El giggles, and her eyes wrinkle at the corners with the expression. Billy likes it, he wonders if his own eyes scrunch when he laughs. But he doesn’t do it very often, and especially not in front of a mirror, so he might never know.

She excuses herself to go to the bathroom, so Billy turns his attention to their customer log instead. There’s a man coming by in two hours to pick up his car, but the repairs are complete, so Billy doesn’t have to do anything about it. And there’s another customer coming at five for an oil change, but it’s only eight in the morning. He hears the scrape of wheels on gravel, and he cranes his neck to see over the reception desk and out the door.

Fuck. It’s a red beemer, one he knows almost better than his own car because of how frequently he’d crammed his camaro in beside it in the high school parking lot. It’s Steve Harrington’s car, and that means Steve Harrington came with it.

Billy tugs on the hem of his tank, tightening the shirt over his chest. It’s not that he wants to look good for Steve, it’s just- well, no, that’s it. The banter he’d shared with Steve over their time at Hawkins High was the most tension he’d felt in his entire life, and it came at a time when he sought thrill and excitement the most; apparently being sweat-covered, shirtless opponents on the basketball court does things to a man’s head. He’s not naive enough to think he’s gonna be able to sweep the guy off of his feet with one suave remark, not when just last week Max had somehow convinced the man to give her a ride back home from Jim’s place after a sleepover, and Steve had seen Billy bleary-eyed, messy-haired, and pajama-clad. He’d tried to own it, leaned back on the couch with his legs spread, one arm up on the back of the couch and exposed by the shirt he was wearing as he nodded with a lazy grin at Steve, ‘Morning, Harrington’. If he’d squinted, he could see a bit of pink coloring Steve’s cheeks. But a success or not, the experience was embarrassing, and he’s glad that he’s a little more put together today. 

Billy forgets just how put together he is today. He feels the soft brush of the fuzzy earring against his neck right as Steve starts towards the store, and his stomach drops.

He has a very important choice to make.

He can take the earring out, giving him a better chance at this coy little game they have going, and subsequently insult his new sister, or, he could leave it in, puff up his chest with pride, and greet Steve with confidence, ultimately risking his win.

He almost tears his ear from how hard he rips the earring out.

“Harrington,” Billy drawls, “Car trouble?”

“Battery’s dead,” The man huffs, and there’s sweat beading at Steve’s hairline, “I had to push’er down the street, I was getting groceries.”

Billy feels like a cartoon character; he almost audibly gulps at the thought of Steve muscling his car down the road. He wonders if Steve could see his Adam’s apple bobbing if he really did dry swallow. He wonders if Steve would watch.

“Tough luck,” Billy sends Steve a lazy grin, passing the sign-in book over the counter with a pen, “Just fill that out, I’ll get your service started.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbles, “Got an estimate?”

“Depends,” Billy shrugs, “I might do you a favor and replace those ugly seats you’ve got, too. That’ll cost extra.”

“Like your car’s hot shit,” Steve scoffs, but his tone isn’t demeaning, and Billy’s chest does that weird tight thing again when he realizes they’ve advanced to friendly banter, “Do you know how ugly that blue and yellow license plate looks against the blue of your car?”

He laughs, but before Billy can quip back, say that it’s California grade, that he’d rather die than replace it, the door to the back opens up, and El comes out.

“Steve!” She smiles sweetly, “Is your car broken?”

“Yeah,” He laments, eyeing her accessory, “Woah, crazy earring.”

“Billy has one, too.” She brags, then notices it’s missing from his ear. Billy’s stiffened where he’s rifling through the desk drawers for a form to give Steve, and before he can make any excuses, El spots the puffball where it’s fallen to the floor.

“Oh!” She lunges for it, handing it to Billy with a sweet smile, “It fell out. Here it is.”

Billy has another choice to make.

Scoff at her, say ‘nice one’, and tell her to put her earring back in. Or, take it from her and embarrass himself in front of Steve.

This time, he decides she’s ultimately more important.

“Thanks, El.” He grins at her, taking the puffball from her hand and hooking it expertly through his ear. It dangles against his neck, and he passes the form over to Steve who’s looking between the two of them with some sort of guarded amusement.

“Fill this out, too.” Billy instructs, “And I’ll start on your car.”

“O-kay,” Steve complies, more of that amusement painting his features as he ducks his head to fill out the form, “Pink looks good on you, Hargrove.”

Billy shuts the door to the back room as a response. He feels like punching the wall, because did that mean ‘good’ as in good? Or good as in ‘ridiculous’? He’s well aware Steve had a mean streak in high school, and Billy isn’t interested in being bullied.He’s never worried about being bullied by his peers before, he was always on top. Now it’s different, this isn’t high school and he doesn’t have backup boys to make his posse. It’s a one-on-one fight, and Steve’s got the advantage. And- and if it did mean good, what’s he supposed to do with that information? Wear a pink shirt the next time he sees Steve? Go as Pink Panther for halloween? He considers just about everything but dying his hair, mind swirling with possibilities.

He starts on Steve’s car to distract himself, and he barely manages to gather the courage to take his shirt off to push Steve’s beemer into the garage like he’d originally planned. He still does, of course. But it’s a hard decision to make.

--

“Steve,” El steps out from behind the counter, walking over to where Steve’s flipping through an old Highlights that Billy’s boss keeps there for kids, “What did you get Billy for his birthday?”

The man flounders, “Uh, when’s his birthday?”

El’s brows furrow, “It was yesterday. You didn’t get him anything?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head, “Sorry, El. I’m sure he didn’t expect me to, though, ‘probably didn’t hurt his feelings.”

“But friends give each other birthday presents.” She insists, “Why didn’t you?”

“He’s not my friend,” Steve grimaces slightly, but backtracks when El only gets more scandalized, “We- I… Ugh,’ He groans, rubbing a hand down his face, “We, like, hated each other in high school or something. I think he’s only nice to me now ‘cause he has to be, we’re all friendly, y’know?”

“Billy likes you,” El promises, “That’s why he comes out of his room when he knows you’re coming over. And why he always takes us to get ice cream. He likes seeing you.”

“Uh, I think-” Steve stammers, heart pounding so viciously he can hear it, “That’s probably… not what that means. Hey, um, do you have any water I could have? I’m really thirsty from pushing my car.”

He’s out from under her scrutinous gaze for long enough to compose himself, tamping down any hope she might have given him. It doesn’t help that he’s first heard Billy’s genuine laugh today, and the vision of the man’s bright eyes, scrunched and wrinkled at the corners have been plaguing him ever since. Things need to stop piling up, he decides.

When she gets back she sits in the chair beside him, one leg bent beneath her and the other firmly planted on the floor, “You should get him a birthday present.”

Steve hums, bringing the cup she hands him to his lips to buy him time to respond. Eventually, he settles on, “I’ll try to find something,” and she seems to like that answer, so she lets it go.

“I got him earrings,” She explains, and pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place in Steve’s head, “The ones that he’s wearing now. And five other pairs.”

“Wow,” Steve nods, feigning awe even though he knows Jim probably paid for them himself, “That was nice of you. He liked ‘em?”

“Yes,” She nods, “He likes earrings. And he said he’s going to wear them with me when we go to California.”

“California,” Steve echoes, brows raised, “That’s nice. When are you going?”

“In a month,” El recites, “Billy’s from California.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, eyes drawn to Billy’s framed employee picture on the wall, noticing the tan adorning the smooth skin of his handsome face, “I know.”

--

“Okay,” Billy turns to look at the girls in his backseat, bright smiles on both of their faces, “Gas money?” 

“Check,” Max slides him a wad of cash, and so does El.

“Snacks?” Billy pulls his wallet out, stuffing the bills inside.

“Check!” El takes over this time, a plastic bag in her hand that’s filled with enough ziploc bags of goldfish to last them halfway through the road trip. 

“Bags?” 

“Check,” Max jabs a thumb towards the camaro’s trunk, “We didn’t forget our suitcases, Billy.”

“If you did, and I hadn’t asked, you would have blamed me,” Billy narrows his eyes at his stepsister, “Don’t make me push you out of the moving car.”

What can he say: things are better, they’re not perfect. She knows he’s joking, though, she sticks out her tongue in response.

“I have one more thing,” El calls, effectively breaking up Billy and Max’s banter. The two look curiously at her, and she passes Billy an envelope, thick towards the bottom left corner.

“It’s a late birthday present.” She informs him, “Open it. It’s for the trip.”

“El,” Billy tears at the envelope with a confused furrow in his brow, “You got me stuff for my birthday. Why more?”

“It’s not from me,” She admits, “Just open it.”

The envelope was sealed well, by whoever sealed it. Billy all but mangles the paper to remove its contents, and when he does, a pair of earrings falls out, mounted on a purple plastic card. Claire’s.

There’s a pink and white striped surfboard on the left side, and a glitter-covered palm tree on the left. There’s a note inside too, and Billy peels it apart much more cautiously than he had the envelope.

Billy,

Happy birthday. Enjoy California.

- Steve

P.S: I wasn’t kidding. You look good in pink.

Billy nearly rips the earring card trying to wrench the surfboard off. Once he gets it out, he slides it into his ear, passing the palm tree back to El and grinning at the girls through his rear-view mirror. He admires the way that the earring looks against his tanned skin, and- oh, look at that; his eyes do scrunch when he smiles.

“Ready?” He raises a brow, sunglasses perched on his head and lost in his curls  in wait of the California sun.

“Ready,” They confirm, and El’s nod sends the palm tree earring swinging beside her face.

Billy revs the engine, and it’s never been a happier sound, “California, here we come.”

[madneedshelp]

Thrill of the Chase Part 2 - Billy Hargrove x FReader

Part One

Summary: Billy managed to score a date with you, and even won you over. However, getting the girl doesn’t always mean smooth sailing.

Includes: adult language, allusions to sex, angst, bullying

Yeah, you went out with Billy. A few times even. He might’ve been a pain in your ass, but then he became your boyfriend and a pain in your ass. Despite your best efforts, you’d fallen victim to his charms. 

The newness of it all hadn’t worn off. Not for you, not for the rest of Hawkins High. Though it had been a few weeks of dating, he’d only asked you to be his girlfriend on Saturday. Now it was Monday. News traveled fast in small towns, so you had no doubt most everyone already knew. 

Billy picked you up for school this morning, as per usual. Cheesy as it was, he’d given you his denim jacket that weekend and insisted you wear it to school Monday, and the look on his face as he saw you in it was priceless. He was smitten.

“Good morning, Hargrove.” You grinned as you climbed into the passenger seat and pecked him on the cheek. You spun in your seat and gave an equally friendly grin to the girl in the back. “Morning, Max.”

“Hey,” She smiled back. 

Though you’d only met them once, Billy’s family already seemed to like you. Well, Max and her mom did for sure. His dad was a bit colder, acting friendly but in a way that seemed slightly forced. 

Max had a good feeling about you. She’d noticed some subtle changes in the past weeks. Billy snapped at her a little less. He drove a little more carefully (not much, but a bit). She wasn’t sure what caused it all, but then Billy had you over for dinner on Saturday and introduced you as his girlfriend, and by the end of the evening she could tell that you were the catalyst of these improvements.

“Pick a tape, sweetheart.” Billy nodded toward the radio before pulling out of your driveway.

You put a hand to your chest in exaggerated surprise. “Me? In charge of the music? What an honor.” You chuckled as he huffed in annoyance and went about making your selection. 

A proud grin spread across his face as you pulled out Motley Crue’s Shout at the Devil and slid it in the radio. “A wise choice.”

“You really should have more faith in me. I have impeccable taste.” You grinned smugly. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re God’s gift to the world or whatever.” Billy rolled his eyes. His put-out attitude was all an act though, which was evident in the quiet chuckles that slipped out.

“Um, why is everyone staring at us?” Max asked, looking more to you than Billy.

Your attention was brought back to the moment as you pulled in the school parking lot. Max was right, a cluster of girls were already watching the Camaro pull into the parking lot. Some of Billy’s friends were lurking nearby too. Jesus, did no one have their own life?

“Shitheads probably don’t have anything better to do,” Billy spat, practically reciting your thoughts.

Eyes were on you the moment you stepped out of the car. The group of girls had their gazes roving over you with absolute disgust. When their eyes caught on the jacket, you got the sense of what was the problem here. 

Sure, some girls had been a little nasty since you and Billy had started dating, but the jacket showed that you were official. That was their problem. It shouldn’t have been because that was crazy and entitled, and you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from feeling a little nervous. 

Billy, however, didn’t seem all too bothered. He had his usual confident swagger as he walked around the car to meet you and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“You okay?” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm, I’m good.” You gave him a grin. “I have to go find Beth, but I’ll see you at lunch?” 

He looked a little confused by your tense appearance, but nodded anyway and let his arm slip from your waist. You felt a little guilty. It wasn’t his fault that the people were being weird, and normally the PDA didn’t bother you, but now you felt so watched. 

Beth was always a good listener, she’d hear you out and likely calm you down. Finding her was your best bet. Luckily, she was very predictable in where she liked to linger before class.

“Beth, I need to talk to you!” You gave her a tight smile as you approached her car.

She surveyed the crowd of gawkers, which had shrunk considerably, but was still a decent size. “I’m guessing it has something to do with that?”

“Yup!” You grabbed her arm and headed for the girl’s bathroom. 

After a quick survey, the two of you concluded you were by yourselves. It might not have been Fort Knox level security, but it would have to do.

“Beth, I’m freaking out a little bit.” You sighed leaning against the wall in the far corner.

Your best friend let out a sigh and came over to join you in the back of the restroom. “I can tell. I’m really sorry that people are being weirdos about it.” 

“I just don’t get what the big deal is! I’ve been going out with Billy for weeks now! Is it really that much of a surprise that he slapped a label on it? And even if it is, why do half these people have to look at me like it’s a criminal offense for me to date him?” You rambled, hoping it would release some tension as the words left your mouth. 

Beth was quiet for a moment as she thought about what to say. “I can’t tell you why teenage girls are as mean and nasty as they like to be, but I think it’s probably jealousy. Which is really shitty, to be quite honest, but sometimes girls are mean. I really do hate that it all is directed at you right now.”

Since you were teetering on the brink of a panic, the universe decided to go ahead and tip you over the edge. A group of girls entered the bathroom, already in conversation about the hot topic of the hour: you. 

“Can you believe she came in wearing his jacket like she owns him? God, she must be mind blowing in bed if he wanted to keep her around. I mean, I’ve definitely never had any complaints, and he obviously kicked me to the curb.” One of the girls chuckled. She sounded like Sherry from your art class, but you were more focused on how her words made your stomach turn.

As the posse rounded the corner of the stalls, they got a clear view of you and Beth leaning against the back wall. That sent them into another fit of giggles.

“Oh my God! Y/N, we were just talking about you!” Cassandra, who used to be your lab partner last year, snickered.

The third girl, Margaret, gave you a sly look. “Hey, would you do us a huge solid and let us in on your secret? What little tricks do you pull in the sack that Billy likes so much? You better go ahead and tell us so we can make sure his next girl knows what to do after he dumps you.” 

The barrage came so quick, so sudden, that you  didn’t even have the words to defend yourself. You were just…stunned.

Beth was not. A fire lit in her eyes that would’ve made you so grateful if you could truly process what was happening right now.

“Listen, you dirty fucking skanks, I work on the school paper and unless you want it to slip that you three have the nastiest bout of chlamydia, I suggest you get the fuck out of here immediately.” Beth seethed.

That earned her some scoffs and eye rolls, but the girls left anyway. You were unable to join her victory. Even if it was cowardly, you decided in that moment that you couldn’t do today if this was how it was going to be. 

You yanked Billy’s jacket off and stuffed it down in your backpack. You shook your head as Beth opened her mouth to say something. 

“Will you please drive me home?” You asked numbly. 

She nodded and didn’t say another word as the two of you snuck out the side door. Thankfully, class had started so the parking lot was now empty. 

You were the first one to break the silence as Beth drove towards your house, 

“I never wanted to date him, you know. Never planned on it.” You murmured. “But I did it anyway, and now everyone hates me. And I hate me a little bit. I guess it would’ve been easier if I said no the last time. The worst part is now I really fucking like him, so I don’t know what to do.” 

You never expected things to be this bad. Sure, Billy had been high on the popularity spectrum since he moved here. He was a hot guy from California that drove a cool car and radiated charm. 

It wasn’t like you were bottom of the food chain, though. You probably fell somewhere around the upper-middle popularity spectrum. The problem was likely that you were just high enough to have been on Billy’s radar, but just low enough that the “top tier” kids wouldn’t accept you. 

As hard as Beth tried to persuade you to let her stay and keep you company, you insisted she go back to school. It was bad enough that you made her miss first period for your meltdown, you didn’t want to ruin her attendance any further. Besides, with your parents at work until late tonight, you were kind of glad to be alone for a while.

A while turned out to be way shorter than you had hoped. The sounds of an engine filled your driveway around noon and you had a guess of who had shown up.

“Y/N! You in there?” Billy called as he rang the doorbell. 

You cursed yourself for not having Beth tell him you were busy with something during lunch. You should’ve come up with an excuse or faked an illness…or not.

No, he was your boyfriend, you should fucking talk to him. God, people had really gotten in your head today.

You padded through the kitchen and headed for the front door. As soon as the lock slid open and you cracked the door, Billy was in the house, hands on your shoulders, looking you over.

“What the hell happened, baby? Are you okay? You didn’t come find me at lunch and then I asked around and everyone said you left this morning.” His words were full of more concern than you would’ve expected. Irritation or annoyance you might’ve predicted, but not this worried. 

“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ditch you for lunch,” You said, but you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “You should probably get back to school.”

He shook his head and let out a huff. “No, no, don’t fucking do that.” 

“What?”

“Feed me a line of bullshit. Something happened and I’m not leaving until you tell me what.” Billy folded his arms defiantly.

He absolutely meant it, that you knew for a fact. He was persistent, that much you had figured out early on.

With a sigh, you stepped around him and gently closed the front door. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

He let out a bitter bark of a laugh. “You’re my girl, and if it hurt you, you bet your ass it’s something I need to worry about.” 

“Billy… just go.” You mumbled.

He didn’t say anything immediately, but he also made no move to leave. You weren’t sure what thoughts were going through his head, but you watched his demeanor shift slightly. 

“Where’s the jacket?” He asked, voice tinged with a cold edge.

“What?” 

“Where’s my jacket?” 

“I took it off.” 

“Why?” The coldness was definitely present in his voice now.

You looked down at your feet, but you didn’t say anything. 

“Why?” He asked again, firmer this time.

“Because! People were gawking at me like I was the most repulsive animal in the damn zoo! Oh, and some girls felt the need to corner me in the bathroom and give me shit just because I’m dating you! So I’m sorry that I didn’t come eat lunch with you, I just had to get the fuck out of there for a second!” You shouted, unleashing all the pent up rage from the past few hours.

Billy threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “Who the fuck cares what those assholes think! They’re all a bunch of shitheads!” 

“It’s not that I care what they think, Billy, it’s the fact that they’re treating me like shit because you’re my boyfriend!” 

As soon as the words flew out, you knew that you shouldn’t have said them. You didn’t mean it like that. It wasn’t Billy you were mad at, so there shouldn’t have even been a fight in the first place. You did say that, though, and no amounts of regrets could erase Billy’s temper. 

“Well let me solve that fucking problem for you!” He spotted your half unzipped backpack on the ground and grabbed his jacket before storming outside to leave. 

No no no, this wasn’t what you wanted to happen. The car started and your feet took off, carrying you outside. 

“Billy! Wait, please! That’s not what I meant!” You grabbed the car door desperately, looking into his eyes pleadingly. “It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry I made it sound like it was. Please don’t leave. Just come back inside and let me explain. Please.”

Billy sat there for a minute in the seat of the car. A stray tear betrayed you and slid down your cheek, which you wiped away hastily . Normally, he hated when girls started crying and complicating things, but all he felt from the sight of your tears was guilt. He didn’t want to be the one to make you cry. He didn’t want anyone to ever make you cry. 

He shut off the car and headed back inside. A wave of relief flooded through you as you followed him back inside to the living room. 

You took a seat on the sofa and tried to rephrase your feelings a bit better this time. “I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean for it to sound like I blame you for this. I don’t. I know you don’t control those people, and their actions are completely unjustified. Yeah, what they said hurt. A lot. But, deep down, I know it doesn’t really mean anything. I shouldn’t have yelled at you about that.”

Billy waited a second before sitting down beside you. “I shouldn’t have yelled either. Or tried to leave. Or made you cry. God, I’m just so fucking sorry for all of it. I wish you would've told me people were giving you shit this morning. I would’ve handled it.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “This isn’t something you handle. You can’t control everything they do or say. This is one of those things that you have to learn to not let bother you, and eventually they’ll get tired of it anyway.”

“Still. I want to do something. I don’t want you to suffer because of me.” Billy scowled. 

“Again, not your fault. Besides, I wouldn’t have stopped you outside if I didn’t think you were worth it.” Something flickered in his eyes at your last statement and you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. “There is something you could do for me now, though.”

“And what would that be, sweetheart?” 

“Hold me.” 

Before you knew it, Billy had you in his arms on the couch and you finally felt good about life. The boy definitely wasn’t the problem. It was everyone else that caused problems. They would just have to get over that. 

“There is one more thing.” You murmured, head against his chest.

He looked down at you with a smirk. “And what would that be?”

You returned his smirk full force. “I’m going to need that jacket back for tomorrow.”

He said that could be arranged, and sure enough, you wore it to school when you showed up together the next day. As a bonus, you made sure everyone could see it when you pulled him in for one last kiss before you headed in the building.

Taglist : @forestcottage @lilslmao

[decadentworld]

My headcanons about the boys (Billy, Eddie, Steve, Jonathan)’s sexual orientations and how that comes into play in a relationship with Reader (male reader).

※ This post is only meant for fanfiction purposes.

※ Short version first, longer thoughts after the cut.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

Steve

※ Bisexual with equal preference towards men and women.

Eddie

※ Gay. Sorry, hellcheer enjoyers. I have nothing against the ship. I just can’t see Eddie as anything other than exclusively homosexual.

Jonathan

※ Bi-demisexual with preference towards men.

Billy

※ Gay. I’m sort of ambivalent about him and can sometimes see him as bisexual if written right, but I prefer to think of him as closeted/repressed homosexual.

※ Under the cut are some more extended thoughts.

※ Trigger warnings: Mention of grooming (Karen Wheeler towards Billy Hargrove). Child physical and verbal abuse (Neil Hargrove towards Billy Hargrove, Lonnie Byers towards Jonathan and Will Byers). Mentions of death due to overdosing. Religious trauma.

※ Content and warnings: Homophobia. Internalized homophobia. Mentions of (all of the following unrequited and not acted upon): Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers/Argyle.

Steve

※ I picture him as bisexual, but as him having only recently discovered this about himself.

※ I imagine he would be in denial at first.

※ He would try to take ‘refuge’ in sex with girls, which is familiar to him.

※ Which is something that, to him, feels great. Truly.

※ But. There’s always going to be that tiny splotch of curiosity in his head. Like an interrogation sign following his line of thought every time he catches himself staring at a particularly attractive male celebrity in a movie for too long.

※ His bisexual awakening can’t be pinpointed into one man, but three in particular.

※ The most notorious one was Billy. But the first one was, surprisingly, Jonathan.

※ Obviously, in the heat of the fight, there was no room for any other thoughts than to beat Jonathan within an inch of his life.

※ But after all is said and done, after Steve gets his act together and tries to be a better person, he starts having thoughts.

※ Confused thoughts, remorseful thoughts. Thoughts that leave him disgusted with himself because why would he start thinking about that fight as anything other than a necessary reality check for him.

※ Why does he get a different kind of chills when he recalls Jonathan overpowering him? No, not overpowering him. Just… lying on him at all.

※ It was the first time Steve’s ever considered himself anything other than wound up by a physical fight.

※ And Billy.

※ Dear God. Billy.

※ If Jonathan was the inception, Billy was the confirmation.

※ The way he looked, the way he carried himself. Even the douchebag way he treated Steve was so different from anything he’d ever experienced. And he was curious.

※ Only much later could Steve understand there was more to Billy. Only after it is too late does Steve understand Billy’s reasons, Steve’s own fault in Billy acting the way he did at the Byers’ house.

※ Only when it’s too late does Steve start experiencing that feel of wanting to protect, ever since El had vaguely mentioned that Billy had a Papa too. That’s enough for Steve to understand.

※ He feels guilty. Angry. Not at Billy, not for this. At his father. At his environment.

※ But… it isn’t just the need to protect him from his environment? It’s also wanting to hold him? To be close to him?

※ Steve has always had conflicting thoughts about many things, but the idea that he’s always been attracted to Billy Hargrove wreaks havoc in his mind.

※ He can’t do anything now. It’s too late, because Billy’s left Hawkins as soon as he was discharged from the hospital.

※ Steve worries about him now and then, wonders if he even had enough money, if the Camaro was even functional at this point, how he’ll afford housing in (probably) California.

※ He calms himself by thinking the government had a hand in that.

※ And then you arrive.

※ Jonathan was the inception, Billy was the confirmation, and you are the execution.

※ Steve has seldom found people who he considers bigger than life. Billy wasn’t one of them.

※ You are.

※ The way you look like you could snap anyone in half, but still choose to be a nice person, has him immediately hooked.

※ His previous thoughts lead him to the shaky confirmation that yes. This is attraction to men.

※ But how is that possible? He can’t be gay. He likes girls.

※ Robin knocks some sense into him, obviously.

※ “It’s called being bisexual, Stevie. Like Bowie. Are you living under a rock?”

※ Huh.

※ It’s a long, very long way until Steve accepts that he wants to spend time with you as more than friends.

※ Even then, he doesn’t have the same amount of courage to come onto you the way he does with girls.

※ Luckily, he doesn’t have to, since you’re the one to make the first move.

※ The first time you ask him out, he refuses out of panic. And leaves. Running.

※ He shuffles his feet back to you the very next day, with a very dark blush on his face. Says he didn’t know why he panicked.

※ So he asks you to try again.

※ The second time you ask him out, he looks jittery, but agrees.

※ Only on the condition that it’s a private affair.

※ “Obviously,” you tell him. You know just how much his life would be ruined if anyone —if his parents, God forbid— found out about this.

※ And you’re now Steve’s Harrington’s first boyfriend. First everything with a man.

Billy

※ I’m slightly impartial about Billy’s sexual orientation.

※ I can sometimes see him as bisexual, but I’m more leaning onto the theory that he’s a repressed homosexual, so I’ll develop this latter one.

※ Billy is so conflicted with what he feels.

※ And who wouldn’t be in his situation? He has only learnt violence.

※ Never love.

※ Billy strikes me as someone who just does not enjoy sex with women. At all.

※ Everytime he does have sex with women, it’s just part of the mask. He knows that the more women talk about him, about his sexual prowess, the more ears will turn and the more possibilities he will have that he will not be mistaken with a queer.

※ Especially if his father is listening to this gossip.

※ Billy did not have one man in particular as his sexual awakening. There were many.

※ Most of them were in California.

※ Billy was often startstruck with how handsome and bright the surfer boys were.

※ He just didn’t know it was ‘bad’ to be a ‘queer’. There was so much acceptance of ‘queers’ in there.

※ Which is the reason why Neil found out so quickly about his son “being one of them queers” when Billy, so innocently and still full of life, walked down the beach hand in hand with another boy —a new friend, not even a little boyfriend— of his same age.

※ Betty Hargrove could somehow disregard the verbal abuse her own son was getting from Neil. However, she left the second he turned on her. (Sorry, Billy’s mom’s defenders, but a mother who abandons her son with his abuser just does not strike me as a good person at all.)

※ Billy just doesn’t know when his ‘punishment’ for being ‘queer’ will stop, if it ever will:

It starts with Neil bringing Susan and Maxine Mayfield in not even two months after his mom leaves;

it continues with moving them all to Bumfuck, Indiana soon after;

it keeps going day after day, with hit after hit, even when Billy shows himself with a different girl every week.

(Billy knows it’s not all about him being queer anymore.)

※ All of this plays an important role in Billy’s self-deprecation in general, in the way he sees being queer.

※ So his walls keep hardening. On and on. Until he’s unrecognizable from the innocent boy who would carelessly walk down the beach with another boy.

※ This mask he has built for himself, of a living hazard towards other men, a womanizer for the women, is not as sturdy.

※ There are moments when the cracks start to show.

※ Karen Wheeler’s predatory behavior almost has him reverting into a scared boy at times, as much as he’s able to hide it. She’s the reason why he starts being even more disgusted with himself when he has to keep this charade of being a ladies’ man.

※ There are, however, other moments when these cracks in the mask feel like freedom, a prisoner catching sunrays from between the bars, but it’s a dangerous kind of freedom.

※ Those moments happen whenever Steve Harrington is nearby.

※ Billy’s not sure who starts it, but sparks fly off the first time they interact.

※ Except. Not in the way he’d like.

※ He knows he’s not a pleasant person to be around most of the time, sure, but Billy could swear he did his best to not scare off the guy.

※ Now that’s all he can do. It seems like the only way he can interact with Steve normally is by pulling at his metaphorical pigtails.

※ Even this is more than he could have asked for. An escape.

※ But then, the betrayal. Not that Steve owed him anything, or that he was obviously anyone in Steve’s radar, but finding his little (step) sister in this random house, under this guy’s ‘supervision’ feels like betrayal all the same. How dare he lie to Billy?

※ Everything is fuzzy after this. Hate, betrayal, terror, acceptance, and pure, unadulterated pain is all he can feel. Being used like a puppet, and torn open and sewn back together will do that to you.

※ The light at the end of the tunnel exists, but the train has to hit him first.

※ Neil finally disowns him and ditches Hawkins. Billy figures his sperm donor jumped at the first chance as soon as he learnt Billy was critical, and he’s not surprised. So Billy’s virtually homeless. At the very least, the government paid off his hospital bills and gave him a hefty sum for his involvement, so he’s going to be alright for his hospital stay.

※ (Susan visits him at the hospital exactly one time and unenthusiastically offers him to stay at their new trailer. Billy refuses. She doesn’t visit him anymore. Billy knows it was just a courtesy.)

※ No one visits him.

※ No one, except you.

※ Word runs fast in Hawkins, and as soon as you hear —from your workmate, who’s heard from his cousin, who’s heard from her father, who works with Susan Hargrove Mayfield— about Billy’s situation, you can’t do anything else but go see him.

※ Billy lets the unexpected visitor (you) enter his hospital room, and you don’t fault him for not immediately recognizing you. You shared many classes in high school, but you never approached him because you knew (or thought you knew) how much he saw other men as nothing more than competition.

※ The panorama changes now. No words need to be said for you to understand that there’s more than meets the eye.

※ “I know you.” Billy surprises you, and you can’t be anything else than elated that he does.

※ The fact that you’ve been harboring the biggest crush on him for ages has a lot to do with this.

※ But, of course, that’s not why you’re here. You store these feelings away and simply make him company.

※ You’re his only visitor. Billy thinks it’s going to be a one-off, but he’s —pleasantly— surprised to know that’s not the case.

※ Billy heals with you at his side. His hospital room was one breath away from becoming a mausoleum, but instead, with you in it, it becomes his sanctuary.

※ He doesn’t say this. Tries not to show it.

※ But you think you know what’s up. Even then, neither of you says anything about the growing tension, though it’s not a bad kind of tension. On the contrary. Because you know you’re only a few steps away from full-on loving him, but you can’t do that to him. Can’t take advantage of him like that, and you know his feelings are probably only that of a vulnerable person towards their caregiver.

※ The closer he’s ready for discharge, the more nervous he becomes, because he’s still virtually homeless. He shouldn’t be; you’re going to offer him to stay at yours for as long as he needs. Obviously.

※ Though, as you say this, you can’t help falling face-first in love with him. Because the way he breaks down, like you just gave him a piece of heaven, tells you he hasn’t had a single good thing in his life for a long time. Which is when you start turning nervous too, because this is simply too much power held over him.

※ Billy doesn’t think that. He just falls in love with you, at the same time you do.

※ Navigating life together without actually being together is hard. A couple months into this arrangement it’s very clear to you that what he’s clearly feeling is not simple attachment to a caregiver figure.

※ So you take a chance and make a move. And he responds in enthusiastic kind.

※ You teach him how to accept himself. You hold his hand through the storm. You teach him how to make amends; this last one is important to him, because, “No one’s ever said sorry to me for shit, so how am I s’posed to know how to apologize?”

※ And through you, his relationship with Max improves. Lucas offers an olive branch. The kids and even Steve start warming up to him, seeing how much he’s changed, now that he’s in a safe place and has started to heal.

Eddie

※ Eddie strikes me as the gayest unconfirmed gay to ever gay.

※ Seriously. Have you seen the guy? (Again, nothing against hellcheer.)

※ The bandana on his back pocket should be enough evidence. (The fact that it’s on the wrong side doesn’t mean anything. Shut up.)

※ Eddie’s known about himself for too long.

※ Long enough that his parents sort of did, too. If it hadn’t been for his mom’s OD and his dad’s GTA, he’s pretty sure he still wouldn’t have lasted three more months in that house.

※ Wayne is the biggest ally ever. As soon as he knew this little thirteen year-old boy was going to go into the system, he dropped everything and swooped in to take care of him.

※ Wayne clocks him from a mile away.

※ Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, but he knows Wayne knows, somehow.

※ And the fact that neither of them aren’t saying anything about it fills him with anxiety.

※ Eddie’s always had a negative vision of himself being queer, due to dear ol’ Randy and Bonnie Munson —ironically— giving him a Christian upbringing, but the more time that passes, the more he hates himself. Hates the idea of Hell and is terrified at the same time.

※ These thoughts lead him to closing himself off for a long time, before Wayne decides the elephant in the room is too big to ignore and simply says:

※ “Kid, you’re not gonna go to Hell.”

※ It’s as if Eddie deflates when he hears that.

※ It’s a slow process, full of ups and downs, but eventually, Wayne convinces him that there’s nothing wrong with being queer, that he’s not abnormal.

※ Eddie vaguely wonders why Wayne and Randy are so different, being that they both had the same upbringing.

※ Maybe Wayne’s a little bit gay, too.

※ So Eddie grows up with a supportive figure who allows him to be himself, dress how he wants, grow his hair, listen to whatever he wants without side-eyeing him, without implying he’s going to Hell because his music sounds ‘loud’ or ‘demonic’.

※ Eddie’s ways of expressing himself are so genuine it’s not a surprise they end up pissing off some less accepting people.

※ The first few times, Eddie reverts back into conforming, trying to not take up too much space in the room.

※ As time goes on, however, he understands that this’ll follow him on every step he takes, so he figures it’s not worth it. He is unashamedly himself.

※ He never comes out publicly, but the rumors that he’s queer will always be there.

※ One thing that Eddie can just not stand, is people calling him ‘Freak’.

※ Sure, he is unashamedly himself, but he still has his limits. He very much prefers when people call him ‘gay’, because at least that’s true.

※ It’s a long time until he closes in on himself again, and that moment arrives the first time he and Steve interact. Or, rather, Steve makes himself known.

※ His asshole friends, those Tommy and Carol who follow the King like his shadows, make life impossible for some seconds at a time every time they see him.

※ And Steve watches. Calls him “queer” and leaves after, every time.

※ Eddie is so ashamed to find out that, among that resentment he feels, there’s also yearning.

※ But Eddie won’t be so easily swayed by this, so he ups the ante. Is even more boisterous, makes himself a dangerous persona, but never falls into violent territory. He won’t stoop as low as his bullies.

※ Time passes and things change a lot in Hawkins. He notices a new family moving into the trailer park. He notices they were only two people at first in the trailer, but when the third one arrives after some months, his interest is piqued.

※ He knows this guy. Billy Hargrove. Eddie’s never approached him, lest he bear the brunt of his usual bad moods. He would’ve probably clocked Eddie as well, called him queer, knock him out a couple times for good measure.

※ At least, that’s what Eddie thinks high-school Billy would have done.

※ The Billy Hargrove he sees now looks like a shell of his former self.

※ Eddie yearns again. He so badly wants to be by this man’s side.

※ Unfortunately, not much time passes before he learns Billy Hargrove has left Hawkins. He doesn’t blame him.

※ Eddie finds his clique. Many years pass and he’s still in high school, and the only reason he tolerates it is because he knows he’ll have people to look forward to: his band and his little friends.

※ Then, the long chain of events happen in just the span of a few days, and his world is turned Upside Down.

※ He will always cry at the mention of Chrissy’s name. They could have been the best of friends, and he would’ve always given her a shoulder to cry on.

※ He still doesn’t know how or why he’s still alive. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe Hell was real, and he had to go through it, just as if he were made to face the divine tribulations.

※ That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that he’s now apparently given the access to Heaven with everything he’s had to go through. His charges are cleared, and even though some people are still in denial of this, no one dares to say otherwise.

※ And this is the part where he thinks he’s earnt Heaven. Because as he goes with his uncle to volunteer at the gym, he sees you, an absolute specimen of a man that almost makes him weak in the knees, helping prepare some meals.

※ Wayne almost laughs at how obvious Eddie’s being. “Why don’t you go make some sandwiches, kid? I’ll be right over here.” And subtly pushes him towards you, making him splutter and making you look up at the noise.

※ Eddie watches, almost besotted, as you introduce yourself to him. He blushes when he realizes he should answer something.

※ That’s not a problem to you. You’ve already started calling him ‘angel’ in your mind.

※ Time passes and Eddie’s falling more and more. But his earlier internalized thoughts are making the rounds again. He thinks you’ll only ever see him as a friend, and God forbid he ever shows himself as he is to you. He’ll totally lose you.

※ Silly boy. You’ve known he’s queer the entire time, only you’ve waited until you’re sure he’s feeling something similar to what you’re feeling to make a move.

※ And, oh, boy. The way he reacts has you halfway in love. He all but climbs you like an excited puppy. And the way he kisses you lets you know it’s his first one too, and isn’t that a thought.

Jonathan

※ Jonathan has known he’s a bit queer all his life.

※ He didn’t have a specific man as his sexual awakening. He’s just sort of known all along.

※ Obviously, living with this knowledge under Lonnie’s yoke is not easy.

※ For some unfortunate reason, it’s Will who bears the brunt of their father’s verbal lashings.

※ And Jonathan can’t stand it. He wants to be there for his brother, but he doesn’t know how he can possibly show his support as long as they live in this house.

※ Luckily, as soon as they’re all out, they can start healing. Even then, the scars of their upbringing are too big to ignore.

※ Jonathan keeps his attraction to men to himself throughout life.

※ The fact that he’s an outcast at school wears him down even more.

※ Let’s not even talk about the time Will’s gone. He’s a mess.

※ One of the hardest lessons in life for Jonathan is that everything that has to turn out wrong, turns out wrong in the end. Steve Harrington outing him as a ‘creep’ and breaking his camera is part of that lesson.

※ There’s something about Steve that has Jonathan’s thoughts going haywire. He hates the guy, but… there’s something else there, too. Jonathan has to put this foreboding feeling aside for the time being, seeing the following events that play out.

※ One of the most notorious events is the brutal fight he has with Steve.

※ The guy completely deserves it! Jonathan is firm in this belief.

※ But when Steve tries to improve himself, he has those same initial thoughts.

※ Why is he turning that fight over in his head so much?

※ Something must be wrong with him, clearly.

※ Jonathan loves Nancy. He does. At least at first. She’s his first in everything, and they have an understanding.

※ As more time passes, though, it’s clear that both of them have strayed away from each other. It hurts that she doesn’t understand his point of view, but he concedes that it’s clear he, in turn, doesn’t understand her point of view.

※ Their break-up is nothing big. It’s very obvious that it’s been a long time coming. He’s just glad they both reached that same conclusion at the same time, else they be caught in a future loveless marriage.

※ Especially when he tells her that he won’t follow her to Emerson.

※ Jonathan is very sure that he felt love for her. Attraction, even. But as he briefly heals from this same separation, he starts giving thought to previous happenings in his life.

※ The fight with Steve being the most prominent one.

※ Why is he still thinking of that?

※ Maybe it was the fact that it was the first time he got all close and personal with another male.

※ Even if it was in a fist-fight kind of context.

※ But he thinks of other instances apart from that one. All of them revolving around Steve.

※ The Halloween party at Tina’s. How… surprisingly handsome he found him that time.

※ Steve breaking his camera. The mortification, but, underneath that… the little thrill he got at seeing Steve so collected, so authoritative. Trying to put him in his place.

※ Yeah. There’s something very fucked up in Jonathan’s head.

※ Steve trying to make things right. This one, he thinks makes more sense. A subdued Steve was almost like a relief to him. Meant he wouldn’t be harassed as much.

※ It also meant he would also try to be more amicable to Jonathan.

※ Jonathan finds himself partial to these thoughts. But he can’t think of Steve like this anymore. Or, rather, should have never thought of Steve like this. He considers Steve sort of an awkward friend, and he’s too afraid to break that fine ice they’re both constantly stepping on.

※ So, with all this, it’s not really a surprise to Jonathan when he starts having thoughts about another one of his male friends, but it makes him feel guilty all the same.

※ Argyle is so different to Steve. He’s funny, effortlessly charming in a way that’s so contrasting to Steve, and considerate. Not to mention he sells Jonathan the best weed in miles around.

※ Plus, he’s tall. So tall.

※ Jonathan is slowly getting to two conclusions at the same time:

1. He has a type. That type is tall and bigger than him.

and

2. He’s finding out he likes men a lot more than women.

※ These two conclusions go hand in hand together.

※ The guilt swirls in lazy strokes on his chest. This feels so similar to Steve. He thinks he’s doing something very wrong by simply thinking of a male friend as something more.

※ After all, childhood scars are the hardest to heal.

※ He tries to withdraw, just a little bit, just until Argyle asks if he’s okay, if he’s still sad because he’s thinking of Nancy.

※ Yeah. Sure.

※ It isn’t until the new semester starts and he gets paired up with you for a project that the lid on his feelings starts weakening its hold.

※ Oh, he’s so fucked. The first time he sees you, he thinks: he’s so my type. Why do I have to go through this, again?

※ You’re easy-going, attuned to him, helpful.

※ And you’re tall. A lot taller than him. He almost has to strain his neck to look up at you.

※ He doesn’t know how that looks to you.

※ Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, due to the conflicting thoughts in his head, you’ve already starting thinking that he’s so small, so cute. He has to lift his head to look at you.

※ This college project drags on like molasses, except Jonathan finds it’s not the usual, not because it’s boring, because it should be something more challenging for his current level.

※ No. It’s because he and you have to actually gather at either of your houses.

※ Have to work next to each other. Share the same space. Try not to break due to the tangible tension you’re both aware of.

※ You’re very sure of what’s going on. A simple conversation that starts with your nonchalant: “Oh, did you know I’m into men?”, his spluttering reaction and subsequent shy answer of: “I… kinda am, too. That’s crazy,” eventually, but rapidly enough evolves into tentatively taking his hand, seeing the openness between the bashfulness and making a move.

※ His first time kissing a man makes him feel like he’s a whole different person.

※ A person he was always meant to be.

※ Small dates with you consolidate the idea that yeah, he’s a lot more into men.