#more like billy ugly

[kinoderyaoi]

my mobcanon

i mobcanon that billy and finn have crazy freaky gay sex in the middle of prison in frnt of everybody and nobody can stop them because the freaky force is too powerful and gives anyone within 5ft schizophrenia

[robinsnest2111]

idly wondering with what experts would diagnose me if I was 100% truthful and could remember every single thing that happened to me and every single quirk I developed because of it <3

[rad-batson]

AU where after 12yo Billy’s identity gets revealed to the JL, Bruce Wayne gives his number to Billy for emergencies or any other situation where he might need an adult (like a get-out-of-jail free card, covering rent, signing a permission slip, advice, anything.) No strings attached. He won’t act controlling. Just in case, you know?

And for a while it’s never used because Billy would rather take his own eye out than ask an adult for help. Until Billy realizes there are a lot more benefits to this than he thought. Now whenever Uncle Dudley is at work and Constantine is too busy running from the magical authorities or (more importantly) he doesn’t want either to know what he’s doing, Bruce is the adult he calls.

-

Cap, over comms: Hey Bruce, I need advice.

Bruce, already in the zeta tube: Which villain is it?

Cap: You have style, right? What should I wear to the school dance? Because Dudley said a ruffled tuxedo shirt is “a classic” but it sounds ugly and-

Bruce:

Bruce: Oh, it’s that kind of advice.

-

Bruce: *posing as Billy’s guardian for class registration day*

PTA Mom: Hello sir, is this your son?

Bruce: *looks at Billy*

Billy: *nodding his head*

Bruce: Yes

-

Billy: Hey Bruce, can you buy something for me?

Bruce: What is it?

Billy: *slowly hands Bruce a copy of The Conjuring*

Bruce:

Bruce: Billy, I don’t think you should—

Billy: You promised :(

Bruce: *whispering* fuck

-

Cap, over comms: Uhh, Bruce? Do you know Sanskrit?

Bruce: Yeah, why? Is it for a school assignment?

Cap: …Don’t tell Constantine.

Bruce:

Cap: I got kidnapped by an ancient cult, and I need you to help me escape.

Bruce: *crushes the mug of coffee he’s holding*

Bruce: Oh?

[h3arts4harry]

- its not your fault -

-

warnings: angst with happy ending, fluff, social media being a meanie☹️, idk

summary: billie and y/n reveal their 5 year relationship to fans and it doesn't go as they hoped it would

-

Billie and i had been friends since we were 7. we were inseperable to the point when we weren't together people would ask where the other was, and we always knew. on my 17th birthday billie took us to a lake in the forest, we had a picnic, swam, and laid under the stars. that night she asked me to be her girlfriend and of course i said yes. now 5 years later billie wants to tell the world about how she has 'the most perfect girl ever' in her words, in all honesty shes wanted to post about us since the start. the only thing stopping her is me, ive been too scared. fans can be crazy and i dont think i could handle if people hated me, sure they know and like me now but that's as 'billies best friend' and i still get a little hate from that.

"cmon baby pleaseeee, i hate that i cant post about you" billie pleads from next to me, "i dont know bils.. what if they hate me?" i question placing the clean dishes away in the correct cupboards, "why would they hate someone who makes me soooo happy" she smiles wrapping her arms around my waist placing small kisses around the base of my neck and shoulder. i swiftly turn and face her, wrapping my arms around her neck, i lean in and place a kiss on the tip of her nose "okay", her smile widens "yea? really?" i nod not being able to hold my smile from the joy on her face, "yeah lets do it" "i love you i love you i love you" she repeats covering my scrunched face in kisses.

liked by itsssy/n, drewstarkey, others

billieeilish letting you in on a little secret.. who would've thought🤷‍♀️

comments..

itsssy/n: i love you <3 billieeilish: i love you more <3

quenblackwell: finallyy, yall these 2 r the cutest istg liked by author

zoedonahoe: my favourite gays liked by author

madelyncline: so cute!! liked by author

madisonbeer: im so happy for you guys <33 liked by author

user1: OMFG???

user2: AHHH WHATTT

user3: ugly ass clout chaser, kys finneas: ur disgusting

user 4: ew wtf that should be me

user5: OUR GIRLS ARE IN LOVEEEEE liked by author

user6: billie you could've chosen anyone, literally anyone is better than whatever that is eugh itsssy/n: real

user7: shes so fat wtf

liked by billieeilish, quenblackwell, others

itsssy/n SURPRISE SHAWTYYY

comments..

billieeilish: mine mine mine itsssy/n: yours yours yours

tarayummy: so happy for you girls!! liked by author

christophersturniolo: bestie is in love itsssy/n: deeply😔

madelineargy: QUEENS OMG itsssy/n: says u (ily)

matthewsturniolo: happy 4u dude itsssy/n: thanks dude

maggiembaird: so happy that you two are finally telling people, you girls mean to world to us<33 itsssy/n: love you maggie <33

larray: bitch hit the jackpot (ily) itsssy/n: yes yes i did💁‍♀️ (ilyt)

user8: FHDSIFI WHATTTT

user9:its giving clout chaser nicolassturniolo: girl stfu💀 liked by author

user11:i bet shes just using our bils, she deserves sm better

user 12: ill pray for you, sinners. user5: brother eughh

user14: couple goals omfg liked by author

user13: no no no no noooooo

-a week later-

"y/n baby?" billie peaks through our bedroom door "hm?" i pear over the thick covers billie walks over sitting next to me leaning against the headboard, i lay my head on her chest and her hand instantly wraps in my hair. "whats going on with you?" she asks lowering her head slightly to look at me, "nothing" i mumble hiding myself in the covers a little more, "uhuh" she pushing the cover out of my face, "talk to me, whats bothering you" i stay silent for a moment before speaking up "i urm- have you seen the comments?" i ask sitting up next to the worried girl, brining my knees to my chest "theres so many posts about us, an-and its exactly what i was scared of billie, if not worse"

billie had seen a few comments on both our posts. she tried to delete as many as she could but there was no way she could get through them all. her heart physically hurt knowing that her fans, the people that were supposed to support and love her, would treat someone she cares for and loves so deeply with such hate. it made her sick to think about everything posted to the public to see about her girl.

billie stands in the kitchen, racking her brain for ways she could help y/n. she ends up calling her brother, finneas; "hey bil whats up?" "i-i dont know what to do, y/n hasn't left our room in a fucking week and i dont- ive tried everything she wont leave" "woah billie slow down whats going on?" "y/n, she hasn't come out our room in a week, she said before that she was scared this would happen and i- i told her, i fucking promised her it would all be okay, that they would all love her but- i dont know what to do fin" "everyone that's hating is so obviously jealous" "i know that but i dont think she does, ive told her again and again but its like she doesn't believe me" "i wish i could help billie but im slumped, i never see hate on Claudia so i wouldn't know" billie groans before saying bye and ending the call.

the anger in her rises as she paces around the living room before posting on her Instagram story

-the next day-

im scrolling through tiktoks, basically all of them being edits and videos of billie, the odd one being a hate vid on me before i scroll upon a sad edit of me and billie. its cute but sad, containing old clips of me and billie when we were younger, a few being from the last couple of years. the caption being 'billies insta story was so sad to read, i have never hated on y/n and for billie to have seen so many people hating to post that is honestly heartbreaking.' i open the comments to see everyone agreeing with the caption.

myb0ybillie: our girl was so happy but seeing how much hate y/n got was crazy

y/n4ndb1lliee: they've been the cutest ppl ever i couldn't believe ppl were hating

wherearetheavacad0sss: loved y/n since billie first posted with her, sickening to see how ppl are treating her

it warmed my heart a little to see that some people actually did like me, and by some i mean tat post had around 21k comments on it, basically all saying the same thing.

the door creaks open slowly, billies head poking through before stepping fully in seeing me awake, "morning baby, how are you" she sits next to me on her side of the bed, "im okay, look at this edit" i nod passing her my phone, she faintly smiles watching it, the same as i did. "this is so cute" she mumbles scrolling through the comments, "mhm" i hum as she passes back my phone, i turn it off and sit up slightly leaning against the headboard with my hands in my lap. "i was wondering i you wanted to come out for a drive with me? just to get out of the house for a bit, get some fresh air?" she suggest looking down at me, rubbing her hand up and down my upper arm. "i dont know bil.." "come onnn, ill drive and we'll play your favourite playlist-" "my favourite playlist is literally all of your songs" "meaning you get a free live performance" she chuckles jokingly nudging my shoulder. "mkay fine, but let me shower first" "yesss okay baby, go shower, i love youuu" she drags out as she leaves the room.

i shower, get dressed into some sweats and her hoodie, slip on my uggs and walk out to see billie in the car, leant over the back seat. i open the passenger door and sit down, immediately pulling the seatbelt over me. "what are you doing?" i ask looking over to her now sitting down properly, "i have a surprise" she giggles, shes loves always surprising me with things. billie takes my phone and connects it to the Bluetooth, passing it back to me. i open spotify, pressing on my playlist hitting shuffle. a small smile spreads on my face as my favourite song starts to play 'bitches broken hearts'.

we sing along to billies songs, driving for a couple hours before billie pulls into a random field. "why are we here?" i furrow my eyebrows turning to her, she smiles brightly "close your eyes" i shrug and do as she says, i hear her get out and run around the car opening my door helping me out. she guides me walking down to the end of the car before i hear her open the boot, she ruffles about for a minute before standing next to me, placing her hands lightly on my waist. "open" she whispers in my ear, i look to see the back seats laying down and the whole trunk converted into a comfy bed, snacks and drinks placed in a cute basket on the side. my eyes widen and my jaw drops with a gasp, my hands quickly covering my face "omg billie this is so cute" turning around to face billie who still has a bright smile, i wrap my arms around her neck, peppering her face with kisses "i love you i love you i love you" i say inbetween, she laughs grabbing my chin, pulling me into a kiss "i love you too".

we lay there talking about everything and nothing for hours, watching the sunrise.

a moment of silence goes passed before billie breaks it "im sorry y/n" she looks down, "no" i bring my hand to her jawline, making her look at me "its not your fault bil" "i know not technical-" "no not technically, not at all" "but i-" "billie." "hm?" "none of it, and i mean not one bit, is your fault, please understand that" she just nods, pulling me in closer. we continued to watch the sunrise until i fell asleep cuddled into billies side.

-

first time adding insta posts/stories so lets hope they work 🙏

as always feedback is appreciated <333

THANK YOU FOR READING

LOVE YOU HOES

taglist:

@m0r94n @sturnzsblog @junnniiieee07 @chrisgetsmewetterxo @raysmayhem-72 @sturniolo-slvt @mattspolitank @cerismo @chrispotatos @ncm9696

[ebony-blood]

OH MY GOODNESSS I was wondering, if you can pretty please do a lost boys X reader (poly if your comfortable with it) but she’s a wallflower? Like maybe she moved to Santa Carla and she’s bullied? Maybe a sprinkle of insecurity but ends up meeting the lost boys at the boardwalk and they just. Can’t. Leave. Her. Alone? She’s their mate and she’s so flustered cause the HOTTEST guys she’s ever seen are paying attention to her? Pretty pretty please?🥹🥹🥹 I’ll love you forever

Poly! The Lost Boys x Shy! Fem! Reader

Author's notes!: I had to look up what 'Wallflower' means lol, for those who don't know, a Wallflower is basically someone who kinda hangs back during parties because they are too shy. TW: READER IS FEM!! Bullying, mentioned violence, vampire stuff, the boys being obsessed right from the start. I tried so hard not to describe Reader in this, I try to be as inclusive as I can, but if anything is mentioned it's because I'm tired lol, I'll fix it, just bring it up in the comments and I'll track it down o7. This probably sucks, I'm sorry.

You had moved to Santa Carla looking for a fresh start a few weeks ago. You weren't used to the weird styles, the smell of weed and gas that seemed to constantly cover the streets, the loud boardwalk parties, none of it. So naturally, you kept to yourself, hanging back during parties and avoiding eye contact, unfortuantely, Santa Carla was not a place people like you, shy wallflowers, were treated right. 

Some people ignored you at best, they’d glare at you when you waved or smiled at them, they’d ignore you if you asked questions, they avoided you. But a lot of people were downright cruel to you. They mocked you at parties, some openly tried to take things from you or would push you around. People were never openly violent with you, at first, but after a few weeks they started getting more violent, pushing you around and screaming in your face. It was mostly the people who were either on drugs or drunk. It was mostly the men and their girlfriends who were openly hostile and mean to you. You wished you’d never moved to this place, it was gross, the people were indifferent at best and downright cruel at worst, and you missed people you knew in your past. You wish you weren’t like you were, so quiet and shy. Hell, it had been years since you could look in the mirror and see someone you didn’t view as hideous looking back at you, but Santa Carla made it so much worse.

It was yet another late night in Santa Carla. Another night of wandering the boardwalk while you tried to avoid the harassment you got from people. You weren’t surprised every time you were shoved aside, or shouted at by a familiar group. Honestly, you didn’t wanna deal with that tonight, you wanted to walk around, maybe go see whoever was playing a show that night and see if they were actually good, and then head back to your apartment, but it seemed whatever form of fate you believed in had a different idea, because the group just wouldn’t leave you alone, shouting random shit, from ‘Weirdo’ to one girl just straight up calling you ugly. You were fighting back tears.Why the hell were people so needlessly cruel? Whatever, it’s nothing new. 

You stopped by some area where people on the beach park their bikes. You took the biggest breath you possibly could when you realized your tormenters weren’t following you anymore, so you could finally breath. 

That was until you heard voices, four guys, you guessed. You looked in their direction and, for the first time since moving to Santa Carla, you got that butterfly feeling in your gut. That wasn’t a thing you had felt since high school. You swore the bullies you faced then laughed the feeling out of you, but these four seemed to knock the breath you had just taken out of you. Damn, they were hot. Three of the four men were blonde, one had curly hair, one had fluffy hair, and the third guy had a haircut that kind of reminded you of Billy Idol, he was smoking a cigarette. And then there was the one that seemed to be trailing behind, observing people around them while the other three, mostly the ones with curly hair and fluffy hair, laughed and joked. The fourth guy had long, dark brown hair. You stared for a minute longer before snapping yourself out of whatever daze you had been in. 

They had stopped walking, they were staring right at you, and you immediately prepared your apology in your head. Quietly standing up, and then one of the four, the fluffy-haired one, said something you assumed wasn’t meant to be said out loud.

“Holy shit, Marko, she’s hot.” 

You looked over at the four, confused, the man was immediately smacked across the back of the head by the one with the cigarette.

“Don’t say shit like that out loud, dumbass.”

You were staring at the four, your face suddenly warming up at the idea that they were talking about you. You figured it was a stupid thought, there were other hot girls around the boardwalk, why would any of these four think you were hot? Then, the one with the cigarette cleared his throat.

“Sorry about that, doll. Paul can’t seem to keep his mouth shut around pretty girls.” He said, glaring back at the one with fluffy hair, you assumed he was Paul.

The one with curly hair snickered a bit and looked over at Paul, before the one with the cigarette spoke up again, he quickly shut up then.

“I’m David, The guy behind me is Dwayne, and those two are Paul and Marko.” He said

You nodded softly, even their names were hot, what the hell? David and the other three were staring at you with a confusing amount of attention. 

Paul had an almost immediately obsessed or enamored look in his eyes, like you were just the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, Marko also looked absolutely in love with you already, both had the same look in their eyes, the other two, Dwayne and David didn’t seem in love, if they were, they were hiding it well enough. 

“So, where ya off to, sweets?” Paul said, giving you a soft grin.

“Oh, I was about to head home,” You reply, and they all suddenly seem to perk up a bit.

“Oh, really? Well, maybe, instead of that, you could come and hang out with me and the guys?” David asked, motioning to their bikes. 

Something about these four felt…supernatural. They carried themselves with such confidence, and something unseen seemed to be pulling you to them. You thought for a minute. Was it a good idea? Maybe not. It felt too good to be true, four hot boys, paying attention to you? They stared, waiting for your answer. Against your better judgment, you made your choice.

“Sure, I don’t see why I couldn’t.” 

Paul and Marko got visibly excited. Paul grabbed your hand quickly and led you over to their bikes, the other three following behind him, laughing at Paul’s excitement. You were carefully put on the back of one of their bikes and David got on in front of you, looking back at you when you wrap your arms around him.

“Hold on tight, alright?” 

You could only nod before the four sped off, David following behind the more rambunctious two, with Dwayne behind him. 

At the time you didn’t know it, but come the end of the next week, you’d be theirs, and you’d have no complaints about it.

This got so long lol.

Sorry it ended like it did, it's 4 am here and I'd dying.

more coming tomorrow <333

[weird-an]

Billy doesn't remember how he got here. He stares at Harrington's big ass house, perfectly cut rose bushes and freshly mowed lawn.

It's nearly midnight. His arm throbs, each one of Neil's finger leaving a violet shadow behind. Why did he come here?

Harrington and him only met two times, shared hungry kisses and touches no one can ever know about. The vague sense of relief, of not being alone, made Billy ache a little less for that moment.

He's probably looking for that. To ease the pain, because Harrington is better than an advil.

Ridiculous. He should go, lick his wounds somewhere else. Harrington is a rich brat, once he sees the ugly truth behind Billy's smiles he's gonna toss him away.

The door opens. Billy halfway expects the stern looking man he has seen on a photo in the hallway to yell at him, to chase him away.

"Billy?"

But it's just Steve. Steve whose face turns from confused to something softer, something warm, something Billy wants to curl up in if he only was allowed to.

"What's goin' on?" Steve steps aside. Billy can't move. He doesn't belong here, because this place is golden and bright and shines on all his scars.

"Come in," Steve says.

Billy knows that he must have walked, because suddenly he's sitting on the couch and Steve puts a blanket around him.

"What are you doin'?" Billy asks. He's staring at some weird ass marble sculpture of an otter and it all doesn't make sense.

"You're hurt." Steve chews on his bottom lip, somehow unsure. They've already crossed a line tonight, Billy knows that. "How can I help?"

"I don't need help," Billy says and it's not even a lie. Neil gets angry, Billy hides, that's just how it goes. He wants to get away, but he's never going to make it. He knows it. Neil knows it, too.

Steve tilts his head. The otter stares at Billy.

"Hot chocolate," Steve declares.

"I'm not a kid," Billy snorts. He's a son, but he's not a child. Never allowed to be.

Steve ignores him. The otter seems to laugh at Billy when he listens Steve rummage in the kitchen.

There's a hot cup getting pushed into his hand. There's a gigantic pile of marshmallows on top of it. Billy looks from the chocolate to Steve, to the otter and back.

"Do you want more marshmallows?" Steve asks - he sounds nervous. He sips from his cup and Billy watches him lick away the stain of chocolate from his lips.

"It's fine," Billy says. The chocolate tastes rich and sweet and there's tears in his eyes, tears he has cried before when he was a kid and still had a mom.

"Thanks," he manages, hoping Steve doesn't see him cry like a little bitch - or so his dad would say.

"Anytime." It sounds like a promise.

Billy can't feel Neil's hand on his arm. He only feels warm.

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 3)

If you guys like it, I would greatly appreciate a reblog, it helps spread this fanfic around🫶

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 4

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @nocturnest Part 3 is here!!

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

You weren't sure how things would go with Billy after that night. Technically, you still owe him for the day at the museum, There are parts of Hawkins he hadn’t seen yet. Plus, you hadn’t talked about when or if you’d see each other again outside of school. So, it's a surprise when the following week, as you're grabbing books from your locker, you feel a presence behind you—the warmth of someone's body lightly brushing against your back. You look up and see a hand resting on your locker. Turning around, you met his curious and slightly amused eyes. 

"Oh! Hey, you scared me…”

"I saw that," he replies. "Am I that ugly?"

You stay still, feeling the cold metal of the locker against your back, aware that some students are probably watching you. But Billy doesn't seem bothered by this; if anything, he seems indifferent. He's wearing the same black leather jacket he lent you the other night, over a partially unbuttoned black shirt. He knows he’s not ugly, and you know he’s teasing you. But his closeness throws you off, and you can’t find the words to play along. You stumble over a nonsensical and incomplete sentence. Meanwhile, he takes the books from your hands and moves his hand away from the locker, finally giving you space, and it feels like you can breathe again.

"Physics?" he asks, looking at the first book on the pile in his hands.

"Uh, yeah." You turn to close your locker, taking the opportunity to pull yourself together. "It's my first class, actually."

"Sweet. I'll walk you there."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." You struggle to hide your astonishment as you walk toward the classroom with him beside you.

And during the following days, he does the same. He makes it seem so natural that it slowly becomes routine for you. In history class, he sits next to you. During lunch break, you sit at the table at the back of the cafeteria. He always sits at a table next to Jason Carver, Chrissy Cunningham, and other popular jocks, but between bites of food, he always gives you a look. Eventually, at the end of the meal, he always gets up from their table and comes over to sit beside you. In history class, he always sits next to you. Strangely, Tommy Hagan makes no comment. After the first few times, the rest of the class seems to get used to it.

When the history teacher assigns the paired presentation on "The Role of Propaganda in World War II," the teacher lets you choose your partner. Billy and you are already sitting next to each other, so it’s automatic that you’ll work together. Part of you doubt he would choose to work with you if he wasn’t sitting next to you, but you decide not to think about it too much. You don’t mind the idea of working with him on the project. He offers to work on it at his place the following Saturday, as his dad and stepmom are in California for family matters.

It takes you twenty minutes to reach Cherry Lane. Billy’s house is about halfway there. His navy blue Camaro is parked out front, and as you approach, you see him on the opposite side of the car, rubbing a sponge against the back window. It’s warmer than usual, and he’s wearing a white tank top with basketball shorts. He notices you approaching and greets you with a nod, a cigarette clutched between his lips.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you greet back. You see a young red-haired girl walking past Billy. She has a skateboard under her arm, baggy jeans, and a short-sleeved T-shirt. She sees you, momentarily startled, and slows down, her blue eyes scanning you with detachment. Billy walks in the open garage, leaving you alone with her. You greet her with a hesitant wave of your hand, introducing yourself.

“I’m Max,” she replies. She must be Billy’s stepsister. He mentioned her a couple of times.

“Did you bring the books?” Billy returns with a bucket of water, setting it down beside the car.

You lift your linen shoulder bag slightly, indicating that your books are in there.

You feel Max’s eyes on you. Her blue eyes soften slightly, and she seems to recognize something. “You’re the girl who called last week, right?”

"Yes, that's me," you nod with a small smile. 

Max nods in acknowledgment, silently. She then sets the skater down on the ground. “You’re the first one who comes over to actually study.” 

An embarrassed smile breaks out on your face at her innuendo and you look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. The image of Billy with a girl while...no, you can't think about it.

“Piss off, Max,” Billy grumbles around his cigarette as he squeezes the sponge over the bucket, then jostles it twice to get rid of the water before scrubbing the windshield. 

Max rolls her eyes, but steps on her skateboard. She gives you a small smile. “See you.”

“Bye, Max.” you watch her skate away along the road.

“And don’t go too far,” Billy calls over the roof of the Camaro.

For a moment you get lost watching how the muscles of his back move under the tank top as he rubs the side of the car sponge.

“Almost done.” he calls over his shoulder. 

“You’re taking good care of it.” you observe as you approach the car, your hands tucked into your back pockets.

“You bet your sweet life I do. This baby cost me a good amount of money.” 

“When did you buy it?” you lean against the tree near the uneven stone steps leading up to the entrance of his house.

Billy takes the cigarette from between his lips, puffing some smoke into the air. “I was sixteen. Worked at a garage near my house for a couple of years before that. The owner found her after being on the hunt for months. She had roughly 10,000 miles on her already and was a little banged up. So, I had to use my savings and kept working there for a few months to pay for the repairs.”

He puts the cigarette back between his lips and pours the bucket of water over the car, washing off the soap. Then he takes a few steps backward until he’s next to you as he takes in the newly washed car.

“Not bad, huh?” 

“She’s really pretty.” you confirm with a nod. 

You've never been particularly enthused with cars, but you must admit that Billy's Camaro stands out in Hawkins. Moreover, the care he takes of it only enhances its shiny navy blue colour.

“Just like you.” 

You turn toward him, caught by surprise by his comment. As you do, he’s just taking the cigarette from his mouth after another drag, his eyes revealing a faint warmth that’s hard to perceive, blurred by the seemingly bored look his long lashes give him. But you see it. Even if for a second, you see it. The smoke curls lazily around him.

He luckily saves you from any clumsy answer, jerking his chin toward the house. “Come on, let’s get inside.”  

You hum while nodding in obligement, walking toward the house so he can avoid your flustered expression. Billy follows closely behind you, resting his hand on the back of your neck as you walk up the stone steps. He’s been doing that quite a few times. It’s nothing crazy, not an open hug or anything, but to you, his touch makes your heart glow and fills you with a comforting warmth. The house has a front screened porch, where two plants in a pot rest on the floor. You spot a grey rocking chair on the right side. 

“I like it.” you say. You wish you had a porch.

“Yeah, sometimes Max sits over there to read.” 

It’s a simple house, you notice, with modest furnishings. You both walk into Billy’s room, and you take in your surroundings. It’s a simple room. Apart from his bed, a few pieces of furniture, a mirror, and a wardrobe, there are things distinctly him that give the room character and warmth. Hanging on the wall are posters of bands like Metallica and Mötley Crüe. You also notice a stereo with two speakers. On the fireplace, there are some books.

“You brought it with you?” you ask with a smile, pointing to a yellow surfboard fading to green, leaning against the wall.

Billy sits on the bed, leaning his back against the wall. “Yes. It was out of the question for me to leave it in Cali.” with a wave of his hand, he invites you to come and sit next to him. 

You sit gingerly on the bed, books on your lap as he pops a piece of chewing gum into his mouth and offers you one. You take it, thanking him. Sitting so close, the warmth of his body seems to transfer directly from his thigh to yours.

“Are you gonna go back?” you ask, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You pull your pencil case and a notepad out of your bag.

Billy snorts. “Hell yeah. I’m not staying here.”

It shouldn’t, but his statement stings a little. At the end of the school year, he will leave. After all, it was a foregone conclusion. There’s nothing to keep him here; his home is in California. He never told you specifically why he moved here. You had asked, jokingly, if his parents wanted "a change of air," and he had replied, ‘Something like that,’ without adding any explanation. So you had not pressed the issue any further. You learned that about certain things, Billy did not feel like talking. He clams up even more. If he wants to, you decide, he will open up to you.

“Yeah, I get it.” 

“Might work during the summer to save some money, though.” 

“There’s a garage downtown.” you offer, remembering what he said earlier.

“I was thinking more about the pool. Heard they pay very well.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah. Heather works there during summers,” he says, grabbing the history book from his bedside table and putting it on his lap.

“Heather Holloway?”’ you ask, your finger lingering along the edge of your notepad. 

There is only one Heather at school. Billy must be talking about her. She’s a pretty girl who comes from a good family. Her dad owns the Hawkins Post. She’s got it all.

“Yeah, you know her?”

“Oh, not directly. But yes, I know her. Her dad is pretty respected in town.” you bite your lip, fighting the urge to ask how he knows her. Are they friends? Did he date her? Is he still dating her?

You conclude it's none of your business, and thinking about it makes you feel weird. So you change the subject, finally opening the book and proposing to start working on the project. In between, you see Max walking past his room from the open door, her skateboard under her arm. After an hour of working, Billy stretches and a yawn escapes you. He lights a cigarette, inspiring a long puff of smoke, and titls his head up, looking at the ceiling. When he exhales, he also seems to sigh with relief. You realize how much smoking seems to be a way for him to relax, a need. 

“When did you start smoking?” you ask before you can stop yourself. Then immediately rush on adding “If you don’t mind me asking”.

“Must’ve been fourteen.” he says, “A friend of mine, Wayne, had been smoking for a year or so. Tried from his cig’ once, never went a day without smoking from there.” 

You hum pensively. 

Billy lolls his head to the side, a lazy smile plastered on his face. “You must think I’m fucking up my health, huh?”

“No, no.” you shake your head. Then you reconsider. “I mean…yes,” at which Billy starts laughing, a low gravelly laugh. “But, I know it must be hard to stop too, once you start. I can’t know, I’ve never tried.”

A second later, his cigarette appears in front of your eyes. He arches an eyebrow at you, looking at you expectantly. 

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” 

“Ah, come on. It’s not like you’re gonna get addicted after one drag. Live a little.” he gently nudges your thigh with his. 

You look at the cigarette with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. You've always wanted to try it, not because you want to start smoking, but just to confirm if it tastes bad so you can put the thought to rest.

“Okay. Just once, though.” you gingerly take the cigarette from between his fingers, holding it awkwardly and feeling as if it might fall off any second. You bring it to your lips, feeling his eyes on you. 

“Take it slow.”

It’s easier said than done. As soon as you breathe in the smoke, the end of the cigarette burning bright orange wildly, your lungs get filled with an unbearably burning sensation. You feel on fire. You can’t breathe. You start coughing non-repeatedly, your vision going blurred. 

Billy laughs again, taking the cigarette from your fingers as you try to fill your lungs with air. “Jesus, I said to take it slow.” 

Your face turns red from the effort, and your eyes water. You can't help but glare at him briefly as tears escape, your nose scrunching in disgust. He reaches out with his other hand, cups the side of your face, and gently brushes your tears away with his thumb.

“Breathe, now,” he says between chuckles.

“I don’t like it. It’s gross.” 

You say it both because you mean it and because it keeps you grounded under his touch. When he settles back against the wall, your heart keeps hammering against your ribcage.

"You're cute," he says before taking a drag, as if he's talking about the weather, and it only makes your flush an impossibly darker shade of red.

After he finishes his cigarette, Billy asks if you're hungry. You both head into the kitchen, and you sit at the table while he makes tuna sandwiches. He tells you it was the first thing he learned to make for himself when he was younger, back when his father used to work late before marrying Max's mother. He had to fend for himself. Over time, he learned to cook more dishes, especially when his father and stepmother were away for the weekend or running errands. A few years ago, he started weightlifting, which motivated him to learn even more about cooking. Despite all that, he still enjoys tuna sandwiches. Billy puts the sandwiches in the toaster and serves them to you on plates. As you take a bite, the taste of pickles and mayonnaise gives it an extra kick. It's delicious.

“Hey, can you make me one too?” Max emerges from the hallway, leaning against the kitchen doorway. 

Billy looks up from the cutting board he’s chopping pickles on as he makes his own sandwich, scowling at her. “Make it yourself.”

“Come on, you know I’m not good at this.”

“Well, you better learn how to make it. It’s a fucking tuna sandwich, not rocket science.” 

Max sighs, almost exasperated. "Fine, you stubborn ass. I’ll make it myself, but don’t cry to me when your precious pickles are all gone."

Billy looks up, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Hey! Language," he chides, pointing the knife in her direction, as if he hadn't sworn himself just a moment ago. He then gestures toward the empty chair beside you. "And sit down, if you want me to do it.”

Max quietly sits down next to you, a cheeky smile plastered on her face. Billy mutters under his breath, resuming chopping down the pickles. 

“With loads of mayo, please.” 

You’ve never seen Billy in a step-brother role before, and the dynamic between them is intriguing. You're suddenly curious about their relationship and how it has evolved since they first met.

“You’re lucky I’m even making this for you,” he grumbles, spreading the mayo generously on the bread.

“This is really good.” you say, pointing at your sandwich. 

“Yeah, Billy’s tuna sandwiches are rad.” Maxine approves. Then she shrugs. “He's an asshole, but if there's one thing he's good at, it's cooking.”

“Woah, thanks Maxine.” he ironically says. “Really portraying me well here.” 

You chuckle softly under your breath as Max ignores him, carrying on. “Can I go to Family Video later? I need to give back the movies.”

“Later when?” he asks as he assembles her sandwich. “We gotta work on the school project.”

“Like, in an hour?” 

“You’ll have to wait ‘till I drop her home.” 

Max huffs. “C’mon, Billy. I can skate there, it’s mid afternoon.”

“Ain’t no way I’m letting you go there on your own. It’s on my ass that Neil will be then.”

“I’ll be back before they’re home!” she tries again. “And I’ll bring back some good stuff.” 

You watch as Billy sighs heavily, walking in silence over to the table and setting Max’s dish in front of her. Then he points his finger at her, looking at her hard. “I’m warning you. If you’re not back here by four we’re gonna have a serious problem.”

Max mutters something along the lines of “Yeah, jeez, okay” as Billy walks back toward the counter.

He shoots a mildly warning look over his shoulder, his eyes glinting sharply. “And you better bring back some good stuff this time.”

Max gasps in outragement. “It wasn’t that bad!”

“It was crap.” 

Max turns toward you. “Have you watched Children of the Corn?”

“I don’t think I have.” you say. “What’s it about?”

“It’s a horror movie.”  

“Oh. I don’t really watch horror movies.” you smile sheepishly.  “Too scary, I can’t sleep for months then. I’m more into comedies or romances.”

“Those aren’t bad once in a while.” Max agrees. “We mostly watch horrors, but sometimes we happen to watch romances too.”

“You watch rom-coms,” Billy stresses out, as he adds the tuna-mayonnaise mix to his toast. 

“Please. How many times did you stay on the couch until the end?

“That’s because the NBA played later at night.” 

Max arches an eyebrow in disbelief. “Oh, really? And what about all those times you pretended to get a snack from the fridge, and I caught you hanging around in the hallway, peeking at the screen?"

“Are you eating or not?” Billy cuts her, “Tic tac, shitbird. You better hurry to the videostore before I change my mind.”

It’s hard for you to hold your laugh. You look down at your plate at your half-eaten sandwich, hearing him approaching with his plate.

Max huffs loudly, standing and grabbing her plate. “Whatever. See you.”

She waves at you before disappearing in the hallway. 

“See you, Max.”

Billy sits down beside you with a sigh, taking the spot where Max was just sitting. He immediately starts eating his sandwich, and you notice he eats much faster than you. You try not to let your eyes linger on his biceps as he leans forward to take another big bite, crumbs falling onto his plate. You repeat to him that his sandwich is really good, mentioning that when you make it at home, it’s usually dry and tasteless. You just don’t know how to combine the right things, and it gets boring.

“She seems to care about you a lot,” you observe as you both finish eating, referring to Max.

Billy rubs the back of his neck, a sigh leaving his lips. Then he leans back on the chair. “Yeah. Things weren’t, ah…things are better now.”

“You didn’t get along at first?” you tentatively ask.   

“Yeah, not really. Moving together was tough. But I was a dick back then.”

“You?”

You can kind of see it, but the person he’s shown to you is the opposite of what he’s describing. 

“Believe me, sweetheart.” he shakes his head, a rueful smirk on his face. "I'm no saint now, but you're lucky we didn't meet when I was younger.”

“I’m sure you didn’t have it easy.” you offer. 

“Well, Max didn’t either. Her dad doesn’t give a crap about her, her mom only dated assholes before my old man. Then she meets him, thinks she hit the jackpot, turns out he can compete against all of the previous ones together. They really found each other.”

“Is she bad?”

Billy shrugs. “Nah, just weak. And Neil has his way easy with weak people. He found the right woman to mold between his hands like he wants to.”

You listen to him attentively, your hand supporting your head as you rest your elbow on the table, facing him. Neil must be his dad. There’s always some distance, and coldness in the way he speaks about him. He never once referred to him as his dad. 

“It must’ve been hard for her…” you recognize. “Especially being that young.”

Billy stands, grabbing the three dishes as he grimaces. “Yeah, I was so wrapped up in my own anger that I completely overlooked that,” he says as he drops them in the sink, and then starts washing them. You stand up and bring him the two empty glasses. “Just didn’t want any of that crap. Moving in with these people I’ve barely seen a couple of times and act like a happy little family. Fuck that.” 

“Then the move…” you supply. 

"Then the move. Blamed her for all of it. Especially for the move, when in reality the whole thing was my fault. But yeah." 

Your eyes fall on his hand, noticing the harsh way he’s scrubbing the glasses with the sponge. You wonder what happened. What caused the move? What could Billy have done? You don’t want to press on it further, realizing how you could easily touch a sensitive nerve.

“Well, you seem to take good care of her. And I see how she looks at you.”

You could swear for a moment he's caught off guard, almost uncomfortable. Then he sniffs, drying his hands with a towel, his eyes wandering outside the kitchen window. "Yeah, trying to make up for all of it. It’s best to stick together in this crazy house."

There is something about all of this that puts you on edge, makes your skin prickle. Something unsettling is happening in this family. There are subtle but numerous hints you pick up on in your interactions with Billy. It's a month later that you uncover the ugly truth.

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

A couple of weeks later May finally arrives, bringing longer days and warmer weather. You can already breathe in the summer air. The trailer park seems a little less gloomy now, with trees in bloom and green grass. In the evening, you hear crickets singing from the open hayloft in the kitchen or your room. On clear, sunny weekends, you and Billy go to Lovers Lake. It's not warm enough to swim yet, but you lie on the shore or on one of the deserted docks. You often do your homework or read while Billy smokes a cigarette or dozes. Your relationship has progressed; you feel much more comfortable around him. Though you don't know each other completely yet, you've gone out enough times to welcome the occasional silence, which no longer frightens you. Slowly, you feel yourself shedding layers of your shell. You think you can consider yourselves friends.

You were supposed to hang out that morning. He was meant to come over to study at your place before heading to Lovers Lake as planned. However, today, the familiar rumble of the Camaro doesn't show up. After a few hours of hesitation, you try calling his house. A man answers, presumably Billy's dad, and informs you that Billy is not home. The rest of the day passes in anxious waiting, but Billy never arrives. You try to push away thoughts of the worst-case scenario, but as the hours drag on, those fears keep creeping back. By Sunday, still no word from him. Billy has always been the opposite of what you expected—he never ignored you at school, never stood you up. Yet now, your fear seems to be materializing. Perhaps he's grown tired of you and found more captivating company. You wonder what you could possibly offer him. You're not as interesting or outgoing as his basketball team friends, nor do you provide the same entertainment as the high school girls he's dated, or might still be dating. Perhaps he's realized that after delving beneath the surface, there's nothing particularly captivating about you.

At dinner, your dad notices something is bothering you and asks what's wrong. You barely touch your plate, feeling like an amoeba. But he's dead tired from his factory shift, and you don't want to burden him with your worries, so you lie and tell him that you're not feeling well. Later, he rises from the sofa, gives you a kiss on the head, and advises you not to stay up too late before retiring to his room. Despite the sound of the TV in the background, you feel lonelier than ever, and the resignation settling over you is almost worse than the whirlwind of emotions you've experienced all day. Hours pass, and you start to doze off curled up on the sofa, the movie you started barely catching your attention. Then, you're jolted awake by the roar of a familiar engine outside the trailer. It's as if a shot of adrenaline has pierced through your lethargy. You sit up abruptly, heart racing, straining your ears to confirm what you've heard. The noise ceases, prompting you to hurry to the door, moving slowly to avoid disturbing your sleeping dad. Your heart skips a beat when, through the window, you spot Billy's familiar silhouette in the dim light cast by the bulb outside.

When you open the door, Billy seems momentarily surprised to see you. As if he didn't expect you to open it so promptly. But then that expression is washed away by his usual smirk.

“You sure were waiting for me, huh?”

You stifle a gasp of horror at the sight of his bruised and battered face, instinctively bringing your hands to your mouth to muffle any sound that might wake your father. To say he's in a bad state would be an understatement.

"Oh my God, Billy."

Closing the front door softly behind you, you step out into the night air, standing in front of him, your concern palpable.

"Good to see you too," he jokes, but his playful expression fades as he realizes his attempt to lighten the mood isn't working.

"Oh God..."

You draw closer, taking in his state. There’s an angry bruise around his left eye, dark purple and almost black, with hints of red and blue around the edges, swollen and puffy. Traces of dried blood linger around his nostrils, and his nose is swollen, the bridge as purple as the area under his eye.

"It's fine," he says.

"Sorry... can I just..." setting aside your shyness, you gently take his face in your hands, tilting his head slightly backward. You won’t fail to notice his small wince as you do so. His lip is cut and swollen. "Does it hurt a lot?"

“Nah. It’s okay.”

"What happened?" you ask softly as you brush his chin with your thumb, almost afraid of causing him further pain.

Billy doesn't seem concerned at all, contrasting with your likely alarmed expression. He looks almost unfazed, the corners of his eyes crinkling into his usual amused expression.

"Got into a fight with a guy. He was just drunk, and I was there."

You frown in confusion. "Were you... at a bar or something?"

"Yeah, I uh...at the pub downtown. Just happened to cross paths with him. He thought I was looking at his girl or something."

"A major dick," you mutter under your breath, your eyes still scanning his cut. It looks deep, like the blood struggled to stop flowing. There's still some dried blood on his chin.

Billy chuckles, then after a moment, he speaks quietly, "Yeah, a major dick. Got him good, though."

“You didn’t clean it. It’s going to get infected, I’ll quickly get…”

“S’fine, really.” while exhaling a sigh through his nose, his hand encircles your wrists, prying yours gently away. 

You lower your gaze to his hands to examine the damage there. But that’s when you notice it. His knuckles are completely fine. There isn’t a single cut on them.

“Billy…” you hold his hands, then look at him.

He seems to pick up on what you’re thinking because he pulls his hands away, scratching his nose with his knuckles, acting as nonchalant as ever. You notice how his hands seem to twitch, like he’s got this nervousness he can’t shake off. As if he’s itching for something. Itching for a smoke. 

“I’m gonna clean it when I get home. Wanna go to the quarry? I’ve got some sweets Max forgot in the car earlier,” he suggests, nodding towards the Camaro parked behind him at the beginning of the trailer park. It's likely he didn’t want to wake anyone, especially your dad, given how late it is.

“But…”

“Sweetheart. Please,” he cuts you off. You freeze in place at the harsher tone of his last word. Billy sighs, running a hand through his curls. “M’sorry. Can we just not talk about it?” he looks tired, but not physically tired—mentally tired. You can sense the exhaustion in his gaze, a silent plea underlying his question.

A twist forms in your stomach as the reality sinks in. It confirms that something very wrong, something dark, is happening in his life. You begin to reflect on how you might have overlooked the signs. You feel the urge to ask him if the person causing him harm is who you suspect. You want to help him. But you push down those thoughts and emotions.

“Okay. Okay, of course,” you softly say. “Can I just go and grab the first-aid kit before we leave? Please.”

Billy clenches his jaw and looks away. You can see how hard this must be for him, and the last thing you want is for him to feel like he can't be vulnerable around you. 

“All right.” he finally says.

After quietly retrieving the first aid kit, you get into the car with Billy. You’re not too worried about your father waking up since he sleeps like a rock, and it’s a Friday night after all. The car ride to the quarry is unusually silent. You try to break the ice by asking Billy how the basketball game went a few days ago or how Max liked the movie you recommended the last time you saw her. However, Billy responds with noncommittal short answers, clearly not fully present in the moment. Something must be weighing heavily on his mind. Sensing his mood, you decide to fill the silence by sharing what you’ve been up to lately. You mention that your father's co-worker, Wayne Munson, who lives in the trailer right across the street, came over for coffee the other day. Wayne has a son who’s a year or two older than you. You’ve never really talked to him, as he tends to keep to himself, but he seems nice enough. Now that the weather is warmer, you often see him sitting on the porch of his trailer, either smoking or reading a book. He always greets you when you walk by or take out the trash. You know he struggled in school, having flunked twice in his senior year, but he graduated last year and now works as a mechanic downtown. Talking about the mechanic job seems to catch Billy’s interest. You remind him of the conversation you had a while back when he mentioned wanting to work as a mechanic during the summer. Billy starts to loosen up and tells you that he plans to stop by the car shop in the next few days.

On this warm night, the air is balmy and filled with the earthy scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh foliage. As he has a couple of times before, Billy parks the car near the edge of the quarry, just where the thick line of trees begins. Gravel crunches softly under the tires, the only sound of the quiet evening.

The towering trees cast shadows blurred in the moonlight, their leaves rustling softly in the warm breeze. Before he can say anything, you open the first-aid kit on your lap and gently shush him when he objects. As you gently clean the dried blood around his nostrils and the cut on his lip with an antiseptic wipe, Billy winces slightly but doesn’t pull away. You then apply a bit of the antibiotic ointment to the wounds to prevent infection. Finally, you use a gauze pad to gently dab at the bruised areas, careful not to press too hard. Throughout the process, Billy remains mostly silent, his eyes closed, occasionally taking a deep breath. The temperature feels good outside, so once you’re finished you both get out of the car. Billy rounds the car and sits on the ground with a wince, resting his back against the side of the car. So you do the same. You stand in front of the quarry. Under the pale light of the crescent moon, the quarry walls loom like ancient sentinels, their rough surfaces casting long, mysterious shadows. The water at the bottom of the quarry is a dark, mirror-like expanse, reflecting the twinkling stars above.

"Here," Billy says, holding up some green candy canes along with a pack of cigarettes. It looks different from his usual pack of Marlboro Reds, but you don’t think much of it initially.

"What flavor is it?" you ask, taking one of the candies from the packet.

"Must be sour apple."

As you begin to chew, the taste of apple indeed invades your taste buds. From the corner of your eye, you see Billy pull a cigarette out of the pack, then hear him swear.

"Shit." Billy curses. "That's a candy. Didn’t even notice it."

You see the candy cigarette between Billy's fingers and an amused chuckle escapes your lips.

"Don't worry, it's an easy mistake. Guess even tough guys can mix up their vices sometimes."

That makes him snort a quiet laugh, and even if it’s without a real smile and it’s short-lived, you managed to make him laugh a bit.

Billy leans his head against the metal of the Camaro, his hand holding the lighter dropping to his thigh. "They must be in the car."

He must be referring to his cigarettes. You remain silent for a few seconds, contemplating whether to offer to go get them for him. You look at his tired profile: eyes closed, head resting against the car, throat exposed, Adam's apple slightly prominent. Looking at his bruised face makes your stomach twist with concern, your heart sinking. At least his wounds are clean now. You feel the urge to reach out and brush aside the curl that falls over his eye. But you don’t. Instead, your gaze shifts to the quarry.

“You’ve been really smoking a lot, Billy.” 

Your words slip out quietly, as if afraid of disrupting the fragile balance of the evening. You’ve observed Billy smoking ever since you met him. Lately, though, you’ve noticed how his fingers are more often occupied by a cigarette than free of it. You’ve seen his nervous fidgeting in class—how he jitters his knee, taps the rubber end of his pencil on the desk, scratches his stubble with his knuckles, and frequently shifts position in his chair. And now, whenever you’re together, he’s pulling one out from his pack at least once.

Billy opens his eyes slightly, glancing at you. He sighs and looks away, his expression hardening a bit. "Yeah, well, it helps," he says gruffly, but there's a hint of something softer in his voice. "Don't worry about it. I'll cut back... someday."

He sees the probably worried look on your face. He’s so young, and he smokes already this much. You don’t even realize how you’re worrying at your lip. 

“I’ll try and slow down, alright?” 

You nod hesitantly as he offers you a cigarette candy that you take. 

“Just ‘cause you can't stand the smell of smoke.” he teases you, his eyes sleepy and slightly amused. 

“What? I…that wasn’t…” you stutter, feeling embarrassed he caught you. “That’s not why I think you should stop! It’s for your health…”

“But it bothers you too,” a grin forms on his face as he reaches out, and before you can stop you he pinches right above your knee, making you jump and squeal in surprise. He’s learned how ticklish he makes you, and he’s never stopped teasing you with it ever since. l “I know you do.”

“Stop! Stop it!” 

“You alway scrunch up your nose like it’s the most disgusting thing in the world.”

“Stop it, okay!” you try to free your leg with a high-pitched laugh as he tries to pinch you again. “You’re right, I hate it! Hands off, now.”  

You push his hand away as he finally relents, trying to catch your breath. Billy shakes his head in amusement. He tugs at his candy stick with his teeth.

“Knew it,” he says. 

You simply take another candy from his hands, avoiding his gaze as he chews on his. You’re hyper-aware of how flushed you are now, embarrassed that he noticed. You didn't want him to realize that his smoking bothered you.

“I haven’t even realized I do that…” you then say, breaking through the quiet.

“It’s kinda cute.”

His comment makes your heart race and your face flush even more. You glance down, fiddling with the wrapper of the candy in your hand. “Thanks”, you mumble softly, barely audible.

“You sure as hell would make a good nurse.” he mumbles then, shifting his position, wincing a bit and you notice how he brushes his hand over his left side. “All caring and everything. You took care of my wounds pretty well.”

If it wasn’t for what he just said, you would ask him if he got hurt there as well. You try to mask your embarrassment with a casual shrug. "I don't think I'd like being a nurse," you say, managing to keep your voice steady. "Too much pressure and responsibility."

Billy nods, taking your words in stride. "Fair enough," he says. "Then what would you like to be?”

You let out a soft sigh, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the question. "I don't know," you admit, staring down at your hands. "It's hard to figure out."

"Tell you what, it’s pretty simple," Billy says. "What do you like?”

You lift your eyes from your hands, a bit surprised by his question. “What do you mean?”

Billy pops another candy in his mouth. “See, I like cars and I’m pretty good at working on them. So, I know I’m gonna be a mechanic.” he lazily gestures at himself, then at you. “What do you like?”

You ponder his question for a moment, thinking about the things that bring you joy. "I like to take pictures," you say finally. "Especially portraits of people. Capturing their expressions, their emotions... it feels special."

"Then you should be a photographer," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

You smile at his straightforwardness, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Maybe," you say, considering the possibility.

Billy leans his head back against the car. "You know, the guy I was working for in San Diego once told me something," he says. "He said that at the end of the day, it's simple. You need to find something you like and you're really good at, then make it your job. That's how you'll make it in life."

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. "That makes sense," you say softly. 

Photography has always been your favorite hobby. Until recent dramatic events, you used to do it a lot. You have a lot of pictures in the drawer of your desk. Billy tells you he wants you to show them to him sometime. He also says it’s a shame you stopped and that you should start doing it again. You haven’t spoken specifically about your mom leaving yet. You’ve noticed he’s very sensitive about it, careful not to push your boundaries. He’s never asked questions. However, tonight he simply tells you that if photography makes you happy, it’s important to not give up on it, as passions have a way of pulling us through hard times.  You realize how Billy has a way of making things simpler, of helping you see what's important. And in that moment, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for his presence in your life.

You stay at the quarry until two am, and it’s when you start yawning repeatedly that Billy says it’s time to go. Sitting in the car, despite the warm weather, feels good as the night has gotten chilly. You feel sleepy, but nonetheless, you continue to think about the current situation. You don’t want Billy to go home, there’s something that makes you feel on the edge, you want to talk about it with him so bad but don’t even know how to approach the subject. Despite that, sleep starts to take over you, but once halfway through the ride to the trailer park, a brownish silhouette crosses the road in front of you.

“The fuck.” Billy floors both the clutch and the brakes, and you’re thankful for having your seatbelt on. Your body slams forward and back again, and you hit your head against the headrest for the impact. 

A deer, froze into place a few seconds before, rushes toward the the other side of the road, running wildly and disappearing through the trees.

“Ouch.” 

Billy heaves a loud sigh. “God…frickin’ stupid forest.” 

Your heartbeats slow down as you recover from the surprise, your hand feeling the back of your head. 

“Yeah, we have lots of them here,” you mumble. 

“Jesus.” he looks then at you. “You alright?” 

His hand comes up, touching yours so you drop it. He gently rests it on the back of your head where it still throbs. It’s warm and big. He literally could crush you if he wanted to. But his touch is soft. 

“It’s fine.” you squeak, the sudden touch making you burn. 

“Hurts a lot?” he mutters’, his thumb petting the skin at the nape of your neck. 

“A little bit. It’s gonna pass.”

“Alright.” he relents after a few seconds, then pushes on the gas again. 

The remainder of the car journey passes in silence. Billy stops exactly where he had stopped before, the headlights briefly illuminating the 'Forest Hills' panel before he switches off the engine. Darkness envelops you, blending with the night's silence and the quiet of the car. You're not quite sure what to say. You're uncertain how to bid him farewell. Truth be told, you have no desire to say goodbye to him. The last thing you want is to let him go, sensing that he will likely return to danger as soon as you step into the house. 

"I'm sorry," he says, breaking through the quiet.

You turn toward him, confusion and surprise evident in your expression. "For what?"

"For standing you up."

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not though.” you can see him shake his head from the corner of your eye. “That was a dick move. Could’ve at least called you.” 

Turning your whole body towards him, you lean against the passenger seat. Now that a couple of hours have passed, his eye is swollen and darker.

"Billy, it's okay. Really. I know you..." you hesitate, then look down at your hands, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. You try to find the right words, careful not to touch the subject again, especially not to delve into details. "I know you weren't at the pub earlier."

At these words, Billy turns his head and looks away, towards the window. Sensing his discomfort, you hurriedly continue speaking. "And that's alright. I don't need you to explain yourself to me. I get it. I just want you to know that I know. 

Tentatively, you extend your hand towards his, resting on the shift gear. Holding your breath, you anticipate a possible rejection. 

“And I understand."

Billy doesn't shoo you away but remains as still as a statue, his elbow resting against the window, his knuckles against his mouth. Your heart tightens as you imagine the pain hidden beneath the shield he wears, the horrors he must have endured so far. Just as you begin to release the pressure on his hand, preparing to withdraw, Billy sighs and turns his hand palm up, slipping his fingers between yours and squeezing. His touch is warm, sending an electric signal throughout your body, causing your heart to leap. Reassured by his welcoming touch, your thumb caresses the back of his hand.

“I know we haven’t known each other for long,” you say softly, careful not to disrupt the fragile connection between you. “But I care about you. And I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Billy rests his head against the headrest, his eyes closed. He squeezes your hand. “Thanks, sweetheart.” his voice is low and gravelly, as quiet as yours.

You stay like this for a moment, perhaps him relishing in the weight lifted by your confession, and you in his acceptance of your attempt to bridge the gap between you.

“I should go now.” you whisper, glancing at the house, though that’s the last thing you want to do. 

Billy releases his hand from your grip and then reaches for his pack of cigarettes in the center console, his gaze avoiding. “Yeah, it’s late.”

“Will you be okay?” you ask him. 

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

Even as you look at him, Billy avoids making eye contact with you. He takes a cigarette, lighting it up, the flame piercing through the darkness and briefly illuminating his bruised face. It's as if he's peeled back one layer too many for his liking. You understand this, though it leaves you feeling distant from him. You miss the warmth he usually radiates. Quietly accepting the situation, you purse your lips and reach for the door handle. 

You glance back at him, failing to lock eyes with him as he exhales the smoke whilst tilting his head back. “Try to rest. And…uhm, call me if you need it. Please.”

Billy merely nods. “Yeah. Night.”

As you walk toward your house, the chilly night air envelops you, and you try to shake off the feeling of helplessness and emptiness that grips you. You're still trying to wrap your head around it, to accept the extent of his condition. It's kind of a shock.

As you hear his car door slam, you turn back to him.

"Did you forget something?" you ask, keeping your voice low as he approaches, the cigarette dangling between his fingers.

You don't understand his actions as he draws closer and closer, and for a second your body tenses, until he reaches out and pulls you toward him. It’s only when you’re pressed against his body that you realize he has his arms wrapped around you. Speechless, you allow your arms to encircle his neck, his face nuzzling into your neck, his breath mingling with your hair. You can sense the weight of unspoken words in the fierceness of his embrace, his forearms pressing against your back. Standing on your tiptoes to meet him, you ease the strain as he's slightly bent over you due to his height. But it doesn’t last long, so you simply allow yourself to be engulfed by his tall figure. You hope he can't feel how fast your heart is pounding against your chest, but at the same time, you find yourself not caring. Relief washes over you as the distance he had put between you earlier dissipates into the night air. And it feels good. You could easily get used to all of this. The butterflies in your stomach, the profound happiness as he’s everywhere, around you, against you. You realize that you could stay like this forever, and the thought scares you.

After what feels like an eternity, yet somehow not enough, he finally pulls away. Your hair is tangled with his, and with a gentle touch, he first separates his from yours. Then, with the same hand, he carefully sweeps your hair behind one of your shoulders. With his other arm releasing you, he taps the cigarette with his finger to release the ashes. His eyes carry a sleepy gaze, and this time you're certain they're sleepy in every sense of the word. Nonetheless, they bore into yours with the same overwhelming intensity.

“You sleep tight, okay?” 

You nod a couple of times, still speechless and unable to function by his proximity. 

As you watch his retreating form and assured stride, you feel your heartstrings pulling more strongly towards him with each step he takes, as if he's carrying your heart with him.

[muldermuse]

I can perfectly see Billy as a new dad, suddenly loving the smell of baby powder, laying down in bed next to his baby watching their little arms and feet move and kick, and hearing the sounds their make trying to make out a ‘ma’ or ‘da’ from the sounds, absolutely adoring their cute shrieks and laugh💖

+ this req: Can we get butcher headcanons with his babies when they’re like, newborn and still tiny? The ask of his baby gurgling up at him and the baby stretches is such a soft image I can’t 😩❤️

yes yes yes yes all of this is perfect

he takes to it really naturally, which I think you’re both kinda taken aback by. maybe it’s because your daughter recognises that this is the man who spoke to her for months or because he’s so big and safe but she settles for him. not all the time but enough to convince you that he’s a natural

when the baby monitor breaks out in a cry late at night, he’s murmuring to you that he’s got it, “y’need your beauty sleep lovey, not an ugly cunt like me” pressing a sleepy kiss to your forehead. you’re on the cusp of sleep when you hear chatting away to your baby, “now now now, what’s all this crying about then?”

he’s more protective than he’s ever been, you were at a coffee shop together and you started breastfeeding, when you left to change your daughters nappy the guy behind you said you were ‘flashing’. Billy spins around that quick hes amazed his neck isn’t in 2 broken parts. “listen ‘ere cunt, i hear you say any shite like that again, I’ll ram that fuckin’ mug so far down your throat it’ll be in your fuckin’ shoes- alright?” he mumbles an embarrassed apology and leaves

takes a million pictures, sends them to hughie and MM

becomes a swaddle expert, like you think he might have been practicing without you knowing. LIVES for the big stretch your baby does once they’re out of it

as soon as your daughter starts sounding words out (like ma and da), butcher is smiling in delight exclaiming that she’s a ‘fuckin’ genius’

[super-cosmic-library]

kiss with a fist (better than none)

written for @steddie-week day 2 I prompt: hands

wc: 1299 I rated: M I tags: omegaverse, dubious consent, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington I cw: mentions of billy hargrove I [ao3]

Steve has only ever known the cruelness hands bring. The sting of his alpha father’s fist, when he acted too much like an omega. The hollow promises penned by his omega mother, who couldn’t stick around, even for her only pup. The pain of a kick or a shove given to him by partner after partner, who all claimed their actions were out of love. It’s no wonder Steve’s wires got crossed.

When Billy beats the shit out of him in the Fall of their senior year, Steve can’t help but wonder if the alpha loves him too. And when the man continues to beat and harass him throughout the rest of high school, he assumes he’s being courted.

When Billy dies in the summer of ‘85 after the hands of a stranger had bloodied the omega up, he can’t help but fall into rejection sickness.

He closes himself off from the rest of the world, only pretending to be fine when the kids ask for him. Even then, he’s too blinded by his own heartache to see that Max is suffering from the loss too. The only one to know he’s sick is Robin. The beta had bullied her way into his heart through drug-addled confessions on a bathroom floor.

In the months following that awful July, she forces her way into his life and home, making sure he eats and tries her best to distract him from his sorrow. And it works. Over time, he learns how to take care of himself again. On several occasions, she even gets him to laugh again. But it’s not quite enough.

It’s not Robin’s fault, no matter how much she acts like it is. She’s a beta, after all. How could she know what he needs? And how would she be able to give it to him? He tries to reassure her of this. His body needs the embrace of an alpha. He needs the comfort of a nest. But Billy is dead, and when his father was around, he’d never felt safe enough to learn how to make a nest. The ones Robin tries to help him with never feel or smell right.

So, he tries to get by with what he can. He starts dating again. The attention of an alpha brings him some level of comfort, but then when he learns he isn’t wanted for more than a night of fun, he finds he feels worse than before. So, he goes back to his lumpy nest and curls up with Robin, watching cartoons until the world around him numbs enough for him to fall asleep. 

It goes on like this week after week. He’s too tired to watch after the pups in his pack. He doesn’t see how the group has been slowly drifting apart. He knows some of the pups found a new person to idolize. Super senior alpha Eddie Munson is all Dustin can talk about whenever he stops by Family Video. If he could find it in himself to care more, Steve would fight back against the feeling of being replaced. But he doesn’t.

And life goes on.

March of ‘86 rolls around and with it the Upside Down rears its ugly head. Dustin and Max, who’s looking worse for wear, rush into Family Video, talking a mile a minute about how Eddie has gone missing. While he might not be the biggest fan of the guy, he knows the alpha is important to the pups, so of course he agrees to help find him. Besides, the search is a nice distraction from the ever-present ache in his chest.

When they enter Reefer Rick’s decrepit boat house, Steve imagines himself as a Scooby Doo character investigating a haunted old mansion. For the first time since the Fourth of July, he feels a bit like himself again. He’s heckling Dustin, and Max is snarking at them both, while Robin rambles on about the dangers of tetanus. The three of them don’t even notice the saltwater smell of a feral alpha.

Steve’s attacking a tarped boat with a wooden oar when it happens.

Hands grab him, forcing him up against a post. The jagged glass of a broken bottle grazes his mating gland. Distantly, he hears Robin freaking out, while Dustin tries his best to reason with a near-feral Eddie. 

The alpha doesn’t seem to notice the pup. All his focus is trained on Steve, who’s overcome by the smell of ozone and the wide brown eyes staring into his soul.

Slick runs down his legs, soaking through his jeans. He lets out a needy, involuntary whine.  

Madness and longing are slowly creeping into his being, but they feel entirely different than what he’s experienced over the past nine months. He feels like he did when Billy had towered over him in the Byers’ old home but more intense.

Glass breaks the skin on his neck as Eddie starts to rut up against him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his friends advance to help him, but Eddie lets out a sharp growl. He somehow knows that if he could, he would be growling too.

The broken bottle clatters to the ground. The alpha places his arms against the post on either side of Steve, shielding him from his friends. The action makes his knees weak and his head light.

“Eddie, it’s me, Dustin,” the pup says in a calm voice. “We come in peace. Please release Steve, and we can talk.”

Steve has to squeeze his eyes shut in order to force the words out. “No. I wanna . . .”

He nuzzles against Eddie, who’s been scenting him. It’s been so long since he’s felt the care of an alpha, that he loses his train of thought. His mind feels sluggish. His sole attention is on the hard line of the alpha against him.

Robin ushers the pups out, understanding in a way that only a soulmate could, that this is exactly what Steve’s body needs. Later, he’ll figure out a way to thank her. And to apologize for surely scarring her and the pups for life. For now, he nips at Eddie’s musky skin.

With rough hands, Eddie shoves him to the ground. Seams rip as the alpha tears off their clothes. Laid out bare beneath him, the feral beast runs his hands over Steve’s skin, threading his fingers through his chest hair and kneading at the bit of extra omegan fat around his belly.

“Mine.” Eddie’s voice sends shivers straight down to his toes.

Eddie pushes Steve’s knees up to his chest, leaving bite marks that break the skin on his calves and thighs. His heart flutters. Unlike the other alphas he had slept with, who had demanded he present to them, Eddie wants to look him in the eyes and see the pleasure he wrings out of him. The omega swoons.

When he fucks him, it’s rough and desperate and just what he needs to feel levelheaded again. Eddie pounds into him with so much force, he pushes Steve against the weathered floor. His skin catches on each splinter, leaving hundreds of tiny cuts that will make laying on his back uncomfortable for at least a week. The prospect of having lasting marks from their union fills Steve with excitement.

Eddie’s knot expands inside him, filling him with warmth and pups. Before he knows what’s happening, the alpha’s razor-sharp teeth sink into the omega’s mating gland. 

Euphoria rushes through him. Finally, he has someone who will love him the way his inner omega needs and will not leave him.

The alpha presents his neck to him, and he bites down, blood filling his mouth, completing the bond.

And for the first time since July, Steve feels like he can finally breathe. 

[sunny-mercya]

Wasted

Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Masterlist

H a v i n g t h e T i m e of my L i f e !

D i g g i n g t h e D a n c i n g Q u e e n

«Where's [Name]?» a question Billy shouldn't have asked Stu—he looked like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyed and a flicker of realisation and panicky fear in them.

«Stu. Where is [Name]?» Billy repeated again, harsher this time, demanding even. Giving his boyfriend a expectantly look, brow raised, a sort of glare it was—the kind of which a parent would give, when they aren't being amused and mildly disappointed with what their child did.

Stu feels like this metaphorical child. His hands getting clammy, eyes darting around from side to side, everywhere and anywhere—even focusing on those, in his humble opinion, absolutely ugly paintings which hung on the walls alongside the staircase, just so he doesn't have to look at Billy and getting this....this look of disappointment from him. Though when Stu accidentally did, he winced visibly.

Now, this was a situation—one of the rare occasional ones—where Billy, who's normally an composed person, was feeling restless and a tiny amount of fear spiking up in him.

This wasn't one of Stu's many parties, where they have established unofficial rules to what was allowed—in drugs and alcoholic beverages wise and where they have control over everything—this was the party of an stranger, a person Sidney (or had it been Tatum or another one of their friends?) was acquainted with, from over next town.

A party, where the two couldn't keep a proper watch over you. Couldn't keep you out of harms way—and it wasn't like, that you neither could hold your own or defend yourself in dire times of need. You're perfectly capable of such things. But, for them, you're their precious little boy—which they just, if they could, would love to lock up and keep safe.

And Stu had one fucking job this night, keeping you near him. Yet in the end, Stu had failed in it, managed to lose you in this crowd.

Billy was craning his neck, straining his muscles and he even could feel a pull at it. Trying to find you in that cramped mass of human strangers. Stu, standing behind Billy on the staircase, being a lot taller then his friend, swirled his head from right to left. He too trying to spot you, your mop of (h/c) hair or the clothes you are wearing. No avail.

An underlaying panic, deep buried in their pits of stomach, sets itself free. Rising up and giving them side stabs. Leaving goosebumps on their skin and a tingle down their spines.

«Fine. We're going search for him together. [Name] can't be that far.» a string of cruses left Billy's mouth afterwards.

~~~

You swayed from side to side, trying to find your way back to the house as you wandered through the backyard, a rather big one with lots greenery, some trees and a stony path. You hoped at least that you were still in the backyard, sight a bit too blurry to tell what all the difference blobs are.

A hiccup here and there left your mouth. Swallowing your own salvia and taking another sip from your cup, drowning the last rest. Wanting the sandy dryness to get away.

A few minutes later and your mouth was dry again. You drunk enough to have your body being hydrated. More limo and soft drink than alcoholic beverages, besides a few shots and one or two cups of beer.

So getting a dry mouth within seconds was a bit weird, so you thought. Did you always had such a excessive sweating? And since when was the night so warm?

You stopped your walking, just standing there wherever that was, because it sure doesn't look like a backyard anymore (and perhaps it never has.)

Taking one step forward, still wanting to continue your way back and in the next moment of seconds, you felt a wave of air around you. Falling and your face hits the asphalt.

The small shock shook your mind awake form the haze. Turning onto your side, you tried to sit up. Needing a few tries before you accomplished it. The few glass shards, which laid around, digging into your palms—leaving bloody cuts.

Huh, funny, the blurry dots which comes flying nearer and nearer, reminded you a bit of your boyfriends—the colours seemed to fit the dots so well.

You snorted loudly at this thought, falling onto your side again. Giggles left your mouth, waving a hand at your dot boyfriends. Dot boyfriends. Another snort.

~~~

It had taken some time till Billy and Stu had found you. First they searched inside the house, checked every room—interrupting a few people by two things; sex and taking a piss. Then they took a look around the backyard and pool area, but nothing.

A few fleeting thoughts, what if imagines came to their minds. Non of them pleasant at all. You could have been kidnapped or you going back all on your own or you even going with someone else.

They came to the same conclusion. You're wandering somewhere on the streets around and on their way out of the house—passing through the mass crowd, bumping shoulders—Billy sneered at Sidney when she gave them a confused questionably glance.

If it weren't for Sidney, this wouldn't even be happening. Not Stu was at fault.

All of this was her fucking fault.

Billy thanked whatever god might be existing above there. They didn't had to ventured through the streets for too long, till they saw you sitting in the middle of the street.

Stu helped you sit upright again, keeping his hands on your shoulders to give you hold.

Billy crouched down in front of you, holding your face into his hands. Scraping the small bits of shards away and drawing circles with his thumbs over your cheeks. You leaned into his touch—a contrast to your warm skin.

«....It's so warm....» you mumbled, blinking owlish at Billy, eyes dropping every so often.

«What happen [Name]?»

Billy watched patiently how you opened your mouth, trying to form words but all it came out was a jumble of unintelligible sounds.

Billy was concerned, even if you were drunk—fully intoxicated—you would still be able to say intelligible words.

Though you didn't look too good either; laboured shallowed breaths, ghostly pale, sweat trickling down your skin, shivering—besides you complaining about the chilly night being way too hot—pupils dilating and your nonchalantly about the cuts.

Noticing the empty cup next to you, Billy had a hunch and hoped he was wrong. The bit of leftover drink in the cup, a slight purple colour with a bitter smell, had proving his hunch correct. Drugs.

Billy narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips into a line. He crushed the cup in his hand, throwing it away. Whoever fucker had done this, they would pay this. Dying a long and painful death.

«You carry him Stu, though lets find the fucker first.»

~~~

«Bills, let us go home. [Nickname] needs to sleep and getting the drugs out his system» Stu whines a bit, adjusting his hold on your thighs again to carry you more evenly on his back. All the while you nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, moaning out complains—with a few giggles and in between incoherently talking of something—how damn hot it was, how thirsty you are and that you want some cuddles.

Stu, to keep you delighted and from falling asleep, nodded and agreed along to whatever you were saying. Giving you seriously meant answers.

Billy let go of Ben's—the asshole who drugged not only you, but also Kelly—shirt collar, leaving him leaning against the wall. Ben snickers, smirking at Billy, practically a invitation of dare.

«Aww, c'mon a bit of drugs hasn't harmed anyone. Don't get yer panties in a twist. Pretty boy is taking well, isn't he?»

A wave of anger took over Billy's face, contouring into a grimace of furiousness. Without wasting another second, Billy punched him across the face. Breaking Bens nose in process, a satisfying crack being heard.

«Try to drug him again Benny boy and I will make sure that your nose isn't the only thing I will break.

~~~

«Ya think some good ol' horror films will help our darling babe to fall asleep faster?»

«No Stu. That wouldn't be such a good idea, not with the intake of drugs. Could mess with his mind.»

Stu laid you down onto the bed, crawling next to you and pulling the covers over you and taking you into his arms. Billy coming back in the room, placing a glass of water and some pills onto the nightstand. Putting a cool washcloth onto your, already burning up, forehead.

Bill sat on the edge of the bed, caressing your cheek, swatting away Stu's hand from himself for a moment. Deciding after all in the end, to lay down next to you too.

Ben would pay for this, Billy having planning the perfect death for him.

Though this could wait for a bit later, after all you're their first priority.

D a n c i n g Q u e e n, f e e l t h e b e a t

D i g g i n g t h e d a n c i n g Q u e e n

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

[Adiós by Gustavo Cerati playing in the background] Billie: hmm well just because five dates went not-so-well doesn’t mean your love life is ruined forever Max: six. Billie: ooh…! Well yeah that’s entirely different. That’s horrendous. Max: you can be more funny about it, I don’t mind Billie: what should I be funny about? Max: how I might never be able to find someone that likes all of me? Billie: that’s silly. I like all of you Max: romantically Billie: Well- Max: and I’m just not talking about liking I also mean endure. No one wants anything to do with all my heavy shit. Max: I’ll just go back to my hookups, nothing bad ever came of that Billie: except…? Max: …Nothing Bad Ever Came of That. Billie: I think we just need a break from this whole place Max: don’t. your life is perfect. Billie: nuh uh. I’m terrified of the future, I don’t plan ahead and stuff. Just floating around here, y’know… Max: yeah, I know. Max: I tried planning ahead just once and got rejected multiple times in a row. Billie: Max, it’s HARD to be vulnerable! Ugh!!! It’s so frustrating to think about it all… Billie: RELATIONSHIPS!!! Max: chuckles Max: next time maybe I should just leave my black eye uncovered. Billie: you said it Billie: so, what should we do next? Max: I was thinking substance abuse Billie: I’m talking locations! Billie: I KNOW! Billie: being in a vulnerable position is hard, but you know what's easier? Max: yeah multiple things Billie: getting an ugly, stupid, shitty tattoo.

[fictionalwh0ree]

Hi! May I please make a Billie request where Billie realizes she has a crush on her best friend and starts acting nervous and shy around her, and Billie decides to go live one day and fans are asking about reader since she's usually always around and Bil's like "guys she makes me nervous cause I think she's super pretty" and basically admits her crush? Thank you 🥹🤗

cocktail night- billie eilish

summary: you and billie became fast friends, but the celebrity lifestyle sometimes interferes with your plans. you two finally have a free night and decide to have a cocktail night. with alcohol flowing through her veins, billie can't help but confess her crush on you to the world.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: alcohol/drinking, mild swearing

billie eilish was easily your favourite person in the world. despite having met only eight months ago, you guys had developed a bond unlike any other, spending any free time either of you had with each other. you knew you could spend every waking moment with her, and if you could, you definitely would. however, the celebrity lifestyles often clashed and while there were weeks were you could spend every day with each other, there were times where weeks would go by and you wouldn’t see each other. now was one of those dry spells where you hadn’t seen each other in about two weeks. you planned a little cocktail night together when you were both free. the idea had been your suggestion as the last couple of times you had seen your best friend, she had been acting strange. she was flustered and more quiet than usual. you blew it off as some weird way of coping with the stress and work that goes into writing and producing a new album, but thought that a couple cocktails might help loosen her up a little bit.

finally, the night arrived. you unlocked her door with the spare key she had given you and were immediately greeted by shark, who barked excitedly at seeing you. you bent down to pet him as billie ran down the stairs to meet you. with almost as much excitement as her puppy, she wrapped her arms around you in a hug while a large smile adorned her face. once she pulled away, you followed her to the kitchen.

“soooo, whats new?” she asked you.

“billie, we were on call just before i left the house,” you laughed before stuffing a couple chips in your mouth.

“but actually, this guy cut me off when i was driving and the guy behind me honked at me. i was so annoyed. the only thing that got me through the drive was reminding myself i would be drinking soon,” you vented.

“the thought of seeing me wasn’t enough to get you through the drive?” she joked, placing her hands over her heart dramatically.

“nope,” you smiled.

she kissed her teeth and looked away in fake annoyance, but the large smile on her face gave it away. she looked back over at you, your eyes locking, but only for a moment before hers dropped to the ground.

“i did miss you though, for real,” you affirmed.

“i missed you too,” she said.

“stop being so busy all the time,” billie joked.

“says you,” you laughed.

“you know, i think it would save you a lot of time if you had a muse to write about,” you joked, snagging a couple more chips.

“oh really? and who should my muse be?” she said, raising her eyebrow.

“me, duh,” you smiled.

“you’re already my muse,” she said, sending an exaggerated wink your way.

“aww, shut the fuck up,” you said, shoving her playfully.

“okay, come on lets get to drinking,” billie said, switching the subject.

you nodded in accordance and the two of you worked together, gathering everything you would need. as you prepared your cocktails, you downed a couple of shots each, leaving your prepared drinks, which were supposed to be somewhat aesthetic, a very ugly and delicious hot mess. you took your drinks into the living room and billie put on a movie. the two of you were already tipsy before having even taken a sip of your cocktail, and the movie had become background noise amongst your lively conversation.

before long, the two of you decided it was time to change into something more comfortable. thankfully, you had come prepared with matching christmas pj pants which you had bought earlier in the day. you told her to stay in her place, and she waited eagerly for you as you retrieved your bag. you pulled them out with a ‘ta da.’ she matched your energy, shrieking in excitement. she ran upstairs to get changed and as did you. once you were ready, you met her back in the living room, about to sit on the couch before the alcohol finally got to your bladder.

“i’m gonna go use the washroom quickly,” you told her.

she nodded, fidgeting with her phone. little did you know, she was going on live. the alcohol in her system making it seem like a good way to share your matching pyjama pants. she turned it on and within seconds, hundreds of thousands of people had joined. her live had just barely caught the end of your sentence, leading her fans to question where you were. the comments became flooded with comments along the lines of “is that y/n?” and “where’s y/n?”.

“yes guys, it is y/n,” billie smiled, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she slurred her words slightly.

“i came on here to show you guys our matching pj pants but she went to the washroom,” she continued.

her fans quickly picked up on the fact that she had been drinking and they had noticed the blush that got stronger with your mention.

“ouuuu she’s blushing,” one comment said.

“her cheeks r so red rn,” another one read.

“guyssss,” billie whined.

“who’s got you blushing like that 👀 👀” someone commented.

billie read it, mumbling the words slightly, before giggling.

“guys if i tell you this you can’t tell anyone okay?” she smiled, multiple fans agreeing and promising.

“y/n makes me nervous cause i think she's super pretty,” she confessed, giggling like a schoolgirl and throwing her phone. she shrieked into a nearby pillow, not fully recognizing what she had done. she picked up her phone hastily when she heard the bathroom door open. the comments were flooded with excitement and support from her fans, and of course, a lot of teasing as well.

“shhhhh, she’s coming back. remember the promise,” she said, turning back to see you a couple feet from the couch.

“what’re you up to?” you said skeptically.

“nothing,” she said innocently, widening her eyes at the camera to remind them to stay quiet.

“uh huh,” you laughed.

“i went on live to show everyone our matching pyjamas,” she said.

“well show them then,” you said.

she set her phone down against her empty cocktail glass and got up, standing next to you.

the two of you backed up until the camera captured you two fully donning your matching pants and white tank tops. she ran back to her phone and sat on the couch.

“why are you acting funny?” you smiled at her, tilting your head.

“i’m not,” she laughed.

“okay billie,” you laughed back.

you sat down next to her, setting your head down on her shoulder, causing her to blush again.

“my parents 😫😫😫,” someone commented.

“this is too cute,” another one read.

“billie u need to tell her,” one said.

“what’s up with your comments?” you asked billie, looking up at her.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, looking away.

you shook your head and looked back at the screen.

“billie said you made her nervous because she thinks you’re REALLY pretty,” a comment read.

you barely caught it as billie pulled the phone up above your face.

“you guys are snitches byeee” she said, ending the live hastily.

you sat up straight, looking at her in the eyes.

“i caught that, y’know?” you said.

“they weren’t supposed to say anything,” billie mumbled, a shy smile playing on her lips as her eyes locked on the couch cushion below her.

you laughed softly.

“so whats this about?” you asked gently, trying to coax her attention back to you.

“you read the comment,” she said, voice just above a whisper.

“say it,” you said, lifting her chin with your fingers, “tell me.”

she took a moment to meet your eyes, your faces now only inches apart as you leaned forward.

“i think you’re really pretty,” she whispered, “and i think i might like you, in more than a friend way.”

you finally leaned forward, linking your lips in a tender kiss. she leaned towards you and you leaned back until you were barely upright against the armrest. she pulled away for a moment, looking at you with a cheesy smile.

“you’re so stupid, y’know that?”

[revengeismygender]

Caleb McLaughlin once again having to address how poorly he’s treated in comparison with his white co-stars by the fan base is once again a reminder of how fucking ugly this fandom can be. The fact that Lucas is a main party member and has been since day one, has been shown having important arcs, important relationships, and has been extremely vital to the plot in every single season and yet receives far less fan attention than his white counterparts is still the reality four seasons in and there’s a reason for that.

It’s the same reason Erica gets ignored and abused by the fandom. The same reason Argyle has received 1/100th of the attention Eddie has and the reason Steddie is far more popular than Jargyle despite Jonathan and Argyle actually having a relationship (and I like Eddie and Steddie so don’t come at me I’m just saying). The same reason Billy still has an extremely devoted fan base who call him a sweet baby boi and write endless fics about him despite him canonically being a racist asshole who literally threatened Lucas’s life just because he was black. It’s the reason Caleb gets snubbed for awards despite some extremely phenomenal acting, especially in the S4 finale. (hint: it’s racism).

Anyway, Lucas and Caleb are amazing and deserve everything and I just think the ST fandom as a whole needs to be cognizant of how the (very few!) POC in the cast are treated.

[accio-motivation]

'I'm not a queer', Steve thinks when Billy pushes his cock all the way inside.

He's not a queer because before he met Billy he has not even kissed another guy and he has always enjoyed having sex with girls. Right now he's just experimenting, it's nothing serious. And he can still say that he didn't like it afterwards.

Afterwards.

After Billy made him moan like a pornstar and beg for his cock like a cheap whore.

But Steve doesn't like it.

Doesn't like the way Billy's grinning down at him right now, all smug and hot, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead.

He looks like an angel and Steve doesn't like it, so he grabs him by the nape of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Just so he doesn't have to see Billy like this anymore.

Because Steve's not a queer.

He doesn't like it when Billy hits that one spot inside of him, that makes his eyes roll back in his head. He doesn't like that the feeling of being stretched open on Billy's cock makes him squirm and whine because he feels so full. So complete.

But he hates Billy, actually.

Hates him so much that he's leaving ugly red scratch marks on his tanned back, that will look absolutely terrible tomorrow morning when he has to go back to the public pool.

Hates him so much that he's burying his fingernails in the flesh of Billy's hips which will surely leave half-moon shaped marks. Because he wants to keep Billy close. Wants his dick even deeper inside of him. Wants Billy to fuck him harder.

And Billy does.

He presses one more kiss to Steve's open mouth before he straightens his back. He grabs Steve's thighs, spreads his legs even wider and increases the pace of his thrusts. Steve moans, in protests of course, and grabs the bedsheets with both hands, because Billy fucks like an animal and Steve thinks he's going to pass out.

He doesn't like it when Billy calls him his 'good boy'. Doesn't like how warm it makes him feel. Doesn't like it when Billy tells him how pretty he looks right now. How well he's taking his cock. How perfect he is for him.

Steve's going to come like that.

Billy hasn't even touched his dick yet but he's going to come. Can feel his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.

He reaches out and puts a hand on Billy's left pec. He lets his hand travel down to Billy's toned stomach where he can feel his muscles working under the warm skin.

Steve's not into guys but Billy keeps hitting that one spot perfectly and fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!!

He moans Billy's name.

Says a few things he's not proud of. Does a few things he's going to regret for the rest of his life.

And when he comes, it's hot and loud and intense.

It makes Billy groan. Makes him slam his cock so deep inside, Steve thinks he can feel it in his throat. And then he feels something warm filling him up and it makes his already spent cock twitch.

Steve doesn't like it when Billy pulls out and he suddenly feels a kind of emptiness he has never felt before.

He doesn't like the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs. Billy's cum.

Billy.

He flops down on the bed next to Steve. Breathing heavily. One arm covering half of his face.

He looks as tired as Steve feels.

Steve isn't a queer and he doesn't like Billy but he doesn't say anything when Billy's drifting off to sleep in his bed. Doesn't wake him up. Doesn't kick him out.

He grabs the blanket to cover both of their naked bodies. Has to move closer to Billy, so they both fit, he tells himself. So close that his head is resting on Billy's chest.

Billy's heart's beating fast. Like he ran a marathon. Steve wonders if his own heart is beating as rapidly when Billy carefully puts an arm around him, keeping him close.

He doesn't really care because he doesn't like Billy. And he doesn't like guys. Not in that way, at least.

And maybe that's alright.

He doesn't have to be queer to enjoy another person's warmth. Doesn't have to be queer to like being held. Doesn't have to be queer to like the feeling of Billy's soft cock against his thigh.

Okay, maybe he's a little queer.

Just a bit.

Just for Billy.

[rzyraffek]

Slashers with y/n that just gets along with everything

Like slasher could litteraly kill somone near y/n and she would be like alr alr whats really important is that you are happy🤠😎. Im sorry that first 2character had super long headcanons while last ones have way less :( I had no ideas Request open!

Billy Lenz

He always expects some sort of negative response when he calls people and when he heard new voice on the Phone he got even more exited cuz new person new reaction! He totally didnt expect her to just go "yeah yeah sure buddy, anyways... how is your day man? Cuz im so so tired...*starts normal converstation*

He probably tries to stay in character but he is so caught of Guard he doesnt know how to react really (hehe the table has turn)

Now he kinda hopes that she will pick up cuz shes very intresting😈 billy likey

"Ew its this creep again! He is asking for you y/n? Of please dont tell me you befriended him??" "So what? He said hes favourite fruit is strawberry he cant be that bad!" *billy saying slurs on the phone*

You need to constantly tell him that, no Billy no harrasing women isnt sexy, you arent quirky, you are mentally ill

"Y/n i killed that bitch that was gossiping about you 🧍 " "👍good for you billy im glad you found healthy way to cope with that negative emotion😇" "on god"

His whole moral compass is created around the simple question 'does it hurt y/n?' .1:no it doesnt so feel free to do it .2 do not do it, she will ban Billy from sweets (bad ending)

The man from hush

This guy. This dude. This Little gremlin. He is upset that he gets no reaction! Like please oh please act all angy when he 'acidently' shot tire in her car! But oh no ofc no, she had to be like "oh its okay honey i have backup in garage🥰" hes like HHUH SINCE WHEN WE HAVE GARAGE

Like tbh thats how i imagine how they met: he saw her, he wanted to hunt her, she was so chill that she didnt even leave her household while the power was off and he went inside and just saw her having lil nap on couch. 🧍🤨erm exuse me gurl im trying to roleplay epic hunter here tf

He probably kidnaped her cuz she was too weird to just kill her but he didnt want to risk her calling police. He probably tied her up and yeeted her on backseats. And then she begun judging music on the radio"yo big guy can i get some good music taste?" "What? Whats wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He will overshare everything to kinda check where is her limit if it comes to being chill "yeah so i killed this old lady.." "im sure you had good reason🥰" "🤨... anyways... yeah so i was drinking some redbull when some guy said i look ugly so i shoot his head off and-" "HEY HEY hold up geez you CANT drink Energy drinks?? Bestie you know it is unhealthy?? Also you like hunt for sport it will ruin your condition!? How you gonna shoot people with shakey hands?? You crazy or something?" "Damn😔"

Micheal myers

I tried to put him here but i realised he will be as chill as her.

Like he can give her gifts covered in blood and she' just going to clean it and wear it like nothing happened or completley ignore it

He cares about this stuff as much as y/n so like not at all. I mean tbh theres is a bit of difrence: shes at least positive about it! Like "yeah micheal go for it, love🥰😇 i know its hard to cope with trauma take it all out alr?" Shes trying to be a good supporting gf not her fault she never had serial killer bf!

Brahms Heelshire

He lives for attention! What do you mean the war crime he commited this lunch break is okay!?!? Baby pleasee

But this negativity disapears the moment he realised he can get a lot of positive attention when he will do some nice stuff! "Oh honey I didnt kill any rats today" "oh that's amazing brahms I'm sure you and the rats inside walls will get along well soon🥰" (rats in walls bully brahms)

Please complement him or he will get a tantrum and destroy something

Brahms and rats have very hard past i might do seperate hc about that

Ghostface

"Look babe! My newest victim *shows photo*" "ugh baby...😰 you NEED to buy new camera or watch some youtube tutorials about how to take good photos" "aw man whats wrong with my pictures 😔"

Otherwise y/n supports his hobbies! People need to grow😇 (and he needs to grow up)

If theres 2ghostfaces(like in most movies) they will bet money on how long you gonna keep this 'do whatever as long as youre happy' act. Well they didnt know that this wasnt an act but her personality

Also they will probably try to use this chillnes aginst her like "oooh y/n something terrible happened! I crushed my car oh what will i do!" "Alr bestie i will drive you over there😇" "😈omg you are so nice i totally didnt expect that(heheh i dont need to pay for gas today (hes very evil))

[weird-an]

Steve is lost in a stupid dumb forest on an even more moronic quest to protect the realm from ugly monsters that come straight out of hell.

And if it couldn't get any worse, now there's noise coming from the direction he's walking to. Maybe he'll get eaten by wild animals and that's it, the end of Prince Steve Harrington, the heir who was never seen again - not that his father would notice.

He walks further, because maybe he’s not a coward or does have a bit of a death wish, and comes to a clearing. The noise gets louder. It’s not an animal.

It's a man. A blond man yelling at a motherfucking dragon.

It's roaring back and while it's the first dragon Steve has ever seen in his life, it seems to be young. It's only a little taller than the man in front of it, blue scales shining in the summer's sun. It's magnificient.

Steve steps on a branch.

Dragon and the madman in front of it turn around, staring at him.

Shit.

"Camaro," the guy grunts. He's wearing a black leather vest and leather pants, blond curls shoulder length. He's attractive, but the creature next to him steals the show.

The dragon tilts its head. Their eyes got the same colour, Steve notices somewhere between his racing heart and sweaty hands.

"You shouldn’t be here," the man says. His voice sounds rough like he isn't used to talk - maybe yelling is all he does.

"I'm Prince Harrington," Steve says, because seriously, who is this guy? "Pretty sure these woods belong to my father."

The dragon, apparently Camaro, snorts, a little flame coming out of its snout.

"Alright, King Steve," Billy growls, side eyeing Camaro like they got an inside joke. "I'm Billy. Welcome, your majesty, to my home."

These words could have been respectful, but the tone certainly isn’t. He gestures at something behind him and Steve stares at his toned arms for a moment, before seeing what he's pointing at.

"You live in a cave?" Steve can't believe it. He files away the lack of a last name (everybody got one, even if you don't want it) for later.

"You don't need to stay for dinner," Billy scoffs.

Steve's stomach churns loudly. He swears the dragon is laughing at him.

"… I wouldn't mind that," Steve mumbles.

"This isn't an invitation," Billy grumbles.

"I'm lost," Steve admits.

"Figured," Billy sighs.

Camaro bumps its snout against Billy's cheek.

"No," Billy shakes his head.

Camaro bares its teeth.

Billy rubs his face and makes a rather displeased noise. "Apparently we'll help you."

Camaro's tail waggles like its more dog than dragon. Billy pats its snout.

"She likes you." It sounds like an accusation. "Don't act stupid."

"Promise."

"There'll be rabbit for dinner." Billy purses his lips. They're very pink, Steve thinks. "You can gather wood for a fire."

There's a pile of wood next to the cave. Steve can see it. Apparently he needs to prove himself to Billy.