#Billy Hargrove pov

[runraerun]

For your wip game…. MERMAY!!!!! 👀👀👀

Ooooh I love my MerMay WIP so freaking much. Thank you so much for asking~🩵🧜‍♂️ here’s a snippet!

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Sometimes his mother would even bring back humans—dead ones, of course. One’s that she’s lured to the water's edge with her siren's song before pulling them under and holding them tight until the bubbles stop coming out of their noses and mouths.

Females need their meat to survive—males don’t. His sharp claws and teeth are only to crack shells and defend territories, while the females’ attributes are more equipped for the seduction, luring, and the breaking of the bodies of human men. To mate with them, if they wanted to.

Billy knows this is how he came to be; his mother sang her song to some dumb human who fell face first into the waves, then she’d drug him down to their cove and meticulously tore him open in order to fertilize her eggs. So far, Billy was the only offspring she’d bothered to hatch. He had wondered more times than he can count if maybe she’d only kept him around as long as she did to alleviate her own loneliness.

And even though his mother seemed perpetually disappointed over the fact, Billy’s always been sort of relieved to have been born a male. Because the truth is… he likes the humans. Likes the strange things they drop, likes to way they ride on waves, and then he likes to watch the way they kick and flailing their skinny limbs when they get knocked, trying to stay afloat. Humans are endlessly amusing—Billy’s glad he doesn’t need to consume their flesh.

It seems like something akin to fate that Billy would find his mate in a human.

[asirensrage]

Title: Late Night Discoveries Rating: T POV: Billy Warnings: Swearing. PTSD. Summary: Takes place in Chapter 50 of Tammy Thompson Takes on the Upside Down. Billy is having trouble sleeping and goes for a drive...

He’s been dreaming of this. These woods. They’ve been haunting him and he woke up from the nightmare, halfway getting dressed before he even realized he was moving. He can’t stop though. Not until he finds out what the fuck is going on. He hasn’t felt right in days. 

The forest is fucking creepy. It doesn’t help that the moon is barely half full and he’s wandering around with a flashlight. It’s straight out of a Stephen King book. He always thought those suckers had it coming, but the joke is on him now. 

Fuck. This is a fucking stupid idea but he keeps moving forward. He can’t stop. It feels like something is drawing him in, calling him even though the entire area is silent. Even the animals fucked off and left him. He should have called someone. Not that he knows anyone but still, maybe Kate at least. She had his back. When he wasn’t being an asshole. 

Something snaps to his left and he whirls on it, aiming the flashlight in the dark. “Come on out, dipshit!” he calls, sounding way more confident than he feels. He should have stayed in Cali, gone into acting or some shit. He’s good at faking confidence. He’s good at faking a lot of things. 

Nothing responds. 

“Fuck this,” he mutters. He grabs his pack of cigarettes and pulls one out. Something to calm his fucking nerves since he’s wandering the woods in the middle of the night. He tucks the pack back in his jacket pocket before grabbing his Zippo and lighting it. 

He turns back towards the car, despite something demanding he stays where he is. He doesn’t need this shit. He needs to get some decent fucking sleep so he doesn’t actually scare off the women at the pool. Not that it would deter them. He looks better than the rest of the men in this shit town. 

He points the flashlight the way he came and nearly jumps out of his skin. Someone is standing there. He drops the cigarette. “Fuck!”

He brushes it off his coat and stamps it out before getting ready to fight the figure if he has to. He can take them. 

Billy shines the flashlight up, half expecting the image to be gone like his nightmares, but it’s still there. 

It’s staring at the ground where he stomped out the cigarette. It looks human, even though he can’t really make out their features. 

“Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in the woods?” 

They look up at him, squinting in the light. They’re covered in filth. Smells worse too he realizes now that the complete shock has waned. Their head tilts slightly and he can see their mouth move. 

“What?” 

“B–” It’s a woman’s voice. What the fuck is a woman doing out here? What the hell happened to her? He can practically hear Kate’s voice in his head, telling him to at least see if she’s okay. 

“You alright? What the fuck you doing out here?”

“Ba-”

“Alright, B,” he says. “You hurt?  Lost?”

She doesn’t answer, just watches him carefully even as her eyes dart around them like she’s expecting something to jump out at them. Well, fuck that. He’s had enough surprises.

“Come on, my car’s this way.” He moves towards the way he originally came. She doesn’t. “I’m not gonna fucking hurt you,” he says. Not like he’d even want to touch her when she looks like that. “We’ll get you a ride, a snack…some clean clothes or something.” He had a blanket in the trunk. Usually, it’s for hooking up in the back seat to protect his seats but whatever, he can adjust. 

She still doesn’t move. 

Billy sighs, mentally hearing Kate remind him that people need different things, and he offers her his hand. “Come on, B.”

She looks at him before reaching out slowly. When she finally touches his hand, it’s slow and soft until she suddenly grips it tight like she’s trying to break it. 

“Jesus,” he mutters. He doesn’t comment though. It reminds him a bit of Max when they first met, before the shit really rained down on them. “Alright, let’s go.” 

It takes a bit to actually find the way to the road. He’s sure as shit lucky that he didn’t get himself more lost in these woods, but the urgency to be there has finally died down. He feels like he’s allowed to leave now. 

The woman is glancing around, touching the car and following him, still holding his hand. It’s making him more on edge the way she keeps looking like she’s expecting something else. He grabs the blanket from the trunk and she jumps when he slams it closed. Her eyes are wide and fearful and it actually makes him feel bad. Not that he’d admit it. 

He wraps it around it before ushering her to the passenger side. “You got somewhere you need to go? Home? Where do you live?” 

She doesn’t answer, just stares at him. 

Fucking hell. He considers what he’s going to do. She’s still holding his hand, even as he opens the door and rolls down the window as far as it goes. No way in hell is he letting that smell sink into his car. 

If he takes her to the cops, they’re going to suspect him. That he did this shit to her. Cops never fucking liked him, which was fine, he didn’t like them. But he wasn’t going to get shit for something he didn’t actually do. 

“Sit down,” he tells her. He has to use both hands to get her to sit before he can even close the door. She nearly scrambles out the window to reach him, keening hoarsely, and he has to call out, tell her to wait. He walks around the front so she can see him before he gets in on the driver’s side. 

She’s reaching for him before he even sits down. He’s tempted to shove her off but it’s not her fault she’s desperate for human contact. She looks like she’s been in those woods for years. He rolls down his window too.

He starts the car and gives her his hand, letting her hold it like a lifeline. There’s only one person in this place who might believe that he had nothing to do with this and would help him. He drives to Kate’s. 

She’s still holding on to him with her death grip, the hand not holding his is tightly clenched in the back of his jacket. The house is fucking dark and he knows he’s going to have to deal with Kate bitching at him for waking her up. Thank god her parents are gone. 

He rings the doorbell repeatedly and pounds on the door. He finally slows down once he sees the living room light come on. He sees her peek out the little window before the door flies open and she’s already in a rage.

“What the fuck Billy?”

“Help!” He tugs the woman hiding behind him slightly forward and he can see Kate frown as she gets a look at her.

“What happened?”

“I found her like this!” 

Kate looks at Billy but nods. Before either of them can say anything the woman moves forward, reaching for Kate with her free hand. Kate steps back automatically. He can’t blame her. He already needs to scrub several layers off of his own skin just to make sure it’s clean.

“Tam-” the woman says. “Me.”

Kate glances at Billy in alarm but nods. “Yeah, I’m Tammy. You alright? Have you eaten?” She steps back. “Why don’t you both come in?” Kate holds open the door until they enter and he turns to see her looking around outside before she closes it. She turns back to them. “Where…you’re gonna need to explain.”

“I found her in the woods.”

“It’s two am, Billy. Why were you in the woods?” She asks as she heads to the kitchen.

“I don’t know, alright? I just…woke up and had to go there.” 

She glances at him from the kitchen but doesn’t question it. Kate never does anything he expects. Not since he first ran into her. He pulls B to the kitchen. 

“She found me in there. Asked who the fuck she was, all I got was a letter. Hasn’t left me since. I figured you’d know what to do.” 

Kate puts a plate with a sandwich on the table and motions to B. “It’s for you.” 

“Go,” he nudges her. “Eat.” 

The woman grabs the sandwich but doesn’t sit, eating quickly before pausing and offering the remaining half towards Billy. He can see the grime even on the bread. He makes a face at the thought of eating that. 

“No thanks, B. You eat.” 

She stuffs it in her mouth and he turns to Kate, who’s wearing a matching expression to how he feels. 

“What the fuck are we going to do?”

“Well, first we’re going to get her cleaned up,” Kate says. “Then we’ll call Hopper.”

Billy scowls. “The cops? They’re going to drag me in saying I did it.”

“No, he won’t,” Kate assures. “If he tries, we’ll say I found her in the backyard.” 

Kate gets a trash bag for B’s clothes. “Evidence,” she says. He’ll trust her. She’s the one who works with the cops, not him. They take the woman upstairs to the bathroom…and have to deal with her freaking the fuck out when Billy doesn’t follow her in. The towel rack breaks off the wall in some scuffle before they finally reach a compromise that doesn’t involve him inside or her not getting clean. They keep the door open a crack and Billy is forced to sit outside it, reading aloud from fucking Time magazine. It's the most boring shit, but if it keeps B from breaking more things in Kate’s house, he’ll do it.

When they finally emerge, the woman looks human. She’s got a towel wrapped around her head and she looks as pale as a ghost, making her freckles and auburn hair stand out, but she looks alive. She’s dressed in a set of Kate’s pajamas and he suddenly realizes that she’s not that much shorter than him. A little shorter than Kate, but not by much. She just seemed smaller, clinging to him and hunched in whatever she was wearing. 

“Let’s go to the living room,” Kate says, tying off the garbage bag. He thinks he catches her trying not to retch as she does it. She leads the way and Billy once again finds himself with a new appendage in the shape of this woman. He takes her back downstairs. The bag is dropped near the door and Kate is handing over a glass of water before she grabs the phone on the wall. He sits down on the couch, trying not to wonder how much this is going to fuck him up, and listens as Kate dials. B sits next to him, pressed against his side like she still thinks he’s going to disappear. Not that he’d ever have a chance like this.

“It’s Kate. I need you to get here as soon as possible. Something’s happened. No, more along the lines of…well, I think it’s closer to what you’re used to here. Yeah. Okay, please hurry.” She hangs up and walks into the living room. “He’s coming.”

Billy nods but doesn’t move. Kate sits in the armchair across from them and the silence isn’t tense but it’s weird. He just found a woman in the woods…because he had a nightmare. It’s fucked up. Straight out of some bullshit on late night tv.

“You alright?” he asks the woman next to him. “Wanna talk about it?” She just shakes her head, still looking around. Her eyes keep going between him and Kate. “Not yet? Okay.” He looks over at Kate who’s watching him with a small smile. She looks tired. Of course she does. It’s nearly three in the morning now. He just shrugs. What else was he supposed to do?

There’s a knock on the door and Billy mentally calculates how fast the chief had to be driving to get here that fast. Kate goes for it and he watches as she does the same thing as before, peering out and making sure it’s someone she knows before she opens it. 

“What the hell is so urgent?” Hopper asks as he walks in. He sounds as pissed as can be expected. Kate doesn’t react though. She closes the door after him and points towards them. Hopper turns, looking at them before his mouth drops open. “Holy shit.” 

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @zeleniafic @jvstjewels @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares

ST tag: @happinessinthedarkesttimes

[blushweddinggowns]

The Billy POV is up! I know it's super weird I wrote this one first but inspiration is a fickle mistress.

This is NOT required reading for The Universe Trapped in Your Skin at all!

[makeadealwithdean]

endless billy 1/? - Stranger Things 2x02 - “Trick or Treat, Freak”

[harringroveera]

Steve after an argument with Billy

(Billy’s side)

[dragonflylady77]

a royal wedding

Rating: G | 613 words | fluff

C3 - blazing sun for @harringrovesummerbingo

Summary:

Max takes her daughter and her daughter's best friend to the beach and overhears them talking about a royal wedding between a prince and a king with very familiar names...

The fic on Ao3

The Vanity of Devils is a real book, written by Mikayla Rand and you can find it here on the zon if you feel like looking it up. It's a paranormal romance with demons and other creatures. The author is one of my besties and I love that book so very much.

Max leaned back on her elbows, her eyes never leaving the two little girls playing in the sand a few feet away. She was glad she’d remembered the sun umbrella this time and taken the time to slather everyone with sunscreen. She had gotten sunburned one too many times growing up and didn’t take any chances with anyone’s skin anymore. 

She’d picked up the girls from school with the beach bags already in the trunk, and waved at Steve who had to sit through a few hours of parent-teacher conferences before he joined them for dinner. It was nearly four o’clock yet the sun was still blazing and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The girls hadn’t come to ask for a snack yet, but Max knew it was only a matter of time.

She grabbed her Kindle from the bag and turned onto her belly, determined to at least finish the chapter she was on. Mikayla Rand’s The Vanity of Devils had been on her TBR for a while and it was really good, but working from home with a six-year-old and an older brother who kept showing up to ask for advice on his love life did not leave a lot of time for reading.

“...then Prince William arrives on his black horse…”

The girls’ chatter made Max pause her reading to listen. She glanced at her daughter and her daughter’s best friend who had made a sand castle and decorated it with shells and ribbons of seaweed. They were each holding a stick they had wrapped with seaweed and tiny shells.

“Yes, and Princess Rosalinda is so happy to see him.”

“And he gives her a letter from his favorite niece, saying she will be there for the royal wedding. She’s coming soon with Queen Maxine and King Lucas, and they’re bringing presents.”

“Yay, I love presents!”

“Then Prince William gives her a great big hug then lets her ride on his horse with his helper person so he can go find the king.”

“Oh, the king missed him a lot while he was gone. And Princess Rosalinda is glad she’s not in the room when they start kissing because, ew, kissing is gross.”

“So gross. You know, I saw my mom and dad kissing the other morning when Dad was leaving for his work. Yuk.”

Max bit her lip to stop herself from snickering and checked the time on her phone. “Girls, would you like a snack?”

Roscoe and Rosie dropped their embellished sticks and ran to Max, happily drinking the water she offered them before digging into the food she’d packed for them.

A hand landed on Max’s shoulder, causing her to choke on her sip of iced tea.

“Uncle Billy!!!” Roscoe shrieked, jumping into his arms like she hadn’t seen him a few days ago.

“How are my favorite girls?” Billy asked, putting Roscoe down after a twirling hug and sitting next to Max. He pushed his sunglasses off his nose and listened to the two little girls giving him a run down of their day. 

Max noticed they didn’t mention the castle they’d built or the story they’d made up.

“Uncle Billy, can we go for a swim?” Roscoe asked, trying her luck with him since Max had told her she wasn’t getting in the water.

“Yeah, just give me a minute to catch up with your mom, okay? You girls go back to your sandcastle, I’ll be right there.”

The girls happily went back to their game, and Max turned to her brother, waiting for him to take a sip of his water to ask, “So, you and Steve are getting married, I hear?”

[stervrucht]

Steve’s all by himself.

It seems to be that way ever since he broke up with that chick. He walks the halls alone, class to class, and Billy never sees him at lunch. Always leaves right after class too, if they don’t have training.

King Steve.  

The name doesn’t sound all that powerful anymore and there was little Billy had to do for it. Sure, he beat Steve at some of his games, replaced him in the team, but Steve did most of the work himself. 

Billy aches for some fire — the kind that Tommy talked about. 

This Steve is little more than a smolder.

Occasionally he can see it, just behind his eyes. When Tommy pushes too far, or when Billy shoves him just right. It’s that fire, and it shines more beautifully—far brighter—than Tommy’s words do justice.

Billy thinks he can pull it from him. Open him up and lay him bare. 

He wants to see Steve break and unleash an all-consuming inferno. 

Read on AO3

[robthegoodfellow]

Fingers-in-my-word-doc Friday:

In honor of Friday, gimme a line several paragraphs from your latest WIP or project that involves hands. (Search-find hand, hands, fingers, fingerpad, nails, wrist, palm, thumb, heel, lifelines etc)

Tagged by @ihni, who has excellent timing. Using this as excuse to post preview of long delayed next chapter of Only One Bed:

The Catholic church on the edge of town rang its bells thrice a day—six in the AM, noon, six in the PM—and that first round of distant, steady clanging roused Billy from fitful sleep, however briefly, every morning without fail. He was used to it, even before moving to Hawkins; the Lutherans liked to do the same at his childhood church in San Diego.

That morning, he would’ve drifted off again—closing shift later—if not for a couple distracting factors. Number one, he had to piss, and usually he’d just roll out and stumble back without a thought because Ed slept like the dead once he was down, except that, number two, cuddled along Eddie’s side, his arm looped limp around her back, was… Chrissy. Who’d shifted, eyes fluttering, the moment Billy sat up. 

Her enquiring hum was more a soft grunt.

“Sorry,” he whispered, barely audible over the hiss of the sheets as he slid free. “Gotta pee.”

Another hum, faintly acceding, like I’ll allow it, and Billy bit down on a bubble of mirth, spent his time before the porcelain throne and his foggy wander back to the bed a bit dumbfounded, awestruck in a way that made his chest tight, this balloon inside expanding past capacity.

It was Sunday. This time last week, he’d been bracing to lose something, not… find something. Gain something. 

He’d assumed pushing Chrissy and Eddie together would necessarily push Billy and Eddie apart. Billy would be the one giving, not… getting. 

Never in his wildest imagining had Billy anticipated last night. That, holding Eddie out to her, poised for release, Chrissy would grab onto them both. Together, but also—separately. 

And Billy never expected he’d so badly want to grab onto her in return.

Quiet as he could, he slipped between the sheets, sat propped against the headboard, and seeing them snuggled in the dark set off that same buoyant burst as before. Not just for Eddie. The pang of possessive fondness… it was for her, too. 

Possessive and protective. Chrissy had fallen apart, let him tend to the pieces, bundle her up safe, and it was almost desperate, irrational, how much he wanted to be there when she needed that, but also…

He swallowed, rubbing his chest like that would calm whatever was wrestling for purchase, and tried to parse the chaos, the known and familiar feelings from the rest.

Because the past week had stomped all over the sandy bottom of his psyche, stirred what he tried so hard to keep submerged until it was nothing but swirling murk. And when it got like that, the best thing to do was keep real still, wait for it to settle.

Slight movement beneath a pillow, and his gaze cut to the slender hand as it emerged to nudge his own, resting on the mattress by his hip. Chrissy gave no other sign of being awake, and maybe she wasn’t, maybe she was just stretching in her sleep… but when he turned his hand, lightly held her fingers, brushing his thumb over soft knuckles, she squeezed, a brief pulse, weak from lying lax so long.

It lanced through him, this urge to scoop her up and really squeeze, so tight and consuming that it smothered everything bad.

Clingy, he diagnosed. He, Billy Hargrove, was feeling fucking clingy.

.

zero pressure tags: @imsodishy @fizzigigsimmer @passivenovember @shieldofiron @spaceofentropy and anyone else who wants to 💛

[imsodishy]

WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

@robthegoodfellow tagged me (sooooo long ago, I'm sorry Rob but I started doing it and instead ended up actually working on the wip and then finished and posted Take a Step That is New, so actually, thank you Rob! and now it's wip wednesday anyway)

My word was SLEEP (I've been switching off between episodes of Four's Company so these are all from those)

S - “Sledgehammer,” Robin says, like it means something. Billy stares gormlessly at her while he tries to parse her point. She looks pointedly down around his knees, then back at his face even more pointedly. Billy’s got nothing. “You’re still holding the sledgehammer,” she says slowly. 

Oh, so he is.

L - Looking around for a street sign, or a sign from on high that she’s crazy and should just give up, she instead spots a neon diner sign and decides maybe the map will be easier to read if she’s not hunched over the steering wheel, and with a hot coffee in her hand. 

E - Eddie returns, triumphant, with the balled up green flyer held aloft at the same moment Billy re-emerges from the laundry room with a full hamper on his hip. Eddie doesn’t bother trying to hide the flyer as they stare each other down. 

E -Evidently, sometime in the night, Heather somehow migrated sort of onto his back. With her face pressed between his shoulder blades she feels like a lizard on a hot stone, which would probably be nicer if it wasn't late August and muggy enough to make their hair frizz.

P - Panic, deep and familiar, thrums in his guts. It’s the Max isn’t doing what she’s supposed to be panic, that for about six years meant nothing but a shitstorm for him.

no pressure tags your word is MEAT @rigginsstreet @izzyspussy @shieldofiron @ghostlynimbus @magniloquent-raven @robthegoodfellow (that's right it's been so long that I'm hitting you back 😛) 💜

[reineyday]

ST fandom wank but i saw that anti post that said billy hargrove lived and died a piece of shit and it's like, did we even watch the same death scene 😭😭

you really sat down, watched el delve into his memories to see that when he was a child, his mother abandoned him and his father abused him, saw him get the tiniest bit of emotional validation ever from el, watched that small exchange fuel him enough to break the mind control of the gigantic alien creature he knew nothing about except that it possessed him to step in front of it and literally protect el, a girl he doesnt even know, with his actual life--like he actually died! taking a hit meant for el!!!--and then as billy, an 18 year old lifeguard who teaches kids how to swim and who's had an abusive father practically his entire life, lay on the floor of a mall dying from the wounds inflicted on him by a creature he knew nothing about to save a pre-teen who is a stranger to him, you saw as he apologized to his (step-)sister with his dying breath, and you're telling me that you sat there and watched that whole entire scene and thought, "well, he's still a piece of shit."

where's your compassion?????

[camaro-and-smokes]

Snow on the Beach

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Additional Tags: Summer, The Quarry, Pining, POV Steve Harrington, First Kiss, Fluff, Feelings Realization, Boys kissing, Billy Hargrove needs a hug, Harringrove, Steve Harrington has a crush on Billy Hargrove Words: 2,074

This is my 2nd entry to both @steveharringtonbingo & @billyhargrovebingo for Card 1, square B2: Free space; First kiss

Also on AO3.

Author's note: *says on one breath* I just wanted to write something summery super soft fluffiest fluff and I had that piece where Steve sees Billy written for months for something else and it didn't fit there and I didn't know where else to put it so I put it here. *breathes* Title is from a Taylor Swift song.

Summary: Steve decides to go to the quarry to cool off because the air conditioning broke at his house. Billy also happens to come there.

::::::::::

Steve's bored. B-O-R-E-D and sweating. The air-conditioning broke the other day and, of course, it's not the only one that has done that in the heatwave Hawkins is currently experiencing. It could take for forever to get it fixed, so he had to make a nest in the living room in front of the TV with all the fans he found in the house. But it's already the third day and watching TV is quickly getting old. Everyone he could hang out with has left town, so he's on his own trying to come up with something new to do.

He decides to go to the quarry. The water there is cool at least, unlike the water in his pool, and maybe there are some girls he could chat with. Who knows what could follow.

When he arrives at the quarry, it's all quiet. The sun has dropped from the sky, but it's still glimmering through the woods and between the cliffs, caressing the surface of the road and the lake. He parks the BMW up on the cliff and walks down by the lake.

He's just walking by the waterline when he hears a car. He glances towards the road, and the car is turned off. Someone gets out of the car and the door whumps closed. They haven't noticed Steve, so he pulls behind the cliff and peeks around it towards the car.

It's Hargrove.

He's leaning on the Camaro, his ankles crossed. He has a smoke between his lips and he flicks the Zippo once, twice, three times before the flame comes alive. He inhales greedily through the cigarette, his cheeks hollowing, and snaps the cover of the lighter closed before dropping it into the back pocket of his jeans. He looks down at the smoke between his fingers. He's probably thinking something really hard because his brows furrow, knitting tightly together. Then he looks in front of him, seemingly not really looking at anything in particular though, takes another drag, and flicks the end of the smoke with his thumb to make the ash fall off. He repeats the routine of inhaling through the smoke and flicking off the ash until the smoke is almost finished.

That's when he lifts his head. Maybe he hears something, because he turns to look slightly to his left—and suddenly Steve's world halts between breaths.

The sun is setting, but the rays of light shine through the trees and one of them hits Billy's face, his silhouette carving a shadow into the light and shattering it into thin beams around him. His curls shine bright in the light around the back of his head like a halo, but the silhouette of his face is perfectly sharp. From the curl on his forehead down to his nose, trailing past plump, slightly open lips and finally curving to his chin and neck. Billy must feel the sun on his face, because he closes his eyes and a rare, genuine smile creeps on his face.

Steve has never seen Billy smile like that. Every smile he's ever seen on his face has always been calculated, mean or cocky, made for one thing only: asserting dominance. But this is something Steve has never seen before. The smile is soft, and it lifts Billy's cheeks up, crinkles the corners of his eyes and smooths the crease that was between his eyes a moment before.

Billy is pretty, Steve already knew that, but now Billy looks simply beautiful, and Steve can't tell for the life of him why he hasn't noticed it before. Maybe he's been too occupied with everything that's been shit in his life, including Billy, who's gotten under his skin in a bad way. But that has just changed, because just like that, Steve Harrington is in love with Billy Hargrove.

But then the breath that halted, continues.

"Enjoying the view, Harrington?" Billy asks. Steve's annoyed for a moment—ashamed that he got caught and realizing that maybe that was why Billy was smiling—the feeling rises fast as if it came from his spine and he almost snarks back at Billy. But he manages to stop himself, and instead he asks, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful, Hargrove?”

And of all things Hargrove could do, bark a laugh or say something snarky or humiliate Steve somehow because he caught him staring, he does the unexpected—blushes. His skin grows pink from his neck up to his cheeks and to his forehead. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he says, but the usual bravado is missing. It’s almost bashful. “The heat must've messed with your head.”

Steve steps out from behind the cliff and looks down, unable to hide his smile. After a while, he looks up at Billy. “I got a few beers. Want one?” “Sure, why not,” Billy says after a while, and stumps his smoke with his boot before walking to Steve.

He sits next to Steve on the gravel near the waterline, leaning his elbows to his knees and accepts the can of beer Steve offers him. Steve looks at him from the corner of his eyes, feeling his own cheeks heating. “Your own pool wasn't enough?” Billy asks. The question isn't sharp like it might've normally been. It's casual, awkward even. “Thought the water might be cooler here. And there might be chicks to chat with.” A smug smile creeps on Billy's face. “Not cooler and no chicks. Tough luck.” Steve purses his lips together to keep his smile from widening. “Well, you're here. That counts.” Billy turns his head slowly to look at Steve, incredulous. He looks as if all the air was punched out of his lungs. Steve lets out a laugh and drinks from his can. Then he glances at Billy. “Wanna take a swim?”

Steve thinks he has the upper hand in this game, but he realizes that he's lost the reins when Billy stands up and starts to pull off his shirt. He does it slowly; the fabric licking his sides and his abs as it slides slowly up, jumping up a little faster as it reveals his pecs and the friction perks up his nipples.

It's deliberate. With all his toying, Steve revealed to Billy that he might actually want him to do exactly this.

And Billy delivers.

The shirt slips over Billy's head, and he turns to look at Steve, his lips slightly parted, his other eyebrow raised as he tosses the shirt onto the gravel. Steve looks away and clears his throat. Billy tsks and asks, teasing, “Isn't this what you wanted to see, pretty boy?” Steve feels his cheeks burning. He can't form a word, he just stares in front of him. From the peripheral vision, he sees Billy smiling. He hears Billy opening the zipper of his jeans. Steve swallows and carefully glances up. The jeans come off as slowly and deliberately as the shirt. The waistband hugs the curve of Billy's asscheeks, making them jiggle a little as they're released from the tight hug of the likely tailored fabric. Billy steps out from the jeans one foot at a time and tosses the jeans on the ground next to his shirt.

That's when Steve realizes Billy is not wearing any underwear.

Billy glances at Steve, and as he walks towards the water, he asks, “Are you coming, Harrington?” “Mm-hmm,” Steve squeaks to his own embarrassment. He gets up and pulls off his shirt.

Steve's undressing slows down when he looks at Billy walking into the water. The confident strides are slowed down by the water that resists his movement and his glutes are working harder the deeper he gets. He's thigh-deep in the water when he finally dives in head first, vanishing under the still glimmering surface.

Steve feels his heart drumming hard against his sternum as if it was whacking its way out from its place with a sledgehammer. He takes off his jeans and briefs as quickly as he can and runs after Billy.

Billy is already halfway towards the buoy that's anchored to mark the opening of the actual quarry, the deepest spot in the lake. Steve catches him easily. Billy has to be an excellent swimmer because he's a lifeguard and likely a surfer too, so he's definitely not swimming as fast as he could. He's letting Steve to catch him.

The game is on, Steve decides.

When Steve catches up with Billy, he picks up the pace, knowing Billy will follow suit. They race to the buoy, Billy eventually winning just by an arm's length. BIlly raises his arms up in the air, laughing. “Winner!” Steve pulls himself against the buoy and looks at Billy with a smile. “That's because I let you.”

Billy's face is lit by sunlight as he quickly looks away from Steve, smiling shyly.

Steve pulls himself closer to Billy and stops right next to him. He can see Billy's chest raising and lowering fast, seeing his raging heartbeat from the bulging vein right beneath the curve of his jaw.

And he knows it isn't because of their short race.

Steve leans into Billy's space, just an inch away, memorizing the position of each tiny freckle on his nose, every crinkle in the corner of his eyes, how impossibly long each one of his eyelashes is, how deep the cupid's bow on his upper lip is.

Billy looks back at Steve and closes the distance between them, connecting their lips together.

Billy's lips are soft, opposite to what Steve thought. The kiss tastes like beer and smoke, but to Steve's surprise hint of strawberry lures in from somewhere. He knows it's not him, so it has to be Billy.

They pull apart, and look at each other, equally confused and surprised. Steve feels like laughing with joy, but Billy's gaze is so soft and his smile so small and fragile that Steve reels the laughter in and settles for a gentle smile.

The last rays of the sun dance on Billy's flushed cheeks, and the light reflects from the water to his eyes, making them sparkle, and suddenly Steve feels so full of everything. He's full of joy and longing and all the fuzzy feelings and passion and he just knows. This is it. It's stupid, it's just their first kiss and there's no guarantee that he'll even get another one—and yet...

He leans in again and Billy meets him halfway.

The kiss is more daring now, and Steve wraps his arm around Billy's waist, pulling them tightly against each other. Billy brushes Steve's lips tentatively with his tongue, and Steve parts them, inviting Billy in. They taste each other in tiny bits, slow careful touches of the tips of their tongues, then growing braver and ending up lapping against each other as far as they can reach.

Steve has kissed his share of lips. Thin and thick ones, chapped and soft ones, cold ones outside in a snowfall, warm ones in the heat of the night.

But never ones like Billy's. It feels new, like it was his first kiss. He vaguely remembers his first kiss, but he knows it never felt like this. Billy is a good kisser. He knows exactly when to push in and pull back, when to nip Steve's lip and when to allow Steve's tongue in his mouth to savour it.

Steve lets go of the buoy he's been holding onto until now and wraps his both arms around Billy, and Billy wraps his legs around Steve's waist, neither ever breaking the kiss.

When they finally run out of air, the break is just for a second and then they're glued back together from their mouths.

They don't notice when the sun vanishes behind the horizon. The dusk settles in, even though the sun still lights the tops of the trees high on the cliff.

“Should we go?” Steve finally asks, whispering, when he sees Billy's skin rippling with goosebumps. “I guess,” Billy breathes reluctantly. “It's cooler now, though.” Billy smirks. “What about the chicks? Worth chatting with?” “I wouldn't mind chatting a bit more.” Billy smiles a wide smile, one that traps his tongue between his teeth and lets go of Steve. Steve's so enamoured that he doesn't realize that Billy is already swimming towards the shore, full speed. “Asshole,” Steve mutters under his breath, and starts chasing Billy as fast as he can.

[asirensrage]

Title: Making Amends Rating: T POV: Billy Hargrove Warnings: Swearing. Smoking. Mention of threats. Summary: Takes place in Chapter 45 of Tammy Thompson Takes on the Upside Down. On Kate's advice, Billy goes to the Sinclair's to apologize.

He’s smoked like three cigarettes and he still hasn’t gone up to the house. Fuck. This shouldn’t be that hard. There’s a huge part of him that wasn’t to say fuck this and leave. He doesn’t apologize to anyone. But he can practically hear Kate’s voice and he wants to be better. He doesn’t want to end up being his father.

“Hey, weirdo!” He turns when he realizes the voice is calling him. “Yeah, you!” He finds the source. There’s a girl hanging out of one of the top windows. “Quit staring at my house! You curly-haired freak. Don’t you have a home you can go to?”

Jesus Christ. What was with this town? 

“You always yell at strangers?”

“I do when they’ve been standing outside my home. Go get a job!” 

He snorts and drops the cigarette. Figures. Couldn’t be hard enough that he has to admit he’s fucked up, but now he has a kid with a mouth on her yelling at him like she’s his mother. He steps on it, twisting his foot just enough to grind it down before he heads towards the house. It feels like he’s had a sign from Kate like she’s watching him despite the fact that he knows she’s at work and doesn’t know he’s here. 

He knocks. He thinks he hears the girl yelling not to let the homeless in. He waits and it feels like forever, like he’s in a state of limbo before the door finally opens and a tall Black man is standing there, looking at him unimpressed. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Yes sir,” he nods. He takes a deep breath, shoving down the vicious part of him that tells him he doesn’t have to take this, doesn’t have to be here. “I came to apologize to your son. I…threatened him, was going to hurt him before I was stopped. I’d appreciate it if you and your wife were there while I said sorry.”

The man seems to stand taller and Billy feels like flinching, shrinking himself to make a smaller target, despite how much he’s tried hard not to. 

“You threatened my son?”

Billy swallows. “Yeah.” 

He stares at him for a long while before he nods. “Come in.” He moves back, letting Billy enter. He feels like he just walked into the lion’s den but he doesn’t retreat. “Darling!” he calls out before directing Billy to the living room. Billy wipes his hands on his jeans. He’s sweating more than he ever thought possible, but then again, he never would have imagined he’d be here in the first place, doing this. 

“It will be up to Lucas,” the man says, “if he wants to accept your apology.”

Billy just nods.

He hears the footsteps before the feminine voice. “Yes, dear?”

“We have a visitor,” the man says. “He came to apologize to Lucas. He threatened him and admitted he was going to hurt him. He wants us to stay while he apologizes.”

Billy glances at the woman whose presence changes as she assesses him. “You threatened my son?” 

He nods, throat tight with fear. He tries not to shift, to temper the desire to storm out. He’s never dealt well with fear. 

They whisper something to each other before the man calls out, “Lucas!”

“What?” a voice calls back from upstairs.

“Come here please!” 

There are thundering steps as the kid runs down the stairs and he stops as soon as he sees Billy. “What the hell is he doing here?” the kid’s voice is laced with venom. He can’t blame him. The mother shoots the kid a pointed look but doesn’t say anything. 

“This young man,” the father says, “came to apologize.” 

“Apologize?” the kid, Lucas, he mentally corrects himself, asks incredulously. “That’s bullshit.”

“Lucas!” his mother sounds scandalized. 

“It’s true! He’s not here to apologize! It’s some mind game. He’s going to wait til we’re alone and tell me Max can’t be friends with us. He’s going to hurt me again!” 

“I’m not,” Billy cuts in. “I asked them to stay because you’re right. I was an asshole. I was trying to control things like Max because I couldn’t…I’m not asking you to accept. I just wanted to say I’m,” he swallows. “I’m sorry for the shit I did, okay? I’m sorry I hurt you. You were an easy target.” 

“I don’t forgive you.” 

“I know,” Billy nods. “I just came to say my shit. That’s all.” Billy moves toward them, trying to head to the door. 

“Hold on, son.” Lucas’s father holds up a hand and Billy tries not to flinch. He needs a cigarette. Maybe ten. He feels like he’s crawling out of his skin already. “Lucas, go upstairs.”

“But dad–”

“Now, Lucas.” 

The kid glares at him one last time before running upstairs. The parents both look at each other before the mother smiles at him. 

“I appreciate the fact that you came to apologize. That must not have been easy but I’m proud of you for facing up to things. I have a few more questions. Why don’t you sit down?”

He definitely needs a cigarette.

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @nejires-hado @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

st tag: @happinessinthedarkesttimes

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Disabled Billy and Steve Week - Family

It isn't until Max switches off her stereo that she's able to pinpoint what the noise is. At first she thinks it's probably nothing. Why should she pay attention to some bumps and grumbling? Her and Billy are two growing kids in a shitty little house; it wouldn't surprise her if the whole thing had just been banging on their shared wall for her to turn her music down.

It's not though, at least not this time.It isn't Billy taking advantage of the mostly empty house to get himself in shape to either intimidate or impress Steve (she honestly can't be sure which it is anymore), and he's not even pounding on the other side of the wall for Max to be quiet. It sounds like he's redecorating his room... violently.

Another thump and--despite a small, petty part of herself saying 'just leave him to it, he's been more of an asshole than usual lately'--Max gets up and pushes her bedroom door open. It's barely two steps to Billy's door (again, tiny house, rooms right net to each other's... it doesn't leave much room for privacy or personal space) and then Max is raising her hand to knock; the sound of it is mostly lost beneath a final, louder crash and then a muffled thud.

For a second she hesitates, and then she opens the door. The final crash, apparently, seems to have been caused by Billy's desk chair being kicked across the room in a fit of rage. Or at least that's what Max is assuming from the fact it's on it's side across the space from where it belongs. It's not like Billy's room's huge, but that's probably still not good for the chair.

Then, finally, she registers Billy. He's sat on the floor, back to the wall and hands over his ears. The guy's looking up at her from beneath brows set into a furious scowl, but the effect of that is lessoned by his posture and the shining potential for tears in his eyes.

"Um," she says, rather eloquently.

Billy is still glaring.

"What's up?" she finishes, feeling lame.

For a long minute she just remains subject to Billy's glare. And then he looks away from her, staring at the floor like he wants it to burst into flames.

'Fine,' she thinks, 'be that way. See if I care.'

She's almost about to leave and go back to enjoying herself in her own room, listening to decent music and not the crappy metal Billy blasts all the time and--

"I can hear the fucking bubbles," Billy grumbles, and Max thinks for a second that she misheard him but, no, he's now subjecting the can of coke on his bedside table to his Death Stare.

Ah.

She gets it now. Billy's back may be facing the wall but it's not actually touching it, and he's wearing that faded band tshirt he always does when he's uncomfortable, and he's got his hands over his ears. So, it's one of those days.

Without saying another word, because doing anything will annoy Billy when he's like this and an annoyed Billy is an insufferable Billy, Max walks into his room, grabs the can, and walk straight back out.

Pouring the drink down the kitchen sink feels like a waste, but it's definitely not going in Billy's room, and Max certainly isn't drinking it because who knows what germs her brother has. The guy's pretty gross sometimes.

Rather than head straight back to her room, she swings through the living room and-- yep! There they are. Bright red ear defenders.

Billy doesn't snatch them from her hands when she offers them out, but it's a near thing. She counts that as the thanks it is and considers leaving but... She's seen the way he can't leave his hair alone on some days. She doesn't pretend to know if it's a restless movement thing, a preening thing, or a 'my hair is touching my neck and I hate it' thing, but she's definitely noticed him moving it around a lot on some days. Not because she cares or anything. Because she doesn't. They just live together and, y'know, small house...

With a huff of a sigh, she takes the hair tie from her wrist and holds it out to him. There's a pause where the both of them are just staring at the thing, and then Billy takes it, slow and careful. When he ties his hair up with it Max feels good for being useful... and, okay, maybe she cares about him a little. They're not, like, actually siblings or anything but she lives with him so she has to care. At least, that's how she justifies sitting across from Billy.

The silence is so loud. She hopes the ear defenders are helpful, because she'd love to block out whatever this pause right now is.

"Fucking autism," Billy murmurs. Finally. It feels like a truce. Some sort of olive branch.

Max nods. "Do you want some space?"

Billy just frowns at the floor again. Max shakes her head to herself and stares at the floor as well. The silence is a little less stifling now, suddenly. And maybe Max doesn't get all this perfectly, and Billy is still a pain in the ass... but she thinks that maybe they're okay. Maybe, weirdly, they are family, even on messy bad days.

[prettyboy-like-you]

There weren't moments. It wasn't like that. There was no shifting of grey clouds. No first blush. Nothing like waiting for the sun to come up in the sky as it does the morning after the night before. None of that creeping, hazy first light growing steadily brighter, bit by infinitesimal bit. No slow breach of my dark horizon. No sneaking up on me in my dimmed down little world.

There was no dawn. 

Because it wasn't a thing that grew, it was a Quickening.

It was daytime unleashed, the flicking on of a switch I couldn't turn off again because the stupid mechanism broke off in my stupid hand. I was bleached. Aglow. All ablaze, all at once, drenched in the brightest of lights and soaked in a fluorescence there was no escaping from. No shade. No shadow. Only forever burning, now, beneath your God-like rays, alight with all of you.

Luminous, radiant fucking you.

.

[makeadealwithdean]

endless billy 2/? - Stranger Things 2x02 "Trick or Treat, Freak"

[devondespresso]

OK I NEED TO SHARE THIS FIC RIGHT NOW OR I WILL DIE

THIS. FIC. IS. FUCKING. EXCEPTIONAL.

it was a one-chapter idea that had so much good going for it that the author is expanding it into a full fic and series. it has 12 chapters out right now (total undetermined but they seem to have a lot planned) and every single one is absolute art. its also at a pretty good place right now so stopping at chapter 12 isn't cliffhanger torture or anything, it has questions unresolved and whatnot but im not falling apart at the seams from not knowing what happens next.

no im falling apart at the seams from everything thats already happened.

(this is your vague spoiler warning. im mostly warning/disclaiming shit and roleplaying a car salesman as i try to get you to give this fic a shot)

fair warning this fic is heavy. it deals with the upside down trauma and the canon-divergent trauma the author introduced so incredibly realistically that it kinda makes you realize how desensitized we are to steve getting hurt. its amazing.

also feel the need to tell you its not the type of realistic that leaves you depressed after reading thank god. its real and heavy but not demoralizing. characters cry and grieve and scream but characters also hug and comfort each other and make little jokes to lighten the mood. there are worst case scenarios and best case scenarios and you get to be with the characters in the aftermath and their healing.

the structure and pacing is really good. it centers around steve but it alternates povs to most of the other characters and gets their perspective and struggles (has switched between steve, eddie, hopper, max, lucas, dustin, nancy, wayne, b*lly, and steves mom) and that makes almost every character feel like they're a main character or at the very least really well developed.

also this is your anti-b*lly h*rgrove warning. hes 100% an irredeemable monster here so if that bothers you definitely skip this because his impact is felt every chapter. all the other characters are flawed but understandable and definitely not malicious.

and ofc read the tags and chapter notes for content warnings and such. the author tells you what areas to skip over if certain subjects bother you but some aspects (like what happened to steve and max and eddie's childhood traumas) are too integral to the story and can't be glossed over without missing plot details.

if its at all interesting to you (and its safe for you to read) please just go check out the first chapter and you'll get it. its really good.