#Billy Hargrove x teacher!reader
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Dear Santa
Closer to my Heart Roll with the Changes
Billy Hargrove x Teacher!Reader
You and Billy take your kids to meet Santa. Theo surprises you after.
“Daddy, come on,” Theo whined as he aggressively tugged on Billy’s hand again, doing everything in his power to tug him forward, “He’s right there!” He jerked his head roughly in the other direction, so hard that you were afraid he’d throw his little body out.
The mall was busy, packed elbow to elbow as the four of you waited in line to meet Santa Claus. You felt as if you’d been waiting hours, years nearly. Theo was excited, bouncing and keeping you and Billy on your toes the whole time. You weren’t sure why he was so eager to move forward when there was still at least twenty people in front of you.
“I know, I know,” Billy replied urgently, sighing deeply as he continued to move his legs slower, “But I’m just so tired.” He teased, dragging his feet worse than before. Theo furrowed his eyebrows together, a look of distress on his features.
“Please,” He begged furiously this time, blue eyes flashing with urgency, “Help!” He looked at you this time, his energy nearly bursting free as you gave him a little laugh. He still reminded you a lot of Billy, eager to get something over with right away.
“I guess daddy will get left behind,” You smiled as you hand a hand out, surprised at the quick way Theo gripped a hold of you and tugged you forward, “Oh! Trust me, he won’t leave any time soon.” You reassured him, forcing your feet onto the ground so you didn’t bump into the family in front of you. Theo grinned up at you, swaying your hands back and forth as he waited again.
“Yeah, he’s here until five.” Billy grumbled as he swapped you, taking Minnie out of your hands. She giggled in response, always eager to get away from you it seemed like. You thought that she looked more and more like Billy every day.
“What time is it now?” He asked as he hopped in front of you, still holding onto your hands. You gave him a little lift, making him squeal, before you settled him back onto the ground.
“Half past twelve.” Billy answered after a quick glance to his watch. He had his hair pulled back today, out of his face so that Minnie wouldn’t grab a hold of it. But now she kept reaching for his earrings, looking too fascinated with them.
“I-,” Theo stalled, whatever he was thinking slowly slipping away as he turned towards Billy again. He crinkled his eyebrows together, mouth parting in confusion, “Huh?” He tilted his head, his eyes moving as he tried to make sense of what Billy had just said.
“Look,” You smiled as you turned him around, earning a little gasp from him, “You and Minnie are up next.” You knelt near him, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep him from running forward. He gave his hands a clap, turning towards you briefly to show off the excitement on his features.
“Alright, you can go now.” One of the workers nodded, smiling as the bell on her hat rang aggressively. You had once worked as one of Santa’s helpers too; it had been awful. You reached out, holding onto Theo so he didn’t end up tackling Santa.
But the closer you got, the slower his footsteps became. He was suddenly to your side, his hands gripping your leg tightly as you walked him up towards Santa. He was shy again, eyes wide as he looked at you.
“It’s Santa Claus!” You proclaimed, giving him a little reminder, “You better tell him what you want, we’ve waited all this time.” You gave him a gentle smile, holding your hand out for him to take once again.
He moved easier this time, clutching your hand as you assisted him up onto Santa’s lap. He quickly relaxed once he was up there, beginning to ramble about the many things that you wanted. You and Billy listened closely, but you felt your eyes widen once Theo pulled a list out of his pocket.
“When did he make that?” Billy leaned forward to ask you, blue eyes twinkling as he watched you. You gave your head a little shake, pressing your lips together.
“No idea,” You admitted, earning a little chuckle from him, “C’mere Minnie.” You smiled as you took her, gently carrying her over to Santa’s other side. You pressed her down gently, glad that her attention was still on you.
“Minnie wants a little mouse,” Theo nodded his head as he looked at Santa, “Oh, and a pony.” He stated before he continued to read off of his list. You blinked, certain that he had ordered it in alphabetical order.
“Minnie told you this?” Billy asked dryly as he cocked his dark eyebrows, not looking impressed at all. Theo briefly glanced at him, puckering his lips together so he wouldn’t smile.
“Yes.”
“You want a pony?” Santa questioned her, making her head snap in that direction. Her eyes widened several sizes, her lips parting so much that her pacifier dropped from her mouth. Theo reached forward, grabbing it before it hit the ground.
“Alright,” Billy huffed underneath his breath, “They better take it before the waterworks start.��� He pressed his hands nervously on his hips, waiting as the workers tried to gain her attention. But it didn’t work. She was still sizing Santa up, like she knew she had been tricked.
By the time they took the photo; Theo had a bright smile on his lips, eyes twinkling as he held onto Santa tightly. But Minnie had turned towards them distraught, tears in her eyes and her lips pulled down into a frown. As soon as the flash went off she began to howl, sobbing harshly as Billy quickly picked her up.
“Keep up the good work,” Theo nodded as he slid out of Santa’s lap, his feet suddenly as heavy as cement bricks as you tried to get him out of the way, “You always do a fantastic job.” He praised, giving Santa a little salute before he turned away.
“That was very kind of you to tell him that.” You told him seriously as Theo linked his fingers with yours again. Billy was already off to the side, cooing and rocking Minnie back and forth as she sniffled and huffed.
“I’m just telling him the truth,” He giggled as he leaned closer to you, “I’m hungry.” He said a second later, looking towards Billy hopefully.
“Kids under five eat for free at the restaurant at the front.” He suggested with a shrug of his shoulders, making you budge a little bit. Your budget was tight, but the kids had been good today. You nodded in agreement, deciding they deserved to eat something fun.
Theo took his role of being a big brother very, very seriously. And that included making Minnie laugh when she didn’t feel good. The whole way to the restaurant, you two walked behind them, Theo determined to make her laugh. He played peek-a-boo back and forth, would occasionally jump out at her or pretend to grab her feet.
She had ended up giggling so hard that she got the hiccups once you had gotten situated at a table. You wiggled her into the high chair, trying to keep her from squirming as you latched her inside. You were certain that she would be a runner when she was older.
“Daddy,” Theo paused as he looked up at him, “Why do you and Minnie have big ears?” He questioned as he continued to color in the picture in front of him. You bit your bottom lip, deciding that you would let Billy handle the question this time. You had lectured him enough about it.
“We don’t have big ears,” He grumbled as he pressed Minnie back into his spot, “They just stick out.” He shrugged his shoulders, looking like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t. Their ears weren’t big at all, they just stuck out a little bit. You thought it was very cute.
“Me and mama have small ears,” He grinned as he pressed his fingers against his earlobes, giggling as he tilted his head back and forth, “Don’t we, mama?” He questioned as he turned towards you, eyes still twinkling.
You froze for a moment, grin still plastered on your face as you connected what he meant. You had thought he was talking about the picture of his mother, but it was clear now he had been talking to you. You blinked slowly, heart racing as you tried to think about how to handle the situation.
You were cautious, unsure of how Billy would react if you accepted what he called you. He had always been clear that he didn’t want Theo’s mother to be erased, but you were sure you couldn’t handle Theo’s little heartbreak if you told him that you weren’t his mother. You were stuck.
You jumped at the feeling of Billy’s arm around your shoulder, him feigning a dramatic yawn as he rubbed his fingertips gently against your skin. You met his eyes for a moment, finding only reassurance. Okay. You were fine, just stuck in your own mind.
“Oh yeah,” You smiled as you turned back towards Theo, trying to keep your tone calm and in control. You blinked roughly, feeling a strong ache on your chest as you realized how much Theo cared for you two, “Our ears are small and cute.” You smiled as you copied his movements, moving your fingers to your ears.
Theo giggled loudly, covering his little hands over his mouth like you had just said something hilarious. You smiled as you leaned in closer towards Billy, accepting the little hug that he gave you. You held onto him just as tightly, feeling like you needed it right now.
“Yeah, but we can hear better,” Billy grinned, looking at the way Minnie was continuing to try and force her way out of the high chair, “So I know all of your secrets.” He whispered lowly, earning a little squeal from Theo again.
“Hey,” He grinned as he looked at you, “I have a daddy, a mama and a mommy.” He added happily, holding up three fingers as he stated his facts. Billy nodded along, looking content with his answer. But it made your heart soar. You’d always felt included, but something about his words made you realize that you were really apart of their little family now. Like you belonged.
You didn’t need any other gifts.
Tags: @cassandracorvo @shes-an-odd-bird @kiauh @that-one-lightskin @galacticglitterglue @thejadevvitch @missingbillyhargrove
#Billy Hargrove#Theo Hargrove#Billy Hargrove x reader#Billy hargrove x fem!reader#Billy Hargrove x female!reader#Billy Hargrove x teacher!reader#Billy Hargrove fluff#Billy Hargrove is a good dad#Billy Hargrove x you#Billy Hargrove x Y/N#Billy Hargrove fanfic#Billy Hargrove fic#Billy Hagrove imagine#Billy Hargrove fanfiction#billy stranger things#Stranger Things#Au
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Graduation
Part 4
Series MasterList
Music teacher Eddie Munson, Sport teacher Steve Harrington x student reader x Art teacher Billy Hargrove
Summary: a reward is in order for graduating with flying colours
Read at own risk
Warning: teacher x student
S/n school name
Laying on eddie's desk sipping a cheap beer "my parents are the worst they didn't even pitch to my graduation" I muttered as I turned my head to the side to see steve and billy sitting by the board as eddie was coming in from the hall "come on yn, we supposed to be celebrating" eddie laughed loudly as he sat next to me "plus that means you get to hang out with the big boys" he winked "hang out and do what tho" I murmured as i moved up so i was leaning on my elbows so i could watch all of them “well we could always reward you for being our favorite student” billy said as he got up and moved to me but stood closer to my leg so he could run his hand up and down from my leg all the way to the end of my exposed thigh, i shyly widened my legs for him “there you go” he smirked before pulling my skirt and undies off as eddie and steve silently watched “take your shirt and bra off” i only nodded in response and did as i was told discarding them on the floor i blushed as he moved around so he was standing infront of me and pulled me to him as if i weighed nothing, his hands slowly found their way to my pussy slightly teasing the lips before plunging in “fuck” i moaned out he was going gently he was going fast and hard i cried out throwing my head back “thats it” he growled as i started getting wet my moans and whines only making him go faster “oh fuck billy” i whined s my legs started shaking i looked at eddie then steve they both were looking at me with lust as they pumped their cocks “keep going billy, fuck she looks hot” steve laughed out as he cheered billy on “fuck fuck fuck” i moaned out as i cam i was to distracted to realize how close i was “that was fucking hot baby” eddie muttered stand up as they all came to me eddie and steve at my side with billy still infront they all took off their clothes “give us a hand job as he fucks you” steve said as he grabbed one of my hands and wrapped it around his cock i moved my other one to eddies before looking down to billy “ready” he asked and i mumbled a yes and watched with lust as he entered me and as he started to thrust i used his rhythm to jerk off the two cocks in my hand “thats it baby” eddie chuckled i stared up at them as they stared down at me with lust and hunger, billy started speeding up and so did i the room was starting to be filled with all our moans “fuck baby” eddie muttered thrusting into my hand “gonna cum” billy grunted before pulling out and cumming on my stomach he panted and leaned down kissing me before moving to set in the corner so he could have a show while resting eddie and steve looked at each other before nodding, i gasped as steve picked me up and layed me on one of the students table and positioned himself at my face and eddie by my thighs “baby your gonna suck him off while i fuck you ok” i eagerly nodded and opened my mouth and legs for them and arched my back as both of them thrusted in at the same time they both started moving and steve grabbed my tits groping and squeezing them “you feel like fucking heaven baby” eddie groaned as their pace started to quicken, my eyes drifted over to billy and shivered as he was staring at me intently not doing anything else but staring “of fuck she clenched” eddie yelled as he cam inside me filling me up i closed eyes and spasmed as i cam again causing steve to shoot his load down my throat “fucking hell” he growled and waited a few moments before pulling out i panted heavily and rested my head against the desk “come on yn” i quickly turned to billy “dont think we’re down yet” i gulped as their cocks got hard again ‘im not gonna walk tomorrow’.
Thee End
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#h rambles#my first poll#which fics#joe keery smut#joe keery x reader#joe quinn x fem!reader#joe keery fem!reader#joseph quinn x f!reader#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn#billy hargrove x plus size reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove angst#joe keery teacher#teacher x reader
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I Know Better
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.
Warnings: Language, slut-shaming
Word Count: 1396
A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.
I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.
This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.
And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.
I hope you enjoy!
Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me
"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush”
Moodboard by @saradika
Billy Hargrove never scared you.
Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude.
You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car.
You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door.
Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you.
He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away.
You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day.
It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst.
You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight.
You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you.
Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag.
In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out.
You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing.
“Wanna say that again?”
Your brows pulled in confusion.
What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious?
It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence.
Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth.
He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building.
Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office.
Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes.
I heard he keyed Billy’s car.
No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up.
Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making.
The day couldn’t have been over soon enough.
At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating.
You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside.
“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette.
“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap.
“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets.
Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you.
It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood.
He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile.
“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked.
You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out.
This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.”
But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal.
“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.”
There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.”
“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile.
“You’ll have mine.”
The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing.
You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door.
—
That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name.
He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself.
“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness.
“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers.
He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food.
“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.”
You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone.
You took a shot in the dark.
“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?”
His jaw clenched and hands stopped.
So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor?
But why?
And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other.
You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.”
“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping.
“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.”
At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation.
“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen.
You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.”
“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed.
Of course, that was what he took away.
“Billy,” you warned playfully.
“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.”
You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content.
“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over.
“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.”
Names.
You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you.
You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.
“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.”
He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours.
“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked.
“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were.
He leaned his elbows on the table.
“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.”
Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove x reader#Billy Hargrove x female reader#Billy Hargrove x fem!reader#Billy Hargrove x you#Billy Hargrove one shot#Billy Hargrove oneshot#Billy Hargrove fanfic#Billy Hargrove fanfiction#Billy Hargrove imagine#Billy Hargrove imagines
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soul made of honeybees
billy hargrove x fem!reader
gif by @biillys
word count: 6,418
warnings: brief swearing, mentions of smoking, reader deals with body insecurities/dysmorphia, uses exercise as a punishment, all of the struggles that come with trying to accept oneself
synopsis: on a journey of becoming more active and trying to be happier in yourself, you find billy, who helps you develop a healthier relationship with exercising and shows you that your body should be celebrated for all it does for you.
a/n: well, what do we have here? my creative juices have begun to flow again, and this is the first fic to be born of that particular affair. in my head i’ve set this in the late 80s, maybe early 90s, where i imagine billy still works at the pool during the summers when he’s home from college. this is a situation i’ve found myself in over the past year, and i wanted a chance to explore it in this way and sort through some of my own experiences. i hope you will enjoy it. as always, happy reading! <3
————
Jane Fonda is a fucking fantastic woman. But right now, you hate her.
She manages to look stunning and effortless with each kick of her legs; while you are sweating profusely, your shorts are up your ass, and your fingers are swollen from overheating.
You hate exercising in the moment, but once her thirty minute video is over and her group of people in tights and tiny shorts are gone, admittedly you do feel better. Rinsing the sweat from your face, feeling your muscles ache the next day—it brings you some sort of satisfaction.
Your body likes that you’ve gotten more active.
But your own hatred for your body was the reason you allowed Jane Fonda into your home to begin with. Sick, right? You know it’s bad, and yet each time you squat, crunch, and press, you can’t stop yourself from wishing you were shaped differently. From looking at the toned and athletic bodies in Miss Fonda’s videos and imagining what it would be like to feel that comfortable in your own skin, to be so graceful and…perfect.
So, you continue to push yourself, in hopes that you’ll become more appealing, that if you keep doing this, there will come a point where you aren’t totally and completely disgusted with the body you’ve been given.
Because at this point, you’ve truly convinced yourself that you cannot be happy in your body. Even if you have noticed your strength levels increasing and really want to push yourself more. But you won’t let that positivity ring free like the woman on your television always wishes you would.
“You did a great job!” Jane’s voice rings throughout your living room as the workout video ends, and you scramble for the remote, having had enough of these cheery attitudes for one morning.
You sit back on your hands, stretch out your legs, and try to steady your breath. Your knees have carpet burn, and you can feel sweat dripping down your temples.
You may be a heaving mess, but you need more. The workouts have gotten easy, and you need something new.
A woman runs by outside your window in a bright pink leotard and blue jogging shorts, matching pink leg warmers meeting her tennis shoes.
I could try that, you think. Maybe I’d like running.
You certainly didn’t like it in school, but most of that was the result of shitty phys-ed teachers and the fact that you were never the athlete those instructors wanted you to be.
You push off the floor and stalk to your room, digging for the sneakers you know are buried in the back of your closet. You have to try this. You need to keep pushing yourself. And if you don’t do it now, with this sudden spark of energy, you probably never will.
Five minutes. You can run for five minutes. And if you feel like you can after that time is up, you’ll do ten.
You squeeze your eyes shut as you’re tying your shoes, shoving away the thoughts telling you that you’ll definitely not look as cute as that woman on the street or any other woman that goes for a run, their ponytail swaying and their cheeks perfectly pinked.
But what does it matter? You have to try. You have to be productive and make something out of yourself. You can’t deal with the pulsing, clawing thoughts of self-hatred anymore. Your body has to change.
The only problem is that you haven’t yet realized your mindset must too.
The heat that swallows you up when you step out of your front door is almost enough to send you right back inside. But how disappointed will you be in yourself if you retreat that quickly?
You let your body begin to walk before your brain can start to argue. Your street doesn’t really have a sidewalk, so you keep to one side as the cyclists and other joggers do, ensuring you won’t be in anyone’s way. Subconsciously, you’re already making yourself smaller even though there’s no one outside to judge you.
You look down at your watch, noting the time, and start to run. Not as though you’re being chased by a serial killer—or a man—but enough that it counts as a run. Those first few seconds are blissful. You feel like a little kid as the adrenaline spreads through your veins. Like your mom has just called you in because dinner is ready, like you're racing against the sunset so that your feet land inside the door just before the streetlights flick on.
You forgot what it was like to move your body in this way. To feel this momentary freedom. You make it about three minutes before your side starts to hurt, a telltale sign that you haven’t done this in far too long. The heat is starting to get to you too, but you said you’d go for five, and that’s what you’re doing.
It’s pitiful, the way you press yourself to the inside of your front door, trying to catch your breath from that little bit of work. Why did it hurt so much more than everything Jane Fonda tells you to do?
Maybe you’re not meant to be the athletic type. Or maybe I need to eat something, you think. I need to make a plan for myself. That could make it easier.
You can’t eat with your shirt sticking to your back though, so you strip and turn the shower on, practically jumping under the cool stream of water. But not before you glance at your body in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Your hands find your stomach, eye each stretch mark and bit of cellulite. Each extra-soft spot of skin, every part of you that doesn’t conform to the vision you have in your head.
You wish that five minute run had fixed everything. That you could magically look like an aerobics instructor and be happy in your own skin. Your eyes fill with tears, and you think for a minute that it could be better to just stop before you get ahead of yourself. What’s the point? You don’t know if you have it in you to wait and see results. And you know you won’t turn into someone else, won’t form a new shape…and then you’re spiraling. You can’t think of a single reason why exercising is worth it.
Because it can be fun. Because it pushes you and makes you stronger. You shove this tiny voice away and let your gaze flick back to the shower, where you’ve completely abandoned your cold sanctuary. You hop in and start scrubbing your hair, trying to think of anything that isn’t your body in that mirror, anything other than how much you looked like a fraud trying to fit in with everyone else.
————
You continue on this way for a while longer: running in the mornings, doing as many of the Jane Fonda videos as you have access to at work, drinking more water, blah blah blah. One of the perks of working at the library is that you can check out as many tapes as you want. But you’ve done all of Jane’s workouts, and you need more.
You could swim, but when is the community pool ever not full to the brim during the summer? You could try jazzercise. No. That’s just not for you. You could…go to the gym.
The pool also has small gyms for both women and men, and you know the men’s one is usually very busy, but most of the women in Hawkins take part in other forms of exercise. And if you went in the mornings…you might have the place to yourself. You might could try and tone up.
God, this sounds so stupid.
And your heart rate picks up just thinking about doing this very new and very big and very embarrassing thing, but you want to do it. You’re going to try.
Hopefully you’ll just go unnoticed. This is a totally normal thing for people to do, right?
The community pool opens at ten during the week, but the doors to the gyms open at seven. And that’s what time you get there, out of pure fear that you’ll have to interact with another human and make a fool of yourself. But the universe must be looking out for you on this particular morning, because the door is unlocked, and you slip in without any hassle.
Billy isn’t a morning person. He never has been, but an excuse to get out of his hellhole of a house before anyone else is up to fuck with him? Yeah, he jumped at that opportunity.
Usually the manager opens the gyms and stays to open the pool during the summer, but he volunteered. Especially because he can usually get in a workout before his shift technically even starts.
He’ll bench as much as he can without a spot, work on the pull ups he never tells anyone he struggles with. It just feels good to be able to use his muscles and push himself. Billy is proud of what his body can do, what it does for him, how it protects him—and he’s not ashamed to admit that.
His body is one of the only things he has control over, and he’s heard his share of people talking about how vain he is, how he shouldn’t spend so much time doing this or that. But he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s built a body he’s proud of and feels comfortable in, and truthfully he feels like everyone should be comfortable in their body without anyone else pushing them to look another way.
Billy is leaning against his car, hands tangled in his hair in an effort to tie it up, a cigarette dangling loosely from his full lips when he sees you for the first time.
He watches you get in your car, bag slung over your shoulder, interested only because he never sees another soul here this early.
You’re pretty, he thinks. Your hairline shines in the morning sunlight, damp with sweat, your neck the same. Your sports bra peeks through your pale shirt, and one of your slouchy socks is hiked up higher than the other. You’ve clearly just finished working out, but he thinks you look breathtaking.
There’s something about you. Something light and sweet that he can feel even from this distance, like something is telling him you have a good soul.
The next time Billy sees you, you come out of the door looking frustrated—he assumes at yourself. He doesn’t want to bother you, but he would like to talk to you at some point.
You turn around when you go to unlock your car door and lock eyes with him. Your heart stutters at the fact that someone has caught you, probably knows you were exercising. But he is gorgeous. You give him a small smile, and climb into the driver's seat. All you can think on the drive home is that it must be nice to be so effortlessly gorgeous.
————
You continue on this way for weeks. Close to a month. You workout, you wave and acknowledge one another. This other person who you share this tiny thing with and who you are not judged by.
On this particular day, you decide to be brave though. You packed a swimsuit, and you’re going to speak to that gorgeous boy and hope he doesn’t get freaked out by you.
You place your weights back on the rack, the muscles in your thighs pulsing, your arms feeling like jelly. You’ve only worked your way up to the set of fifteens, but that’s something, right?
You’re sweating, and dread walking outside into the swath of steadily climbing heat and humidity. Your heart pounds at the prospect of speaking to him.
With your bag over your shoulder, you push open the door and step outside, jumping almost immediately. “Shit!”
Billy laughs at your reaction, both because he hadn’t expected to frighten you, and because your jolt was pretty entertaining to witness.
“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I didn’t mean to make you lose your shit, it’s just too hot to stand anywhere without shade.”
You lean against the cool metal door behind you. “Fuck,” you sigh. “My survival skills are clearly not what they should be.”
Billy laughs into his drink, taking a swig from the Coke he bought at the vending machine.
“You headed out?” he asks, subconsciously fussing with a belt loop.
“Well, yeah, I was. But um, I was going to ask a favor from you, if that’s okay?” You must sound like a dumbass, speaking to this man for the very first time, only to ask him for something.
“Shoot,” Billy responds.
“Do you think it’d be okay for me to swim a few laps in the pool? I know it’s not open yet, and I haven’t even told you my name, but I promise not to be a bother or anything. I just kind of wanted a chance to swim when there was no one else around, you know?”
Billy finishes his drink and tosses the can in the recycling bin inches from your hip. It lands with a resounding ping.
You start to think this was a very stupid idea, and that maybe you should’ve just kept yourself at home like always.
“You can totally say no—”
“Yeah, sure I don’t see why not—”
Your words clash together and the both of you start to laugh. You raise your hand, gesturing for him to continue his thought.
“It’s fine by me if you swim a little. I doubt you’re gonna trash the place.” He grins at you, dimples forming in his cheeks. “I’m Billy, by the way.”
A heat rises up your neck and washes over the tips of your ears. You tell him your name and thank him for letting you bend the rules.
“Ah, fuck the rules. It’s just a community pool,” he winks, opening up the gate for you and telling you to have at it.
You’d put your one-piece on underneath your workout clothes this morning, and you try to ignore the prick of shame, even disgust, that you feel having put your body in it as you wade into the pool.
The water is cool, and as it drenches you, you feel lighter, somehow. You swim out to the deep end and push off the wall with your toes, propelling yourself underwater and kicking for as long as you can go while holding your breath.
The little girl that still lives within your soul leaps to the surface, giddy with each push off the wall, each stroke of your arms underneath the water. She is excited. Free.
She isn’t thinking about what your stomach looks like in this swimsuit or how stupid you probably look with your sloppy swimming skills.
You swim for maybe twenty minutes, or at least until your shoulders are aching. You kick over to the wall, hoisting yourself up just that little bit so you can prop your elbows up on the warming concrete.
You feel so light here that it almost makes you forget why you came.
You hear footsteps and Billy appears from around the corner, a fluffy white towel in hand.
“You getting out? I figured I’d come and make sure you hadn’t drowned.”
You giggle. The sound makes him smile, pearly white teeth on display. Your eyes are drawn to his, where the summer sun has multiplied his freckles so much that they blanket his nose and the tops of his cheeks, washing over his temples.
“I appreciate you looking out for my safety,” you say, climbing up the short ladder. Billy holds out a hand to help you steady yourself as you stand. You’re hesitant to take it because you’re all wet, but your hand moves before your mind takes control. “Thank you.” You give him a shy smile.
He grins at you and hands you the towel. You wrap it around your shoulders and follow him back under the awning when he starts walking away. Billy leans up against the cold brick wall and you stand, a little nervously, in front of him, trying to think of what to say.
“I’ll admit, uh, it’s been nice to see someone else here so early in the mornings.” Billy lets out a huff of a laugh. “I was gonna ask though, why’d you pick this shithole to workout in?”
You pull the damp towel tighter against your torso. “It’s a quiet shithole,” you say. “And this whole exercising thing is pretty new to me, you know? I didn’t want to be somewhere people could see me like that.”
You realize how self-deprecating that comment was, realize you’re being too upfront, and try to quickly cover your ass. “What about you?” you ask, daring to make eye contact just to make sure he’s not disturbed.
“Well, it came with the job,” he laughs, “and I love working out. Always have. Plus, it might be a shitty place, but the older equipment is a lot better than what newer gyms are using. So it works for me.”
Huh.
“Oh. Nice.” You chew on your thumbnail. What a fuckup you are.
Billy tilts his head, trying to encourage your gaze to raise to his. “What just happened?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
You look at him, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair and arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s nothing…I just don’t really know what to say to someone who enjoys the gym? Who has a positive relationship with it and everything.”
A crease forms between Billy’s brows. “You’ve been crazy consistent with it, but you don’t like it?” He asks you, but based on your body language and how you’ve acted the past month every time you head out, everything adds up and Billy knows the answer before it even leaves your mouth.
You shake your head, ashamed that you even brought this up. “No,” you laugh nervously. “I hate it. I only started because I’m unhappy with myself? So it’s more of a punishment than something that brings me joy.”
Billy’s chest squeezes at your words. That is exactly why he started working out all those years ago. To make himself stronger because he was ashamed his father had power over him. Because he wasn’t good enough for anyone, so out of anger he made himself more powerful.
But he doesn’t want you to feel that way. You shouldn’t be working out purely to punish yourself for some absurd reason your mind has come up with.
And even though Billy has had very minimal interactions with you, he likes you. He wouldn’t wish the horrible thoughts he’s had for himself on anyone else, but he gets the feeling you already know.
“Well, I’m not gonna berate you or nothin.’ But uh, if you ever want help, or want to workout together so it’s not so miserable, let me know alright?”
You smirk at him, hoping to make the situation a bit less awkward. “Are you implying you’re the reason working out would become less miserable?”
Billy laughs, glad to see you’re not totally opposed to the idea of him offering help. “Yeah. But really, you shouldn’t have to hate it y’know? If I can help you figure out not to hate it…I’d like to try. And we could get to know each other better.”
Billy fidgets with the lighter in his pocket. He’s weaned off cigarettes, but he keeps loads of lighters around so he has something to occupy his hands with. If not, it’s usually not a good situation for him to be in.
Your heart squeezes at the genuine quality in his words. You feel like you’re a lost cause at this point, but there’s a big part of you, the soft and squishy and easily flustered one, that wants to take him up on this offer.
You nod, wrapping up your towel so you can drop it in the bin and go get changed. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Billy. Promise.”
————
“One more.”
“I can’t, Billy. I told you, I’m not strong enough for this shit.”
You swear when you’re frustrated. Billy has learned that over the past few weeks.
He crouches, leveling with you. Your knee bounces, the dumbbells in your hands sitting on the tops of your thighs. “Yes, you can. You’re already up to twenty-fives for your presses. Try one more for me and then you can rest a minute.”
Your eyes well with tears that you quickly blink away as you settle back against the bench. This is the point in a workout where you just start to hate yourself. You think it’s pointless, you know you’re body hasn’t changed enough, you feel like total shit—everything just feels fucked.
You use your knees to help lift the dumbbells and slowly lift them to the appropriate height, making sure to protect your shoulders like Billy taught you. You inhale and raise them up. Your arms are shaking, especially your non-dominant one which is really fighting this shoulder press, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to lift them fully until you do.
“Fuck, yeah!” Billy’s voice reaches your ears just as you’re lowering your arms, completely out of breath. You set the dumbbells on the floor.
Billy is thrilled for you. He can see the progress you’re making, how much stronger you are and less hesitant to try new exercises.
When you look up at him the expression on your face tells him you are not thrilled.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?”
You stand and walk over to the mirror that covers one whole wall. You put your hands on your hips and bite the inside of your cheek. “Billy, will you look at me, honestly?” You gesture to your body. “This is the matter. I don’t look any different than the first day I showed up here, do I? Even if I’ve been busting my ass, I’ll just never—”
You stop, rubbing your hands down your face and over your bloodshot eyes.
“You’ll never what?” Billy locks eyes with you in the mirror.
You set a hand on your chest, nails digging into your skin. “My body will never be good enough for me. I’ll always look at every other person that walks by, jealous that they have the figure I want and I’ll never have. Why did I have to get stuck with this shit? Why couldn’t I be given a body that I’d be happy with. Life if fucking hard enough, why couldn’t I have this one thing?”
“And you’re just so effortlessly gorgeous, you know that? I wish it was that easy for me, too. It’s just like, why am I even doing this anymore when I know I’ll never look the way other women do? I’m bullshitting myself, aren’t I, Billy? Working out like it’s gonna do anything.”
You exhale and drag your arm across your nose, avoiding Billy’s gaze.
“Hey. Look at me.” Billy’s tone is firm. “Listen for a second, will you?”
“You are getting stronger. You’re using heavier weights all around. Shit, you’re up to fifty for your deadlifts. Hold your arm up for me—yeah, and squeeze, yep. Look at that.”
He taps his index and middle finger on your bicep, on the bit of muscle you’ve grown and shape you’ve built. “You are absolutely not bullshitting yourself, you hear me? If anything, you’re bullshitting yourself by thinking you can’t be happy in this body. You don’t have to look like other women. Who the fuck put that idea in your head? I don’t know if you see how I look at you, but I think you’re gorgeous, and I love to see you becoming more comfortable in the movements you do, in your own strength. Your body does so fuckin’ much for you.”
Billy is still keeping eye contact with you in the mirror. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and you swear you sweat more because you know he’s right and you know you are getting stronger but fuck you just can’t believe that. You look at him and you just wish you were that lithe, that comfortable in your own skin.
“I’m doing this with you—hey, take a deep breath, alright?” He clocks the way you’re shaking out your hands, trying to keep yourself from breaking. Crying. Screaming out of frustration. “I’m doing this with you because I used to be just like this, you hear me?”
He hates being vulnerable, fucking despises it, but he knows that giving you this information, giving you this little pathway into his life just might save you right now.
“I worked out all through junior high and high school because I fuckin’ hated myself, and I thought if I could get bigger, if I could make myself look intimidating, then maybe other people wouldn’t treat me like shit. That part worked in some places, but I didn’t like myself any more because I hadn’t sorted through any of my mental shit.”
He says your name. Slowly. You like the way it sounds when he says it, hating the way it sounds when it leaves your own lips.
“I know we aren’t all that close yet, but I see so much fuckin’ potential in you. I’m not gonna let you suffer with all this shit alone. I know you hate your body, but this is the one you were given, and there’s no point spending so much time destroying yourself over that simple fact.”
You turn around to face him, your hands on the sides of your neck, rubbing as if that will stop the emotion from rising in your throat. It doesn’t work. Billy’s eyes move back and forth between yours, across your face, tracking every change in your expression. He recognizes what you’re doing, trying to suppress all of this.
“C’mere.”
You go before your mind can fight back. Billy takes you in his arms, tucking your face into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You breathe unsteadily into his skin. You don’t care that he smells like sweat and you smell like sweat and that you’re shaking and tears are slipping from your eyes. His arms are strong, and the feeling of his biceps squeezing you closer, his hands running up and down your back, it makes it all feel like it’s okay.
“It’s just so fucking hard, Billy,” you mumble, lifting your head up slightly. “It’s not fair. I just want to be pretty and normal and have a body I can accept like everyone else.”
Billy gently touches his index finger just below your chin, coaxing your gaze up to meet his. “I know it is. And I mean it when I say that you are pretty. Honestly, you gotta think about how many ‘pretty’ people there are out there, people who have the bodies the tabloids tell them to have—and are absolute dicks. Hell, that’s how I was in high school.”
Your eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling that he did get a little joy in you having admitted that, even if it’s not a full on smile. His thumb swipes down your cheek, mopping up the little track left by a tear.
“Point is, this, what I’m holding right now, is your body. No one else would know it like you do, know how to take care of it, know where each mark has come from or each thing you’ve put it through. Each thing it’s gotten you through. You can accept it, because I’m going to help you get to a point where you can look in the mirror and not shit-talk yourself.”
You pull back a little, pressing the palms of your hands to your face, your elbows slightly poking the top of Billy’s rib cage. “I’m just so scared.”
“I got you, you hear me?” He pulls your shirt away from your collarbones just so it’s not sticking to your skin so much. “You don’t need to be scared. Not with me.”
You nod. And you keep doing that until it feels a little more believable.
————
Billy can’t stop looking at you.
And he really needs to focus before he runs off the sidewalk and into the road.
But for the first time in the few months he’s known you, you look free. You look happy. You look all of these things and you’re running. There’s a baseball cap perched backwards on your head, one of his from forever ago that he lent (gave) you when you mentioned you didn’t have any.
He can smell the sunscreen you’ve slathered all over yourself, see the sweat dripping down your spine. This is the first time you’ve felt brave enough to go out in just a sports bra and a cropped sweatshirt, bright colored biker shorts covering the tops of your thighs. Your frilly socks make it too, just because it shows how much more comfortable you’ve gotten with doing this.
It turns out you never hated running. You just needed to do it in a different atmosphere, with different thoughts running through your head. And having a good running partner helps, too.
“There’s a bench up here if you want to rest a second before we finish,” Billy says through a rather aggressive exhale. You’re glad the sun is setting, because that makes it so much cooler than when you try to run in the morning with the sun beating down on you and seeping into your veins.
You sit down, taking a long drink from your water. Billy crouches on the sidewalk, shaking out his hair and retying the mess of a bun he was wearing.
“You’re doing so good today,” he tells you, winking at you from his place just a few inches to your left.
You grin into your water bottle. “How long was that?” you ask.
He rises and sits down next to you, his arm slung behind your back on the bench. His thumb brushes the shell of your ear, rubs over the little hoop you’re wearing. You watch as he does a little math in his head, checking out where exactly you are. “Little over two miles, bee.”
Bee. Your heart skips every time he says that. It’s a very new thing, but it sort of slipped out one day, and you’ve loved it ever since.
“What movie you wanna see this weekend, honeybee? My treat.”
When you’d asked why he chose that name for you, he’d teased at first, telling you it was just because you’re so damn sweet. But really it was a little more sappy than that.
“Well, you are sweet. And bubbly when you want to be. But think about how much shit those little fuckers get done. How persistent and focused. They’re all cute and fuzzy n’ whatever, but they’re like, badass lil’ things, y’know?”
Your knee bounces excitedly on the pavement. “Really?” That’s the farthest you’ve run so far. And you didn’t even hate it. You had…fun.
Billy laughs, throwing his head back a little and bearing his neck to you. It shines with sweat and it almost looks like he’s glowing. “Fuck yeah. You’ve been kicking my ass this week. I hate running.”
“But you do it with me,” you say.
“But I do it with you.”
You reach over your shoulder and squeeze his hand. “I like running better when it’s with you. Just for the record.” He squeezes back, lifting your hand up gently to press his lips to it.
“I’m proud of you, you know that?”
A crease forms between your brows as you meet his gaze. “What for?”
“For not giving up.” You start to argue with him, but he continues before you can belittle yourself even the slightest bit. “You’ve kept at this, at trying to get yourself stronger and to try and feel more comfortable in what your body can do. I know you probably still wish you looked like some fuckin’ model or some shit, but I can see how much you’ve eased up, you know?”
You nod, giving him a small smile. “I do still wish that sometimes. It would be easier. But I’m getting better, I think. I hate to tell you you’re right—,” he shoots you that cocky, prideful grin, “but my body does do a lot for me. I’m starting to accept that it can do a lot for me…”
You trail off, tapping the toes of your sneakers on the concrete below you. “And I did squat with the bar and those little plates yesterday without a spot.”
The spot in question was watching you carefully from a few feet away, ready to sprint if you needed help.
“Yes, you did, bee. You’re kicking ass.” That dimple forms in his cheek, and you know he’s about to say something smart. “Speaking of ass—”
You stand abruptly, turning around quickly so that the area he’s speaking of isn’t directly in his face. You’ve learned he has a staring problem, specifically with that part of you. Not that you mind. Maybe that’s where your pride comes in.
————
The sun has slipped beneath the horizon by the time Billy slips his key into the gate, pulling it securely shut behind him. The first spattering of stars are trying to show in the purple-blue sky.
The pool is calm, empty, and lit only by the pale bulbs built into it and the two light poles on either side of the patio.
It was Billy’s idea to sneak in for a late night swim. He thought it would be fun, and he knows you hate swimming in an overcrowded pool. But truthfully, he just wanted to give you another space where you could feel completely without judgment and just exist.
“What’s the plan here, Billy? I didn’t even think about taking a detour to get a swimsuit.”
It’s true, you’ve felt so carefree around him that you weren’t overthinking, overanalyzing a scenario like this. You weren’t worried about running inside and finding the most full coverage bathing suit you have because you’re afraid of Billy seeing your body. But right now…you just feel calm. Your body isn’t perfect, but it’s okay if he at least sees your legs.
Billy is already slipping off his shoes and taking off his shirt. “That’s because the point of this is being spontaneous, bee.” He walks to the far end of the pool and dives in, just in his little running shorts, before you can even blink.
You’re nervous, just that little bit because this is so different from something you’d usually do, and now you’re just stripping? You’re just living and having a good time? Who the fuck are you?
You step out of your own shorts and pull off your socks. You’re left in your underwear and your little cropped sweatshirt. You register, as you walk down the stairs, that your underwear are blue, and you look just like Lisa from Weird Science. It makes you smile.
You track Billy’s movements once you're up to your waist and realize he’s heading for you. He squeezes your ankle beneath the water before coming to the surface, a wide grin on his face. His necklace is stuck around his back and on instinct you reach out to straighten it.
His eyes drag up and down your figure. “Hi, gorgeous.” The low drawl of his voice makes the tips of your ears burn.
You wade a little deeper into the water, circling behind him. When you’re drenched up to your chest, you splash him. Billy cackles. It is possibly the most joyous sound you’ve ever heard.
He dives for your waist, hooking an arm around you and swimming off, making you howl with laughter before you have to hold your own breath when he pulls you out deeper than you are tall.
He hoists you up out of the water and gently tosses you to the side, letting you fall into the water on your back. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is magical.
You keep playing with him, playing, like you’re both kids who’ve never been in a pool before, until you’ve run through most of your energy. You try and teach him a game you played as a child, where one person spreads their legs and your goal is to swim between them without touching their skin, even as they move their legs closer together each time.
It’s silly, because you inevitably know you’ll touch your opponents legs, but it’s fun. You don’t think about anything else when you do it. He teases you though, trapping you with his calves most times so you automatically lose.
Now though, you and Billy stand nose to nose, at a depth where you’re not up to your chin so that you can actually speak to him. “This was a really good idea,” you tell him. You push some of his wet hair out of his face and then, rather than pulling away, you set your hands on his shoulders.
He wraps his arms around your waist. “This okay?” he asks, lowering one arm so he can show you he wants to lift you up. You give him a sweet yes.
Billy’s hand grips your thigh, coaxing you upward so you can get your legs around his back. You adjust your arms behind his head, him respectfully keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs. He steps back just that little bit more so he can submerge himself further in the water now that you’re held up.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile for this long before,” Billy says. His blue eyes flick back and forth between your own.
“You’ve given me a lot more reasons to.” Your hand cups his cheek and he swears he could fucking collapse. You’re so gentle with him and Billy never knew he even wanted that. But now he craves it. Craves you.
That cocky smirk you’ve started to recognize before it even begins makes an appearance. “Yeah? Can I give you one more reason to?”
You hum in agreement, and then Billy is pressing his lips to yours. They’re damp and he tastes a little like chlorine, but…he was right. You smile brilliantly into the kiss, and you’re not sure you stop the rest of the night either.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
#savannah’s fics#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargove imagine#billy hargrove comfort#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove oneshot
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i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.
Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any movie he wants.
Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 8.8k
Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.
A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all <3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!
divider by firefly-graphics
August 1981
"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."
You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing.
"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."
He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard.
"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."
"I'll help you with your work," you say.
Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted.
"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."
Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it.
"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."
"You think?"
You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again.
"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks.
The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face.
"Why wouldn't we?"
"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."
You shove Steve's shoulder lightly.
"You are not dumb, Steve."
One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.
He had made you swear not to tell anyone.
"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."
His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you.
"Tommy says I am."
"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."
You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you.
“Promise?” he asks.
“Yes, Steve. I promise.”
“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.”
You nod and lay back on the floaty.
“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks.
“Just us?”
“Just us.”
Now. (January, 1987)
You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you.
Whoops. Right. You're still at work.
You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing.
You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink.
And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it?
Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar.
“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”
Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.
“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”
“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.
“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."
The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.
“Who’s gonna make me? You?”
You lean against the side of the game, considering.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” he says.
You snort.
“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”
He glances at you.
“So?”
“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.”
You wink at Dustin. He beams.
“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add.
The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently.
“Seriously?” he asks.
“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”
Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway.
You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight.
“You’re awesome, Y/N!"
You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”
Dustin sours.
“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?”
“No way!"
He shakes his head.
“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”
You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”
“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot.
“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again."
You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young.
Dustin shrugs, starting the game.
“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”
“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”
“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”
“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."
You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town.
"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."
"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."
“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."
"Would I now?"
"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered."
"Wow. Impressive."
"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”
“You would?”
The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.
“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”
“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."
“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”
“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”
Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.
“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”
"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."
"'Kay!"
Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family.
"Who do I ask for?"
"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"
"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"
"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."
Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck.
The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.
"Can I help who's next?"
You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!
"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says.
"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?"
You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler.
She nods in realization.
"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."
You wince.
"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"
Her brows raise. She smiles a bit.
"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"
"Pretty in Pink," you say.
"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"
"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."
She grins.
"Me too. She's pretty."
"Super pretty," you agree.
The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand.
"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."
You take her hand. "Y/N.”
"Did you go to Hawkins High?"
"I did. Graduated last year."
"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"
You nod.
"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."
"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"
"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."
You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest.
"How come?" she asks.
"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."
Robin smiles sympathetically.
"They're jerks," she says.
You huff. "Yeah."
You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore.
Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans.
"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."
"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from.
She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass.
You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on.
The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures.
"Have you been waiting long?"
You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter.
Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font.
He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles.
"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."
You blink.
"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye.
"No," you manage.
"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?"
He doesn't remember you.
You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.
And he doesn't remember you.
"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.
You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve.
"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."
"I have to go," you say.
You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin.
Her brows rise.
"Oh. Is everything—"
"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."
"That's okay, we can just—"
You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away.
Only there do you stop to catch your breath.
And then you cry.
February 1982
"What do you think about Marie?"
You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table.
"Marie Iverson?" you ask.
"Yeah."
Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it.
"I don't know. I don't know her that well."
"She's cute."
"I guess so," you say.
It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—
"I was thinking of asking her out."
The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase.
"Shit, here. Take mine."
Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."
"Sure. So what do you think?"
"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."
"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."
Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before.
"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now.
"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."
"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."
Steve deflates.
"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."
You sigh and rub your temple.
"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."
"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."
Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?"
"Writing?"
"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."
"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."
He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention.
"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."
Steve laughs, nose scrunched.
"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."
"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words."
"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"
"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."
Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."
Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.
You shuffle your papers into a stack.
"Can we study now?" you ask.
"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."
"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."
He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.
"Lemme take you out," he says.
You nearly swallow your tongue.
"Wh–what?"
"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."
"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."
Steve beams. "I'll drive you."
Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do.
You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair.
Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back.
"Just us?" you check.
You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together.
"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?"
You check your watch and close your book.
"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later."
Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.)
"Please," he says. "For helping me."
Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."
Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends.
"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."
You perk up at that. "Really?"
"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?"
"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."
And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.
Now
You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs.
"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."
You might have overshot the perks, though.
Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses.
"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."
She shoots you a mean look.
"I'm complaining to the manager."
You paste on a smile.
"You do that. Have a nice day."
She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation.
Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile.
"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.
Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always.
You lean your elbows on the countertop.
"What'll it be, gang?"
"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."
You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes.
"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.
"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."
Dustin accepts this with no argument.
"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."
You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that.
He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking.
"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say.
"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?"
Lucas nods.
"Yup. They're both parents."
You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey.
"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."
"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."
"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"
Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you.
"What?"
"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains.
"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."
"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."
"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone.
Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie.
"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."
"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort.
"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared.
"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."
"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector."
Dustin nods eagerly.
You blink. "He protects you guys?"
Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly.
"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."
"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."
"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."
"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."
You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that.
"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."
"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."
"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?"
Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."
"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”
“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.
“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”
You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change.
When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty.
"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"
"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."
"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"
"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."
"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.
"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business."
"And why can't your babysitter take you?"
You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional.
"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."
Now that sounds like the Steve you knew.
"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."
"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."
“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.
You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.
“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”
“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.
“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”
You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.
“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”
Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”
You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”
“Byeeee!”
They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.
March 1983
“Okay, but if you had to choose.”
“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”
Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”
“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”
“Exactly! My birthday.”
He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.
“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”
“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”
“I keep telling you you need glasses.”
“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”
He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool.
“Shit,” he says.
You belly laugh in delight.
“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”
“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”
"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."
You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy.
The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy.
“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”
"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.
“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”
“‘S cold.”
“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”
He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”
“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.
“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.
“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason.
“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”
“Can’t believe no one else came.”
You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.
“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”
You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.
“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.
“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”
“I listen.”
Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.
“God, I miss you,” he says.
You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little.
“I’m right here, Steve.”
“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”
Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.
“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”
“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”
“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.
“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”
You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.
“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”
“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”
Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”
His laugh is warm in your neck.
You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.
Now
“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”
“Game plan?” El asks quietly.
“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”
She stares at Lucas.
“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”
“Right.”
“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”
You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”
Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”
“Or a total disaster,” Max says.
You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.
“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”
The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.
“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”
Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”
“Uh-huh.”
The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning.
“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area.
You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share.
“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”
Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.
“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”
He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.
“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.
“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”
“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”
“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”
He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”
“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.
“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”
“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”
Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.
“Harrington, man, what’s up!”
Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.
“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”
Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.
“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm.
“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.
“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”
America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying.
“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded.
You feel a burst of pride.
Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.
“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”
“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”
No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror.
“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”
Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.
Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”
Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”
Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.
“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”
He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.
“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”
The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket.
“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”
“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”
Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.
“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”
She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you.
“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”
“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”
Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”
You’re suddenly exhausted.
“What do you want, Steve?”
“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”
“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”
“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”
“I didn’t want it that much.”
“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”
“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”
“Y/N—”
“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”
Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it.
“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”
“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”
“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”
Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.
So you run. Again.
You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting.
You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?
So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.
Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.
Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.
"Slushie?"
She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"
You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"
"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"
Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth.
You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese.
"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.
Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"
"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?"
Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too.
"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava.
"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"
"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."
Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none.
"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."
"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."
You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head.
"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."
"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."
Robin smiles a sad smile.
"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."
The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?
"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."
"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."
"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble.
"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."
You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.
"If you two are—"
"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met."
"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."
Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."
You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot.
"This town is so shit," you say.
"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."
"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."
Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."
"I can sometimes be an asshole."
"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?"
You laugh. "We'll get jackets."
"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle.
You look at the tape in your hand.
"Does Steve like John Hughes?"
"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."
He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved.
"I did want to watch this one," you say.
"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises.
You suppose not.
December 1984
You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.
Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on.
Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap.
Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.
You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't.
A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself.
You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.
Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been.
"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."
There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie.
It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.
Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not.
Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy.
Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life.
No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.
You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault.
But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him.
You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital.
Now (And Forever)
The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.
It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.
The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it.
Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.
That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.
I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.
You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.
I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.
Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you.
I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck.
But I miss you. I always have.
Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.
I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships.
Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that.
It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.
I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it.
I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.
You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.
Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.
Sincer
Lo
Your friend,
Steve
You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand.
You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.
It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.
There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.
You knock on the door three times. And wait.
Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.
The door swings open.
Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine.
“I got your letter,” you say.
“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you.
“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”
Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”
His brows knit. “What?”
“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”
“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”
“Like a friend?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask.
“Always.”
You squeeze your eyes shut.
“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”
You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—
“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”
And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.
“I missed you,” you confess.
Steve nods against your shoulder.
“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”
“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.
“Hmm?”
You pull back to look at Steve.
“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”
“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”
“We found each other again.”
#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#friends to lovers#strangers to lovers#friends to strangers to lovers
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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!!
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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.
#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x oc#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove x you#stranger things smut#dacryphilia#slow burn#stranger things fic#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove fluff#eddie munson#80s#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x female reader#billy stranger things
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Best kept Secret
Part 1
Billy Hargrove x Harrington!reader
Find P2 here!
Summary: Billy is a dick to everyone and your brother is his number one hater, however, he's so hard to resist.
Minors DNI!
Warnings: mentions of violence, fighting, sexual comments, blood, swearing, derogatory words, public sex, mentions of kinks,
___________________________________________________
"Steve!" you call out. You've been waiting on your brother downstairs for the past 30 minutes to take you to school. "STEVE, I SWEAR TO GOD HURRY THE FUCK UP!" you yell out for the 20th time this morning. "Geeze I'm coming relax!" he yells back as you see him round the corner towards the stairs. He makes it down and grabs his bag as you open the front door. "Don't tell me to relax we are literally late for school because someone decided to go to a party last night and is now hungover!" you say as you open the door to his car frustrated that your late because of him. "When did you become such a prude?" your brother replies as he starts the car, and backs out of the drive-way. You slap the back of his neck, "HEY I'm driving idiot!"
When you get to school you slam the car door and head straight to the gym. "Have a good day too!" your brother yells after you and shakes his head. "Thanks dumbass!" you yell back, flipping him off, you can't wait until you get your own car.
You arrive to the gym and see that they already started practice without you. "Hey y/n you're late" the cheer captain Lisa says. "Yeah I know" you roll your eyes at her, and fake smile. "Okay everyone now that some people finally decided to join us, we can go over our routine for tonights game" she says while looking at you. God she's such a bitch you thought while putting your gym bag down. As you sit on the bench to tie your shoes, you hear the gym doors open and in comes Billy. He was wearing the schools gym uniform and you could tell that he's been here for a while by the way his hair was slightly damp. Billy takes a drink from the water he was carrying and combs his hair back. He scans the room locking eyes with you. You notice that you've been starring at him and quickly look down, continuing to tie your shoes. You quickly finish and look up again to see that he's already heading your way. Crap you thought as you stand up and try to walk away, but he's too quick. He grabs your arm, "Y/n", the way he says your name makes you want to do unholy things so badly. You clear your throat and look him in the eyes, "Billy" he smirks knowing that you'll never dare to back down. He bends down in front of you and gets on his knees. You look down at him in shock "Billy wh-what are you doing?" you secretly whisper at him not wanting to alert anyone in the gym. He grabs your leg bringing his hand slowly down as he finally reaches your shoe. You look to see that you didn't fully tie it due to the rushing of trying to get away. "Careful sweetheart wouldn't want you to trip, now would we?" he says as he finishes up tying your shoe. He stands up and grins at you, "I'll see you later" he walks away leaving you a blushing mess as you watch him exit the gym. "Y/n!" Lisa yells at you, "What the hell are you doing, get over here!" You jump as her voice pulls your attention back and away from billy, "Right, I'm sorry" you hurry up and get into position, hoping that she didn't see what just happened.
As soon as practice is over you head outside to look for your friends. On your way you bump into someone's back. "Hey watch were your going dumbass!" you look up to see billy, just as he turns around and meets your eyes, "Oh shit honey, I'm sorry" he looks at you and grabs your hand. "It's okay Billy everyone knows you're an asshole, you don't have to put up a front and apologize to me" he scoffs at your words. "What am I wrong?" you question him. He just smiles and pulls you down the hall, towards an empty classroom.
When inside he closes the door and lets go of your hand. You walk towards the teacher's desk and sit on it. "See there's a difference sweetheart" , he says while walking towards you. "I may be an asshole but I'm a dick to everyone but you", he reaches you and wraps his arms around your waist, while you put yours around his neck. "Billy" you whine, "Yes?" he looks at you, his eyes darkening. "Kiss me". He grabs your neck, pushing you closer as your lips finally crash together. You feel his tongue fighting yours as he pushes you to lay back on the desk. You hear items fall to the floor as he gets on top of you. You both moan into the kiss continuing to fight for dominance. He wins and you pull back for air. "God I need you Y/n" he groans. "Then take me" you whine back. He grabs your hips and pulls your skirt down. "Ever since I saw you first put on this little skimpy cheer outfit, I've been wanting to fuck you in it" he reveals sliding his fingers past your folds, setting a fast pace. "Billy!" you scream out. "Careful princess, don't want anyone to hear us" he says as he picks up the pace. "Fuck Billy you're gonna make me come" you throw your head back against the desk. "That's the goal sweetheart" he chuckles out. You put a hand on his arm, stopping him, "Billy I want to come on your dick" you look up at him, while he opens his mouth in shock. "You such a filthy little thing aren't you?" he grins while pulling out his fingers from your soaking cunt. "Well if that's what you want, who am I to deny a lady?" he smirks at you, undoing his belt. You sit up helping to free himself. "You have made me so hard Y/n" he pants while stroking himself a few times. You lay back down while he guides himself into you. "Fu-ckkkk"~ he moans out. "You feel so good sweetheart" he says, starting to fuck into you. "Please Billy fuck me harder"~. He listens to you fucking you faster and harder, while bringing a hand up to rub your clit. "Ahhhhhhh~ Billy!" you yell out. "Shushhhh baby you can take it...good girls shut up and take it, are you going to be a good girl for me Y/n?" he brings a hand up to your face moving your hair out the way. "Yes Billy I'll be your good girl" you cry out as he continues his speed. "Im gonna cu-" he puts a hand over your mouth quieting your cries as you reach your climax. Soon after he follows "Fuck baby" he pulls out and comes on your stomach some getting on your uniform. "Billy what the hell!" you groan out as you see the wet spot. "Relax sweetheart you can wash it out later" he kisses you and you melt into it. Just as he pulls away you hear a snap and the desk breaks. Billy and you both falling to the floor.
"We fucked so hard we broke the desk" you laugh out. He stands up and grabs your hand pulling you up, "I couldn't deny my lady's order to go faster" he grins at you softly chuckling. "Hey Billy um we should probably get out of here before lunch ends" you say relazing that you're both still at school and someone could walk in at any moment.
You both get clean up and walk outside the classroom, when the bell rings. "Well so much for lunch" you say to him smiling. You go to walk to class, but he stops you. "Hey let me at least walk you" You look back at him "No way Billy, what if someone sees us, we agreed to keep this a secret remember?" He scoffs at you, "We have been keeping this a secret for 4 months Y/n, how much longer until I can go out with my own girlfriend.... I mean seriously pretending that we don't know each other is getting old". You look at him like he's stupid, "Um- hello have you not met my brother he doesn't really like you.. he would totally kill you"
"Y/n I can take Harrington in a fight, trust me he can't hurt me" he says back. "Billy that's not the point, the point is that your a fucking dickhead that bully people and literally the most annoying person I have met, I should fucking hate you, but for some reason I want you instead... the least I can do is not let everybody know that I'm dating a prick and be seen with you!" you tell him, but you quickly regret it when you see the way he looks at you. "Wow" is all he says while quickly walking awhile, disappearing down the hall way. Fuck!
You go to class and sit down next to your best friend, Nancy. "Hey where did you go at lunch, Robin and I were looking for you?" she asks opening up her notebook. "I was busy" you reply, thinking about how quickly you can fix things with Billy and hopefully it's fast.
#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#stranger things#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove#billy hargove smut#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x fem!reader smut#billy hargrove x female reader#steve harrington
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PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | b.h. x reader
Summary | Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…
Author's Note | Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!
Warnings & Notes | fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)
Music Inspo | Closer by Nine Inch Nails
WC | 1.9k
You let me violate you | You let me desecrate youYou let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you
“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”
God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.
Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.
But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused ���who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.
This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.
And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.
So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.
And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.
And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.
You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.
But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.
“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.
“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”
“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.
And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?
You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.
“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”
You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.
But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?
No, it was not hot.
You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.
No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.
“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.
The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.
“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.
He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”
“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”
Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”
Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.
“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”
You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”
You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”
“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”
“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”
Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”
“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.
“I don’t need a ride from you.”
“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”
“More like devious.”
“I’ll be a total gentleman.”
You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
#billy hargrove#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x female reader#stranger things
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Any cute christmas/winter requests for Billy, Theo and teacher!reader?? And Minnie of course!! lemme know :))
#billy hargrove#Billy Hargrove x reader#Billy Hargrove smut#Billy Hargrove fluff#Billy Hargrove x teacher!reader
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Silent Confessions, Loud Masks - Billy Hargrove x Reader Series
I'm so excited about my brand new series! Not going to lie this first chapter was difficult for me to write. I have a serious battle with the dreaded delete button!
Anyways, hope you all enjoy this first chapter. It truly means a lot to me how excited you have been for this series <3 Comment below to be added to the taglist.
(Please reblog!!!)
Happy reading!
Word Count: 4.3K
Warnings: mostly angst with some slight rude remarks/bullying
Introduction to the series here!
Masterlist
(had this song in my head while writing this chapter)
In the tumultuous whirlwind of your teenage existence, embarking on your final year of high school, you've recently become aware of a singular truth: put full trust into the future that stretches far beyond the grasp of your present moment. Amidst the unexpected certainties that await, there's one you never anticipated – Billy Hargrove.
Billy reigns as the new king of Hawkins High, his “coronation” following the departure of Steve "The Hair" Harrington. He embodies the archetype of a manic attention-seeker, parading through the halls with a rotating carousel of girls, each week presenting a fresh face to the crowded hallways. It's a spectacle that leaves you utterly perplexed, unable to fathom the allure that draws countless girls into his orbit, only to be summarily discarded days later.
Thankfully, you've managed to maintain a safe distance from Billy and his band of lunatics, skillfully navigating the school corridors to avoid any unwanted encounters. While you share a few classes with his entourage, you've strategically positioned yourself in the front row, creating a buffer zone that shields you from their antics.
However, fate has a penchant for upheaval, as evidenced by your first detention – a consequence of arriving late to homeroom on three separate occasions. As you begrudgingly endure the mind-numbing 30-minute sentence after school, Robin, your loquacious best friend, offers her trademark blend of sympathy and sarcasm.
“They seriously gave you a detention for that? Couldn’t you pull the ‘I’m a straight A student who has never gotten in trouble before, please help dear little me this one time’ on them?”
“Sadly no. I definitely tried to get out of it but they’ve been cracking down on a bunch of seniors for a couple weeks now.”
“I'll wait up for you after band practice.” Robin slams her locker shut.
“Thanks. See you later.” You turn to go down the opposite hallway than her.
“Have fun troublemaker.” Robin pokes fun at your new “status” and you give her the finger back jokingly before you both wave and disappear down your own paths.
With a sigh, you resign yourself to the monotony of detention, selecting a seat near the window to alleviate the stifling atmosphere of confinement. The rules plastered on the board, NO FOOD. NO TALKING. STAY IN YOUR SEAT, serve as a constant reminder of the school’s misguided attempts at discipline.
You roll your eyes at the obnoxious nature of this situation. Why do schools think detention is ever going to work? You are put in a room for a certain amount of time with other delinquents. If anything you’re setting up a scenario for more trouble to happen.
You pull out the current book you're reading, ignoring all the rest of the students who walk in.
“Alright, welcome to detention. I have quite a lot of work to finish so I will be checking in periodically. When it’s your time to leave per your detention slip, come see me in my classroom and I’ll sign you out. Please respect the rules.” Mr. Thomson, the junior science teacher turned detention overseer, delivers a perfunctory address before retreating to his sanctuary, leaving the delinquent assembly to their own devices.
Amidst the murmurs of discontent, Billy's name resonates like a discordant note, signaling the unwelcome intrusion of Hawkins High's reigning sovereign.
“Are we gonna flake out again Billy?” It didn’t even cross your mind about the possibility of being stuck in the same room as him.
“Can’t. I’ve skipped so many that they want to try and expel me.”
“That'd be hardcore to see.”
“Not to my dad it wouldn’t. Besides, it's not that bad. We have quite the sight sitting up there in the left corner today.”
As Billy and his cohorts encroach upon your solitude, you bury your nose in your book in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from their presence.
“Let’s have some fun.” You turn another page as footsteps echo towards you, stopping in front of your occupance. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
You don’t give him the time of day in reality but in your head, you’re fighting with the embarrassment and attention he’s solely giving you right now. Billy's charisma knows no bounds, his toothy grin and smug demeanor penetrate your defenses with effortless ease.
“I’m Billy but you may already know that. What’s your name, little mouse?” Billy rests his hands face down on your desk, leaning in so his face is parallel with yours.
“Such a quiet thing.” Ignoring his advances proves to be an exercise in futility as Billy's persistent pestering chips away at your resolve, culminating in a daring theft of your cherished book. Yet, you refuse to grant him the satisfaction of a response, maintaining a stoic facade despite the numerous emotions raging beneath the surface.
“It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.” His friend to the right chimes in.
“There’s some ways I can think of to change that.” You look up, narrow eyes meeting Billy’s. He sends you a wink with his usual smirk resting on his face.
“Not going to say anything?” You can feel your heart racing, hating the way he’s making you feel, more annoying that he’s causing any kind of reaction from you.
The sudden arrival of Mr. Thomson offers a reprieve from Billy's relentless pursuit.
“Y/N, you’re free to go.” He grants you an opportunity to escape the confines of Billy's gaze. As you hastily gather your belongings and make your exit, Billy's parting words linger in the air as he whispers close to your ear, “See you around little mouse.”
Feeling like you could breathe again, you're greeted by a note from Robin stuck to your locker.
I got called into work :( Call me later - Robin
You groan inwardly, the frustration of detention compounded by the looming task of finding a new ride home. Billy and his entourage have succeeded in tainting what was already shaping up to be a less-than-ideal day. You trudge outside, seeking solace in the cool breeze that sweeps through the schoolyard.
The pleasant Indiana weather offers a small comfort, prompting you to forgo the immediate need for a ride and opt instead for a beautiful stroll to clear your mind. As you walk, you reach into your bag and retrieve your trusty cassette player, the familiar weight of it grounding you in the midst of chaos running through your mind. You mentally curse Billy for crowding every corner of your mind.
With a deft motion, you slipbthe cassette into the player, the soft click of the mechanism soothing in its familiarity. The strains of your favorite mix fill the air, providing a welcome distraction from the events of the day.
Lost in the music, you barely notice the passing cars, each one a blur against the backdrop of your thoughts. That is, until a certain familiar shade of blue catches your eye, the sudden halt of the vehicle drawing your attention like a magnet.
You turn, locking eyes with Billy as he idles beside you, his presence an unwelcome intrusion on your solitary walk. His voice cuts through the quiet, laced with an air of amusement that irritates your nerves.
“Didn’t think we’d meet again this soon little mouse.” he remarks, his smirk evident even from the confines of his car.
You pause your tape, the rhythmic pulse of the music abruptly silenced as you face him, a mix of irritation and annoyance evident in your expression.
"What do you want, Billy?" you questione, the weariness of the day showing in your voice.
He chuckles, the sound grating on your nerves as he leanes casually against the driver's side door, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.
"She speaks!" he exclaims, his laughter ringing out in the quiet of the street. "Need a ride somewhere?"
You bristle at the suggestion, your resolve hardening as you met his gaze with a steely glare.
"Not from you," you retort, tone firm and uncompromising.
“Oh come on, I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.” You rolle your eyes at his innuendo, a flush rising in your cheeks as you resist the urge to give in to his persistent advances.
"I don’t need your help, Billy.”
He relents, his expression shifting to one of mock innocence as he reaches over to open the passenger door, a silent invitation hanging in the air between you.
"Come on, little mouse," he urges, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Just this one time."
You hesitate, torn between pride and practicality, before ultimately capitulating to the inevitable. You step into the car, the door closing with a soft click behind you as you buckle yourself in.
"No speeding," you warn, your voice firm as Billy complies with a laugh, the car pulling away from the curb at a reasonable pace.
As you settle into the seat, a strange sense of calm washes over you, the tension of the day slowly dissipating in the confines of the car. Despite your reservations, there was an undeniable comfort in Billy's presence, a realization that both puzzles and unnerves you in equal measure.
“So are you going to tell me where you live or am I bringing you back to my house?”
“I live near Curly. By that trailer park.”
“Thought you lived more in the pristine area of the Wheelers and Harringtons.”
“Well you thought wrong.”
As Billy maneuveres through the streets, you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort mixed with a strange intrigue. You steal glances at him, his confident demeanor and reckless charm contrasting sharply with your own cautious nature.
"Why'd you get detention anyway?" Billy's question broke the silence, his eyes briefly leaving the road to meet yours.
"Too many tardies to homeroom," you reply, keeping your answers short.
"That's it? Seems a bit harsh," he remarks, his tone genuinely curious.
You shrug, not wanting to delve into the details of your run-in with authority.
As the familiar landmarks of Hawkins pass by in a blur, you couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead, the uncertainty of the future looming large on the horizon. You couldn’t help but think if this would be the last time Billy would go out of his way to acknowledge you.
Navigating the familiar streets of Hawkins alongside Billy, you're acutely aware of the palpable tension that simmers between you, a potent cocktail of unease but also lingering with intrigue. Though you strive to maintain a facade of indifference, the magnetic pull of Billy's presence proves undeniable, stirring emotions you've long sought to suppress.
You’re thankful the remainder of the drive passes by in a relative quiet, punctuated only by the loud rock n roll blasting from the radio. When you finally reach your destination, you find yourself hesitating before getting out of the car.
"Thanks for the ride," you say, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your voice.
Billy grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Anytime, little mouse."
With that, you step out onto the sidewalk, watching as Billy drives off into the distance. As you make your way towards your house, you couldn't shake the feeling that this chance encounter with Billy Hargrove was just the beginning of something you couldn't quite put your finger on.
Little did you know, the lines between your world and the world of Hawkins' resident bad boy were about to blur in ways you never imagined possible.
The following day, you find yourself once again navigating the familiar halls of Hawkins High, the events of the previous day still fresh in your mind. As you settle into your seat in English class, you can’t seem to shake the lingering sense of unease that accompanies your newfound proximity to Billy Hargrove.
It’s the most infuriating feeling and you hate yourself for allowing him to overtake your waking thoughts all throughout your night and morning.
The classroom buzzes with the usual chatter of students, the mundane rhythm of academic life marching on despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, Ms. Paterson enters the room with her characteristic air of authority, a stack of papers in hand.
"Good morning, class," she greets as she makes her way to the front of the room. "Today, we'll be embarking on a new project that will count towards a significant portion of your grade for this year."
A collective groan echoes through the room at the mention of yet another assignment, but Ms. Paterson pays it no mind.
"As part of this project, you'll be working in pairs to research and present on a book report of your choosing," she announces, her gaze sweeping over the room as she distributed the assignment sheets. "I'll be assigning partners randomly, so I expect everyone to work together cooperatively."
Everyone exchanges a wary glance around the classroom, the prospect of being paired with someone like Billy Hargrove looming ominously in the air. As Ms, Paterson began calling out pairs, you held your breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable.
"Y/N, you'll be paired with... Billy Hargrove.”
You felt a sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach as Billy's name reverberated through the classroom, the weight of his presence suddenly suffocating in its proximity. You glance in his direction, meeting his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and resignation.
Billy, for his part, seemingly unfazed by the news, his trademark smirk firmly in place as he turned to face you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of class, you found yourself hesitating by your desk, unsure of how to broach the subject of the upcoming project with your enigmatic partner.
Billy saunters over to your desk with his characteristic swagger, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
"Well, looks like we're partners, little mouse" he remarks, his tone laced with amusement as he leans against the edge of your desk.
You fight to suppress the urge to roll your eyes at his cavalier attitude, instead meeting his gaze with a steely determination of your own.
"Yeah, looks like it," you reply as you gather your belongings.
Billy's smirk widens at your response, his gaze lingers on you with a mixture of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite decipher.
"So, partner," he begins falling into step beside you as you both maneuver out of the classroom. "Where do you wanna meet up?"
You pause, considering your options carefully before responding. The thought of inviting Billy into your home sent a shiver of apprehension down your spine, but meeting up at his place didn't seem much better.
"How about we meet at the library?" you suggest, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself. "It's neutral ground, and we'll have access to all the resources we need."
Billy raises an eyebrow at your suggestion, his smirk morphing into a grin of approval.
"Works for me," he nonchalantly responds. His tone surprises you at how agreeable it is and non combative about trying to get you into his bedroom.
"4 pm. Don’t be late. I will not be waiting on you." You demand.
“See you then, little mouse.” He winks, walking in the opposite direction. You groan internally at the use of that nickname he’s decided to give you. This is going to be a long year.
As you and Robin sat on the bleachers in the gym during lunchtime, the rhythmic thud of basketballs hitting the court filled the air, punctuated by the occasional cheer from the squad as they practice their routines. Your eyes involuntarily flicker towards the court, where Billy’s shirtless form glistens with sweat under the fluorescent lights of the gym, his green gym shorts leaving little to the imagination as he moves with fluid grace among his teammates.
Robin's incredulous tone breaks through your reverie, snapping you back to reality.
"Wait, you got paired up with Billy for a project?" Robin exclaims, her disbelief palpable as she tore her gaze away from the court to focus on you.
You couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, the absurdity of the situation not lost on either of you.
"Yeah, tell me about it," you respond, taking a bite of your sandwich as you try to mask the unease that churns in your stomach. "I have no idea how I'm going to survive working with him for the rest of the year."
Caught in a moment of distraction, your eyes lock with Billy's across the expanse of the gym. Time comes to a stand still leaving only the two of you in a silent battle of uncertainty. For a fleeting moment, you found yourself captivated by the intensity of his gaze, the depths of his eyes holding a tantalizing promise of something unknown. It was a gaze that spoke volumes, conveying a myriad of emotions that stirs something deep and unexpected within you.
As if sensing the weight of your scrutiny, Billy's lips quirk into a knowing smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief as he holds your gaze with unwavering confidence. Before you could fully process the significance of the moment, the spell breaks as Billy turns his attention back to the game, seamlessly blending into the rhythm of the practice session as if the moment didn’t just happen.
You tear your gaze away, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you focus once more on your conversation with Robin. But despite your best efforts to dismiss the encounter, the feeling of Billy's piercing gaze lingers in the back of your mind, a silent reminder of the unexpected allure of the boy who has unwittingly become a sudden constant in your life now.
Robin offers words of encouragement, her unwavering support a welcome balm to your frazzled nerves.
"Don't worry, Y/N," her voice a beacon of optimism in the darkness. "You're strong enough to handle anything that comes your way. Besides, who knows? Maybe working with Billy will be...interesting."
You couldn't suppress a snort of disbelief at her suggestion, the image of Billy's smug smirk and cocky attitude flashing through your mind.
"Yeah, interesting is one word for it," you remark dryly, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Let's just hope I survive long enough to at least be there for graduation."
The town library stands as a quiet sanctuary amidst the bustling small town streets of Hawkins, its walls lined with rows upon rows of books that hold the promise of knowledge and adventure. As you step through the entrance, the familiar scent of old paper and ink washes over you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you sought out a secluded corner to await Billy's arrival.
Minutes tick by, each second stretching into an annoying eternity as you scan the quiet aisles for any sign of your partner. Just as you begin to resign yourself to the possibility of being stood up, a figure appears in the doorway, his presence commanding attention as he makes his way towards you with purposeful strides.
"Sorry I'm late," Billy greets, his tone apologetic as he approaches, a faint crease of worry marrying his brow. "Had to drop off my step-sister at home."
You nod understandingly, "No worries," offering him a reassuring smile as you gesture towards the table. "Let's get started."
Billy's expression softens at your words, a hint of gratitude shining in his eyes as you don’t try to pry. For a moment, the weight of his troubles seem to lift from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of camaraderie as you delve into the task at hand.
As you and Billy sift through the titles of various books, searching for the perfect one to base your project on, the atmosphere between you remains comfortably casual, the initial awkwardness of your partnership gradually melting away.
"So, any preferences on which book we should choose?" you ask, breaking the silence that has settled over the table.
"Not really," he replies with a casual shrug, his gaze flicking between the book covers with mild interest. "I'm good with whatever you want."
“Do you have a favorite book?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever really finished one before.” Billy admits.
“That’s quite sad to hear. What do you even do for fun?”
“You think this is fun? Holding old pieces of paper about fake people and worlds. Seems like a waste of time to me.”
You raise an eyebrow at Billy's dismissive remark, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of your lips.
"Well, not everyone finds joy in reading, I suppose," you remark lightly, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite the underlying tension between you. "But there's something magical about getting lost in a good book, don't you think?"
Billy shrugs, his expression guarded as he leans back in his chair, his gaze fixes on the bookshelves before him.
"I guess," he replies with a noncommittal shrug, his tone tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "I've just never really seen the appeal, you know?"
You nod in understanding, sensing the reluctance in his voice as he skirts around the topic of his own interests.
"Well, what about movies or music?" you press, eager to draw him out of his shell and uncover the layers of complexity that lie beneath his tough exterior. "Surely there must be something you enjoy doing in your free time."
Billy hesitates for a moment, his features softening slightly as he considers your question.
"I don't know, I guess I like playing basketball," he admits, a faint glimmer of enthusiasm shining in his eyes. "And...uh, sometimes I'll mess around with drawing when I'm bored."
You smile at his admission, a flicker of curiosity igniting within you as you get to witness a glimpse of the person behind the tough facade.
"That's cool," you reply, genuine warmth coloring your voice as you lean in closer, the distance between you suddenly feeling much smaller. "I didn't know you drew. Maybe you could show me some another time?"
"Yeah, maybe," Billy replies, his tone gruff and defensive, a faint edge of defiance creeping back into his voice. "But don't get your hopes up. It’s not that great"
You sense the walls he's built around himself, the layers of protection he's carefully constructed to shield himself from vulnerability. But beneath the tough exterior, you know there’s something raw and real, a flicker of longing that hints at the depth of his hidden desires.
"That's okay," you reassure him with a smile, your voice gentle as you reach out to bridge the gap between you. "We all have to start somewhere, right?"
"Yeah," he murmurs softly, a rare vulnerability creeping into his voice. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
“So, what about you, little mouse? Any other hobbies besides reading old stories?” A spark of enthusiasm ignites within you, quite surprised at his continuing of the conversation.
"Yeah, actually," you begin, a smile spreading across your face as you lean forward, excitement bubbling within you. "I love photography. There's just something about capturing moments and memories with people and things I love that feels so special. I don’t know, I mostly do it for fun."
A mischievous glint sparks in Billy’s eyes as he leans in closer, his voice low and teasing. " I guess I'll have to watch out for those sneaky snapshots next time."
You can't help but roll your eyes at his playful banter, the Billy everyone around Hawkins knows showing back up.
"Please," you retort with a playful scoff, feigning indifference as you brush off his teasing with a wave of your hand. "Like you're worth wasting film on."
Billy chuckles at your response, a grin spreading across his face as he leans back in his chair, his gaze lingering on you with amusement.
"Ouch, that hurts, little mouse," he replies with mock indignation, his tone light and playful despite the underlying tension between you. "But hey, don't worry. I'll make sure to give you my best angle next time."
"Keep dreaming, Hargrove," you retort, a flicker of annoyance flashing in your eyes as you notice Billy building those tough walls back up, leaving you to the same mysteries as the rest of the town.
As the conversation fizzles out, you can't shake the feeling of disappointment lingering in the air. Despite the brief moment of connection, it seems that Billy's walls are too high to breach, leaving you with a sense of frustration at the missed opportunity for genuine connection. You can't help but wonder about the masks he wears so loudly, each one a cacophony of distractions meant to hide the vulnerability beneath. With a resigned sigh, you turn back to the task at hand, burying your disappointment as you focus on finding the perfect book not without stealing another glance at Billy as he picks up one of the books and rifles through the pages.
If these past two days have shown you anything, it’s how little time it takes for a stranger to become a big part of your life. It's unsettling how quickly he's managed to weave himself into the fabric of your daily existence with a persistence that both frustrates and intrigues you. You've always valued your privacy, cherished the solitude of your inner sanctuary, but now, in the wake of Billy's arrival, you find yourself craving his attention in a way you never thought possible.
Perhaps the greatest risk is not in letting someone new in, but in closing yourself off to the possibility of genuine connection. And even with the knowledge of Billy having a tangled labyrinth for a heart, perhaps he’s worth the risk after all.
Taglist: @msbillyhargrove @uselessbutinteresting @milestellergfs @periwinkle-quill @ghostcastaway
#billy hargrove stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagines#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove masterlist#billy hargrove#billy hargrove smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#billy hargrove x female reader#Spotify
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Teacher
Pairing : Dad!Billy Hargrove x Mom!Fem!Reader
Summary : Billy finally taps back into his lifeguard roots to teach his daughter how to swim.
Picture and Gif from Pinterest!
Warnings : Swearing, talks about more kids, mentions of baby making at the end (not detailed, just mentioned)
Word count : 1,904
June 8, 1990
Hannah waltzed into the master bedroom where you cuddled with Billy and your one year old son, William. "Daddy," she asked, trying to grab Billy's attention. He hummed before looking at her, putting his hand out to pull her into the bed.
She happily took his hand as he helped her into the bed and she laid her head on his chest and he smoothed her hair down so it would stop tickling his face. "What'd you need, babe?" She looked up at him as William reached for her hand as he held two of her fingers. "I wanna swim." He raised a brow, "You don't know how." You watched their interaction as you patted William's back, trying to get him to fall asleep.
It didn't take long for Billy to agree to teach Hannah how to swim. For years he would always hold her in the pool, unsure of when to teach her how to swim even though he used to occasionally teach toddlers at the community pool. "Go get your bathing suit on," he told her, helping her off of the bed. She padded out of the bedroom, going to hers at the end of the hallway.
He looked down at baby William as he smiled, his finger tracing down his forehead to the button of his nose. "Do you want me to teach him too?" You nodded, "Just not today, I need him to take a nap." Billy snickered and nodded as he pulled William onto his chest. "You have to take a nap, big guy." William just babbled, grabbed a handful of Billy's necklace and he gently yanked it.
Billy carefully pried William's fingers off of the silver chain, kissing his tiny hand. He placed William back in your lap before he pecked your lips as he got up and looked through the dresser for his red swim trunks as he went into the closet to get ready before he walked out in the trunks and no shirt. He was still toned from his mechanic job but had lost the abs he had in high school, his stomach now a little soft but still toned and fit.
He took off his necklace, placing it on the bedside table as he took off his wedding ring and placed it beside it. "You two should come out there, maybe if he swims a little it'll knock him out." You thought about it before nodding and he snatched William, wiggling him a little as he went to the nursery to change him into a swimming diaper. You got yourself dressed in a one piece as you grabbed towels and the arm floaties.
Hannah ran into the room, ready to swim. "Dad's getting William ready and then we'll go outside." She nodded and you began putting sunscreen on her before Billy came back with William on his hip and you put sunscreen on him too. William giggled at the coldness of the cream, his belly moving with each laugh as his chunky legs kicked out.
Billy waited until you were done before leading everyone out of the bedroom. He walked outside first, giving William to you. Your son had a tendency to run when his feet hit the ground and the last thing you two needed was for him to fall into the pool. Billy skimmed the pool as you sat on a pool chair, your sunglasses hiding the way you looked at your husband.
Billy checked the temperature of the water before he got in, his face scrunching up at the shock of cold. "There went the future Hargrove babies." You rolled your eyes, "Billy, shut up." He mocked you, splashing water at you as it hit your legs. He helped Hannah into the water as she held his hands.
William began to babble and coo angrily, wanting into the pool. Billy looked over, snickering at the face his son was making. You looked down, keeping your own laughter in as you saw the baby version of Billy sitting in your lap. "Let's get in the pool, bubba," you said, holding him with one hand as you blew up his floated and slid them onto him, holding him on your hip as you got into the pool.
He put his arms out, splashing with his hands as he hit the water. You moved away from Billy and Hannah, watching how gentle he was with her, not rushing her to get under the water. "Look babe, just plug your nose with your index and thumb so no water gets in it and you can close your eyes so the water won't get in them."
She looked a little wary, but she also knew her father wouldn't do anything to harm her. She nodded and took a deep breath before plugging her nose as she lowered into the water, his hair floating upwards before she surfaced, wiping her eyes harshly as she unplugged her nose, gasping a little.
"Easy, easy. You're okay. Did you swallow any water?" She shook her head, and Billy wiped her eyes as she opened them. "See you did it, I'll get you some goggles soon that'll cover your eyes and nose so you can use both hands to swim." She nodded and he began showing her how to float before he helped her onto her back as he held her.
"Don't panic, okay? The water's gonna go on your face but it won't go in your eyes or nose." She nodded, keeping her body still and he laughed softly, "H, breathe baby. You don't have to hold your breath." She nodded and began to breathe. "Relax, if you're tense you can't float." She nodded again, putting her arms out as she began to relax.
William began to move his arms around beside you and you held his sides, putting him in front of you as he began to stir up the water, giggling as his eyes scrunched up. Billy slowly let go of Hannah and her eyes shot open as she began to panic and he quickly grabbed her.
"You're okay, H. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. You weren't gonna sink." She looked up and nodded, "Okay, again?" He nodded and helped her again as she took a deep breath and shut her eyes. He watched her before sliding his arms out from under her back as she floated on the water as it rippled from William constantly splashing at it.
Billy looked back at William, laughing, "You're just a menace, huh?" William laughed, throwing his head back against you, nearly bumping your nose with his head. Billy helped Hannah get back onto the floor of the pool. "Now we're gonna do it on your belly, okay?" She nodded and he helped her onto her stomach as he held her, "Just like on your back but tilt your head up." She nodded and tilted her head up as she relaxed and slowly let her go as she floated, moving away just a little.
"See, easy," he said as he helped her stand back up. He moved onto his stomach, "Now move your arms like this," he said as he moved his hands like he was parting the water. She nodded and he helped her onto her stomach again as she moved her hands, moving a little bit, "And kick your legs just a little, not enough to hurt but so you can keep moving." She began kicking her legs, water coming up and splashing him in the face.
You laughed at the face he made as his face and hair got wet. William began to get grumpy again, wanting Billy to hold him and she patted his back, "Not right now William, he's busy." William huffed, leaning into you as he rested his head on your shoulder. You patted his back, trying to make him tired. It didn't take long before Hannah decided she was done, the exercise making her tired.
William's breathing was heavy as he was curled up on your chest as he slept. Billy looked over, "Finally asleep?" You nodded and the four of you got out of the pool. Hannah dried herself off and Billy put a towel around his waist as he pushed his hair back. "You're a good dad, you know that?" He smiled, his hands going to your waist, being cautious of William's legs as he ducked down and pecked your lips a few times.
"Ewwww." You both moved apart, seeing Hannah standing on the patio and Billy snickered, "Cock block," he murmured. You laughed and shook your head as you walked inside as some water dripped off of you. You should've known better to go ahead of Billy as his hand made contact with your ass. "Really?" He laughed behind you, "Can't help it." You rolled your eyes as you shook your head and you all walked inside.
Billy took William to the nursery to get him into a regular diaper and a onesie as you helped Hannah rinse off as you washed her hair and she put her own pajamas on, stating that she also wanted a nap. You tucked her into her bed after her hair was completely dry before you left her room as Billy walked out of the nursery and he looked at you, his eyes hungry.
He walked to you, steering you into the bedroom as you laughed. "I need a shower," he said. You hummed, "I guess I could go for a shower." He nodded, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he walked into the bathroom, starting the shower. You followed him with your arms full of your clothes and his boxers and shorts. "Do you ever think about having more kids?" You looked at him, brow raised, "We have two and we're only twenty-three. We had H when we were eighteen." He shrugged, "I know," he said as he turned around so the water could get warm as he held your hips.
"William and Hannah have a pretty big age gap." You nodded, the two of them had a four year gap which made it easy to care for William while Hannah was at school. "I'd like to have more," you said, "I just think we should wait until he's two." He nodded, "We could have ten for all I care." You laughed, "I am not pushing out ten big headed babies from my vagina." He laughed as he held onto you.
"Our babies did not have big heads." You scoffed, "They had your fat head." He mocked you, "I do not have a fat head," he exclaimed. You scoffed again and grabbed his skull, "Fat head." He rolled his eyes, "Shut up about my fat head." You laughed before grabbing his cheeks to kiss him and he succumbed easily as he kissed you, pressing you against the bathroom counter. "My cut off is four or five," you said against his lips.
He hummed as he pulled away, "Maybe we can get lucky on triplets." You groaned, "I'd rather not." He laughed as he helped you out of the one piece, kissing your shoulder before he thumbed over the tattoo on your side with the kids' names. He had a similar tattoo on his chest except your name was with theirs. He guided you into the shower as the two of you worked on making the third Hargrove baby.
@missingbillyhargrove Tagging you just in case you'd want to read this 💙
#dad!billy hargrove#billy hargrove#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove x female reader#billy stranger things#stranger things billy#william hargrove#billy hargrove x f!reader#stranger things fanfiction#billy hargove imagine#mom!reader#hargrove family
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Hellfirecvnt Masterlist
List Started: 5/12/24
Last updated: 11/11/24
Total Works: 26
Fandoms: Stranger Things, Vice Principals, The Righteous Gemstones, Fallout, Dinner in America, The Passenger (TBA)
Stranger Things- (I no longer write for ST.)
Eddie Munson:
Y'know I Knew a Guy Like You. (Eddie x Y/N, but Y/N talks like Theo Von) A silly adventure. No smut.
"Your Sister is Hot." (Eddie x Fem!Harrington!Reader) You're Steve's hot sister and Eddie is down bad. Yes smut.
...Yet (Eddie x Fem!Reader) A pool hangout feat. the whole gang turns steamy after a few shots and a game of Two Truths, One Lie. Yes smut.
Second First Time (Eddie x Fem!Reader) You lost your virginity to a guy who couldn't make you cum. Eddie can fic that. Yes smut.
She's Got a Boyfriend, Anyway. (Eddie x Fem!Reader) Your friendship dynamic changes when you start dating Billy Hargrove. Yes smut.
Let Me See You (Sub!Eddie x Fem!Reader) Eddie's got a kink you didn't know about. Yes smut.
Finish What You Started (Perv!Eddie x Fem!Reader) A night of truth or dare awakens a need in Eddie that his pervy little heart will do anything to satiate. Yes smut.
Where Have You Been All My Life? (Dom!Eddie x Fem!Henderson!Reader) You're Dustin's beloved big sister who happens to be a perfect parallel of his friend, Eddie. Yes smut.
You're Mine (Eddie x Fem!Reader) Eddie goes with you to get a tattoo. He's horny. Yes smut.
Claimed (Eddie x Fem!Reader) You're new at Hawkins and Eddie has already made his claim, you just don't know it yet. Yes smut.
Innocence Lost (Eddie x Fem!Reader) Corruption kink type beat. Yes smut.
Innocence Lost Pt. 2 (Eddie x Fem!Reader) Part 2 of 2. Yes smut.
Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson:
Interruption (Steve x Fem!Reader x Eddie) Eddie barges in on your time with Steve. Yes smut.
People Pleaser (Steve x Fem!Reader x Eddie) Eddie likes to see how far you'll go for him. Yes smut.
Billy Hargrove:
It's Personal (Billy x Fem!Reader) Billy's been an ongoing bully/ nuisance in your life since you met. He's acting a little different after finding out you've been hurt. No smut. (Part 2 coming soon)
Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson:
What are You Thinking Drinking About? (Billy, Steve, Eddie x Fem!Reader) You and your friends hang out pretty regularly. You've known each other for a long time and have a lot of history since meeting in high school. Some of the group can't make it to the hang out one night, and there's a weird tension between you and the ones who do show up. Yes smut.
Vice Principals-
Lee Russell:
•••Series 1:
First Trip (Lee x Fem!Reader) (Pt. 1) You're the new secretary at NJH. You've caught Lee's eye, but disaster strikes before anything can be done about it. No smut.
The Foundation of Learning (Lee x Fem!Reader) (Pt. 2) A dream changes things and Lee plots Belinda's downfall by framing a teacher. No smut.
Teacher Work Day (Lee x Fem!Reader) (Pt. 3) "Is that bitch pissing on that cop car?" No smut.
Preoccupied (Lee x Fem!Reader) (Pt. 4) A plan is hatching, sure. You and Lee can't stay focused. What are you two thinking about? Yes smut.
Light my Fire (Lee x Fem!Reader) (Pt. 5) Your plan goes awry. Tensions are high. What's everyone gonna do about it? Ooh. Yes smut.
•••••
•••Series 2:
Subordinate (Lee x Fem!Reader) (Pt. 1) North Jackson High has a new principal and your coworkers are not coping well. XOXO. No smut.
The Righteous Gemstones-
Baby Billy Freeman:
Hallelujah, What a Payday (Baby Billy x Fem!Reader) Baby Billy's on the search for his next co-star. Yes smut.
Fallout-
Prewar Cooper Howard:
Hard to Get (Cooper x Fem!Reader) It's been a new experience being cast in the lead of the latest Hollywood movie. What's even more nerve-wracking is your far-more-famous-than-you co-star. After you can't seem to sell the chemistry between you to the director, you're pushed to spend more quality time with your cohort. Yes smut.
Dinner in America-
John Q. / Simon:
Don't Piss Me Off (Simon X Fem!Reader) (Pt. 1) You're back in your hometown for a few weeks to house sit for your parents. A rivalry dating back to your high school years makes an appearance, but this time, he's met his match. No smut.
Don't Piss me Off (Simon X Fem!Reader) (Pt. 2) You still can't stand sticking around your parents for too long, but you stay in town for a while longer just to see him play. Yes smut.
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can you do a fic where Billy gets jealous and argues with his girlfriend but she knows he’s just scared she’ll leave bcoz his dad always tells him it’s his fault his mom left so she doesn’t let him push her away? he deserves someone who’ll stay :’(
POSSESSION - BILLY HARGROVE X READER
word count: 1467 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)
Sometimes, Billy Hargrove has two voices. One is his own, slightly brash, but deep and warm to your ears. The second is more grating, rough and venomous; his father’s. Sometimes Neil Hargrove possesses his son, makes him say things he doesn’t really think, things he doesn’t really mean. And Billy doesn’t get himself back until it’s too late, until the words are out there, sucking the love out of your body from the deep wounds they administered.
From the beginning, you knew he had two voices. One would offer you a ride to the nearby diner after school, and laugh with you over milkshakes, sweet and sugary. And the other would scoff when you asked to braid his hair, ‘I’m not a girl,’.
You knew he was at war with himself. He acted so differently, so conflictingly after a day at school than he did when he drove to your house for a date night, that you were almost certain the issue was with his home environment. In a rare moment of inner peace, he’d told you about his father, and everything clicked into place.
Since then, you’ve been fighting with Neil. Not the physical man that made your boy’s life a living hell, but the one inside his head, the one that tells him he can’t reach for your hand in public, the one who says it’s pussy shit to hold his girlfriend’s pink purse for her.
You’re fighting with him now, or at least, you’re planning to. Billy’s mouth is moving but Neil’s voice is coming out, telling you to get out and go home.
“No, Neil.” You tighten your jaw, standing firm by the bed, “I’m not leaving.”
“The fuck did you call me?” Billy’s eyes go dark, lip curling in a sneer.
“I’m not talking to you,” You inform him, “I’m talking to him. He’s in your head, Billy. I know you don’t want me to leave.”
“Yes I do,” He seethes, “You- You’re being unreasonable!”
“No, I’m not.” You shake your head, sitting on the edge of his bed and watching as he stands by the door like a caged animal, “I’m telling you that I’m allowed to meet with my science partner in the library after class to work on our project, and that nothing romantic will happen between us.”
“You’re going to a dimly-lit, secluded place with another man after school hours! You could just do it in class, or work in the park, with people around.”
“The teacher isn’t giving us class time, and we need it to be quiet or else we won’t be able to focus. The library is the perfect place.”
“Yeah,” Billy scoffs, sounding just as intimidating as his father, “I bet he said that, too. Perfect place to make a move.”
“If he makes a move, I’ll leave.” You reason, watching Billy roll his eyes. He turns for the door, presumably to usher you out or storm off for a smoke break, “Because I leave when I’m upset or uncomfortable. Which is why I’m still here, Billy,” You call out to your boy, desperately hoping he can wrestle his father away and take the wheel, “Because I’m not upset with you for something that your father did to you. I know it’s him, telling you that everyone you love will leave you. But I’m not going to, because I know you don’t want me to. You want me to stay, and I will, Billy. I’ll stay.”
His hand goes slack against the doorknob where it’s half-turned, and he freezes. He turns, only his head, to glance back at you where you’re sitting on the bed, eyes scared and defeated, coated in a layer of tears, “You’ll stay?”
You know he means it double. He wants to know that you’ll stay on his bed, you won’t storm out and tell him never to call you again. But he also wants to know you won’t up and leave for the boy from your science class, that if given the chance, even after you’ve seen the worst of him, you won’t have anyone else.
“I’ll stay,” You repeat, nodding and holding a hand out for him.
He hesitates to take it. You know Neil is fighting, kicking and shouting and hitting and punching. Name-calling, pansy, pussy, good-for-nothing, disappointment. But your boy wins out, hands on the wheel once more, voice restored in his throat, albeit a bit shaky.
“I’m sorry,” He croaks, shuffling over the carpet in his heavy boots to approach you, “I shouldn’t have said all that shit.”
He takes a deep breath before he holds your hand, and you reward him for doing it with a soft brush of your thumb over his skin. You pull, leading him to sit beside you on the bed. He blinks back tears, rapidly so, but they win in the end, and one slips from his eye.
“Fuck,” He hisses, rushing to smear his sleeve against his eye, “I- I don’t know why I was angry at you.”
“It’s because he wants you to be, Billy.” You murmur, rubbing a soft hand over his back, “He wants you to think that you’re some chronic fuck-up. He wants you to think everyone is going to leave you, because he won’t, and then you’ll think he’s good for it. But he’s not good for treating you like this, Billy, for doing this to you. He stays because he has power over you, but I stay because I love you. You know that, right? That I love you?”
“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding where his head is buried in his hands, “I know. And I.. love you, too.”
That’s big for Billy. He’s a show-not-tell kinda guy, because telling hasn’t seemed to matter in the past. He told his mom a thousand times, but she’s not here now, is she? So he shows you, and you know it. He just doesn’t always tell you, and that’s how you know you’ve gotten through to him.
“Let me see your face,” You plead, slipping your hand out of his own to take his cheek, “Please?”
He lets you turn his head, but he can’t look you in the eyes with tears on his face.
You lean in, and when your lips approach his eyes, he shuts them. You press your lips soft, light as a feather, to his eyelids, his wet lashes leaving stains on your skin. There’s a glistening tear beneath his right eye, and you kiss it away for good measure.
When he opens his eyes again, he’s looking at you. He looks at his tears shining on your lips, reaches out to wipe the liquid away, and lets his hand linger on your face.
“I’m sorry I ruined our night.” He repeats, “This was supposed to be nice.”
“It’s okay. It can still be nice, it’s not ruined. Arguing doesn’t ruin things,” You promise Billy, “You apologized, and I know you’re sorry, and I forgive you. So I still want to have a nice night with you.”
He doesn’t have anything to say, not with words, but he nods, bumping his nose against your cheek. It means he wants to have a nice night with you, too.
“What do you wanna do, Billy?” You ask, smiling and chasing his nose with your cheek when he tries pulling away. It means that you’re leaned against him now, and he dares to drop a kiss to the pudge of your cheek.
“Would you, uh..” He hesitates, but powers through, condemning his dad to silence, “Would you read to me?”
You nod, “What book, handsome?”
“Any- I don’t care,” He shakes his head, letting you stand and cross to his very minimal bookshelf, mostly books he’s had to read for school, “I just wanna hear your voice.”
When you settle back in bed it’s with The Crucible, a book that you’re currently reading in English, and that he’s definitely behind on. You sit first, backed up against the wall and slouched slightly, and he lays on his stomach, his head resting on your stomach. His hands wind around your thighs and lock him in place, and his eyes are drifting shut before you’ve even cracked the cover.
Before you can start, he squeezes your thighs, “Y/N?”
“Yeah?” You hum, brushing a hand through his hair to get a stray curl out of his face.
“Thank you. For staying,” He clarifies, speaking into your stomach because he doesn’t know if he can look you in the eye, “And forgiving me.”
“I love you, Billy.” You hope he realizes that that’s your answer, that’s why you stayed, that’s why you forgave him, and you feel him smile into the skin of your stomach through your shirt. You think he got your message, “I’ll always stay.”
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove blurb#billy hargrove drabble#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x reader fanfiction#billy hargrove fluff
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Hi love your work can u do a billy hargrove bully smut with innocent reader please. Hope ur well xxx
Hey, I’m sorry that I’m 2 weeks late. I’ll have to be better at post within the week when I get a request. This is the best I could do at 2am so if this isn’t good enough, please contact me what you guys specifically want. Thank you for the support and request. I love you guys!! Bully Billy and Inncoect reader is something I love writing and reading about and now I can finally post :))
As always, instead of y/n I’ll be using Scotlynn who is one of the owners of this Tumblr account.
word count: 4.3k
Bully!Billy Hargrove x innocent!reader
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SCOTLYNS POV
Today's another day. Another day of hell. Another day of being bullied and another day of having to interact with Billy. The bullying has gotten so bad that I've begged my principal to change my classes. Of course, he denied me.
I'm currently walking through the doors to my first class, hoping like any other day that Billy would be sick and not be in class today but that's not going to happen. It never does. He's already smirking at me from his seat that's right next to mine.
"Fuck," I cussed under my breath as I held my books close to my chest and walked through the group of jocks that are standing in my way like usual. I swear they do this on purpose to get under my skin.
"Wassup Scotlyn," Max, my ex said as I stood in front of him and his friends. "Could you guys please move for the thousandth time?" I annoyingly asked. "Yeah, of course, sweety," he said like he use to say when we were dating.
I rolled my eyes and walked through the group, about to sit down at my desk until I felt big hands grab one of my ass cheeks, causing me to yelp as I turned around, swatting at his arm.
"Max!" I yelled at him, feeling embarrassed and violated. I have my mini skirt on today so he basically gripped my bare ass, allowing people who looked to see my bare ass cheek. He's sick.
"What baby? I'm just having a little fun. You know, just like old times," Max said as he pulled me into him by my waist. I tried pushing him off of me but at the same time, I didn't want to hurt him.
"Don't fight me, baby," he whispered in my ear. I begged him to stop making a full of me until someone pulled him off and punched him directly in his face. Billy. Billy Hargrove.
"You annoy me. Go sit down," Billy looked down at Max before going back to his seat to sit down. Everyone in the class looked at me like I knew what that was about. I can't seem to know myself. Why would he defend me?
I slowly sat down at my desk and got situated for class. "Got my work, Mrs perfect?" Billy asked. I softly sighed as I opened my notebook and pulled out his paper. "Yes," I said before giving it to him.
"What's with the attitude? I just helped you out," Billy said as he slightly turned towards me. "I didn't ask for it," I said, hoping he'd just get the clue that I don't want to talk to him. I never do.
"I don't know where that bitchy attitude came from but you better fucking drop it," Billy said, sounding angry already. "Whatever," I said under my breath and quickly regretted it.
Billy had gotten up and grabbed my wrist. He pulled me out of my seat and out of the class as the students watched. The class doesn't start for maybe 10 minutes and the teacher is always late.
"Billy, hey! Billy! Billy, what the fuck!" I said as he basically dragged me down the halls. "Billy, let me go! Stop it!" I yelled at him. That's when he stopped, grabbed my neck, and pushed me into the lockers.
"Shut it! Shut your fucking mouth!" Billy pushed me into the lockers a few times until I finally shit my mouth. "Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? You have balls now?" Billy asked, waiting for me to answer.
"It won't go well for you if you're trying to stand up to me. I'll fucking ruin you, do you understand?" Billy asked as he choked my neck harder, causing some tears to build up in my eyes.
"Use your words, princess. You don't wanna make me mad, right?" He asked. I shook my head. "Words!" He yelled in my face. "No!" I cried out as he chuckled with a smirk.
"Good girl. Do you know how cute you are when you're obedient? Maybe if you lost that potty mouth of yours, I'd treat you better. Want me to treat you better?" Billy asked as he leaned into my face.
"Want me to stop bullying you? Stop me from making a full of yourself so you can walk around school all happy?" He asked, now inches away from my ear.
"Maybe I'll do that, but only if you act right, baby," he whispered before pulling back so that he was inches away from my face now. "You gonna act right for me, baby?" He asked, completely catching me off guard.
I was so focused on the way he was talking to me and what he was saying that I didn't even notice him pressing up against me. I can even feel him through his pants.
"Yes," I said, feeling like I was in a trance. Billy chuckled as he backed up. Fuck. I can't believe I just put myself in that stupid situation. He's definitely going to use that against me for the rest of my school life.
"You're confused, aren't you?" Billy asked. I nodded my head, yes, instead of seeing his face change. "Y-Yes," I responded how he likes it. God, what's wrong with me?
"Come here," he said, but I stayed frozen. "Now!" He growled slightly. I quickly pushed off of the lockers and walked towards me, stopping right in front of his face.
I was confused, thinking he'd make fun of me, tell me to do his work, or maybe push me around but to my surprise, he grabbed my face softly with both of his hands and started kissing me.
I quickly melted into the kiss, taking in this moment that probably won't ever happen again. Billy slowly moved one hand down my body until he harshly but softly gripped my ass cheek that Max grabbed earlier.
"All mine," Billy said in between the kiss. I whined at how sensitive my body was getting from his touch. From Billy Hargrove's touch. I never thought of anything like this with him but I can't seem to not want it.
Billy slowly pulled away, causing me to whine and try to pull him into me to get more but he "Ah uh," me ask he slowly pushed me back. I whined, angry that his lips weren't on me, only making him chuckle.
"You were bad to me within 2 minutes. You don't get what you want right now," Billy said as he looked down at my lips before looking into my eyes.
"Your lips are calling me though," he said, making me feel butterflies. "Ever kissed anyone as you kissed me, baby?" He asked. "I- No. Yes, but like, no," I stuttered, making a full of myself.
"What's his name?" Billy asked. His face changed faster than he could blink. "I-I don't think u should say. He's kind uh- He was kind of in a relationship," I stuttered.
"So you're a slut? A home wrecker?" He asked as he shook his head like he was disgusted. "No! No, he just pushed me into a bathroom and tried making out with me. I stopped him though," I said.
"Hmm. He'll pay for that. Anyone else sweetheart?" He asked. I stayed silent, not wanting to tell him their names because now I know he'll probably beat Jason for kissing me without my consent.
"Tell me and don't lie because if I find out, I'll ruin you," Billy said, inches away from my face, once again. "I-I can't say, Billy. I don't want to," I said, scared to tell him that.
My heart grew faster with every second of silence. He's just staring at me. I feel like I'm shrinking and he's getting bigger. He's already so much taller than me.
"Get to class," Billy demanded in a voice so different from this whole conversation. He switched up so fast. I quickly sprinted back to class, not wanting to stay in his face and make him rethink letting me leave.
"What!? No, please. You know me and he do not get along," I begged the teacher as he assigned people to work together every weekend on our projects that were due by the end of the year which is months away.
"And that's why you guys will be perfect partners. This assignment is about getting along and having fun during your senior year. You guys will do great," he said then went back to assigning other people.
"Fuck," I said under my breath as I placed my face into my hands. "What's up with you?" Billy asked. I can hear the smirk on his handsome devilish face. I hate him.
"Don't. Please, not right now," I said, keeping my face in my hands. "Why not?" He asked as he moved his chair closer to me. "Billy, please," I said under my breath to keep myself calm.
"Come on. Don't have this bitchy attitude when I'm over tonight," Billy said, making me pop my head up and look up at him. "You're not coming over to my house, Billy. We're not going this," I said.
"Oh yes, we are. Your parents aren't even home tonight so why are you scared?" Billy asked. "What the- How the fuck do you know my parents aren't home tonight?" I asked him, confused and a bit worried.
"Heard you talking to your little girlfriends in the hallway," he said. "Why are you staking me, man," I said. "Stalking? That's funny," he said as he relaxed in his chair which is still close to me.
"What time are you coming?" I asked in the saddest way I could possibly ask. "I'll be there when I'll be there. You just focus on getting into something cute for me," he said with a chuckle.
"Not gonna happen," I said as I rolled my eyes. "Oh really?" He asked as he turned his whole body forward to me and leaned in my face. "Can you back the fuck-" I tried saying but he cut me off by gripping my wrist.
"Don't start that attitude shit with me. Don't cuss at me and don't you fucking roll your eyes at me again. Yeah, I saw it. Watch yourself," Billy seemed angry but of course, I couldn't care less. He shouldn't put his hands on me like he does.
"Billy, let me go," I said as I liked him in his eyes to seem intimidating but I'm not. Not one bit and he definitely knows that. I hate that he knows that because he knows how far he can get with me.
"You didn't want me letting your pretty little face go when my tongue was down your throat," Billy smirked. "Oh my god, Billy," I went to pull away but he didn't let go.
"You know, maybe you're acting like this because you're scared. You a virgin, baby?" Billy asked, causing my heart to skip a beat. He can't know that. He'll definitely make fun of me for it.
"No," I took a while to reply back. "You sure, princess?" He asked as his free hand tracked up my mini skirt. I stood still because that's what a non-virgin would do right? They'd let whatever happen like it's normal right?
"Yes, I'm sure so can you stop fucking touching me you perv," I said and not even a second later, his hand around my wrist was around my neck. How are people not seeing this? How is the teacher not looking up from his computer right now?
"Don't you ever call me a fucking perv, do you understand me?" He asked but I didn't respond. I tried unwrapping his fingers but he was too strong. How is he this strong?
"Do you!?" He growled in my face. "Y-Yes," I stuttered, scared that he'd snap my neck if I didn't reply. "You really think I'm a perv? Me kissing you wasn't pervy, but you know what would be?" He asked me with a slight chuckle like he loved the idea in his head.
"If I'd cum in your pretty little spare panties you have in your locker so you'd walk around with a gift. Now that would be pervy," he said, inches away from my face. How does he know I have spare panties in my locker? Those are for the gym.
"But you'd like that, right? Since you're not a virgin and all," he sarcastically said. Fuck, he definitely knows I'm a virgin. "Billy, please let me go," I said low, not wanting to talk to him anymore. Billy looked into my eyes for a while longer with a slight smile on his face before letting me go and paying his attention to whatever video was playing for the class that no one is paying attention to.
SKIP LATER THAT NIGHT
It's currently 10 pm and I'm in my room, watching a movie and happy that Billy didn't show up today. He probably went to the party that his friends planned to have today and I was praying for him to go to.
After what helped in class and in the hallways today, I don't think I can be with him alone. I've never let a boy get this close to me like I let Billy do.
Kissing me with my full consent, letting him touch me close to my core. Not call him out for looking into my locker at my panties. Letting him grab my neck, wrist it waist.
For some reason, when he does it, I don't feel as uncomfortable as I think I'd be. With anyone else, I'd scream or punch them but Billy... When I push him away, I'm not even using much energy.
*doorbell rings*
I jumped at the sound of my doorbell going off which rarely happens. I don't have many friends and usually, they text me if they plan on coming over to my house.
I slowly got up, praying to God that this isn't Billy. It's too late for this. I walked downstairs as my heart began to beat faster than before. Apart from me doesn't want him to hear but a big part of me is slightly happy he is.
"Who is it!?" I shouted only to get someone chuckling back. Fuck. It is him. I sighed as I slowly u locked my door and then opened it. "You lock your doors, good. At least I know you're smart and responsible," he said before passing me.
Billy kicked off his shoes and neatly placed them next to my door where the shoes are supposed to go. He then took his Jean jacket off and hung it on the coat hanger.
"What are you doing here Billy?" I asked, knowing why he was there. "To study. Let's go," he said as he made his way upstairs. "Billy it's late! And I was planning on studying down here," I said as I followed him.
"We'll that's too bad. I'm not a stranger so you can take me into your room. Unless mommy and daddy don't allow boys in your princess room," he said in his annoying baby voice to mock me.
"You're so annoying," I said under my breath as I passed him to go to my room after he stopped because he has no idea where my room was. "You accept quickly. I'll keep that in mind," he said as he followed me into my room.
"Your room is nice," Billy complemented which was totally unexpected. "Uh, thank you," I said with an awkward smile. "Not girly but I wasn't really expecting that from you. You're pretty different," he said.
"It's not a bad thing though! Just saying," he made sure to add. "So where do you want me to sit?" He asked. "We can sit on my bed. The books are there anyways since I was studying a while ago," I said as I turned my TV down a little.
"It's getting boring. Let's play truth or truth," Billy said as he closed his book before taking me and closing it. "Billy! You can't just stop in the middle of studying," I said. "Says who?" He asked before reaching into the bag he brought with him.
"Uh, what is that?" I asked as he pulled out a big unopened bottle. "Ah come on. Don't tell me you're a virgin to everything," he said. "What!? I'm- I'm not a virgin," I said.
"Yeah, sure. Anyways, the game goes like this. We ask each other questions and if you can't answer, you drink and if you can't drink anymore, the person gets to do whatever which is anything," he explained.
"Anything?" I asked. "Yeah. Like take your glasses, take your hat, take your sock, or whatever," he suggested some ideas which don't seem too honest to me. "O-Oh, okay," I said as I got comfortable on my bed.
"You start, princess. Give me what you got," he said. "Oh uh, have you ever snuck out?" I asked. "Yeah," he replied. "Have you?" He asked back. "No, I would never," I said.
"Yo innocent huh?" He asked. "Yeah, I guess," I said in a low tone. "Uh, have you ever snuck anyone into your house?" I asked. "Nah, not yet," he said with an unnecessary smirk. He's up to something.
"Are you a virgin?" He asked, causing my heart to begin beating fast. "I don't want to answer that, Billy and you-" I tried saying. "Then drink," he cut me off.
"But I've never-" I tried saying once again. "Drink," he said in a slightly aggressive tone. I stayed still, hoping he'd just let this go but he didn't. He handed me the bottle.
I sighed as I took it out of his hand slowly, not wanting to drink because I'd never done it before. What if it doesn't taste good and I throw up everywhere?
"Billy," I said, scared to do this. "It's not bad. I promise," he said, waiting for me to try. I took a deep breath as I placed the bottle up to my mouth before tilting my head back to get a small taste but I ended up getting a lot.
I spit some of it out and began to cough as I gave him back the bottle. "Guess I get to do whatever," he said as he closed his bottle and placed it on the side before slightly pushing me down on my back.
"What- What are you doing?" I said as he tugged at my night shorts. "Wait, Billy! Billy, stop, I don't have underwear on. Y-You can take my shirt, at least I have my bra on," I said but he ignored me and forced my shorts down I tried fighting to pull them up but he was too strong.
"I'm not taking your clothing, Scotlyn," Billy said in a tone like I was dumb. Like I wasn't getting something. "T-Then what are you taking?" I asked as he fondled his belt.
"Just stay still and let me do this without you pissing me off," he said as he pulled himself out. "What!? No, Billy! Billy, get off of me," I started pushing at his stomach after he came up closer to me.
"Scotlyn! Scotlyn!" Billy yelled my name louder the second time as he grabbed my wrist and placed them over my head. "Just let me put the tip in and then this will be over, okay? I can do whatever, remember? Remember we agreed to that?" He asked.
I nodded my head as I looked into his eyes with my scared eyes. He can't tell I'm scared. That's why he switched his tone up a little bit to not scare me even more.
"Good girl. I want you to relax and let me in just a little. Just the tip, okay princes?" He asked. I slowly nodded my head as my heart slowed down at how softly he was talking to me.
"That's a good girl," at first I didn't notice he was pushing at my entrance until a little bit of his tip slipped into me. "B-Billy," I stuttered at the unfamiliar filling.
"Shh shh, calm down. I got you. Let me prepare you, okay?" He asked before spitting on his fingers. He's okay rubbed his spit around my entrance, causing me to whine at the area he was touching me.
"Ssh baby, I know. I know it's a different feeling but I'll make you feel fucking awesome," Billy said before pushing the rest of his tip into me. I covered my mouth, hoping I wouldn't let out too much but he seemed to like it. He's looking me in my eyes with a smile.
"You look so beautiful, baby," Billy said as he leaned into me. I wanted his kiss so bad but cried out at the feeling of him pushing his whole length into me. "Billy!" I cried before he placed his lips over mine.
"Ssh Ssh," he said onto my lips as he slowly began to thrust his hips. "Billy billy billy!" I repeated because of the unfamiliar foreign feeling of being stretched out and wet. I've been wet down there before but not this wet. It feels different. It feels good.
"Scotlyn, calm down. You'll be fine," Billy said as he leaned up and grabbed my waist to get a hold to fuck into me a little faster since I was stretched out enough for him. I kept whining and begging him to slow it down but he ignored me. I don't really want him to stop anyways.
"Billy, fuck! Please, slow down, I can't. I can't take it," I cried out as I leaned my head back and slapped at his chest a few times. "P-Please," I whined loudly as this feeling began to fill my stomach.
"God, you're so fucking tight. Been keeping this for me, huh? Kept them dirty jocks away just for me, huh?" He asked as he sped up. "Oh, I know you have. Because you know that if I found out about anyone being in my little girl, I'd fuck you harder than this. Might have even done anal to teach you a lesson," he threatened.
"S-Slow down, please," I begged as I wrapped my hands around his back and scratched at it. "Fuck — Fuck, don't do that baby. Gonna get me close," he said, triggering my mind. I'm not on the pill.
"N-No! Billy, I'm not on the pill," I got to pushing at his stomach and chest again, hoping he'd pull out before it was too late. "Oh don't worry baby. I got your pill with me," he said. He planned this out.
"S-Still, I can't," I said. "Why?" He asked keeping his paste as he looked into my glossy eyes. "I-I just can't, Billy," a few tears rolled down my face as my legs began to shake a little. I really can't hold this knot in my stomach. And I'm going to cum?
"Why can't you, huh? Cause you wanna keep that first time for some other dude at the school? For Jason? For Garret, you've been flirting with, huh?" Billy asked. How does he know about Garret?
"Oh yeah, I know. I know you how around. I'm surprised no one's gotten to you before. I bet you'd like to be a little prey for the school. For the boys to hunt down and use, wouldn't you?" Billy asked but I didn't answer. I don't. I've only had some thoughts of Billy using me like this.
"Wouldn't you!?" He yelled in my face. "No! No, I wouldn't!" I cried out. Billy gripped my neck and tightened his other hand on my waist harder than before as he leaned toward my face.
"You opened your legs so fucking fast for me. You're a little weak whore that I only get to use. I only get to bully. I own you, do you understand me?" He asked and I quickly nodded but slowly.
"Mhmm, and if I find out you're doing anything, even the slightest thing to make people think you're single and not take, I'll fuck your little cunt full of my cum and show them, do you under fucking stand!?" He aggressively asked as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
"Y-Yes!" I dragged as my legs shook and I began to release all over him and my bed. "Fuck fuck fuck, please, fuck!" I basically screamed. Billy tightened his grip around my neck to watch my screams be taken away from me.
"Fuck, you're so hot. Do you know how good it feels? Fucking your wet little pussy while you cry for me. While you cum all over my dick like you've done this a million times," Billy started praising me.
"Billy," I whined at the overstimulated. "Ima eat your pussy dry after I fill you up, baby, so you better get used to that after the shock of your pathetic little orgasm," he teased. Why does he still have to bully me? And why is it so fucking hot?
"Whining at being degraded? What a sad and silly little thing. You don't know what you got yourself into, baby. I'm going to ruin you and put you all back together because I love you," Billy said as his hand that was on my waist, softly grabbed my face.
"Yeah, I said it. I'm fucking in love with you. It's pretty hard not to see but you're a dumb little whore so it can definitely pass your mind. But it's okay, baby. I love you that way. Innocent and clueless. And also cock drunk," Billy slowly deep stroked into me.
Billy smashed his lips onto mine, probably thinking I'd be too tired to kiss him back but I gathered my energy and joined with a moans following. I never knew I'd be this in love with him. How can he make me fall in love with him like this? He's mean but I'm beginning to love it. I think I've always loved it...
#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargove imagine#billy hargrove#stranger things smut#pure smut#bullly Billy Hargrove#dark!billy Hargrove#innocent reader#virgin reader
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Landside
Billy X GF!Reader
Authors Note: We want a scared Dad Billy? Yeah we’re gonna get one.
AU Summary - This is if Billy didn’t ‘actually' die during Season 3. He’s been with the group for a year, even aiding them against Vecna Season 4. Everyone who fell victim to Vecna was trapped in the Upside Down, including but not limited to Barb, Billy (ofc), Bob, Chrissy, Eddie, Jason, etc You get the idea. They all still bear the weight of what happened to all of them. It’s like they were raised from the dead if you will. This fic takes place maybe five years later? So 1990-91 ish
Warnings/Tags: Smut, Unplanned pregnancy, family trauma, name-calling between friends. Fixing everything and any death post season 4, lots of Steddie and Ronance, Talk of body issues, pregnancy fears, fear of not being good enough, Physical violence in the form of threats or thrown objects.
Word Count: 7.8k
I come up from doing a few laps in the pool, stepping up the stairs. Billy walked towards me with a towel in hand.
“Looking good out there Ms. Y/L/N.” I smirk, taking the towel from his hands, dabbing at the water on my face and hairline.
“Thank you,”
“Perfect form, and that suit is marvelous.” he winks.
“Well your form is marvelous,” I say making him blush, “I mean, you are a great teacher, teaching lessons to the kids-”
“You know, I could uh. I could teach you if you like?”
“Oh?”
“Yes, well, I know all the styles.” he looked me up and down, opening a piece of gum. Setting his free hand to follow the strap of the bikini dangerously close to cupping my breast. “Free style, um Butterfly, and Breast stroke.” I watch him breach his soft lips slipping the gum into his mouth, accidentally dropping the towel in my hands.
“Oops.” I bend over, picking up the towel slowly. So he can see the arch of my back and the space between my bathing suit and breasts. “I didn’t know you offered adult lessons.”
“Well you know, I offer advanced lessons to a select clientele. Come to think of it, there's a good pool out at uh, Motel 6 on Cornwallis. Very quiet, you know, very private. Should we say tonight, 8 o’clock.”
“Wouldn’t this be the 4th time this week Mr. Hargrove? I don’t think there’s anything left to teach me.” I brush my hands on his chest toying with the whistle around his neck.
“Oh you see that’s where you're wrong I think there are plenty of things left to do. I just don’t think I’ve pushed you hard enough.” leaning into the tease, brushing up my arm leaving goosebumps even in the damp heat of summer.
“Well I need to-”
“It will be the workout of your life.” he cut me off,
“I will need your help deciding what to wear, you have such impeccable taste.” I ran my hand down my side over the hem of the swim bottoms, knowing it drove him crazy looking at the light trail of hair disappearing into my swim bottoms along my pelvis.
“A tease you are,” he pulls my waist to him, kissing me deeply for everyone at the pool to see how taken we are with each other. My fingertips dip into his waistband, distracting him while my tongue dips into his mouth, snatching the gum and pulling back quickly. "Oh a thief too, I see your game." I blow a bubble, smacking the gum and twisting out of his arms to hold his hands.
“Gotta hit the showers, California, perhaps a rain check? I’ll find you before I leave!” winking and popping the gum one last time, skipping to cool off from the hot sun in the women's locker room.
Grabbing a fresh towel and some soap from my locker I pull the curtain taut. Letting the water run over my suit, unsticking it with all the chlorine and sunscreen. Hanging it on the hook, tying my hair up and washing my body. Just when there’s suds' coating my eyes I hear someone pull the curtain open,
“This one’s taken!” I hide my body against the wall, trying to wash out the soap when the curtain closes again. Getting frustrated I vigorously put water in my eyes, hearing wet steps. A hand covers my mouth so I can’t scream, turning me around quickly to the haughty chuckle. Billy stands smiling wildly, “What do you think you're doing!” I smack at his chest, he shushes my protest, kissing down my throat creating a bee-line to my chest. Instinctively I hook my arms around his neck, looking down to see he’s also completely naked. “You're supposed to be working, go away.” I hum as he kisses the tops of my breasts.
“But your breasts are so amazing and all soapy. God, have they gotten bigger? My girls, all pretty and sensitive.” he whines on my neck, “and I know you didn’t just buy a suit I wanted, tease me with it. Not wanting me to fuck you, oh not my doll! What have you done with her?!” I laugh as he shakes me, hands on the middle of my spine.
“Okay well then it worked better than I thought, I guess actions speak louder-” he was hammering the spot on my neck that gives my stomach butterflies, “Billy-” I whine.
“Yes? Anything for you.” he looked up, with those gorgeous blue eyes pupils of black onyx swallowing the ocean with lust.
“B, I don’t feel too good...” I pout,
“Well then, let me make you feel so much better, huh? Let Billy take care of you. I'll make you feel better, and damn you smell so good, Indiana.” He doesn’t push my limits by forcing himself on me, just showering me with love in his way of physical contact.
"Billy-..."
"What hurts baby?"
"My back, and I'm nauseous." I hold onto him, playing with his St. Christopher’s necklace under the cool water.
"Well I could blow your back out for ya and buy you dinner afterwards. A nice corn dog and push pop from concessions?"
"You're not helping. You corn dog."
"Correction, it's horn dog." He blows a raspberry along my neck, correcting me.
“Billy! Someone will hear us!” I laugh, running my hand through his wet locks.
“Nope paid that one kid five bucks to scare anyone off, think his name is Ben. Maybe Benson?”
“There’s a teenager outside the woman’s shower room scaring people away so you can fuck me?”
“No, I locked the door and put one of the shower chairs under the handle!”
“Hmm, might take me a little more convincing.” I tease, pushing his shoulders down for him to kneel in front of me. He winks holding onto the backs of my thighs.
“God damn, doll.” He nuzzles his nose along the seam of my cunt, lifting one of my legs to hook over his shoulder. “So fucking wet f’ me, huh?”
“Yes...” I moan when he licks a trail from my entrance to my clit sucking the button into his mouth to roll it over his tongue. He looks up at me as two of his fingers split my folds curling them inside me.
“Shit Billy, ‘M close.” I pant holding the back of his head as he licks my cunt like his favorite ice cream flavor. He pulls off suddenly standing, retreating his fingers from my cunt to circle my clit.
“Want to feel you cum on my cock, doll. Get me there.” He commands, thrusting his swollen and leaky cock against my thigh. I grasp him, rolling in matching circles with my thumb along the tip.
My head thumps the tile wall and we giggle at the noise.
“You okay?” He holds me cheek in his free hand then threading his fingers into my soaked hair.
“Yeah, want you.” I whisper, kissing his lips with bruising passion. He takes himself from my hand lining up with my entrance. Holding my other leg against his hip now so I’m spread open for him. He puts my hand between our bodies above my clit,
“Rub your clit for me, not gonna last long in your pretty pussy.” I whimper at the thought, he kisses me deeply as he pushes inside. My walls have to re-stretch around his girth every time. My free hand accidentally scratches along his back as he pounds into me. He pants into my mouth as he picks up speed, I squeeze around him cumming with a soft cry of his name. That sends him over the edge. I can feel the first wave of his hot load as he pushes himself deeper inside.
Billy drops my leg, rubbing at my hip and holding me upright as we come down from our high. He kisses along my collarbone as he reaches for my body wash. We spend a few minutes in peaceful post orgasm, treasuring each other’s bodies before he speaks.
“Feel better, doll?” Billy whispers like an unspoken confession.
“A little, thank you honey.” I turn off the water after we clean ourselves off, he dries off by shaking out his hair like a dog. Pelting me with water droplets in the process.
“What?” He acts innocent as I dry my arms and legs, “I’m going back to the pool anyway.” He hands me a towel allowing me to dress moderately dry. Giving up his water after his guided workout, I take one sip before being hauled over his shoulder.
“Billy!” I yell as he grabs my bag from the hook, moving the chair from the door.
“What? I promised my girl some dinner!” He smacks my ass when he walks down the hall to concessions.
“Billy put me down, I’m too heavy!” I groan, getting nauseous from the pressure on my abdomen. He sets me down on the counter cutting the line completely, getting one of his close friends Heather’s attention in the process.
“Horseshit, you’re fucking light if anything and beautiful no matter what. You could turn green and I’d still do ya.” Heather and I audibly cringe at him.
“Regular for both of you?” she asks leaning over the counter
“Yeah, three corn dogs and a large coke with-”
“With mustard I know!” She goes to the single fryer, dropping them in.
“Have you tipped her today?” I ask him, pinching his waist.
“Ow, hey we both work here. I might as well give her some of my paycheck with the amount of food we trade.”
“Trade?” I raise my eyebrow in disbelief “Billy it is your responsibility as the straight white man to empower the women in your life. Be better.”
“Yeah ass-wipe, be a good civil servant and pay me.” Heather leans over handing me a paper cup of Coke with a straw.
“Stuff it dyke.” I gasp smacking him in the chest, “Ow!”
“Bite me lunkhead.” She fires back at him, they flip each other off like children.
“You two are terrible to each other.” I groan, sliding off the counter when she sets the bag down next to us.
“Hey Y/N, are you coming to the tailgate tonight with everyone?” She asks, tearing a twister with her teeth.
“Um, I don’t know yet. We’ll call you tonight if we can’t make it. Right Bills?” I look at him looking for a way out of it.
“No babe we gotta. We’re hosting the after party at our place with everyone. So I can keep an eye on Max.”
“Don’t go all psycho big brother on her, she’s in high school Billy.” They start to argue about what they were exposed to at young ages and with Max’s condition Billy argues she could be taken advantage of. I feel dizzy as they argue, leaning onto Billy’s shoulder for support.
“You can’t say shit because you are an only child, huh?” Billy pulls me closer by my waist, trying to have me side with him. “Doll, you okay?”
“Huh? Just got really sleepy, I think I should nap and pick up the apartment before we have a bunch of our friends and family over.” I kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you at home?”
“Yeah of course, you want me to walk you to the car?” Billy asks worriedly, pressing a kiss to my temple and hugging me tightly goodbye.
“No it’s okay, have a good shift guys. I’ll see you tonight!” I wave leaving the food and cola with Billy. I drive home quickly and pass out on the couch immediately blaming it on the Hawkins heatwave.
I woke up a couple hours later to dishes clanking together and whispered song lyrics. Stretching my aching muscles, I stand seeing a blanket thrown over my lap. Smiling, I walk into our kitchenette to see Billy with his Walkman on full blast, before he can see me. My stomach gurgles and I race to the bathroom, throwing up an empty stomach of Water and Cola. I sit on the floor for a moment dizzy, dry heaving a few times. Noticing I’d knocked over a box of tampons that were unopened. My heart drops as I try to piece together when I’d had my last period.
“Shit...” I scramble off the bathroom floor going into the bedroom with my purse with my planner and address book. By the book it could’ve been anywhere from 7 to 9 weeks ago. It’s not like Billy and I’s sex life isn’t consistent, and birth control wasn’t something I could feel good about. We agreed to use condoms and suffer any consequences if that happened. Last time this happened was in Highschool, Billy took me to the clinic and they gave me something called Danazol or something like that. Everything turned out okay then, but we were older now this really had consequences now if I was truly pregnant.
“Y/N? Where are you at doll?” Billy yells down the hallway, dragging his feet and hitting his hip on the hall table like always. I look at myself in my vanity mirror and quickly wipe my eyes clean. Running into the closet before he steps inside the room.
“Picking out my outfit for tonight!” I answer back, clearing my throat.
“Oh yeah?” Billy comes around the corner, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Does that mean my girl is gonna give me a little show?” He chuckles.
“Unless you wanna be late to the tailgate? Not again, hot stuff.” I turn out of his arms, looking in our shared dresser for pants.
“Ooo you should wear those black Levi’s your butt looks good in.” He thinks, always having the more trendy style out of the two of us.
“Okay what shirt? I don't want to get too hot.” I add taking the high waisted Levi’s out, with a tired huff.
“I’d say none because you’re already smoking-” Billy teases
“Billy please, you are the one who got me into this mess. Please help me.”
“Okay, I’m sorry for finding you the best thing in my life so violently attractive.” He pleads and pouts “Forgive me, and definitely that solid red crop you wear to the bars.”
“I wear that to show off my boobs and get us free drinks.”
“Exactly, you look great in it.” I scoff, grabbing the clothes and some fresh under clothes.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked him from the bathroom, happy he didn’t look too closely at my facial expressions. Billy has a way with prying things out of people, part of the endless Casanova charm.
“Hell yeah got and eight pack and Munson and that other tall dude are bringing the dobie. We are all set.” He goes on about the plans tonight as I get ready in the bathroom. Looking under the sink after I change my clothes I look for a spare test. Always having some cheap ones lying around for myself or friends. Hitting a particular box with my hand I take it out and go to pee. Setting it on the counter while adding a hint of makeup and volume to my hair.
“Almost ready, Bills.” I call out, waiting longer than three minutes. I close my eyes and flip over the test on the counter. Taking a deep steadying breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. My neck sweats as I slowly open my eyes, looking down. I gasp, loud enough it worries Billy.
“Babe?”
“Sorry accidentally stabbed my eye with the mascara wand!” I say the first thing that comes to mind, cringing as I hold my hand over my mouth.
“Okay we let's get going Indiana, we can’t keep my fans waiting.” He laughs, starting to open the bathroom door. I scramble throwing the test into the medicine cabinet and shutting the mirror.
“Yeah, let’s go!” Billy dips in for a kiss,
“You look beautiful.”
“I look like a sl-”
“No, do you like it?” He asks honestly, I nod my head. He’s matched with cut offs and a Def Leppard muscle tee. “Then you're perfect. Grab your purse doll. I’ll go start the car.”
I smile sighing in relief, wrapping the test in toilet paper and burying it in the trash. Locking the door behind us, Billy already has his new muscle car running. A 1985 Camaro IROC-Z in his signature blue color. The drive to the large run down lot where Star Court had burned down. Gives you shivers thinking about when I lost him for nearly a whole year. He has a hand on my thigh as he pulls up next to Steve’s burgundy BMW. Robin and Nancy immediately separate us, taking me away to get each of us a drink.
“Girls, Jesus hang on a second!” I laugh barely able to get my seat belt off before I’m dragged to Argyle’s Van.
“Hey there pretty ladies Johnny boy has the drinkies in the front seats.” He says as him and Jonathan’s head hang off the side of the out back doors. They are already toasted.
“Got any Coke?” I ask
“Which kind?” I hear a scruffy voice behind me, turning to see Eddie. I hug him tightly,
“Eddie!” I shriek, swallowing down tears in my eyes as Steve stands awkwardly next to him. I pull him into my next hug “Stevie! When did you morons get home?”
“Couple hours ago, Eddie just sold a few songs to a up and coming band in Texas?”
“Yeah, Pantera? Plus another to Warrant again, they should release their new album sometime this fall.” Eddie confirms a little smug,
“Wow good for you, babes.” I smack Eddie’s bare shoulder, feeling someone’s hands wrap around my waist and sniff my hair obnoxiously. “Billy...” I squirm feeling cold beverages in his hands.
“Hello gentlemen, see you’ve reunited with my lover.” His breath reeks of cheap beer already making my stomach turn upside-down.
“Sure have, wanna bum me a smoke like old times?” Eddie shakes Billy’s hand, Steve and Billy share a nod, still not fully healing their relationship quite yet.
“Go hang out with the guys, the girls and I are gonna mingle with some distant friends.” I encourage him, he gives me the ice cold coke he got for me before heading off with them.
“Okay Y/N,” Robin slurs a little, holding onto Nancy’s hand “now I wouldn’t say I’m an expert on breasts more a connoisseur.”
“Because you like judging people” Nancy laughs,
“Shush, baby. We’re all friends here but babes what are you doing differently? You look so hot, right now!” Robin holds her hands out like she’s trying to convince Nancy and I.
“Just a-” I freeze watching Nancy’s eyes narrow, like she does when she is trying to solve a puzzle. Damn Nancy Drew acting Wheeler.
“Just... What?” Robin asks a little loud, we both shush her.
“I’m late.”
“Late?” Robin looks at her girlfriend quizzically,
���How late?” Nancy’s eyes nearly burst out of her skull, Robin nods along with her eyes squinted.
“The positive kind.” You try to hint to both of them, Robin now bobbing along to the music as she drinks from her solo cup.
“Shit, does Billy know?”
“I took the test before we left, I don’t know what to do.”
“Does he want kids?”
“Yes, no? Shit maybe? We’re just in a really good place right now so I’m nervous.” I shrug, and Nancy hugs me. Robin turns around randomly and then runs towards Steve as he goes to get another beer.
“Everything will be okay, we’re here for you.” She takes my arm and we walk around mingling and chasing Robin away from the trunks with beer pong set up on them after she talks to Steve.
He walks back over to the guys, Billy is catching up with Heather when Steve whispers something into Eddie’s ear.
“Yeah right, I’m gonna school your ass when we get to my place.” Billy yells at Heather as she walks towards you and the other girls.
Steve clears his throat, Eddie looks at him oddly. Steve nods towards Billy, Eddie’s brows furrow as he sighs.
“Hey, Billy you're okay with Y/N dressing like that?” Eddie lowly wolf whistles, at the sight of her. Steve knocks on his head with his beer bottle.
“Um hello? I’m right here.” Steve rolls his eyes, Eddie knocks his shoulder, spilling his beer a little on his shirt. Billy laughs when Steve glares back, taking a long drag of his smoke and blowing it in the opposite direction of his friends.
“I picked out her outfit, I know how to fight. Y/N can wear whatever she wants.” Billy says, simply through his exhale.
“Okay man but... Stevie over here did win in ‘84. Just saying.” Eddie says critically, through his teeth, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Hey fuck off Scarface.” Billy scoffs as Steve interjects, wrapping an arm around his very not sober boyfriend's waist.
“Look Hargrove, Eds is just saying Y/N/N has filled out a bit this summer and is getting a little unwarranted attention.” Steve points the neck of his beer bottle to the ex-basketball team, all a bunch of high school rejects still living in their parents basement as they get fatter and older.
“Oh come on, they’re too scared of me to mess with my girl. I came back from the dead remember?” Billy wiggles his spare fingers while oooing and ahhing like a ghost. Eddie laughs at that, knocking their beers together while Steve’s headaches at the idiocracy.
The sun sets and a majority of the adults who have to work in the morning leave. While a majority of the high schoolers stay together drinking the now warm beer, most of our group also sticking close together about starting college or jobs in the fall. Billy and I reunited shortly after to head over to the apartment first, Lucas and Max sat in the back seat of the car as I drove, being the only sober one.
“I totally could’ve driven, I only had a few beers.”
“And smoked a joint with the guys.” I add turning down the music,
“What can't I bond with my little sister's boyfriend?”
“I had one puff, I doubt I’ll even feel anything.”
“One puff was enough, you already drank tonight Lucas.” Max says kindly,
“Pfft you girls worry too much, right Sinclair?” Billy holds out his fist for Lucas to bump it. He laughs a little too hard when Billy tries to yank him forward.
“Don’t gang up on the only two women that enjoy your company.” Max scoffs at her brother.
“Whatever, you're up for some ball tomorrow Sinclair?”
“He can’t-” She’s cut off my Lucas explaining their plans
“Sorry Billy, it’s Max and I’s anniversary. We’re staying in Indianapolis for the night.”
“Aw how cute, please take pictures.” You fawn over them, you know exactly what Lucas has been through. That pain of losing your first love, knowing at a young age it was your last. Taking this second chance for all it’s worth every moment no matter how insignificant it is to others, is precious.
“Better wear protection Sinclair, or I’ll have to kick your ass for knocking up my sister.”
“Billy!” Max punches him hard in the shoulder.
“What Billy means is we want you to be smart about your choices, but we can’t tell you what to do anymore-”
“Just want what’s best for you, you’re good kids. We don’t need more children running around right now, we’re all still kids.” Billy cuts you off,
“Um, Y/N are you on birth control?” Lucas asks politely, We’d agreed when Lucas and Max got serious their junior year they could ask me and Billy anything. I didn’t want them to feel odd for their feelings or idiots for the things that aren’t taught.
“I didn't enjoy it, I use a diaphragm sometimes which is like a cup that prevents the sperm from going up into the cervix. Yet we mainly use condoms because the latter makes us both uncomfortable.” I put simply, shrugging. I look in the back mirror. Lucas is leaning his head on Max’s shoulder as she plays with his shirt cuff.
“It feels like your jamming your penis into plastic Tupperware surrounded by warm-”
“EW! Ew stop Billy.” Max covers her ears and starts singing to the radio. I turn it up for her, we pull up to our assigned parking. Others start filling up the parking lot shortly after making a b-line straight to Billy and I’s apartment.
“No, we had to pull off to the side of the road because we were lost, and exhausted!” Billy exasperates,
“If Billy didn’t finally just pull over, I probably would've strangled him over the armrest.” I add to the story of Billy’s and I’s recent across-country road trip to California.
“So what happened after you figured out where you were?” Will asks
“Not exactly we-”
“We were in the backseat when a Sheriff drove by. We couldn’t even get our pants you all the way before he knocked on the window.” Billy laughs, Eddie and Argyle join him.
“I pulled down my dress while Billy collected himself enough to ask the man, old enough to be my grandfather for directions.” I rolled my eyes, leaning against Billy. He wrapped his arm around me as he finished the story.
“He handed me a handkerchief and slapped me on the back because her lipstick was smeared on my neck.” He pointed right under his jaw,
“Yeah I’m the slut and he was the stud.” I scoff,
“It’s okay baby. He probably keeled over jerking it to the image of you in that sundress when he got home that night.”
“Ew.” I cringe, “Want another babe?” I ask taking his empty beer can away.
“No, I'm good doll.”
“Hey did you hear Carol Perkins and Tommy H. are expecting?” Steve nods, sharing to Billy and I, I stiffen in Billy’s arms thankfully his too tipsy to notice.
“Yeah no shit, I never really gave a shit about them after graduation. They were the kind of people you know in school and then end it. Figures they are one of the firsts to get knocked up.” Billy continues to blabber about how he doesn’t think anyone should have kids until they’re married or at least financially stable among other things. In front of all our friends, who Buckley has told everyone closest to Billy and I.
My stomach turns as I make eye contact with Steve. Him and Billy did work things out, my friendship with Steve and Steve’s serious partnership with Billy’s closet friend Eddie made a huge difference.
“I’ll be back..” I walk down the hallway past my spare bedroom where Robin is passed out as Elle and Max read a Cosmo next to her. I go into the bathroom and sit on the toilet trying to collect myself. There’s a knock and a call of my name. “Almost done.” I call out,
“It’s just me doll, are you okay?” Billy talks quietly, I open the door and he swoops me into his arms, “What’s going on? You’ve been weird all night.”
“I’m sorry.” I mumble in his shoulder
“Don’t apologize, I know you haven’t been feeling good lately. Maybe we should make an appointment or something?”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” He kisses me once, then twice.
“Do you want kids?”
“Is that why your acting strange, because of the pressure of having babies outta high school?”
“You didn’t answer my question...” I whisper looking at the ground trying to will tears out of my eyes
“No, I don’t think I do. My Dad was a shitty father to say the least, he thought having me would save his marriage but the abuse he gave to my mom only got worse afterwards. That’s too much responsibility.” He answers so assured and honest it breaks my heart.
Maybe a dog, someday but fuck kids. We’d be great Aunt ‘n Uncle to Max’s kids and anyone else who decides to baby-make.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Why do you ask?” Billy asks nervous
“I heard about Carol at the grocery store and wasn’t sure how’d you react.”
“Oh Y/N I don’t give a crap about them. Not when I have you guys.”
“Hey, I think I’m going to say goodnight to everyone and lay down early.”
“Yeah? I can end the party if you need.”
“No, no. I can sleep through anything.”
“Okay doll, whatever you need.”
I go back out into the living room and slowly say goodnight to everyone, Steve, my best friend next to Billy, hugs me a little longer and a little tighter.
“Good night, honey. We’re here for you.”
“Yeah, always Y/N.”
“Thanks guys, love you.” I blow Eddie and Steve a kiss, Eddie dramatically falls backwards and Steve catches it to place over his heart.
Everyone else bids me goodnight as well, I run into Nancy and she’s waking a very grumpy very sleepy Robin.
“You leaving?” I ask her, Robin is practically curled around Nancy’s small frame leaning on her for support.
“Yeah Robs doesn’t feel good obviously.” Nancy shakes her head, placing a kiss on her partner's cheek.
“I’m never drinking again...” Robin groans
“Get home safe girls, call the house when you get there?” I hug both of them,
“Mike is driving us home since he’s sober, we’ll be okay.” She assures me, small towns were definitely non-conforming but we’d heard of other violence acts committed on same-sex couples in the bigger cities. No one ever deserved that.
Call me, if you need anything. We’re here for you too.” Nancy adds, saying goodbye to everyone as her, Robin and Mike leave.
I go into my bedroom and close the door, putting on my pajamas and removing my makeup. My stomach turns but I go to sleep anyway, a couple hours later I feel the bed dip and a warm arm wrap around my waist. It disappears a few hours later as Billy gets ready for work. Like always, I slowly wake up before he leaves, giving him a goodbye kiss. When he’s out the door, I race to the bathroom and puke my guts out. It’s like that enough of the morning I call out of work. Laying sadly in bed most of the day, until just before Billy gets home around 6. I wash my face and take another test, once again it’s overwhelmingly showing positive. I took this one and the other I hid in the trash last night and put them in my pocket. I conjured a plan on how to tell him, Billy Hargrove. My Billy, he comes home as I’m finishing the only dinner that sounded and smelled appetizing.
“Hey Indiana! I’m home.”
“Hi California.” I call back from the kitchen, plating the chicken and pesto for two. Well three...
How was work?” He kisses me on the cheek, smelling of coconut sunscreen and chlorine.
“It was okay, I had lots of lessons today. The boss is having me take a course on training babies how to swim. Guess it’s in high demand, and extremely important. Almost 45% if not more babies from birth to age four.” He tells me wide eyed, helping me bring the plates to the table as I grab him and beer and the ginger ale I’d been nursing for a couple of hours.
“That’s horrible.”
“Yeah but it means they’re moving me to nearly full-time since those lessons are more important than just the summer. I start working at the Hawkins Rec Center in a few weeks.” He says with a smile hidden by pesto
“Wait, you got a promotion?!”
“Yep, don’t have to go back to the shop this year. I can just teach lessons and couch at the high school.”
“Billy, that's amazing!” I reach out and take his hand,
“I can’t wait, but I’m a little nervous about teaching kiddos so young.”
“You're great with kids Billy.”
“I wasn’t-”
“You’ve changed, you and Max had a lot of unresolved issues. Things have gotten a lot better the past couple years. For christ’s sake she is here for dinner at least once a week if not more. Not even Susan can say she sees her daughter as much.”
“Thanks, how was your day?” He kisses the top of my hand all suave and romantic,
“Haven’t been feeling to good but I think I’ll get better in a couple months...”
“You go to the doctor?”
“No, I took a test yesterday and today.” I swallow the bile rising in my stomach
“If you didn’t go to the doctors-” I cut Billy off, running to the bathroom and clutching the toilet bowl. He follows, then helps by holding my hair and rubbing my back. “We should go to the ER, you didn’t even drink yesterday.”
“It’s okay-”
“No the hell it’s not Y/N! You’re throwing you guts up and you’ve-”
“Billy...” I hold out my hand for him to help me up, flushing the toilet before washing my hands. Tears fall down my cheeks,
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell...”
“It’s not that.” I strain to find the two words, hiding my face in my hands.
“What’s going on?”
“Promise we can talk about this?” I turn to him dizzy, I take his hand in mine and go to sit down on our bed.
“We can talk about anything, Y/N.” He pushes my hair out of my face. I reach into my sweatshirt pocket and turn over the pregnancy tests. Tears continue to cascade down my cheeks as Billy freezes his expression is unreadable. He swallows hard taking the tests.
“I’m pregnant.” I tell him wetly, wiping away tears so I can see him better. He stands, throwing the tests down the hall with a clatter. Hard enough I jump at the sudden action. Hands running through his hair, irritation now bursting through the seams.
“What?” He scoffs
“I’m pregnant, Billy.”
“Fuck, Y/N.” He paces the foot of the bed, working himself up “How long? How long did you keep this shit from me?”
“I-I found out last night.” I explained standing close to him.
“Yeah? Is that why you’ve been all weird and shit around me? You were hiding this?”
“Nooo, no Billy. Please.” I try and reach for him,
“Don’t ‘No, Billy’ me. Is this why you don’t want to go on birth control? Just trying to trap me?” His voice gets elevated as the questions continue, he pushes off my hand like he’s been scolded with hot water.
“No, I love you.” I cry, holding onto myself
“Do you? You know I don’t want kids, Y/N!” He gets in my face words booming through the house and my ears and I gasp. “What the fuck?” He storms out the room, hearing him knock into the table in the hall with a groan before there’s a crash and bang. I run out, he’s thrown it across the hallway creating a dent in the drywall and breaking the legs of anything that was on top flung or stepped on.
“Please don’t push me away!” I raise my voice, trying to walk over the mess in my bare feet.
“Did you even think, to consider how I felt?”
“I am trying to understand but you're yelling and throwing things around. Are you blaming me for this?”
“You’ve got some nerve, it takes two Y/N. You won’t make me do shit, now move.” I find him in the living room collecting his wallet and keys.
“Billy, please-” I beg him standing in front of the door, he moves me aside with a strong hand.
“No, I’m leaving. I can’t do this, this is the one thing.” He spits at me, fire exploding behind his eyes.
“If you leave, I’ll never forgive you!” I call to him, my voice raw and overwhelmed with emotion.
My mind begging and pleading for him to shut the door and engulf me in his arms. Tell me everything will be okay, that he loves me and we’ll get through this.
“It’s too much.” He fums, the door slams shut behind him, shaking a picture off the wall.
I hobble over to it, defeated, it’s one from the California trip. Billy had given the camera he borrowed from Jonathan to an older surfer to take a photo of us at the beach in our wetsuits. My hair is tied back, smiling at the camera with a teeth filled grin. While Billy looks at me and smiles, eyes dopey with exhaustion but something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Joy. The glass from the frame has shattered and scratched it, splitting the two of us by our hands. I hold it close as I dial the only people I can trust,
“Yello, Munsington household or Harrinuson if you like that better.” Eddie answers the phone, with his infectious bravoto.
“Hi Eds.” I sob out in relief.
“Y/N, honey. What’s-” His voice deepens immediately in concern,
“I-I told him, he left. He left me.” I weep into the receiver, trying to collect my thoughts.
“Okay, hey do me a favor unlock the door and turn on the TV? Distract yourself while Steve and I get there.” Eddie tells me calmly, ‘What’s going on?’ I hear Steve interrupts.
“Okay. I’ll try, I’m so sick Eddie.”
“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Eddie asks, ‘Is that Y/N/N?’ Steve interrogates still faint on the line.
“No, I’m just puking.”
“Is there blood or anything strange about it?”
“No...” I cry louder
“Hey-hey,” Eddie gets my attention again, “that’s good. Remember what I said, Steve and I are getting in the car right after I hang up.”
“Okay Eds.”
“We’ll be there soon, Sweet Girl.” Steve takes the phone from Eddie who barks ‘Steve where are my keys?!’
Hang tight, I’ll be right there. Everything's gonna be fine.” Steve assures both of us.
“Yeah...”
“We’re on our way.” Steve hangs up the phone, staring at his metal head boyfriend with a single shoe on untied and the other in his hands as he tears up the entire living room looking for his keys.
“Eds?” Steve stands by the landline hands on his hips.
“Hold on Steve, I gotta find my keys!” Eddie holds out his shoe pointing it at his boyfriend as he moves to the kitchen table.
“Eddie.” He scolds in a boisterous manner enough to make Eddie look at him
“What?!” Eddie yells, looking at his boyfriend to find him jiggling Eddie’s car keys in his hand,
“Get in the van-.” He motions him to the door,
“Why’d you let me tear up the apartment?”
“It was kinda funny, give me a reason to make you help me clean it when we get home.” Steve throws the keys to Eddie going to the passenger side.
“I haven’t even put my shoes on.”
“I doubt your shoes will have any impact on us kicking Billy’s ass.”
I hear a single knock at the door before a flurry of dark curls and onyx eyes enters the apartment, behind him a tanned honey colored pompadour with equally syrup eyes enters. I suck in a breath, watching them look around. Steve goes to where I’m crouched in the living room, cleaning up the glass from the picture frame. He immediately engulfs me in his arms, not saying a word as I squeeze him a little too tight.
“Hey, shhh. I’m here, Sweet Girl. I got you.” He holds me tight, his caress of my hair like an affirmation he’s molding to my skin with each rub.
“Shit Steve where is she, he tore up the hallway-” Eddie walks with untied shoes to Steve practically hoisting me in his lap as I cry, he holds one of the positive tests.
Hey, Y/N...” Eddie accidentally steps in the pile of glass swept together, he finishes the job with a broom and dustpan. My breathing steadies a bit more with them here, I’m not alone.
“I'm sorry, I don’t have anyone else to call.”
“Hey now, none of that. Don’t apologize, you’d do the same thing if Eddie knocked me up.” I chuckle at Steve pinching his bicep, feeling relieved by the minute.
“You’d make a great mom.” I breathe deep trying to make the joke back,
“So are you.” Steve kisses my temple, swaying us in the living room. His words sink deep as I hide my wet cheeks and snotty-nose into his shoulder.
“Um, I don't know if you want your pee stick but I found it in the entryway.” Eddie sits criss-crossed in front of us, setting the test down like an offering in front of me. Taking a minute to finally tie his shoes, as if he hasn't tripped a billion times since leaving the apartment.
“Gross Eddie, it’s just called a pregnancy test.” Steve chortles straightening out his leg to kick the other in the thigh.
“Ow! You’ve hurt me deeply Stevie, I twas trying to lighten the mood. Also that pasta is the freaking bomb.” He swats Steve’s foot away when he nudges him again. Noticing a change in mood again, instead of sadness it’s anger.
“It made me sick, that’s how the conversation started...” I mumble against Steve,
“Wait am I going to get sick from eating some?” Eddie asks alarmed
“No stupid she’s having morning sickness, keep up.” He squints at his boyfriend as if to say ‘read the room’.
“Are you PMS-ing babe? You’ve been awfully mean-” The metal head pouts,
“Shush this is about Y/N.” The King with no crown points his finger angry,
“No, I love it when you two bicker like you’ve been married for 50 years.”
“One day with this one is a whole year’s worth of irritation.” Steve sticks out his tongue playfully at Eddie shaking his head.
“I wonder what 5 minutes of pleasure with me is then.” Eddie blows a kiss and wiggles his eyebrows.
“Ew stop being in love in front of my unborn child.” the silence is a pregnant as you are.
“So Robin wasn’t just drunk blabbering last night?” Steve rubs his warm hand along my back,
“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’, the silence overwhelms all of us until Eddie gets uncomfortable enough to speak.
“You don’t have to right this second but, you wanna tell us what’s going on?” He fumblingly asks with a concerned smile. I relay all of what happened tonight along with a few more tidbits.
“Billy hasn’t ever explicitly told me he didn’t want kids. So I wasn't expecting him to be excited and have everything figured out but he just left me.”
“Jesus Christ, you talk to anyone else?” Eddie wipes a hand over his forehead, I shake my head. Steve has been tense since I started talking about what Billy said.
“He say where he went?” Steve asks with deathly calm, I shake my head twirling the test in my hands.
“I know where he is, and I’m gonna kill ‘im.” Eddie stands up, taking out his car keys.
“No Eddie!” I whine,
“Munson, where the hell are you going?” Steve stands beside me,
“To talk some sense into this asshole, I love you I’ll be back-” He kisses Steve before running out of the complex.
“Don’t get arrested!” Steve yells out, turning back around to me. “How about you get cleaned up? I’ll clean up out here and we can watch a movie together on the couch like old times.” He offers, holding my arms and massaging my biceps to encourage laughter.
“What about the drywall? And the kitchen-”
“Y/N/N. I’ll call Wayne in the morning, I’m sure he’s got the tools from patching up the trailer. And I’ll clean the kitchen so you don’t get sick again because of the food aversion.”
“You’re stubborn...” I pout, moving over the broken pieces of wall and furniture in the hallway.
“Nah just enough to not take shit from you and Henderson.” He laughs, picking up the trashed things in the hall as I enter the bathroom.
Turning on the shower to warm up a few seconds allows the room to fill with steam. The first thing I see in the mirror is me, hazy and weak. Too weak to handle side effects a a little blue pill, to weak to stick up for myself and yell back, too weak to fix things. The mirror fills with steam as quickly as I fill with dread. I start undressing only able to see my body from a upper preview. For weeks I thought I was bloated, stressed out from my job and not working out. The normal protective pudge of my stomach has a small softball size curve that doesn’t move like the rest of me. It’s hard to suck in, and more prominent when I full relax. I don’t feel scared for myself, but scared of what I can offer. Alone, I’m barely able to remember to drink water but always remember to do the dishes before bed to make breakfast easier to have.
Lamenting through my own thoughts, I shake them away. There’s doctors to talk about this kind of thing, that’s what they’re there for. Support groups for mothers who don’t know what to do. The kids have taught me a lot but none of them except Erica were even under ten when we’d first met. When it’s your own child, it’s a whole different ball game. There will still be a team surrounding me even as the opponents team boo’s and hollers. Now it’s a waiting game to see if my pitcher is with me.
I like to think Billy is a good man, not by any means by himself. Repaired as many relationships as he could, hate who he was before. He thinks before acting but I’d seen that look before, anger is normally a response to a much deeper and complex feeling. Fear, frustration, sadness. He’s been taught his whole life that the answer is to push those other things away, make room for hate, bigotry and self preservation. While I grew up in a different way, in a different world. Built for me to fail, built for me to resent motherhood as the only outcome for my life. The only thing a woman is good at, but doesn’t receive the credit for only the blame and the hard work it takes. To be loved by the things you can create but not the person you are. Billy is just as scared as I am, but I will not be the one to fix this. I will not be alone.
Masterlist
#Billy Hargrove#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove x reader#dad!billy x mom!reader#billy hargrove x gf!reader#stranger things#stranger things smut#Fix it fanfiction
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