#Pastor Hargrove

[mega-delicatelysuperbcollector]

THANK YOU FOR ANOTHER DAY, GOD!

As Pastor Hargrove might say, Thank you for another day… In my right mind, A chance to be kind To people along my way! – Thank you for the chance, To pull up my own pair of pants…. I can self-care, My mind is still there Your universe is immense! – Lord, it’s a beautiful day, I want to follow Your way….. Teach me to love On earth like above, Your Spirit on earth…

[lorifragolina]

Anne with an E but make it Eddie with an E.

Eddie is a little trickster that comes with the train in the sleepy village. He wants to scam villagers but falls in love with their quiet life and eventually decides to stay.

There is his landlady Joyce Byers, the pastor Hopper in love with her, the pharmacist/barber Jason Carver, the farmer Steve harrington, the horseshoer Billy Hargrove, the teacher Crissy Cunningham. The siblings Will and Jane, who dream about frontier stories that Eddie makes up for them, Max the tomboy, Mike, Lucas and Dustin.

And uncle Wayne to whom Eddie wrote vivid letters about the village.

Probably not romantic. Just platonic kindred spirits

[gonegrove]

okay but billy having to go to church every sunday with the family because neil so decrees and it means he ends up in the same church as chrissy and jason. it’s a protestant church so his mother mary saint medallion hilariously marks billy out as the bad boy catholic doing christ by all the wrong rules. he’s not even actually religious it was just from his mother.

but anyway that’s where he really starts to put the moves on chrissy and they crack jokes about him being the most underwhelming bad boy because he’s a ~catholic ooo~ even tho there are dead ass grannies in the congregation scandalized that chrissy seems to be getting flirty with him (and okay maybe his patented mix of bad boy but not too bad really is doing it for her and the grannies’ horror is only helping. she’s a very sheltered girl alright?)

[tundrrra]

What is up with bitches who like Jason and their obsession with Billy fans? Like it does not lend anything to your argument about your “misunderstood” white boy.

The mental gymnastics they must perform to say that he is somehow better than billy are wild to me. Like not even his actor is on your side, move on hun.

[mrsblackruby]

Now we know why antis pine 4 Jason craver so much it’s cuz they would fund and attend his fundamentalist church💀

What the fuck lmao

I don't understand these people and... quite frankly I never want to.

[deedoop]

Revelations

Cw: Religious Themes

And I saw a beast rising out of the sea, with ten horns and seven heads, with ten diadems on its horns and blasphemous names on its heads.

He is the Antichrist. The one who burns everything he touches, even himself. Even those he loves. The mark of the beast is black, it oozes around his skin, burns in the cleansing light. Billy Hargrove had seen the beast, and the beast had been himself.

And the beast that I saw was like a leopard; its feet were like a bear's, and its mouth was like a lion's mouth

He had tried to fight it. How does one try and fight themselves? When every whisper the beast cooed lay in bare truth? 'Nobody's coming to save you Billy. Let the pain consume you. It'll all be over soon.' And all he could do was feel the hot tears of morality, the last of his fight, drip down what no longer was his face, felt what no longer were his hands kill and maim.

And to it the dragon gave his power and his throne and great authority.

His anger. His own pain. Rage was Billy's fuel, rage for this town, his father, his stepsister. Rage had made him a monster in his own right, the beast knew that, the beast Billy only knew by one name, the Antichrist. His own sick mind which no longer was his mind secretly relished in burning this world to the ground, to destroy all that had hurt him. God had denied him justice, had left him in the hands of a lesser devil, only to be taken and hollowed out by greater evil.

One of its heads seemed to have a mortal wound, but its mortal wound was healed, and the whole earth marveled as they followed the beast.

The army grew. The seals of damnation broken. Billy wondered if God would still let him into heaven. If He would understand he had tried to fight it, but he was so God damned tired of fighting. "Please Max..please you gotta believd me.." He was so tired. So fucking tired. His body no longer his body was moving, he tried, he really tried, prayed that Max could see it in his eyes that were no longer his eyes that he was still trying to fight. The tears that fell, the tears that were his tears, he hoped she knew was his.

And they worshiped the dragon, for he had given his authority to the beast, and they worshiped the beast, saying, “Who is like the beast, and who can fight against it?”

Billy had known only hate. Grew up with hate and anger, had only known happiness when an angel had walked beside him on the beach, an angel that abandoned him when she could see the true colors of his heart. Billy wondered if she had known his fate, had known he'd be the harbringer of this worlds doom. Even if she had, she had blessed him with hope, cursed him with it. A cherub rested in his arms, a girl with God's power. A cherub that touched his cheek like an angel had done so long ago. "Seven feet..you told her the wave was seven feet."

Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

Billy remembered this quote, something his pastor would say when he still attended church. His whole life he had fought, struggled. Now a cherub rested her hand against his cheek that was his cheek, felt his tears that was his tears. Billy had to fight. Just one more time. Hate and rage had consumed his heart like a vice, but now all he felt was love, even as the swords of the Devil stabbed into his sides, stabbed into his chest. He had fought. He had won..and for once Billy was free. He laid beside Max, wishing he had done more, been nicer, he hoped she understood. "Im sorry." And it was gospel. As he took his last holy breath, he thought of all the wrongs he did, what short life he had lived, but anger and pain did not fill his heart, nor did sorrow and regret. He stared up at his sister, whos hair was as red as the sun, she would have the life he never had, and she would be a harbringer of light.

[peculiarpatches]

𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆 - 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

Hello!!

 I’ve had this idea for awhile and decided ‘fuck it’ let’s write it. This is the prologue, so, there’s not much other than the main source and description of what the story is going to be about.  I would post the full story here, however, I just want to make sure people actually like it before I put it out there, haha. Either way - I do hope you like it! If you do, please like, comment and HELL - give me a few suggestions for other stories or what you’d like to see if you find yourself, enjoying this story. Thank you very much for reading :) It means the world to me. Much love, always. - cierra. x 

SIDENOTE: This story will contain both angst and smut. it’ll also feature triggering topics (abuse, both emotional and physical) so please be cautious when reading! also, female reader and features she/her pronouns. 

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                                                PROLOGUE. 

~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Billy Hargrove. Bringing his name up in a conversation always brought one of two different reactions.  For the girls, it'd cause their cheeks to bleed red and they'd chew on their bottom lip and twirl their stray pieces of hair in between their fingers, murmuring how attractive he was and what they'd do if he were to ask them out. (What they'd do if they were alone with him in the back of his car, too. (Y/N) heard plenty of that scenario. Way too many details, if you were to ask her.  She still cringes when she thinks about Margaret Adams going into full story mode of what she'd do to Billy and what she'd like for Billy to do to her. Margaret was the definition of innocent. Went to church every Sunday, prayed without being told to, always carried a bible with her, would blush when a boy - male teachers, included - glanced in her direction. She was one of those girls. So, when she told (Y/N) what she'd love to do to Billy and vice versa, it was shocking, to say the very least. Of course, the moment the sentence (well.... several sentences) leaves her mouth, Margaret turned her head to the side averting  her gaze, but the sudden rosiness of her cheeks gave her away. (Y/N) could tell her  blush was burning  through her cheeks and her face  was feeling like a hot oven. 

She probably felt like a  sinner, saying all those foul words and using such dirty language like that...  

Oh, how she curses herself for not being able to stop herself from the sinful thoughts that corrupted her mind. 

(Y/N) practically felt the embarrassment clouding over from Margaret and hovering above her  as she attempted to hide her rosy cheeks behind her skinny fingers. (Y/N) had to fight back a laugh, even though it wasn't so funny to poor Margaret who was still blushing a beet-red and trying to pull her long, wavy brown hair to hide her burning cheeks. 

(It didn't work out and eventually, with a huff, Margaret gave up and dropped her hands at her sides.) "It's fine," (Y/N) reassured with a gentle smile. "I was just curious as to what people really thought about him. I'm new here too, you know?" She said with a shrug. "And although I may not be as pretty as Hargrove, I do wish I was given some attention he receives." She laughs, thankful Margaret found it funny as well as she had started to giggle.  

"I just wanted to know why people are so star struck over him, that's all." She explained. Margaret, this time, shrugged in reply.  "Not sure myself." She admitted, the red to her cheeks only growing deeper as she admits this statement. "He's something else, though, right?" Margaret continued.  "Sure." (Y/N) grinned, though it was far from a real, genuine smile. "Anyways, I've got to get to class but thank you." As she gets up to leave, Margaret is quick with an, "Oh! Hey... don't tell Pastor  Jason about what I said, okay?" "I promise. Your secret is safe with me.") When his name would be brought up with the same sex as he, there was mixed signals.  "I don't see the big deal of Hargrove." one spat.  "He's a cool dude, I guess." another spoke. "If he comes anywhere near Sabrina, I'm going to fight him, no matter where I am or how much trouble I'll get into, that's my girl and I'm not having Billy try and snatch her away." a jealous boy with the name Tyler said.   (In the end, as one comes to find out, Sabrina broke up with Tyler for Billy.)  (Billy and her didn't last.)  (His relationships never do.)  (It was a lose-lose situation for Tyler and Sabrina.)  Billy Hargrove.  From what I've seen myself, and from all the stories that I overhear in the school cafeteria, he's one Hell of a guy. Good and bad. There's two sides to every story, isn't there?   (There's more bad than good, so I've heard.)   This being said, that's what I've come to do — give a story to those curious about Billy Hargrove.  Who is he? Really? Behind that smirk he wears proudly against his lips — what goes on behind closed doors? (Other than the obvious hook up's.)  Does this man actually have a heart towards other people or does he only give a shit about himself? I have no idea. Nobody does.  I guess what I'm trying to say here is.... if nobody's going to ask questions, I might as well try and seek out the answers myself.  Nothing else interesting has happened in Hawkins, Indiana until Billy and his family have moved in.   It's Indiana, for fuck sake's. Not shit is interesting and the only entertaining thing that was going on was Billy and watching him from afar like he was the main character in a movie.  To Billy, more than likely, it was his world and we were all just his side characters, living in it.  Not anymore.  I've acted before. Won a few awards and ribbons for my acting skills, actually. (Not to brag.)  So, I can gladly pretend to love Billy Hargrove - the most  selfish and mysterious man  there  is in Hawkins, Indiana.  What's the worst that could happen?

Again, nothing else interesting happens in this town. Why not play pretend and see what he’s all about? 

Yes, I’m well aware too; Curiosity killed the cat. But, satisfaction brought it back. 

[hargrove-mayfields]

No, see, this is the point where I now come into your ask box /begging/ you to give me even a single religious Neil headcannon in exchange for my entire heart ❤️🤲

Ahh thank you for the ask! I’ve been wanting to ramble abt this! Here’s a few hcs for you!

-The number one most important one I think is that Billy is left handed. We all know the association between left handed folks and the devil and it would tick Neil off to no end when they notice that little Billy is tying his shoes left handed and picking up crayons and sippy cups with his left hand, so he trains Billy to use the right one instead through typical Neil fashion. His mother never let Neil hit him but he definitely scared him through threats of it, and when that doesn’t work he breaks his left arm so he can’t use it and pretends it was just an accident. Billy learns his lesson and starts forcing himself to use the right hand, but because of the constant focus on using the wrong hand or facing the consequences he develops pretty bad dyslexia. If you’ve got dyslexia you can’t read the Bible, so Neil tries everything he can to cure him of it (making Billy pray it away, forcing him into every educational church related program he can find, beating it out of him) but it only makes it worse. It takes him years after moving out of Neil’s place to be comfortable using his left hand for anything and even then he’s still mostly ambidextrous because there’s some things he just can’t shake using the right for.

-They have bibles literally everywhere in the Hargrove-Mayfield house. One on every bookshelf, in every drawer, on every side table, and whenever Billy or Max get in trouble for minor things they get verses read to them (in Billys case because of the dyslexia he has to read them himself and it always goes terribly) and forced to apologize to whoever is punishing them, whoever they wronged, and to God.

-Their church had a pastor who tried to be like, very hip with the kids but he was truly a nasty s.o.b under the surface. Neil was very close friends with this dude so he was able to get Billy one-on-one sessions with him after the church cleared out, and they are, very tough to sit through because he’s got this facade of being Billy’s friend, but he’s saying terrible things about him because of who he is (I hc that Billy outed himself before he realized the consequences of it as a little, little kid) and it’s so confusing to him that he ends up just bawling his eyes out after every one. His faith in the church is shaky at best, but he really internalizes a lot of what that man says to him because of the way he presents it. When the pastor moves on to another church and they get this new old guy in who’s genuinely really nice, Billy's still terrified of him regardless and sits through every service unable to look to the front.

-Bible school was absolutely mandatory. Most kids would go to have fun, but Billy didn’t like the church, and he couldn’t really click with the other kids. Making a prayer pillow and listening to the creepy kid friendly songs and reading in the Jonah and the whale tent just wasn’t cool and exciting like it was to his peers and he feels so isolated. So he sneaks off to go chill in the nursery where he can be alone and it’s not suffocating and crowded, but Neil wants updates since he can’t be there, and he knows Billy’s lying about attending because he asked the ladies in charge of it. As punishment for blowing off what he considered the easy route to teaching Billy the right path to take, Billy winds up enrolled in church camp.

-Church camp sucks. A lot. It’s marketed as being a fun outdoorsy getaway but it’s a lot deeper than that for kids who don’t have a normal relationship with their religion, and especially not for kids whose counselors know they’re gay. It’s basically torture, being away from home in a secluded place where literally around him treats him like a freak because they all know his secret. It’s like, during worship times it feels like everyone’s staring at him, and nobody eats with him in the mess hall and he’s got a bunk bed all to himself because no one else is allowed to share with him and it’s awful. When he gets to come back home he breaks down hard, and Neil is smug as all hell that it had made him that miserable. Billy starts pretending then and there that he’s changed, because he knows the next step would be conversion therapy and what he’s been through was bad enough, so he basically hides away anything that was left of his personality after church camp. For the first time ever Neil’s proud of him.

-Whenever Billy would get in big trouble he’d pretend to pray. Hide in his room and get on his knees at the foot of his bed because his dad wouldn’t hit him if he’s praying, right? Wrong. Neil started making him say his prayers out loud, and he’d stand in the door and wait for Billy to do it right. It makes the whole thing that much more unpleasant because now he knows what was inevitably coming when he got through with it, and he’d only get in more trouble if he stalled. Neil isn’t stupid either, he knows that Billys just trying to buy himself some time and he doesn’t truly mean what he’s saying, so once Billys got his punishment he makes him pray again through his tears. Just to drive the point home.

-Neil definitely made the kids do the annual Easter Pageant when they were little. It was humiliating for Billy, getting put in a reused costume and having to tell the story that’s been used against him so much. All the old church ladies fussing over how cute he is, standing up on the grassy hillside to be gawked at while Susan insisted on snapping picture after picture of her new step son even though he didn’t have any lines. It’s all just way too much. By the time he’s old enough to refuse doing it anymore Neil accuses him of tearing the family apart, ruining their traditions, embarrassing them in front of their community, but he stands his ground, and they all watch Max perform in her little angel costume, and Billy gets his ass beat as soon as it’s over.

-Their church used to have annual holiday parties for stuff like Christmas, Halloween, and Easter, and that was the only time Billy ever had any fun when it came to his religion. They weren’t the greatest little parties but there were some really tasty baked goods and the games were kind of fun because there was no underlying biblical message behind like, carrying a ping pong ball across the room with a spoon and pin the tail on the donkey. Neil doesn’t approve of them though, thinks they distract from what the church should be teaching, and Billy and Max are forbidden from going to them.

-As time goes on Billy still goes to church every Sunday and attends the holiday services but he’s not forced into the extracurriculars anymore because he’s a lot better at acting and following the rules. But I think the worst part would be that he would truly want to believe in God. Of course he’d be bitter that he’d been forced to go through so much abuse at the hands of someone who claimed to be religious, but deep down he knows that isn’t what it’s about and he doesn’t want to have to pretend that there’s something for him to believe in. He genuinely wants to believe that there’s hope for better things and someone looking out for him, but there’s just so much trauma associated with his faith that he can’t, no matter how hard he tries, and if not for everything else he did, he hates Neil so much for ruining that for him.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

There are a lot of things Billy hates about his dad.

Like his temper, for one.

Or his unpredictable moods.

He hates the insults and cruel words, all the hypocritical lectures, the sneer reserved specifically for him. He hates that it has always been so easy for his dad to hurt him, like he'd much rather hit him than hug him.

And he hates the way all of it makes him feel; powerless, humiliated, angry.

Alone.

But the thing he hates the most about Neil Hargrove, is that he seems to be the only one that does.

Back in California, everyone saw him as a hard working, god fearing, would help anyone with anything, kind of man. The kind of man people liked to linger around after church to talk to. The kind of man that held doors for women and always had a friendly smile. The kind of man everyone trusted.

Back in California he had everybody fooled.

And now it's happening here.

In Hawkins.

And he'd made quick work of it too.

By the end of day one, he had Mrs. Andrews from next door all dewy eyed for him. By week two he'd spoken with or exchanged pleasantries with half of the adults in the town. By the third Sunday he had the local pastor inviting him to lunch after service.

And by month four he'd established his role in the community, seamlessly playing the part of doting husband to Susan and loving father to him and Max, friendly neighbor, upstanding citizen.

Outside of these walls he is regarded favorably. A fine example of Hoosier hospitality, the kind of neighbor everyone wants.

And Billy is…

Billy is just his rebellious teenage son.

A delinquent that smokes too much, parties too hard, drives too fast, and listens to the kind of music these hicks want to drag him to church over.

Billy is the kind of boy most adults roll their eyes at, scoff at, whisper about, want to protect their daughters from. Because he's the kind of boy their daughters swoon over, a lover of sex, violence, and rock-n-roll.

The kind of boy their daughters should stay away from, but won't because they haven't figured out how little he fucking cares about what's beneath their clothes.

The kind of boy that answers verbal quips with his fists, shows up to school with busted lips and hidden scars.

A trouble maker.

He's the kind of boy that's simultaneously impossible and incredibly easy to ignore.

And god, it's been like this ever since his mom left, and not once has anyone answered his obvious cries for help, so he's given up.

Lost hope.

No one will ever see behind Neil's mask, behind Billy's mask.

So Billy will keep playing the part of the rebellious, disrespectful, son, because if everyone else is acting and refusing to look behind the scenes, he might as well just accept the role he's been given.

And as much as he hates his dad for the stage he's set for this family, he hates himself more for just bowing his head and following his lead.

Next

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 009

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Making some good headway with this fic so new chapter!! Revenge is a dish best served cold. Forgiveness is warm. Billy and Evie make some more progress. LONG chp! Enjoy!! TW: Student/teacher relationship. Sexual refs. Abuse warning. Gaslighting.

TAGLIST OPEN!! Chat with me about this couple :))

Chapter 9: Everything Is Blue

   “How much did she want?” Heather asked, crossing into the bedroom with a giant bowl of popcorn.

   “She heard my voice and said she’d do it for free after Billy gave her two hundred that night. I think we should still give her something.” Evie was sitting on Heather’s bed so her friend joined. Billy leaned back in the desk chair across the way, eyes flickering all over Heather's royal bedchamber.

   “Told you I gave the money away.” He muttered.

   “Where did the rest go? You got three hundred.” Popcorn crunched.

   He looked down with this somber shrug.

   “I gave Brock’s date a ride home. She was waiting for a taxi and, I don’t know, she looked scared.”

   “His fourteen year old date.” Evie remarked. Poor girl. Probably took her just because he could get away with it.

   “What!” Heather almost dropped the entire bowl. “What a disgusting-”

   “Yeah.” Evie shook her head.

   “I gave her the rest, felt like shit.” Billy finished, eyes meeting Evie’s when he looked up. She peered aside in a flash.

   “So, Brock goes to church every Sunday if you can believe it with his parents and girlfriend. Her folks too since her dad’s the pastor. Usually gets out just after noon. People linger outside, you know, to catch up. I think that’s when you want to move in on the guy. Right in front of everyone before he can run off with his dick friends.” Heather offered the bowl to Evie so she could munch on some.

   “It’ll work. Bubbles was all too excited to play actress.” Evie smiled, cocking her head so Billy would cross to eat with them. He sat on the end of the bed. Peeked at Heather before grabbing some popcorn. 

   “Tommy didn’t question why I asked for her number, he’s not a fan of Brock either anymore.” Billy licked his thumb. “Apparently, they figured he paid her and he got disqualified last minute. He gave Bubbles thirty just to show up so he’s broke now.”

   “Tommy and Carol hate what you hate.” Heather rolled her eyes.

   “That too.” Billy gestured and grabbed more popcorn, chewing. Weird to be sitting around like they were something close to friends. Revenge brought people together. 

   “If he sees us, he’ll know something’s up.” Evie spoke. “I don’t think Tannen sticks around after church though. Maybe we need someone in his circle to distract him long enough for Bubbles to make her move once everyone is out in the open. He’ll definitely run the second he sees her show up. She told me the outfit she was going to wear. Whew, it’ll be something.” 

   “Might be weird if I show up. I mean, our parents run in the same groups and they get along...but I make it obvious I hate him.”

   “Turn him down a lot?” Billy pulled at his tee.

   “Once a week, at least.” Heather reclined to think.

   “Who else do we know that’s rich and unsuspecting?” Evie set the bowl aside, glancing around at Heather’s walls covered in cut out magazines. They looked at each at the same time.

   “I got it!” 

   Both girls peered at Billy’s confused face before he appeared disgusted.

   “Oh, no. Not him.”

   “Time for you two to suck it up and get along.” Evie got up to grab Heather’s phone. “I think I remember his number.”

   “...How’s that?” Billy's interest piqued.

   “He’s been a gentleman and giving Evie rides to school when I can’t.” Heather saw Billy’s brow twitch at that. Smiled wider.

   “Steve, hey.” Evie said into the phone. “Sorry, I’m calling from Heather's. I wanted to ask a favor, can you meet us here at her place?” A beat before she laughed. “Yeah, it's top secret.” Evie bit her lip and Billy huffed to himself. “Sure, see you in five.”

   She hung up.

   “On the way.”

   “I’m still hungry, let’s order Chinese." Heather perked up. "I know what you like, Eve. Billy will get what I order and like it."

   "Yes, ma'am."

   "Be back. My folks left money on the fridge.” She sat up to go. "We'll feast. It's a possible last supper."

   “Extra spicy, please.” Evie grinned as Heather walked out. Leaving her and Billy alone there. Slowly, she came back to sit on the bed. “So.”

   “You seem more excited about the revenge than I am now.” He leaned in to catch her eyes. 

   “Might be nice to see that asshole fall apart for ten seconds.” She shrugged, legs crossing to settle her hands in her lap.

   “Hey,” Billy uttered even softer, one leg on the bed, “you’re still here with me.”

   Eyes panned to meet.

   “I am.” Evie almost seemed to realize it too.

   “Why’s that?” A dry curl fell into his face. Billy searched her and Evie didn’t peer away.

   “Already told you, my calendar’s open too.” Evie looked fluttered at him. Thought of confetti falling when Billy curved toward her. One hand pressed on the bed and Evie turned her head last minute. 

   “Hey, he got here quick. Food’s on the...way.” Heather paused with Steve Harrington behind her. Billy and Evie shot back from each other.

   “Him?” Steve had flared, pushing his initial confusion aside. “Hell no.”

   “Round two, Harrington?” Billy stood up. Revved.

   “I am not sitting in a room with this asshole.” Steve shot back.

   “Easy, easy. Let us explain.” Heather touched Steve’s chest.

   Explaining didn’t help because Steve pounced on Billy before they’d even gotten to the revenge part. Knocked the broad boy off the bed into the carpet.

   “Man, you’re sick!”

   Billy was snarling under him. Not actually moving to hit back when Steve’s fist cocked.

   “Stop it!” Evie grabbed Steve’s arm to pull him off. “Hey! We’re here to get Tannen back! Steve!” 

   He paused to look at her. Straddling Billy with one hand clutching his tee. Got shoved off. Heather rushed to pull Steve up with Evie. Billy stumbled backwards to his feet after.

   “Trying to make it right.” He heaved out, palm smoothing his shirt.

   “I spent a night in the fucking hospital because of you,” Steve seethed, “but bringing Evie into that shit? You had no right.”

   “Not asking for forgiveness, I’m just-”

   “You should be on your fucking knees begging her for it!” Steve burst out. Evie touched his shoulder again.

   “Look, I haven’t...forgiven it."

   "No, he's right. Evie." Billy sunk to his knees. The saturated colors of him glimmering there. Evie's brow jumped as he grabbed her hand. "I'm on my knees in front of Heather...and Heather's acquaintance."

   Steve went flat.

   "Asking forgiveness. I haven't earned it, but I'll stay here and beg for it." Billy's low baritone shook her knees. Big, bright eyes that melted her down. "Please, Evangeline."

   "Jesus Christ." Steve's arms crossed, eyes rolling. Heather snickered to herself and Evie gave that usual scrunching look. The one that made Billy smile.

   "Easy, boy. On your feet."

   "As you wish." A smirk danced and Billy rose. Evie had to take a breath and compose herself, turning aside. Billy still had her hand so she snatched it to function again. 

   "I’m not letting him off. But, Tannen manipulated us both and I see that. I’m doing this for the other girls, he needs to be taken down a peg. Ignore Billy and his camp while we do this.” Evie reasoned, meeting Steve's eyes. Shoulders falling. “You can help us get him back.”

   Steve looked between her and Billy.

   “Okay.” He sighed. “Okay. I’ll help you out. What did you need me to do?”

   “We might need some of that Keg King flare back.” Evie nudged him.

   Steve laughed at that. A small sound as he scratched the back of his head.

   “Might be able to fake it.”

** ** **

   A plan was set. Strange still to be sitting around a diner table the next day with this group. Drinking cold beverages in the winter. Almost friends. Big question mark. Unlikely allies. Heather drove them out because her car was the least suspecting. 

   “How’re we doing on time?” Evie leaned over to see Billy’s wrist. Sipped a chocolate milkshake because she had a craving and plucked the shiny cherry up to put it between her teeth.

   He was too busy watching that to tell time. Her tongue sliding over the juicy, artificial red of the fruit before she plucked the stem to chew.

   “Hey, I’m just gonna guess that’s your friend.” Steve cocked his perfectly styled head in the direction of the window. Bubbles lingered there, unsure if she should come in. Coat pulled close over her dress and tights. Heavy makeup illuminated her entire face. Evie hopped up with a smile.

   “Just in time.” She clicked out to grab the older woman’s hand and pull her inside. “I ordered you some fries, wanted you to eat something.” A basket full of hot gold was set down. Billy scooted over a chair so Bubbles could sit, smashing her cigarette out. 

   “You brought a cute friend, sweetie pie.” Came the happy rasp.

   Billy lifted his head to beam and sunk when he saw her instead pinching Steve’s cheeks pink. Heather covered her lips giggling, but Steve liked it because for once, Billy wasn’t getting the attention.

   “So, you wanna get this guy bad, huh?” Bubbles was reaching for the ketchup to feed herself. “Least Tommy was nice to me, not handsy like the others there.”

   “Brock’s reputation is everything. We embarrass him in front of his people, that’ll burn. Really play it up.” Evie crossed her arms over the table.

   “Oh, I know exactly what to do. Gimme a ring if it works. We’ll all want to disappear quick after. My car’s around back. Seemed like a fun gig. I always wanted to be an actress.” Bubbles gestured with a fry and bit into it. 

   “Here’s for helping us. Means a lot strangely.” Heather offered a couple bills.

   “I like you kids. Sticking it to the man as they say.” A shrug followed. “I saw that man’s date. She looked like my daughter. We don’t speak anymore. Happy to help knock an asshole off the saddle.” 

   “Tannen’s eighteenth birthday was last week. They had this massive party at his dad’s biggest casino. Glad my parents already had plans or they would have made an appearance.” Heather made a face. “His girlfriend’s sweet, maybe she’ll dump his ass finally.”

   “Almost showtime,” Steve perked, “look across the street.”

   Bodies in their Sunday best. Rich folk meandering around the front doors. Expensive cars crossing.

   “You’re up, Steve. Go bump into an old rival. Shoot the shit.” Evie gestured. “Bubbles will follow your cue. Get out of there once she’s close.”

   “I hope your boy is ready for this.” Bubbles stood while Steve chuckled on the way out, fluffing his hair. Her bracelets and necklaces clicked together. Hands adjusting her bra crudely. A wink and she strutted out too.

   “Let’s get better seats, ladies.” Billy lit a quick cigarette. Made his way out before Heather swiped it to puff too. Billy didn’t fight her on that. Evie trailed behind them. Eyes on the pastel crowds. Men in khaki and women playing a game of ‘my obnoxiously decorated hat is better than yours.

   Frozen streets that made the bright colors even more annoying.

   The trio hid around a building across the way. Leaning into a fire escape. Saw Steve swaggering like he was out for a Sunday stroll in the rich area of this town.

   “Hey, Tannen, that you? Long time no see, man.” Steve cocked his head to flash that winning smile.

   Brock covered his disinterest with one that matched.

   “Stevie boy. Didn’t know you still hung around these parts.”

   “Where else would I get my hair products?” Fingers swept his voluminous mane.

   “Not like Hawkins has a lot to offer, I guess. I hear they’re building a fancy mall.”

   “Should give us something to do this summer.” Steve shrugged.

   “I missed my shot at you in those last few games.” Brock’s arms crossed. He touched his chest where the silver charm used to sit.

   “Ah, yeah. Wasn’t for me anymore.” Steve’s brow quirked. Tannen’s girlfriend and his parents weren’t far behind. Making nice with the pastor. 

   “Hargrove said something similar. True about you guys?”

   “Yeah, I heard some wild stuff about you though. Some tiff the football players like to reenact with that girl. Pretty one. You on the floor wailing, the details escaped me.” Steve laughed for effect and Brock joined him. Artificial overlapping sounds. “Well, so great to catch up.”

   “Say hi to your old man for us. I know he’s busy with work and his secretary.” Brock’s lips lifted in an empty fashion. “Love to catch up with the folks. Especially when those college letters come in. We’ll be having a party or two to celebrate me getting into Stanford. Where all did you apply again?”

   Steve’s smile faltered.

   “Pshh. So many places.” Steve patted his back. “See you around, man. I’ll let our football team know I ran into you. You're their favorite subject.”

   “Right.” Brock narrowed as Steve went around him. Tried to puff his chest out and intimidate. "Yeah, why don't you make like a tree, and get out of here?"

   Steve hitched this breathless laugh and caught himself. Jesus fucking Christ. Instead he winked with a finger gun.

   "I'm gonna do just that, Tannen. Don't ever change, ya hear?"

   He went into the crowd, leaving Brock to feel great about himself.

   The prick didn’t hear the peppy clicking.

   Ruby red curtains parted somewhere. An overture bloomed. Show time.

   “Brock, baby! It is you? Hey-a, honey pie.” Bubbles opened her animal print jacket to flash a bright pink ruched mini dress. “You didn’t forget about me, did ja? I can barely walk.”

   She grabbed his face in front of everyone. Smacked a Barbie pink kiss into his mouth. Moaned. 

   “Oh, baby, I had such a great time last night. You’re an animal.”

   Across the way, Evie was leaning into Heather to laugh. Barely able to stay upright. Brock reached into his mouth and pulled a wad of chewing gum out.

   He hadn’t been chewing it a moment ago.

   Frantic hands wiped his lips off.

   “Evie, your new friend is my hero.” Heather cackled. Smacking at Steve’s chest when he appeared behind them. Bubbles was talking animatedly. Clinging as Brock tried to push her off and explain to his family behind him. 

   “Oh, his girlfriend’s about to blow. Look at her face. I feel almost bad now.” Evie shifted back to touch Billy’s arm. Blue eyes turned to see her nails. Painted a fresh rose red.

   As if he felt it, Brock’s head snapped in their direction.

   They all ducked behind a dumpster. Evie pressed into Billy’s side.

   “He see us?” Heather muttered.

   A commotion built as Bubbles flashed her wiles and clicked off. Practically skipping. Leaving Brock in a pastel lion’s den. Jesus himself wasn’t coming to save him. 

   “Don’t feel bad. It’s open season and Tannen’s not winter surviving material.” Billy remarked, peeking again. "Look at their parents. Fuck."

   “We should jet, this guy’s about to explode.” Steve pulled them to stay down and race toward the other end of the alleyway. “The gum was genius.”

   “I think his mom fainted into the pastor.” Heather laughed, unlocking her car.

   “Let’s get out of here.” Evie stole the passenger seat, leaving Steve and Billy to glare at each other in back. “Let’s see him explain his way out of that.” She waved to Bubbles appearing down the block.

   “You guys want to hit up a movie or something? There’s no way I’m going to sit at home after that.” Heather turned the key so they could go. Evie looked around. Smiled genuinely.

   “Actually, that sounds great. I’d kill for some sour patch kids.��� She was mid turn to see the boys before Steve jumped to attention. Eyes wide at something beyond the front windshield.

   “Guys! Problem.” He reeled to point. A sleek black car screeched around the corner. Not bothered by the cold in his fury, Brock clicked the roof to come down and stood. Shouted something unintelligible.

   “Ah, shit. Heather, go!” Evie gestured until their little silver car skidded to turn down the street. “Drive.” There was some yelling in the backseat as Billy was tossed into Steve. Having not put his seat belt on.

   “Ack, get off me, you damn brick...” Steve shoved the puffing boy away. Forced Billy into the seat and pulled his belt over. Got smacked off so Billy could click it in. 

   “He’s following, Heather!”

   “I’m trying! I’m not prepared for a race today.” She peeled out through an alley back to the road. “I’m not getting pulled over for this asshole!” Her cheeks flushed red like a pair of cherries. Whipping around the next corner with Tannen in hot pursuit, probably freezing because his roof was still down.

   “Hey, hey, there!” Billy leaned in to grasp Heather’s seat.

   “I’m not gonna make that.” Heather panicked at a soil truck backing up toward a garden being constructed. Ready to block the way.

   “Wanna bet? Punch it.” He gripped tight as Heather’s poor car revved forth. Weaving between vehicles and behind the beeping truck. Evie idly grabbed Billy’s arm turning to see Brock on their tail. 

   No way he was going to make it.

   Heather hit the brake to stop at the next red light. They all whirled to see him. Chickening out, Tannen’s car swerved to a hard stop. Bumming into the back of a rickety truck on its side. Scratching paint and denting metal in.

   “Holy shit.” Steve gasped out. "Are we dead?"

   Brock was still raging at them when the back of the truck burst open. Sending a pile of filth into his open expensive car. Billy about howled. The upset teen was buried until he had to spit it out of his mouth. Profanities whirling as the driver came around to scold him aimlessly.

   “That's...manure…” Evie realized. More laughter echoed through the car. Heather turned back to follow traffic off. “We are dead, aren't we?”

   “We’ll just look out for the jerk. He’s got brain cells in the negative.” Heather had replied, reaching to turn her Madonna tape on. Billy sat back with a groan.

   “Oh, I love this one.” Steve spoke over him, earning a look. "With Brock in deep shit...literally, his dad will be on him. The team's gonna love this one."

   They drove from the city. Left Brock Tannen to stew in his own mess.

   “Did you see his face when he pulled that gum from his mouth?” Evie chattered still. “His parents are gonna have him on lock down. No credit cards. No dates. Nothing. It's beautiful.”

   “You're hot when you’re plotting someone’s downfall and reaping the benefits.” Billy scooted to lean between the seats.

   “Ugh, sit back.” Heather grimaced, switching lanes. Billy peered at Evie’s profile and reclined. “Movie offer is off, we almost died.”

   “You guys think Tannen is scrubbing himself of shit right now?” Steve piped up. Billy actually gave a snort at his rival. Faces went flat as they glanced at each other.

   “Might as well throw the damn car away.” He’d added. Steve smirked a little and stifled it. This is the guy who busted his face open a couple months ago.

   “Probably trying to explain himself as we speak. I hope he likes being single.” Evie played with the zipper on her jacket. “Four of us didn’t make a half bad team.”

   “Admit it, I’m growing on you. I pressed you into this, Angel.” Billy got sly. Stared and knew she felt his eyes. Another laugh with an inch of sarcasm.

   “Hard pass. I'm the evil genius here.”

** ** **

   Word spread about Brock Tannen’s mishap in front of the holy father. His retaliation hadn’t come, being in trouble with his rich parents. No one knew about the four who kick started it. But, the legend would live on.

   Evie had more glowing news. She’d made it two weeks without eating foreign objects. There wasn’t an empty feeling, not yet.

   Maybe it was an odd phase. And she could stop.

   Because she was in control and could stop whenever she wanted. This wasn't a problem.

   February started off even colder than January. All the snow that melted was back with a vengeance. Even the ponds and lakes in the area froze over. Stilled in wait.

   “Your 18th birthday is at the end of this month.” Fredrick spoke while he set a plate down. Cheese and mushroom pasta. Evie thanked him quietly. Bowers seemed happier about the upcoming festivities than she did.

   “Mom’s already planning a surprise party I’m not supposed to know about.” A giggle followed. Secret date Friday night, first day of the welcomed midwinter break. Evie wore a pretty dress with something lace underneath.

   “I just wondered if you considered your options.” He even poured her white wine. Tall glass.

   “Options?” A fire crackled in the living room. Hard sounds she felt in her bones somehow.

   “You and I.” Fredrick went on. “If you wanted to go. Start our lives that we talked about. These dreams we had for months, we talked and now...it just feels so close.” 

   Evie almost dropped her fork. Saw his eyes dip to see.

   “Sorry, it’s sudden. Ah, I can’t drop out of high school, you know. Didn’t we always talk about how important my education was?” She paused quicker. “But, I thought about it. Us.”

   That was a lie. Not while Billy Hargrove was batting his lashes at her locker every day. Snapping at anyone who dared to speak down to her. Groveling. Joking like they might be friends. Flirting endlessly. Billy and those iridescent eyes ruining her with their glitter.

   This game they played where she hid smiles until he walked away.

   “No, you're right. It was foolish that I even pressed it. I shouldn’t hope for you to…ah, well.” He only smiled. “This summer. I could relocate and you could come with me. You'd like to get away, wouldn't you?”

   “My mom and I have all these plans to get my music out.”

   “You can still sing your songs with me, Evie. You know, your mother wouldn’t understand us if you came with me. I think it would be best for some distance. She’d have time to come around to the idea. Understand that you're happy with me. You are happy with me, aren't you?”

   "Of course, I am. You put me back together."

   Bowers loved that and sipped some wine. Evie stared at her plate and felt something well that took her appetite away.

   “I love you," he professed, "I will marry you. Do this right. But, I’ve waited quite a long time, Evie. I hope you understand that.”

   She brought her hand up to her cheek in a motion like she was comforting a baby. Something she'd picked up since eating these things she shouldn't have.

   “I do. I…”

   “And you’re always saying your mother doesn’t understand. She keeps things from you. I just hate to see her hurting you. Neglecting you. You deserve so much better.” Fredrick shook his head. Sighed like it was truly unfortunate.

   Poor Evie with no one. No one, but him.

   “She tries, she’s just hurting after the divorce. She’s not good at…”

   "It feels like she doesn't even want you some days, isn't that what you said?"

   "I was just mad at her over it all. We don't really fight." Her protest came out weak.

   “Your father can’t even be bothered to call his amazing daughter. Can’t man up and explain. It breaks my heart.”

   “My dad...loves me.” Evie said a little snippier than intended. Trying to convince herself too. Jack Fenny was always holding her. Kissing her forehead and rubbing her back. Protecting her from thunder storms. Evie sighed and blurted something else. “I kissed someone else.”

   “What?” Bowers paused, lowering his fork.

   “A boy. Well, he kissed me.”

   “I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” Fredrick offered that sweetly.

   “He’s been a real jerk and I think he was just playing with me. But, now I think he was really trying to make it up to me."

   "He forced you?"

   "No, I kissed back and I didn’t tell you because it didn’t mean anything. It didn't.” She told herself that once a day thinking about it.

   Billy’s moans into ruby gemstone lips. His hands under her shirt. Hot.

   “Evie. It’s fine. You’re allowed to have those teenage experiences. Frankly, I’ve told you to be open. It’ll help us go unnoticed.” A beat. “Did you sleep with this person?”

   “No."

   "Do you want to?"

   "No! Never.” She laughed, eyes elsewhere as if she’d also never thought of it.

   As if she didn't think about Billy's fingers and his tongue and how he'd devour her. How he'd spell the word Angel between her spread thighs.

   How wet it made her to consider it while she sat at the table with the god damn teacher she was fucking.

   “I won’t be upset if you do.” Fredrick caught her eyes again. The pupils blew.

   “No, I’m with you. It’s you and I. Like we planned.” She shook her head. A grin followed Fredrick’s lips. Pride. “We can talk about summer, I just think…we should do it carefully.”

   “You’re right. I won’t push you. Can’t blame me for wanting you, Evie. You're like a drug.” His tone was more so unsettling.

   She blushed there. Drank her full glass of wine down. Head spinning. Stood to cross and plucked up his glass to down it too. Fredrick watched. Pleased. Enchanted.

   Then, she leaned down to kiss him. Hands on his face. Edging into his lap to tug so he'd take her to bed.

   Bowers forgot his meal was there. Got up still kissing her to lead them off.

   "I want you to fuck me." She asked like a grown woman. Lashes fluttering and flushed from the wine sloshing in her belly. His thumb pushed into her teeth. Faces close.

   "Really asking for it, huh?"

   One hard shove sent her into the bed. Evie felt drunk finally, wobbling to turn with her fingers smoothing over the cotton blankets. A neutral expression crossed her face. Eyes drew to an decorative plant in the corner.

   It badly needed water. Once shiny green leaves drooped a dry brown. Poor thing.

   Evie couldn't stop thinking about it.

   Poor thing.

   Weight shifted and he was over her. Whispering naughty things.

   His shadow stretched until she was lost to it.

** ** **

   Evie was home just before dark. Sore and holding her coat close. Walking down Cherry Lane, a car hood smacked shut. Billy peered up at her there, wiping his deft hands on a rag.

   “Too cold to be working on your car.”

   “My baby gets what she needs when she needs it.” He winked, tongue sweeping. Eyes scanned her outfit and this empty expression crossed. “Don’t need to ask where you’ve been.”

   “No, you don’t.” Evie crossed her arms tighter until her coat sleeves rode up along her wrists. Watched Billy pull his cigarettes out to light one. Smoke puffed and he narrowed on her again.

   “The fuck is that?” Billy was crossing, jerking Evie’s arm out to pull the sleeve down before she could react. A chill seeped. Violet and rose flower petal like bruises on her forearm and wrists. Splotchy and discolored already. “He do that to you?”

   “I didn’t even notice it.” She yanked away. “It’s nothing.”

   “Gets rough in the sack. Trying new things because he has a bouncy, cool girl. Or one who acts the part. It's not you, Evie.” Billy inhaled to flick his ashes.

   She didn’t move. Just stared at his eyes. Wondered if Billy thought less of her. She hoped he didn't.

   “Plenty of people like it rough.” Evie scoffed. “He worries about me when I leave.”

   “He worries you might spill the truth to someone. Grabs to make the point. And it sticks long after. Literally.”

   Evie blinked. Went around him.

   “See you later.”

   “You bet.” Billy turned and watched her before leaning against his car. Evie snuck in and heard her mother’s chattering into the phone. More ice up her spine with the low tone.

   “Yes, I got it. I don’t want your money, Jack. I told you. Leave us alone.”

   “Mom?” Evie gasped it, hurrying into the kitchen to see her mother slam the phone down. Crumbing a letter in her dainty fingers. “Was that dad?”

   “No, baby, just calling your aunts to let them know I’m headed out.”

   “But, I heard you. I heard you say his name.” Evie pressed. “Did he ask to talk to me?”

   “Evie, it was nothing, baby.” Mona hurried around her to toss the envelope into the fire. “Make sure this goes out before you go to sleep tonight. I left money on the fridge and we’re stocked up for the week. Salon will be fine and call if they think they need some extra hands.”

   “Mom, I know that was dad. Why are you lying to me?”

   “Evie, I’m not going to discuss this. I’m already late to the airport. My taxi’s pulling up.”

   “No! Tell me the truth. What’s going on?” Evie had her mother’s luggage so Mona pulled for it. Yanking her daughter to the door. “Mom!” She hated that tears burned her eyes. “Stop lying to me! What’s going on with dad?”

   “He doesn’t want us, Evie!” Mona huffed like it truly pained. And it did. “We just have to be fine with that. Sometimes, the Lord tests us. We endure.”

   “So, we just don’t talk about it?” Evie tugged again. Flaring up. "We don't talk about anything that isn't pretty!"

   “Your daddy was a godless man!" Mona burst. "I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

   “Again?”

   “Evie, I’m late, baby, I love you. Don’t do this.” Mona pulled her bag free and grabbed her coat. Clicking down the stairs.

   “My father loves me!” Evie called after her, stepping onto the porch. Mona’s shoulder rose as she crossed down and ignored it. Got into the taxi as fast as she could so they skidded off.

   Evie puffed there. Wiped her sleeves on her wet cheeks.

   “Evie?” Max had joined Billy on the sidewalk. Conversation disrupted by the drama at the Fenny house. Evie exhaled cold and blinked until her makeup started to run. Sniffling. “You okay?”

   “Y-Yeah, fine.” She saw Billy step toward her and scurried back inside. Listened to the fire crackle some and went to her room. Unable to breathe right, hands felt around the bookcase. All the trinkets waiting. 

   She thought of Fredrick and his hands squeezing. In bed. Ropes. All the fucking orders he coos in her ear. Her head spinning and it's not enough to take her away. Not enough for her to dream deeper. Those hands. Yanking as she’s trying to leave to warn her against letting their secret out.

   But, he loved her too much. That's all. Emotional repetition. 

   Thought of Mona unable to look at her so often. Unable to notice her unraveling and speak of it. Paint a happy face. 

   Thought of lightning cracking to underscore a boom of weighty thunder. Palms on her legs.

   Not that kind of girl.

   Evie covered her ears.

   “Stop crying!” She wept with trembling lips. Too many hands roamed her body in darkness. Voices soothed her ears and only made it worse. She stood there patting her cheek, trying to console herself.

   Evie plucked up a tiny padlock shaped in a heart. Something you’d clasp your secret diary with. Pushed it into her tongue. Palms flattened on the wall as she tried to swallow. Choked the rust taste down until she was gasping. The lump sunk lower.

   Breathing slow. 

   In control of her thoughts and emotions again.

   Evangeline wondered just what kind of girl she was.

** ** **

   “Were they fighting?” Max had turned back to Billy leaning into his car. The cigarette smashed under his boot. An aimless shrug followed as the sky began to darken. Eyes fixed on were Evie disappeared to. Streetlights flipped on. 

   Smoke edged out Billy’s lips before he popped a mint. Woke his senses up.

   Max peered at him in a winter coat that was too big for her. Looked like a marshmallow on fire with her red hair.

   “You should go check…” She craned to listen for a raspy squeaking under the cold wind. “Hey. Do you hear that?”

   “What?” Billy came off his car as she went to the back wheel. 

   “That crying.”

   “Crying?” Billy turned, earring dangling to hear it. “What the hell?”

   “Look, it’s…”

   “A fucking huge rat trapped in my… Get out of there, you little shit.” He reached over the wheel and grasped trembling fur. Not caring if it bit him. 

   “Careful.” Max actually laughed at him grunting. Pulling a squirmy ball of matted fluff out to let it dangle there. “It’s not a rat! It's-"

   "Ugly."

   "It’s a scared kitten.”

   “Feral thing. It’s just cold and hungry.” Billy watched the nubby paws flail around. It spat a grumpy hiss at him. “Probably lost its mom.” 

   Max went quiet at that. Billy sighed. Actually looked softer and cradled a dirty grey kitten close to his leather coat. Looking around. 

   “Little shit.” He broke while it chewed on his thumb. Round head and hungry, little body. Bright blue eyes.

   “It’s a sign. Go give it to Evie.” The redhead smiled there. "She misses Bourbon.”

   “Max, that’s...ah, a good idea.” He stood taller. Made a face. “When did you wise up?”

   “Always been smart, you just never noticed.” She grew cheeky. “Don’t come home until Evie feels better.”

   Max turned to go back up to the house. Billy exhaled at her, crossed around with the squirming beast. Thumb rubbing soothing circles into it.

   "Look cute and friendly for a second, I want this girl to like me." Billy joked to the kitten, practicing a line to himself with a grin. "Hey, Angel, this cat's been on a journey to find you and I'm just getting it home. I am your destiny."

   Three knocks. Some shuffling followed before the door cracked. Evie’s face was splotchy. She’d changed into a burnt orange sweater and black leggings.

   Billy forgot all his lines.

   “What-?” Evie didn’t have time to react before he was pushing a ball of fur at her chest. 

   “Here.” He gruffed. “Found it hiding in my car. Smells like exhaust.”

   A raspy meow followed.

   Evie stammered a few words he couldn’t even piece together. Eyes bulging at the squeaky thing he’d just shoved at her. Hands scrambled to take it.

   “You lost your cat, we figured this one needed a home with someone batshit for cats. Know anyone?” Billy let her gape at him. Blinking several times, Evie tried to speak.

   “I, uh...uh, okay. I guess I could...could…” She melted looking at it. "Aww..."

   “Already likes you.” Billy watched the thing curl up and slow blink at its new mother. Evie sagged, licked her lips to marvel. Words came.

   “Thank you.”

   “Don’t mention it. Wouldn’t have made it much longer out here without its mom.” He looked at the empty swing on their porch. They had one in California. His mom liked to sit on it and hum. On good days. “Mona leaving for the week?”

   “Yeah, seeing her older sisters in New Orleans. It’s just me until next Sunday.” Evie was beaming at the kitten. Comforting it. “Poor thing needs a bath, it’s covered in grease.”

   “Well, just don’t give it a stupid name like Cherry because we found it on Cherry Lane.” He paused, joking. “Or Camaro. Won't hurt my pride.” 

   Billy was turning to go down the steps. Evie bit her lip. Smiled softer.

   “What about Blue?” She observed the kitten. “It’s a little girl.”

   “Blue?” Billy laughed and peered back at her.

   “For the color of your car. And her eyes.” And your eyes.

   A grin crossed Billy’s lips.

   “Not terrible.” He shrugged, leaving.

   “Billy.” Evie stepped out onto the welcome mat. Saw him pause there against a sea of white. Illuminated. Obscene. Beautiful boy. “Did...you maybe want to help me get her set up? I was thinking of ordering pizza and heating some apple cider.”

   “With caramel?”

   “Obviously.” She shrugged. “If you wanted to come in…”

   “Is this you forgiving me?”

   “I’ll let you think I am.” Evie rolled her eyes and turned with Blue content in her arms. Billy flashed his teeth. Climbed the steps to follow after. Shut the door behind him.

** ** **

   “I know, baby, I know.” Evie was washing dirt and grease from the squeaky creature’s fluff. “Poor thing. Hiding in that loud, scary car.”

   “My car was its safe haven.” Billy had the phone pressed into his shoulder.

   “Loud, scary machine.” She continued, amused. Let him finish the order and hang up.

   “Extra cheese and pepperoni fine with you?” Billy crossed to the kitchen sink where Evie settled a tiny makeshift cat bath in.

   “Sounds amazing. I didn’t eat much today…” She trailed off. Caught Billy’s eyes on her bruised arms again with her sweater pulled up. “He doesn’t hurt me. He’s just scared.”

   “Men hurt worse when they’re scared.” Was all Billy said. Evie frowned, plucking up the wet kitten to bundle it in a towel.

   “That’s better, isn’t it?” She continued. Cheeks fresh with strawberries. Lips upturned. Calmer while she nurtured it. Billy took note.

   “Were you fighting with your mom?” He asked. Evie barely glanced at him.

   “Not from my mom’s point of view.” Her head shook. “My...My dad called. I heard her telling him not to.” Evie’s eyes lifted. “How many times has he tried to call before? Has he even asked about me?”

   “You get along with your dad?”

   “He was gone a lot for work business, but we were close. Closer than my mom and I even. He was...really kind and affectionate. Always buying me things. Bringing little gifts home from his long work trips. I used to think he and my mom had this perfect marriage. Something out of an old sitcom.”

   Evie didn’t like to touch these things. Especially not in front of others. But, Billy Hargrove was looking at her. Staring pointedly and unashamed. Something admirable there even if he liked to deflect from himself.

   “I’m not sure now if my parents ever loved each other.” Billy had replied. Offering a sliver of himself to ease her pain. “Not sure if dad loves Susan either. But, she’ll do anything for him. I think he loves that. My mom stopped playing that game.”

   Evie felt this ocean within her heart roll softly upon a shore. Echoing distant calls.

   “Hey, that thing is almost cute now.” Billy’s quip made her snort. Huge, alien eyes blinked up at them.

   “Probably just barely weaned off its mother. Little runt. I have some soft canned food for now until I can get to the store. Hope you’re okay with Bourbon’s smell in the house still.” Evie cradled the cat and reached into a cupboard. “Let’s get you set up in my room. Shall we?” 

   Billy perked as she looked to him.

   “Pizza should be here when I’m done...did you want to pick a movie or something?” Hesitation had her feet shuffling. He could leave.

   They seemed to both consider it. Why they were still here. Meeting each other halfway. Did it matter?

   People can surprise you. All you can do is let them.

   “What’d you have? Dolly’s collection.” He smiled at her expression there.

   “Only on mom’s display. C’mere. Bottom shelf. Be amazed.” She cleared her throat as Billy entered the bedroom behind her. Neared one of the many bookshelves. This one covered in novels and VHS tapes. Evie set up a litter box and found some toys that hadn’t gotten much use. Let the kitten roam her bed and squeak. “Well?”

   “I’m impressed with the selection. Carpenter, Craven, De Palma, Hooper… What’s a nice girl like you doing with all of Argento’s flicks?”

   “Enjoying every minute.” She knelt down by Billy as he plucked up a tape, laughing. 

   “Evangeline Fenny owns The Slumber Party Massacre?”

   “I love a shitty dumpster fire of a movie that can make fun of its own genre. And it was directed by a woman.”

   “No way,” Billy turned it over, “jesus.” He pushed it back. “Sleepaway Camp, Carrie, Black Christmas, The Funhouse, Phantom of the Paradise. How about a classic... Michael or Leatherface?”

   “Myers.”

   “Leatherface is way better.” Billy grabbed Halloween.

   “Psssh.” Evie plucked Blue up. “He can act like he is.” They went into the living room, paid for the food, and got set up. Movie, warm apple cider, and pizza. Not a date. Just a hang out. Plus the cat. Blue wandered the top of the sofa and tried to play with Billy’s curls. 

   “Hey, I saved your life, rat.” He leaned forward to bite into a gooey slice. Licking the grease from his lips. Evie giggled at him as the movie started. Technicolor and firelight bathed the dim room. Crackling peacefully. 

   Evie peered at Billy again, dressed down in a fitted black tee and jeans. She curled her sock clad feet up on the couch. Sighed.

   “Is there anything pizza can’t solve?”

   “My experience, sex solves whatever’s left.” Billy spoke around a mouthful of food. Earned himself a scowl.

   “You pig.” 

   “I love it when you talk dirty,” he swallowed, wiping his mouth on a napkin, “you do this with the teacher?”

   “Still prying.” Evie picked at some crust and went for another slice. “He makes me these fancy dinners. Wine and all. We watch mind numbing old movies. Most of them are three hours long about some boring old guy or they’re a documentary.”

   “And that turns you on?”

   “No, but Fredrick admires my mind, I like that. He asks me my opinion on things. That’s how we got closer. Through shared books.”

   “Until he started prying into your home life and then your skirts.” Billy paused. “He liquors you up?”

   “Not really, but sometimes it helps when we have sex.”

   “Helps?” Billy set his plate down after four slices. One hand came back around the couch, neared Evie’s hair. Blue stumbled into his denim clad lap to get comfortable. “Does it hurt or something?”

   “I don’t know, sometimes I can’t relax.”

   “And he still has sex with you.”

   “It’s not a big deal, Billy. I like sex.” Evie turned, speaking over the haunting instrumental on screen. Michael Myers stalking his prey. “It’s not like he popped my cherry or anything. He’s been there for me and I was his confidante too. We have things in common. He just got out of a bad relationship.”

   “Yeah, and now he’s collecting on that. Listening to you.” Billy shrugged, reached to pat the kitten in his lap. Evie pressed her lips at the scene, shoulders sagging.

   “It feels good with him. I do...feel safe after. Ever been with someone who makes you feel safe?”

   There was a lingering beat of them staring. Eyes twinkled while the fire became tangerine embers.

   “No, I can’t say that I have.” Billy scooped up the kitten, heard it chirp before he offered it to Evie. Scooting just a little closer to her while Blue got settled again. “Hey.”

   “Hm?”

   “You’re still here with me.” He smirked, staring at the TV.

   “You’re running out of lines, heard that before.” Evie drew closer of her own accord. Felt Billy go impossibly still when her head tipped to his chest. A bold move on her part.

   “Just a reminder.” He breathed slow. “What else is there to know about you, Evangeline?”

   “Gotta ask questions.” She mused and became too serious. “Who are your favorite female role models?”

   “What?” Billy chuckled, touching her curls.

   “Mine are Gloria Steinem, Linda Marchiano, Katherine Johnson, and Sacheen Littlefeather. Oh, and Maya Angelou and-”

   “Stevie Nicks?”

   “Duh.”

   “I was hoping this would be some easy questions. Like tell me about your favorite pornstar or the biggest dick you've ever seen?”

   Her head came up.

   "I'm looking at it right now." Evie's leveled tone had Billy bursting with laughter. She went down again. Pride built because he cackled as hard as he did.

   "Okay, I back flipped my dumb ass into that one. Fuck." A finger wiped his eyes.

   She felt him illuminate. Why was everything he did breathtaking? It felt almost unfair.

   “Billy Hargrove can’t name a woman.” Evie sat up again, amused at his flat expression.

   “Joan Jett and Debbie Harry and Etta-”

   “You’re so trying to win me over with musicians.” She poked his chest and settled down against him. Tucked in.

   “Is it working?”

   “Maybe.” She smiled into his chest, inhaling that cologne he liked to bathe in. Aramis. Billy felt her grin and sucked in his cheeks. They continued watching for all of five minutes.

   Evie shot up again to face him. Billy near shrunk at the staring.

   “Do I have something on my face?” His brow rose. 

   “Okay, I’m asking it because I can't settle.” Evie touched her lips and narrowed. Blue cradled close with one hand while the other lifted to point. “I asked it before so don’t have a cow about it-”

   “No, I don’t think we look funny together. That’s all you, babe.”

   She deflated, hand dropping.

   “How’d you know I was gonna say that?”

   “You worry too much.” Billy spied the TV briefly. Peered back at Evie.

   “I see the pretty girls you date, it’s hard not to think about it. You’re here, but are you here because you actually like me? Or is this some weird guilt thing set up from the lies you told earlier.” Evie batted her lashes.

   “We have a week off of school and I’m eating pizza and watching a horror flick in the Fenny living room.” Billy’s head cocked while he explained. “Yeah. I lied. But, I like hanging out with you. Sue me.”

   “This isn’t some weird conquest, is it?” She watched Billy scoff and shake his head before she shrugging. Voice growing lush. “Do you like my stomach?” He chuckled again, flicking golden hair aside before he drew his fingertips up her side. Earned a shiver.

   “Yeah, it’s nice.” He said. Those fingers brushed her chin. “I’m still here with you. I still like it. Do you like it?” He licked his lips. Evie studied him and slowly came down. Nestled into his chest to consider it.

   A small syllable.

   “Yes.”

   Billy’s arm shifted to rest upon her. Palm grazing her hip. Evie blushed. Wondering how his fingers would feel wandering between her thighs again. A burning chill pricked her skin. Billy inhaled that amber scent she was known for. Sighed. Thought about tracing her lips. Thought of her mouth on his neck. And then lower.

   Fuck. Not now. Billy tried to breathe again.

   “Billy?” Evie piped up after the lengthy beat.

   “Yeah?” He shivered. Acutely aware of Evie’s body heat and beating heart against his frame. Her legs pressed into his thigh. Curled into him comfortably with Blue now snoring.

   “I forgive you.”

   A weight lifted off them both.

   When he was dead silent, she went on.

   “I called Bubbles, you know, to check on her after the whole Brock thing. Couldn’t stop laughing. She told me about that night. You punching him and the money. I know you’ve been trying to make it right and you don’t even have to. She said she saw you pull up and check on Brock’s date after looking for me. And I...I did really want to go to that motel with you. I haven’t had a night like that with a boy in… Well, never. Maybe we're not supposed to hang out, but it's stupid cause I like it-”

   Billy cupped her chin and brought their lips together without ceremony. The intensity of a supernova charged his veins. Evie felt it too.

   Blue scrambled up and pounced off them to the carpet. Away from Billy pawing for more of Evie. Until hands slid up his hard chest. Tasted the salt on his lips while she threaded fingers into his curls. A salted, caramel kiss from the cider. He roamed her body, unabashed.

   Too many sensations. Stars busting. Waves hitting a rocky shore. Absolute fireworks exploding against a sapphire sky.

   All those things that made a fairy tale magical. Happening in perfect sync. 

   Evie didn't shy as he touched her. Squeezed. Lips on her neck and back to her mouth.

   Desire had her dancing in an endless dream. 

   “Billy…” Evie kissed him again. Deepened it all on her own. Pushed Billy back into the couch which earned a sound that was truly entertained. Enthralled.

   Yes, she wanted him. It almost felt like she needed him and that didn't jar her one bit.

   A hand palmed her bottom then tugged at her shirt. She heaved to come up. Blinking some awareness back. 

   “Let’s go to your room.” Billy came up for more. Fingers tucked hair aside. He nipped at her lip and Evie gasped.

   “We can’t...I can’t. I’m still. I’m with him. I can’t be…” She slid off. Left Billy breathless there puffing. Throbbing. His pants already had the tiniest wet spot.

   “But, you want to?” He shoved up. All fluttered. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

   Evie curled herself into the smallest ball she could. Faced elsewhere.

   “Yes.” She strained. Hugging herself close. “It’s not that I’m still mad. Fredrick even said I could… But, I know he doesn’t mean it. He’ll get upset and freak out thinking I told someone. He broke things off with me after summer and I never told anyone, but I know...he might have been just seeing if I’d come back. And I did.”

   It seemed to hit her for the first time.

   "I'm sleeping with my fucking teacher. Oh fuck."

   “He’ll leave more bruises on you?” Billy stilled as she snapped to see him with glossy eyes. Face scrunching.

   “I like it when he’s rough.”

   “Because it helps you go somewhere else in your mind.” Billy huffed, leaning in. “When my dad… When he… Sometimes I like it when it’s hard. Because I press into walls and pretend I can sink into them.”

   Evie thought of Fredrick and how he complained about her way of sleeping.

   “He helped me and I helped him." A crack. "No one's ever gonna love me like he does."

   He leaned in with intensity building.

   "If he told you that, Evie, he doesn't love you." Billy uttered that too inordinate in sweetness. She almost shattered.

   "He’s taught me things. He wants me... He sees a future and I think I can’t turn away from that.” She whimpered pitifully.

   “Only thing he’s teaching you is how to give in and hate yourself quieter.” A cord struck so Billy eased it. “I’m not trying to make you feel like shit. You need to hear this.”

   “He wants me, just me.”

   “He wants his image of you! Does he tie you up? Some of those look like rope burns, Evie.” Billy slid in and grasped one hand.

   She wiggled and didn’t pull away. Saw Billy’s eyes.

   “Adults are supposed to fucking help us. Maybe he did at first, but he crossed a line with you because he couldn’t keep his weird fantasies in check. Of course he taught you things, you’re young..."

   "It doesn't matter."

   "All of it matters. What, does he liquor you up and make you watch porn? Point and ask why you can’t be more like those girls crying on screen because they’re moaning and sobbing and being pushed past their limits.”

   “He says he loves me and he's proud of me. I like making him happy.” Evie made an odd shuddering sound. Lips pressing before something fractured distantly. “I can’t just leave him. I love him too, but-”

   “But, what? There’s no such thing as an ‘I love you, but’…”

   “I’m scared, Billy, and I’m so stupid.” Evie buried her face in her knees when the pressure built. Lost it.

   Cried there in front of him. Hating herself for being so fragile and weak. It jarred Billy to see Evie Fenny truly hurt and terrified of this relationship she mooned over so often.

   Trauma twisted you like fresh snow covering what was there before. Frozen solid to hide it with something that shimmered.

   Arms lifted to bring her into his chest. Evie resisted on instinct and then melted down. Sobbed into his tee. Wet the soft fabric. Clung. Listened to Billy’s heart race.

   “I don’t know what to do, he keeps talking about the future. Whisking me away and marrying me, I thought I wanted that. I’m supposed to, but I don’t.” Evie pushed up to wipe her red eyes. “He doesn’t even care about my music, he wants me to be a housewife. I can’t even fucking make descent pasta.”

   She laughed bitterly at that.

   “Fredrick wants all these kids and I don’t. I'm...I'm still a kid. Fuck, I..." Felt like she only just realized that too. "I don’t even have myself together, how could I put another kid like me into the world? And what if I get old and he finds another young girl with issues, huh, what happens then? I know it's all fucked, I do, but I can't stop it.”

   “Evie, hey, look at me.” Billy was trying to cup her face. Met with more resistance as she couldn’t stomach looking him in the eye while crying. Evie backed out and wiped her face again. Swallowed the empty lumps in her throat. Tremoring. “You gotta leave this guy. He’s gonna get worse. You’re fucking shaking.”

   “...I know.” She squeaked. “Sometimes I feel like I might shatter if I disappoint him. Have you ever felt like that?”

   "Yeah. And I shattered anyway."

   Billy Hargrove stopped dead. Displayed this blaring vulnerability that was miraculous on him.

   Saw a girl in clear, ruby red danger.

   "I'm just so tired, Billy, I never thought I'd be so tired at seventeen." Evie started to cling again and he let her. Fingers pulling for more of him and so he offered more in return. Tucked Evie under his chin. Still here with her.

   Frankly, neither of them worried about that any longer.

   “My mom didn’t leave my dad when she should have. Not early enough. He messed her up pretty bad. She had a lot of problems she never got over.” Billy cracked through the layers of volcanic rock hardened around his heart. She shifted to see him there. One finger drew the tears from her cheeks. Evie searched his eyes. Flickering. No longer hearing the screams on screen behind them.

   “What happened to her, Billy?” She saw this star fall behind his eyes and wished she could have caught it.

   Billy pulled her in closer until they were lying together. His mouth pressed into dark ringlets to murmur. Inhaling all the heat in her perfume. Honey amber.

   “She died.” His lips cast too gentle syllables. Evie held him back. Tangled bodies.

   Souls locking together without fear among dwindling embers.

   "And I don't want you to die too."

~~~~~~~~

Thanks all for reading!!! As always, feel free to chat with me about Billy and Evie. Askbox and taglist are both open. ^_^ 🍓

@80sbxtch  @nottherightseason  @orxhidshavana  @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly  @kellyk-chan  @stanley--barber @10blurredsmoke10

[pappydaddy]

What I Write For

Here is a detailed list of who I write for!!

DISCLAIMER!

 I will write the characters I said I won’t write for in a parental/parental figure/etc. or in a sibling/sibling figure/etc. situation so it doesn’t mean you cant add them into your requests, I just won’t write them romantically!

Please read this carefully if you choose, it can be a helpful guide for my account as well as for my writings!

I am also open to MORE shows/movies than these so don’t hesitate to send a request or even just ask if I write for that fandom! If I don’t write for it or if I don’t watch it, I can give you recs for writers that do since I follow a lot of multi-fandom accounts!

Here’s my: Request Rules | ask/request | Masterlist

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington 

Billy Hargrove 

Robin Buckley

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Jim Hopper

Joyce Byers

Any character not listed below

I Don’t Write For:

I will write the below characters as Siblings/sibling figure/etc. but I will not write them in a romantic/pairing sense!

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers

Eleven (Jane) Hopper

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Max Mayfield 

Any of the kids

HARRY POTTER

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Draco Malfoy

Charlie Weasley

Oliver Wood

Bill Weasley

Tom Riddle (Hot Voldemort)

Remus Lupin

Any characters not listed below.

I Don’t Write For:

I will write the below characters in a parent/parent figure/etc. sense but I will not write them in a romantic/pairing sense!

Snape

Mad-eye Moody

Dumbledore

Voldemort (Old/no-nose Voldemort)

Any professors (except Remus Lupin)

OUTER BANKS

JJ Maybank

John B. Routledge 

Pope Hayward

Kiara Carrera

Sarah Cameron

Any character not listed below

I Don’t Write For:

I will write the below characters in a parent/parent figure/etc. sense but I will not write them in a romantic/pairing sense!

Ward Cameron

Barry

Big John

Luke Maybank

Any parent

Any young kids (Wheezie)

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski 

Scott McCall

Lydia Martin

Liam Dunbar

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Allison Argent

Theo Raeken

Any character not listen below

I Don’t Write For:

I will write the below characters in a parent/parent figure/etc. sense but I will not write them in a romantic/pairing sense!

Kate Argent

Deucalion

Mr. Argent

Sheriff Stilinski 

Mr. Lahey

Coach Finstock 

Garrett Douglas 

SPIDER-MAN (TOM HOLLAND ERA)

Pretty much everyone is game

I Don’t Write For:

I will write the below characters in a parent/parent figure/etc. sense but I will not write them in a romantic/pairing sense!

Aunt May

Tony Stark

etc. 

(NEW) FEAR STREET TRILOGY

Deena Johnson

Samantha "Sam" Fraser

Kate Schmidt

Simon Kalivoda

Heather Watkins

(Young) Nick Goode (conditional, see below)

(Young) Will Goode

Constance Berman

Ziggy

Martin

Any of the (of age, but not old) killers (pre-possession)

Any character not listed below

I will only write for (young) Nick Goode in fics that have no fluff or happy endings where he and the reader end up in a relationship. This is for many reasons that I will not state for the sake of not spoiling the movies, but let’s not forget that he called Deena a slur.

I Don’t Write For:

I will write the below characters in a parent/parent figure/etc. sense but I will not write them in a romantic/pairing sense!

Mrs. Lane

Ruby Lane

Billy Barker

Milkman

(Old) Nick Goode

(Old) Will Goode

Billy Barker (pre-possession, obvious reasons)

Pastor Miller

The 1600s misogynists that did those horrible things to Sarah and Hannah

Any killer after possession/death - before death is all good

Please read my request rules before requesting!!

[hartigays]

#61. "We're stuck in here." Thank You in advance!!

61. “We’re stuck in here.”

(merry chrysler and happy holidays everyone!!!!🎄)

steve pushes at the door again, a little rough in his desperation, hoping that maybe if he tries hard enough the door will somehow unlock itself.

no such luck.

“would you quit banging on the fuckin’ door, harrington? jesus. ‘s not gonna unlock itself,” billy sighs, all but reading steve’s mind.

he’s stretched out on one of the church pews, lounging casually with his head resting on his jacket. steve has no idea how he’s being so calm about all of this. it’s billy, the same person who nearly beat todd stevens’ teeth in simply for telling him he liked his jeans.

steve would’ve thought that between the two of them, billy would be the one raising hell.

“we’re stuck in here. trapped in fucking church on christmas eve,” steve reminds him. looks at him like he’s grown a second head, a little bug-eyed. “you’re telling me that doesn’t bother you even a little bit?”

billy just shrugs, still staring up at the ceiling while one hand toys with his necklace. “not like we can do anything about it. no point in making a fuss.”

“right. because you’re definitely known for not making a fuss,” steve snorts.

he makes his way to the pew billy is lounging across, plopping himself down at the end and heaving a sigh.

“not everyone gives two shits about christmas,” is all billy supplies him with.

steve chews on his lip, considering that. he supposes it makes sense. he’s met billy’s parents, and he’d probably feel the same way about the holidays if he had to spend every one of them with neil hargrove. the guy is a dick and a half. steve decided a long time ago that if assault were legal, neil would be at the top of his list of potential victims.

and no, that has nothing to do with the little flip-flop his stomach does every time billy catches his eyes during mass. nothing to do with the way steve’s palms sweat when billy makes a point to sit behind him during the service, whispering jokes about pastor dan into his ear.

nothing to do with the permanent flush that makes a home on steve’s cheeks every time he’s in the presence of his favorite person.

it’s simply because neil is terrible and billy is his - his friend. steve would do anything for his friends. and if anything includes beating their shitty fathers’ asses up and down the street, then so be it.

“i was supposed to go to nancy’s christmas party,” steve sighs, defeated. “i had…plans.”

plans to maybe get billy under some mistletoe, if he could give himself enough liquid courage.

billy props himself up on his elbows, arching a brow at steve. “that snooty cow dating the byers freak?”

“she’s not a cow!” steve insists, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “and jonathan is my friend. they invited you too, you know.”

“only because they think we’re friends,” billy mutters, gesturing between the two of them before flopping back down. “didn’t byers steal wheeler away from you anyway?”

“can’t steal someone if they wanted to go. and we are friends. fuck off.”

“we’re friends, fuck off. merry christmas to you too, harrington.”

steve stays quiet for a moment. if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he’d detected a hint of jealousy in billy’s voice.

unfortunately, he does know better.

steve is the furthest thing from billy’s type. based on empirical evidence, gained by steve himself, billy’s type is attractive older women. married ones, at that. steve most certainly does not fall into that category.

“if we could get out of here, you’d get to have some quality time with mrs. wheeler,” steve comments. tries to keep his voice even.

billy doesn’t answer for a long moment. when steve looks over, billy is peering at him with an unreadable look in his eyes.

finally, he says, “who the fuck says i’d want to spend the holidays with wheeler’s menopausal mother?”

steve snorts out a laugh, looking over at billy in mild surprise. “i’d think you, after everything this summer. or did you forget that shit at the pool?”

“that shit at the pool had nothing to do with me,” billy tells him, rolling his eyes. “can’t help it if the bitch’s husband won’t fuck her. doesn’t mean i have to.”

“your behavior said otherwise, but sure. let’s go with that. you were just putting tanning oil on her back to be nice.”

“what, you jealous harrington? thinking about me getting some old snatch get you all riled up?”

steve feels his cheeks flush bright red. “i’m - no - that’s not…i’m just. looking out for you. friends do that shit, you know?”

“looking out for me and criticizing me for not outright rejecting some old hag’s advances in front of half the town are not synonymous,” billy says. stretches his leg out, shoving steve with his bare foot.

“gross,” steve whines, smacking billy’s foot. billy just gives him a toothy smile.

“c’mon, harrington. give it a kiss. you know you want to.”

“you’re an idiot,” steve laughs, successfully shoving billy’s foot away this time. “and that’s disgusting. i dunno where your feet have been.”

“not anywhere near karen, that’s for damn sure,” billy mumbles. props his feet up on steve’s lap.

“oh, so she’s karen now?”

“something wrong with that?” billy asks, cocking his head.

steve stays silent for a long moment. he has to admit, he does sound like a jealous boyfriend. only problem with that is billy is most certainly not his boyfriend, and steve has no right to be jealous.

doesn’t change the fact that he is, though. he never thought he’d see the day where he’d have to compete with nancy’s mother. nor would he have thought he’d lose.

“nope,” steve finally says, folding his arms across his chest. “nothing at all.”

a heavy silence falls between them after that.

the hours pass slowly, moonlight soon filtering through the frosty windows of the church. billy has long since fallen asleep, snoring softly with his hands tucked under his head.

it’s probably the cutest fucking thing steve has ever seen.

he hasn’t been able to catch any of that unconscious bliss, the churning of his stomach keeping him awake.

not to mention, the church doesn’t keep the heat on when it’s (supposed to be) unoccupied. steve’s teeth started chattering about an hour ago and have yet to stop.

steve is pretty sure this is one of the few times when he’s been a little less than grateful for the soft, fluffy snowflakes falling from the sky, giving them another white christmas.

“would you quit makin’ that goddamn noise?” billy grouches suddenly, his voice thick with sleep.

steve looks over at him, only to find that his eyes are still closed. he wonders, fleetingly, if billy is just talking in his sleep. but then he cracks open one eye, glaring over at him.

“sorry,” steve says, another shiver running down his spine. “you’re the one with two jackets. it’s fucking cold.”

“then get over here and shut up.”

steve blinks at him, his heart leaping up into his throat. “you want me to…what?”

billy’s eyes are closed again, his body still curled up in that same position. “i’m asking you to get warm so you’ll shut the fuck up. not asking you to go steady.”

steve considers that. he wishes billy would ask him to go steady. but, well. he’ll take what he can get.

he scoots over, tentatively. wriggles his way into billy’s space, beyond grateful that billy runs as hot as a goddamn radiator. billy slings an arm over him immediately, pulling steve close. he doesn’t know if it’s an intentional move, or if billy is just doing it out of instinct.

it doesn’t matter either way. steve isn’t about to question it.

“you smell like strawberries,” billy mumbles after a moment, his face buried in steve’s hair.

steve shivers again, this time definitely not from the cold. “that a bad thing?”

billy is quiet for a long moment, making steve squirm. and then, “no. definitely not.”

steve’s heart rate kicks up at that, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. billy’s arm just tightens around his middle, curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“so,” steve starts, chewing on his lip. “you don’t like mrs. wheeler.”

“nope.”

“you don’t like anyone?”

another long silence. billy’s breathing is slow and even, and steve starts to wonder if billy is asleep again. when he finally speaks, it makes steve jump a little in surprise. “i never said that.”

steve’s heart crumples, just a little bit. “oh. anyone i know?”

“why’re you so interested?” billy asks, just as he tucks his chin in the space between steve’s shoulder and neck.

“who says i am?”

“you. with all your goddamn questions.”

steve falls silent, wanting to curl in on himself. he’s trying not to pry, it’s just. if billy wants someone, steve would simply like to know who it is. doesn’t want to direct his distaste towards someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“i’m sorry. i’ll stop.”

billy sighs, but it’s more exasperated than irritated. “you didn’t even ask me their name.”

“what?” steve asks, twisting a little in billy’s embrace.

“my crush. you didn’t even ask me who it is.”

steve rolls his eyes. “i asked if it was anyone i knew. that’s the same thing.”

“take a guess. i’ll give you, hm. let’s say three guesses?”

“what, are we making a game out of it?” steve asks, snorting softly. he feels billy shrug. “okay, fine. is it…candice walker? that cute girl from the movie theater?”

“take another guess.”

“um, okay. what about…gina taylor? from homeroom? she always got real giggly around you.”

billy actually laughs out loud at that one, then sobers. “noticed that, huh? well. you’re barking up the wrong tree, harrington.”

“i don’t know what that means,” steve confesses, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“you’ve got my type all wrong,” billy tells him, and steve can feel him shaking his head. “you’re actually so far off base that you’re practically off world.”

“can you give me a hint, then? and quit being so damn smug about it, asshole,” steve says, but he’s grinning like an idiot.

billy doesn’t acknowledge that steve even spoke, not for a long time. but a few beats of silence later, steve feels billy’s lips press against the soft skin of his neck.

a gentle kiss, if steve has ever felt one.

he jumps up in surprise, whirling around and staring at billy with wide eyes. “what? that’s not funny, hargrove.”

“do you see me laughing?”

steve stutters a bit, still wide-eyed with his heart hammering in his chest. “you…you just…and i just…and we just…it’s me? as in me?”

“unless you’ve got a hotter twin that i don’t know about,” billy says. he’s looking up at steve with a blank expression, but steve can see it for what it is. a mask.

“you never said anything.”

“neither did you.”

steve raises his brows. “who said i felt the same way?”

billy tilts his head to the side, searching his eyes. “you really trying to tell me you don’t?”

“i…maybe. no. i don’t know,” steve says, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “i - like you. or something.”

“or something,” billy repeats, giving him a small, amused smile. “i can work with that.”

“you want to?”

billy rolls his eyes. “no, i’m just confessing my stupid feelings for the fuck of it. ‘course i do, dumbass.”

“you’re such a romantic,” steve faux-swoons, smacking billy’s shoulder.

“c’mere and i’ll show you just how romantic i can be.”

steve’s heart feels like it’s about to hammer out of his chest. he’s feeling several things right now, the main ones being confused, shocked, nervous, and excited. it’s a lot to take in.

but he finds himself laying back down, this time facing billy so they’re spooning chest-to-chest, crowded together on the small pew. he reaches out a tentative hand, touching billy’s cheek with his fingertips.

when billy presses a soft kiss to his palm, it’s game over. steve lurches forward, sealing their mouths together. he kisses billy like he’s a 5-course meal and he’s been starving in the desert. billy kisses him back just as desperately, his hand cradling the back of his neck like he’s something precious.

billy’s lips are just as soft as steve imagined, and he’s imagined them a lot, mind you. he’s dreamt about this moment for so long, he can’t even remember when he’d started. steve tries to capture that in his kiss, wanting to convey just how long he’s waiting for this precise moment.

because it’s been a really fucking long time.

“so you were jealous,” billy teases when they pull apart, running his fingers through steve’s hair. “noted.”

“oh my god, shut up,” steve laughs, tucking his face into billy’s neck in an attempt to smother his giggles.

“i have a better idea,” billy tells him, his nails scratching over his scalp. “why don’t we break that door down and go find some mistletoe to fool around with?”

“with, or under?”

“why not both?”

steve just laughs again, tossing his head back. he presses a gentle kiss to billy’s lips, then pulls back to give him a soft smile.

“i think that’s an idea i can get behind,” he says, poking the tip of billy’s nose.

billy just captures steve’s hand in his, giving each fingertip a soft kiss, followed by a mischievous smile. a moment later, he’s shoving steve right off the pew, laughing loud and bright at steve’s shocked expression after he busts ass on the ground.

“after you, princess.”

send me a number + a pairing!

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Lavender and Daisies

Steve Harrington x Holland!Reader, Max Mayfield x Reader (PLATONIC)

Word Count: 4,183

Warnings: Death, grief, violence, mourning, funerals, angst, crying, swearing

Tag List: @carolimedanvers @thechickvic @moonstruckhargrove @hotstuffhargrove @alex--awesome--22 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @agentsinstorybrooke @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @mickmoon @buckybarneshairpullingkink @marvelismylifffe @spidey-pal

You found yourself drawn to the Hawkins Cemetery after the announcement of the Starcourt Mall’s demise.  You’d spent a lot of time there two years prior. Two years ago you knew why you spent so much time around those gravestones. This time, you weren’t sure.

You always made sure to dress appropriately for the stones. Your mother had drilled it into your head, after your Great Aunt Amelia’s funeral almost twelve years ago, that the souls of the dead were offended by any colours other than black, grey, and navy blue. Dark winter tones were the only colours appropriate for the stones. You couldn’t help your bright yellow converse sneakers though; they were your only shoes with flat soles and anything with a heel would sink into the grass, loose dirt, and mud.

You knew how to dress for a funeral. You were a Holland girl.

You lost your baby sister Barb in your junior year. It destroyed you. She was this little dork you’d been trying to protect since the day she was born. You were Irish twins, less than a year apart. Your sister was a miracle baby; your parents were told by several doctors that they wouldn’t be able to have children after you, due to a seemingly botched c-section. When they found out that they were pregnant again so soon after having you, they had to go through with the pregnancy, purely because they might never have another shot at a kid.

Barb was your sweet little geeky sister, with her prissy friends and her homework parties. You still felt guilty about not telling her to skip the party she was going to. Not that Steve Harrington inherently threw dangerous parties, simply that you knew that it wouldn’t be her scene. Not that you thought she’d listen, Barb was a teenager. Teenagers never listen, especially when they had it in their heads that they were right. So you mourned her death hard. You spent every day at her grave site for the first year. Your parents had intended to use their life savings to pay for a private investigator to research her disappearance. And while, at the time you weren’t sure as to whether or not she was even alive, you weren’t comfortable with them selling everything to hire some random guy they found in the penny saver. You moved in with your Aunt Jeanine while your parents lost their minds for awhile, so you could try to keep your mind on your studies. And while living with your aunt and her four kids, all no older than preteens, off a pull out couch in their basement wasn’t easy, you made it work.

You graduated. But you didn’t get into any colleges. And once Barb was discovered dead, covered up by an evil corporation, you were forced to deal with your own issues head on.

Staying in Hawkins and going back to high school was the only way to clean up the mess you’d made of your own life. It meant you could stay close to Barb, which your parents had trouble doing. They were destroyed with grief, you understood why they felt the need to sew their wild oats and try to discover themselves beyond their pain.

The Hawkins Cemetery was like a second home to you now. You found yourself wandering around even when you felt well enough to not have to visit Barb every day. You found yourself wondering about the people who’d been buried there for years. You did your best to mourn them properly, dressed in your darks and keeping quiet. You tried to avoid funerals whenever you could.

Today, you ran into one.

Neil Hargrove didn’t get around to planning his son’s funeral until almost August. He’d demanded that his wife do it for him, but Susan was having none of it. It wasn’t as if she hated Billy, but she hardly knew him, he’d only been her stepson for two years and he hadn’t exactly let her into his world. Neil was forced to do it himself. So he paid for the cheapest funeral possible. And he refused to call his ex-wife, Emily; Susan had to call her herself, the one thing she did to help plan the thing.

The day of Billy’s funeral was hellish hot, he probably would’ve loved it. The sun beat down on the scattered, small group like migraine, sending sweat pooling down each and every mourner’s back and making their heads pound painfully. You found yourself wandering cautiously into the mix, fitting in just enough and just intrigued by the scene enough to stay. You and Billy weren’t friends, you wouldn’t even say that you liked the guy, but you felt bad for his family over what had happened.

Neil Hargrove wiped his forehead and moustache with his white handkerchief, shoving it violently into his pocket. His eyes were dry as the pastor spoke over the coffin, a small wreath of roses on its lid. Susan stood at his side, trying to whimper quietly, her green eyes misty and her thin red lip quivering slightly. Her hand was squeezed tight in her daughter Max’s, whose free hand was wrapped around the end of a tight red braid. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her whole face red and splotchy. You’d guess that she’d been crying for over an hour and by the heavy purple bags under her eyes, she hadn’t much sleep the night before.

You knew that look. You’d been in her shoes. You felt like you were kindred sisters.

You recognized the rest of her little group, all in various stages of grieving. Mike Wheeler looked bored, his fists shoved into the pockets of his black dress pants. Lucas Sinclair had his arm wrapped around Max’s shoulders, watching her cautiously. Dustin Henderson and Will Byers seemed deeply uncomfortable, although Will seemed a bit more saddened than his friend. There was a girl with them who you didn’t recognize who was holding Will’s hand and leaning on his shoulder, tears brimming in her eyes.

Then there was Steve Harrington.

He made about as much sense being there as you did.

You understood why those kids were there, they had to be friends of Max, but Steve was an outlier. He wasn’t friends with Billy, hell they were enemies the second he sauntered into the parking lot of Hawkins High. You heard the stories about Billy beating the crap out of Steve and saw the evidence yourself. Why on earth would that boy show up here, in a suit, to stand in the burning heat with people who either don’t know him or don’t like him? You didn’t understand.

But his big brown eyes caught yours and you found yourself offering a shy, small smile, which he returned. The pastor signal for the group to join in the hymn listed in the funeral program and you found yourself slinking further into the back as the small, cracked voices of the mourners rang out in prayer, following along with the pastor. You hummed to the rhythm of their words, keeping your head down. Funerals always eventually became about god, even the concept of resting easy eluded to some sort of afterlife and almighty creator above. You didn’t exactly adore the concept of god, but it wasn’t something that you outright decried. You understood why religion was a fixture in society and you didn’t want anyone to feel lost or aimless. You understood that feeling tenfold.

When the hymn ended, you looked back to the children, who now huddled around little Max. The bored looking one, Mike, was whispering in her ear and her broken expression shifted slightly from sadness to anger as her brown eyes met yours.

The pastor finished his sermon and the pallbearers lowered the coffin into the ground. Some members of the group chose to throw handfuls of dirt onto the coffin. Susan tried to bring Max over to do so, but she refused. A bright blonde woman, whom you could only assume to be Billy’s mother, cried softly as she threw two handfuls onto the coffin, standing over it with this broken expression you could only match to your mothers just two years prior.

You didn’t add any yourself. Neither did Steve. The pastor announced that there would be refreshments at the nearby funeral home and most of the masses headed off behind the pastor. Susan again tried to egg Max on towards the funeral home, but she held back with her friends. You took one last look at the gravestone, noting the inscription “William Calvin Hargrove: Son, Brother, Friend; Mortui Vivos Docent”

Mortui Vivos Docent-The dead teach the living. The quote was on enough headstones to draw your attention and force you to learn its meaning. You wondered sarcastically what they expected to learn from his death. Just like that, he was another soon to be forgotten member of the Hawkins dead. Just four rows from Barb.

You turned on your heel, letting out a soft sigh through your nose, planning to return to your aunt’s house. You had promised to help her embroider cushions for your Cousin Sarah’s upcoming baby shower.

“Hey!” a loud, angry voice called after you and you turned back to meet the eye of Max Mayfield, whose freckled arms were crossed tightly over the front of her black button down blouse, the cardigan she’d had on for the ceremony already tied around her waist and her gaze stern.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, huh? This is a private burial.” She snapped angrily.

You simply shrugged “I’m sorry. I just wanted to pay my respects. I’ll go now.” You replied, trying again to head again, but the sound of angry footsteps following behind you.

“Who do you think you are? Barging in while my family grieves! This is a private occasion.” Max called after you.

“Max, stop it...” Lucas said softly and the footsteps stopped for a second. You turned to look at the group again. Lucas had grabbed her arm, tugging her away from you. The rest were huddled together, watching in slight horror. Max was seething. You guessed that they’d never seen her that angry before, or at least not in a very long time.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that it was a private affair. I wouldn’t have intruded if I had known. I’m truly sorry for disturbing you.” You said slowly, keeping your gaze on hers as she tried to rip her arm out of Lucas’s grasp.

“What kind of funerals are public?!?” Max turned her attention to Lucas, her voice pooling with exasperation and disbelief.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you turned away heading towards the oldest plot of the cemetery, hoping to sit on the bench surrounded by lavender and daisies. “You’d be surprised...” you muttered, pulling the creamsicle coloured scrunchie off your wrist and pulling your hair up.

Something hard hit you in the back of the head. Several screams rang out as you stumbled forward from the sheer shock of the hit. It wasn’t a very hard hit, although it did sting.

“Max, what the fuck?” you heard a voice call as you turned to grab whatever had hit you. A black ballet flat. And then, suddenly, the other shoe and a foot clad in black tights were in your eye line. You stood up fast as a red fury came at you, tiny fists hitting your arms and shoulders and stomach. She was almost as tall as you and yet she was fighting like a small child. You let her land every blow as her friends and Steve came running after her, all screaming for her to stop.

“He was my brother...” you heard her mutter angrily over and over again, tears streaming fast down her cheeks, her face growing exponentially redder.

You wound your arms under her arms, pulling her to your chest tightly. “I know.” You said firmly as she fought against you “I know. I understand.” It took a couple moments, but eventually she stopped fighting, her head coming to your chest as a loud sob wracked through her tiny body, making her shake and lose her balance, pulling you down with her onto the grass. Your hand came down first, to soften the blow and once you hit the ground, it wrapped around her, rubbing her back softly. Your other hand came to her hair, petting it gently as her tears soaked into your shoulder.

You turned to the boys “Can one of you go and get her a cup of water? And maybe something to eat?” you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb her crying. Lucas nodded turning and jogging towards the funeral home. Mike grabbed the other girl’s hand and led her towards the funeral home. Dustin attempted to get Will to follow, but he simply sat on the grass next to Max’s feet, pulling his knees to his chest. Steve followed suit, sitting next to you.

“I know how you feel, its okay...” you muttered into her hair “Let it out, Max...” Max nodded softly into your shoulder. It took her a few tries, but eventually she sat up on her own and you let her go, letting your hands fall in between the two of you.

She sniffled loudly, wiping her nose again, her eyes still brimmed with tears and red. “How...how you know h-how I even f-feel?” she hiccupped between her syllables. She was starting to hyperventilate, but you saw as she tried to regulate her own breathing.

You lowered your gaze, focusing on the grass. Talking about was still hard. You focused on twisting your fingers into the grass, crossing your legs under you. “I lost my sister, Barb, just a couple years ago.” You said simply. Realization washed over the two, but you knew Steve recognized you.

None of the little party went to the funeral, but you’d seen them at the reception with Joyce Byers when you finally made it back to your parent’s home. You guessed that they didn’t know that you were her sister until that moment.

“I know how you feel about all of this: the pain of losing him, the regret, the anger at the world and at me. I felt the same thing with my sister.” You added, finally able to look up again.

Max crossed her arms over her chest, looking away towards the road less than ten feet away. “Y-you don’t k-know how I f-feel about y-you.” She replied bitterly

“Oh I do,” you chuckled to yourself “When I saw Steve at my sister’s funeral, I wanted to kill him.”

Max raised an eyebrow, which you took as your cue to keep going. “Steve wasn’t even friends with Barb, he didn’t even know her. And it was his stupid party that she went missing, how she got hurt by all that laboratory shit. When I saw him with all those people that loved her, I wanted to destroy him. As soon as the funeral was over, I went right over to him and started screaming at him. He let me try to beat the shit out of him.”

Steve chuckled softly at the memory. In truth, he only went to the funeral because he felt guilty. Guilty that it was at his house, guilty that he’d left her outside, guilty that he didn’t do anything to help her, that he didn’t even notice she’d disappeared until the police started asking him questions. He went to apologize to her, he couldn’t apologize to your parents, they wouldn’t let him. Instead, he apologized to you. He let you yell at him and hit him and cry into his shoulder and wear his jacket when you started to shiver from the cold.

And after that day, he started to check up on you. Little things at first, he knew that you wandered around here so he’d check to make sure that your car came and went. Sometimes he’d drive past your aunt’s house, because it was on his way home anyway, to make sure the car was in the driveway. When he saw you in school, he’d sometimes go over to you to make small talk. He’d eat lunch with you once Tommy and Carol ditched him to hang out with...well with Billy. It was hard to be bitter about that now. You were genuinely one of his only friends.

“I really am sorry for disturbing your mourning, Max. I really didn’t mean to.” Your words pulled Steve out of his memories and his gaze to you. It was a stark contrast to the last time he’d seen you here. Your skin was warm and rosy, your eyes clear and bright, your smile was...heart stopping. You looked so alive, it was beautiful to behold. When he first saw you, you looked so pale and fragile, small in your heavy black dress. But now you sat tall and you smiled like it didn’t hurt anymore. You were fully here, live in Technicolor, and so very alive. Steve couldn’t stop staring at you.

Max nodded softly “Its okay...” she said, looking to Will, who squeezed her shoulder. “C-can I ask you something?”

You smiled “Sure.”

“Does it get any easier?” Max looked so vulnerable, her eyes going wide, she looked almost as she was begging for an answer.

You took her hand gently, your eyes closing as you let out a small sigh through your nose. “It will in time.” You promised “But it won’t ever be okay.”

Max’s gaze dropped away and you squeezed her hand gently “I don’t mean that you won’t be okay, you will be just fine. I mean that what happened to Billy isn’t okay and it won’t be. But you will get some peace one day. It will just take some time, you have to heal.”

Lucas came running up, water from the paper he sported in hand sloshing with his steps. Dustin was behind, carrying a very full napkin. He stopped in front of Max, handing her the drink nervously. You let go of her hand and nodded for her to take the cup.

“We didn’t know what kind you’d like, so we just grabbed one of each.” He plopped down next to her on the grass, opening the napkin to reveal at least five cookies, all different flavours.

You stood up, brushing grass off your jeans “You gonna be alright, Max?” you asked. Max clutched the cup with both hands, taking small sips. She nodded. You smiled “Alright, then eat till you’re sick. Funeral cookies are the best cookies. And if you need anything, ever, you give me a call, okay? Anytime.”

As the kids picked at the cookies, you headed away from the scene. You felt good that you were able to help that little girl in any way you could. But sitting in the muggy feeling of sadness was exhausting and you really needed to breathe in air that wasn’t salty with tears.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Steve called after you and you slowed down, letting him catch up with you. He was wearing the same suit that he did to Barb’s funeral, you reckoned. He looked handsome in it. His hair was deflating and falling into his face, the summer heat making his sweat wash the hairspray out of his locks.

“What you did for Max, that was really cool.” He said, slightly out of breath. You both silently blamed the heat.

You shrugged “It’s the kind of stuff I’d wanted to hear when I was in her situation.” You arrived at your bench, the smell of lavender taking over your senses. You sat down on the bench, smiling at the peeling white paint and the daisies pooling around the tall grass, untouched and forgotten in the corner of the cemetery.

Steve sat down next to you tentatively “So, how are you feeling?” he asked, loosening his tie and taking off his jacket. You knew what he meant; funerals weren’t exactly your comfort zone. You’d confessed to him your deep fear of funerals now, of freaking out and embarrassing yourself. Of having a panic attack and making it about you.

“I’m okay,” you breathed out as his arm came around the back of the bench. You let out a heavy “I really shouldn’t have wandered over there, it wasn’t my place, but I couldn’t help it. I just felt...drawn to it. It was weird.”

“But you did okay. You didn’t freak out, right?” Steve offered with a smile. You nodded, looking down.

“I mean, what you did for Max...it was amazing. She’s been unmovable for weeks. If she’s not crying, she angry. No one’s been able to help. But you calmed her down. It was incredible!” Steve said, his gaze focusing on a faded gravestone for someone named Josephine Bray. “I wish I had been able to do that for you...” he added softly.

You turned to look at him, bewildered “What are you talking about? That’s exactly what you did for me!” you cried. Steve scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re joking right? You told me all about your grandfather’s funeral and how much it hurt.”

“That was stupid shit...” Steve replied, leaning back to stare up at the bright blue sky. It was too beautiful a day for a funeral.

“No it wasn’t!” you slapped him in her chest, startling him into looking at you “Steve, you really helped me. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone, that I’d feel better eventually. You really helped me that day. I never thanked you for that.”

“You don’t need to thank me that all. I mean it was my fault that your sister...” Steve trailed off, not wanted to finish the sentence.

“No it’s not.” You said. Steve shook his head and you repeated yourself firmly “Steve, no it’s not. It’s not your fault. It’s that terrible labs fucking fault. You didn’t know that she would get hurt. You didn’t do shit.”

“I could’ve made her stay inside.” Steve replied bitterly.

“And have her listen to you and Wheeler bone? You know she wouldn’t have gone for that!” you shot. That made Steve laugh against his better judgement. The image of poor Barb sitting in his living room, listening to the sound of his mattress squeak above her was so sad and cringe worthy.

“Okay, that’s fair.” He sighed “But I still could’ve done something...”

“Yeah, you probably could’ve. But the labs could’ve been safer in their disposal of waste or just not done those experiments. And Barb could’ve not gone to your house that night. There are a million variables that could be changed, but we aren’t in charge of any of them.”

You grabbed Steve’s free hand in yours. He looked down at you, a little surprised. “You can’t hold onto your guilt anymore. It’s not your fault. No one blames you.” You smiled up, his big brown eyes finally meeting yours. He swallowed, but nodded, squeezing your hand softly. It felt nice to have your hand in his, it was comforting.

“How’d you find this place?” he asked, pulling away from your gaze to look over the withering stones, growing over with grass and weeds.

“I got lost in here once, found old Jo and this little bench. Sometimes I come in here to read or think when it’s too loud at my aunt’s. It’s like it’s in its own world.” You explained softly.

“You still spend a lot of time here?” Steve asked, a little concerned with the idea of you still wandering around this place.

You sighed “I probably shouldn’t be. It’s just a bad habit now.” You replied, your face heating up just a bit. You knew that Steve had been looking out for you and he knew about your haunting of the funeral. You knew you shouldn’t be hanging around here anymore. It had become a force of habit, but you had to move on.

“You know, anytime your house gets too hectic, you can just come to mine. It’s usually pretty quiet. And I won’t like bug you or anything.” Steve offered shyly. “I mean, if you want to! I know that with your sister it might not be cool but I thought-”

Your hand came to his cheek, silencing him instantly. “Thank you, Steve.” You whispered, kissing him softly. Steve’s heart stopped in his chest, the world coming to a standstill. Your lips barely ghosted over his and you pulled back just as fast. You were far too scared to do anything more, to force yourself on him.

Steve didn’t pull you back, he didn’t want to scare you off. Instead, he let his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You let your head rest on his shoulder, smiling softly. You didn’t know if you’d ever be in this position again, so you savoured it wholeheartedly. It was too beautiful a day to not enjoy it at least a little, with a pretty boy holding your hand.  

[hargroves-angel]

Hey there!! I love your writing x I wanted to send in a request for a Billy smut where the reader is a really good Christian girl and her father is the pastor and Billy is her boyfriend and she just isnt as innocent as everyone thinks, ooh with dom! Billy hehe. Love your writing xx

All The Good Girls Go To Hell

Summary - You skip church because you’re horny for Billy.

Warnings - Smut, choking kink

A/N - This title just FITS!

Your fingers traced over his exposed abs. Moving lower and lower till you reached his belt.

“Waoh princess! You good?” Billy asked, his hand holding yours.

It was a Sunday morning and you had snuck over to his room. You’d told your parents you were feeling way too under the weather to attend today’s services. In reality you were horny, very horny and the only thing to help that was Billy.

“I skipped service for this Billy… I need you to- to touch me…. please” you whimpered, your hands moving to his belt again.

“Hold on, you skipped church for this? What’s gotten into you kitten?” He growled allowing you to undo his belt and help tug his pants down. Your lips connected in a heated sloppy kiss.

“Oh baby girl, you’re sinning, that’s not what good girls do” he groaned. His tongue exploring your mouth.

You went to wrap your hand around his cock but he stopped you.

“Bad girls don’t get what they want angel, or should I call you my little devil from now on hmm” he slowly moved so he was horvering over you. His hips grinding down, his exposed cock against your clothed core.

He slid your skirt off along with your blouse. He went to kissing your neck, sucking on the skin and leaving hickies down it. Your squirmed under his touch, lifting your hips to gain some sort of friction.

“So eager… all for me kitten” Billy started to strip you of your undergarments, “beautiful” his hands glided over your skin. You wrapped your fingers around one of his hands and guided it to your neck. He raised and eyebrow in surprise, wrapping his fingers around your neck applying a small amount of pressure. “You’re not so innocent are you” he sneered, chuckling lowly in your ear. “I’m gonna make you scream my name” the low moan that left your lips made Billy weak.

His finger reached down to your clit as he rubbed it, watching you squirm and whimper.

He collected up your wetness on his fingers and bought his fingers to your lips.

“You know what to do beautiful” you parted your lips allowing Billy to push his fingers into your mouth. You sucked his fingers off.

“Please Billy” you moaned as his fingers left your mouth.

He pumped his cock at your need for him. Slowly he lined up with your entrance and eased into you. He thrusted in.

“Imagine what your father would say if he found out about us? That the bad boy next door….” he thrusted in again harder causing you to moan, your back arching in pleasure. “Is ramming his cock inside his innocent daughters tight pussy?- fuck” Billy was thrusting in and out of you fast, you could feel your release nearing. “And she’s missing church to do such a dirty deed…. tut tut tut princess”

“Billy!” Your back arched as you came hard around his cock, the friction from your walls clenching around him made him cum loads.

“Holy shit princess and I thought you were a little angel?” He slowed his pace till he came to a stop. Catching both your breaths. His fingers left your throat, small bruises forming.

“That felt so good” you cuddled up next to him as he pulled out and collapsed on the bed.

“It felt amazing angel, you should probably head home though don’t want your father finding out what or who you’ve been doing” he kissed your cheek as you giggled.

“I’m gonna tell him about you I think… not about this kind of stuff obviously but that you wanted to wait and that you’re sweet… I know lying is bad but, he won’t accept it otherwise” you frowned playing with Billy’s curls at the nape of his neck.

“I’m sweet!” He mumbled a low chuckle escaping his lips.

“I meant the virginity stuff, of course you’re sweet Billy, you’re perfect to me” you pressed a kiss to his lips and slowly got up, wincing in pain, your legs being a little shaky and sore.

“You ok angel, need help?” He sat up prepared to assist you.

“No I’ll be ok, thank you though” you put on your clothes, an innocent dress with stockings and sensible heels. Such an innocent look for such a dirty girl, Billy would always say.

You stumbled back home, applying a small bit of blush to your nose along with some on your eyes to make them seem red and puffy from the ‘cold’. Shoving yourself back under the covers, Billy’s shirt on, nuzzling into your pillows. ‘God Bless Billy Hargrove’ you thought.

[withoutmonsters]

Freedom from the Day

Ask and you shall receive! @okayshitbird, you wanted to read a fic about Max and Billy sneaking out Billy’s window to explore San Diego, so here it is! You said you wanted to hear about them exploring some restaurants, I hope a food truck counts. Read on ao3

“Max,” Billy hisses, holding his arms out and gesturing for her.

She crouches by the window, biting her lip with wide eyes. “Are you sure?” she breathes, glancing back to Billy’s door.

Billy rolls his eyes. “Yes, Max, I’m sure. Now get going. Hand me the skateboard.”

Max passes it through the open window. It’s smaller than Billy’s, made for a child instead of a young teenager. When Max and her mother had first moved in with the Hargroves, she had been enchanted with Billy’s skateboard, bugging him for weeks and weeks until he had finally let her ride it. Billy would never let Max knows this, but he thought that Max was a natural on the skateboard. He had been considering buying her one as a sort of welcome gift. But Susan had scolded her for it, saying that it wasn’t ladylike for a girl to ride a skateboard. It was obviously something that was meant to discourage both of them from letting Max ride in the future, but all that had done was cement it for Billy. He’d gone out, using the money that he’d earned mowing the neighbor’s lawn, to buy her a smaller one, since his was much too unwieldy for a nine-year-old.

“Come on,” Billy snaps, gesturing again. “We don’t have all night, Max. We need to go.”

Max casts one more glance into the house and then fits herself through the window, slight shoulders ducking through, followed by her torso. Billy catches her arms, grunting as she gives him all her weight. He grabs her waist and bodily hauls the rest of her through the window, clumsily setting her down once her feet are out.

She’s smiling, blue eyes bright bright in the night and a gap-toothed grin wide on her freckled face. Billy raises an eyebrow. “You weren’t this excited about a minute ago.”

Max raises her chin regally. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m excited! We get to go skate! With Tomas and Domingo!”

Billy tries to hold back a smile at that and fails. He had been prepared to hate Maxine forever when his father had first introduced them. Billy had been mean to her the first week, but every sneer was met with one of her own, each pinch and prod met with an answering slap and hit until he learned not to pick on her. But somehow, Max had wormed her way into his good graces, with every wide-eyed stare and enthusiastic cheer for every skateboard trick that he’d learned. He’d even let her go out on his surfboard, red hair fire against the waves and little body surprisingly strong against the movement of the board. She was a natural, just like she was at skating.

Billy snorts. “Tomas and Domingo think you’re a little pest.”

That isn’t true at all. Tomas particularly had taken quite the shine to Max, promising to teach her how to make tamales when Christmas rolled around and murmuring quiet endearments of, “Shhh, mija, it’ll be fine,” when Neil was loud with Billy.

Tomas always joked that he wanted a nice little sister instead of a demon of a twin while cuddling Max, and then Domingo would give that devilish grin and jump on them and start a tickle fight for the ages. Billy would make sure to pull Max out before the brothers got too rough, but then would dive in enthusiastically, laughing and shouting and roughhousing until they were a sweaty, breathless heap on the beach, sand in places where sand shouldn’t be, hair mussed and smiles so bright they rivaled the sun. And if Billy got a little too breathless when he felt Domingo’s hands on him, well, no one had to know.

Max turns her chin up. “That’s a lie, Billy. You’re a filthy liar. I’m telling Mom.”

“Oh?” Billy scoffs. “So you’re gonna tell her that we snuck out in the middle of the night to go skate with Domingo and Tomas? Good luck with that.”

Max pouts. Billy laughs softly, ruffling her hair, before he scoops up his skateboard. “Come on.”

Max picks up her own board and follows Billy through the patchy grass and goat heads to the sidewalk. He places his skateboard down and pushes off, checking over his shoulder to make sure she does the same, and then they’re off. The boards make a ticking noise as they go over each crack in the sidewalk, invisible weeds brushing Billy’s flip-flopped feet as they pass, feeling like spiders in the night.

The air is cool coming off the ocean, the breeze bringing the salty brine smell that opens up Billy’s lungs and makes him feel like he’s floating. He closes his eyes and tilts his face up and lets himself enjoy the freedom from the day.

Max and Billy head towards the skate park near the beach, having arranged to meet the twins at 1. This is not Billy’s first time sneaking out, but Max had caught him last time and insisted on coming or she would tell Neil. So this is Billy fulfilling Max’s pushy request, because his blood curdles at the thought of what Neil would do if he caught Billy sneaking out.

When they are down the block, Billy diverts into the street, knowing that it would be safer than on the thin sidewalk. Max follows him, weaving her board dangerously, teeth bright white and glinting out of her grin. Billy laughs as the board veers wildly and she stumbles off it, feet slapping the pavement loudly as catches herself.

“That’s what you get!” He calls back to her as he pumps his leg and goes faster.

“Asshole!” she shouts back.

They make it to the skate park a little late, Billy boosting Max over the fence before following her. They head into the grass on either side, lined by trees and swathed in dark shadows. Billy whistles shrilly, grinning as he sees two shadows jump.

“Mija!” A delighted voice calls from the side, and then Tomas is emerging from the trees and beaming widely.

Max takes a moving jump from her board, landing hard in the grass and running to leap at him. He catches her, laughing and grinning. “That was good! You timed it much better this time!”

“I know,” Max tosses her hair, shifting her body so that she’s in a princess hold instead of awkwardly clutched to Tomas’s chest. “I’m great like that.”

Tomas laughs loudly. “That you are, little bird. That you are.”

He drops her onto her feet and ruffles her hair. “Oh, hi, Billy. Didn’t see you there. Max was too busy outshining you.”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Oh, sure. Fuck you, asshole.”

Tomas snickers, offering his hand. Billy claps his hand to Tomas’s clenching it into a fist and knocking their knuckles together. “Where’s Domingo?”

“Comin’. He wanted a taco.”

Max brightens. “Can I have a taco?”

“No, Max—” Billy starts, because he knows that if he starts fucking up her food schedule, Neil will have his hide, but Tomas interrupts.

“Sure! C’mon, mija, I’ll get you some. What do you want?”

“Carne Asada. And Pork Carnitas. Oh! And can I get some of their ice cream?”

Tomas laughs. “What, did your mom not feed you or something?”

Max pouts. “I just want some Horchata ice cream, Tomas.”

“I think he might have one or two ice cream sandwiches left.”

Max brightens.

“You know we came here to skate, right?” Billy calls. Tomas flips him off over his shoulder.

Billy huffs, popping his board up and grabbing it, following them to the other end of the park, where they climb another fence and come out on a street where a food truck is parked. Technically it wasn’t open, but the three of them had been regulars for so long that Domingo could knock on the window and the chef (who lived in the back and drove to different cities along the west coast as well as Mexico) would cook them what they wanted as long as they had the money.

Domingo is standing in front of the truck when they walk up, laughing at something the chef said.

“Hey, Tio,” Tomas greets as they stop next to his brother.

“Jesus,” Angel groans as he sees the extra people. “Do you little shits never eat, or something?”

Billy laughs under his breath as Domingo ducks his head. “Please, Tio Angel. We’ll pay, we promise!”

Angel scrubs his hand over his face. “Y’all are the worst, you got that? I swear.”

Doming gave him a bright smile that punched a hole in Billy’s chest. “Thank you so much!”

“What do you want?”

Max perks up, rattling off her order in a voice that is fairly presumptuous, considering it’s the middle of the night and Domingo probably dragged Angel out of bed for food. Tomas adds his own order, leaning his arms on Max’s head and making her grumble.

Domingo catches Billy’s eye. “And a Chicken Tinga and an Al Pastor, please. Oh, and some Refritos and Elote.”

Billy makes a noise in the back of his throat. “No, Domingo, I can’t pay for that—”

Domingo cuts him a look. “I can.”

“I don’t need your goddamn charity—”

“It’s not charity, cabron, I’m just buying you tacos, goddamn.”

Billy opens his mouth but Domingo cuts him off with a finger pressed to his lips. Billy’s protest dies in his throat with a strangled noise. Domingo gives him a secret smile, pulling out a wallet and slapping down a ten-dollar bill.

Angel takes the money and brings back change. “It’ll be out in a little while, shitstains. Try not to make too much trouble in the meantime.”

“Thanks, Tio!” Max chirps, scooping up her board and pushing off.

Angel’s face transforms from long-suffering to fond in a split second. “You assholes are bad for her,” he says, pointing at Tomas.

Tomas gives him a dramatic gasp, placing a hand on his chest for added effect. “How can you say that, Tio? We are teaching her the fine arts of sneaking out and talking food out of even the most unwilling chefs. Those are great skills! She’ll use them for the rest of her life!”

Angel snorts. “Sure, dickhead . Whatever you say.”

Domingo slings a hand over Billy’s shoulder. “So, where do you want to sit?”

Billy has to swallow before answering. “I wanted to skate, asshole.”

Domingo scoffs. “Too late. You get food now.”

Billy grumbles but follows Max, who is waving from a table at the end of the block. Domingo steers Billy that way, Tomas staying behind to get the food. When they reach the table, Domingo sits so that his thigh is matched along Billy’s, shoulder to shoulder and breath brushing Billy’s ear as he looks at him.

“How was Neil?”

Billy shrugs. “Not too bad, actually. He’s been preoccupied with getting Susan settled at her new job, so.”

Domingo nods, leaning into Billy. “Did he give you any trouble?”

Billy shakes his head. They sit like that, matched thighs and breaths even as Max chatters at Domingo about a new trick Billy was trying to teach her. Tomas comes by with the food piled high in his arms: two tacos and a churro ice cream sandwich for Max, four tacos for Domingo, an additional three tacos for himself, and two for Billy. They share the Elote and Refritos among them, using forks provided by Angel to scoops out bites as they chat.

Billy leans more into Domingo, the other boy shifting so that his front is pressed into Billy’s side, one arm wrapped around Billy’s shoulders while the other one scoops stray corn bits out of the container of Elote. The ocean breeze sweeps over them, ruffling Max’s hair and picking up the bag and dancing it across the table. Tomas snatches it out of the air before it can be carried away, laughing as Domingo teases Billy gently about his wipeout on his surfboard earlier today.

Billy leans his head on Domingo’s shoulder, eyes drifting close.

“Aww,” Max teases. “Is it past the old man’s bedtime?”

Billy cracks one eye, glaring at her. “Shut up, Maxine. I’m 13, not 30.”

Max snorts. “You act like a 30-year-old.”

Billy makes a noise in the back of his throat. “I do not!”

Max sticks out her tongue. “Yes, you do!”

Billy gasps, pulling away from Domingo and climbing to his feet. Max shrieks and runs, her little body darting away.

“Get back here!” Billy growls, chasing after her and throwing out a hand to catch her.

She squeals when Billy seizes her torso and tickles her mercilessly, squirming in his grip.

“Billy!” she laughs. “Please! Don’t—no—”

Her giggles rise on the ocean breeze as Billy tickles her, Tomas and Domingo looking on with fond smiles. He catches sight of Domingo’s smile, and for a moment, Billy feels like everything in the world is okay.