#billy hargrove soft

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

[actually-mentally-ill]

[manwrre]

headcanon steve is super ultra mega overprotective of his boyfriend, billy. this, i know for a fact because he told me so literally today.

i feel like he’s one of the few people who truly acknowledges and remembers that billy’s actually younger than him?? and younger than he looks in general. outwardly, he kinda gets it— billy’s a bit above average height and has honed his body into something solid and firm. his voice carries and his attitude is reinforced by his ability to pack a freaking punch, so yea, he knows what it looks like. he knows what it feels like.

but even when billy’s all wound up and angry, all steve sees is a boy who’s had to be anything but himself for as long as he’s been alive. he sees a boy who hasn’t had anyone in his corner ever since his mom died and has been forced to fight all of his battles alone; without the comfort of support or solace.

and this remains true, even after starcourt, when billy is admittedly more vulnerable; even when he’s back on his own two feet and his sonofabitch father intends on making his life a living hell. and steve remembers the hell that billy had been put through that night—how cold he had been in his arms and logically, threatens the beat the shit out of neil hargrove.

okay, he doesn’t but he does remind him, rather pointedly, that he knows “hopper, the chief?” just to watch the smug expression bleed off of the older man’s face. he takes advantage of neil hargrove’s terse silence and helps billy pack most of his things evenly into the camaro and beemer.

and living away from neil does wonders to billy. he’s a little bit shyer, a little softer but it’s much like a child who’s been gifted this wonder and is waiting for the other boot to drop.

everyone still anticipates the blonde’s sneering and spitting but he’s the only one looking for the barely perceptible shake of his hands. he’s the only one who knows, privately, that billy’s only storming out because he’s staving off hot tears.

so when the party comes over to steve’s house for game night and billy makes himself scarce, steve knows it’s because he’d rather disappear, than possibly face their rejection or be the root of their discomfort.

he understands that billy knows how important time with the kids is for him; how much he adores them. and as the night goes on, steve realizes just how much he’s missed having them around at his. he’s glittering, gleaming— happy.

that is, until their game runs a little too late and eventually, steve hears footsteps padding downstairs.

he’s not the only one that does, though and there’s a pause in their shouting, as everyone’s heads swivel in the direction of the noise.

and there he is, halfway down the stairs and rubbing at his eyes.

billy’s pretty and groggy and steve can just barely make out how sleep-swollen his cheeks are; how soft and sweet he looks. god, he’s so in love with him. he wants to kiss him so badly— “what’s he doing here?”

and that’s all it takes for the smile to get wiped off of steve’s face. his expression shutters and he can feel it happen, knows he must look furious. “you—“ he points a finger at mike and hikes it over his shoulder. “kitchen, now.”

there’s a different kind of silence now in the room and steve doesn’t even look at billy to see exactly what his face is doing in response right now, not when he’s too busy staring mike down. and poor mike, he’s still indignant and defensive about it all as he splutters out a, “but we were all thinking it,” which just makes things worse.

and so, right then and there, he’s all, “you don’t get to come in here— into our home and make him feel less than. things are different now and you don’t have to be his biggest fan but that, you won’t do that,” clearly speaking to everyone in the room. anyway, billy’s touched, it’s all so very sweet because steve’s in his corner and they live happily ever after like all the gays should.

[ickypuppi3]

[passivenovember]

Being a dad is something he's always wanted. Call it a cliche, right, the all-American, golden boy who's caught up in the idea of four to six snot-nosed brats looking up to him as they try to make sense of all the big and small things because they have no other choice. You only get one dad, right?

He images them, crawling and then walking and then sprinting through the same ancient, brand-new stages of life. Six months, learning the kitchen-magic of how their fingers and toes bend on command. A year, stumbling Jello-legged down a hallway. Fifteen, slamming their bedroom door only to rush, crying, into Steve's arms when he works up the courage to rap his knuckles on the wood like the dad from Full House.

Maybe. It's all Steve's ever wanted. More than that signed Nicks basketball his own dad sent for him when he was twelve. More than Nancy Wheeler. More than his need for mountains, and oceans, and something else.

But then he meets Billy, and it's like all that other shit goes away for a while. None of it disappears, really, but he's got something to focus on, now. Something to work toward, with someone, and that makes it worse, in a way.

Billy finally lets him fuck, and Steve lays in bed that night with an irritatingly awful douchebag drooling a spot onto his chest, and Steve thinks. Knows--

Look, he won't admit it on the first fuck, but this is it for him. He wants to buy this dude house, and he wants wedding rings around the fat and bone of both their fingers, and. He wants babies, with Billy.

Aches Billy to love him.

He wants a life with this asshole. The whole nine. Steve runs his hand through Billy's hair and falls asleep imagining family Christmases, and vacations, and the fragile, shining hope that Billy will wake up tomorrow and swear that he's in love. That Steve is who he's waited 19 years for. That to each other, they'll always belong.

Obviously, that doesn't happen. Maybe.

If it does Steve wouldn't know, because Billy's not a lunatic. He's gone before the sky's fully blue. Leaves his phone number scrawled on the corner of Steve's mirror in Sharpie.

Steve's in love.

So. Immediately, he wants the impossible, but mostly, he just wants Billy. And by some giant, invisible, choking miracle he gets Billy. His body first, and then his thoughts. His laugh, genuine and biting and whole. Billy shares his memories, like pieces of bread dropped in water for hungry birds, for Steve. Achingly slow, he tells his hopes, his dreams, and.

Eventually, one night with his head on Steve's chest he says, "You terrify me. I never want it to end."

So. It's basically love.

Steve's a loose canon when it comes to this feeling. Pedal to the medal, he shoots through walls with bright red booming firepower until everything is cracked and bleeding and open around them. Until there's room enough to say, "I love you, move in with me."

So, Billy does. Impossible.

Wonderful and joking, even though it's not a joke when Steve's parents meet him on move in day and Steve's dad is thrilled that Billy knows shit about cars, and Steve's mom likes that Billy has a weathered recipe book that was, "passed down from my grandma, back in California," for her to find a place for in their tiny, warm kitchen while she unpacks.

"He's very nice," Steve's mother says, "Respectful. Handsome." In that same wistful, sleepy tone that she used when she first called Nancy wheeler sweet. Beautiful.

"He's a fine young man, son," Steve's dad tells him. "Try not to run him off."

Steve watches them reverse from the ratty, rocky, untamed driveway, with his heart in his throat. Imagines the day he and Billy will leave their kids, supported and loved fiercely, to make that wobbly step toward the brush-fire shore of their lives.

--

Steve's plan for the future lives and breathes in a small, tucked-away corner in his mind for months. He nearly chokes to death on it, several times a day, watching Billy relax into his routine.

Billy cooks dinner every night. They eat on the couch in their boxers, dishes left on the coffee table until Billy kisses him awake in the blue light of the television, "Let's go to bed, baby," he says. Steve always notices that the plates and cups are cleared away, the living room tidy for the dawn.

Billy buys a shovel and digs two holes in their patchy backyard. Steve watches him from the kitchen window, wondering what the cavities will grow with the start of spring.

Billy plants a clothesline. "My mom used to dry our clothes this way," He says, when Steve raises an eyebrow. He tacks sheets and sweaters to sway in the sunlight. Talks about laying a patio out there, so they can grill for people when it's warm.

Steve gets hard from the image of himself, in an apron, grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for their friends, first, and kids. Someday. A total dad.

--

Billy makes use of his library card and checks out every book about homesteading he can find. He learns about gardening, and bricklaying, and how to buff gashes out of hardwood floors. For his birthday, Billy hints at a Better Homes and Gardens subscription.

When Steve forks out the cash and the May issue arrives in the mail two months later, Billy presses a hasty kiss to his forehead and disappears onto the porch. He spends his Sunday afternoons with sticky notes and an overused ballpoint pen from that moment on, circling things that have no rhyme or reason, to Steve.

--

They've been living in their house for six months when Billy says, suddenly, "We should see if we can buy it." Like he's been planning his own version of their future.

It's Sunday, and he's just come up for air from Better Homes and Gardens. There's a cheese plate in his hands. He's parked by the front door, on his way out, looking startled as if the words escaped from a caged area buried deep inside of him.

"Huh?" Steve's more of the lay-around-and-rot-in-his-underwear-on-Sunday's type. He's eating ice cream out of the container, distracted by something Barney Fife says. He laughs.

"We should buy the place," Billy tells him.

Steve blinks, "The house?"

"It's our house," Billy says delicately, with all the weight of the world resting on him.

Steve looks up from the television set, shocked that Billy's hair is wet in some places and drying in others. As if he was being groomed by some large, impatient cat. He peers around Billy, out the screen door. "Is it raining?"

"Sprinkling," Billy says, "I have an umbrella."

"Your magazine's gonna get wet."

"I'm reading The Grapes of Wrath," Billy tells him, pulling a weathered copy out from under his cheese plate.

"Sure, but if the rain picks up, your book--"

"--The characters could use a little water," Billy says, "They're trapped in the dust bowl."

"I'm in love with you," Steve says. Like it's the first time he's ever admitted something like this out loud. So it's a surprise. "I like that you read. I like that you talk about everything like it's real."

Billy pads over to the couch and knocks Steve's legs apart. He settles on the arm of the thing, cold, wet toes pressing into Steve's thigh. Steve winces, sputtering when Billy feeds him a slice of American cheese wrapped in bologna.

He chews. Swallows. "I need to make more money, baby."

"Why," Billy asks, feeding himself.

"Because," Steve chokes on the next round Billy feeds him, heart soaring when Billy smiles, "Because if we're gonna lay a patio and grill for our friends I want to make sure you have decent ingredients."

"I don't mind the cheap stuff."

"You deserve better," Than what I can provide, Steve doesn't say.

Billy shrugs, feeding him another round of cheese and meat. "Well, if we're following through with the patio and the grill--"

"--And a porch awning," Steve says, feeding Billy a slice of cheese, "I'm adding that to the list. You can’t read your book and eat snacks while holding a fucking umbrella over your head."

Billy stares at him, swallowing and red cheeked. "I think any sort of permanent installment has to be cleared through the landlord."

Steve thinks about it, humming low when Billy slips off the armrest and settles, heavily, into his lap. "So, we buy the place."

"I need a better job, too."

"We'll look when the paper comes tomorrow."

They lapse into silence, eating cheese and bologna until it's gone, then they move to the ice cream Steve was working his way through, chuckling at The Andy Grifith Show.

It starts pouring rain, little hammers falling on the roof until the power flickers. "I want to make this house nice for you," Billy says.

Steve looks at him. "It's already nice."

"It could be better," Billy says, fiddling with the hair on Steve's chest. "We could have a garden. And I think the beige walls are boring as shit, we need to get some wallpaper. Or paint, or something."

"What else should we do?"

Billy shrugs, "The kitchen needs a rug. I saw this book at the library about how old men in Russia and China and shit learn to weave rugs on giant wooden looms. Some of them have seaters, and others hang them from the ceiling. Your car needs a new power steering pump--"

"--Sounds like you need a shed."

"Yeah, I guess so," Billy says. He grins, and then his brows furrow. "But. Steve, I want to build us a life, here. I want to start my life with you, I don't want to wait until we move to something we own, because I like this house, and I feel like when we start to grow our family, we can--"

Steve's heart stops beating.

His vision tunnels, all his focus collapsing on the words Billy says. Phrases that sound wonderful and impossible, all knitting together to equal nurseries built from two-by-four.

Billy stares at him cheeks red. "Sorry, I know we haven't talked about any of this. I get excited."

"I'm in love with you," Steve tells him, breathless.

"I know, dumbass, I'm in love with you."

Steve kisses him. Pulls away. "You really wanna buy a house?"

"Yeah. Not a house, this house."

"You wanna have my babies?"

Billy tugs on his chest hair, grinning when Steve yelps. "Maybe you wanna have my babies, instead."

"Sure," Steve tells him immediately, "Yeah, anything you want."

"I'm going back onto the porch," Billy says, "We'll start with the job listings in the paper."

Steve watches him go. Thinks he could be alright at this, being a husband and a father. Someday.

Right now, he's alright at being Billy's.

[stervrucht]

[hoegrove]

insp

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

I’m having a lot of thoughts about super protective Steve right now, but I’m also having a lot of writer’s block so I don’t have the energy to actually set the whole scene.

I need Billy and Steve delivering pizzas and snacks to The Party (including the Corroded Coffin guys) to wherever they’re holding their campaign. Maybe somewhere in the woods because it’s aesthetic and the weather is nice, like out by Castle Byers.

The kids are fine with Harringroveson for the most part by now, though a couple of them (namely Dustin) don’t always get along the best with Billy. He tries really hard so it’s getting better, but progress is slow. He’s still detested by the Corroded Coffin guys (namely Gareth).

I love the misunderstood character trope for some reason. I love the idea of other characters hating Billy’s image, the idea of him, but when they get to know him as more than the asshole jock they peg him as, they realize he isn’t all that bad.

Maybe Gareth makes one too many comments about not wanting Billy there. Calls him an asshole and provokes him with the intention of validating his own perception of the blond. Maybe even goes as far as to insinuate that the only reason Eddie or Steve are with him is because of his looks. Something mean that’s said in a teasing tone, but hits just as hard despite it.

Billy doesn’t react with white hot rage like everyone’s expecting. He turns away and walks through the woods back to the car with a look of shame on his face, and Steve immediately jogs to catch up with him, lacing their fingers together as they weave through the trees.

Eddie stands there anxiously, wondering if he should follow them or if it’ll overwhelm his already upset boyfriend. He turns back to the group and looks pointedly at Gareth. Not angry. Just disappointed.

Which some could argue is worse.

“C’mon, man,” he sighs, gesturing vaguely. “You couldn’t be cordial until they left? He didn’t even do anything.”

“Made ‘em leave faster, didn’t it?”

Gareth’s tone is less sure than before, because after all, he isn’t a malicious person at his core. He’s clearly at odds with himself about hurting Billy’s feelings — he didn’t even think it was something that could happen.

Eddie just shakes his head and sighs.

“Well, you’ve poked the bear, so now shit’s gonna get testy.”

“What, like—“ Gareth gulps and his eyes blow wide. “Like Hargrove’s gonna kick my ass or something?”

At the words, Eddie laughs. Crosses his arms and sobers when he hears twigs crunch in the distance, a set of footsteps approaching once again.

“Not Billy,” Eddie whispers.

As if on queue, Steve emerges from between the trees. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders are squared. He gets eyes on Gareth before anything else, which has him scurrying up out of his seat on the floor. Ready to bolt.

Steve stops beside Eddie. Shrugs his hand off of his shoulder when Eddie sets it there and points an accusatory finger at Gareth. The movement makes him flinch even though he’s still a handful of feet away.

“I dunno what your fucking problem is, but you don’t say shit like that about my boyfriend when I’m around, you hear me?” Steve seethes. He eyes Gareth up and down like he’s sizing him up before he simply tsks and shakes his head. “You can find your way home in the dark for all I care, so don’t bother asking for a ride when the game’s over.”

He stares until Gareth nods, at which point some of the rage relaxes out of him. Only slightly.

Then he turns to Eddie.

“Get on the radio when you’re done?” he says much more softly. “I’m gonna go ahead and take him home.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, but you know how he is.”

Eddie nods and cracks a smile.

“Big ol’ softie.”

“Mhmm.”

Steve mirrors his expression. Leans in for a quick kiss, then casts Gareth a final glare before he takes his leave.

Once he’s gone, Eddie huffs a laugh and intertwines his fingers over the back of his head.

“Jesus. Give him a while, he’ll get over it,” he dismisses. Glances over at Gareth, who looks about as startled as a mouse that’s been dropped into a snake pit. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I dunno, you could probably speed up the process by making Billy a cake or something.” When Gareth furrows his eyebrows, Eddie shrugs and laughs again. “I’ve never pissed Steve off that bad, but I have hurt Billy’s feelings before. My boy loves him some chocolate cake.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then two.

They wind up having to wrap the game up faster than they anticipated, because the nice weather becomes a drizzle which becomes a pour.

Steve goes against his word and gives Gareth a ride home.

The next day, he’s standing on their porch with a Tupperware container full of chocolate cupcakes that say srry 4 b-ing an a-hole in blue icing on top.

Billy immediately shoves one into his mouth and Steve reluctantly forgives Gareth, meanwhile Eddie is laughing his ass off because he didn’t really expect him to take his suggestion seriously.

[mangywayway]

Ah to be a giant cat, just get all the belly scratches

(no explanation, I just can't sleep and I can't always play video games until I fall asleep lololol)

[thissortofsorcery]

30. “this is my husband/boyfriend”

SURPRISE!!!!!! Damn, you all sent me these prompts over a year ago, and I really dropped the ball. I finally got around to writing now that I'm trying to get back into writing slowly after taking a long break. Writing about the boys made me so so happy, I missed them so much. I hope you enjoy this, even a year later!

----

Soft prompt number 30: This is my boyfriend

Billy flicks the turn signal to park the Camaro on the curb, trying to ignore the anxious clench of his stomach. 

He hears the crunch of the leaves under the tires; the sidewalk is littered with them, yellow and orange and brown, picked from the branches of the trees by the wind. Fall is in full swing in early November, and Billy shivers at the cold air coming through the open window. He’s less annoyed with the cold than he used to be back when he first moved to Hawkins, but it’s still terrible. He’s bundled up in enough layers under his leather jacket as it is; Joyce wouldn’t let him leave the house without putting a sweater on, rambling about the weather in Indianapolis. 

Billy double-checks the address Steve sent him on the GPS needlessly — the university library stands tall and imposing to his left, the red bricks of the building looking faded in the watery light coming through the heavy clouds. It’s a two-story building that stretches wide across the lawn, with large windows and glass doors on the entrance. 

Steve is waiting for him on the steps.

He looks up toward Billy’s direction as soon as he steps out of the Camaro, familiar with the squeaky noise the door makes when it’s opened. There’s a grin stretching his lips wide, white teeth showing and eyes crinkling, and Steve climbs down the library steps two at a time. His gaze only leaves Billy to glance down at his own feet, trying not to trip on the steps.

Their bodies meet with a thud in the middle of the lawn, Steve’s arms coming down around his back tightly, and Billy sighs as he sinks his face into Steve’s neck and breathes him in. He smells just as Billy remembers.

The cold wind doesn’t break through the warmth of Steve’s arms, and Billy’s body relaxes, leaning his weight on Steve almost completely. Steve only hugs him tighter, holding him up easily — like he’s always done.

The tight fist in Billy’s chest lets go, maybe for the first time since Steve left Hawkins to go to college in September.

Rationally, Billy knew Steve wasn’t far, with Indianapolis being only a couple hours away from Hawkins, but not seeing Steve every day at school was more jarring than Billy had anticipated when Steve graduated in May. 

Billy knows from personal experience how insular Hawkins is. If moving from San Diego to a small town had been a shock, he can only imagine that moving from Hawkins to Indianapolis must feel the same, only in reverse.

Steve’s world expanded far beyond the comfortable bubble they lived in during the summer, and he met a host of interesting people he told Billy about during their calls, making friends quickly. Billy was happy for him; Steve still had some insecurities from the year he spent friendless aside from Nancy Wheeler, and Billy was glad he had people who saw Steve the way he did.

But there was still a niggling voice on the back of Billy’s mind, insisting Steve would get sick of him eventually. It fades down to silence now, blown out like a candle by Steve’s presence and his warmth, by the way he smiles at Billy like there’s no one else he’d rather put his eyes on.

“I missed you,” Steve says, and then he presses a kiss to Billy’s lips — with all the sweetness and hunger that Billy’s always felt from Steve, the feeling that Billy clings to when Steve’s not there, like an old sweatshirt that still holds his scent. Billy doesn’t wait a second before licking at Steve’s lips, turning the kiss dirtier than it should be in a public space, but Billy doesn’t care. Steve’s hands come to cradle Billy’s face, but not to push him away (they never do). Steve’s fingertips catch on Billy’s jaw, dig into his hair, until he can’t stop a shudder from going down his spine. Only then does Steve pull away, a smug smirk clinging to his spit-slick lips.

“Dickhead,” Billy grumbles, knees still weak, and Steve huffs a quiet laugh. Billy raises his eyes to meet Steve’s, eyelashes fluttering, and it’s like a punch to the gut and the first gulp of air after coming up from underwater. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” Steve says, but he doesn’t move an inch away from where his nose is grazing Billy’s, so the words are spoken onto Billy’s lips. “Let me show you—” 

A wolf whistle interrupts Steve’s words, and Billy sees Steve’s cheeks turn crimson before he pulls away to look back towards the library. He can’t help but scowl at having his moment disrupted — he wasn’t done with Steve.

“Hey, Harrington!” An unfamiliar voice calls, three college kids standing by the library steps, grinning with mirth. Billy identifies the one in the middle as the one who spoke, the only guy in the group, with a douchey beanie and vintage glasses, the embodiment of the college students Billy imagined luring Steve’s attention away from him. Billy notes the breadth of his shoulders and his square jaw, and his stomach turns sour. “Who’s your friend?” 

This is what Billy’s been afraid of. The demotion from boyfriend to situationship, the “I want to see other people” said into a phone late at night. Being brushed off in front of Steve’s new, interesting friends. 

Billy stands up straight and squares his shoulders, tilts his chin up so he can look at the group down his nose; the same stance he takes when he’s facing down something he wants to bowl over. Something he’s scared of.

But Steve turns back to look at Billy, and the warmth in his eyes hasn’t diminished at all. His thumb strokes Billy’s cheek before he slides his hands down Billy’s arms, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. When Steve answers, he’s grinning, wide and happy, teeth showing — the same smile Billy saw all summer.

“This is Billy,” Steve says. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

And Billy breathes out, the weight of his doubts falling from his shoulders and being brushed away in the autumn wind.

Steve squeezes his hand, and Billy squeezes back.

[robthegoodfellow]

Make Me Feel Mighty Real 1/?

follow up to praise kink soft dom Steve uber sub Billy fic (also on Ao3) from last year's Kinktober event. the boys play around with total power exchange. tagging @gigacat and @makeadealwithdean because i remember you liking the original 💛

no porn yet. pre-porn.

Billy didn’t want him to ask how his last exams went. Didn’t want him to mention his classes at all—a complete erasure of the last few weeks of compulsive flash cards and study guides and late nights at the library. He’d been mumbling psych terminology in his sleep, tossing and turning, and gnawed on so many pencils his desk seemed occupied by a tiny beaver.

Over the past however long since Billy had become his… well, his—his good boy, his baby, his first thought on waking, his to have and to hold in a sense felt more deeply than tying the knot, in a sense that transcended all he’d ever known of how two people could be together and frankly still knocked him breathless when he thought about it too much—anyway, since all that began, Steve had come to view his life as though through this peculiar prism.

Certain facets were as they’d been before, like now: soldiering through the numbers at work, making nice with surrounding cubicles, acting the part of the straight-laced office drone, diligent and dull as dirt. He’d been voted Best Hair at the office Christmas party not just because his hair was objectively magnificent but also because that was all anyone knew about him. By design.

He did his work, got paid, and the moment he left the building, Office Steve shut off. Some people centered their lives around a vocation, and some joined the rat race, scrambling to pull even, pull ahead. Then there were people like his dad, where career success determined your entire worth—your net worth all that mattered.

Steve was none of those things. Swore to himself he never would be.

So Office Steve had already been separate from the rest, from the facets of himself he valued most: the person he was with friends, with family, with girlfriends. The person he was just hanging out at home.

And he’d been content with those facets for so long… until Billy. Until something about Billy turned the prism and a flash of light unveiled a side of himself he’d never known was there, alongside the others, patiently waiting for that beam of recognition at exactly the right angle.

Billy dropping to his knees, face angled up, lashes low, eyes locked where Steve’s cock strained the denim.

Standing there, towering like he’d never towered before—looming, imposing, imperative—Steve had never felt so firmly seated inside himself. In command.

It was hard to explain. He’d been puzzling it through for months, but all he knew was that, these days, with every step he took up the stairwell to their apartment, something in him shifted, bestowed this clarity of need and means, so by the time he reached their door, crossed the threshold, he practically thrummed with it.

That day, knowing what he might find upon entering, the thrum heightened to a subdermal buzz, so intense he had to pause on the Welcome mat, breathe deep and slow. In control.

Billy was inside, would have finished his last exam an hour ago. And last night, as they drifted to sleep, he’d mumbled what he wanted, what Steve had been probing him for—what he wanted to do, how he wanted to celebrate, once exams were over.

Could we do… you in charge?

Like that evening in late summer, he meant, when they’d toyed with total obedience, Steve at the reins of every decision, free to follow any whim—unless Billy signaled yellow, they’d decided. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.

Me in charge tomorrow night? Steve asked, his blood already rushing at the thought, the memory.

Maybe. Billy had turned, nuzzled into Steve’s side, more snuggly under his arm. And maybe… try for longer? At Steve’s enquiring hum, a teasing lilt, he’d huffed, finally said it straight out: You in charge all day.

Steve hummed again, low rumble in the chest, and trailed fingers up Billy’s spine to hook in his necklace, twine the chain until it hugged his bobbing throat.

Saturday? Steve asked.

Depended on where his head was at, Billy said. If he was up for it, they could start early. Start Friday. And see how it went.

Baby’ll be honest?

Billy nodded—more accurately, rubbed his cheek at Steve’s ribs.

Baby’ll be where he wants? When I get home?

On his knees, if he wanted to start.

Billy nodded.

On the welcome mat, Steve exhaled once more. Unlocked the door.

Billy didn’t move from where he knelt on the floor, facing the couch, his shoulders at ease, hands on his thighs. He was in the same clothes from that morning—jeans and sweater. One of Steve’s.

The TV was on, volume low, a blurred murmur beyond the pulse pounding in his ears.

Steve closed the door behind him. Locked it.

“Look at me,” he said, and Billy did, turning his head, gaze skirting the floor to find Steve’s shoes. Watched as Steve toed off the shoes, as he approached, silent socks on the soft blue carpet.

Steve sank fingers into messy curls, angled the head to see Billy’s face. Thumb brushed beneath his eye, and though the lashes rose, the baby blues were soft and spacey.

“Color.”

Not a question. Billy blinked, slow to process. Steve stroked his hair.

“Green.” He said it quiet, on a breath.

Even unfocused, his boy had this ravenous quality, like his eyes, his ears, his every sense were sponges primed to soak it up, suck in Steve’s smile, the pleased curve, and Steve’s words, just as pleased, and soft.

“Good boy.”

Next

[alien-magnolia]

Eddie Munson’s Little Housewife

This one’s pretty kinky!! Fic description and warnings down below:

18+ minors DNI.

Fic description: Dom! Eddie Munson x fem!subby reader, smutty smut, praise/degradation kink, daddy kink, impact play, collaring, service! kink

“Princess!!,” you hear your boyfriend shout from the other side of the trailer. He was in the living room, you were in his room, just laying around in bed.

You wore one of his oversized band shorts, and pretty hot pink lace panties!! With frilly socks to match, of course. You hear him call you and quickly jump off the bed to run to him.

You come into the living room and there he is, sitting on the couch, manspread, a dwindling flame from the cigarette in his mouth. “Come here, sweet girl,” he says, and pats his lap, motioning for you to sit. You skip over to him, settling in on his lap. He holds your thighs together with his big calloused hand, and you sling your arm around his shoulders.

“I got a little idea, sweetheart. A little idea for our play time, for a scene,” he starts. You knew this was coming. Anytime he wants to talk with you on his lap, you had a feeling it was going to be something dirty.

You felt that little jolt between your legs. Eds felt it too. Suddenly it was a bit hot in the room. “I like the sound of that Eds. Can I be super pretty for you??,” your voice was starting to slip into that subby space you and him loved so much. “Of course, sweet thing. How about this? We can start tomorrow. I give you a few hours to prepare, then I come home from “work” and see how good my baby can serve her Daddy. Would you like that, princess?,” he asks you, lips trailing over your neck. You giggle and squirm a bit more in his lap. “Yes.” “Yes, what?”

You felt that little jolt between your legs. Eds felt it too. Suddenly it was a bit hot in the room. “I like the sound of that Eds. Can I be super pretty for you??,” your voice was starting to slip into that subby space you and him loved so much. “Of course, sweet thing. How about this? We can start tomorrow. I give you a few hours to prepare, then I come home from “work” and see how good my baby can serve her Daddy. Would you like that, princess?,” he asks you, lips trailing over your neck. You giggle and squirm a bit more in his lap. “Yes.” “Yes, what?”

You felt that little jolt between your legs. Eds felt it too. Suddenly it was a bit hot in the room. “I like the sound of that Eds. Can I be super pretty for you??,” your voice was starting to slip into that subby space you and him loved so much. “Of course, sweet thing. How about this? We can start tomorrow. I give you a few hours to prepare, then I come home from “work” and see how good my baby can serve her Daddy. Would you like that, princess?,” he asks you, lips trailing over your neck. You giggle and squirm a bit more in his lap. “Yes.” “Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.” “Good,” he smiles, attacking your face with kisses!!

~ The next day ~

The scene was to start in late afternoon. You found a light pink dress with some heels in your closet, and put on some jewelry and bright makeup too. Eds was outside, waiting to “come home” to his pretty little housewife. Before he left, he instructed you to clean the kitchen and make him dinner. You got dressed first, and then completed the tasks he ordered you to do. Suddenly, the door opens.

You had just finished taking his dinner out of the microwave, and setting the table for him. Here he was, dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans this time. His top dipped down, down just below where you could see his hairy chest.

You stand there, staring at him. He’s beautiful. “Now, where are your manners, sweetheart? Aren’t you going to invite me in?,” he drawled, his voice low, taunting. It gave you a little tingle between your legs, as you brush aside the hem of your skirt and let him inside.

“Dinner’s all ready, honey. I set the table, just the way you like it,” you gesture to the table, and pull out his chair for him, bringing him a napkin as well.

He hums, satisfied. He doesn’t praise you just yet. He is waiting, waiting for you to mess up. Just so you can get punished.

He eats his dinner in silence, while you sit across from him at the table, hands folded all nice in your lap, watching him with intent. You feel like he’ll start any minute. The anticipation is killing you.

“I’m done,” he whispers, softly, and you scramble to clear his plate. You left his cup on the table. He raises his voice a bit.

“Are we forgetting something?,” he asks you. You freeze. You didn’t clear anything off the table yet. “Oh, um…,” you start.

“Ah, ah, no time for explaining now, baby. You forgot. Isn’t that right?,” he says, stepping closer to you, pushing you against a wall, his hand trailing up your skirt.

“Yes, daddy.” He huffs, “good.” He pulls out a chair into the kitchen tile, sitting on it, leaving you panting against the wall. He taps his thigh. A signal. You knew what to do. You start to walk over to him.

“No. Kneel,” he points, onto the floor. You do as he says, kneeling right in front of him, hands folded in your lap. That was his favorite position. You look up.

He takes your chin, bringing your face a bit closer to him. He pulls out your small collar out of his pocket, reaching behind you gently to put it on. It is pink, with a heart ring in the middle. He tugs on it a bit, brushing your hair behind your knee.

“Didn’t listen to daddy, did you now, sweet girl?” You shake your head, as he peppers your cheek with a few light kisses. “Now, look at you. Kneeling like a little whore, for all those neighbors to see. I think my girl needs to be put in her place, don’t you?” He smugly taunts. He tugs on your collar a bit, his calloused fingertips brushing against your soft neck. “Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. I’m going to close those curtains, lock that door. I’m going to put you over my knee. And then I’ll give you as many spanks as I see fit, and you’re going to thank me for it, like the little slut you are.”

You froze again, simply mulling over his words in your head. He reaches over to you, a look of concern on his face. “Color, sweetheart? What’s your color?,” he asks. “Green, daddy. So green.” He smiles, and pats his knee again, motioning for you to get up. You loved how he checked in on you during a scene, he was so caring!!

Suddenly, you feel your skirt lifted, a cool breeze, your lavender lace thong exposed for him to see. You feel his metal rings, the shape of them, graze over your thong, pulling on it a bit. Without warning, he brings it down on your ass, you jolt forward a bit. “That’s one, princess. I think you need a minimum of twenty, maybe thirty, even. You’ve been bad.”

“Two,” he calmly says, as his calloused hand comes down on your ass again. Lucky for you, he gave you only ten more until you were shaking a bit in his lap. He gently pulls you up, and lays you on the table, face down.

You can’t see what he is doing, but you feel him now on top of you, his hairy chest pressing down onto your small, bare, back!! He grunts a bit, and you feel his hands near your backside. “Spread those cute little thighs for me. There you go, sweetie. What a good girl.”

You can’t do much but nod and moan, and soon enough you feel his big calloused fingers push Into you, god — it felt so good. “Fuck, — he grunts. This sweet little cunt is just sucking me in. You must be so ready for me, sweetie.” His voice —just so sweet. “Gonna give you my cock now, honey.”

With that, he slides Into you, your squelching pussy just pulling him in more and more, you felt so full and good, all stuffed with your daddy’s cock! “Fuck, princess, so fuckin’ good baby, so tight, can’t even move, what a good little slut you are for me,” he praises, stroking your hair with one of his hands, and the other holding your hips up firmly in place.

“Gonna go fast now, sweetie. You just lay there and take it for me, ‘kay?” “Yes, daddy,” you answer him, softly, brain too empty to think. You feel one his hands steady your shoulders, and then he starts pounding into you, ruthlessly, grunting, at a pace that has the table shaking.

“God — he was so strong and you loved it!! You felt his soft and big balls against you, as he drove his fat cock deeper and deeper into you. “Too deep, s’ too deep, daddy, can’t take it anymore,” you squeal out to him, and yet he does nothing but calm uou with some more “it’s okay, princess, just be a good girl and take it for me.” And soon enough, you feel his hot seed spill out into you, and with that, he is about to pull out. You grab his wrist. “Want your cock, daddy. Want it in.”

He agrees, kissing you on the cheek lightly. “S’okay, sweetie. We can stay like this. My perfect little housewife, huh? She’s so good for me, letting me breed her on the table like that. My perfect girl, so good for me,” he coos at you, as he momentarily pulls out, to slide you on your back. He lays back down on top of you, his heavy body pressing down on your little one, he slides his cock back in.

“How about we cuddle a bit, and then I can take a bath with you? How does that sound, sweetie? Did so good for me today…,” he coos at you some more, you run your hands through his fluffy dark brown locks. You loved scenes with your Eds — you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

“maybe i love you,” steve murmurs into the blond’s neck, trailing his fingertips across freckled shoulders as his lips dance across billy’s heartbeat, warm and affectionate.

at that, billy grunts. gentle and quiet. acknowledging.

because he knows. he’s always known.

and just because steve’s voiced it for the first time since they both truly felt it for the first time all those months ago doesn’t make it mean anything less than what it is:

pure, unfiltered, raw, and honest love.

the kind billy has never had.

the kind billy had sworn off, just to protect himself.

but now steve protects him with that kind of love.

and he can feel billy’s heartbeat quicken against his lips, happy and relieved.

under his breath, billy mutters, “maybe i…” he licks his lips and swallows thickly, “i…love you, too…”

steve lifts his face and stares down at the blond, admires him in the dark, feels the heat from his humiliated face because it’s fucking embarrassing to love and be loved, steve.

he presses a kiss to billy’s lips, soft and supple and reciprocating, slides his tongue against billy’s slowly, lovingly, ignoring the pull of arousal in his gut as billy grabs his ass and smoothes a hand up his back, touching and touching and kissing and moaning gently into his mouth.

steve pulls away, just enough to speak in the softest voice, “you promise?”

billy nods, mutters, “promise.”

steve smiles and billy mirrors it, soft and tender.

loving.

[plistommy]

Just… Steve and Billy swimming inside Steve’s pool during the summer of ’85, kissing and laughing as they let the night fall around them. And soon, the stars are up in the sky as they lay on the ground with a soft towel under them, bodies close and warm while Steve explains the star sings to Billy with a sweet smile.

And Billy?

Billy has never been this in love.

[gracegrove]

Neil Hargrove being a man that was raised in the heavy gender role dichotomy and era of "the American housewife" that when his wife leaves and Neil has to take on roles that had been hers things go downhill.

Both his clothes and Billy's might get washed, but rarely on time, and things are full of wrinkles. He tried to iron exactly one time abd burned a hole through his work shirt. So wrinkles will stay. Neil gave up completely trying to figure out how to run delicates or how much starch to add. It all just goes in and if something gets ruined in the process then fuck it. If their clothing falls into disarray, Neil just tells Billy to continue wearing the item because he has no concept of how to sew or mend like Billy's mother, but Neil isn't about to trash and spring for a new set of denim jeans or socks.

Food is available but not in good or large quantities. Meals are had when Neil says it is and that's final. Breakfast is almost always a bowl of bran and milk. And dinner is always some manner of TV pre-heatable dinner or if Billy's very lucky... It might be a one ingredient mix-in like Manwich sloppy joes. Fresh produce is a rarity. Maybe an apple because those are the cheapest.

Keeping their living space clean and livable is at best at after thought. Neil tends to just shift piles of things around to make room to put his feet up or to sleep. Stacks of mail and magazines are all over the place. He sweeps once in a while, but never vacuums. Dishes and trash are about the only true thing that get done in a timely fashion. But even then those can at times be scattered around their living space until trash pick up day is nearing or until Billy can no longer stand it and Neil berates him for being "fussy".

[panickedpenguin]

I am melting with the idea of Billy arriving in Hawkins later, after everything's said and done, people have died, like kids have died, and Steve is a depleted mess of a person who is desperate for soft things to ease his nightmares. Steve doesn't talk much, doesn't wear bright colors or flirt anymore, only ever hangs out with the screaming panic attack that is Robin.

Max begins to make friends with Lucas and Dustin, filling the void that is the loss of El and Will, being introduced to Mike who lives in the long-term ward of the hospital. Max meeting Steve and being suspicious of how quiet and sad he is, like he might kill somebody, like he might kill himself, because she's only ever known rage and never depression.

And then there's Billy. Billy coming in hot and bothered by this guy who used to be the town sweetheart, used to be the high school basketball star, apparently used to have a real nice car. But now he's a ghost, wandering around the police station doing secretarial work that just doesn't make sense to Billy. And that's how Billy gets to know him first, at the station. He's given a speeding ticket every week, he's fined for disturbing the peace and nearly arrested for disassembling a car engine on public sidewalks. But also for Billy's business permit and purchase of property and some tax debauchle including the previous owner of a 1976 chevy pickup. Billy was working hard to open his own garage and build a clientele of hobbyists and car builders. All this to say, he didn't want to be thinking about the sad eyes of some cop-wanabe.

None the less, he tries to get those eyes to show some other emotion. He tries to make Steve laugh, or grimace, or even get a good eye roll. When his small jokes and barbs don't work, Billy escalates to teasing and name calling. Some days, what Billy thinks must be the worst days, Billy has to resort to shoving Steve's folders onto the ground and calling him stupid for doing a woman's job just to get his eyes to show anything but black.

There's one time he manages to make Steve cry. There's one time he makes Steve grin and blush. It's a lot. Billy realizes he has a big fat crush and it's driving him mad.

So I'm melting at the thought of Steve learning how to feel emotions again, how to feel safe in his feelings and accepted as a person, all wrapped in the softest blankets while bad boy Billy kisses the top of his head and tells him to hush up, they're getting to the best part.