#billy: dick is dick i guess but fuck i miss california

[ickypuppi3]

tommy and billy after tina’s halloween party

[staceymcgillicuddy]

okay wait also before i go to bed: babysitters club au please. bonus points for including at least one ridiculous outfit description here. triple bonus if the outfit includes a jaunty beret with like a sequined tiger appearing to leap from chrissy's forehead at some point. (sorry for plagiarizing u, ann m. martin. probably.)

YES EXCELLENT. OKAY. My brain immediately went to mapping the characters onto their BSC counterparts and then this happened.

Nancy Wheeler as Kristin Amanda Thomas. I will not be taking comments at this time.

Chrissy as Mary-Anne Spier. HEAR ME OUT, because I know Chrissy is aesthetically the Stacey BUT Mary-Anne is quiet and reserved until you piss her off and then she turns into Little Miss I Love Myself and gets sassy haircuts and is the only member of the BSC with a boyfriend AND if she's Mary Anne I can kill off Laura.

For Claudia Lynn Kishi, I'm going back and forth on El or Will, because El has a very unique sense of fashion, and would probably do well with some of Claudia's canonical outfits, while Will is a talented artist who probably needs his own phone line since he keeps breaking his mother's when he calls her from the Upside Down.

Argyle as Dawn Read Schafer because he has long hair and is from California and some people find him annoying but I like him.

Steve as Anastasia "Stacey" Elizabeth "Boontsie" McGill because if he was from New York City he'd probably talk a lot about being from New York City. Also he probably has the nickname Boontsie.

Barb as Mallory Pike because Mallory is a horse girl and Barb gives me big horse girl energy. (Also lol that Mallory doesn't have a middle name? I guess her parents forgot? I don't really care for Mallory.)

Max as Jessi Davis Ramsey because nobody on Stranger Things is canonically a dancer BUT Jessi was cool and precocious and hung out with older kids while being suave, just like Max.

Erica as Shannon Louisa Kilbourne because she gets. shit. done. and you can't spell America without Erica. Seriously, though, Shannon was a high-achieving mfer with no patience for fools.

Eddie as Logan Bruno SIMPLY for Mary Anne proximity but also because I think making Logan a metalhead would be the most interesting thing that anyone ever did for Logan's character.

Robin as Abby Stevenson because she showed up late in the series, stole my heart, and is definitely a lesbian. Abby also doesn't have a middle name, so that's fun.

This leaves me with Lucas, Mike, Jonathan, and Dustin if I'm doing main cast. SORRY, KIDS. Let's see how many "other" characters I remember from Stoneybrook.

Lucas as Sam Thomas because Sam seemed cool and was kind of a jock but still had time to flirt inappropriately with Stacey, but in this universe we'll say it's APPROPRIATE flirting with Max-as-Jessi and Lucas-as-Sam is 11 not 15.

Mike as Trevor Sandbourne because IIRC Trevor dated Claudia for a while which works if you are a Byler OR a Mileven shipper, which probably says a lot about why both those ships are fun!

Jonathan as Bart Taylor because of the Nancy proximity, only instead of coaching a kid's softball team, he takes pictures for the yearbook and Nancy, in addition to running the BSC, a softball team, solving 70 mysteries, and going on many trips around the world in various Super Specials, is also the editor of the yearbook.

Dustin as Janine Kishi simply because Janine was a geek who liked computers and shit, and Dustin enjoys such things. I'm sorry, Dustin! The BSC did not have as many nerd tropes as I needed!

Bonus:

Angela as Cokie Mason because fuck her

Jason as Alan Gray because Alan is the closest thing the series has to a real dick

Billy as Robert Brewster (if you're into Harringrove and subscribe to my Steve-as-Stacey theory) because they dated.

Anyway, this took FAR longer than it should have and I am like 30% proud of it. Please be gentle.

[thatharringrovehoe]

Thinking of a Steve who's a total virgin when Billy propositions him for a casual hook up. Like, all the king Steve bullshit? It was just that. Bullshit. Just alot of smoke and mirrors backed up by the rich boy benefits. In this AU he never even hooked up with Nancy when they dated. But Steve is crushing hard and Billy is so hot and his last relationship fell apart because he wasn't ready to get physical, so he figures 'Fuck it, I can do this'. Only when Billy pulls up to his driveway, Steve is a nervous wreck. He wants to have sex with Billy, he does! But he's so inexperienced and Billy is from California, beautiful and tan with a girl hanging off his arm every other night. Steve's pulse is thumping in his neck, palms sweaty enough he has to wipe them on his jeans every few minutes. When the doorbell rings, Steve jumps a foot in the air. And Jesus, Billy looks like sin when he opens the door, smelling like spicy cologne and leather and Steve is going to pass out. Billy starts to notice something is off about the time he pulls Steve to straddle his lap on the couch. He's shaking under Billy's hands, and not entirely in a good way, breathing just this side of panicked. And okay, Billy isn't an asshole, he can tell when someone has changed their mind. Doesn't want to sound like a bitch about the whole thing when he sighs.

"Look, no pressure Harrington. We don't have to do this."

Steve's eyes snap up to meet his, pupils blown out black but still looking scared.

"What? No! I want to, I swear! I'm just uh. Nervous. I guess."

And alright, that's fair, this is Indiana after all. Billy was already kind of expecting to take the lead tonight. Runs his hands soothingly across the tops of Steve denim clad thighs.

" 'S alright baby. We can take it slow."

Because underneath it all, Steve is obviously interested, the hard outline of his dick through his jeans a testament to that. But there still seems to be a piece to this that Billy is missing.

"Steve, you have to tell me what's wrong if we're gonna do this. I don't like being someone's regret in the morning."

A blush spreads across Steve's cheeks all the way down the collar of his pollo, ears a bright and telling pink. Steve looks to the side, chewing his bottom lip fat and red, hands clenched tight in Billy's shirt like a lifeline. He mumbles so quiet Billy wouldn't have even thought he'd spoken if he wasn't looking for it.

"Gotta speak up Bambi. Use your big boy voice."

Billy's hoping for levity, but the joke falls flat, leaving an awkward tension in the room that stretches and stretches.

"I'm uhm. I-... Fuck, okay, you can't laugh."

Billy can feel a smirk curling without his permission, but the look Steve shoots him makes him pause. Steve looks serious, jaw clenched and ticking. The "or I'll kick you out" goes unspoken but heavily implied.

"Alright pretty boy, scouts honor" Billy traces his finger in an 'x' over his heart. "I promise."

Steve takes a deep breath, and proceeds to shatter Billy's entire fucking brain.

"I'm a virgin."

Its like throwing a drum of gasoline onto a campfire, heat roaring from Billy's gut to the tips of his fingers and toes. He wishes his God damn dick had given him more time to say something appropriate, something sensitive, before it kicks hard underneath Steve's ass.

Billy doesn't even need a mirror to know that Steve isn't the only one blushing now.

"Okaaay. And that's...a problem?"

By the look on Steve's face, he sure seems to think so. Which definitely tracks, because why would a pretty thing like Steve Harrington want his first time to be with someone like Billy?

"I want to do this, Billy. I just. I don't know what I'm doing. I wanna make it good for you, but-... I'm afraid I'm gunna mess it up."

Billy can relate to that last part, considering he feels two seconds away from blowing his load with a virgin Steve Harrington in his god damn lap. He takes Steve's trembling hands in his own before he speaks.

"Steve, baby. We could literally just sit here and watch a movie and I'd be good with that. You're not gonna mess anything up."

Steve's back to biting his lip, looking at Billy with cautious hope from under floppy brown hair. It's unkempt from how much Steve has been nervously running his hand through it. Billy feels affection tingle through his chest in a sudden rush.

Steve shifts in his lap and it has Billy throwing his head back in a hiss, hitting the couch with a thunk. When he looks back up, Steve is grinning. It's a little wobbly, a little unsure, but genuine. He leans in slow, and when their lips connect it reminds Billy of eating pop rocks on the beach back home. Tingly and warm and so so sweet. Steve pulls back first, Billy leaning forward to chase the taste he knows he'll be craving until the day they put him in the ground.

"Take me to bed Hargrove"

Billy smiles something wicked, tongue between his teeth. In a flash, he's standing with Steve's legs wrapped around his waist, already on his way to carry Steve up the stairs.

"That I can do, pretty boy"

[yikesharringrove]

First thing Billy registered when he woke up, was how fucking hot he was.

Like, just drenched in fucking sweat.

It was gross.

Second thing he registers was that he was not alone in his bed.

And the third thing he registered was that he was not in his bed to begin with.

In fact, he has no fucking clue where he is. And he has no fucking clue who he’s spooned up against.

He shifted as carefully as he could, sliding himself out of the soft bed.

And he’s naked.

And his clothes are all over the floor.

So he had sex last night.

Sex with a boy.

The one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do after having to leave California.

He fucking swore he’d be good, follow the rules.

And here he was, nearly slipping on a used condom as he hopped into his jeans.

Last night had been that stupid fucking Halloween party.

And Billy remembers the specific moment when he’d decided that thing would be more enjoyable if he didn’t remember any of it.

After that is a total blur of alcohol and, by the looks of things, bad homosexual decisions.

He hightailed it out of the boy’s bedroom. The plain, mostly empty bedroom.

He was hoping for maybe some pictures hung along the hallway. Posed family shots that would give away who Billy shoved his dick into last night.

But there was, nothing.

It was all nondescript art like you’d find in a hotel. Nothing to show an actual family lived here.

It was fucking weird.

Even Billy’s house has pictures. True, Billy think he’s only in about three of ‘em, but nonetheless, he’s there. Present and accounted for.

This poor sucker’s got nothing.

And Billy should’ve gotten a look at him. Should’ve tiptoed around the otherside of the bed to glance at who is such a hot goddamn sleeper. Because there’s someone that knows he’s got a penchant for dick, and Billy can’t have rumors going around. Not after last time.

But, fuck it.

He doesn’t wanna risk waking the kid up. Doesn’t wanna risk having to deal with someone clingy. Some small town queer that thinks they’re going steady just because Billy couldn’t keep it in his pants for one fucking night.

But, one thing’s for damn sure. Whoever he fucked is loaded.

This is the biggest house Billy’s ever set foot in.

And he can’t find the fucking front door.

He was beginning to get anxious. Beginning to feel trapped inside the cold mansion. Felt like he’d condemned himself to a life of-

“Hey.”

Billy whipped around, and his heart nearly dropped out his ass when he saw who was standing, barely dressed, on the staircase.

Steve Harrington.

Billy remembers meeting him.

remembers the sinking feeling in his gut as he realized just how fucking pretty Harrington is.

And apparently, stupid black-out drunk Billy had decided to act on that.

“Hey,” Billy said back.

“You looking for the front door?”

“Yeah. Your stupid big house is like a fucking maze.”

Steve huffed a little laugh, folding those long fucking legs under him to sit on the stairs.

“You probably missed it down the hall. They’re big double doors. The lock’s kinda tricky. You gotta push the door on the left to unlock it and then you’re good.”

“Thanks, man.”

Steve gave him a little two-finger salute.

He was sitting in just his boxers, and the way he was hunched over gave him little tummy rolls. Billy slapped himself before he could think they were cute.

“Do I need to bother threatening you?”

Steve laughed again, his nose scrunching up as he did so.

“C’mon. This ain’t my first time at the rodeo. I can keep a secret.”

“Good. ‘Cause if word gets out-”

“Hargrove, I know how this goes. I’ve been queer in a small town a lot longer than you have.”

And Billy couldn’t deny that.

But the fact that Harrington’s slept with other guys...well. Billy had this town pegged all wrong. Figured any secret queers would be well and truly closeted.

But here they are. Billy shouldn’t’ve doubted ‘em.

Which means he might be able to get regular ass while he’s here.

He shook himself.

This was a one-off. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this anymore.

Steve Harrington would be his swan song.

It’s girls or nothing.

And then Steve stretched his legs out on the stairs below him, and he scratched his belly, and smiled at Billy, and Billy wasn’t leaving. He should be leaving.

“Hey, uh, if you ever wanna do this again, you know. I’m around.”

And then it dawned on Billy.

“Don’t you have a girl?”

And Steve’s face fell. He brought a hand up to scrub at his hair.

“Uh, no. Not after last night.” Steve was looking at his feet, reaching down to poke his knee a few times.

And Billy was going to ask what happened, but Steve looked sad. Looked maybe a little heartbroken. And Billy just doesn’t wanna deal with that. Not for the tightest ass in the world.

“Well, I should get going.”

And Steve looked up at him, giving him a sad little smile.

“Sure. See you around, I guess.”

But Billy didn’t move.

He felt rooted to the spot.

Because if Steve Harrington is gonna be the last guy he fucks, he might as well remember it.

“What are you doing tonight? After school?”

And Steve brightened.

“I’ve got practice until five, but then I’m just here.”

“Basketball practice?”

Steve nodded. Billy grinned.

“I’ll see you there.”

And Billy dear God, was Billy gonna have some fun with him.

Tease him and get him all riled up. Follow him home and pound him through the mattress, still covered in sweat from practice, tasting like salt and egging Billy on.

Oh yeah.

He’s got plans.

Because he’s stuck here, right? And if Steve’s been fucking guys without getting caught, Billy can too, right? And maybe it’s best to stick with one person, contain any possible threats. Just fuck Steve when he wants, right?

Yeah.

Billy’s got plans.

[passivenovember]

@coffeeandchemicals (aka the sweetest angel bb) asked:  For the drabbles, 55 or 60 or 72 with harringrove! Please and thank you!! 💙

55. “Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Paper Angels.

The things is. Steve’s always had a sixth sense when it comes to falling in love. Can smell that shit from a mile away, the reeking infatuation that turns his already liquified brain into something like sludge. Mashed potatoes with too much milk, or something. 

And it used to be that Robin would point it out in that usual way of hers, before Steve became a pro at monitoring his own downfall. Pick your tongue up off the floor, dingus. 

And it used to be that Steve would take it like. A basketball to the back of the head, the realization that he was bleeding out in an open field for fucking whoever. Nancy Wheeler or Mark Lewinski or Brittani Clark. Robin could always sense it when Steve’s feelings started leaking out of his ears, but.

Billy Hargrove was something else entirely.

Neither of them saw it coming. The pushes and snarky comments that morphed into butterflies and concealed smiles under the light of the full moon, it was like.

Crossing a deserted road only to be fuckin’. T-boned by a cyclist who doesn’t have their lights on, or something. 

One day they were enemies. Avoiding each other like the plague--Billy actually gagged when Steve passed by him at parties. Called him Steve “Sloppy Seconds” Harrington, and. Yeah. The feeling was fuckin’ mutual, alright?

Because Hargrove always wore too much cologne and Steve had the sneaking suspicion, after that night at the Byers’ when contact sports took on a whole new meaning with the sound of ceramic against his skull, that Billy perfumed his dick.

Sometimes guys did that, he’d heard. And if Steve had to bet, like, cold hard cash on it, Billy Hargrove was definitely one of those guys. And not that Steve really. Thought about it much or anything but kissing Billy was probably like licking the inside of an ash tray. 

Just the thought of made him gag.

So, yeah. The feeling was mutual. The queasiness in Steve’s tummy was, like, disgust or something. Every time he saw that curly top above a sea of drunk high schoolers, he would start sweating a shit.

Bullets. Like he was going to face the electric chair, and. Steve had never thought for even a second that that feeling was mutual. 

That Billy would be anxious to see him. Would escape the moment he heard Steve rounding the corner into whatever lame party was on the ducat this week, so. When they eventually became friends. Best Friends, close as a couple of girls, it felt like Steve had solved the most difficult puzzle in the universe. 

They were shitfaced. Drunk enough to forget ceramic plates and nervous feelings, and Billy had tried to high-five him. Steve, on his way out for a smoke. Passed by with a little, well if it isn’t the leftover turkey, and. It would’ve been cool, but. They missed. 

By a lot. Two guys who never sat on the bench during a game, they. Fuckin’ couldn’t land a high five from less than a foot away and that was it. Billy’s walls crumbled around them like so much graham cracker dust, and. 

His eyes were pretty. Had they always been that pretty? Steve couldn’t remember but then Billy was leaning in, cheeks pink from laughter and whispering, You ain’t half bad, Harrington, into the shell of Steve’s ear. 

Like it was a secret only the two of them could remedy, and. Billy pulled away. Winked, waggled his stupid, ridiculous tongue, and. When he passed by he smelled like summer rain. Black pepper and grapefruit.

Steve closed his eyes and felt the love leaking from his ears.

Shit.

--

After that it was like surviving a forest fire. Billy would show up at Steve’s just before midnight with a six pack of Budweiser and a half smoked joint. On bad day’s he acted like coming to Steve’s house was a chore, like. Steve was holding him at gunpoint, preaching about commitments like Steve had even asked for his company in the first place, and.

On those nights it almost wasn’t worth it. The feeling of being close to Billy, it was. Hard to talk to him. 

And it wasn’t like falling slowly. Through syrup or stacks of blankets, like his usual style, it was like. 

Getting in the car and driving way, into the night, with no map and no funds and no clue of what the end would look like. Steve fell hard and fast and slammed into the ground until he was one with the molten earth, on the good nights, too. When Billy grinned and cracked jokes and fuckin’. Winked. 

So. The good outweighed the bad. For months, for millennia, it seemed. Until Steve couldn’t remember a time when midnight didn’t signal the arrival of love. And he would take it, anything, everything, for just a peak at the person he knew was hidden under all that hairspray and chiseled skin, so.

When Billy showed up one night with his car packed full of shit, Steve grabbed his coat without a word.

What are you doin’, Harrington.

I’m coming with you.

No you aren’t, that’s not. Look. I just came to say goodbye, so.

Not that easy to get rid of. 

Billy tried to fight him, tried to. Hold him off, or something. Like any force in the fucking universe would be strong enough to keep them apart. 

Steve made a face.

And Billy knew what that face meant so he cleaned out the passenger side of the Camaro. Stupid shit like lamps and folded quilts, shuffling it all to the back seat where there was clearly enough space. 

It was almost like. He had known what Steve would do. 

It was like he’d been preparing to say no, baby. I don’t have enough room, see? I’m saddled with more than I can take already, and I just--

Almost like he was hoping Steve would insist, anyway, and.

“Go pack a bag, pretty boy.”

Steve would follow him anywhere.

--

Billy came alive in California. The bad nights stopped existing out in the open air, they hid instead. Under the blanket of nightfall, under the sling of Steve’s arm. They paid extra for a two bedroom apartment on the beach, because.

I’m not expecting you to. Sleep in my bed, Steve.

Right. They were still pretending. 

The second bedroom sat collecting dust. Steve emptied his trash bag of essentials into the dresser in Billy’s room, because. The love was constantly ruining his shirts, these days. 

Steve bled blue and gold. Blatantly. Because he never felt it before, this. Feeling. Like the sand is being washed from his skin. Like he’s curling up in bed after a long day of hard work.

Billy makes him feel that way, so.

Steve can’t hide it. And he doesn’t try to. Not when they watch cartoons together on the couch, not when Billy sucks a hole into his neck under their blanket in their bed and asks, we goin’ steady? Like it’s even a fucking question, or something, but.

Steve realizes they went backwards. Won the game before actually learning the rules. 

Do you wanna go on a date with me? He asks one morning. It’s raining, so Billy isn’t surfing and Steve isn’t sketching out on the porch, and. 

It seems as good a time as any.

Billy has milk running down his chin when he looks up, eyes so blue and wide like he never expected it to fucking happen. Isn’t this a date?

What?

Right now, Billy says through a mouthful of Lucky Charms. We’re eating. Alone. Making eyes at each other over our meal--

Steve snorts. This isn’t a date.

And Billy’s face, fucking. Falls. He rinses his plate in the sink and kinda, doesn’t turn back around. Steve doesn’t know how he fucked it up already. 

Bills?

What’s a date look like then? And that. Makes Steve laugh. 

You’ve been on, like. So many dates, baby. 

Not with you. Billy says flatly. When he turns around again his cheeks are pink. Not from laughter, but. From something else. I never went on any dates with you, so. How would I identify one in a crowd.

And Steve knows. Instantly, knows he’s not going to get out of this one. 

Perfect first date shit, alright, I can. I can do that.  He leans back in the hideous avocado green chair Billy picked out and. Sucks on his bottom lip. We have the day free. Because, um. It’s the off season. Right after labor day and, uh. The shop’s getting ready to shift into winter. 

Billy grins. So in your perfect scenario we’re broke?

Listen, asshole wouldja just--

Alright, baby. Billy sits in the chair across from him and looks, fucking. So pretty in Avocado Green. I’m listening. 

So Steve tells him. Their perfect date begins and ends with ease, it’s as simple as breathing. The way it’s always been for them. Natural. Steve packs a basket with a goddamn. Charcuterie board and like, fresh fruit and shit. The sun sets and Steve gets down on one knee and--

Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Billy doesn’t look even a little bit like laughing, not. Not when his nose goes all bunchy. Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Steve isn’t really in the mood for jokes. 

He covers his face with his hands, because. They went backwards. Never even put labels on it, or second guessed anything because Steve won the lottery. That night when the high fives went up in smoke, he. 

Got everything he ever wanted.

Billy tugs at his wrists. Yanks and soothes and rearranges Steve’s skin until they’re chest to chest against avocado green. His eyes are teary. Fuck.

I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby. Steve says. ‘S a bad idea anyhow, too much pressure. You mean a lot and I fuckin’. Made you cry. Tears were never a part of the deal.

Billy lets Steve wipe his cheeks and then he’s smiling. 

Not grinning or smirking or teasing, but. Happy. We could make this a date.

Steve shrugs. Yeah, I guess we could.

Pack some sandwiches, sit on the patio. Billy winks. Just like all those nights when neither boy could give their emotions a name. Take away some of the pressure. 

I kinda dig the pressure, though.

Were you really gonna get down on one knee? Billy whispers. At the end of our first date? You know the statistics on divorce are--

Against his will, Steve’s chucking. 

And on the first date? Billy tuts, cheeks pink again. You know I don’t put out for any ol’ pair of brown eyes, Harrington. I wait until at least the fourth date.

It’s been five years. 

So marry me. Billy says. On Tuesday or something, we can. Go to the beach or whatever. Elope. 

And. 

Just like that night. With the Camaro stuffed to the brim, and Billy gripping his fingers like a lifeline in a storm, Steve has no choice. He never did, because. Yeah.

He kisses Billy, each cheek, both eyelids, before carrying him to their bedroom and wonders. If they’ll ever start at the beginning.

[prettyboyporter]

It Started Like This

also on ao3

for @lissieisspacey for harringrove for BLM, who wanted the story behind the cat drawn in this art by @artzeppo

1.5k | M 

It started with Steve clearing out his savings account.

He marched into the bank kind of in a daze, and before he knew it he was blinking in front of a teller and saying, I’d like to withdraw all of my money. She gave it to him, baffled, and he looked down at the stacks of bills -- the college fund that his dad had deposited that never came to fruition because no colleges would take him in addition to the tiny amount he’d managed to put in there from his Family Video earnings.

If he was in a daze before, he suddenly moved as if a meteorite would crash into the Earth if he didn’t hurry. He sped home, took the stairs two at a time, flung open two suitcases on his bed and jammed them full of clothes, a handful of pictures, the little league trophy from when he was nine, a few cassettes, and the little stuffed tiger Billy had given him last night that led to their first kiss.

He snapped them closed as soon as they were full, tossed them in the trunk, and squealed his tires as he took the corner hard toward Cherry Lane.

Neil Hargrove was outside watering his lawn when Steve came to a speeding halt in the driveway, sending gravel skittering.

“Can I help you?” Neil asked as Steve bounded up the stairs and let himself into the house.

“Nope, fuck off!” Steve shouted back over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Neil shouted but Steve didn’t hear what came next because he was already standing in Billy’s room, chest heaving, his lungs trying to catch up with the frenzy of activity.

Billy stood up from his bed and faced Steve, shock written all over his expression. “The fuck?”

Steve’s heart was banging against his sternum. He felt like he was going to pass out. “Come with me to California.”

“What?” Billy asked, a little hysterically.

“Pack a bag, Billy. Fuck it. Let’s just go. Me and you.”

Two heavy boot thumps came from Steve in Billy’s doorway. “You’ll go nowhere with this boy,” Neil said from behind Steve’s back.

Fire flared up in Billy’s eyes -- a fire that had been missing during Billy’s strenuous ten-month recovery from Starcourt.

Last night, the first time that Steve had ever kissed Billy, Billy’s eyes were soft and warm as Steve held the little stuffed tiger that Billy had given him.

Right now, Billy’s jaw twitched, and his eyes were cold as ice. “I’ll go where the fuck I want.”

“You’ll do exactly as I-”

Steve turned around and decked Neil, and Neil went down with a loud thump. I won again, Steve thought. Dustin would be proud.

Billy stood wide-eyed, silent. Time stretched out for a few moments as Billy blinked at his father on the ground. “Fuck you Neil,” he whispered down to Neil’s unconscious body splayed on the hallway floor.

Then, he went digging under his bed and pulled out a suitcase. He started emptying the contents of his dresser into it. “See those crates over there? Start dumping shit in them.”

The crates made up part of Billy’s makeshift vanity. Steve’d always felt sad when he looked at it that Billy had to make it himself since his dad didn’t simply buy him one. He pulled apart the vanity and started filling the crates with haircare products and cologne and random items from Billy’s shelf.

They stood at the trunk of the beemer holding all of Billy’s worldly possessions. Billy paused as he looked at the beemer, then looked over at his own car. His expression hardened. “Let’s take the Camaro,” he said. “Let’s bring her home.”

Steve nodded. It made sense. He wasn’t overly-connected with the beemer in any case.

He left the keys in Dustin’s mailbox with a hastily scribbled note on a Burger King napkin.

Dustin would be 16 soon enough, and he deserved to have a good car. The whole thing felt good and right and when they pulled away, Steve wiped at tears that he hoped were inconspicuous.

They make it through Indiana, Illinois, and most of Missouri smiling, whooping, and fist pumping. They blared Metallica and Ratt and Van Halen. The Camaro felt like a roller coaster flying past corn stalks, flitting greens and fields of golden wheat. Steve stuck his hand out the window and felt the breeze flow between his fingers, free and clear.

Billy laced his fingers through Steve’s on the seat between them. They stopped and shared their second kiss after eating, still tasting of greasy burgers and Cokes with the smell of asphalt in the air.

They shared their third kiss when they spent the night at a motel, neon lights in the middle of a dark night, shining through the crack in their curtains as they slept together but kissed lazily and spooned, too tired to take it any further, too drained after a day of driving and intense emotion. Steve buried his nose in Billy’s curls.

Steve drove the next day with Billy’s hand on his thigh. They drove past more corn while Billy complained about Steve’s Lionel Richie tape laming up the aura of his car, then slept, mouth open and aviators dangling off of his ear. His curls blew around in the air from the cracked window.

Eventually the air grew warm and dry around them. Night settled. The stars appeared and the temperature dropped as Billy laid his head on Steve’s shoulder. He wasn’t asleep -- he just rambled about nothing and Steve dropped his arm around Billy’s shoulders.

“You’re good to me, pretty boy,” Billy said as he took a drag off of his smoke.

“Wouldn’t have wanted to run away and join the circus with anyone else,” Steve said. He planted a kiss on Billy’s forehead.

That night as they were bringing their suitcases into their motel room, a tiny little tabby cat brushed in past their legs, jumped up on the bed, and curled up into a ball.

“Fuckin excuse you,” Billy said to the cat. “Our bed. Skidaddle.”

The cat blinked lazily up at Billy.

“You wanna stay here you gotta pitch in for the room, gato,” Billy said as he placed his suitcase on the stand. Steve closed the door.

“Hey. That cat needs to get out. Open the door back up.”

Steve shrugged. “He looks comfy. We should let him stay.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“I don’t. C’mere gato!” Steve said in a high-pitched voice. The cat stood and walked to the end of the bed, raising his little grey head and closing his eyes while Steve scratched his cheeks and behind his ears, under his chin.

Gato started purring.

“I think we have a cat now,” Steve said.

“We don’t have a fucking cat, Steve.”

That night, though, Gato slept on Billy’s chest. And when Steve woke up, Billy was petting him and cooing.

When they got around to loading up the car, Gato walked out with them and jumped up into the Camaro’s back seat when Steve opened the door.

Billy looked at the cat and shook his head. “I guess we have a cat.”

They found a pet store in the phone book and Steve peeled off some of his savings account money for food, litter, a couple of bowls, and a box.

They stopped one more time at a motel. Gato curled up in Steve’s suitcase on top of his clothes while Steve tongue kissed Billy on the bed, heated, dick hard, got down between Billy’s legs, thick thighs under his hands as he sucked and sucked with Billy’s hand on the back of his head.

Billy did the same for Steve on his knees while Steve braced himself against the wall, breathless, in love, so in love, his heart bursting with it as he spilled into Billy’s mouth.

The next day the Welcome to California sign loomed ahead of them and grew larger as they approached.

Billy pulled the car off to the shoulder as they got close to it.

“What’re you doing?” Steve asked.

“Come on,” Billy said as he exited the car.

Steve looked around and couldn’t see why -- they were near the Colorado River so maybe Billy wanted to snap a Polaroid with the camera he’d purchased yesterday.

Gato got out behind Steve and started playing with the brush on the side of the road.

“Gonna carry you across the state line, baby. Here’s our future,” Billy said, gesturing up at the sign. He crouched down. “Get up on my back.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, and as he started to climb up, Gato scurried up Steve’s back and got up on his shoulder. “And you accused me of being romantic.” He leaned down to kiss Billy’s cheek as Billy started walking forward with Steve and Gato on his back.

It started four days ago with Steve clearing out his savings at Hawkins National. It started there, and ended here, in California, where Billy carried them across the state line, where they found a little loft in San Diego that fit their budget, where Steve found work in a bookstore and where Billy got a job in a repair shop.

It started at the bank, and it ended in love.

[deliasbabe]

Dancing Through Our House With The Ghost Of You- Part 2

Billie deals with her own ghosts. Part 3 Coming Soon!

Read Part 1 here.

Words: 3,792

Warnings: Strong Language, Angst, Drunkenness.

“Billie?”

Billie glanced up, preparing for another image of you that would only disappear, but once she locked eyes with you she knew it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. You were dressed in an oversized hoodie Billie had never seen you in before, presumably covering your shorts beneath it. Your hair was shorter and a little lighter, falling in loose waves around your chin. Between Billie’s wine drunk haze and the streetlights glowing behind you, you looked ethereal in every way, her own personal guardian angel.

“What are you doing here?” Billie whispered, confused by your abrupt arrival.

You furrowed your brow, before taking in your ex lover’s obviously inebriated state, “You called me.”

She searched her swirling memory for a moment, trying to recall when exactly she would have called, coming up empty. It must have happened if you were here, standing right in front of her. She didn’t respond, didn’t know what she could possibly say, but you knew that. Instead, you kneeled down in front of her so you were at eye level, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear gently. You always knew exactly what she needed. 

“You’re here.” Billie whispered, almost like she didn’t believe it, like any second you would vanish into thin air and she would be alone once again.

You gave a soft nod, “I am. Now let’s get you moved to the couch, hm?” You had dealt with Billie’s breakdowns before, when her job got too heavy and real for her to handle. You knew her like the back of your hand, but you had never seen her quite like this. You grabbed her hand and tugged her up, depositing her on the couch before heading to the kitchen for some wine. You knew for certain she had already had far too much for a casual evening, but even the simple action of holding the full glass in her hand seemed to calm her, or at least, it used to.

You saw the smoke before you had even entered the kitchen, quickly walking over to the stove and turning it off before depositing the charred remains of the forgotten stir fry in the garbage. Billie was never one for eating more than one proper meal in a day, and you usually had to force her to even eat one, so the chances that she hadn’t eaten were pretty high, and you quickly dialed the pizza place around the corner that you always ordered from. It wasn’t the most nutritious meal, but it was something to help avoid the hangover.

When you returned to the living room with two full wine glasses in hand, Billie had managed to get herself curled up under a blanket, and you were thankful you didn’t see the same emptiness in her eyes that had greeted you upon your arrival. You held out one of the glasses, which she took with shakey hands and a small thank you, before you took up residence on the opposite side of the couch, tucking your knees under you in the way you always did, like this place was still your home and nothing had changed.

Billie glanced at you for a moment, “Since when do you drink red?”

You gave a gentle laugh, “It was all you had. Did you just get back?”

Billie nodded slightly, “You look good.”

“Thank you.” You said politely, knowing Billie was always the charmer. But to you, it didn’t feel like a compliment, it felt like a distraction.

“What have you been up to?” Billie asked, making polite chit chat like you didn’t just see her at her worst. It was the only thing she could think of to do. She didn’t know what exactly she had said to you, but it had to have been pretty bad for you to show up after what she did.

You knew it was just her trying to skirt around the pressing issue, likely due to embarrassment. Still, you feared that emptiness returning once again, so you indulged her, “I went home for the summer, spent time with my parents. I just… I needed to get out of LA. It was good for me.”

Billie nodded, she knew you always hated the city, that it made you feel like you were drowning. You two had talked about moving away together, but with her job, she was always tied to LA, or at least California. She still was having trouble saying anything, because there was so much she wanted to say, but the words were tied down, lodged in the pit of her stomach and sinking. 

“Did you find any particularly scary ghosts while abroad?” You ask, your tone slightly teasing, which only made the woman smile.

“No,” She said with a laugh, “I couldn’t understand half of them.”

You snickered, “Kind of fucked up that even ghosts have a language barrier.”

 And oh, Billie was swooning at your candor. It was one of her favorite things about you, how you always seemed to know just how to break the tension, how to draw her out of even her darkest moments and make her see the light. But nothing about this was light, not with the guilt pressing on her shoulders with every kind word you spoke. You should have been angry, furious with her. Every word should have been biting, calloused, cold, but then again, it was you. She focused on her wine, swirling it for a moment, if only to give her a second to think. You noticed, you always noticed. “You don’t want it?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“No, I do.” Billie said, shaking her head, “I just haven’t eaten. My dinner is still on the stove.”

“Your dinner is in the garbage.” You joked, “You may have let it cook for just a tad too long.” You watched the medium bite her lip as a blush creeped up her cheeks, an unusual sight, “I ordered pizza. It should be here soon.” Billie met your gaze, but only briefly before she looked away and nodded, finally taking a sip of the wine. “So what happened, Bill?” You asked softly, pushing just enough.

“I didn’t tell you?” Billie asked quietly, shifting her gaze to stare at her lap.

“You said you were seeing ghosts.” You responded.

Billie pursed her lips, “I was.”

“You don’t have any ghosts.” You stated.

Billie gave a soft sigh, “I do now.”

You chuckled softly, “Did someone die while I was away?”

“I saw you.” Billie said bluntly, tired of whatever dance she was forcing you to partake in. Billie always liked games, but she couldn’t bear to do it with you, not anymore.

Billie glanced up as your face fell solemn, and she hated herself for forcing you to take on more of her pain. This was her fault, all of it. She shouldn’t have called you. You were quiet for a moment, nodding slightly, “You haven’t been back since it happened, have you?” Billie shook her head, embarrassed. “Yea, that’ll do it. It happened to me too, when I went back to my apartment.” You said, trying to let her know she wasn’t alone, “That’s why I left for a while, to give me time to… deal with it, I guess.”

“Have you?” Billie asked, secretly terrified of the answer, of being alone in this torture.

You chuckled lightly, “Well I’m here, so I’ll let you be the judge.”

The answer was very you, but it was also very telling. You always dropped everything to be there for her, regardless of what she had done, and although Billie was thankful for it, it also made her heart ache. She hurt you, and you were still here, still picking up her broken pieces when she was too proud to pick up yours. You were ten times the person she would ever be, and you deserved better than her, but all she could think about was how you were inches away from her, how she could lean over and kiss you and everything would be ok again.But before she could make her move, the doorbell rang, and with it the urge was taken out like the tide. 

Billie took a moment to compose herself as you grabbed the food, wiping at her smudged makeup and smoothing down her hair, smiling when you returned with on very large pizza box in hand. It seemed utterly absurd to order that much food for just two people, but you always had been the planner, and you knew the medium well enough to assume it would be days before she made it to the grocery store. At least this way she had some leftovers to carry her through. 

“Let’s get some food in you.” You teased, handing the woman a greasy slice. She nibbled on it for a moment, not really sure she actually even wanted to eat, as you looked around. “Where is your assistant?” You asked.

“Hm?” Billie responded.

“Your assistant?” You asked casually, “I’m sure you got a new one. You used to have me here from the moment you woke up until you went to bed, even when we weren’t together.”

“That’s because I liked you.” Billie said, trying to hide behind a teasing tone. You weren’t wrong, she did have you there constantly, but that was because she had feelings for you. She made it seem like it had always been that way, but the truth of it was it was just you, her previous assistants she hardly ever called on, she just preferred to handle things herself.

“And you don’t like her?” You teased back, watching your ex avert her gaze and shrug, which told you everything you needed to know. “Ah, got it.” You said with a laugh, trying to diffuse the tension.

“It was a long trip.” Billie said defensively. It was a half assed attempt and she knew it, but god forbid she say she actually missed you.

You held your hands up in mock surrender, “Hey, I don’t really have room to judge anymore. Not hard to fall in love with the boss.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone else. It’s been almost a year.” Billie said, knowing she was only trying to crush her own heart, beat it into submission with the idea that you really had moved on, that she wasn’t as important as she thought she was.

You gave a half-hearted shrug, not wanting to make the woman feel any worse, but Billie knew what it meant, because it was you. You weren’t the type to fall into bed with just anyone. Sure, you weren’t a virgin when you met, but your body count was confined to one hand, two fingers. Billie, and that guy from college that you swore you were going to marry, until you realized he was a dick and you deserved better. You always were her better half, the only one that seemed to quell her endless impulses. She was better because of you, and then she had to blow it all to shit.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Billie asked as your eyebrows furrowed, “That night, when I made you leave. Why didn’t you stop me?” The question seemed out of the blue, but really it was something she had been agonizing over for months. It wasn’t the first time Billie had acted out and tried to break things off, but it was the first time you didn’t fight back, didn’t force her to sit down and prevent the forest fire erupting inside of her. For as rash as she was, you were the voice of reason, or you had been until that night. That night you just let it burn, let her tear down the house you built brick by brick and swim in the ashes, alone.

“Because I knew I couldn’t.” You said after a moment, taking a note from Billie’s book and staring at your glass of wine as you swirled it around the rim, “You had to figure it out on your own.”

Billie set her jaw, hating that you always seemed to be 10 steps ahead of her, “Figure what out?”

“Why did you call me over here, Billie?” You fired back as you snapped your gaze up, almost like a challenge. You had tried to pull the answer out gently, a subtle game of tug of war, but she was locked up tight, and you were tired of being gentle. Being gentle is what got you into this mess in the first place. 

But Billie was her own special kind of stubborn, and your aggression just made her dig her heels in, “I don’t even remember calling you.”

Still, you weren’t going to give up just yet, “But you did.”

Billie straightened her shoulders and picked up her wine, “But I did.”

You let out a barely audible grunt, standing from the couch and collecting the still full pizza box and your wine, heading to the kitchen. You didn’t know why you answered her call, but you did, and now you were here, playing some fucked up game of poker. You both knew why she called, but she wouldn’t say it, and you were about five seconds from exploding. 

“What are you doing?” Billie asked in a sarcastic tone, trying to suppress the overwhelming fear that was carving its way into her bones. She hated this, hated knowing you had the upper hand, that you could say and do whatever you wanted and she would buckle instantly. She hated that her heart raced every time you left the room, that she felt every single millimeter of distance between you, hated that the only thing she wanted was to close that gap and be in your arms. It was easy to say she hated you. Hate was easier to deal with, hate lived inside your soul and no one else’s. Hate didn’t need constant validation or reassurances. Hate was solitary, stable, it didn’t fade with time, not like love did.

“Cleaning up. I’m going to get you into bed and then I’m going to go.” You said flatly, forcing yourself to strip every ounce of emotion from your tone. You couldn’t force her to talk to you, but you could make the decision to leave before she kicked you out again.

“Go?” Billie asked, cursing herself for the tears she felt welling up and the rise in her pitch.

“Yea, back to…” You trailed off before shaking your head, “I have to go.”

Billie cleared her throat, trying to keep herself in check, “You could just stay here.” She glanced back at you and you shook your head, and Billie hated how her chest got tight at the very idea of you being gone, of her being alone in this house once again, “You’ve been drinking.”

“I didn’t drive.” You said, crossing your arms and fixating on a scuff on the floor.

“Y/n. Stay, please…” Billie said weakly, blinking rapidly as if that would make the impending waterworks come to a halt.

“That isn’t a good idea….” You said, pausing for a moment and shaking your head before heading back into the kitchen to finish up. If you stayed, it would only prolong whatever this was. You hated hurting her, but you also hated how she made you feel. She made you feel crazy, and there was nothing you hated more than that.

Billie knew she was royally fucking this up, as she always did. It shouldn’t have been hard, just three words, I love you, and everything would be fixed. What was she so afraid of? That she would lose you? She already lost you, and she would again if she didn’t just say the damn words.

Sucking in a deep breath, she untangled herself from the blankets and slowly walked towards the kitchen, trying to mentally prepare herself. “You know… when I was in Europe, there was this one ghost I met.” She said, waiting for you to show some kind of response before she continued. It took a moment, but you finished washing the pan you were working on and laid your palms flat on the edge of the sink, turning your head towards her, “He had been in the war, shipped out the day he turned eighteen. He didn’t want to go, but he didn’t have a choice. He had a girlfriend, wanted to marry her, but he never told her he loved her. He regretted it, obviously, but he didn’t think he was going to come back, didn’t want her to have to deal with that kind of loss. He didn’t come back, he died in the trenches, but he wished he would have told her, even once. I did some research, found her. She was 85, got married and had six kids, a bus load of grandchildren. I explained everything to her, told her who I was. You know what she said to me when I told her?”

“What?” You asked with a gravelly voice, and Billie waited a moment until you looked up at her, “What, Bill?”

“She said she already knew. She always knew, even though he could never say it. He was the love of her life, of course she knew. He had spent years, trapped by this guilt, and she knew the entire time.” Billie said softly, shaking her head, “All those years… wasted, wandering around, all for nothing.”

“That’s not why he was trapped.” You blurted, clenching your jaw as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel, “He wasn’t trapped because he thought she didn’t know, he was trapped because she knew and he still didn’t have the guts to say it, because then it was real. Not saying it… it doesn’t make it easier, it just makes you a coward, lets you hide in plain sight. She knew, but there was always an uncertainty about it.” You felt the tears beginning to pile up behind your eyelids, tried to swallow down the thickness in your voice before you cleared your throat, “That’s why he was trapped. That’s what kept him here.”

Billie dropped her head, giving a solemn nod. You were right, you always were right. She was a coward, terrified to give up even an ounce of control. She always was so detached, aloof, at least before you. Now, things were different, and she was struggling to catch up.

When you were the one to break the silence, Billie was surprised, shooting her head up. “I’m glad you were able to help her, though. Make it concrete or whatever. Even if it did take 60 years, it’s better than nothing.” You said, walking towards the center of the room and shuffling your feet, like you were only seconds from gathering your things and walking out the door. 

Your mask was quickly slipping, and now Billie knew for certain that you were still in pain, not that she couldn’t assume it already. You were always just so damn good about hiding your feelings, about putting everyone else above yourself, like you didn’t matter. She could see your hurt plain as day now, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. She could feel the words bubbling up in her stomach, but they would lodge in her throat, making it hard to even breathe. She had to kiss you, had to do it right then and there, because it was the only way she knew how to convey every single thing she was feeling for you. She told you she loved you with every kiss, every touch. It was easy to love you that way, but the words were harder, more complicated and weighted.

She moved towards you without even thinking, and you stepped back, playing that game over and over until you were pressed up against the counter with nowhere to run. “Billie…” You whispered, pressing your hands on her shoulders to keep her just out of range.

“Just let me show you.” Billie pleaded, your faces only inches apart. If you would just release your grip, even just a hair, she would be able to do it.

“We can’t.” You stated, holding firm.

“Why not?” Billie practically whined.

“Because I won’t wait 60 years.” You shot back.

“Do you still love me?” Billie asked.

“You know I do.” You said with a sigh, relieved when Billie finally stopped pushing against you, but she still was close, too close. Close enough that you were teetering on the edge of losing all willpower and burrowing into her arms.

“Y/n, I was scared out of my mind. The accident….” Billie fumbled, trying to put a million complicated feelings into one simple sentence.

You nodded slightly, “I know.”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I can’t lose you.” Billie said firmly.

“I told you I loved you and you kicked me out.” You stated, the bitterness creeping its way into your tone.

Billie softened, “I know, and I’m sorry, I am. Sweetheart, you know I care about you.”

You swallowed thickly, “And I care about you, you know I do.”

“Then stay.” Billie said, drawing out every letter.

You shook your head, “It’s not that simple.”

Billie was emphatic now, practically wailing, “It is, I love you and you love me.” She didn’t even realize she was saying it, the words slipping out so effortlessly the second she wasn’t thinking about it. But something changed in the expression on your face, and she had to ask, “What?”

“Say it again.” You insisted.

“What? That I love you and you love me?” Billie asked, the words taking a moment to register, a brief moment of panic rushing through her irises. Her shoulders relaxed, like a weight had been lifted, and she looked back at you. “I love you.” She said, like she was realizing it for the first time, like she hadn’t spent months staring at the wall and thinking it over and over again.

You let out an amused, breathy laugh, “Wasn’t so scary, was it?”

“Terrifying, actually.” Billie said, eyes wide like she was still considering taking it back.

“Only when you thought about it.” You teased, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips.

The medium started fidgeting, like a kid anxiously awaiting a treat, “Can I kiss you now?” She needed reassurance, needed something familiar to remind herself she wasn’t alone in this, that the words didn’t just simply vanish into thin air, that all her anxiety and suffering wasn’t for nothing. Your grin grew wider, and she instinctually stepped forward, leaning into you, but at the last moment you stepped back.

“No, but you can take me upstairs.” 

[theonewiththefanfics]

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 1/?)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, implied SMUT

Warnings: implied SMUT but not full on, blood, gore, mentions of death and injuries, mentions of abuse, swearing, mentions of anxiety and PTSD

Word count: 5007

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

Billy was a sight for sore eyes as he stepped out from the ocean, blond curls stuck to his head much like his swim trunks to his legs, the board slapped under his armpit as he shook out the warm droplets from his locks.        He ran past a little girl with light hair as she built a sandcastle and dropped down next to Y/N, who had been hiding under an umbrella to escape the direct heat of the day, a book clutched between her fingers.        “You gotta come into the water,” he groaned and laid down on his back onto the sheet, eyes locked onto hers that were hidden behind sunglasses. “It’s amazing.”        And it was. Everything was amazing ever since they’d fucked out of Hawkins. He was a different man; he had scars to prove it. The second September had rolled around, and he had been discharged from the hospital, Billy had gathered his stuff, Y/N hers, and together they’d made their way to California.        “I bet it is,” she mumbled still not looking down at him, “but stuffs getting pretty amazing here as well,” she nodded with her chin to the book where the main character was gearing up for the final showdown.        Billy huffed and rolled on top of Y/N’s legs making her grunt as she felt his weight settle on her thighs, and his hand snatched away the book, but not before dogearing the page.        “Yeah, well, the weather report says it’s gonna be pretty shit for the next two weeks, so why don’t you keep that for when we can’t get outside the apartment, and get a bit wet right now,” his tone was sultry and suggestive even though he meant it in a bit different of a way than usual. But Y/N could also play that game.        “I dunno,” she slid her palm up his chest noting how her blue nail polish had chipped away at the edges, “I’d like it if it was you making me wet.”        She got the reaction she had hoped. Billy moaned dropping his head to her chest, and his hands wove around her waist gripping at her sides as if she’d disappear unless he held onto her.        For so long it had felt that way. Y/N had been an enigma when he’d first seen her. She had made sure everyone in Hawkins knew – she was back. 

       Def Leppard blasted through the air as she drove inside the school’s parking lot, hands tapping against the wheel to the rhythm of the song. Billy’s eyes had immediately latched on to the Oldsmobile 442 and the Y/H/C haired kid who jumped out of it.        “Don’t be late, I have shit to do!” a girl hollered after the boy as she stepped out of the car, but he just held up a middle finger in response, as she heard his old friends scream in excitement seeing Alex return to their group.        “Is that Y/N Y/L/N or are my eyes deceiving me?” Steve Harrington’s annoying voice was next, but the smile that the girl threw his way from where the other guy was coming behind him, knocked Billy off balance. He didn’t even know her, yet he was already done for it.        “I dunno,” she bounded over to Steve and wrapped him in a tight hug, making Billy suck harsher on the cigarette between his lips. “Is that the King of Hawkins or just a dick?”        Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t even get the chance to say he’d been dethroned a year ago when Nancy’s squeal made him put his hands over his ears.        “Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re back!” she leapt out of Johnathan’s car without even waiting for him to properly stop.        “Better believe it, Nance!” Y/N muttered in the crook of her best friend’s neck. “Hawkins!” she suddenly hollered. “Your heart and soul is back!”        Billy had watched the interactions without even a word, just admiring the stranger with the shining Y/E/C eyes before Tommy and Carol broke the silence with a scoff.        “Can’t believe that bitch is back," she mumbled under her breath.        “What?” Billy whipped his head to the side and saw Tommy shake his head.        “After Barb went missing, she moved to New York. The Big Apple for fuck’s sake.” Seeing the blond’s raised eyebrow, he elaborated. “They were best friends. Guess it took a toll on her, and she couldn’t stay here anymore. The chick’s really an idiot if she’s back. Fuck, what wouldn’t I give to live in New York?”        Carol only sneered. Y/N had been one of the most popular girls in school, but she hadn’t been a bitch or stuck up, and every guy seeing her step out of the car in the mornings would instantly start to drool at the sight of her.        “Hey Y/L/N!” Carol yelled over the commotion of the arriving students and plastered on a fake smile, drawing Y/N’s attention to her group. When Billy saw her eyes scan over him, he felt an unfamiliar feeling settle in the pit of his stomach. He bristled a bit as she gave him a small smile before giving Carol the attention she craved. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d forget our small town after moving to the East coast.”        But Y/N just shrugged leaning against Steve’s side. “Hawkins has it’s… charm.” She was not going to admit that the real reason her mom had moved them to New York was because of her anxiety and PTSD since the Demogorgon incident had been so bad she spent her nights jolting awake every five minutes. Thinking it was because of Barb’s disappearance her mother decided to take Y/N away from the place that stimulated those fears.        Now that she was done with therapy, they’d come back for senior year. Despite everything, Hawkins was her home.        Billy snorted at her response, and that only made her raise her eyebrow. “Hawkins’s a shithole.”        “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” Y/N winked in his direction, making a smirk appear on his face. Yeah. He liked her a lot already.        “You going to Tina’s bash tonight?” Carol butted in, popping the bubble she’d made with her gum.        “Depends, are you gonna be there?”        Carol scoffed. “Of course. Everyone who knows what fun is, will be there.”        “Then Imma pass,” Y/N gave her a sarcastic smile. “Don’t want my night ruined by a bitch in faux leather pants.”        Steve, Nancy and Johnathan all let out small laughs as she turned around, hooking her elbow through Steve’s and Nance’s arms making their way into the school, and leaving behind the new king with his lackeys.        But Billy had to just make her notice him fully. “Hey sweetheart!” he hollered, making Y/N turn around and smirk. “And if I said I was gonna be there to keep her away from you?”        “I dunno,” she yelled back at him. “Are you gonna save me a dance?”        “I’ll save the whole night for you!”        Y/N gave him a wide smile and skipped backwards, not giving him an answer. As the bell rang, he yelled again after her, but she just waved her hand above her head and disappeared into the crowd.        In the end, she had shown up at the party. With AC/DC’s TNT roaring through the house, Y/N had pulled Nancy and Steve along. Johnathan was back at his house, Will and the rest of the Party welcoming Alex back with their usual D&D match, but because Joyce had to take a late shift, he was stuck there babysitting.        “I’ll get us drinks,” Steve said over the loud noises and the counting as someone was doing a keg stand.        The two girls nodded, and Y/N started to sway to the rhythm of the music.        “He’s bad news, I’m telling you,” Nancy repeated for like the twentieth time that day.        “I’m not going to do anything, Nance, come on,” she whined and chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a hot piece of ass, but you mess with my friends, you mess with me. I was just trying not to be a complete bitch.”        “I mean that’s pretty impossible, but sure,” Carol’s sarcastic voice invaded their conversation, and Y/N had to give herself a mental pep talk to not clock the other girl in her teeth. Some things had changed in Hawkins, but that hadn’t.        Turning around she put a hand on her hip and tilted her head. “Takes one to know one.”        “Don’t be a dick, Carol,” Billy interrupted before she could sneer a response. “Besides, I think I saw Tommy sucking Vicky’s face so you might wanna check up on that.”        With a flick of her hair, she stomped away weaving between the already drunk and the about to be drunk people.        “I didn’t need you to save me,” Y/N remarked. “Let alone from Carol. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s harmless.”        “Yes, well, I did promise to keep her away from you,” Billy turned his charm on from ten to one-hundred as usually by that point the girl was ready to slip to her knees, but not her.        “That’s before I found out that the biggest dick is not the one between your legs, but just you.”        “Come on, dollface,” he leaned against the doorway where she’d remained as Nancy had gone to look for Steve and what was taking him so long to get the drinks, “you told me to save you a dance,” Billy said through a sly smile, but his heart dropped to his stomach when she responded, arms crossed over her chest. Usually, when a girl did that, his eyes immediately would flit down to be greeted by a gorgeous sight, but Y/N’s face had none of the light-heartedness that he’d seen in the morning.        “And it turns out, you beat up one of my best friends, and a middle schooler last year. I don’t deal with shitbags like that.”        Billy’s jaw clenched as Y/N turned around and ventured into the kitchen having given up on her two friends to find their way back. They’d meet at some point.        “Yeah, well it was warranted.”        “Really?” she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow downing a cup of Pure Fuel like it was nothing when even Billy scrunched up his face while drinking that piss. “So, what did Lucas, a thirteen-year-old did so bad that he deserved to be smashed against the wall by practically a grown up?”        He hated being called out like that, the fist at his side balling up in anger as Y/N just stared at him unwavering and steady.        “Thought so,” she muttered, grabbed another drink and ducked under his arm that had been placed by her head        For the first time in his life, he said, “How do I make it better?” as she turned to look at him where he remained in his spot.        “You start with an apology,” and then she was lost between the moving bodies. He’d searched for Y/N throughout the night but was unable to come upon the feisty new-girl-that-was-not-so-new, and somehow, he knew she wouldn’t show up unless things changed.        And though he hated change because nothing good had ever come out of it, he actually tried. The next day after basketball practice Billy had apologized, through gritted teeth and clenched fists, but he had asked Steve’s forgiveness, and that same evening he’d followed Max inside the arcade to see Lucas and say he was sorry.        Despite how he had started off the previous year as the Keg King and the newly crowned King of Hawkins, slowly Billy started to clean up his act. Sure, he never backed down from a fight once he was involved making sure the person knew not to mess with him, but he no longer instigated them, unless it was warranted, and the walls he had so meticulously built around his heart were broken down brick by brick by a girl with a wide smile and eyes that sparkled like the stars in the sky.        The following summer changed everything though. As he’d gotten a job at the local pool in order to gather a bit of money for when he’d skip town for California, an alien from another dimension had taken control of his body. It was right after their eight-month anniversary as he’d taken Y/N to see Terminator because of her incessant begging, his world had been turned upside down. Literally.        Billy was basically a prisoner in his own mind, made to watch how his hands had wrapped around Y/N’s throat at one point and squeezed so hard that she’d passed out. It was Eleven’s harsh slam of telekinetic power that sent him through the concrete wall of the boy’s locker room at the pool, that somewhat allowed him to understand what was happening.        But it was far from over. Only when the Mind Flayer had brought its monster to the mall, Eleven limply hanging over his shoulder as he placed her on the floor did his eyes snap to the back of the court and zeroed in on his girlfriend’s face. More so the blue-black bruises that adorned her neck like a brutal chain.        Fireworks exploded all around him, and he felt the Mind Flayer recoil in pain from the flashes. It was Y/N firing a shotgun to take its attention off of the incapacitated girl when Billy was able to fully break free from the grasp, it had on him.        Two tentacles latched onto his sides, but the pain would all be worth it if he could make it right. He’d been the one to screw everything up. He had to make it right.        One that was aimed dead centre on his heart came flying out of its mouth, but it never struck. It hovered in the air a bit, as Billy saw Eleven’s outstretched hand keeping it away, and then next motion was a leaping Y/N with an axe in her hand chopping away at the limbs before the Mind Flayer retreated and stumbled all around as it screeched loudly at the feeling of the Gate being closed.        The last thing Billy saw before the monster the Mind Flayer had created fell dead, was Y/N’s face with tears streaming down it, her gentle palms holding onto his cheeks, and he heard Max calling his name.        He woke up in absolute agony, his sides burning and screaming from where the thing had latched onto him. After having heard Billy’s whimpering, Y/N’s head shot up from where she’d fallen asleep and called for a nurse. As he was sedated once more, he had dozed off to the soft whispers of her voice telling him it would all be okay. He wasn’t alone. And she’d be right there. His father hadn’t even visited, but Y/N never left. Never would.        And she was right there. Sunglasses pushed up to her forehead and smirking at him, gentle palms having settled on the nasty scars that adorned his sides. Y/N still loved him despite that.        “Trust me,” he groaned coming back to the reality of California and out the memories that had been his senior year and summer in Hawkins. “I wanna do that so bad, and I know I don’t have to do much to have you writhing and panting my name,” Billy leaned down and bit her earlobe, hearing Y/N’s shaky exhale. “And I will when we’re home, don’t you worry… but first, we gotta catch the little monster!”        He flipped around and grabbed at the little girl that had stopped playing in the sand and had decided to sneak up on the pair.        “Daddy, no!” her loud squeals as Billy tickled her sides were echoed by the other kids also laughing somewhere down the beach.        “You think you can sneak up on us and not suffer the consequences?” he gently lifted the toddler in the air and blew raspberries on her stomach making her laugh harder than before.        “Mommy, save me!”        “Sorry, hunny,” Y/N replied placing her sunglasses back on her nose, “I can’t hear you!”        But the girl just laughed harder, and Billy’s smile widened. This was his life now. A kid, a wife, a beautiful apartment that overlooked the beach. He’d gotten his dream despite all the shit that had happened, despite the shit his dad had put him through, calling him worthless and a waste of breath, Billy had proved him wrong.        Well, Neil didn’t know that. The only person in Hawkins he still kept in contact with was Max, who was also the only person in his family that knew about his marriage and baby girl Clara. He wasn’t going to let Neil taint the one pure thing in his life.        “Mommy save me from the tickle monster!” her daughter screamed as she was running to jump in Y/N’s arms, Billy chasing the three-year-old. She was just about to let Clara leap in her lap when her little fingers dug in her own sides, grabbing at the skin and tickling her.        “You traitors!” Y/N laughed seizing her daughter and returning the favor.        That’s how their day went – giggling and relaxing by the beach, with Billy surfing the waves of the Pacific Ocean and helping Clara build sand castles from time to time. As the sun slowly dipped closer to the horizon, they gathered their stuff and placed everything in the Camaro that Billy still couldn’t let go of.        Their cat Thor greeted the trio as they finally arrived home, Y/N having been and still being a nerd in her own right.        “Kitty!” Clara squealed, and the cat dashed away from her grabby hands.        “Come on,” Y/N sighed placing the big beach bag on the floor and putting her daughter on her hip, “let’s go get a bath, otherwise you’ll make the house one big sand pit.”        The apartment was beautiful, and every day Billy marvelled as to how they’d gotten there. He had actually been a really good student despite his antics. His dad would have his ass if his grades dipped down below a B-.    When they arrived in San Diego, he was going to apply for a local auto shop to work as a mechanic, but Y/N had come into their beat-up studio apartment with a flyer that advertised an accountant’s position at the same agency she worked at.        “You’ve always been good with numbers,” she’d mumbled while handing him the flyer. “Why not try and get an interview? It wouldn’t hurt, would it?”        It truly amazed Billy as to how much faith Y/N had in him. She pushed the man to do things that were out of his comfort zone, but never in a violent way. If he said no, she’d back off, though remained encouraging. She was the reason he’d gotten into university in the first place, and she was the reason the two of them were in their final year of it, with him majoring business management and her photography and journalism.        “Okay,” he’d sighed. “I’ll call them up tomorrow.”        He actually had. Y/N had helped him button up his wide-open shirt and made sure he was as presentable as possible.        “Good luck,” she’d leaned over to his side and given him a kiss before bounding off to her own office leaving him to rehearse for the questions that could be asked.       It could’ve gone better but it also could’ve gone worse. A week later he’d had a job offer, and let’s just say, the next day Y/N went to her job with a noticeable limp which her co-workers teased her relentlessly about.        Slowly but steadily they climbed the ranks of the PR company, and a year later, they had enough money to put down a deposit for a beautiful double bedroom apartment that overlooked the Pacific, because by that point, for Billy it was no longer to provide for Y/N and give her the best possible, nor was it to spite Neil who was still doing the odd job in Hawkins. It was to give the bean growing inside of his girlfriend the utmost that he could.        And he had. Billy had made sure of it.    A week after Clara was born, despite his protests that Y/N should not get out of bed and should rest, they went to the courthouse and got married.        Max had been pissed off that she wasn’t invited to the wedding, and that he hadn’t informed her he was a father the second Y/N found out she was pregnant, but Billy had just taken the berating through the phone with a soft smile on his face as he watched his wife give his daughter breakfast.        “You’re not even listening to me are you, shitbag?” Max sighed rolling her eyes.        “Nope,” Billy replied, the smile never fading. “Not one bit.”        That smile hadn’t disappeared even now three years later. As he got ready to prepare them a homemade meal, because both of them had been quite lazy during their time off work, the phone rang.        “Hargrove’s,” he grunted and heard a ‘yeah, no shit,’ from the other side of the line.        “Hello to you too, Maxine.”        “Call me that again, and I’ll knock out your teeth. We’ll see if Y/N likes you when you’re missing some of those pearly whites.” As an almost eighteen-year-old the redhead had sure become even more spunky than he remembered.        Billy heard the water running indicating that Clara was having her bath. “Listen, I don’t have much time, the girls will be out soon, and I haven’t started dinner.”        “Aww,” Max cooed. “Look at what a doting husband you are.”        “Unless you want your skateboard showed down your throat, you’ll shut it, and tell me what’s happening.”        “My graduation’s happening, that’s what… and I was wondering if you and Y/N were coming.”        Of course, Billy remembered that Max was a senior now, but he hadn’t really intended on driving back to Hawkins. Ever. They’d talked about her flying out to California during the summer, but he’d been quite clear he wanted nothing to do with Neil, and unfortunately that meant missing Max’s big day.        “Look,” he heard her sigh, and the water turned off in the bathroom. “I know you didn’t leave things the best way here but… I miss you,” it sounded like it pained Max to say, and Billy smirked, “and I miss Y/N, and I’d really appreciate if you two came.”        He heard the little pitter patter of Clara’s feet as she rushed to the living room and leapt up to the sofa, her tiny body adorned by a Winnie the Pooh robe, and Y/N’s shirt was very much so splashed by soap water.        “Max?” she mouthed in his direction, and he nodded.        “I don’t know if we can afford much more time off or find Clara a nanny in such short notice.” There were only two and a half weeks left until the ceremony, and though it was only half true, they were actually real issues. He knew Y/N was definitely going back, her brother was graduating as well, so he had decided to stay with their daughter while she was there for a bit.        “Then bring her with,” Max whined. “You know I love that little gremlin.”        “Hey, watch your mouth, that’s my gremlin you’re talking about,” but where once there would be animosity in his tone, nothing but love could be heard now. Almost five years away from Neil did wonders. “Besides, I don’t want him anywhere near her, so if we’re going, Clara’s staying in San Diego. You’ll be able to see her when you get here.”       “Fine,” Max grumbled. “Just please call me sometime this week, if you’re coming.”        He sighed and looked over his shoulder where his girls were making them dinner because he’d been preoccupied with the call, Clara holding the jar of sauce. “I’ll talk to Y/N, and we’ll figure something out.”        “Okay,” she sighed in defeat. “Tell your wife and kid I love them. Bye.”        “Yeah, yeah, whatever, bye.”        The thought of seeing Neil or Susan made the rage that had been flushed out of his system years ago, come back with a vengeance, but it melted away the second Clara asked, “Who was that daddy?”        He turned back to face his family and shook his head with a smile, bringing the blonde girl to his lap as Y/N placed plates of spaghetti Bolognese in front of them. “Just Max.”        “Is she coming?” Clara gasped in excitement.        “A bit later in the summer, you know that.”        “But I want now!”        “Clara,” Y/N soothed the toddler that was about to throw a tantrum, but there was a warning edge for her to behave in her tone. “You know Max can’t right now. She’ll finish school, and then she’ll come for a visit.”        But their daughter crossed her tiny arms over her chest and turned away her head when Billy tried to put the food in her mouth. “I hate school. School stupid.”        “Clara! What did we talk about using those kinds of words?” Y/N scolded her.        She didn’t even respond, her Y/E/C eyes looking at the wall.        “Clara,” Billy said her name in a low tone. His temper was always in check around the two, he’d never let anything jeopardize the best thing in his life, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t strict when needed. “Answer your mom.”        “Only grown-ups can use them,” Clara mumbled and accepted the fork of spaghetti, her arms still crossed.        “And are you a grown-up?”        “No,” she grumbled again but it came out unintelligible because of her chewing.        Billy just chuckled as did Y/N. They cleaned their plates in silence, the only other sounds being the honks of cars down in the streets of San Diego before he pulled her out of the chair, and her small fingers wrapped themselves in his curly hair. He’d still kept it long saying it was too much trouble to go to a barber, but he had been considering cutting it, though, in moments like these, where one of his girls softly carded their fingers through the locks, he instantly decided not to.        “Come on, you little Terminator,” he huffed and plopped down on her bed. “Let’s get you to sleep.”        “Monsters?” Clara extended a finger and pointed at her closet. Billy was up and throwing the doors open, pushing her little dresses, shirts and pants aside. If only she knew how real monsters were.        “None.”        “Under the bed?’        Crouching down he looked at the carpeted floor and shook his head. “Nope, not one.”        “Okay,” she said through a sleepy yawn. A few more seconds later, Billy stood up pecked her forehead and whispered a ‘goodnight princess’, but she was already out like a light.        He found Y/N washing up the last of the dishes, and his face immediately fell to the crook of her neck as his arms wrapped around her waist bringing their bodies flush against one another.        “Max asked to come to her graduation?” her fingers were damp with dishwater as she wove them through his placing the last plate to dry on the rack.        “Mhm,” Billy mumbled. “And I wanna go. I actually do, it’s just… I can’t’ have him ruin the one good thing in my life. I can’t have that asshole taint this…”       He meant his new life. Neil hadn’t even met Y/N properly, just seen how she had climbed in Billy’s car one time, and once his son had come back from his date, regarded to her as just ‘one of his new sluts’, so there was no way Billy would let him anywhere near his wife.        “He won’t,” she had turned to face him now, running a cold thumb across his cheek. “Not if you let him. We’ll be there for Max and Alex and all of those other little shitheads. Not for Neil or anyone else.”        He knew Y/N was right, as always. Well, except that one time they’d run off to the beach, and she’d been so confident she could surf but then on the first try had plopped into the water as if she was a baby deer just learning how to walk.        “You know how he gets under my skin,” Billy let out a shaky sigh, gripping on Y/N’s hips a bit tighter to ground himself. “I hate the person I become when he’s around.”        “Not gonna lie, I don’t like that Billy either,” she mumbled in his shoulder. “But that’s why I’m gonna be there every step of the way, and I won’t let him hurt you.”        Billy let out a sad snort. “I should be the one saying that to you.”        “Yes, well, I kinda get pissed off when someone I love is either upset or being hurt. Demogorgon, shit friends, a shittier father… things don’t end well for them.”        “I love you, you know that right?” he muttered pulling back and looking into Y/N’s eyes. Clara’s eyes.        “Yeah, I do, you absolute softie,” her lips were like clouds, gentle and fluttery as they skimmed over his. “I love you too.”        “Do you think we could get Jess to watch Clara on such short notice?” Billy referred to the high schooler they always hired if they wanted to have a date night or had a company thing.        “I’m sure she won’t mind.”        “Fuck,” Billy groaned letting his forehead rest against Y/N’s. “And here I thought I could leave Hawkins behind.”       He felt her shoulders lift as she shrugged. “It has a disgusting way of pulling people back. But I think that one time it did, somehow things turned out better in the end. Maybe it won't be bad this time around either.” Her smile was faint, but it was there as she remembered meeting the boy who’d become her life.       “Can’t deny that.”        But as Billy connected his lips to Y/N’s his hands hoisting her legs around his hips and carried them to their bedroom, something in Hawkins was stirring awake. Something evil and craving to destroy.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan

A/N: My first Billy fic :) I just wanted to write this cause I think there was so much they could do with that character and to be quite honest I’m a bit upset about him being axed off :D But I do gotta say - Stranger Things has more balls than Game of Throne. don’t come for me please :D

This might be a 2 parter 3 parter or even a mini-series, but we’ll see how things go. If you wanna be tagged, drop a message :)

Also, I wanna say sorry to those who saw spoilers on my blog. It was not my intention, and I completely forgot to tag the reblogs that contained them. Again, didn’t want to ruin that for you, but it was an honest mistake done at 3am. 

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. if you wanna be added to the taglist or removed, please drop a message :)

[eternalgoldfish]

Two weeks into the summer, Steve’s mom walks out to the patio for her evening smoke with a glass of chardonnay held between soft pink nails, to find a dead cat at the bottom of her crystalline pool. She grimaces, rubs her brow, tries not to cry when she tells her husband they need to get the pool drained and cleaned. She’s never been good with death. Steve’s never been allowed a dog because she’s too worried it would break their hearts, and Steve wishes she wasn’t right.

That’s how he ends up at the community pool the next day the sun swelters and he’s not trapped in the over-cool air conditioning at work. The kids want to swim and for once Steve isn’t their free hook-up. He packs half the kids into his car and the other half into Jonathan’s and tries not to think about the way Nancy is only going to sit on a lawn chair in her swim suit, because pools have been ruined for her after Barb, were for him for a long time as well.

Which is how he ends up standing in front of Billy Hargrove in nothing but swim trunks, arms crossed and brows knit. “You’re fucking kidding. They actually trust you not to drown people?”

“Yeah, Pretty Boy,” Billy smiles easy, licks his chin. “You see, I’m responsible, and bitches love a tan. You’d be amazed at how easy it is to get laid when you’re not wearing a sailor hat and clothes made for a toddler.”

“Bitches happen to love the shorts.” It’s the way his dick sways in them, he’s pretty sure. Always catches them staring, like maybe dress up is their kink. He’s a good boy, hasn’t tried, but thinks it would be real easy to slide down the waist band and bend one of them over the side of his bed. Not that he would ever do it like that. He’s a fucking gentleman.

Billy laughs, mean, and rolls his eyes. “This town is fucking messed up, man. Girls have nothing else to do.”

And it’s mean, probably not polite to women, but Steve says, “Guess that’s why they all fall for you.”

The pool apparently can’t be fixed for weeks, which is how Steve ends up at the community pool again, and again, even on days when the sky is overcast and threatens rain in a way that traps all the humidity under the clouds. The ninth, tenth time Steve ends up at the community pool, the air licks his skin like soupy bathtub water, makes him wish he could take off a few layers of his skin.

Aside from Billy walking the edge of the pool, there’s almost no one there, just Jonathan swimming laps while Will dips his feet in the water. Nancy is sleeping on her deck chair. The other life guard, Heather, steps on to the deck around the time Steve realizes his palms are shriveled and he needs to piss. 

His sopping shorts cling to his legs as he walks into the change room, which is blessedly air conditioned. He’s washing his hands when he hears the washroom door open and shut, glances up to see Billy peeling off his swim shorts over at the lockers, ass firm as he bends to step out of them in a way that makes Steve flush. He trades those shorts for a pair of black ones and chucks his whistle into his gym bag.

“You staring?” Billy calls, without looking over his shoulder.

Steve freezes. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“I don’t know, Pretty Boy. Thought you were getting lots of bitches.”

Steve takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes, turns back to the mirror to rinse his face in the sink. Maybe the chlorine is starting to get into his brain. He kind of wants to die.

Then there’s hand on his hips, making him start, a mouth at his ear as he keeps his eyes shut. “It’s so gross out today,” Billy says, hot against his skin, hardly a whisper.

“Yeah, keeps raining, it’s a shitty summer. There a reason you suddenly can’t keep your hands to yourself, buddy?” But Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t know why he can’t.

Billy slides his hands around Steve’s waist to place his warm palms flat against Steve’s stomach. “Told you, it’s easy to get laid here.”

“What, you queer now?”

“Not hardly.”

Steve scoffs but finds himself leaning back, nerves taut and shaking like telephone wires in wind, pulsing with electricity and missed calls. The water from his trunks must be making Billy’s wet. Billy doesn’t seem to mind.

“The weather’s been real weird.”

“Yeah.”

“Even in summer this place is shit.”

“You’re telling me?” Steve turns in Billy’s arms to meet his eyes, his own arms crossed over his chest and his lower back pressed into the sink. Billy’s eyes are so clear, so damp.

“Yeah, nothing like California heat, and Hawkins girls are messy.”

“I thought you’d like that.”

Billy scrunches his nose. “Not in this weather.”

Steve doesn’t know why he says it, it just lurches from his mouth the second rain starts to spatter against the small windows above the mirrors. “I don’t like thunderstorms. Hate being alone in them.”

“Shit, I was going to swim.”

“Maybe it’ll pass?”

“Maybe.”

But Billy’s not pulling away, makes Steve’s chest tight the way the air outside does, the way the dark clouds have his skin crackling. He hasn’t liked loud noises since the first time Nancy shot a gun by his ear, the first time his bat cracked against the Demogorgon’s flank. He can’t sleep with thunder rolling in the sky.

“Shouldn’t Heather be closing the pool?”

“Yeah, I gotta go make sure she does.” Billy doesn’t move, not until he’s bit Steve’s bottom lip. “I love a good storm.”

From the look in Billy’s eyes, the new danger, Steve knows he does. “You’re fucked up.”

“And you want me out of these shorts.”

Steve groans, thinks about a plate being broken over his head as thunder cracks, and realizes all this means he does.

[crewhonk]

divebar (smut)

In which reader discovers maybe change isn’t necessary for good things to happen. 

AN: reader and billy were in an unofficial relationship which started the summer before he left.

Words: 3,810

Warnings: Smut, Swearing

It was just another Tuesday, in sunny California when you found yourself in some dingy bar with decor that showed the building's age. The wallpaper was old and dirty and you’re pretty sure it was peeling in one of the far corners but they made their drinks strong and cheap and that's all you were here for. It had been a disastrous day at the magazine office which you worked at, and if another one of your articles were rejected you were pretty sure you were actually going to lose your fucking mind. The bartender, who had become a familiar face in your life simply slid a large shot glass towards you and dropped his eye into a wink. You smiled politely back and raised your glass to him before drinking the entire thing without so much as a wince. You thought that once adult life would be exciting and full of sun and waves but you were sorely disappointed when you were only greeted with monotonous routine and grey pencil skirts that cost too much money. 

You didn’t even notice when the bell above the door rang— it couldn’t be anyone interesting because it was five on a Tuesday and you knew whoever had just walked in was probably in a rut similar to your own. You asked the bartender for some cheap beer and the cold glass found its place in your palm— the condensation making it wet and cold. You were staring at the many bottles on the shelf behind the bar when the bartender placed a shot of whiskey in front of you and you looked up at him with an eyebrow tiredly raised. 

“I didn’t ask for this.” You murmured. Your words were slightly muffled by the palm pressed against your cheek. He smiled warmly back at you and pointed a meaty thumb towards the end of the bar. 

“Didn’t need to, Darlin’.” You looked over at the person who had ordered this and you swore your eyebrows shot off your forehead. 

Jesus Christ, it was Billy Hargrove. 

“Billy Hargrove, holy shit!” You smiled and motioned for him to join you. Your feet were too sore and you had too many things to carry over, but he seemed more than happy to shuffle over to you. 

“You lost the mullet?!” You gasped, reaching your hand up to mess with the front of his hair. It was long at the top but shaved down on the sides. It was sharp, and the smile your touch brought from him made your heart stutter. Yeah, good to know you still felt the same way you did in high school, and by the way he was blushing, he did too. 

“Yeah, figured since I’m almost twenty it was about time.” He smiled down at you and you could have kicked your feet in girly giddiness. You tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned your hand against your fist. 

“What brings Billy Hargrove back to the land of the living, huh?” 

He scoffed and took the shot he had ordered for you, slamming it back down on the counter. You flinched at the hostility of his actions— this Billy was angrier than the one that left two years ago, and the way his tongue slid across his white teeth made a shiver roll up your spine. You were still trying to figure out if the shiver was welcomed or not when he started to speak. 

“Hawkins was a fuckin’ wasteland, Babe.” He seemed to snarl the words and the way he said ‘Hawkins’ made you believe it could have been a swear.

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad?” You scooted closer to him so you could rest a hand on his knee. He intertwined your fingers together and his grip on your hand was almost suffocating. 

“It was full of monsters, Y/N. You don’t even know.” He mumbled and you had to lean closer to hear him. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, and you squeezed his hand once so he would look up at you. 

“Well, you’re back home now.” You smiled and he looked down at your lips quickly before looking up at you and giving you a small nod. 

“I guess I am, huh?”

You had spent the rest of the evening in that shitty dive-in bar, and Billy had told you so much about the past two years that made you want to cry and scream and kick Neil and this stupid Harrington kid to the curb. He felt the same way about your life situation— the stagnancy, the blandness of it all, and the more drinks you had, the louder you talked. 

“And he had this stupid fucking hair, Babe. Like I swear, it was taller than his dick was long. There is no way that he wasn’t compensating for somethin’.” He drank another shot and leaned into you. You had since moved from the bar stools to a booth in the far corner near the peeling wallpaper and were now curled into his side. “Like he musta’ spent an hour every day on it.” You howled with laughter and threw your head back onto his shoulder. God, you missed him. You missed the way he smiled down at you and you missed the way he smelled (cigarettes and bubblegum), and you missed the weight of his arm around your shoulders. 

“God, this kid sounds like a fuckin’ hazard, Bill.” You laughed and turned the large pitcher of beer in front of you so it was easier to pick up and pour. 

“You shoulda seen the kid he was babysitting though. Beautiful thick curls and one of the goofiest little smiles you could imagine. Corrupted the shit outta him. There was a stupid dance they had just after Max joined their Party and he showed up with this hair that looked like it was done the night before. Poor kid. He was my favorite outta all of ‘em.”

“Him and that Jane kid are my favorites I think.” He snorted at your comment. 

“Yeah, she seemed to really like to stick it to me and her dad.”

“Her dad was the sheriff, right?” You asked, letting your hand drift up to his chest to play with his Virgin Mary pendant his mother had given him in the fifth grade. You were the only person who he allowed to touch it and you hoped it had stayed that way while he lived in Hawkins and got frisky with other girls (“cows, all of em.” “hey, that’s not nice.” “its true though”). He sighed pleasantly at your touch and pulled you closer to him to plant a kiss tot he top of your head. 

“I missed you, my love.” He mumbled into your scalp and you simply hummed in response. Your glazed eyes drifted over the bar (it looked far less dingier with Billy surrounding you and a few good drinks in your system), and you smiled when it settled on the old pool table just off the side of the dance floor. It was empty— it rarely was— so without announcing what you were doing, you pulled Billy out of your quiet corner towards the table. 

“What d’you think you’re doing, Princess?” He laughed when he saw the direction you were pulling him in. You didn’t respond but instead pulled him hard enough to where he was pressing you against the pool table. His hands came to rest on your hips, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him just close enough to where your lips almost brushed his. 

“I seem to have forgotten how to play. Can you teach me?” You tilted your head when you said this and looked at him through your lashes. You knew he truly hadn’t changed all that much when you heard him growl lowly under his breath at your actions and when you felt him press his hips harder into your own. 

“I’ll teach you.” He mumbled, his eyes now a few shades darker. There was a rougher side to him now, though. It was a darker side that he had brought home with him, and a thrill breath filled your body when he turned away to get the cue sticks. You watched him form the balls into the mold, and after everything was set up the way he liked, he walked over to you. He handed you the stick and you waited for him to walk around you. 

He pushed your lower back, making you bend over. “You gotta get the right angle when you’re playing.” He said, and you could literally hear his smirk in his voice. He pushed you further and positioned himself so he could position your hands properly on the stick. You made sure to move your hands slowly though, and the way you wrapped your hand around the thicker end of the cue got the message across. You knew this because he pressed his hips harder into your bottom and you gasped at the pressure you felt. God, he was bigger than you remembered. You pressed yourself into him, and he simply let out a shuddering breath against the back of your neck in response. 

Knowing exactly what you were doing (not just with but also with the game), you hit the balls almost perfectly, only three or four balls not finding their homes in the pockets littered around the edges of the table. You straightened up against him and turned around, smiling when you saw his lust blown pupils and almost frazzled blonde hair. 

“I still got it, I guess.” You swayed in your spot with your hands behind your back. His eyes flickered quickly from your breasts (which were now on display— you had unbuttoned the top three over the duration of the night) to your lips to your eyes and back down to your lips. His hesitation in him deciding whether or not to kiss you was starting to get on your nerves and you rolled your eyes. 

“Jesus, Billy. Just kiss me already, yeah?” You frowned. After your request (demand) he shot forward and held your cheeks in his hands before slamming his lips onto your own. He was just as warm as you remembered, but he now tasted more like cigarettes than he did candy and that thought troubled you only slightly. You gripped the collar of his denim jacket and pulled him closer to you, gasping when you felt the cold of his necklace brush against you flushed skin. His tongue darted out quickly, taking quick tastes of your lips before you taught it between your teeth and making him gasp in response. The quick pain from your teeth was soothed by the softness of your tongue soon after and he moaned at the warmth of your taste. 

You pulled away from him breathlessly and looked up at him. You laughed out loud when you saw your lipstick smudged around his mouth and you fisted the pink sleeve of your shirt in your hand to try to wipe some of it off. 

“You’re covered.” You snorted and you only seemed to smear the lipstick further. “Oh shit.” You laughed. The smile he gave you would have to take your breath away if it wasn’t for your intoxication. You tucked your head into his denim collar and took a deep breath of cigarettes and cheap cologne. 

“Take me home, Billy.” You mumbled into his neck and there was a low purr in response to your words. He wasted no time in grabbing your hand and running the best he could down the street. You threw your head back and laughed, your feet scuffing and the chill of the summer night making goosebumps appear over your arms. Billy had turned a corner, and only stopped when you squeezed his hand enough for him to feel. He turned back to you and grunted in surprise when you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him hard on the mouth. He wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth and battling your own in some slippery and beautiful dance. Your hands moved to cup the sides of his neck and you could feel his own pulse hammering under your touch. 

“Princess, I thought you wanted to go home?” He mumbled against your lips and you moaned quietly when you felt him smirk against your mouth. His grip was tight on your waist and his pelvis was pushed against yours, giving you a taste of the friction he was capable of. He pushed himself off the wall and turned you so your own back was pressed against it. He grabbed your wrists and lifted them above your head, effectively pinning you in one position. He pulled away and clicked his tongue when your lips chased his own. 

“You want me to fuck you right here, huh?” He mumbled low and pressed himself against you once more. You moaned softly as to not gather any unwanted attention, but hitched your leg around his own. “You’d like that wouldn’t you.” You only moaned in response. 

He pulled away from you once more and it was only a few more blocks until he pulled you into some ratty apartment building and up two flights of stairs. You snorted when he turned back and told you to be quiet after he had tripped over one of the musty rugs lining the hallway. It hadn’t been soon enough when he found his door and patted his jacket in an attempt to find his keys. Fueling his desire and pushing him closer to the edge, your hand drifted over the front of his torso and into the front pocket of his tight jeans where you found them. He gasped at the feeling of you so close to him and he seemed frozen when you dangled them in front of his face. You kissed his denim-clad shoulder and hummed smugly against it. 

“Not the only thing I felt down there, though.” With that, he grabbed the keys from your grasp and shoved them into the doorknob. You both fell into the foyer and he slammed you hard against the inside of the door, shucking both of your jackets roughly and nipping his way from your lips, over your cheek, and down your neck. 

“Billy, please.” You breathed, and he kissed your pulse lightly. You barely had time to think about looking around his living space before he led you down one of the hallways and pressed you tenderly against the walls, kissing and nipping his way across your skin and making your breath hitch in your throat. 

Eventually, you had made it to his room, and it was only a matter of time before your fingers found the buttons on his shirt and began revealing more skin for your lips to trace. You kissed his collar bones and his throat softly and smiled against his tan skin when you heard him whimper quietly. His hands came up to intertwine themselves in your hair and you were surprised that his roughness from the street and from the hallway didn’t find a place here. Instead, he simply held you by your hair as you kissed your way down his torso, making his skin blush prettily under your touch. You found your place at your knees, and let your nose brush softly against the line of his low riding jeans, kissing his navel before undoing his belt and pulling all of his clothes off in one motion. 

You kissed the tip of him and were encouraged in your motions by the tightening grip of your hair. You kissed him again before taking the tip in your mouth and swirling your tongue gently around it, tasting him in your mouth, the weight of him making you hum. Your pleasant hum traveled up from Billy’s cock to his navel and settled in his stomach where it continued to flutter and fill him with warmth. You licked the bottom of his dick, tracing the lines and ridges and veins a few times before taking all you could in your mouth and pumping what you couldn’t. You felt the soft skin of his balls and rolled them expertly in your hand, making him keen with pleasure, and making him thrust into your face unintentionally. 

“Fuck, sorry Princess.” He grunted and brushed your hair from your face. You ushered a quick ‘it’s okay’ before taking him in your mouth once again and looking at him through your lashes. The view of him disappearing into your perfect lips had a coil tightening in his belly, and before he could cum he pulled you up to kiss you hard. The taste of him in your mouth made him moan, and the rumble of it make your squeak happily. 

He shucked your shirt over your head soon enough and with it your skirt, leaving you standing in front of him in your mismatched bra and panties. You tried to cover yourself with his burning gaze, but before you could, he grabbed your hands and kissed your wrists. 

“Don’t,” he whispered. His voice, though quiet seemed to echo around the room. “You’re gorgeous, Princess.” He reaffirmed his point by pushing you back onto his unmade bed and kissing your belly and ribs. Your hands mimicked his own a mere minute ago and tangled themselves in his hair, pulling him up to kiss you. Your lips touched briefly before he found himself unhooking your bra straps and pushing the garment around your waist. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and the warmth of him made you sigh. He nipped you a few times, making you jump before his fingers found your core and began rubbing you over your cotton underwear. 

“Oh, Bill.” You moaned and felt your hips begin to rock against his hand. Taking the hint and not wanting to deny either of you the pleasure you wanted he shoved your panties to the side and plunge two fingers into you while stimulating your clit with the rough palm of his hand. 

“Who made you so fuckin’ wet, huh?” He growled against your lips, and when you only responded with a quiet moan, he pulled his fingers out and spanked your pussy roughly, making your jolt and groan with pleasure. 

“Answer me, Princess.” He said, looking down at you. You were pressed into his thin pillows and your hair was spread out prettily across them, and the blissed-out expression on your face had him on the edge once more. He hit you again and your eyes flashed open to meet his burning ones. The blue that you had found so gorgeous was nearly swallowed completely by black and you pulled him down to smash your lips to his own. 

“You made me so fuckin’ wet, Billy. You didn’t even need to get me naked to do it either. I wanted to ride you so hard on top of that damn pool table where everyone could see.” You rutted yourself onto his fingers, and you swallowed his moan of surprise with satisfaction. His fingers were thick inside of you, and the cold metal of his many rings provided feelings of stimulation on stimulation— you thought you were going to explode at this point. 

“Please, Billy.” You moaned as his fingers curled in you, hitting the spot that made you see stars. Needing no more invitation, he tore a hole down the center of your panties and lined himself up at your entrance after rolling a condom quickly onto his cock. 

“You sure you want this, Y/N?” His voice sounded almost choked and you thrust your hips up to his, feeling the tip of his dick enter you, but he pulled back before you could do anything more. 

“I need words, Angel.” He whispered against the crook of your neck. 

“Please, I want you.” You tugged at his hair, and you gasped when your affirmation made him hook both of your legs around his shoulders. 

“Good girl.” He grunted and pushed himself into you slowly until he bottomed out inside of you, making your both coil around each other and moan at how simply full you both felt. The ridges pressed against him in the best way, and you fluttered around him, making him moan against you as he began thrusting. It was slow at first, but when he re-adjusted you so you had a pillow under your bum and were nearly folded in half, he quickened his pace until it was almost brutal in nature. The sound of his thick thighs slapping against yours, and the crude sounds of his sliding in and out of you added to the feeling of him hitting your g-spot almost perfectly every thrust. 

“Fuck, Billy. ‘M not gonna last long.” You were surprised at the rushing feeling of your orgasm fast approaching, but the stimulation you received before this and the pent-up tension from your work day and the bar explained so much. He began to fuck into you then, rutting so hard against you that the sounds you were making didn’t sound like a noise you would make. Your entire body jolted when he began to rub your clit relentlessly and within thirty seconds, your toes were in the hair curling, and your back was arched into him. Once he had fucked you through your high, and once he was sure you were fully satiated, he pulled out of you and ripped off the condom and crawled up so he was straddling your waist. 

He pulled at himself, and you scraped your nails over his thighs in pure anticipation of him marking you. His heavy breaths soon became moans which turned to grunts when thick ropes of cum found its place on your chest and neck. He pumped himself only a few times more to really milk himself, and when he looked down at you, you smiled and giggled softly at the mess he had made. Without even thinking, he crawled off of you and began walking out into the hall towards what you assumed would be the bathroom. You propped yourself on your elbows and looked around the room trying to find your clothes and purse so you could get out from the warm bed and make your great escape. 

You were broken from your surveying when Billy’s head popped back into the room. He had a genuine grin on his face that sent shivers down your spine in the best way, and his voice was raspy when he spoke. 

“You gonna join me or what, Sugar?”

[nailriddenbat]

Mayfield | Series - Pt. VI

Summary: Max Mayfield and Billy Hargrove aren’t the only new kids to step foot into Hawkins. Meet Y/N Mayfield, Max’s big sister, who’s here to make sure no one messes with her sister.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Mayfield!Reader (SLOW BURN)

Characters: Y/N Mayfield, Max Mayfield, Billy Hargrove, Rebecca Montgomery (OC)

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags: TAGS HAVE BEEN MOVED TO THE END OF THE POST!

A/N: So Y/N gets some much needed comfort in this chapter. Everyone needs a friend to help them get through the tough stuff and Y/N is no different. I’m also super excited because there is some development and everything is going to go to shit right after this. sorry not sorry. ENJOY MY LOVES.

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X (FINALE) 

You laid out on your bed as you stared up at the ceiling. You had barely spoken since the previous day, when you had stupidly decided to tell your life story to Steve Harrington. You cried an obscene amount and Steve just stood with you until you pulled yourself away. He tried to get you to talk but you had urged him to leave and go make up with Nancy, and then you had run off and locked yourself in your room.

They say that talking about any life changing experience was supposed to help you heal, but what they don’t say is that sometimes reopening that wound hurts more than when you first got it.

Outside of your room you could hear music playing obnoxiously loud. Billy was home for the day working out while you and Max stayed in your respective rooms.

You heard a light knock on the door and turned your head, but you didn’t move from the bed. A few seconds later the door opened slowly and Max poked her head in. “You cool if I come in?”

You nodded your head and she stepped in, closing the door behind her. You turned your head around and looked back up at the ceiling and soon she joined you. You watched as she dropped the skateboard to your bed and you sat up quickly, “Jesus, kid. What’s with the duct tape?”

“You like it?” she grinned a little.

“Let me buy you a new one. Early Christmas gift and whatnot,” you sighed as you looked over at her.

“No, no,” she said. “I think it adds character to it.”

You laughed a little and dropped back down to your bed as she laid next to you.

“So are you going to tell me why you locked yourself up in your bedroom all night and day?” Max wasted no time in addressing your issue.

“Max, I hate unloading my shit onto you. You’re too young for my drama,” you turned your head to look at her.

“And you’re not old enough to be treating me like I’m some baby. I understand a lot more than anyone thinks I do,” Max went back at you.

“I hate that you’re so smart,” you groaned loudly and covered your face. “I told Steve about George.”

“What?” Max sat up straight in the bed and looked down at you with wide eyes. “Steve? Steve with the hair?”

“Yeah Steve with the hair,” you said yes and dropped your hands, not even noticing the small smile that had crossed your face for a brief second as you said his name.

“How’d it go?” Max asked you.

You shrugged, “Just peachy. I feel like an idiot for unloading that entire thing on him. I barely know who he is and I just... told him everything.”

“Well did he say anything to you?”

“Of course not, Max,” you snorted. “What the hell could anyone say to a story like that? He hugged me, said it wasn’t my fault, all that sentimental shit.”

“He’s right, Y/N. It’s not your fault,” Max agreed with Steve completely. 

“It’s not that simple,” you shook your head slowly.

You both turned your heads to the door when you heard the doorbell ring, but you both ignored it.

“How is it not that simple?” Max asked you.

You went to answer her question but the doorbell rang again. 

“Let me guess, I wouldn’t understand,” Max stood up from the bed and narrowed her eyes at you.

“Max I was not going to say that,” you sighed as you pushed yourself up from the bed. “Look...”

The doorbell continued to ring and soon you both could hear Billy scream, “Max are you getting that or what?”

“Okay!” Max screamed back at him.

The doorbell rang again and the two of you moved towards the door as Billy continued to scream, “Swear to God, Max!”

Max stomped forward at a faster pace than you and you dragged your feet. You leaned against the frame of the archway and looked over at Billy with a bored expression as he continued to do his reps. 

“Macho, macho man,” you sang under your breath, but it was loud enough for him to hear it. Your eyes darted up when you saw the front door close quickly. 

He glared over at you as he left his cigarette hanging from his lips.

“I’m pretty sure smoking while working out is not recommended,” you said to him.

“Do I look like I give a shit?”

“Clearly not,” you snorted. 

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch me the entire time?” Billy asked you as he leaned back.

“I’m actually hoping your hands slip and you drop the weight on your chest, that’s not something I’d want to miss,” you continued to taunt him. 

“Aw,” Billy smirked. “Are you saying you have a crush on me? That’s cute.  Too bad you’re a dead weight on this family, Mayfield. Oh wait... that’s Georgie.”

Your face twisted into the glare that was reserved just for him. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

He ignored you as he set the weights down and then he stood up slowly, looking over at the door. You stood up straight and you felt your body grow tense. “Don’t you have more reps to do, Hargrove?”

He continued to ignore you and walked forward, popping up a beer can as he did.

You stepped forward quickly, ready to jump in front of him if he were to reach out for the door. Luckily you didn’t have to, as Max ran right back in just in time. She went to walk past him but he shot his arm up, blocking her path. “Who the hell were you talking to?” he asked in a low voice.

“It’s none of your business,” you tried to interject.

Max looked up at him for a few seconds before speaking calmly, “Mormons.”

You watched as he blew smoke in her face. “Mormons?”

She nodded her head and said, “Talkative ones.” After that she pushed past his arm and he looked after her before walking over to the front door, yanking it open.

“What are you gonna do, Billy? Beat the mormons up?” you rolled your eyes at him and went to go check on Max, ignoring the phone that was now ringing.

Billy grew agitated at the constant distractions and yanked the phone from the wall, shouting into it, “What do you want?”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady, Hargrove,” Billy’s head perked up when he heard the familiar voice that he hadn’t heard since he left California.

He grinned slowly and leaned against the wall, “Is this Rebecca Montgomery?”

You spun around quickly when you heard the name of your friend and rushed back down the hall.

“Is this my favorite chain-smoking asshole?” Rebecca grinned into the phone.

“It is,” his eyes moved up when he saw you turn the corner and he winked over at you. “Does someone miss me?”

“Only every night, one hand on a romance novel and the other-”

Billy couldn’t hear what Rebecca said next as you jumped forward and tried knocking the phone out of his hand. He held it up over your head before stepping back and speaking into the phone, “What took you so damn long to call then? Don’t tell me you replaced me already, babe.”

“Give me the damn phone, Hargrove!” you started to yell.

“Babe?” Rebecca snorted. “Jesus, last time it was princess. Who replaced me in that hick town?”

“Oh trust me,” he hummed into the phone. “You are irreplaceable.”

“Give me the fucking phone!” you tried to grab the phone again and you punched his arm, which earned you a glare.

“Fuck off, Mayfield,” he practically growled at you.

You flipped him off and Billy turned back to the phone, listening as Rebecca clicked her tongue at him. She said, “Down boy. I called for Y/N, not you.”

His face fell and he turned to you suddenly, shoving the phone into your chest roughly. “It’s for you,” he muttered before storming off to his bedroom and you listened as the door slammed shut.

“You sure pissed him off,” you said into the phone.

“He’ll get over it. I’ll call back later to piss off Neil and give Billy a reason to turn that frown upside down.”

You leaned back against the wall and covered your face, feeling your eyes water as you heard your best friend’s voice. “Oh it is so good to hear your voice right now,” you sighed. “I feel like I’m going insane over here.”

“What’s up, buttercup? Hawkins got you down? I’m just two planes a shitty bus ride away,” she tried laughing lightly to cheer you up.

You snorted a little, “You’d lose it within five seconds of being here. Stay there in sunny California.”

“Come home to me then,” Rebecca shouted into the phone. “Unless something is keeping you there? Hell, bring Max back too.”

“If only it were that simple,” you sighed loudly and dropped to sit on the floor, the cord of the phone stretching. “I think Max is starting to make friends so I’ll leave her be. One of us had to make the best of this, so I’m glad it’s her.”

“What’s going on? Is Neil worse than he was? Is he making Billy worse?” Rebecca asked. 

She would always get nervous and worried over Billy. You couldn’t understand it but you didn’t question it. 

“Neil is just a dick. Always has been, always will be. And as for Hargrove, well, let’s just say that since I’ve come back I’ve slapped him, burnt him with a cigarette, and threatened his life on a daily basis. Sorry.”

You listened as your friend sighed into the phone and whispered, “Christ.” It went quiet for a minute before she spoke up again, “Did something happen to you? I thought I’d get a call a week ago.”

You found yourself focusing on a piece of lint stuck to your ripped jeans. You took a deep breath before exhaling, “I spoke about George yesterday and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

Again, silence.

“What prompted that?” Rebecca asked slowly.

“Steve Harrington, the guy with the good hair,” you sighed into the phone and leaned your head back against the wall. “He’s this stupid, blazer wearing guy in my class and he pops up occasionally to check in on me because I drove him home after he drank too much at a party.”

“And what did Blazer Boy have to say?”

You clenched your jaw as you could feel your eyes start to burn. You held the phone away from your ear so she couldn’t hear you breathe in sharply. “He uh,” you cleared your throat as you held the phone back to your ear. “He said it wasn’t my fault. What happened to George wasn’t my fault. Then he hugged me and stuff and I just walked away after a while. No big deal.”

“Oh wow, you should marry him,” Rebecca said. You could see her face in your mind and you knew she was grinning. “When should I buy my maid of honor dress?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “He’s trying to make up with his girlfriend, so that is not happening. Like ever. Not that I want it to or anything.”

“You should at least talk to him, Y/N,” Rebecca sighed into the phone. “Don’t ice the guy out, he sounds like the only one in Hawkins who isn’t a total dick, your step brother included in that. As much as it pains me to say, you know my sordid past with William Hargrove.”

You snorted at that comment and bit your tongue. She was the only one who dared to call him William.

She ignored your snort and continued on, “But seriously, don’t avoid this Steve guy. Good scenario, you have a friend who is just as amazing as me in Indiana. Even better scenario... well let’s say the girlfriend becomes an ex.”

You shook your head, disagreeing with everything, “Nah. I’m just a girl who has panic attacks and who constantly cries now. There’s nothing appealing about that. I’m sure once he brought flowers to her yesterday, their fight was totally forgotten about. And I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that to George.” That was another problem you were having. Your boyfriend was laying six feet under the ground and you were thinking about the boy who looked insanely good in black ray bans. It was insulting and you didn’t feel right.

“George is dead,” she was blunt and you pressed your palm against your eyes. “And I pray to God he won’t be undead any time soon. I know you don’t want to hear it, but healing is going to take moving past him. He’ll always have a place in your heart, but I know how big it is. There’s room for someone else.

“Yeah, maybe...” you whispered slowly. “You doing okay in California?” It was a cheap shot at changing the subject but you gave it a shot as you pushed yourself off the ground.

“Clearly not. I miss my best friend and I want to help her. Please do something for yourself and take a damn chance for once,” she continued to press the subject.

“I’ll see, Rebecca,” you nodded your head as you spoke with a weak voice. 

“Perfect! Then I take the cue and change the subject to this bitch Miranda that you left me with,” Rebecca started to shout into the phone.

You started to laugh in the phone and for the next hour, you and Rebecca stood on the phone catching up. You felt better than you had all day and you could feel your body growing lighter. It was just what you needed and you continued to smile, blissfully ignorant of the trouble brewing in Hawkins.

Tags (PLEASE message me if you want to be added to the permanent tag list for any fic/tag list for this particular series, especially if you already asked and I forgot!): @thegirlwhoisintoomanyfandoms @la-fille-en-aiguilles @jj-writes-shit @thebitterbookeater @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @richletozler  @royalwolfhard @just-smile-darling @w-ingardiumleviosa @buckysmaingirl @magic-and-timetravel  @jupiter-leo @ttrraasshh @somekryptonitewriting @dudee-what  @tmalchow @hedabucky @wallacetdog @harringtonhuddle @sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack @kingkenzieo @twelvedacrewoods @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @stevieboyharrington @madhatterweasley @captainelsaeverdeen @cupcaitlyn96 @anton-shudders @trashyemonerd @netflix-and-cuddles @earthvsjai @goimaginethiss @inhumanz @athenalesage @pan-space-cowboy @caitsymichelle13 @juliroseennis @stressedoutkylo @slythxr @way-obsessed5 @gingerfangirlthefeels @marslovesme @sweetheartmendes @spacecowgrrrl @letstacoaboutnutellaa @doomed-vodka @negroneon @lola-winston-harrington @annasbulletjournal @idk-5sos-bye @me-a-hopeless-romantic @sofver@altreble @brightestgrangers @pity-mee @xbrandix17 @marvelgirl2118 @everything-intertwined @mychemicaltessa @bitchin-momjeans @sparkles-of-youthfulness @artisticlales @runningwitches @andyhurleyquinn @kenzie-is-still-here @xguardiangel @bloggerwithaheadache @pugsandkisses14 @rowenonhome1 @andyhurleyquinn @bitchinmouthbreather @spacemarkimoo @nikkie-cherish @daniimiss @flopmalum @lexannani @girlofmanyfandoms15 @mischievousweasleys @notalxx @runningwitches @thephantomofthe-internet @thatonenerdybandkid @solaestheti-c @fl0werb0nes18 

[yikesharringrove]

Toy Box

Part 14

Read on ao3

-

Billy woke up when Steve’s elbow dug deeply into his side.

It knocked all the wind out of him, and he wheezed.

Steve was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I was trying to climb over you out of bed, and I slipped, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Billy’s voice was still hoarse, Steve was biting his lip. “What you gettin’ outta bed for?”

“Uh, ‘cause it’s your bed?”

“So?”

Steve just stared at him.

“You do realize, if you open the cuddle gate, you’re never getting a break from me, right? I’m clingy.” Steve made his voice go up on the clingy, waving one hand like it illustrated it.

“I’m fine with that.”

Billy was fine with that. He was so fucking fine with that. To the point where it was less fine with that and more actively wanting that.

Steve just watched him, and then crashed down on top of Billy.

Billy was still laying on his side, Steve’s upper body flopped over his torso.

“You’ve resigned yourself to a life of this now,” He said it like it was a warning.

“Yeah, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.” Billy just extracted his arm, rolling onto his back so Steve was laying more comfortably on his chest.

He held him close.

“You’re warm,” he said into Steve’s hair.

“Just a lil furnace for ya.”

“It gets too cold here.” Steve’s head shifted, turning to look at Billy.

“I just realized I don’t know where you’re from. I know shit all about you.”

“You know how big my dick is.” Steve squawked, his cheeks going pink. Billy laughed softly at him. “I’m from California.”

“Makes sense. You look like California.”

“How does someone look like a state?”

Steve huffed.

“i just mean, you got the whole beachy surfer thing. With the hair and the tan and the freckles.”

“I fucking miss surfing.”

“And I called it.”

Billy pinched his side, getting a little yelp from Steve. He hid his face back in Billy’s chest. Billy could feel his breaths puffing out softly against his skin.

“Why’d you come here? California to Indiana is kind of a jump.”

“This school gave me a full ride. And my dad wasn’t gonna help me pay. So, here I am.”

“Good job. A full ride that’s-” Steve’s dad was paying the full brunt of in-state tuition. Because what fucking school would give Steve an academic scholarship?

He still remembers senior year, his final basketball season. Scouts coming to games to watch for players in the stands.

Even Tommy H. had gotten a basketball scholarship.

Granted, it was some Christian school in Texas, but Steve would kill to be any where but Indiana State.

But if he wasn’t here he never would’ve met Billy.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“Down the shitty rabbit hole that is my shitty life.”

“Oh, come on. You’re life’s not shitty. You’ve got like, the best roommate in the world, you’ve got a mildly terrifying collection of anal toys-”

“Is this supposed to be helping me?

“Yes, now hush. As I was saying, you’ve got just the best roommate ever. This guy is cool, he’s hot, he’s caring-”

“He’s humble.”

“Shut up.” But there was a laugh in Billy’s voice. “You never said where you’re from.”

“Fucking here. Well, a few hours north of here.”

“Nice. Close to home.”

Steve groaned.

“Yeah, wanted to be far from home but this is all I could swing. I pretend it’s further, though. That’s why I don’t go home on weekends or anything like Robin does sometimes.”

“I get that.”

“I’ve never even left the state, Dude. My parents used to travel all the time and I’d just be home alone for weeks. Something about not appreciating culture or some shit.”

“That’s kinda fucked.”

“I think it was code for we don’t really like Steve.”

“My parents don’t like me either.”

“It’s a fun vibe.” Billy hummed.

“Makes you feel real unlovable.”

“Ugh, yes. Billifer, you get me.”

Billy barked a laugh, making Steve bounce a little on his chest.

“I just get shitty parents.”

It made sense. Steve’s severe lack of eye contact, the way his brain goes from zero to panic in the blink of an eye.

Robin said he can’t make eye contact with most men and authority figures.

Fuck, Billy gets it.

“I especially get shitty dads.”

“What? Are my daddy issues written across my forehead, or something?”

“Well, you did call me dad-”

“Billy, I swear to God, if you ever bring that up again I’m gonna jump in front of a bus.” Billy laughed again.

“No, I just, game recognizing game, I guess.”

“You really just said game recognizing game for daddy issues. I hate you.”

“If you hated me you wouldn’t be on top of me right now.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Is this a good story? Robin said you used to be a slut.” Steve’s head flew back up to look at Billy.

“When did you talk to Robin about me?” Fuck.

“The day before yesterday. When I, uh, gave you that alone time, she was eating with Heather.”

Steve’s mouth went into a perfect little o. Billy tried not to think about shoving his cock in that little o.

“So, Heather, is Heather Heather. Robin’s totally hot for her.”

“Heather’s pretty non-discriminatory about dating, so I’d say she has a shot.”

“Nice.” And then he reached down to dig through the big pocket on the front of his hoodie, and his hand was moving too much, and he was jostling around, and practically pawing at Billy’s dick through the pocket.

And Billy’s only human.

Steve stopped moving suddenly.

“Uh-”

“Sorry, you were just kinda, touching it and-”

“No, that’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I mean, sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable-”

“No, I’m fine, I’ll just, uh, give you some space, to, uh, deal-”

And then Steve was trying to get out of bed again, and he swung one leg over Billy.

And those boxers were thin, and Steve was, for intents and purposes, straddling Billy.

And he was hard too.

They both went still, staring each other down.

And then Billy slid his hands up Steve’s thighs, pushed them up his sweatshirt to settle on his waist, and Steve’s breath hitched.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 9)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, bit of fluff

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries and death, fighting, swearing, mentions of smut, but not full-on

Word count: 2120 (I’m sorry if there are any mistakes :D )

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

Italics are flashbacks

“Billy, stop!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, throat burning with every uttered syllable, but no sound came out. When Y/N had come to and seen the bruises he’d left around her neck, she had almost passed out again, but had to remind herself – this was not Billy, this wasn’t her caring sometimes hot-headed boyfriend that had wrapped his palms around her neck and tried to squeeze the life out of her. This was a monster using him as a servant to do its bidding. 

           For a second, their eyes met as she stood at the other side of the mall, the Mind Flayer’s attention on El who laid on the ground before it. And there it was – recognition in Billy's eyes. If only for a moment, he remembered who she was, who he was to her.

           As quickly as that had happened, it was gone, and Billy turned around grabbing a screaming El who had woken up and skidded away by her ankle and dragging her towards the monster. No, Y/N thought to herself, that’s not gonna happen, and rushed to the side where a discarded shotgun laid on the ground. She checked its ammo, loaded and aimed. 

***

           “You,” Y/N pointed at Hopper as they jumped out of the van, “stay in the car and stay low. We don’t need someone to see your face and freak and call the cops.”

           “I am the cops,” he grunted but slid lower onto the seat, masking his face with a baseball cap.

           “No,” El butted in, “keyword – were. You’re technically still dead. At least as far as Hawkins is concerned. And the rest of the world.”

           Like a child, Hop grunted our a ‘whatever’ and watched as the group entered the store, the little ‘DING!’ ringing sharply through the air. “Stay low my ass,” he muttered and slid down the chair to vanish from view.

*

           Y/N tapped her foot against the tiled floor, and each little movement of the muscles tightened the feeling in her back where the salve had seeped into her skin and had lost the cooling effect, making her grit her teeth to keep the whimpers of pain at bay.

           Each beep as the items were scanned amped up her anxiety, and she started chewing on the tip on her thumb which Steve promptly slapped away from her mouth.

           “If your boy sees you without a finger, it’ll be my head he’ll come after,” he grumbled and crossed his arms mimicking Y/N’s stance and tapped his foot at the same time.

           “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you two already gone through your dick-measuring phase?”

           “When are boys ever?” Robin snarked from where she stood behind Y/N, and the two fist-bumped at that.

           “Hey, don’t I know you?” the clerk squinted his eyes at Y/N with a pointed finger in her direction. “Aren’t you that chick that ran off with Hargrove?”

           “If by that chick that ran off with Hargrove you mean his girlfriend throughout the senior year and decided to move to California with him then yeah, I guess so.” She was really over all of the judgement from others.

           Her mom hadn’t been too pleased when she’d announced that she’d be going to San Diego with Billy. Especially given how Y/N had planned on returning to New York and going to NYU at the start of the last semester. 

           Sure, it hadn’t been the most pleasant of stays, but the Big Apple had grown on her. She’d found some peace and had been able to collect her mind after everything Hawkins had put her through. That is until the tanned Cali boy slammed his way into her world.

           He completely shook everything up, from what Y/N wanted in life to what she thought she deserved. There’d been a tremendous amount of guilt that plagued her heart since Barb, and once returning to Hawkins it got bad again. 

           She hadn’t been there to help and look for her, she hadn’t stayed and brought justice to one of her best friends, instead, she'd opted to run away. Y/N felt like she’d been selfish and a horrible person. Until Billy helped her understand it wasn’t her fault. And he made sure she knew it.

           “You couldn’t have done anything,” he’d muttered in her hair one night after the boy had climbed through his window seeking solace from his dad, only to find Y/N dry heaving over her toilet seat. “Fuck, sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault, you gotta understand.”

He hadn’t known the real circumstances then, but it didn’t matter 'cause the words hit their mark either way. “That fucking lab and those people were a messed-up bunch, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to take care of yourself.”

           Y/N had shaken her head. “I-I should’ve stayed. I should’ve helped Nance and Steve. I-I sh-should’ve fought for her.”

           A hand wove into her hair and made her rest her cheek against his chest. “How can you fight for someone else when you can’t even fight for yourself?”

           “So, what do you need all this stuff for?” the cashier asked taking Y/N out from her thoughts and making small talk while scanning the copious amounts of rope and batteries. “Infiltrating the CIA?” Oh, if only he knew how close he was.

           “Going on a camping trip,” Y/N gave him a tight-lipped smile. They seriously didn’t have time for this shit.

           He pulled up the two barrels of gasoline and shrugged. “Must be some trip if you need all this stuff.”

           “You never know,” Robin said curtly hoping he’d just hurry up, “maybe a bear blocks our way back to civilization, and we have to fight it off.”

           “With what? Ropes and walkie talkies?”

           “Exactly,” she gave him a sarcastic smile, and he finally rung up the total.

***

           Billy couldn’t breathe. He felt like his lungs had collapsed and a boulder sat on his chest, pressing down on him. His vision swam, bright lights merging in a sickening dance turning his head dizzy.

           Pain. That’s all he felt. But maybe that’s what he deserved. He’d been an asshole, a major one at that. Maybe this was his way of repenting. Spending his last moments alive in unbearable agony for all the hurt he’d caused while he was alive. Especially to those he loved. 

           His eyes dripped close, but then two hands planted themselves on his shoulders.

           “Max,” he gurgled out, pain shooting through his body right down to the very tips of his toes.

           “Hold on,” the redhead sobbed. Fuck, is she crying? Over me? “Don’t you dare die on me, or I swear I’ll dig up your grave, zap you back to life and skin you alive.”

           “ ‘M sorry,” he choked. “ ‘M sorry.”

           And he knew he was gone when an angel came into view. A beautiful gorgeous angel.

           “Billy,” she called his name. “Billy, please.”

           Fuck, she sounded so much like Y/N. His Y/N. A small smile came over his face. Maybe death wasn’t that bad when it took the form of the only person that had every truly, really loved him. Not even his mom had loved him as much as his girl did. 

           Sure, he missed her like crazy every day of his damned life, but she had left him with that bastard that was nothing more than a sperm donor to him. A little kid on his own to live with a monster. Billy wasn’t afraid of the dark or what hid in it. He was afraid of the person in the next room with a beer bottle in his hand.

           But Y/N… he’d been so shitty to her in the beginning, to her friends. But somehow, she saw through it, saw through the tall and dense walls he’d built around himself and had fallen for the man hiding inside the fortress. 

           “Billy, stay with me,” the angled pleaded. Of course, he would. He could never say no to her.

***

           Once they got to Joyce’s, they split up in groups, Billy taking his sister, Mike and Nancy back to their places while Joyce stayed with Will, and Johnathan took Dustin and Lucas back to theirs.

           “Have you talked with Lucas?” Billy looked over to Max and saw her visibly shrink. She folded her arms and slid down the seat a bit more as if trying to minimize her existence, and it worked as even sitting down he towered over her like a tree

           “About what?”

           “You know what,” he gave her pointed look before returning his gaze back to the road.

           For a moment, silence settled between them, but then Max sighed and groaned out “No. In fact, I actually tried to do that before everything with Y/N went down, but he just waved me off. Said it wasn’t a big deal.”

           Max’s ginger eyebrows were pulled together in a frown of hurt and confusion. “And I know I haven’t been the most understanding and was giving him the silent treatment, but I just… I don’t know what to do… I don’t know how to make it better.”

           Billy sighed, looking at how the trees zoomed past them on both sides before carefully replying. “You love him, don’t you?”

           “Yeah,” she said throwing her head back against the seat surprising him with her blatant honesty. “I mean we’ve been together, on and off, since like being thirteen… kinda hard not to.”

           As Neil’s house slowly started to come in view, Max asked him to stop on the curb.

           “Drop me off here. I’ll just sneak around the house and climb in through the window,” she said and turned to look at Billy grimacing. “Neil doesn’t really let me stay over if there are boys around.” She let out a sneer. 

           Her brother just shook his head and smirked ruffling her head. “You’re trouble, you know that, Maxine?”

           A scoff got stuck in her throat. “Me? Have you met yourself? You snuck out so many times during your senior year just to go to Y/N’s, I’m surprised Neil didn’t pick up on your routine and put bars on your windows.”

           Billy sorted. “If he’d even tried, I would’ve found a way to get to her.”

           “Sentimental asshole,” she rolled her eyes, but he could see that there was nothing malicious behind the gesture. “See you in a few hours.”

           “Stay safe,” he said, and Max nodded, quickly leaning over and pulling Billy in a tight hug. “Everything’s gonna work out. With Lucas, this whole shitshow. I promise.”

           “Do you think Y/N's gonna be okay?” Max mumbled in his ear and opened the door, her muddied up sneakers getting even dirtier.

           "She's the strongest person I know. She'll be just fine,” he looked to his lap and his heart clenched. She was, without a question, but that didn’t make him feel any less worried. Rather it terrified him to the core because who knows what situations awaited them. Billy wasn’t ready to let go of his life just yet, and he knew she'd do anything for those she loved. 

           His knuckles tightened around the wheel.

They’d make it out. No matter what. Or he’d burn everything in its wake. 

***

           A miracle the doctors had said. Not only that vital organs hadn’t been punctured, but that the chemicals Billy had downed a week ago hadn’t fully burned his insides apart. When Y/N heard this from the nurse, she had to rush away from her boyfriend’s side by the bed into the attached bathroom and throw up.

           Her throat burned like ten thousand hot pokers were being pushed down it. Her hands shook as she opened up the faucet and splashed ice-cold water against her face. Y/E/C eyes looked up to see the blue-black bruises littering her neck, Billy’s two handprints like tattoos against her skin. 

           No, she shook her head, not his, but that monster’s that used him as a puppet. Her Billy would never hurt her. 

           “Is he gonna recover?” Y/N asked glancing at the nurse when she reentered the room assuming her previous position. He was the same nurse that had looked at her neck and she had blatantly disobeyed his pleas for her to rest. She had to be with Billy.

           “Physically, yes… Psychologically is a different kind of story,” the nurse said. “But the doctor thinks he’s gonna be just fine. He’ll need a lot of help, but we're optimistic."

           Y/N nodded looking away from the nurse and back to her boyfriend. With shaky fingers, she took ahold of his palm and brought his fingers to her lips. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I’ll be here for you… We’re gonna be just fine… we’ll make it…”

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Hawkins’ Charm tag list: 

@genius2050 @aiifandomsunite @ashleymarieriffle @littlefool-smalljester @infinitelycharmed23 @llcalumllhoodll @benevolentgemini @rxmanovbby @euphoniumpets @krazykatykat456 @believerofall @ccidk @babechief @meganmj @blackhood5sos @fml9603 @noodlenerd101 @universefinds @kuroidesuchloe @im-a-stranger-thing @grxxn-gardxns @springholland @beforethebraces @robinisourlesbianmom @queeneliza108 @neenaw-neenaw @lexisntthatweird @choicesismylife @mckenzie2020 @kcd15 @snuggleducky @reckless-sofia @didyouseetheflair @silver-winter-wolf @jay-ta-blog @hopeless-lovex0 @anyasthoughts @robinismyqueen @yeah-butyourenot-dacremontgomery @mcrganstarks @psychoticobsession @cutehipstergirl25 @sbfandom @mickmoon @jackyfrost01 @txhmine @dark-princess99 @morgangrice18 @changingmylifestyle367 @sweetdayme4427 @alowexpectation @sexyvixen7 @golddvstwoman @evelynfreakinaddams @sunfucked @sataninsatin @queenbbarnes @venomavocado @rangotangomango @psychosupernatural @sereiins @frickin-bats @bandsruinedmylife @thee-brunette-princess @queenskyster @aspiring-fangirls-world @gracethegeek9902 @katiexdacre @dreamwavej @escaping-reality21 @void-fire-rose @slvtherinseeker @paranoiadestroyah @arromite @jojo-buttercup @danarysstormborn @graveyard--baby--666 @teller258316 @hello-therree @stqrker @bethanystan @enthusiastoffandoms14 @i-bitch-you-bitch @billysgodcomplex @astil-be @kpopishilarious @bae-bino @billyhargrovescigarette

Billy Hargrove’s tag list: 

@la-reina-tigresa @youcanstandundermyumbrella @ephmrl-love

Forever tags: 

@lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

A/N: soooo.... it’s been a while.... a lot of things have happened and continue happening, but I hope you can forgive me for posting an update so late. Life just gets hectic and I do this for fun, so when pressing matters come up, I have to focus on them :D

I’ve started my last year of uni and I’m shitting bricks, but other than that I’m immensely enjoying everything I'm doing, mum’s visiting me next week, so that’s a plus, but also my first assignment is in less than two weeks, so yay me! :D

P.S. my tags are always open :)