#bully billy hargrove

[runraerun]

**NOW WITH ART! (Everyone go shower @stervrucht with love & reblogs because she is a treasure to this fandom and her generosity knows no bounds🖤thank-you bestie!)

AO3 | WC: 7.8k | Rated: E | CW: Internalized homophobia, references to the death of a parent, lots of swearing and general vulgarity from the both of them. Drug usage. Discussions of trading sex acts for drugs. Billy being an asshole but hey what’s new. | Tags: ADHD Eddie Munson, Semi-closeted Eddie, Fully-closeted Billy, One-Sided Steddie (or is it? We don’t know because of unreliable narrator reasons) Bully Billy Hargrove, Bullied Eddie Munson, Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, Eddie calls Billy ‘m’lord’ in here god help him, Happy Ending, some angst sprinkled throughout, but overall quite fluffy.

(Title is inspired by a song of the same name by Chromeo.)

Summary:

“I’ll cut you a deal, Munson,” Billy says, his icy-pop blue eyes and dark lashes illuminated by the end of his stolen cigarette. “I’ll let you have something. Y’know, as payment.”

But pretty as Billy is, Eddie’s no sucker. “I don’t do trades either.”

“You’re gonna wanna hear this trade.” Billy exhales a cloud of white smoke between them.

Eddie doubts it, but the sooner he hears it the sooner he can shoot it down. “Spit it out then.”

Billy Hargrove stands there, half-smirk on his face, hips tilted forward. Like he’s God’s fucking gift. “I’ll let you suck my dick.”

And that.

Well.

Eddie isn’t exactly sure what he was expecting but it sure as hell isn’t that. 

Or, Billy tries to pay for drugs by offering to let Eddie blow him.

Of all the mugs Eddie expects to see in his neck of the woods, the one attached to Billy Hargrove, resident bad boy slash heartthrob with a notoriously short fuse and a mean right hook, is not one of ‘em.

The fact that he’s alone isn’t much of a comfort, but it’s… well, it’s something. It means if Billy’s planning on jumping him and stealing his stash, then at least Eddie’s got a shot at running and actually getting away with all his teeth intact.

Eddie sucks back on his cigarette, grateful he has something to do with his fidgeting hands as he eyes Hargrove’s approach. Tries his best to keep still—something he’s always been absolute dog shit at. Even as a little kid. They tossed words at him like Attention Deficit Disorder and Hyperactivity ’til the cows came home. Never changed anything, though. Mom always just called it ants in his pants. For Uncle Wayne, it was worms up his butt. All said in love, of course. Eddie was ant and worm-free, far as he knew. Just had a lot of energy is all. And a lot to say too. That isn’t a crime! But right now, under Billy Hargrove’s slow approach, he tries his damndest to get all his ants and his worms to settle down. No sudden moves in front of ticking time bombs.

“You’re Munson, right?” Hargrove asks in a low, slightly nasally voice. He’s stopped a few feet from the picnic table that Eddie’s perched on, his canister of goodies sitting unassumingly beside him.

Eddie fights his nerves—bulldozes over them, more like, and smiles wide, holding out his arms in a display of showmanship. “The one and only.”

Billy scoffs as his eyes travel around the clearing. Doesn’t seem too impressed by the ol’ Munson razzle-dazzle. “You alone out here?” he asks, eyes finally returning to Eddie’s.

Eddie shifts, leaning forward slightly—literally on edge. Why the hell did he have to say that so fucking ominously? “I was ‘til you showed up,” Eddie answers.

Billy hums noncommittally and doesn’t even try to hide the way he’s looking Eddie up and down. Sizing him up. Double-checking to make sure Eddie’s not a threat, maybe. Eddie fights the urge to duck his head and pull his shoulders in to assure Billy that he isn’t one. He’s a lover, not a fighter. In theory, anyway.

“Now what can I do for you on this fine evening, Mr. Hargrove? I don’t keep everything on me…“ Eddie trails off before he continues, “But I got anything you’d want.”

Billy snorts, “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“You’re from Cali, right? I got weed from there. Stuff that tastes like blueberries,” Eddie leans forward and bounces his brows, “I got some shrooms from the coast too that could even knock someone like you on your ass. So, what’re you into, Hargrove? What’s your poison?”

Billy’s got an amused look on his face. He’s smirking, but no part of it’s warm or welcoming. It sets Eddie even further on edge than he already had been. “You sure know a lot about me.”

Eddie shrugs, feigning innocence. He takes another pull from his cigarette. “It’s a small town; people talk. Especially around people like me. Y’know, the kinda people who don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. And you, Billy Hargrove, you’re, well…”

Eddie bites his tongue before he continues to embarrass himself. Clears his throat instead, tries to think of something not entirely stupid to say, but the words rush around his noggin so quickly that he can’t seem to catch and pin down any one of ‘em.

The forest floor crunches under the sole of Billy’s heavy black boots as he takes a slow, purposeful step forward. “I’m what, freak?”

Eddie swallows. Feels the hair on the back of his neck stand. Jesus, does this guy ever blink? Fucking blue-eyed people and their zombie stares…

He smiles despite his nerves. Then, with a tilt of his head, he answers. “You’re hard to miss.”

It’s grounds to get punched, Eddie knows. Innocent as the comment is, Eddie’s been hit for less. Shit, he got shoved into a locker for looking too long that one time in middle school. Spent the whole fucking lunch break with no one but his ripe gym socks to keep him company. So yeah, maybe Eddie’s a little jumpy around jocks like Billy Hargrove who look like they could fold Eddie into a pretzel without breaking a sweat.

Billy doesn’t look like he’s gearing up to punch Eddie, though. Not yet anyway. He just looks sort of… amused.

It’s getting late. The sun’s low in the sky, and every few seconds it catches on Billy’s earring or his chain, both temporarily blinding him. Eddie doesn’t let his eyes wander, though. He’s got enough self-discipline for that at least.

“I’ll take some of that blueberry kush,” Billy finally says, checking over his shoulder one last time before he flicks his head towards Eddie. “But I don’t got any money. Not until Monday. I’ll have to owe you.”

“Sorry pal,” Eddie leans back, palms against the flat of the picnic tabletop. He blows the smoke from his cigarette up towards the sky. “I don’t do I.O.U’s.”

The air shifts between them. Eddie can feel it. The blue-eyed zombie stare darkens, and Billy takes another step forward until his hip nearly knocks up against one of Eddie’s bent legs. “What? You don’t think I’m good for it, pal?”

“I don’t know you, man,” Eddie mutters around his cigarette, shifting uncomfortably. He always hates this part of the job. He’s been a punching bag on and off for most of his life, but that doesn’t mean he’s gotta like it.

“You just went on and on about how you did.” Billy spits, and Eddie flinches as it hits his cheek. He doesn’t dare raise a hand to swipe it off though, lest it be interpreted as a move to strike.

“Look, I can hold it for you until Monday, but that’s the best I can do.” Eddie offers, but it’s not enough. He knows it’s not even close to enough. Guys like Hargrove aren’t used to being told no.

“C’mon man, there’s gotta be some deal you can cut me. I just wanna have a good fucking night. You can understand that, can’t you, Munson?” Billy asks, his voice going soft. Smooth. Breathy.

And even though his insides are fucking liquifying in real time as he does it, Eddie shakes his head, his long hair curtaining his face as he does. “Can’t do it, man.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just beat the shit out of you and take your shit anyway, huh? How about that?” Billy asks, his bottom lip caught between especially sharp-looking teeth. Eddie looks up, his dark eyes lock onto Billy’s salt-water blue ones. Stormy fucking seas. Eddie sure as hell doesn’t want to get beat up tonight, but if he starts cutting deals and giving special treatment to everyone who threatens him he’d be intimidated right out of business. And he needs the cash. Can’t leave all the bills to Uncle Wayne.

Before Eddie can think up a clever answer, Billy’s got his head thrown back, and he’s cackling. “Shit, I’m fucking with you, dude. Put that face away. I swear, no one in this fucking town can take a goddamn joke.”

Eddie doesn’t bother defending himself, just takes his cigarette from his mouth, knocks off the ash and gives a shaky exhale before putting it back between his lips. He barely starts in on his next inhale when the damn thing is plucked out of his mouth.

Lightening fast. Eddie hadn’t even seen his hands—but there was his cigarette, half-smoked, between Billy’s lips. Eddie feels his face heat at the idea of Billy’s mouth being where his own was, just a second before.

“Ha ha,” Eddie mutters, his eyes narrowing. He’s feeling somewhat brave, despite feeling distinctly like a mouse that’s being battered by a cat's paw. “Very cute.”

Billy tips his head, accepting the comment as if it were a compliment. He doesn’t give Eddie his dart back though—the guy just keeps smoking it with a swarmy fucking grin on his tanned, well-proportioned face.

Because the truth is that Billy is easy on the eyes. Nice to look at. It’s entirely counteracted by the fact that the longer you look at that aforementioned face the higher your chances are of getting a knuckle sandwich sent hurtling your way… but Eddie’s still got functioning eyeballs. He can see that Billy’s… well. Beautiful.

In a weird way, though. Like how Eddie pictures the elves from Middle Earth might look.

Fucking ethereal and shit.

“I’ll cut you a deal, Munson,” Billy says, blue eyes and dark lashes illuminated by the cherry of that stolen cigarette. “I’ll let you have something. Y’know, as payment.”

But pretty as Billy is, Eddie’s no sucker. “I don’t do trades either.”

“You’re gonna wanna hear this trade.” Billy exhales a cloud of white between them.

Eddie doubts it, but the sooner he hears it the sooner he can shoot it down. “Spit it out then.” He sighs.

But Billy doesn’t ‘spit it out’. Instead, he shifts weight from foot to foot, looking suddenly agitated again. Billy sniffs and scratches his nose with the nail of his thumb. Like he’s tweaking. Eddie waits him out. Curiosity officially piqued.

Finally, after doing his little dance, Billy leans forward, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. “I’ll let you suck my dick.”

And that.

Well.

Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

The shock is written all over Eddie’s face, he’s sure. He’s never been good at concealing his emotions—an open book, his mom called him. Shit liar, is what his dad called him. Either way, he knows the surprise of what Billy’s offered up plays across his face by the way Billy’s eyes dance around it, looking pleased.

“What?” Eddie squeaks out, face suddenly on fire.

“You heard me,” Billy snaps, “I ain’t sayin’ it again.”

Eddie blinks, looks away from Billy Hargrove’s icey freeze-pop eyes. It’s no easy task. “You’ll let me…?”

Eddie motions towards the crotch of Billy’s exceptionally tight jeans. Jeans that leave very little to the imagination, Eddie might add.

Billy grins, his pink tongue caught between his teeth as he leans back, jutting his hips out a little.

“I’ll let you,” he confirms. Standing there like he’s God’s fucking gift.

Though he’s got very little air left in his lungs, Eddie gives a weak scoff. “Shouldn’t this be the other way around?”

And for the first time tonight, Eddie does feel at risk of being sucker punched. Billy’s eyes flare, and just like that his beauty melts into something ugly. Like a spell is cast over him—beauty to beast. “I’m no cock-sucker.” He spits out.

In a show of surrender, Eddie raises his hands. “I didn’t say you were. I just—usually when someone is offering sexual favors it’s… Y’know what? Whatever. Doesn’t matter. I’m not—I don’t trade in pleasures of the flesh, ‘kay? That’s not what I’m doing here, Hargrove. It’s cash only.”

But Billy’s either got a hearing problem or a comprehension problem because he rolls his eyes and just keeps on bartering. “Fine, I’ll give you a handjob. After my blow job.”

Now. Eddie isn’t a prude. In fact, he’s probably something of a pervert if his porno of choice is any indication of that, but this—with Billy?

Eddie’s spent this entire interaction scared fucking stiff, and now Billy’s offering to go and get him into an even more vulnerable position—with Eddie’s pants literally around his ankles?

“No.” Eddie aggressively shakes his head, sending his curls in motion. No no no. Fuck no. As hot as Billy is—no. The decision is final. Take it or leave it, Eddie thinks stubbornly. Heels successfully dug in.

Billy sighs through his nose, takes a step back and chuckles dryly to himself. “I know you’re a queer, Munson. Don’t—!” Billy snaps, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face when he dares open his mouth to deny it, “don’t fucking lie to me.

Eddie swallows, promptly shutting the fuck up.

Is he really that obvious…?

Billy continues, “I know you’re a queer. I saw the way you used to look at Harrington, back when we were all in school together. Gym class,” Billy leans forward, back in Eddie’s space, their shared cigarette bouncing between them as he speaks, “the showers. Remember?”

It’s been a year since Hargrove and Harrington both leap-frogged him out of Hawkins High, diplomas in tow. A full year, but apparently Billy’s got a fucking photographic memory. Eddie feels his t-shirt stick to his back, slick with sweat. “Whatever, man. It’s not a crime to look.”

“It is in this shit hole of a town,” Billy chuckles, dark and humourless, “so you get it now? I know you like dick. And I like pot. So, let’s work something out, here, Munson.”

Billy claps his hands together between them, loud and jarring. “Time’s a’wastin’, amigo!”

Jesus this guy…

“Even if I did like dick,” Eddie tilts his head and scrunches his nose, “it doesn’t mean I want your dick, Hargrove.”

“A dick’s a dick, man. And trust me, I got a nice, big fat one for you to choke on, trust me, you’ll love it,” Billy laughs as he speaks, watching in amusement as Eddie rubs a hand over his heated, blotchy face. “C’mon, you’ve sucked cock before, right?”

The simple answer is yeah, a couple of times. Every time it ended pretty much the same though. With him being shoved off after they’d finished. Being told they weren’t gay, that if Eddie were to ever tell anyone about the encounter they would deny it, call Eddie a liar, or worse, beat the shit out of him.

He’s not a dummy; Eddie knows being queer in Hawkins is a risk, so it made sense to want to keep it hush-hush. Eddie’s the rumoured gay kid, so if you’re gonna experiment with someone, why not let it be with him? But after a handful of times being treated like trash—something people needed to wash their hands in Javex from after simply touching him—he stopped. It didn’t feel good.

“You don’t gotta answer. I already know you have.” Billy mutters, smug. “Mouth like that.”

There’s no way Billy knows, but Eddie ducks his head, tired of how this entire fucking conversation has him feeling like he wants to crawl out of his skin. Tired of how the darker the sky gets, the brighter Billy’s eyes seem to turn.

And what the fuck’s wrong with Eddie’s mouth..?

“Cash only,” Eddie repeats. Monotone. Suddenly overstimulated as fuck.

Billy finally pulls the last bit that he can from the cigarette, down to the butt, before he flicks the remains of it into the grass. He gives one final, frustrated exhale of smoke. “Fine. Jesus, Munson, you drive one hell of a bargain. But I’ll sweeten the deal for you, alright?”

“Jesus, Hargrove, are your ears not working? Or did you get hit one too many times with the basketball during your jock days? I said I’m not interested. In your cock or your hand or whatever else you try and offer up.” Eddie exclaims, voice going high with strain.

But it’s like the more worked up Eddie gets, the more Billy wags his fucking tail. He’s all lit up, shiny white teeth built for puncturing. He gets back to crowding Eddie—Eddie, who’s one hair’s breadth away from raising his hands and shoving this smug asshole away from him, not caring if he gets his ass kicked as a consequence, but then Billy’s talking again. And Eddie… Eddie’s listening.

“We could kiss a little,” Billy drawls out, angling his mouth towards Eddie’s ear. He lets his voice drop to a low rumble, his words vibrating in that wide chest of his. It sends a chill down Eddie’s spine. “Y’know, make out. You got a van, right? Nice and private. You’d like that.”

Eddie turns his head towards Billy, so close they’re nearly touching each other. His mouth hangs open, slack, but Eddie can’t get a fucking word out. His whole fucking life, all he’s ever heard is ‘Jesus, does this kid have an off switch?’ ‘Eddie, give mommy’s ears a break, please,’ ‘Eddie is very disruptive in class with his constant chatting’. And now he can’t make a single goddamn sound!

Billy, on the other hand, seems entirely pleased at rendering the great motor-mouth-Munson to a mute. “I’m a good kisser, too.” He adds, eyes dropping down to Eddie’s mouth. Like he’s gonna do it right here and now. Eddie’s throat clicks when he swallows.

The embarrassing part is that, well—Except his Mom and his Meemaw and his weird cousin that one time, he’s never… y’know. Been kissed.

Sucked cock? Sure, yeah. That ship has sailed. Sayo-fuckin’-nara.

But kissing? On the mouth? Romantically? It hasn’t happened for Eddie yet. Not that any of what Billy’s propositioning here is in any way romantic, of course, but…

Eddie watches as Billy darts a pink tongue out between his lips, wetting them so that they glisten. Jesus Christ. How can he say no to that? Rules or no, Eddie’s only fucking human. Does he not bleed if he’s cut? Does he not get hard if he’s presented with an absolute fucking smoke show like Billy Hargrove offering to make out with him? All for the low low price of his dignity and a couple of ounces?

“You… actually want to?” Eddie frowns, counter to the nervous smile that’s pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Billy clicks his tongue and shrugs a shoulder, eyes scanning the horizon for like, the hundredth time. “What I want is for you to cut me a deal. That’s enough, ain’t it?”

No, is Eddie’s knee-jerk answer. It’s not enough. Not even close. But, maybe the first kiss fantasy he’s got built up in his head wasn’t ever gonna happen. Especially not for someone like Eddie. He’s probably lucky. Billy’s hot. Willing. And Eddie’s… well, there’s not exactly anyone lining up at Eddie’s front door for the pleasure of his company, let’s just say that.

He feels himself nodding before his brain has even had a chance to catch up. “Yeah. Fine. Okay.”

“Yeah?” Billy grins, canines flashing, “Guess I should’ve started with the chick stuff first, huh?”

Chick stuff? Eddie makes a face. Suddenly emboldened, he shoves a hand against Billy’s shoulder, which just makes him laugh harder. “Don’t be a shithead, Hargrove, or deal’s off. Got it? I’ll walk, I swear to Christ!”

Billy doesn’t agree nor does he disagree, he just leers after Eddie like a fucking bonafied weirdo. And as someone who’s all but cornered the market on being a bonafide weirdo, that’s saying something. He hops off the picnic table, scooping up his lunch box of goodies as he does, not daring to turn his back on Hargrove. “I’m parked just through here.”

Eddie starts towards his van, stealing glances over at Billy as he trudges on after him, only a step behind. Just enough to make Eddie nervous. “Don’t you have like, a job?”

“Two of ‘em, actually.” Billy answers, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Why?”

“How do you not have any cash on you?” Eddie asks, blunt as always.

Billy stiffens, just a little. “That’s none of your business, Munson.”

Eddie raises his hands in yet another mock surrender, “sure, whatever. Remain a man of mystery, I don’t care.”

Just seems stupid, is all. Billy must be fucking terrible with money. Probably spends it all on his obnoxiously loud car. Eddie doesn’t voice any of his many theories though. Billy’s covered in live wires, and Eddie’s not overly eager to start touching and testing ‘em.

The woods aren’t especially dense, but it’s new growth—the old forest chopped down a few decades back and left to grow back all weedy and skinny. There’s lots of branches to duck under along with dirt holes to roll your ankles in. Eddie knows his pathway like the back of his hand by this point, but Billy; not so much. There’s a bundle of eye level branches that always used to smack Eddie in the face when he was focused on his footing, so he makes sure to turn and holds the offending branches back for Billy so he doesn’t totally eat it.

Thinking back, maybe it’s a weird thing to do for another guy, but Eddie’s radar for what’s weird and what isn’t has been busted since he first got cut out of his mom. Always difficult, even back then.

So yeah, Eddie doesn’t get a thank you, or whatever—instead Billy just eyes him with an air of suspicion as he ducks under Eddie’s arm. Like he’s waiting for Eddie to let the branches go or something. Who knows.

Either way, it’s the last great hurdle before they’re back at Eddie’s van, which is right where he left her; parked in the middle of the small gravel lot behind the watershed. Nobody came back here, especially not at night.

His hands shake when he takes out his keys, feeling Billy’s eyes on him. Briefly wonders what kind of mess was waiting for them in the back, but whatever. It’s not like Billy’s expecting The Ritz.

He gets the doors unlocked, and because he’s a gentleman, he holds the door open for his hook-up.

Despite his nerves rattling around under his skin, Eddie gives a little flourish for good measure, holding out an arm for Billy to take. “After you, m’lord.”

Billy scoffs, blue eyes rolling back in his head. And as dim as the light is, Eddie swears he can see two pink spots form on the apples of Billy’s cheeks. He counts it for a win.

“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” Billy mutters as he crawls into the back of Eddie’s van, pointedly ignoring Eddie’s offered arm, the whole thing shifting with the heft of him.

“Wow, y’know what, Hargrove, I had never heard that one before.” Eddie says, hot on Billy’s heels. He swings the door shut behind him.

The back of Eddie’s van is pretty spartan, but only because he’d just finished using it to lug a shit ton of gear to and from a Corroded Coffin gig. What’s left behind is a couple of ratty blankets, some old sweaters, a scattering of sheet music and some candy bar wrappers. It could be neater, but overall it’s not terrible.

Billy sits with his back to one side of the van, his legs spread, knees bent. He sits like a man. One used to taking up room and not apologizing for it. Eddie backs himself up against the opposite wall of the van’s interior, knees bent to his chest, legs crossing at his ankles. There’s not much light back here, but Eddie’s eyes adjust quickly to spot Billy’s agitated-looking face.

“Well?” Mr. California barks, one of his legs begins bouncing restlessly. It shakes the whole van.

Eddie swallows, “well?”

“Where’s the weed?” Billy asks.

Oh.

Right. Wake up, Munson.

Eddie scrambles to get his feet back under him before he squeezes his upper half into the front of the van, reaching into the glove box to grab a baggie.

“Here y’go.” Eddie winces as he pulls himself back through. He sits on bent legs, closer to Billy now. He bestows upon him the sacred sandwich baggy of goods. “Premium blueberry kush, 100% indica. So it’ll mellow you right out. Not that you need to chill out, of course, but, y’know. It should, in theory, help with that scary vein you get in your forehead sometimes.”

Billy glares at Eddie as he swipes the bag out of his hands, the scary vein threatening to make an appearance right there and now. He turns that glare toward the bundles of dried herbs.

“You got a bong or a pipe or somethin’?” Billy mumbles.

“Duh,” Eddie scoffs, breathing entirely too hard, “Why?”

“What’d’ya mean, ‘why?’ To smoke this shit with.” Billy gives the baggy a few vicious shakes in front of Eddie’s face.

Eddie feels his eyes cross as he follows the weed. “Right now?”

“Unless you feel like rollin’ it.” Billy shrugs, sounding like his already thin patience is beginning to wear even thinner.

“No���uh, I just thought you’d wanna smoke at home or whatever.” Not with Eddie.

A crease forms between Billy’s eyebrows as he frowns. “What, you don’t wanna smoke with me, Munson?”

Eddie snorts, shakes his head, “hey, I’ll smoke with anyone—“

“Then shut the fuck up and get the bong already!” Billy shouts, fuse burnt down to the quick.

And if there’s one thing about Eddie, is he responds well to yelling. Or, not well, per se, but shouting always seems to snap him out of whatever fog he’s in. It works on him. So, yeah, he responds. Jumps to attention. His mom used to have to snap her fingers in front of his face to ‘bring him back’, she said. No one else seems to bother with that sort of gentle touch with Eddie though, except Uncle Wayne, but he usually just gives Eddie’s hair a tussle instead of a snap.

So back to the front he goes, sliding the keys into the ignition and starting the old girl up while he’s there so that they’ve got some music to fill the silence. And if memory serves him correctly, Billy’s got pretty decent taste, music-wise.

When he sits back down, bong in hand.

“Ta-da!” Eddie sings, holding the contraption up by the neck to Billy in victory, careful not to tip it over. Billy looks entirely unimpressed as he grabs it out of Eddie’s hand and slots it between his thighs.

Lucky bong.

Billy starts grinding up some pieces between his fingers and packing the bowl with a familiarity that Eddie can respect.

Technically, it’s still Eddie’s weed that Billy’s prepping, since he hasn’t exactly gotten payment for the pot yet, but… maybe Billy needs the vapour courage before he can face the idea of kissing another dude. Of kissing Eddie.

Eddie watches from behind the hair he’d let fall in his face as Billy lights the bowl, inhales, and takes a hit. It’s sort of pretty, the way he slowly exhales the smoke out of the side of his mouth. Away from Eddie.

Then the bong is being pressed into his hands. Eddie’s turn.

He takes a rip, then another one once Billy’s taken another hit of his own, and that’s all it takes for the both of ‘em to get laid out on their asses. They end up flat on their backs, the round part of their shoulders touching, both staring up at the ceiling of the van, with rolled-up sweaters and blankets under their heads in the way of makeshift pillows. They’re the kind of high where time feels like it’s barely moving. Something made up. A concept. Like there’s a very real possibility that Eddie and Billy have been lying here for an eternity, and then some.

And Eddie still hasn’t gotten any kisses from Billy.

But he also hasn’t gotten any punches by Billy either, so there’s that…

“You ever seen the ocean, Munson?” Billy murmurs in a voice that’s gone a little rough thanks to all the smoke still floating around the van. Now successfully hot-boxed. Drawing out their high.

Eddie’s arms feel heavy. “No.”

Billy turns his neck to look at Eddie like he’s re-evaluating his idea of him paired with this new, disappointing information. Eddie turns his head away from Billy, just a little, feeling weirdly embarrassed. “Never even left the state.”

Small town, trailer trash… that’s probably what Billy thinks of him. Billy, who’s been everywhere. Especially compared to Eddie. He expects to get laughed at, but Billy keeps surprising Eddie. He just looks… bummed out.

“You’d probably hate it,” Billy states, sure of himself, eyes dancing across Eddie’s face. “You’d burn right fuckin’ quick. Get sand all up in your shorts. D’you even know how to swim?”

“A little.” Eddie means to say defensively, but it comes out as little more than a sigh.

“Not in waves, though, I bet. You’d end up swallowing your weight in seawater before I hauled your ass out,” Billy’s smiling at the strange little fantasy where Eddie’s tormented by the elements. Eddie’s giggling along too, though he’s entirely unsure as to why.

“A crab might even,” lighting fast, Billy reaches over to punch the barely-there roll on Eddie’s stomach, “get’chya.”

Eddie yelps—or maybe he squeals. He can’t be sure. Either way, whatever sound he lets out isn’t in any way charming or cute. Which; no surprise there. Instinctually, his hand’s gone and encircled itself around Billy’s wrist, but he’s too fucking blitzed out to do more than just squeeze it, trying to appear threatening. Sort of tough when you can’t stop fucking giggling. “Stop, stop—I’m gonna piss myself, dude.”

Billy’s got his tongue caught between his teeth, laughing along, low and rough in his throat, but to his credit (and probably a desire not to be covered in piss) he releases his hold on Eddie’s stomach.

They settle back on their backs, one Metallica track leading into another. It’s the only way Eddie can be sure the clocks haven’t all stopped entirely. Proof the passage of time is still in working order. He exhales in relief, staring at Billy’s profile.

For someone so fucking scary, he’s got deceptively cute features. An honest-to-Christ button nose, along with some ridiculously long eyelashes. Golden ringlets fall around his face. Freckles too, all over his cheeks. Even a Cupid’s bow. When Billy fell from heaven, he didn’t hit like, a single ugly branch on his way down.

Eddie blinks before his brain catches up with what he’s looking at; Billy, staring back at him. When did Billy turn his head? How long have their eyes been locked? A second? A year? Time’s fucking with him so hard, Jesus…

“M’not really an outdoorsy kinda guy.” Eddie admits, unable to keep from smiling.

Because of the weed.

Billy gives a lazy snort as if what Eddie had just said was the understatement of the year. “That’s weird, because you kinda look like a bug.”

It shouldn’t make him laugh as hard as it does, but Eddie feels the rumble of it in his chest, and he can’t help but let out a series of very unflattering sounding laughs. Billy’s not laughing along, but he seems entirely entertained by Eddie’s fucking display.

When he finally catches his breath, Eddie indignantly squeaks out, “How do I look like a bug?”

“Because,” Billy flicks his chin towards Eddie’s face, teasing half-smile still firmly in place, “you got them big buggy eyes.”

Eddie blows a low-energy strawberry, rolling his eyes before they land back on Billy. Can’t seem to take his eyes off of him for long. “I’ll have you know that my ‘big buggy eyes’ are my best feature.”

Billy narrows his eyes, clearly amused. “You think so?”

“I know so. It’s what everyone tells me.” Eddie widens his eyes to drive the point home.

Everyone being his mom when she was still alive, and… well, just his mom. But she was a real smart lady. And like, super pretty. A total knock-out. She knew about this sort of thing. He remembers how she used to go on and on about his big brown puppy-dog eyes, about how they’d break hearts one day. And no one, especially not Billy Hargrove, can take that away from him. Even if it is something all moms say to their funny-looking kids.

“Well, everyone’s lying to you,” Billy says, in that casually cruel way of his.

Eddie drops his jaw in an exaggerated show of the offense. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” Billy confirms, smug. A true blue asshole; through and through. “Your best feature’s your lips, no question.”

And. Well, no one’s ever said anything about his lips before. Not his mom, not his hook-ups—no one.

They’re just… lips. Not especially big or small. Kind of right in the middle. They’re even kinda chapped right now.

“Gee, thanks.” He murmurs, from lips that Billy Hargrove apparently approves of. Maybe even likes. His fingers twitch at his sides, palms growing sweaty.

Billy just looks away, like Eddie’s caught him doing something wrong. Caught him being nice. Guess it probably hurts the ol’ bad boy image to compliment other boy’s lips. Eddie resists the urge to raise one of his hands and feel along the ridges of his mouth, to map ‘em out. Try and figure out what Billy likes about them enough to say it out loud. He’s buzzing with the compliment.

“So, you still want… y’know, payment or whatever?” Billy asks, keeping his words to little more than a low murmur between them.

The song playing through the speakers stops—a brief pause before it leads into the next one. It’s deathly quiet in those tense few seconds.

Eddie doesn’t answer Billy right away. He can’t. So instead, he just… lets the questions hang between them. Because the thing is, God help him, he does. And yeah, maybe he didn’t plan on his first kiss being with big bad Billy Hargrove—maybe instead of golden curls and freckles Eddie had envisioned dark, fluffy hair and a splattering of moles. Big brown bedroom eyes instead of sharp, icy blue ones. Either way, he’s way out of his depth. Out of his league. In fact, Eddie should be on his hands and knees thanking Billy for even considering sucking face with a guy like him. He should be psyched. And he is!

Fuck, this weed is making it hard to keep his thoughts linear. He stares back at Billy, realizing suddenly that he’s been waiting for an answer to his question.

“Nothing is ever free, Hargrove,” Eddie answers, cryptic, even to his own ears, “you should know that.”

Because it’s the truth, isn’t it? Nobody just does shit out of the goodness of their hearts. Everyone expects something in return. Everyone’s gotta pay the piper. And if something seems too good to be true, then it probably is. So yeah, Eddie gives what he can, but he also takes what he can get. Same as Billy, Eddie suspects.

Billy’s got a real perplexed sort of look on his face. Golden and tan, even in the cold, sterile light of night. His eyes momentarily dart to Eddie’s lips, just for a split second. But split second or no, Eddie’d caught it. The tiny motion sends his beat-up little dime-store heart all a’flutter. Billy likes these lips.

“Close your eyes,” Billy tells him, voice cigarette rough.

Eddie does it, trying to keep his breathing even. Shallow, so he doesn’t puff hot air in Billy’s face when he approaches. His hands lay limply by his sides, with his hair splayed around his like some expanding ink blot on the floor of his van.

He has the sudden and quite frankly embarrassing image of Snow White lying dead in her glass coffin, pale-skinned and raven-haired, waiting for a kiss of her own.

It’s so stupid that he ends up snorting.

“What? You think this is funny, Munson?” Billy growls, voice sounding like it’s still to the right of him, but that he’s propped up on an elbow or something.

Eddie shakes his head, keeping his eyes closed. A smile tugs at one of the corners of his mouth, totally beyond his control. “No, no, it’s stupid. I. Just—fuck. Sorry. Forget I did that.”

“If you think this is stupid, then I can go. I don’t need this shit—“

”No! Stop—“ Eddie reaches out and grabs the front of Billy’s shirt, his eyes popping open in panic. “You’re not stupid—I’m… shit, you’re gonna laugh.”

“Just tell me, shithead.” Billy snaps, face getting more and more red as his temper rises.

“Fine. Jesus.” Eddie squirms under the intensity of Billy’s gaze. All hard edges and intimidation now. Eddie’s only had the Billy that tickles him and tells him nice things about his lips for a fucking millisecond, but he already misses him.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before, alright?” He blurts out, quick like a bandaid.

And with that, Billy’s eyes go a little funny. The icey shards in his eyes melt back to tumultuous waters. “Seriously?”

“No, dude, I’m lying about being a total loser with no game.” Eddie snorts, emboldened by his buzzing high.

Billy frowns, “Aren’t you like, two years older than me?”

“Look, I had opportunities, okay? But mostly… It was, y’know. With girls. Pretty ones, too!” his brows shoot up, attempting to emphasize the point, “but I just… I never wanted to.”

Billy’s stone-still while he listens. Looking like he’s hanging off every word that Eddie’s stumbling over.

“So, you can’t even fake it?” He asks.

Eddie blinks, suddenly lost. “Fake what?”

“Liking chicks.” He answers quickly.

“Nah,” Eddie huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “I’m a shitty liar.”

“Poor bastard.” Billy mumbles, mostly to himself. Then he clicks his tongue, “That’s a real tough break, amigo.”

Eddie’s shoulders twitch. “I get by.”

A corner of Billy’s mouth turns down and he tilts his head like he’s allowing Eddie some small, indiscernible mercy.

“I just feel bad,” Billy says, low and smooth, “you starting at the very top like this. Everyone else after me is gonna feel like a major fuckin’ letdown.”

Eddie snorts, looking up at Billy, who’s got himself propped up on an elbow and is sort of hovering above him. “Big talk, Hargrove.”

Canines flash. “Well I got a big game, Munson.”

“You’re a real cocky b—” Eddie’s words are smushed back into his mouth when Billy suddenly leans forward and presses his lips against Eddie’s.

Billy’s got a hand against Eddie’s neck, the pad of his thumb against the edge of his jaw, tilting his face up just so. Eddie can hear his heart thundering in his chest, white noise overtaking For Whom the Bell Tolls.

His first kiss.

It’s warm and soft. Drier than he expected it would be. The stubble of Billy’s moustache scrapes against his upper lip, sending shockwaves up and down Eddie’s spine. Billy smells like cologne. Or maybe that’s aftershave—he can’t tell. Eddie fills his lungs with it, breathing deeply through his nose.

The thumb resting against Eddie’s jaw begins stroking along his cheek. Delicately. Like Eddie’s something fragile. Precious, even. He’s gone all tingly everywhere Billy touches him—like magic.

It’s about this time that Billy parts his lips, sliding a tongue along the seam of Eddie’s mouth, gentle prodding—like he’s looking for a weak point. Somewhere to gain entry.

Or maybe he just wanted to taste Eddie’s lips.

Hey, can’t a guy dream?

Billy shifts his weight, further encroaching into Eddie’s personal space, his broad shoulders caging over top of Eddie’s narrower ones. Then Billy raises a leg and swings it over before letting his hips drop over top of Eddie’s own. It’s like touching a fucking live wire. He can’t help the way he reflexively gasps and bucks up into the solid bulk above him. And sweet Jesus Mary and Joseph… he’s rock fucking hard in his jeans. When did that happen?

Flood gates open. Billy—clearly emboldened by the discovery of what he’s doing to Eddie’s body—deepens their kiss by sticking his tongue down Eddie’s throat. The sensation is weird as hell—Eddie’s only ever had his own tongue in his mouth, but there Billy’s is, swirling around, dipping in and out as the sound of their smacking lips fills the van, harmonizing with Hammett‘s insane, face-melting guitar solo.

There are teeth involved now too; Billy’s biting Eddie’s lower lip and pulling, stopping right before it gets painful. It brings sounds out of Eddie that he’d never heard himself make before. Didn’t even know that he could make. All breathy and moany. Maybe he should be embarrassed about how loud he’s progressively getting, but it’s hard to think straight when Billy’s slowly grinding his hips down against his. And Billy’s—fuck, Billy’s hard too. That’s gotta be what that is, right? Jesus H. Christ…

Their hips move in tandem now, the same way their tongues seem to. It’s like Eddie’s body just knows what to do. It’s fucking incredible. He’s never been naturally good at anything in his life. Nothing comes easily to Eddie Munson. Every talent he’s got has been hard-fought, earned through blood, sweat and tears.

But this… Eddie might actually be kinda good at this.

Or maybe Billy’s just a really good teacher.

He’s a cocky asshole, but Eddie fears he might have been serious about everyone else being a letdown after him. Because how the hell is anyone else going to compare to this? To Billy Hargrove. Mr. California King. Eddie could swear he’s glowing right now—like Billy’s spent so much time laid out in the sunlight that a couple of rays got trapped just underneath his skin. Dude can’t help but shine.

Yeah, he’ll be a tough act to follow.

But that’s another Eddie’s problem. Future Eddie. Meanwhile, the here and now Eddie, is getting kissed. He’s got Billy’s big arms wrapped around him, like Eddie’s somehow worth something to someone like him.

Down south, there’s just the right amount of pressure on his denim-trapped dick. He can feel the line of Billy’s own cock bump against his own when he pushes hard enough. He could fucking weep. It’s almost too much—too good. Too perfect. What’s he gonna do with himself now that he knows he could be doing this? God, how’s he ever gonna jerk off when this—when Billy… oh fuck-!

His orgasm hits him like a goddamn freight train. The switch on his brain had gone off and it didn’t even have the courtesy of letting him know!

Eddie’s jaw drops open, mid-kiss, and he pants—moans—into Billy’s mouth. His hips go stiff, stuck in its lifted position, trying to drive upwards into Billy as hard as he can. He can feel himself shake all over as the waves crash over him, one after the other in quick succession, nearly whiting out his vision. He shuts his eyes as he finally comes down on the other side of it, releasing a choked-sounding exhale.

He goes limp. Boneless. Buzzing and tingling and vibrating all over. Waits for the feeling of mortification to overtake him. It should be here in 3… 2…

“Did you just…?” Billy asks, lifting his own hips to examine the scene of the crime. Eddie imagines the wet spot steadily growing on the front of his jeans, a little off to the left, is pretty hard to miss.

“Holy shit, you did,” Billy chuckles, slightly awed sounding, “you just creamed your fuckin’ pants.”

Eddie whimpers. The sharp contrast of absolute bone-deep humiliation paired with the fluttery, intensely content feeling he's still got working its way through his nervous system is enough to make his head spin.

“Sorry.” Eddie blinks his eyes open.

Eddie didn’t think it was possible for Billy to look any more smug than he did before, but somehow, he’s achieving the impossible.

“Don’t be,” Billy insists, a chuckle still at the edge of his words. He grunts a little as he rolls off of Eddie and drops down onto his back. Taking up his previous position of laying shoulder to shoulder next to each other. “I take it as a compliment.”

It’s kinda sweet of him. Because what happened was embarrassing. No two ways about it. Shooting off like that, like Eddie’s some horn dog who can’t control himself?

But, well, if the boot fits…

Billy reaches down and roughly adjusts himself before sitting up. Gentle touches all used up for Eddie, apparently. Then he lifts his ass just enough that he can slide a hand behind him to retrieve a crumpled-looking box of Marlboro reds. Shakily, Eddie sits up too, engaging muscles that still feel jello-like.

Billy knocks out a cigarette and puts it between his lips. Then he knocks out a second one, and without asking, puts it in Eddie’s mouth. Billy leans forward, and Eddie mirrors him—still just trying to keep up—moving until the ends of their cigarettes line up. Billy ignites his lighter, temporarily blinding them both, but he holds it in front of them, and they inhale in tandem.

Smoke fills Eddie’s lungs. The familiar, soothing burn in his throat makes him feel a little more solid. Present. It makes what just happened all the more bewildering.

They smoke in silence.

Well, except for the music from his cassette still humming from the speakers. Billy mumbles something about loving a certain drum solo, but other than that, it’s crickets. It goes on like this until their cigarettes are half their original size and Eddie finally grows a pair.

“What about you?” He murmurs around his dart.

Billy exhales a stream of smoke out of his nose, looking like a sick ass dragon before he answers, “What about me?”

Eddie flicks his chin towards Billy’s general direction. “You wanna get off too?”

Billy just snorts and shakes his head, like Eddie had said something prosperous. “Nah.”

A pit forms in the center of Eddie’s gut. Souring any of the leftover post-nut happy chemicals that were still rolling around his noggin. That sting of rejection. The knowledge that Billy doesn’t actually want someone like Eddie touching him. Like Billy’s itching to go take a shower and wash all the Eddie-cooties off of him, before heading back to his actual life. Like being with Eddie is something embarrassing. It’s a sinking fucking feeling, one he knows no post-high buzz or cigarette is going to touch. Sometimes Eddie forgets that he’s just a detour. Never anyone’s destination point.

“Maybe next time.” Billy mumbles, so low that Eddie almost misses it entirely. He finishes his cigarette before stuffing the butt of it into one of the many makeshift ashtrays Eddie’s got kicking around back here. Then he starts making his way to the back doors, slipping out into the Indiana night.

Next time.

The words echo in Eddie’s head. Bounce off the walls, does couple of cartwheels, spins. The letters get all scrambled up before he’s able to make sense of them.

Next time.

“Pleasure doing business with you, California.” Eddie hollers out a split second before Billy can close the door.

A half-smile forms on that Cupid’s bow-tipped mouth. Pretty as a picture. How did Eddie never notice before? And how’s he supposed to think about anything else?

“See you around, Eddie.” He purrs, knows exactly what he’s doing, Eddie’s sure of it—then slams the door shut between them. He’s engulfed in darkness again. His eyes are back to their unadjusted state, while specks of nothing flit across his blackened vision. He gnaws on his bottom lip to keep the laugh that’s threatening to bubble up from his chest at bay.

Next time.

—

Permanent Tag List: (dm me if you’d like to be added or removed—OR if you’d only like to be tagged for specific ships. ie, ONLY Steddie or ONLY Harringrove, etc.)

@stervrucht @dame-zoom-a-lot @lawrencebshoggoth @morallyundefined @thepossummoldypasta @wheneverfeasible @sanctumdemunson @chaotic-waffle @bookworm0690 @lifelessstar

[wh0lemilk0vich]

Any time I see billy being hot on my dash

I want him to be fat!babygirl!Steve's bully dom in contrast to Eddie being his praise/worship dom

I'm very desirous and needful of teasing/bully/degradation play with my beautiful chubby head canon boy 🥺🥺

[biillys]

billy hargrove: in every scene — 2.04 chapter four: will the wise

[toobusybeingdelulu]

billy antis: “but but but!! billy was bullying steve!!”

Meanwhile billy while they were ass naked in the showers:

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask". 

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?' 

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?" 

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential  the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?" 

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged". 

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window. 

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?" 

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?" 

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night. 

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack. 

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb. 

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street. 

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake. 

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything. 

If anything, Eddie has more questions. 

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot. 

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue. 

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?" 

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?" 

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone. 

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him". 

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt". 

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.  

And Wayne would never hurt him. 

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse". 

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…" 

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?" 

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday". 

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos. 

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end. 

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again. 

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!" 

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers. 

"Dustin?" 

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

[sadhours]

Bully - Part 3 of 3

warnings: 18+ minors dni, this is practically all smut, inexperienced reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, losing virginity, p in v, unprotected sex, controlling parents, I think that’s it.

taglist: @bbyhargrove @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @shamidreamer @180-fuck-me @rosey96 @hargrovesswifee @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @amberpanda99

Fussing over yourself in the mirror, you worry that your dress looks like a nightgown. It’s a white satin, tight in the chest but once it meets your waist it flows down mid thigh. You believe your mother was under the impression it is a nightgown and that’s why it was an approved purchase. However, out of all your clothes, you really like how this looks on your body the most. You pair it with knee high socks and a pink cardigan. You’d just finished your make up and hair, matching your eyeshadow to the cardigan and putting on an obscene amount of lip gloss.

You worry you’re jumping into the deep end before getting your toes wet. You’ve never held hands or kissed a boy yet here you are, determined to lose your virginity to Billy Hargrove. Partly, to get it over with but mostly, because he made your entire body ignite whenever you thought about him. You glance over at the clock, it’s nearing eight and you think you hear Billy’s Camaro in the distance so you put your shoes on and grab your purse, hooking it around your shoulder. You double check your bed, standing at a few different angles to make sure the clothes and stuffed animals shoved under the duvet resemble your sleeping body. Then, you turn the lamp off and carefully crawl out of your window. It’s awkward to do and you’re naturally clumsy but you manage to land on the ground without making too much noise. You slowly pull the window back down and duck under it, staying still as you perk your ears up, trying to hear if you’ve already been caught.

After you’re sure your parents haven’t roused from their room, you slowly creep your way along the back of the house and hop over the waist high fence. Once you hit the sidewalk, you see the blue Camaro parked six houses down with the headlights off. Your inclination is to run but you don’t want to seem too eager, so you walk slowly. You pull open the door and ease into the passenger seat, turning to see Billy dressed in a dark green button up, his chest exposed and you notice his gold necklace on display as always. You wonder if he ever takes it off.

“Hi,” you greet him shyly, pushing your hair behind your ear and Billy leans over to hook a finger into the top of your knee high sock.

Biting his lip, he drawls out, “You look sexy.”

Your cheeks heat up and you look down bashfully, twirling your hair in between your fingers. Billy tugs on your sock and smirks up at you. Panic starts to rise up your chest, worried that your mother is going to come running down the street.

“Can we go?” you ask, glancing back to your house.

Billy chuckles, “I forgot I’m sneaking you out.”

He turns the car on, shifting into gear and whipping it around. Billy speeds, you look over and see he’s pushing 50 and the speed limit on your street is 20. You yelp, reaching over to grasp at his bicep and squeeze your eyes shut. Billy lets out his signature laugh and presses his foot on the acceleration further, definitely getting up to 65. When he finally slows down to turn, you let out the breath you were holding in heavy pants. Billy feels his dick twitch from the way you sound, he moves his hand from the gear shift to your thigh and squeezes and a high pitched sound leaves your throat. You’ve never heard anything like it come from you. The feeling you get is overwhelming, not having been touched that way before. It’s like you have to pee really bad but it’s different, somehow.

“You’re gonna be loud,” Billy exhales, shifting in his seat.

“What?” you question, squeezing your thighs tightly together.

He doesn’t clarify, he just laughs again. You look out the window, looking at him is just making that peeing feeling worse and worse. When you recognize the businesses lining the streets, it’s clear where Billy is taking you. Your heart swells when you realize he’s actually taking you on a date.

“Are we going to the movies?”

Billy shrugs, “Maybe.”

But you are, he parks on the street and hurries to open the door for you. He takes your hand and closes the door behind you. You see a couple kids you recognize from school loitering outside and you assume Billy is going to drop your hand. He does, only to wrap his arm around your shoulder as he walks with you. He nods to the kids but you avert your eyes, feeling shameful in the outfit you’ve chosen yet feeling special that Billy has chosen you.

“Two for the Jason movie,” he says to Robin Buckley, one of the few people at school who actually treated you like a human being.

She looks wide-eyed at you with Billy’s arm wrapped around you but cheerily says, “Two tickets for Friday The 13th Part 2. Seven dollars and ten cents, please.”

Billy drops his arm to reach for his wallet, trading Robin the money for the tickets. Once you get inside, his arms around your waist and he leans into ask, “You want some popcorn or something?”

The thought of eating in front of Billy makes your stomach churn so you shake your head, “I’m okay.”

He guides you towards concessions anyhow, “We can share a soda, at least.”

You giggle, walking up to the counter and he points to the selection, “Which one?”

“Cherry coke,” you answer meekly.

“One large Cherry coke,” he tells the employee as he pulls his wallet out again, handing him a bill.

When the guy slides the cup across the counter, Billy hands it to you and as you walk towards the theatre, he rests his hand on your ass and you cannot help but let out a soft sound. Billy laughs lowly in your ear and you worry he might have to carry you the rest of the way. Shockingly, the theatre is empty and the trailers have already started. Billy still chooses seats that are tucked in a corner, figuring it’ll fill out soon. He has you sat next to the wall and you look at him curiously, these definitely aren’t the best seats. You know your neck will hurt from this angle but Billy doesn’t plan on you two watching the movie anyways.

He wraps his arm around the seat, letting his hand fall onto your shoulder and leans close to you.

“Do you like scary movies?” he asks, voice low but his mouth is so close to your ear.

Your mother hasn’t let you watch any, so you don’t know. You feel embarrassed to admit it but you do.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one,” you whisper, watching as Billy’s face erupts in shock.

“So do your parents just keep you in a basement when you’re not at school?” he questions and his tone is playful but it’s not far from the truth.

You blush, smiling as you tell him, “They’re very protective.”

At home, your mother lets you watch an hour of TV a day but she has to watch it with you and pick what you watch so most days, you chose to read alone in your room. When you do get to see new movies, it’s only movies made for kids.

“Clearly,” he scoffs, “If you get scared, I’m right here. I’ll distract you.”

The promise makes your heart flutter and your stomach warm. You’d snuck a Steven King novel once and you thought you handled it well, so you hoped you would be fine during the movie. He reaches his left hand over and grabs yours, lacing your fingers. Billy tilts his head to look at you and the feeling between your legs returns. The movie opens and Billy looks around to see the theatre is still empty. He smiles, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. He leans over to kiss you and he expects you to follow his lead but instead you let out a shaky breath and keep your eyes glued to the screen.

“Have you ever kissed someone before?” he asks, but he figures he knows the answer.

Embarrassment flooding your senses, you shake your head, “I’ve never even held hands with a boy until right now.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Panic, now, you turn to look at him, “I don’t know how.”

Billy chuckles, bringing his hand up to caress your jaw, “It’s natural, you’ll get the hang of it quickly. It’s what we’re meant to do.”

“You and I?”

“Men and women,” he mumbles, “It feels really good. You wanna try it?”

“Okay,” you whisper, wanting it more than anything even though you’re equally as terrified.

Billy starts out slow, turns his whole body as he pulls you closer. You see as his tilts his head and you figure, that’s what you’re supposed to do so you do the same. He chuckles and shakes his head, making you second guess this whole kissing thing. You’re horrible at it and you haven’t even done it yet.

“This way,” he tilts your head in the opposite direction he’s tilted his.

“Just like this,” he mumbles before he leans closer as he pulls you towards him. He gently presses his lips to yours, moving them slightly and then pulling back. Your fingers dart up to ghost along where his warm, soft lips touched yours.

“Can we do it again?” you ask, eagerly.

Billy chuckles again and at first, you didn’t like it but the more he does it the more it makes you feel good. At least he’s having fun.

He leans in again, colliding your lips harder than the first time. Billy scolds himself in his head, he knows he needs to take this slow but he wants to shove his tongue into your mouth so desperately, wants to completely ravish you right here, right now. The sound you emit only fuels his desire, he wants to feel you all over.

You two keep kissing like that, Billy is careful not to slip you his tongue yet. It’s a line of soft pecks, your hands grip his shirt tighter and tighter each kiss. You feel dizzy already but Billy seems antsy and you know there’s more to kissing than just this, you’ve seen a fair share of couples in the school hallways with their tongues down each others throats.

Pulling back, you tell him, “You can do more.”

He nods, grabbing onto your cheeks and pulling you to his lips again. He slowly licks against your bottom lip, expecting you to part your lips but you’re frozen, the sensation of his tongue against you incredibly overwhelming.

You feel as he smiles, “Open your mouth.”

Dropping your jaw open, Billy laughs softly and knocks his nose against yours, “Not that much.”

You’re sure your cheeks are bright red, but Billy’s a good teacher. You can tell he doesn’t want to stop even though you have no clue what you’re doing. You lessen the distance between your lips and Billy’s hand on your jaw guides it just right. He’s ecstatic, he’s never had to teach someone how to kiss and he’s floored by how arousing it is. He licks into your mouth and can’t help but squeeze your jaw when you moan softly. This is the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced, you feel as if your core is on fire and the wetness seeping from you is brand new. He was right, this feels so good. You want to feel his tongue all over your body. Squirming a tiny bit, you know that you also need to do something with your tongue so you hesitantly rub it against his and you feel his lips curls up. You’re flushed with confidence while Billy’s a bit concerned, he’s never been this turned on in his life and he fears he’s going to cum in his jeans just from kissing you. He continues though, licking into your mouth but retreating every so often to kiss your lips. After a good minute, he pulls away and you’re both panting.

“How’d you like it?” he’s desperate to know, eyes scanning over your flushed face.

“More,” you whisper, grabbing onto his shirt. Your stomach is in coils, you feel like you’re about to burst and the feeling is frustrating. You wonder when you’ll get some type of relief, that part has to come soon otherwise you’re not sure why people do this in the first place.

“Anything you want, baby,” he growls, pulling you to him for another kiss.

Billy cannot hold back anymore, though. He knows he’s being sloppy but you’ve got nothing to compare it to and that gets him going. You keep letting out these sounds, they’re driving him mad. Once he finally pulls away, you’re shaking.

“I feel weird,” you admit, squirming in your seat.

“Like you’re gonna explode?” he offers and you nod vigorously, he explained it perfectly and you’re relieved he knows what you’re talking about and that maybe he’s feeling the same way.

“There’s a way to help that,” he explains, “But I don’t know if you’re ready.”

“Please,” you beg, anxious to subside this ache.

Billy bites his lip, “I can touch you. Between your legs.”

You giggle, excitement bubbling up. Your mom had told you that only boys get pleasure from this kind of stuff but now you know she’s lying. All you want is for Billy to keep making you feel good.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you murmur, already spreading your thighs.

Billy doesn’t hesitate, he smoothes his hand over your thigh and then squeezes it and you moan out. He panics a bit, “Think you can be quiet?”

“I’ll try, I’m sorry,” you apologize, ashamed.

“Don’t be sorry,” he grins, “It’s really fucking sexy, but we’ll get caught.”

You nod, urging yourself to be as silent as possible but once his fingers press against your clothed core, you let out another moan. He bites his lip, pulling his hand away.

“I know what we can do,” he whispers, standing up and reaching for your hand.

You follow his lead and once you make it to the hallway, he wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Keep walking, need you to be in front of me,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear.

It’s an odd request, but as you’re walking, you can feel his erection pressing against your butt and you understand. You don’t know where to walk though so once you’re in the lobby, you stand still and Billy laughs softly.

“My car,” he sings into your ear, springing your feet back into action. He moves away from you only to rush to the drivers side and get in. You do the same, sitting back on the seat and looking at him. You’re worried you’d ruined the date but Billy seems happier than usual. He starts the car up and throws it into drive, flooring down the road. He keeps looking over at you, similarly to how he would at school but there’s something a little more urgent in his eyes.

“Where are we going?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Billy smirks, “Somewhere you won’t have to try to be quiet.”

You don’t expect that to mean a stretch of road outside of town, lined with forest. However, you’d let Billy take you anywhere if he’s going to touch you like he did in the empty theatre. After he parks, he crawls into the backseat and looks at you expectantly. You turn to face him but remain seated in the passenger side.

“C’mere,” he purrs, patting the leather seat next to him.

With a curt nod, you awkwardly maneuver over the center console and plop down next to him in the back. He looks you in your eyes, placing his hand on your cheek and leans in to kiss you again. Billy doesn’t go slow this time, he erection still straining in his jeans while he slides his tongue past your lips. You feel like your body is vibrating, made worse when he moves his hand down between your thighs and pushes them apart.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he inquires, dragging his fingers up and down your soaked panties.

You gasp, gripping onto his shoulder in attempts to ground yourself. The question he asks completely misses you as all you can focus on is the firm pressure of his fingers. He nudges his nose against yours, finding a spot that makes your body jolt when he rubs against it.

“Have you?” he asks again, pulling back to look at your face.

Your mouth feels so dry suddenly but you try to answer him anyhow, “Not really. Sometimes I touch down there but it doesn’t feel like this.”

He grins, he almost looks wolffish as he shows his teeth. He still looks very pretty, though. You really like the curl of his eyelashes.

“Why don’t we get your underwear off?” he suggests, hooking his fingers into the waistband.

“Uh,” you panic, looking up into his blue eyes.

“It’ll feel even better,” he promises, waiting for you to say yes.

His smile helps your decision, “Okay!”

“Atta girl,” he praises with a kiss to your lips as he pulls your panties down your thighs and knees. You help him by kicking them the rest of the way off, eyes trained on his. He licks his lips as he gets a view of your pretty pussy, returning his fingers to slide through the dripping folds.

He was right, you can’t help the sounds flowing out of your lips. You keep your hand on his shoulder, like you’ll float away if you don’t. Billy nudges his nose against yours, smiling at you when you look at him.

“How’s this?” he drawls, his voice thick as it meets your ears.

You’re in heaven, you think. Your mom had been wrong all along, if this is what boys wanted then you’ve been missing out for so long. There’s nothing selfish about Billy’s hands, it’s very clear that this is all for you and you only. You feel like you’re a fragile piece of glass and only Billy know’s how to handle you.

“Nice, it’s nice,” you pant out, moving your fingers up to grab at Billy’s hair when he circles his finger along your entrance. A strangled moan erupts from your throat as he slides the finger inside you, the sound embarrasses you but Billy seemed to enjoy it, his mouth forming into an open, impressed smile. He moves his thumb to your clit, moving it in rapid circles and your vision begins to blur as you melt back against the seat, eyes fluttering shut as the pressure building in your stomach starts to rise.

“A-ah, Billy, I,” you try to tell him how overwhelming the feeling is but you figure this is supposed to happen, you’re supposed to feel like you’re going to combust.

Billy manages to slip a second finger into your tight hole, his free hand moving up under your dress to squeeze your breast. When he curls his fingers, a cry leaves your lips as you shake beneath him, your entire body feeling on fire as your orgasm rips through you. You chant his name out, your legs snapping shut and trapping his hand between them. Billy laughs softly, moving his hand from your breast to cup your jaw and pulls you into another heated kiss. You feel ridiculous, unable to keep yourself from whimpering as the aftershocks of your orgasm rip through you. Billy smiles into the kiss before breaking away, pulling his hand away from your core and then brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. It heats you up all over again, you smile shyly at him.

“How’d you like that?” he asks, pulling your underwear back up your legs.

“Hmm,” you feel like you’ve lost your voice, so you clear your throat before answering, “I liked it a lot.”

“Good,” he smiles, tucking your hair behind your ear and you wonder what comes next, how Billy’s going to take your virginity.

“What do we do next?” you ask, looking at the bulge in his denim.

Billy coos, “Aw, baby, you want more already?”

You nod and he smirks, “Nothing tonight. We gotta take it kind of slow, I don’t wanna break you.”

“Break me?” you ask softly, holding onto his wrists because you fear you might start crying if he goes anywhere.

Billy laughs again and leans in to place another kiss on your lips, this one is sweet though. “Not the right word choice. It might be overwhelming. Let’s just take our time with it,” he says. It’s not something he’s done before then again, Billy’s never been with a virgin and he doesn’t want to fuck things up. He really likes you and while it’s purely sexual, he thinks he might like to actually date you.

-

For weeks, you continue to sneak out to meet Billy. You still haven’t seen or touched him where you want to most but every time, he fingers you and kisses you just like the first night. Sometimes you actually go on dates but mostly, he drives somewhere to hide you both from watchful eyes. Today, however, he’s asked if you’d come to his house to help him study. In the day time.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to,” you admit, trying your best to think of a way to lie to your mom.

“Just make up an excuse,” Billy suggests, curling your hair around his finger while he looks down at you.

Billy no longer hid his feelings for you from anyone. He still bullied you but it was because you admitted to him you liked it. Granted when you did, he was whispering filthy things in your when he was pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy and you’d say anything to make sure he didn’t stop. You’d replay his words in your head when you were alone at night, trying to make your fingers feel as good as his. You would climax but it was no where as hard as when he did it.

“Like what?” you ask, hoping he could find a good enough one to get past your mom.

Billy grins, “Tell her you’re trying out for something or you joined a club.”

You know those won’t work, your mom was too involved in your school life that she would be suspicious. You shake your head and sigh, “I’m sorry. She’ll say no.”

Billy pouts, “Please.”

He wanted so desperately to get you on his bed, it was fun in the backseat of his Camaro but it was cramped.

It’s hard to say no to him but you can’t imagine a scenario in which your mother would allow you to stay after school. Part of you wants to say screw it and just go with Billy but you know she’ll call the police. You two needed to plan it better.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, your stomach churning as you read the disappointment on his face.

Billy frowns, “How about this weekend? Saturday? Any time from 9-5?”

You giggle, flattered at how eager Billy is to ‘study’ with you. “Saturday. I could say I need to go to the library.”

“I’ll pick you up there,” Billy kisses your cheek before he heads off to class.

The thing is, Billy isn’t anticipating your mom following behind you into the library. He’s parked outside, leaning against the hood of his Camaro smoking a cigarette when your mother parks a few cars down and you shoot him a sympathetic look, a silent apology. His plan is yet again foiled and he’s fuming but he can’t just drive away like you want him to. He waits a beat and heads inside the library, scanning around until he sees you sitting at a table, alone with your books spread out in front of you. He stalks over and plops down in the seat next to you.

“Billy!” you exclaim and then immediately lower your voice, “My mom is here. She wouldn’t let me go alone. You have to leave before she sees you.”

Billy grins, placing his hand on your thigh and squeezing, “I had to see you.”

You love the way his fingers digging into your flesh makes your whole body tingle so you melt into it a bit, your breath hitching up into your throat. He leans close to your ear and whispers, “Let’s study.”

Billy’s fingers inch up your thigh, grazing your clothed core. Your eyebrows shoot up as your eyes widen, but Billy notices the way your pupils dilate so he continues stroking you through your pants.

“We can’t,” you mutter, “Not here. We’ll get caught.”

“Only if you can’t keep quiet,” he whispers back, biting his lower lip.

You gasp as he applies more pressure, focusing your eyes on the textbook splayed in front of you. You’re torn, you want Billy to stop but at the same time, it feels amazing and you find yourself getting excited at doing this in public.

“I can’t keep quiet,” you breathe, and Billy knows this is true.

“Who are you?” your mothers harsh voice whispers as she stomps over to the table. Billy’s hand retreats and he grins up at your mother, flashing his pearly whites. You know this is bad, Billy is too pretty and your mom told you good-looking boys are trouble.

“I’m Billy,” he extends his hand to her, “Y/n’s classmate. Nice to meet you.”

Your mother doesn’t take his hand, instead she starts gathering your books and stacking them.

“We’re leaving,” she tells you, her seething voice makes Billy’s smile falter. He was always so good with mothers.

You nod, grabbing your backpack and shoving your books into it. You follow her to the counter to check out her books, not turning to look at Billy as he remains seated at the table.

In the car, she begins ranting at you. It’s nothing new, but her tone is a bit more frightening. You’d never had a boy interested in you before so your mother is more terrified than she’s ever been.

“You are not to talk to that boy,” she instructs you, “They only want one thing and he is no exception, no matter how nice he is to you, he is not different.”

You just nod, looking out the window.

“Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you recite, “I don’t talk to him. We just have a class together.”

“Is that the boy you were wearing makeup for?” she asks, not believing you.

“I wasn’t wearing makeup for a boy,” you promise.

-

Billy’s at your locker the following Monday morning, a new plan formulated. He knows it will take some convincing but you won’t have any interruptions and that’s what he wants.

“Ditch class with me,” he pleads, grabbing your wrist as you reach for the dial on your locker.

“I can’t,” you tell him, an incredulous look on your face, “I’ve never skipped class before.”

“Please?” he brings your hand to his mouth and presses kisses against your knuckles, “for me?”

You heave a sigh, loving when he touches you but you’re scared. You know the school will call home tonight if you skip class. Maybe there was a way to intercept it, answer it before your parents do.

“Where are we going?” you ask, uncertainty still etched on your features.

“My house,” he says, smirking down at you, “No one’s home.”

Oh. Billy wants to do this, now. You slowly turn and nod to him, wanting to please him any way you can.

“Okay,” you reply, your cheeks stained red.

He smiles even bigger, taking your hand and tugging you through the halls.

Billy’s bedroom is interesting. It stinks like cigarettes and he’s messier than you thought, clothes strewn about. He has music posters of bands you’re not allowed to listen to and one of a lady in a zebra print bikini. You don’t resemble her in any way and wonder why Billy is interested in you and not a woman like her.

He closes his bedroom door and kisses you, walking you back until your legs hit his bed and you fall back on it. You look up at him, watching as he lowers to his knees before you. He hikes your knee length skirt up and starts kissing, from your knees to your upper thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes trained on yours.

All the stress about ditching school fades away as you look down at him. He looks angelic and you think there’s no way this could be bad. Not with the way he makes you feel like everything will be alright. He grins against your thigh as you let out a high pitched noise, foreign to your ears. You’re not sure why but sometimes when Billy compliments you, you make weird noises.

“Can I show you something?” he asks, lips dragging against the warm skin of your thighs.

“Yes, please,” you reply with a pant. The feeling of his mouth so close to your core makes you feel elated beyond belief.

He unbuttons the side of your skirt, inching it off your legs. He leans back and starts to untie your shoes, pulling them off so your left in your blouse, underwear and socks. Billy’s pulling your panties off soon after, discarding them carefully next to your skirt. He wraps his hand under your thighs and tugs you closer to his mouth, spreading your legs as he does so. His eyes sparkle up at you and then he sticks his tongue out and your hands grip the bedspread in anticipation. When his tongue meets your aching heat, you fall onto your back and moan out. This feeling is extraordinary and you are immensely thankful Billy wanted to show you this. He moves his hand from your thigh to grab your hand and guide it to his head. At first, you just keep your hand awkwardly on his head but when he sucks your clit into his mouth, you grab at his curls and whimper.

This is ten million times better than his fingers and you can feel the familiar pressure building quicker than ever before. Your other hand knots into his hair while Billy drags his tongue through your folds and initially you’re upset he’s moved away from your clit but then his tongue starts probing your entrance and you let out another loud moan.

“Oh, Billy!”

He moans against your core, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout you. You prop your elbow up so you can look down at him, your eyes meeting as he starts lapping at your clit. You come quick, as soon as Billy moves to slide two fingers inside you easily. You shake around them, crying out his name repeatedly while your orgasm rips through you relentlessly. But Billy doesn’t pull away, he keeps curling his fingers and licking against your clit until you’re pushing his face away.

“Billy, Billy,” you pant out, “S’too much. I can’t…”

He chuckles, pressing kisses against your thigh as he sits back.

“You taste so good,” he praises, wrapping his hands around your calves.

“Feels so good,” you reply, breathlessly.

He stands up, grabbing a hold of your face and kissing you deeply. You can taste and smell your slick, it’s all over his mouth and chin. It’s not unpleasant but you wouldn’t say it tastes good. He pulls away and smiles at you, his eyes are darker than usual and you lean forward to kiss him again.

“You want to touch me, now?” he asks and you nod enthusiastically.

You still hadn’t seen or touched Billy’s cock but you’ve desperately wanted to. You want to learn how to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

“Yeah?” he bites his lip and pushes your messy hair off your forehead.

“Yes, yes!”

He lounges back against his pillows and motions for you to follow. You sit on your knees beside him and wait for him to take his pants off. Billy unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops. He’s going too slow so you reach your hands over and begin unbuttoning his jeans. He hums happily, letting you take the lead. You pulls his jeans down his thighs and he kicks them the rest of the way off, you can see the outline of his length in his white briefs and a small wet spot which intrigues you. You had no idea guys get wet too. You bite your lip nervously as you slide your fingers into the waistband and pull his underwear off. His erection springs out and slaps against his stomach, a gasp leaves your lips as your eyes take him in. You’ve got nothing to compare it to but you like how it looks, you wrap your fingers around it and look up at his face to see his reaction.

Billy let’s out a breath, his lips curling up as he watches your hand. “Tighter,” he instructs you and let’s out a throaty hum as you obey him.

“Yeah, like that,” he whines out, the pitch of his voice something you’ve never heard and you love it. It shoots straight to your core and you feel yourself soaking your thighs.

“Spit in your hand,” he says and you look up at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Feels better wet,” he grunts out and you let go to bring your palm to your mouth. His eyes follow so you avert yours, feeling embarrassed as you gather all the spit in your mouth and push it past your lips into your hand.

“Atta girl,” he praises, his voice low and deep.

You wrap your fingers around his cock again and look back up at him for further instruction. He places his hand on yours and shows you what to do, how to stroke him. He lets out a soft moan and pulls his hand away. You mimic the motions he’s shown you, making sure you’re not holding him too loosely. Your curious how his face looks while you’re doing this but you feel entranced by the view of your tiny hand wrapped around his length. It’s making you squirm where you sit, wanting to feel some relief. Billy seems to notice because he pats his thigh.

“Sit here,” he suggests and you listen, placing your knee on the other side and lowering your aching core flush with his thick thigh.

You continue stroking him, grinding down against his thigh as you do so. Moans tumble out of your mouth as you watch your hand working him.

“Faster, baby,” he encourages and you move your hand a little faster, glancing up to his face. He looks blissful, mouth agape as he watches you jerk him off while you writhe against his thigh. He scrunches his nose and you let out a little giggle because it’s so cute.

He smiles, “What’s so funny?”

“You look cute,” you tell him, accidentally curving your hand on the upstroke and Billy lets out a moan.

“Fuck, keep doing it like that.”

You nod, smiling as you bite your lip and repeating the motion. Your clit drags against his thigh in just the right way and you whimper, your upper body leaning forward.

“Such a good girl,” Billy whispers, hand grabbing onto your thigh, “Are you my good girl?”

You nod frantically, “Yes, I’m your good girl, Billy.”

“So good,” he moans, “gonna make me cum, already.”

Remembering how good Billy’s tongue felt on you, you lean forward and experimentally lick his tip.

He groans loudly, “Yeah, baby, such a quick learner.”

You smile at the praise, proud of yourself for doing so well. Billy’s fingers knot into your hair and he keeps letting out these pretty little whines that make you grind against him harder. Since it worked so well the first time, you keep up your pace with your hand and lick all around the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he sits up, “I’m gonna cum. Lay down.”

You obey, laying on your back and watching as he straddles your waist, pushing your blouse up above your tits while he relentlessly strokes himself with his right hand until he’s spilling all over your hips and bare stomach. Intrigued, you press your hand to it and pull away to see white strings connecting your palm and belly.

“It’s kinda gross,” Billy admits, chuckling softly as he moves off the bed and grabs a t-shirt from his dirty laundry and cleans his cum off your stomach and hand. He presses a chaste kiss against your lips and smiles.

“You did so good for me,” he nudges his nose against yours, “Did you have fun?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I wanna do it again.”

“Soon,” he kisses you again, “Let’s get you back to school for now.”

-

“Do you wanna come over to my house on Sunday?” you ask Billy the following Friday.

He smiles at you, wrapping his hand around your hip and pulls you close to him.

“Your house?” he asks inquisitively, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” you nod, “My parents go to church from 8 until 1. I’ll pretend I’m not feeling well and you can come over.”

“What are we gonna do?” he teases, smirking as your cheeks turns a deep red shade.

You hide your face against his chest as you giggle, grabbing onto his jacket. He pulls you back so he can look at your face, palm flush against your cheek.

“We’re gonna have fun,” you inform him.

“Sounds like a plan, loser,” he smirks before placing a kiss on your lips, lacing your fingers as he walks you to class.

Saturday night, you don’t sleep well because you’re dripping with excitement. So when the next morning rolls around, you look exhausted and your mom notices when she comes to wake you up. You whine and roll over away from her.

“I don’t feel well, mom,” you admit, hiding your face from her so she can’t see the smile you’re unable to hold back. “Can I stay home and sleep in?”

“You want me and Daddy to stay back to take care of you?” she asks, rubbing soothing circles in your back.

“No, I’ll be okay by myself. I don’t want you guys to miss the sermon,” you mumble, rolling onto your back as you will your face to keep your secret.

“Okay, honey,” she says, “We’ll stop on the way back and get you some soup.”

“Okay, momma, thank you.”

When you’re sure you can hear their car leaving the garage, you spring up and run to your closet to change into one of your outfits you keep hidden. You forego wearing bra and panties, pulling your prettiest lace blouse on and a short black skirt. You pull on a pair of thigh high socks so you don’t feel quite as exposed. Next you sit at your vanity and style your hair carefully, smiling proudly when it lays the way you want it to. You put on some light makeup and hide the products back in the drawer, covering them with notebooks. As you admire your work, you hear the familiar purr of Billy’s Camaro barreling down the street. You rush to the foyer and peek out the window to see Billy parking several houses down. He climbs out of the car, looking casual in a t-shirt and jeans. As he walks up the walkway, you open the door and smile excitedly at him.

“Hey, darling,” he greets you, “Don’t you look cute today.”

“Hi, Billy!” you chirp, extending your hand and once he grabs it, you pull him inside and close the door. You don’t want any neighbors seeing and telling your parents. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into a tight hug, making you squeal as he lifts you off the ground.

He sets you down and kisses your forehead, “Why don’t you show me your room?”

“Okay,” you gush, leading him down the hallway and into your room. Billy looks around, seeing the gaggle of stuffed animals strewn across the floor. Maybe you should’ve cleaned up before he arrived. He purses his lips as he keeps looking around.

“It’s very pink,” he observes and you flush.

“My mom decorated it,” you admit as you shut your door. “Sit,” you suggest, pointing to your unmade bed.

Billy listens, kicking his boots off before he sits back on your bed. You straddle his waist, wrapping your arms around his neck and collide your lips with his. He makes a surprised noise, arms circling your waist as your tongue grazes against his lips. He parts them, allowing you access as his eyes flutter shut. Billy’s shocked you’re making the moves here but he likes it, it shows him you’re just as eager as he is.

You pull away once you’re too flustered, looking into his eyes as you confess, “I wanna have sex.”

“Oh, you do, huh?” he teases, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, smiling wide.

“Well, I can’t say no to you,” he nudges his nose against yours, lifting you off the bed as he stands. Billy turns back around and lays you on your back, resting your head on your pillows. He positions himself between your legs and flips your skirt up, staring down at your exposed and glistening pussy. He gasps softly, eyes flicking back up to yours.

“You little slut,” he exhales, his fingers pressing to your hole and gathering your slick before dragging it up through your folds. “Soaking wet just for me?”

“Yes,” you pant out, squirming from his touch, “Just for you, Billy.”

He grins up at you, moving his left hand to push your top up to confirm his suspicions that you’re also not wearing a bra. He chuckles, bringing his fingers up to his mouth so he can suck your slick off of them. Then, Billy pulls your shirt up and over your head before dragging your skirt off, just leaving you in your socks. Feeling a little too exposed compared to him, your hands cover your tits. He scoots down and lowers his head between your thighs, his hands pushing them apart. You hold his eye contact as he licks a broad stripe up your slit, you let out a soft moan. Even though you’re the only two in the house, you feel like you need to keep quiet.

Billy focuses in on your clit, his tongue drawing circles against it. You whimper, squeezing your breasts as you watch him work. He nods his head slowly, dragging his tongue through your folds as he does so. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue, sparkling as they peer up at you. And he’s so good at this, pulling the sweetest sounds from your throat as he works at your pussy with his expert tongue. When he enters you with his fingers, your back arches and your left hand grabs at his hair.

“Billy,” you whimper, “feels so good…”

You watch his lips curl up from between your legs, it urges you to the edge and you know you’re not going to last much longer. His left hand digs into the flesh of your thigh as he pumps his fingers in and out of your, the obscene sound of how you’re practically pouring into his hand fills the room. You can’t keep your voice down, cries of pleasure bubble out of your throat and Billy doubles down on your clit, lapping at it feverishly. He curls his fingers every time he pulls them out, dragging against your wall. He slips a third one in and you climax instantly, thrashing up against his face while your hand in his hair holds him firm. You grind against his face, riding your orgasm out as you cry his name repeatedly.

He pulls away when you relax, quickly ripping his shirt off and throwing it behind him. His fingers fumble as he tries to unzip his pants, his hard on ready to burst out as he wants nothing more than to bury it in your tight, soaking hole. He worries for a second that he hasn’t stretched you out enough but his overwhelming arousal pushes the thoughts away. He gets his pants off finally, briefs peeling away with them. He positions himself, grabbing onto his cock and presses his tip to your entrance.

“It’s gonna hurt a little bit at first, baby,” he warns you, “but I’m gonna help you through it and then it’s gonna feel so fucking good. Are you ready?”

His words are breathless as they leave his shiny, pink lips and you want nothing more than to be stuffed full of him.

“I’m ready,” you whine, “Please, fuck me, Billy.”

He groans lowly, dragging the head of his cock through your folds to spread your slick across it. You feel as he presses it back against your entrance and he begins to push it in and he was right. It burns as he slides the tip inside and your body freezes, your legs shaking as they threaten to shut. He moves his left hand under your ass and angles your hips up a bit, pushing an inch deeper.

You whimper, this time in pain instead of pleasure. Billy nods at you, “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm… it just burns,” you admit softly.

It’s taking everything in him to not jerk his hips forward and slam in his cock in your tight pussy. He lets out a shaky breath as he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles. It helps, relaxing you enough to where he can push in another couple inches.

“Billy,” you whine.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “As long as we go slow, you’ll be okay.”

He continues stimulating your clit, pulling out a bit before pushing forward again. Slowly, but surely, he bottoms out inside you and once he does, the burning subsides. He leans down to kiss your jaw, making sure you’re comfortable before he rolls his hips gently. The sound that falls from your lips sounds like one of pleasure.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” you pant, “feel so full…”

You’ve heard that sex could hurt, but you didn’t understand until now. However, it was a bearable pain, it wasn’t excruciating. Billy was doing his absolute best to be gentle with you, peppering your face with kisses as he starts thrusting slowly. The more he does it, the better it feels and you relax under him. He grits his teeth at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, you’re so tight he keeps fighting to gain his composure, not wanting to hurt you but his entire body is telling him to fuck you senseless.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asks through clenched teeth, closing his eyes tightly.

“Uh-uh,” you breath, unable to control your hips as they roll up into him. “Keep going…”

He moans out, his pace quickening at the confirmation. He grabs onto your jaw, turning your face to his while he thrusts into you harder. It pulls a grunt out of you but your eyes tell him it feels good.

“Your pussy is so tight, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your cheeks, “you’re such a good girl for me.”

“I’m a good girl,” you babble without thinking, your voice sounds funny with your mouth squished between his fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” he praises, drilling into you faster and harder.

Your spread your legs further apart, staring into his eyes. The feeling is overwhelming and lovely, you want to tell Billy you love him, that you love him but you can’t form words. Instead, short moans and cries fall out of you and Billy’s thrusts falter and he curses himself. He doesn’t want to cum already. You guys just started but the sounds you make and tight your pussy is gripping him is making it increasingly difficult. Your beautiful, doe eyes looking back at him aren’t making it any easier so he ducks his head down and starts licking at your nipple. You moan out, your eyes closing as you lay your head back onto your pillows. Billy moves his hand between your bodies so he can rub at your clit again, his hips rocking into you relentlessly. You’re quickly pushed over the edge, your orgasming crashing into you like a ton of bricks as you scream his name out. Billy let’s you ride it out for a bit before chasing his own, grabbing onto your hips as he drills into you impossibly hard and fast. You keep crying out his name, the sensation of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot over and over is excruciatingly pleasant. Your body thrashes around underneath him and Billy’s hips falter, pushing deep into you as he fills you up before he knows it’s happening. He’d meant to pull out but his own orgasm is abruptly ripped from him and he didn’t have time. He collapses on top of you, a panting mess while he attempts to kiss you.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, squeezing him tightly as you continue to whimper against his open mouth. It’s all ruined too quickly as you hear the front door open and slam shut.

“Honey! We’re home,” you hear your mothers voice.

Billy’s jumping off the bed, you follow suit and usher him to your closet, shoving him inside and grabbing your robe. You close the closet door and throw the robe on. You hop back into the bed and pull the duvet over your body.

“We were too worried about you so we left early,” your mom says as she opens the door.

You feel Billy’s cum leaking out of you and your eyes widen when you realize his clothes and boots are on display on the floor. Your mother notices your makeup first.

“Why are you wearing makeup?” she asks, furiously and then glances down to Billy’s boots sitting next to your bed. “Is there a boy in here?”

You spring out of bed, gathering Billy’s clothes and boots as your mother makes her way to the closet. You’re panicking but you know she’s already found you out. She opens the door wide and is met with a naked Billy, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead while he holds his hands over his junk. You watch in horror as he smiles at your mother.

“Hi,” he says, “I was hoping we’d formally meet before this but…”

You mother interrupts him by yelling your fathers name, “Grab the shotgun!”

Billy’s face falls and you quickly hand him his clothes, eyes telling him to run. He grabs them and books it for the door, down the hallway and out the front door. Your dad stands in the kitchen, watching as the naked boy runs from your room out the front door with his jaw dropped. You figure you’re already a goner so you step outside the door, waving to him as he gets in his car.

“Bye, Billy! See you tomorrow!” you call out and you can see him laughing, shaking his head before he starts up his car and peels out of the neighborhood as fast as he can.

Your mother yanks you inside and slams the door.

“If you think you’re going back to that school, you are sorely mistaken,” she shrieks but you can’t find yourself to care that you’ve upset her. You’d do anything to do that again with Billy.

[floredaqueen]

billy and isa after a huge fight? 👀👀 (love, love, LOVVEEE your art and fics! keep up the great work, baby doll! you’re so fab :))

Hello, helloo!!♡

I love love LOOOOVVVEEE YOU!! And you're so lovely ♡♡ I hope I can do your ask justice (also sorry in advance if it takes me forever to finish but I hope you enjoyy♡>///< ♡♡

BLURB +18

TW: Deals w/Bullying, Heavy Profanity, Billy being a dickhead. Hurt w/Comfort The usual ♡

...

Isa and Billy don't really fight, especially since Isa is very conflict avoidant. She's getting better at that communication, but they rarely ever yell, scream, or say mean things to one another. If they ever did fight, it was probably during the first year they met; their senior year...

The first week of senior year for Isabela was like riding a bike. Easy A's all across the board. The Latina was already climbing the academic totem pole, and now, with all of her extracurriculars, she'd be moving faster and to new heights. She made time for other important tasks, not having much of it for boys or crushes.. that is until she heard about the new boy from Cali.

Rumors were already spreading, and he hasn't even been seen on campus anywhere yet. Just a few greetings on account to the popular girls at school, including her friend - and co-captain of the cheer squad- Nova James.

Still, though, to the intelligent Latina, it was all up to interpretation.. until she saw him strutting in with his denim on denim ensemble. His dirty blonde mullet perfectly quafted, and his ocean blue gaze stared down anyone, whether intentional or not. Her Hersheys chocolate gaze heavied one every perfect aspect he had to offer. His chilled chin was probably a dream to lovingly scratch, his very well-shaped hair, his piercing blue eyes that made her fold into herself, and his beautiful smile. He was all perfect.. too perfect.. which is why she wasn't surprised he turned out to be a complete asshole.

When they first crossed paths, he didn't even acknowledge her, the Cali boy bumping into her and only rolling his eyes in annoyance before brushing her off to the side. That when she knew he was a jerk, even if he was the most beautiful boy she's ever seen.

Later that day, she'd see him a few more times. He was notably in her calculus honors class, looking as confused as one who wasn't ready for this level of comprehension. Out of the corner of her wide eyes, Isabela could Billy trying to get someone's attention... and then he turns to her. He turns to her, whispering, "Hey,"s and "Excuse me,"s until he decides to get her attention by force.

The next thing the fresh-faced senorita knows is she's being hit on the side of the head with a balled up piece of notebook paper. She didn't believe it at first, still trying to process it right as he threw another. The second ball of paper clung to her hair as she turned around to face him, an annoyed expression on her face as she met his eyes.

As "taboo" as Isabela was to Billy, he had to admit that she wasn't half bad looking. In fact, she looked veey sweet with her pouting lip. Her eyes were so full and bright even theough her glasses, like a deer. He found it cute when she very clearly was getting nervous just by the look of him. He knew he could have that effect on people.

Billy smiled with teeth, his eyes setting on her filled out worksheet to note that she one hundred percent knew what she was doing. All of the questions filled out precisely by the slightly timid hispanic. A smart girl too? He knew it's be fun to make her lose her cool.

"What?" Isabela would whisper in annoyance, already wanting this interaction to be over. Of course, quite the opposite happened, Billy dragging on his words as if he was spelling it out for her. top!

"You mind helping me with this assignment? I'm a little lost," He asked, all with a toothy smile. Isa dead panned for a moment, letting herself express a bit of her annoyance with an eyebrow before turning to her own worksheet.

"Clearly," She muttered under her breath before handing him her notes. He looked over them and then stashed them in his notebook on the other side of her desk.

"The hell are you doing??"

"I'm gonna need this if I plan on passing any assignments for this week," Isabela huffed at his snark response as she tried to snatch his folder. Swiftly he moved his things, and her worksheet, away from her grasp.

"Give it back!" She whispered with an annoyed twitch with her upper lip. She even tried to grab at it, Billy quickly gripping her wrist only to throw her hand back in her direction.

"I don't hear that magic word, sweetness," With an eye roll and the crossing of her arms, Isa let it go, hoping she can get it back at least at the end of the day.

...

It'd be like that for the rest of the school year. Isa would be minding her business (and admiring Billy from afar) and the asshole in question would tease her and steal her work if he managed to get his hands on it. As annoying as it was it never got violent.. and it was pretty tame.. until one day.

Isa couldn't shake the feeling of so many eyes on her. She was able to hold her head high, but it felt near impossible today. When she did catch a few guys staring and snickering, she realized it was at her.. was there something on her face? In her hair..? What was their deal??

The hispanic scholar would soon find that out when she was approached by Tommy Hagan. The freckle covered guy was snickering as he walked over, crossing his sweater clad arms as he leaned against the locker beside hers.

"Wheeler, when were you gonna let me in on your dirty little secret..?" He jibed mischievously as Isa attempted to ignore him while retrieving her materials for her next class.

"What are you on about, Hagan..?" She turned to face him, her eyes rolling in response to his snarky grin. He casually shrugged his arms, not-so-subtly cornering her against the metal lockers while simultaneously spilling all of beans to her.

"Well, it seems that a hefty amount of my friends know what's under that pretty skirt of yours.. and I was wondering if I could get in on th-" Before Tommy could even finish his sentence, he was met with a hard slap against his face. It even has him stepping back a bit, giving Isabela ample time to hastily walk away from that conversation.

She knew for a fact he was spouting bullshit.. but it was strange that he had the balls to tell her, so who told him that? Who would even believe it? Whoever it was, she couldn't take for another second someone trying to shit on her perfect reputation and perception of who she really was.

By 6th period, things had only gotten worse, the overwhelmed Isabela finding herself hiding behind the abandoned bleachers that clung to the outskirts of the outdoor basketball court. She was calming herself down, attempting to get lost in one of her favorite Shakespeare fables, wondering if she'd ever find something as tantalizing as this culture phenomenon wrote about instead of having to deal with the likes of these jerks in this podink town..

One of her dainty, delicate hands wiped the tears developing in her eyes from the thought of all the mean and assuming words that were thrown her way today. Isa continued to keep her focus on the pages until she heard a snap of a twig.

The snap was caused by none other than the pretty boy she's been trying steadily to avoid, one of his calloused hands running through dirty blonde curls as the other flicked at his lighter to light the cigarette between his full lips.

She thought quickly.. too quick. She practically scattered as she jumped off the bleachers only to hide behind them on the other side as the rest of possey appeared beside him. The hung out beside on her side, too close to wear she kept herself as hidden as she could.

Their conversation went about as the latina thought it would, overhearing the socialites go on and on about on about their usual. Having or crashing parties, stealing booze from their parents' liquor cabinets, unprotected sex in the most obscene of places.. and girls.. but not just any girls. It was hurt they were joking about..

"Man, Isabela is so damn up tight," Tommy starts with a heavy huff. The side of his face was stilly slightly red from the hearty slap the latina previously gave him.

"The prude acts like she has a stick up her ass every time a guy walks up to her," He jibed, earning a soft giggle from Carol as they both relaxed against the brick wall.

"Only because she's never had dick in her life," She deduced, taking another hit of her tobacco stick.

"Yeah.. because she's boring," Billy finally snorts while crossing his denim covered arms. They both look at him with curious eyes, confused about his knowledge of the mouse that was way closer than they thought she was.

"I dont know about you, but I'm not getting a hardon for someone who's probably going to end up with cats because she doesn't know how to open her legs, "

The other takes, Isa's heard before. They were superficial and petty, especially coming from the two infamous idiots who's never worked for anything. But from Billy? Like an idiot, she thought he'd be above this, but his words hit right on her already racing heart.

"Good point," Tommy nodded, stomping out how own cig as Billy started.

"That's why I spread that rumor about her. Was trying to do her a favor. Maybe she'll actually get laid and get her first taste of dick.." The blonde said matter-of-factly as if she should be thanking him.

"Seems Billy has a soft spot for the prude," Carol would scoff teasingly, her face practically egging him on to prove her wrong. Billy, of course, denies her accusation.

"Nah. You won't ever see me going out with that bitch.."

All of those words.. those mean hurtful words. As much as she promised herself not to let it hurt her, Isa couldn't stop the constant stream of tears going down her cheeks. She tried to remain quiet, but a soft sniff of a breath gave her away.

"Who's there??" The alpha of the pack of wolves called out, his sharp blues finding sorrowful wide does eyes as Isa revealed herself to the group. They all sighed, embarrassed that she just happened to be there to listen to the conversation about her. With the tears still running down her glowing cheeks, they felt a little guilty. Not Billy, though. All Billy could think about was how pretty she looked when she cried. All sweet and innocent, even if they're hope was crushed.

"..you spread those rumors about me..?"

"C'mon, Wheeler- it was a j-"

"You're the reason why guys are following me??? Why everyone is calling me a slut, and how I simplemente no puedo guardarlo en mis pantalones cuando tÚ ERES EL VERDADERO PERRO,"

It was silent for a few seconds after that, the wind the only thing between them before Billy broke the airy stillness with a chuckle.

"You're just upset that I wouldn't waste my time on someone like you.. but," He lazily takes a heavy step forward in her direction.

"If you keep that up..." The way his eyes relaxed gave Isa pause, and then she could feel her body tense as he invaded her space. "..I might throw you a bone,"

Right then and there, she completely tensed, her hand swinging open palm to connect with his face for a hard slap. Neither of them had time to register it as the left side of Billy's face stung.

"You don't know what I could do for you," Isa's voice shook in a shaky whisper, stepping ever closer towards her bully.

"You thinking thay one would get a leg up just by being with you, when you can't even fathom how lucky you'd be to have me. To be with me..." Her sharp eyes stayed on Billy as he scoffed and kept his head held high, obviously not expecting the slightly menacing utterance of her words. For some reason, it was hard to keep a steady eye contact.. The braniac then tilted her head as her brows furrowed.

"..maybe, you wouldn't be so insecure.." was the last thing she said before she turned around and grabbed her things. Billy sucked his teeth, not even realizing that his nails were digging into his own palms.

He watched as everyone around him brushed it off as her being sensitive.. but he knew she was right. And that was something he hated about her. She was always. Fucking. Right.

...

Every other day after, Billy couldn't ignore the heavy weight in his chest. Best believe he tried, using all the usual tricks he had up his denim sleeve. But no matter how much drugs, girls, and bench pressing he did, he knew what he had to do to really get over.

Suddenly, after the usual attempt to mind melt at one of Tommy's parties, he found himself at the Wheeler residence. It was nicer than he anticipated, turning off the loud engine so as not to disturb anyone else.

Isabela was half asleep, cuddling her pillow in nothing but a tank top, mint colored undies, and sunflower socks she had recently bought from the mini market. So, when she heard -and soon saw- rocks being thrown at her window..

Begrudgingly, she got up, her footsteps as light as a feather. Billy annoyingly felt his body slightly perk uo at the sound of the front door unlocking, only to see Isa all tuckered out and peering up at him.

"Good, I got your attention.." He jibed, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets as his sharp blues took her in. Usually, Billy excelled at eye contact.. but this time around, his eyes roamed a lot more than he meant for them to.

Her curls were all messy, her nipples were poking out of her baby tee, and her bottom lip was pouted out. Fuck. Out of all the times to feel something for this girl, this was the worst time.

"What do you want, Hargrove?" She huffed, watching as he slightly awkwardly straightened up.

"I just wanted to.. uh.." He began to trail off, his eyes drifting down to her legs. Billy then only realized how he's never seen them before. They've been hidden by all the loose jeans and maxi skirts she'd wear.

He didn't expect them to be so.. toned. Every smooth curve was built with muscle even though she was known to be light on her feet. Not to mention her huge thighs.

"Yea- okay.." She rolled her eyes, going to close the door in his face only for Billy to swiftly propped his arm up against the hatch.

"I came here to... apologize" There was a long pause after that, the latina blinking a couple of times before parting her lips.

"Well, you're very bad at it," He scoffed, annoyed at her snarky remarks she'd conjure up from every word he spoke.

"Yeah, I've gathered that," He'd pause, letting the air between them fill the silence for a bit as he thought about what to say.

"You didn't deserve what I put you through. It wasn't right, and—" and as he continued to practally ramble, Billy became all the more aware of being under her scrutiny. He could feel her big brown, fatigued eyes studying his every word before her whole demeanor relax.

This.. this whole situation was weird. Why the hell did he feel like this? No girl has ever made him think twice about the words that would flawlessly flow from his kissable lips. And out of all the girls at Hawkins, it was some measly little book worm that had him fumbling.

Isa wasn't doing good either. She was starting to believe him, her mind running through his emotions as he spoke. Billy seemed sincere, but Latina refused to expose her sympathy. Her expression stayed neutral.

By the end of it, the silence between them returned and thickened, Billy cleared his throat before he crossed his strong arms.

"..As much as your apology is appreciated, I don't accept it..." She softly spoke, grabbing the edge of the hatch. As he tried to protest, he was met with a door being shut in his face.

♡♥︎♡...♥︎♡♥︎

[avalonlights]

"Pretty boy like you's got nothing to worry about."

for @billyhargrovebingo | A1: “bad pickup lines” 🙈

[grandwretch]

been thinking a lot about those hcs about steve bullying eddie and i'm pretty sure the math just does not check out on any level

like okay so first of all, steve absolutely would not be bullying someone older than him in his freshman and sophomore years, especially because in the way puberty hits teen boys, there is no way eddie wasn't probably taller and bigger than him in those years.

and like, yeah, he was more of an asshole in his junior year, but he was only a junior for four months before the demogorgon. so that means that everything you want steve to be responsible for vis a vis eddie's trauma has to be within that four months.

it's especially egregious when the only person we actually see steve bully is jonathan, who is a sophomore at the time. a sophomore who kicked steve's ass, btw. which probably means steve wasn't physically bullying seniors and escaping unscathed.

also it seems to be an equally popular trope that steve bullied gareth and gareth hates steve the most out of all eddie's friends, which is like... okay, gareth is, i think, a junior at the time of s4? which means he would have been a freshman in steve's junior year. which, yeah, sets him in steve's prime bullying demographic, but can i just remind everyone that steve wasn't even with that crowd for his entire first semester of junior year?

it seems incredibly unlikely that gareth got bullied by steve personally in fall '83 and then held on to that grudge for the rest of high school, especially after seeing firsthand steve's fall from popularity and then spending almost a whole year in school without him.

[morganbritton132]

based on one of your latest tiktok saga posts:

I'm convinced that when people heard billy hargrove apparently had a crush on steve, a small but dedicated portion of eddie's followers started jokingly stanning billy. the cross section of conspiracy theorists / shitposters absolutely clowns all over eddie's comments with shit like "simping for the man who hit you with his car is king behaviour" and "wow, steve literally ran this guy over and he really just said thank you m'am. pathetic. I'm kissing him on the mouth btw."

I also like to imagine eddie would absolutely loathe this development

Oh my god, this is hilarious and very, very apt for internet culture. People were jokingly stanning Billy and then someone with an old Hawkins High yearbook posts a picture of him, and people realized he was hot then, game over. It’s the worst week of Eddie’s life and he once was on the run for murder, fought an interdimensional slime monster with daddy issues, and died in the same week.

I think Eddie absolutely adores fan art. His studio is lined with art that people have given him and that he’s bought from fans. He was even more over the moon when people started drawing art of him and Steve, but then. Then, these very talented jokesters in his comments are posting fan art of Steve with Billy.

Just imagine the amount of discourse Billy would create on the internet. It’d be worse than the discourse in the ST fandom, because Eddie has never had an opinion that he hasn’t shared. He’d let people know that he hates this. Billy was a bully who harassed him and his friends and liked shitty music.

This would egg people on more, I think, because that’s how the internet works. But Dustin, as president of the Steve Harrington fan club, would not let that slide. He posts a Tiktok like, “Uh, guys. You’re very talent artists and all, but uh. Billy Hargrove tried to kill Steve. He *picture of Steve after Hopper took him to the hospital* beat Steve up really bad and he wouldn’t have stopped if Max didn’t drug him. He ran me and my friends off the road once. And he was racist. He tried to fight Lucas.”

Max also posts. She talks about how hard it was after Billy died and how it nearly killed her, but she also talks about how he wasn’t a good brother, how afraid she was of him, and how he attacked Lucas and attacked Steve for sticking up for them. She doesn’t really want to see him on her FYP.

This leads to so much fighting between people who view Billy as their new white boy of the month and people who are like, why are you retraumatizing that girl in a wheelchair (I imagine post-season 4 Max does have mobility of her legs and walks with a limp or a cane, but sometimes still has to use a wheelchair). It’s just very annoying until the next big scandal happens and people stop talking about it.

[cream0fwheat1998]

Girl from the Band 1 (Yandere!Jason Carver x Band Geek!Reader)

WARNINGS: dark, yandere, non-consensual intimacy (next chapter), maybe death (haven't decided yet), violence

This was random but honestly I think Mason Dye is a very handsome man so I really wanted to make a Jason Fanfic

Alternate AU but still 80's, No upside down fantasy stuff.

(Y/N) held her trumpet at attention while during the anthem which was sung by a previous student that has since graduated. Y/n rolled her eyes; she remembered Tammy Thompson from a science class long ago.

"This girl has no talent, why are they letting her perform?" y/n said under her breath but a laugh to her left caught her attention.

Robin Buckley shook her head with a smile on her face. For some reason, this made y/n feel warm. She was happy that she had made someone smile, even though she barely knew Robin and Robin's group of odd-ball friends outside of band.

How weird that Robin hung out with Steve Harrington; a man that graduated last year but still hang out with high school kids. Y/n shook her head, feeling sour at her own bitchy thoughts. People are allowed to have friends and just because she didn't have any, didn't mean she could judge everyone else for it.

When the game ended, all of the Hawkins Students fled to the courtroom to celebrate with the Basketball team on their win. Specifically, everyone cheered for Lucas Sinclair who'd made the winning shot and even though Y/n wasn't much of a participator; she found herself cheering along with her classmates.

It was until an object bounced infront of her, pulling y/n out of her own daze. A basketball had flown its way to her and one of the players rushed to her to collect it.

Jason Carver was a handsome guy. A classically handsome highschool athlete you'd see in any John Hughes movie. Y/n felt her cheeks warm at the thought of him coming towards her, looking her in the eye. It was an intimate feeling that she wasn't use too. She felt weak not wanting to look him in the eye but felt she lacked the type of beauty he'd want to look at.

"Sorry about that; it's the championship game-ball and we lost it in the celebration." Jason said, grabbing the ball from y/n's feet.

His voice was deep and warm; his damp hair sticking to his moist skin reminded her of a model posing by the sea. He was a dream and she lived in reality.

"It's okay." Y/n said, staring at the ground. She didn't feel like making eye contact.

Jason chuckled while heading back to his team; he'd seen this girl before but had no interest moving forward; his girlfriend was the queen of Hawkins High anyway. Chrissy Cunningham. For some reason, she was nowhere to be seen since the ending of the game.

The following week, Y/n had noticed Jason's demeanor change. Once a confident, prideful man to callous, irritated ass. You'd think he'd be at his best since the big win but instead he's acting like he lost completely. In Jason's perspective; he did.

Chrissy Cunningham had been hand in hand with one of Jason's basketball friends down the hallway. Clearly, they were still in the honey moon stage of their affair. It wasn't an adult kind of affair; Chrissy had broken up with Jason the night of the game for someone who'd swept her off her feet in his absence.

Y/n kept her opinions to herself, even during lunch when the loud whispers from all the lunch room increased at either Jasons or Chrissy's appearance. However, even with an increased attitude Jason kept his cool. He had to; his reputation depended on it. Sure, his first real love tore out his heart and stomped on it on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life; but he considered himself the man of the school. He'd be damned if he didn't hold his head up high and looked for a replacement soon.

If Chrissy could move on within seconds, so could he. He felt himself getting heated; looking at the other girls in the school. While they werent Chrissy, he knew he could find someone to love him just as much. There were 2 obstacles;

There was only 1 Chrissy Cunningham.

He'd have to pick someone who respected his position as top-dog but it seemed like most of the girls in school were laughing at him now.

It was Study Hall. Y/n had been planning out an idea. She didn't want to graduate this year without doing something new and had been researching DnD for the past few months. There was a Dnd club called Hellfire ran by an eccentric classmate of hers' Eddie Munson. Yeah he was cute too. But Y/n didn't WANT to think about that; she just wanted to do what she wants and then graduate. Don't cause attention, don't put yourself out there. Those were her rules.

However; it wasn't up to her to not stand out as Jason Carver had remembered her genuine shyness from gameday. It was cute and honest. So many girls in school pretend to be cool or bitchy to seem higher class without realizing that they were just unpleasant rather than interesting.

Looking at her, Jason really believed there was something there and was determined to make her his arm piece for the rest of the year. In the deepest parts of his mind he decided y/n had no choice.

part 2

[wh0lemilk0vich]

Another dynamic I also love is fat curvy babygirl sub Steve and bully muscle dom Billy and nympho perv chaser skinny eddie

Like maybe that's really what their dynamic is.

Idk I'm a little crossfaded but Stevie in little short shorts with his ass hanging out like they're panties, and his belly covering the fronts, and in a crop top with his perky little tits showing some underboob, and his hair half up in a ponytail, like I'm gagging for it. And Eddie is so horny for Steve and just like the epitome of a chubby chaser but he's so hot it's almost endearing. Like even peters from the carnival season of ahs. And billy is always my str8 boy bully who's like "if it got tits like a bitch, curves like a bitch, big ass like a bitch, and hips and belly like a bitch, that's a bitch and if I fuck him it's not even really that gay" but sooooo attracted to how Steve looks and how readily Steve just gives into him.

[biillys]

billy hargrove: in every scene — 2.03 chapter three: the pollywog

[toobusybeingdelulu]

do you ever stop and think about the fact that billy had been so difficult to control during the possession that it pissed vecna off?

‘much braver than your brother’ yeah just say you are bitter over the fact that a 18-year-old had, on the contrary, balls of steel and managed to stop you from reaching your ultimate goal: Eleven

[bottombillyapologist]

My opinion on billy hargrove as a character is so complicated but I think I can boil is down as: he is one of the few realistic interpretations of an imperfect abuse victim where his actions make you uncomfortable and it can be generally agreed he doesn’t take Good actions, but even just the slightest bit of thinking can make you understand why he does what he does. Why it makes sense to him.

You can look at him and go “I empathize with you, I understand you, I could’ve been you if I didn’t have a support system” or even “I WAS you” or “I AM you” and I think the reason he is so controversially liked/disliked is there is some inherent belief that somehow despite the way you were raised, you’re supposed to just inherently know what’s right and wrong. And yeah, once you’re in recovery you tend to learn what’s right and wrong, but nowhere in Billy’s story does anyone ever tell him the way he’s being treated is wrong. No one tells him the actions he’s taking because of it are wrong. Or on the other hand, he is punished so universally for his behavior it is hard to discern when his actions are actually wrong, or if he’s being treated unfairly. He is never shown empathy or understanding until quite literally, the moment he dies.

The message of his story is that when you are isolated, abused, and angry, no one tries to help you until it’s already too late. So yeah, I think anyone can dislike a character for any reason they want, but writing him off as an abusive racist when the quite literally Point Of His Character is “this is what can happen to a person when they are never given kindness/empathy/support and it warps their morals and actions to be violent and/or prejudiced” is just. Wrong. Especially when that includes attacking people who empathize with his character.

Regardless of if you like it or not, there are real people who were like that, are like that, and they deserve love, support, and empathy as much as any “‘perfect’” abuse victim that never perpetuated the cycle. Anger is simply a product of the fear that comes with abuse. Redirecting that anger at others is a learned behavior that comes with coping with that abuse, it’s not right, but you can’t unlearn it unless you’re given a chance to heal. Every abuse victim deserves support and a chance to heal and learn from their past actions and mindsets. Understanding a mindset is not the same thing as condoning it.

So please for the love of god, leave people alone when they write a happy ending for someone they see themselves in.

[schrijverr]

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 1

Chapter 1 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

He befriends Chrissy and grows as thick as thieves with her. Over the summer he adds Robin to his friends as well. Meanwhile Eddie seems to have taken an interest in the fallen king, but Steve can’t figure out quite yet why Eddie is talking with him. Flirting with him?

On AO3.

Ships: eventual steddie & buckingham

Warnings: period typical sexism, period typical homophobia, internalized homophobia, child neglect mention, bullying, f-slur

~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: The Deal

Steve has quit the basketball team after winter break. Before winter break he was technically still on the team, but not allowed to play due to his concussion. Now he is healed enough to get back on the court, but Billy has turned most of the team against him, which makes playing impossible. Hence the quitting.

However, now he has a slot he needs to fill if he wants to make it into college. He can’t join some braniac team, he’s barely scraping by. Going back to swimming also isn’t an option, since the swim team is practically the same as the basketball team and he doesn’t fancy drowning.

He wishes he could just continue playing basketball. That it wasn’t that bad. That he could man up and make it through. But he can’t, he really can’t. He likes his bones in one piece and the doctor said another concussion might be the end of what his brain can take.

So, he sits longingly alongside the court and watches the team train, aching to just have an activity he is good at again. To not feel like such a failure.

A loud and frustrated sigh pulls him from his thoughts and his eyes are pulled to the cheerleaders that are also practicing in the gym. The captain of the cheer team, Molly, throws up her hands and says: “It isn’t gonna work like this.”

“No need to snap,” Heather, one of the other girls, scowls. “Mary can’t help that she’s sick. She’ll be back after the weekend and then we’ll train the whole thing properly.”

“I know that,” Molly snaps. “But it’s throwing everything off and we need to get this routine straight. We can’t afford to have anyone missing.”

“We know,” Heather rolls her eyes, still posed to fight.

Molly sighs and says: “I just need this competition to go well.”

Heather softens at that and places a hand on Molly’s shoulder and smiles: “We’re gonna kill it. Don’t worry too much, Molls. Lets just run it again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Molly smiles, before loudly clapping her hands and getting everyone back into position to go from the top.

Without realizing Steve has ambled closer to the cheerleaders. He startles a little at the loud clap, before watching at the routine starts up again. He has often watched the cheerleaders, they’re at the sides of big games and the team always stared together.

However, he has never really paid any attention to their training. Right now, though, he watches in awe as they toss each other in the air and keep smiling as they tumble about.

Since he is aware of it, he can clearly see where one of the girls is missing. When some of the girls are lifted some shapes are uneven and a few stay on the ground with an annoyed look. Certain formations are also incomplete. At one point one of the girls nearly falls, because someone who is supposed to be there isn’t.

The routine comes to an end and Steve can clearly see Molly, who is on the cusp of breaking down again. In Steve’s opinion it doesn’t look that difficult, well, what seems to be missing that is. It’s just holding someone up. Not like he has to do a back flip.

He hasn’t consciously realized what he’s doing until he’s tapping Molly on the shoulder. She startles and turns, before getting big eyes and smiling softly as she greets: “Hi, Steve.”

While Steve’s popularity has gone down considerably since Billy showed up, he is still well liked under the female student body. He smiles back at her and says: “Hi, Molly. Uhm- This is really stupid.” He rubs the back of his head, suddenly aware of how much he is not allowed to do what he is about to do. “I-” he lets out a breath and decides to go for it. “I heard you talking earlier, about missing someone. Can I help?”

It’s quiet and Steve immediately regrets even looking in their direction.

A boy doesn’t do cheerleading, it’s a girls sport. Barely even a sport. Just a thing they do to look pretty. He has no business being close to it beyond asking a cheerleader out. He has already plummeted vastly in popularity, the last thing he needs is gay rumors floating around. No matter how true they’d be.

He just wants to be helpful, do something he might be able to for a change. But he didn’t think it through and now he’s done something stupid. Like he always does.

Steve is about to take it back, play it off as a joke or just walk away if nothing comes to mind in the next second, when Molly lights up. “That’s perfect!” she grins. “Mary is a base position, which should be easy to teach. Thank you so much.”

Some of the other girls send him some weird looks, but after Molly’s relieved thanks, he doesn’t have the heart to turn away. So, he awkwardly shrugs: “It’s no problem, not like I have anything better to do.”

He is ignored by Molly, who turns around and addresses the others: “Go over parts you’re struggling with for a little. Lisa, Karen, Susan, come here!”

Three girls come their way as the others devolve into doing their own thing. Molly asks him: “Are you warmed up?”

Steve doesn’t think this will be that much effort, so he nods. It’s honestly his mistake, along with staying in his jeans and shirt.

He is shown the proper way to hold up a flyer. He hadn’t even realized before now that there were multiple positions in cheerleading. However, here he is. He is filling in for a base, so he’s holding Karen, the flyer, along with Lisa, the other base. Meanwhile Susan is the back spotter, she is the first to catch Karen should it go wrong. It’s important to catch the flyer properly or one can risk hurting the flyer quite badly.

Within a few minutes Steve gains so much respect for cheerleading, something he and the other guys have always put aside as some easy girly thing.

As he lifts Karen, he can feel her muscles under his hands as she has to keep everything tense as to not loose her balance on just their hands. Lisa is also a lot stronger than she looks, holding half of Karen’s weight along with Steve. He is already sweating through his polo and he definitely can’t keep smiling as he does this.

After a while he is able to get it. Molly is satisfied with his progress and deems it enough to call everyone together again. She says: “Okay, we can’t go through the routine, because Steve doesn’t know it and he isn’t going to learn this quick. So, we’re just going through the pyramids slowly, alright?”

She gets cheers back and instructs Lisa to make sure Steve knows what to do as everyone moves back to position.

Lisa is his saving grace, because Steve can’t keep up with how easily they all shift between position, creating structures out of just their bodies, before flipping down, tumbling around and doing it again.

He hadn’t realized how much mental space it takes to keep track of everyone’s position. He is very impressed with all the cheerleaders and he is genuinely having fun.

Cheerleading is a physical activity that he’s actually quite good at, throwing Karen around with ease and watching her fly. And for once he isn’t being pushed around.

A part of him knows that he shouldn’t be having fun, that he should have never even offered to do it and play it off as trying to get a date if someone asked. But it’s hard to keep the happiness away or not reply to the high five Lisa offers when they pull off a tricky stunt.

So, it’s not until the basketball team takes a break and he is spotted that the pit in his stomach, that he felt when he first offered, returns. He’s holding one of Karen’s legs when he hears Billy sneer: “Look at that, Harrington’s turned from a king into a princess.”

He can’t risk hurting Karen, so he grits his teeth as he hears the rest of his former team snicker. The stunt still needs to be completed, so Steve tries to tune them out as they bounce so Karen gets the height she needs for a flip.

Once she is safely on the ground, Steve looks at his old teammates, who have all collected to laugh at him. His cheeks burn with shame and he looks to the ground. He just wanted to help, do something nice for a change.

A hand on his arm, makes him look up. Lisa is looking at him with a kind and concerned look. She quietly says: “You don’t have to stick around. We get it. Mary will get better and we’ll pick up training Monday again.”

Steve is quite tempted to take her offer. To just run and be a coward, because a coward is better than being tossed for the tigers. Being a coward is better than being a queer.

However, before he can, Molly is speaking up. She overheard what Lisa said and doesn’t want to stop training. She needs Steve there. She crosses her arms and says: “All of you stop laughing right now, or you’re not getting a date from a cheerleader for the rest of the year. Steve was gentleman enough to offer help when we needed it. Maybe take an example.”

That shuts the boys right up. Steve knows what they talk about in the locker room, almost all the boys there want a date with a cheerleader. A bit of fun at Steve’s expense isn’t worth blowing that chance over.

Billy’s face goes through an amusing journey of emotions. In the end he scoffs and turns away with a: “Let the ballerinas do their thing.”

Molly’s face contorts in a hateful look, before she takes a deep breath and lets it go. Steve honestly admires her ability to do so.

She turns back to Steve and puts on big eyes as she clasps her hands together and says: “Please, Steve, stay for a little. We really appreciate your help. You’re such a gentleman, I mean that, you know. A knight in shining armor. Please, stay a little more, we’d all owe you.”

If he hadn’t grown up around his mother and seen how Molly plastered on the dainty, pleading eyes, he wouldn’t have realized this was a manipulation. She is playing into his masculinity and implying he could score a date if he stays.

Luckily for Molly, Steve is having too much fun to turn down a reason to continue, so he pretends to fall for it. He puts on his best smirk and replies: “I mean, how could I refuse a lady in need of help.”

She brightens up, this time the smile is genuine and Steve feels even better about his decision to fuck what anyone thinks. He has already been kicked to the bottom of the ladder. If he has to be here, he might as well do something fun.

He discovers that cheerleaders train almost more rigorously as the basketball team. He is there for another hour, running through the drills again and again. By the time they go home, he at least knows where to stand to not be in the way, though the arm movements escape him.

As he leaves, Lisa gives him a soft smile. She isn’t the loudest, but Steve quite likes her calm and steady presence. Throwing Karen around together has created a bit of a bond. So, he smiles back and says: “Bye, Lisa.”

“Bye, Steve,” she says. “Thank you for staying. Molly has been really stressed about practice lately.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” he tells her, looking around for a second, before he admits: “It was quite fun actually. You girls are crazy strong. I never realized.”

That makes Lisa let out a laugh and she grins: “We’re full of surprises,” before they truly say goodbye and go their separate ways.

Steve has been avoiding showering at school with the basketball team out to get him, so he gets into his car in sweaty clothes. Today he’s relieved his parents are never home. Explaining why he’s sweaty in his day clothes to his father would likely be the last thing he did.

Another thing he is relieved about, is that it is weekend. He hopes that it either doesn’t go the rounds that badly with no one stuck in one building and that by the time Monday rolls around the excitement will have died down.

He gets radioed by Dustin, asking him to drive him and the rest of the nerd squad to the arcade. He agrees easily, needing the distraction.

Because what Steve hadn’t counted on, is how the cheerleading would get stuck in his head. He had expected it to be a one time thing, something nice that would keep his mind of basketball for a bit, but instead he can’t help but think back on how much fun he’d had.

Cheerleaders have a very different team dynamic from basketball. There is more yelling of good jobs and needing to work together, instead of people trying to steal the spotlight and pushing each other around. It was quite nice.

Plus, it felt great to exercise again. And it felt much more like a team sport with Karen needing to trust him and Lisa to keep her upright and to count on Lisa to do her part, while Steve did his. He can’t deny that a part of him wants to do it again.

So, he drives up to Dustin’s house, then the others and listens to them gush about the campaign Will is running, making the shy boy blush. Then they move on how Max still has the high score, but she’s gonna meet them there and Dustin will observe her strategy, then beat her.

Steve doubts that, Max is a beast in the arcade. However, he lets Dustin live in his world as he watches them go nuts, lending the group quarters when they start to come up short.

He muses that these kids have a hobby they like. He used to have that, but basketball is kind of off limits right now. Even playing just for fun is ruined, since those games are mostly the basketball team or people who are friends with the basketball team. All of whom now hate Steve.

He still shoots some hoops alone in his backyard and swims laps in the pool (albeit with less ease after Barb), but he wants to do something with other people again.

Once more his mind drifts to cheerleading, but he quickly pushes that thought away. Cheerleading is for girls, he already got enough shit as is, he doesn’t need more. Besides, Mary will return and they won’t even need an extra person.

It’s not going to happen, so he should let it go and find something new.

“For the last time, zoomer isn’t a thing,” Mike complains loudly. Lucas jumps to Max’s defense at that, something that isn’t appreciated and the group devolves into squabbling over DnD categories again.

Steve wonders if he should pick up DnD. Dustin has explained it to him a few times, but it sounded hard and the thought of having to face Eddie Munson and his crew made Steve’s stomach churn.

He knows it’s his own fault that such a group will probably not welcome him with open arms, but it still isn’t a great feeling. Now that he is paying attention to others than the basketball team more, he can’t deny that the Hellfire club seems to like each other a lot more. Something that Steve will never get to experience, because he burned those bridges before they could even form.

Maybe he could join band. His parents forced him to learn piano when he was younger, though he doubts piano is part of band. Besides, he has seen the people at the band table. He likely won’t be welcome there either.

Honestly, at this point the only place he might not get shunned is the Hawkins High school newspaper, but that will be because of Nancy and Jonathan, which will only make it all the more mortifying. No thanks.

Contemplating his position, he lets out a deep sigh. Then yelps when a voice next to him suddenly asks: “Are you okay, Steve?”

He looks down to see Will looking up at him with concerned eyes. Steve forces a smile onto his face and assures the kid: “Yeah, baby Byers, I’m okay. You doing good? Need a quarter?”

“No, it’s fine,” Will tells him. “I was just asking, because you look sad. Mom told me to keep an eye on you. She wants to make sure you know you can talk to her about what all happened. You sure nothing’s bothering you?”

Will says it with the ease of a kid, who isn’t fully aware of when they are sharing too much, but the words hit Steve right in the chest.

After the Upside Down bullshit, he hasn’t been sleeping as well and there is no one really to lean on. He is distracting himself with school and driving the kids around. His parents aren’t home to notice anything, yet here Joyce is, showing more care than any adult ever has for Steve.

He has to swallow as to not break down and ruffles Will’s hair as he clears his throat. “That’s sweet, kid, but I’m good. I promise. Just thinking about school.”

At that Will nods with understanding and it hurts that this little kid knows more about what Steve is going through at his age. No one should have to struggle with kids being mean, but Will especially doesn’t deserve it with all he has been through.

To distract from the moment, he holds up a quarter and says: “Wanna bet I can beat Dustin’s Pac-Man high score?”

Will giggles: “He’ll be so mad if you do. It’s his only pride after Max took over everywhere.”

“Lets go boil his blood,” Steve tells Will, even though he isn’t even good at Pac-Man. However, it will make Will laugh and then he can make the kid try, paying for it, because he saw how Will ran out of coins a bit ago.

The weekend passes further until it is Monday and he is parking at the school. He isn’t looking forward to walking in there, not able to predict what he’ll find. He doesn’t like being unprepared in social situations.

As he walks down the hall, he gets a few weird looks, but no one says anything about it. Maybe Molly’s threat about the dates worked and no one is daring. Steve hopes so.

His luck doesn’t hold up, sadly. During first period a note is handed to him with a crude drawing of him in a cheering costume, the word princess written above it. The door to a classroom is opened for him with the comment: “Ladies first.”

Steve honestly finds it more childish and annoying than hurtful, except that it keeps hitting home what he already knew. That he wasn’t supposed to do that and there is something wrong with him, because he actually enjoyed himself, because he even thought of doing it.

Because cheerleading is for girls. It’s not for boys and the fact that Steve did it and enjoyed it means that somewhere in his brain there is something wrong with him. He already knows that there is something wrong with him, but having it spelled out for him?

It’s soul crushing.

By the time lunch period rolls around, he already knows that he doesn’t want to be in the cafeteria right now. It’s still too cold for anyone to sit outside, besides stepping out for a smoke. So, he sets up camp on a wall outside and eats his lunch. Rather cold than a target.

About halfway through lunch, he hears someone approaching. He steels himself for whatever is coming his way. He turns around, surprised to see it’s Molly and Heather, Lisa running after them as if she is trying to stop them.

She doesn’t make it in time, because Molly is already there. She is staring him down and Steve wonders what she has heard to make her look like that. Uncertain, he asks: “Can I help you with something?”

“Emma broke her leg,” Molly says in lieu of an answer.

“Okay?” Steve replies.

“We need someone to take her place in the competition two weeks from now,” Molly explains further and it starts to click what she is asking.

“No,” Steve denies immediately. He wants to say yes, he would love to do more if he were to listen to the little voice in his head, but he can’t. He has already seen what just one time helping out did to the tatters of his reputation, he can’t imagine what everyone will think or say if he took part in a competition.

Frustration creeps into Molly’s face and she protests: “But Lisa said you told her you had fun. You were good at it. Why not?”

“Molly, no.” Lisa is finally there. She looks apologetically at Steve and says: “I didn’t know she would do this when I mentioned it. I’m sorry, Steve.”

She looks genuinely distraught and Steve instantly feels bad for her. They had built up the most camaraderie together. She obviously felt the same and despite the fact that they needed someone, there was already enough solidarity between them after one practice that she would stick up for him against the cheer captain. That never happens in basketball.

“Let her try,” Heather cuts in, backing up the cheer captain. From what Steve had seen, Heather isn’t afraid to stop Molly if she thinks the other goes too far. Right now she apparently agrees with her friend, though.

Lisa sends him another apologetic look that he answers with a reassuring smile.

Molly gets the attention back on herself and says: “Look, I know why you’re saying no. Trust me, I get it. But this competition is the biggest of the season. It’s statewide and there will be college scouts there. You don’t understand, I need this competition to go well.”

She looks at him with intense eyes and Steve knows this so well. Right now she isn’t trying to manipulate him, she is talking to him as a fellow athlete, whose only chance to get into college is a sports scholarship.

And a part of Steve wants to think fuck it and say yes. He is already hanging on the bottom, might as well do whatever he wants. But he can’t be like the party, like those kids who don’t care and just have fun. He can’t be anything but a Harrington.

“It’s just two weeks,” Heather pleads. “The competition is in two weeks. We’ll train every day so you get it down, you do it once and then you can walk away. We won’t ask more than that.”

“I can’t,” Steve says, sounding apologetic. “You know, I can’t. I should have never offered to help Friday. I don’t even know why you would want to associate with me. You’d be better off trying to convince one of your own friends.”

Molly huffs: “All of our friends are already on the cheer squad.”

“And most girls aren’t able to get strong enough to do the lifts in two weeks,” Lisa adds quietly, joining her friends. She obviously also wants him to say yes, even if she feels bad for how his words were being used against him.

Heather agrees too: “And we can’t teach them how to stunt or catch either in that time. We already know you can fill in as a base. Emma is a base too.”

The more they beg, the harder it is for Steve to say no. He doesn’t want to say no, they all know it, but he has to. He will only be here for half a year more, then he’ll be off to college. He’d like to say in one piece until then and this will be counterproductive.

“Think of it as a deal,” Molly tells him.

“A deal?” he repeats.

“Yeah, the cheer squad is big,” Molly explains. “At least one of us is in all of your classes. We can offer you protection, a social barrier and you can pay us back by doing the competition.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Steve scoffs, though it is quite obvious to everyone in Hawkins High that Steve is a prime target without backup. Now that he stopped performing King Steve, it’s like everyone can see all that is wrong with him.

Clearly Molly thinks the same, because she raises her brow at him. She says: “I’m serious, Steve. I know it’s nonsense, but we’re the girls the guys want to get with and the other girls want to be. And cheer squad sticks together. When Tommy harassed Karen at a party, we all agreed he wouldn't get a date. And look at him. He’s with Carol now.”

Steve remembers the cheer squad turning against Tommy, neither of them had ever figured out why until now. Carol has always considered herself too cool for the cheer squad and Steve wonders if her dating Tommy is a rebellion against them.

“If you say yes, Billy won’t have another date with a cheerleader ever. You’ll sit at the cheer table surrounded by girls. If one of the basketball boys wants a date, they have to be nice to you,” Molly lays it out again. “Just think about it for a second.”

Molly is terrifying, Steve decides. If she ever decides to go into business, she’ll be unstoppable. It’s hard to find reasons to say no. He likes it and his father isn’t even home to be mad about it. His parents will be back next month, by that time everyone will have forgotten about this. They’ll never even have to know.

“Does the deal still stand after the competition?” Steve asks. He is also the son of a business man, he might not like it, but he knows the trade well.

“It sticks till the end of the year and if I make it into college and you have to repeat a year, it extends to next year too,” Molly promises. “Lisa will ensure it.”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Steve protests, but he feels quite relieved. He holds out his hand and smiles: “You got yourself a deal.”

“Yes,” she cheers, shaking his hand, before using the movement to pull him from the wall. “Come on,” she tells him. “No more moping outside. It’s way too cold.”

The four of them make their way inside. Steve is a big believer in seeing is believing, so he still braces himself when they enter the cafeteria. However, no one is willing to risk a cheerleader getting caught in the cross fire.

He gets many glares, but he has long since learned to keep his head up and ignore it as he follows the girls to their table. When he gets there, multiple faces erupt in smiles and Karen excitedly asks: “Did you agree?”

Steve is taken aback by how happy they all are with the news. All of them practically cheer when he nods and they pull him in their midst as they start explaining the competition to him. It’s overwhelming in a good way. Their excitement is infectious and it’s the best lunch period he’s had since before Halloween.

When lunch period is over, Heather hooks her arm around his and smiles: “We have History right now, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, a bit stunned how seriously she takes it without making a big deal out it. He should probably be embarrassed that he is being protected by a group of girls, but he can’t bring himself to care much when Heather rips up the note before it reaches him and he isn’t tripped up again in the hallways.

He has an escort for the entire day and after the last bell has rung, Susan walks with him to cheerleading practicing, because that is what he has agreed to.

This time, he knows better than to try and do this in his normal clothes, so he changes in a toilet stall, feeling a sense of solidarity with all the less sporty kids he’s seen doing that throughout the years.

They start with a warm up, which Steve takes very seriously after how sore he’d been all weekend, as he ignores the looks of the basketball team when they see him stretching with the cheerleaders in his gym clothes.

Those fucker probably thought he would be running far away from them and not dare to do anything they would dislike ever again. Steve feels a smug sense of defiance as he moves to touch his toes.

The others easily slide into splits and Steve honestly has no clue how they do it. Lisa makes eye contact with him from where she is relaxing in a split and quirks a brow at his confused expression, like she can’t understand what is weird about the situation.

“How do you do that?” Steve asks as an explanation. “How are your legs not killing you right now? That’s so fucking impressive.”

Understanding dawns on her face and she softly laughs: “Practice and patience. I’ve been doing cheer since middle school.”

“Wish I could do that,” Steve comments.

“Don’t let coach hear that or she’ll make it her mission to get you there and let me tell you, she is a hardass,” Lisa informs him.

Steve honestly hadn’t considered the fact that the cheer team would also have a coach and anxiety creeps up at the idea of having to face her. Before he can bolt, they’re interrupted by Ms. Miller, who teaches geography. “Everyone gather around,” she calls.

Reluctantly Steve follows after the girls, trying to stay out of sight of Ms. Miller. However, it’s for naught, because Ms. Miller asks: “Molly, have you found someone to replace Emma?”

“Yes, coach,” Molly says. “Steve is helping out.”

Ms. Miller frowns and Steve feels the heat gathering in his cheeks as everyone parts so she can see Steve. Awkwardly he smiles at her and waves. “Uhm, hi, Ms. Miller.”

“It’s coach Miller here,” she tells him. “I expect you to take this seriously. Are you able to do that, Steve?”

“Yes, coach,” the answer comes naturally.

Coach Miller smiles: “Good to hear. Do you have any clue what we’re doing?”

“Uhm, I subbed for Mary Friday, but other than that, no clue,” Steve answers honestly. “Except that it’s for a competition.”

Surprise flashes over coach Miller’s face at the confession, but it is quickly replaced by glee. She claps her hands together and blows her whistle: “Alright everyone, we’re going through the whole thing from the top. Slowly. Make sure Steve knows what’s happening next.”

Everyone immediately starts moving. For a second Steve stands there unsure of what to do, then Heather comes up to him and smiles: “You’re in my group. Come on.”

He easily follows her as she walks towards two other girls. She introduces them both. First she points to a Latina girl with a high ponytail. “This is Sofia, she’s the other base. Look to her for clues.”

Steve nods and shakes Sofia’s hand. He doesn’t have any classes with her, because he thinks she’s a junior. But he has seen her around in Nancy’s AP Honor courses when they were still dating.

“And this is Chrissy, our flyer,” Heather introduces a red hair shy looking girl.

“Hi,” she greets.

“Hello,” Steve replies with a smile he hopes is reassuring. He’s pretty sure the girl is a sophomore, who knows him only by reputation. He doesn’t want to scare her.

After the introductions, Steve is positioned into the starting position. They go through the entire routine at a snail’s pace to ensure Steve can follow along. Today they’re just focusing on being at the right place, tomorrow they’re primarily running through stunts and he’s told that the arm movements will come later.

Like Friday, Steve is having a blast. Sofia is super smart and hilarious. She makes all sorts of jokes under her breath that have all of them struggling not to crack up under the harsh gaze of coach Miller.

Chrissy is also nice and very caring and enthusiastic when she gets out of her shell a little. The only thing is how tiny she is. Steve feels like he’ll break her ankle if he holds her too tightly.

The atmosphere is also so much more fun. Coach Miller is strict much like the basketball coach is, but she still yells out encouragements too. And between the cheerleaders themselves, they’re constantly calling out: “Well done!” or “Oh my god, that was so good!”

If anyone in the basketball team were to do that, they would’ve gotten weird looks and called a fag or something. Steve doesn’t miss it, but he’s sad that all of them are told not to even encourage each other. The most they are allowed is a slap on the back. It doesn’t seem fair.

But he alone can’t change anything about that, so he finds himself in the limbo of smiling when he gets a compliment, but being too awkward to say anything himself as practice goes on.

At they end they all do their cooling down together. Molly takes a place close to Steve and grills him the entire time about how confident he is he can get it before the competition. Steve assures her that he will, though he adds that he doesn’t know if he can keep smiling. “I don’t even know how you all do that,” he tells her.

Molly laughs at that and answers: “Oh, Steve, you are such a guy, you know.”

“What?” he asks, a bit confused and unsure what could have gotten that response.

“Come back to me when you walked a day in heels,” she says instead of answering. “We’re used to smiling through the pain.”

Steve privately thinks that doesn’t sound very healthy, but he keeps his mouth shut, unsure he wants to have this discussion.

They disperse to the changing rooms. Steve contemplates going home sweaty again, but he’s in just his shorts now and it’s still way too cold outside for that. Plus, the basketball team is still going, so he hurries through his shower, hoping he’ll be done, before they get there.

However, they’re done quicker with their punishment laps than Steve expected. So, he’s in the middle of pulling his shirt on when they flood into the changing room.

For a second both Steve and the team freeze, staring at each other in some sort of stand off. Then play is pressed again and Steve is suddenly face to face with Billy, who spits: “What, hanging out with the freaks and little girls wasn’t enough for you, Harrington?”

Steve takes a deep breath, trying not to let it get to him. He replies: “I’m just helping out, Hargrove, you know, doing something nice? Ever heard of the word nice? Or did you skip that lesson in kindergarten?”

Billy bristles and steps forwards, pushing Steve back onto the bench. He gets right up into Steve’s face, who is hit in the face with the stench of teenage boy sweat. He wrinkles his nose, which is the wrong thing to do, because he is grabbed by the front of his shirt and Billy spits: “Those girls can’t help you here. I’m not done with you.”

“Well, I am done with you,” Steve answers coolly, reaching for his bag. He has tried fighting Billy before, that didn’t work out. Now he just hopes he can flee. Let him be a coward, it’s not like anyone here still respects him.

Anger flares up in Billy’s face again and he reels back, probably to hit Steve. However, he is still holding Steve’s shirt, but Steve never managed to put it on properly. So, before the hit lands, he slithers out of it and onto the floor, rolling away and snatching bag as he shoulders his way through the rest of the team, who are luckily too stunned to stop him as he breaks free.

In the hallway, he runs into Lisa, who looks at him in surprise. He looks downs, realizing he’s shirtless and gives her an awkward smile. “Uh, this is intentional?” he says.

“Harrington!” they hear Billy bellow from the changing room and Steve starts power walking away from the changing room, pulling Lisa with him and putting his sweaty shirt on again.

“Are you okay?” Lisa asks with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve smiles at her. “Just going to change at home next time.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it really sucks that they’re treating you like that over this,” Lisa tells him genuinely.

“I get it,” Steve shrugs. “I mean, it’s not exactly conventional, you know. Everyone probably thinks it’s a little weird. Hell, I don’t even know why I offered Friday.”

“Still, you’re just doing something nice,” Lisa argues, a small frown on her forehead. She isn’t the fighting type, but she does get frustrated.

“Don’t think they care,” Steve laughs. “They already didn’t like me before this either. They just have something else to hold against me now.”

Lisa’s frown deepens, but she doesn’t say anything.

Steve honestly doesn’t feel like talking about it, so he changes the subject by asking: “You have a car, or want a ride home?”

“I mean, if you’re sure,” Lisa says.

“Of course,” Steve says. “It’s no trouble. And you can tell me more about the terms on the way. I have no clue what coach Miller is telling us 90% of the time.”

That makes Lisa laugh and they set off towards the parking lot together. Luckily, Billy doesn’t try anything with Lisa nearby. Steve tries not to question it too much. He’s tired of trying to figure out what Billy is thinking.