#but billy hargrove deserves better
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hippielittlemetalhead · 1 year ago
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So season 3. Let's do this!
This took so so so long and is not quite where/what I wanted it to be soooo... I am so sorry 😅🥲 this will most likely be 2 parts cause... Yeah, just life man.
Actually some dialogue in this one? Sure, a line or two, as a treat.
(Part1) (part2)
Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for a few weeks now and he feels like he's built a decent rapport with his coworker Robin. She's witty and snarky and opinionated and when Steve wears a more tinted lipgloss than he intended resulting in a customer clocking it and saying something rude that he can't help but smile his dead-eyed customer service smile at, she clocks out for her lunch early (and takes an extra 15 minutes) and comes back with a full face of makeup and shoos him into the back with the mascara she bought from the shop a couple stores over. They both start coming to work with at least mascara, eyeliner and lipstick and Steve loves it. He compliments the hand-drawn designs on her shoes and she asks where he got his rainbow heart pin. They mostly disagree on music they listen to -she still lets him drag her to a couple live music nights at The Hideout with him and Billy every now and then anyway- but their politics and basic life philosophies line up pretty well.
He could do without the 'You Rule / You Suck' board, especially when Billy gets in on it and adds tallies from a little notebook he starts keeping when he and Steve hang out outside of kids and work. And the jokes about his kids (and occasionally Billy) when they come through for free passage to the movies. And the jabs about his parents' money like he still has access to that or their house.
He doesn't tell her that he was cut off and disowned and kicked out. He doesn't tell her that he had to get a job to help pay for his community college courses because he was a disappointment that couldn't get into a pre-approved 4-year university and that meant no college fund and he was still a few years away from being 21 and having access to the trust fund his grandparents set up for him when he was still just a lump of forming cells. And even then anything in that will probably be blown on buying himself his own permanent place instead of just a hand-me-down trailer in the middle of the woods so he needs to save for things like bills and a mortgage.
He doesn't tell her that the reason he lets the kids get away with so much is because they're *his* and they've already seen more fucked up shit than the cops in this town (save Hop) and he'll be damned if they don't get to just be kids. He'll be damned if they decide he's someone they need to hide from and sneak around like they hide and sneak from Joyce and Hop cause that's how they didn't know about half the shit the kids got up to while the adults were doing their best to take care of things themselves. He doesn't tell her that he's paying "rent" to the chief of police (it's way less than he should be but it's all Hop would take).
He doesn't tell Robin a lot of things.
Then sometime after Robin finally warmed up to him but before Dustin comes back from camp, Eddie Munson walks into Scoops Ahoy, his metalhead nerdy entourage in tow. He orders a plain scoop of vanilla with sprinkles in a cup and one of the others also orders something small and simple (while longingly eyeing their diabetes-inducing, horribly artificial tasting, bubblegum flavor when Munson turns away) before all of them are squeezing into one of the largest booths, emptying out messenger bags and backpacks of overstuffed binders and scuffed up versions of very familiar looking textbooks. It's like looking at an older -slightly grungier- version of his kids.
"Gentlemen, now that 🎶school's out for summer🎶-" There's a musical lilt as he says it that sounds vaguely familiar to Steve, "-and it has been confirmed that I will in fact be held captive for yet another stint in the hell they call Hawkins High School it is time we confer and conspire for the next year of Hellfire and the little sheep that will be joining our flock." He kinda loses track of it after that because then his kids are rushing in demanding tasters of everything and edging towards the lifting part of the counter with a look in their eyes that speaks of mischief. He puts up the initial fuss about them only visiting him for his backrooms access and that they promised to only come over when there were no customers around. He lets them through anyway.
He notices Munson eyeing him as he puts the partition back in place shaking his head and Robin laughing at him as she washed their ice cream scoops. The one that's vaguely more familiar looking than the rest and reminds him of a taller, angrier, Dustin with a better hair regimen isn't quite glaring at him but is definitely paying more attention than the rest of Munson's posse and seems more suspicious than Eddie's curious.
The metalheads are still there when Billy shows up stinking of chlorine in clothes that are damp where they cling to his frame. The group loosens up a little when he shoots Steve his signature smug smirk as he shrugs on his denim jacket that -like Steve's own jacket hanging out of sight in the staffroom- had begun accumulating patches and pins since Neil's incarceration. Unlike Steve's, Billy's has homages to bands like Mötley Crue, Deff Leppard, Twisted Sister and Guns N' Roses with little trails of shakily embroidered flowers and constellations on the collar and hems and filling the spaces between the patches and pins. Billy also has a small pink triangle on the lapel where Steve has a rainbow. Steve pretends not to notice the way the group goes a little quiet as Billy starts his usual routine of sunnily demanding tasters of all the available flavors and then again with sprinkles to "-really get an idea of their ✨nuance✨, prettyboy" before deciding on a scoop of double chocolate with a scoop of raspberry vanilla in a cup with sprinkles and one of their fresh waffle cones on top. Like always.
"Really branching out there aren't ya, tough guy?" Steve keeps his face as stoney as possible but he can't help the humored edge to his voice.
Billy just winks at him running his tongue over his teeth as he gives Steve an exaggerated leer, "Gotta keep you on your toes, handsome." Robin fake gags and Steve laughs and Eddie Munson turns red as he stares at the two joking jocks. Billy goes quiet as he stares at his ice cream and Steve recognizes the look on his face, tells the blonde to go sit down in their usual booth and he'd be taking his break soon and they can talk about whatever's bothering him.
What's bothering him is Neill getting parole for 'good behavior', Jim only telling the Mayfield-Hargroves almost a week after he was let out because that was actually the same day he himself found out. Billy found out just before a summer basketball practice session and thinks he snapped at an underclassmen he's been trying to get to open up about what Billy is 90% certain is going on in the kid's home, but he knows that cops can't do much if the victim(s) refuse to trust in those trying to help them. He's worried about the kid he snapped at. Worried about Susan and Max. Worried that even with the restraining order Neill will try something. Billy tells Steve he had thought he saw Neill around the outskirts of town during errands or during his turn to haul the kids around a couple of times before Hop told them and now he's sure it wasn't just paranoia. Steve tells him they'll figure it out, reminds him he's not alone in this
That makes Billy smile, small and tired but real and grateful. His shoulders are still tense and there's still a wariness in the smallest crease between his eyebrows that makes Steve ask if there's anything else. They talk about some of the weird dreams Billy's been having that makes Steve encourage him to talk to El. Just to make sure Billy isn't going through what happened to Will the last alternate-dimension-go-around.
They make plans to head out to see the two Hoppers after Steve's shift. Come up with a basic timeline of when and where Billy thinks he saw Neil so they have something to start with for Hop. Put together an idea of how involved Billy wants to be in whatever plan Hop comes up with. They're interrupted by a group of girls swanning into the shop and Steve being yelled at by Robin to get himself back to work. As he gets up from the table Steve levels Billy with a look that makes the blond think about the way Max and the kids described Steve when they talked about how he fought off the pack of demodogs in the junkyard, planting himself between them and snarling snapping danger like Galahad himself.
Steve looks him in the eyes and says "I swear Billy, we're going to get through this, we'll take care of it and keep you and the girls safe. Hop knows what's going on and even Callahan can't get away with letting that piece of shit fall through the cracks after what he pulled." He leans in close and bites out probably louder than he should for the amount of people in the shop, "And if that fucker gets near any of you I've got Darling in Baby's trunk and I am not afraid to use her on a human shaped monster instead."
Author's (rambler's) Notes:
So, that's all I have for season 3 rn I am so sorry. 😭 I'm working on the next bit but I am so burnt out recently and now I'm unemployed cause of the ceiling at my job caving in which does not help the stress. So I unfortunately do not have a timeframe for you. 🥲 A couple of folks asked to be tagged so... Here you are? To be fair I'm not making any promises in regards to the taglist in the future, I will do my damnedest and y'all will have to bear with me.
I'm glad people are liking this and tbh this has gotten more attention than I expected so thanks? I appreciate the appreciation of my ramblings. Feel free to scream at/with me about this au in my asks box and I'll respond when/as I can. I'm just glad people are enjoying this. 🙃
@heartsong18
@knightofthieves
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allaboardtheussharringrove · 2 months ago
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Ahh the H&M shoot, my roman empire:
So these pics are all about the ✨POSE✨
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And then, I came across this gem, and it just looks like a more genuine Billy…
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runraerun · 2 months ago
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genderflu1dwh0r · 8 months ago
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Billy is the only character to be called a faggot by a parent. No good parent calls their kid a slur and hurts them.
Billy is a victim.
Reblog this. People seem to forget that Billy is still a teen that gets abused by his father. Again, Billy Hargrove is a victim. Stop erasing this.
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shieldofiron · 5 days ago
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If I said Billy playing D&D with the party because Max tricks him, thinking it will be funny. After hearing the rules he insists on being a cleric, and everyone's like ??? But lets him because he's got scary dog privileges.
But then everyone notices he seems to be able to anticipate conflict just from the tone of Eddie's voice. He's quick with the healing spells to his own detriment and will put himself in harm's way to help his party.
Now the party has a new mystery to solve. Why the fuck Billy's like that.
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panickedpenguin · 3 months ago
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Soulmates share a single symptom of emotion. For some, like Dustin Henderson, it's smiling uncontrollably whenever he can feel his soulmate laugh. For others, like Nancy Wheeler, it's balling your fists in tight tension when her soulmate yells in anger.
For Steve Harrington, it's having his eyes burn with unshed tears when he can feel his soulmate crying. When he was younger, he could hardly control the feeling and would openly sob right alongside his soulmate, however far away they were. With age he was able to reel it in, feel it less forcefully, breathe through it. Still, no matter what, his eyes would burn and often get red rimmed with strain. His soulmate was a bit of a crybaby.
He knew Nancy rarely ever cried. She was tough and smart and sought no one's approval but her own. Steve knew Nancy wasn't his soulmate, but he hoped. By God he hoped. But no, his soulmate cried. They cried almost every Christmas and always every Thanksgiving. They cried on March 29th and September 17th. Even now, having cried throughout Steve's whole life, his soulmate would cry randomly in the middle of the day or a Saturday night, cry first thing in the morning or late late, waking Steve from his sleep.
It used to annoy Steve, thinking that his soulmate must still be a baby if they're crying this much at the age of twelve, fourteen, sixteen, like fucking grow up! But when the crying wouldn't stop, when the regularity of it wouldn't slow down, Steve thought something must be wrong. Maybe his soulmate has chronic pain or suffers migraines. Maybe they're being forced to watch the world's saddest movies all the time by his evil step-mom. And then, maybe they live in a world with monsters from another dimension that attack them in the night.
Steve had told Tommy once, how he can feel his soulmates sorrow. Sorrow like drowning in grief and loss. How he feels like crying with his soulmate all the time. Tommy had nodded along, sympathizing. To lighten the mood, he joked that there must be people who pop boners when their soulmate is horny. How maybe they jizz their pants when their soulmate cums. Steve laughed and laughed and didn't bring it up again. Sometimes he'll feel the burning need to cry and think of boners instead.
When he meets Billy Hargrove, he believes that that man has never shed a tear in his life. Steve swears that Billy is a hotheaded asshole with a heart of solid ice. If he even has a heart at all. When Steve is exposed to his competitive streak and mean sense of humor, he thinks that Billy's heart might just be splintered open with the right icepick. When he sees Billy laying across the hood of his camaro, pointing out the constellations and telling stories about them over one too many beers, Steve thinks that maybe his heart isn't ice at all. Just encased in steel. Like a lockbox. And someone's got the key.
He wonders if someone has the key to his heart, too, or if they've lost it in the river of tears they've shed. He wonders if he could show them the key, if they could unlock Steve's heart together and never cry alone again. Because Steve thinks, when he cries, it's because he's alone in his feelings. Lonely and rattling for affection. Maybe that's why his soulmate cries, too.
There was one time Steve felt the burning need to cry all night long and then watched Billy Hargrove sit out of basketball practice for a week. Another time, Steve was at a party where he found himself in Eddie Munson's company in the front driveway, smoking a joint. The weed was making them sleepy and honest and Steve started crying over the death of his beloved Spaniel when he was eight years old, his best friend and housemate while his parents were away. Then Billy Hargrove came storming out of the house and slamming into his car, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. And then there was another Septemeber 17th where Steve hadn't felt the need to cry until he was on his way home from a night shift at Family Video. He knew the date and knew his eyes would be burning for a while more so he refrained from going home to face his parents and instead drove out to the junkyard. He thought he might find something cool but instead he found Billy Hargrove, bashing in the hood of a car with a tire iron and sobbing. He wiped snot across his sleeve and glared hard at Steve for approaching, yelling and taunting. But Steve felt like crying too and he knew something about bashing faces in, so he picked up a brick and threw it through the car's passenger seat window to get Billy to shut up. They both cried and destroyed a few cars together. When they were good and done they sat down on a green washing machine and shared Billy's cigarettes.
Billy said, "My mom died nine years ago today." He sounded so hollow and worn out that Steve only hummed his acknowledgement. Then Steve said, "My soulmate is lonely today." Billy heaves a huge sigh and then they sit there for a long time after.
They don't realize they're soulmates for another few months, at Joyce's Christmas party where Steve kisses Billy on the cheek soft and careful under the mistletoe. Billy sneaks out the back door to silently sob into the forest. Steve soon follows him out to make sure he's okay, only to watch Billy's body shake and barely exhale a breath while Steve's eyes burn and burn.
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80svhstapes · 1 month ago
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"what a horrible monster"
you mean a CHILD trying to survive actively being abused with no support system or healthy coping mechanism whatsoever?
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ghosttownheart · 13 days ago
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"Billy Hargrove is racist because Dacre was supposed to say the n-word and refused to!!"
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If they literally read the next paragraph they would've understood/contextualized, from Montgomery himself, that the very fact he refused to meant the motivation changed and Billy no longer hated Lucas for his race...
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californiaboytoybilly · 3 months ago
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-> Rot in the misery that you have sown; my forgiveness is my own, and I do not feel like sharing.
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hippielittlemetalhead · 2 years ago
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Typing this up on my breaks at work so don't come at me for any errors. Not Harringrove unless you mean in like a Capital P Platonic sense reminiscent of his bond with Robin but also Billy antis need not interact?
Season 2 booiiii!!
(part 1)
Steve coasts through Senior year but the small changes in his appearance and occasionally yelling out his two-bits when Munson goes on one of his lunch table rants only settle him so much and Nancy hasn't said but he knows she's not a big fan and he tries to be a steadying presence. Tries to be someone she can forget it all with and let it go because they're kids who signed NDAs and maybe if he can help her the nightmares will stop and the ringing in his ears won't keep coming and going and he will stop spacing out in class. She gets on him about his grades and college. He figures he'll get a job with his dad, learn the company and have enough of an income that he can support Nancy as she pursues her passions and college and fights to change the world and when he inherits the company he'll be in a position to make real lasting change in small towns like Hawkins.
But then the Hargroves come to town and Billy makes a play for the crown that still sits so heavy on his head. Pushes and antagonizes and tries to get a rise from him. There's something about the way he holds himself, the way he preens and struts and takes up so much space while keeping himself so contained that pricks at the back of Steve's head. He's seeing the dots but they're just not connecting. So he lets Hargrove make the big show of biting at his heels but doesn't rise to any of the challenges. And it seems that with someone like Billy to hide behind Tommy has forgotten what happened when he made a play for the crown himself. Though Steve smiles to himself when he realizes that it's obvious Billy wasn't told that little piece of information when he makes comments about Steve being soft and not willing to fight for his reputation. Billy pushes and taunts and Steve is so tired of him and the metalheads heckling him for being punk one minute then calling him a poser the next and trying to keep up appearances for Nancy and the people in town who would report him to his parents before he's ready if he really dressed and behaved the way he wanted to and the government goons he knows have been keeping an eye on Hawkins since that night.
Steve stumbles but he doesn't fall.
Then Tina's Halloween party happens and the girl he loves and is building his future around is calling him and everything they've said and done and promised bullshit. Tommy and Co are still hyping up Hargrove beating Steve's official record as he makes his way out of the house instead of showing off his refined skills from that summer in [insert major big city] that started him on this path to becoming the person he wants to be. He saw Byers around, he knows he'll get her home safe.
Nancy confronts him about not picking her up for school. He won't break up with her behind the school gymnasium of all places but he tells her about everything being bullshit by her own statement, gives her a chance to say she loves him and hopefully mean it, and when she doesn't take it he walks away. He plans to talk to her that weekend. Plans to punk up a little even if she doesn't like it cause it makes him feel safer and more centered, take her flowers and apologize for the way he handled it but call them off. Instead he gets Dustin -one of the kids he's given a ride or two to the arcade with Mike when he and Nancy were headed to the movies or the diner- and monsters and another kid he gives rides to and some random spitfire of a girl. He's angry and sad and scared and he makes sure his heavy leather jacket is zipped up before heading out of the bus to draw out the dog shaped monsters. He needs to keep them safe and if he can hit something bloody in the process that's a win-win.
They end up back at the Byers' place. There's a plan and his part is keeping the kids safe as his now officially ex-girlfriend follows and comforts the boy she is willing to bear her claws for. The plan does not include Billy Hargrove showing up for the random spitfire girl who is apparently his little sister. The plan does not include Billy holding one of his kids (yes it's only been a couple hours but they're HIS to protect godsdammit) up by the front of his shirt and threaten him. The plan does not include a fight that starts with Billy laughing something about finally meeting King Steve and ending with the refrigerator being knocked open and the dead demodog falling out between two scared bloody teenagers who know too much about monsters. The plan does not include Billy Hargrove almost sounding scared as he snaps something about Max going with him because he was not letting her just sneak out to fight monsters with dumbasses trying to get themselves killed and someone named Neil already knowing she was gone and she was lucky Billy hadn't mentioned the Sinclair boy when saying she was probably out with her new friends. It definitely doesn't include Max looking like she finally figured out a particularly hard puzzle and telling Billy if he helped them and helped Steve keep them safe in the tunnels then the chief of police would not only know he was trustworthy and useful but maybe even be indebted for helping make sure the chief's daughter survived her part of the plan.
It makes the dots line up and connect when that makes Billy pause and tentatively ask vague half-questions that he only seemed to trust Max to be able to answer.
Steve decides he hates Neil Hargrove after they've made it through the tunnels easy as anything with Billy taking point so Steve can take up the rear and keep the kids between them. After Billy pulls Dustin away from the weird flower thing that almost got the kid in the face and pulls Mike up and away once Steve got the vine to let go of his leg. After Hopper comes back to see them covered in dirt and soot but grinning victoriously and he had them walk him through what happened so they're all on the same page when the suits decide to show up. After Max pulls Hopper and Billy aside and Steve is able to catch snippets about an asshole and bruises on his face but his knuckles unharmed so she knows he wasn't getting into fights. Steve decides he hates Neil Hargrove and maybe he and Billy have more in common than he thought.
It's not easy after that. The nightmares are still bad but now he and Billy have an understanding and a codeword and a system for whose turn it is to drive when neither of them can sleep. The ringing is a little worse and a little more consistent and his left(? I can't remember if it's his left or right eye that keeps getting messed up) eye gets a little fuzzy when he's tired or stressed. His grades suffer but with Billy's help he's at least able to make it into the local community college once he graduates even if the fancy university his parents wanted him to attend rejected him. El seems intrigued by Steve's look, calls him 'bitching' like she calls Nancy 'pretty' and says he reminds her of her sister and Hopper doesn't seem as big a fan of that but acknowledges that Steve is good babysitter material which will be needed if El is going to be joining society again sooner than he wanted. Max and Billy work with Hopper and Joyce in wearing down Susan to leave Neil or at least make it known that the chief is well aware of what type of man he is and will not stand for it in his town.
That comes to a head when Max and Lucas are unofficially each other's date to the Snowball dance and Neil finds out that Billy knew and even encouraged it (because his sister deserves nice things dammit and this boy was close enough for now... But he's watching and will do his big brother duty if necessary), taking Max there and being seen talking sternly to the Sinclair boy before shaking his hand. Hopper ends up having to lead Neil Hargrove away in handcuffs and Max stays with him and El while Susan files for divorce and custody of Billy through a swollen eye and Steve makes a point of getting Billy his schoolwork and chauffeuring the kids to keep him company during his brief stay in the hospital. Life isn't all good, but it's getting better.
Then Steve's parents come home.
It was thankfully a day The Party and Co weren't over and a recovered Billy was busy applying for summer jobs and he'd deep cleaned the common rooms because that one dusty shelf just rubbed him the wrong way now that the kids weren't around to distract him and the sides of his hair had grown out some so it looked more like the type of haircut he used to have freshman year if a little longer up top. It was unfortunately the day after his father had actually listened to the latest messages and read the end of the year report cards concerning his son's graduation. It was unfortunately a day when Steve was in a shirt that had the sleeves and parts of the sides cut off and showcased his ribs showing the palm sized petal faced Demogorgon head he got the spring break after the first round of interdimensional horror. It was unfortunately a day when [insert pretentious name] Harrington decided that since Steve was 18, couldn't make it into any 'acceptable school' and was obviously not planning on being a proper Harrington man then he was cut off, he knew about the trips to Indianapolis (not all of them but enough) he knew about the music and the parties (even if Steve hadn't thrown one in years), knew Steve was involved in something that had the government coming around and making them look bad in front of the neighbors. He knew about the subtle pins and patches on the jacket hanging by the front door and he wouldn't have that in his house.
So Steve is out by the end of the week. Everything he wants from his room and the house fits into the trunk of the car his dad had signed over as a birthday/graduation gift before the infodump that led them here. He has some money saved from the allowance his parents used to send and a job lined up at the mall opening at the edge of town and the trust fund that his grandparents set up that his father can't touch but neither can Steve before he's 21. He winds up at the door of Hopper's cabin, blurts out that he likes men as much as women, isn't quite an anarchist but it's close some days and his parents found out and it didn't end well before the man can ask what was going on as he opens the door. Hopper lets Steve sleep on their couch while he and Joyce sort out fixing up the old trailer. Billy and El and Nancy and Jonathan help but Steve doesn't want the rest of the kids to know yet. Not with Max still settling after the legal battle with Neil, Lucas at her side trying to help her as best he can, Will recovering from being possessed, Dustin getting ready to go to summer camp and Mike getting over whatever he's being petty about this time (don't want to give the kid more fuel for that fire).
So Steve is mostly moved in to the old trailer by the time he starts at Scoops Ahoy and meets his coworker Robin Buckley. His kids are safe and getting to be kids, his people are all taken care of (Nancy and Jonathan with summer internships and Billy taking Steve's old lifeguard position), the gate is closed, he is set to start some Gen Ed courses at the local community college the next semester and he's heard tell of a decent band that's started playing at The Hideout some weeknights so that will be fun to have something like that closer than Indianapolis.
Life isn't perfect, but it's good. It's getting better.
(part3.1)
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shoot1ngst4r · 3 months ago
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dare i say Billy Hargrove?
the misunderstanding of Billy as a character is genuinely my roman empire, it’s been on my mind for years but idk if anyone will wanna listen😭 (i’m open to conversations btw)
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msbillyhargrove · 4 months ago
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It’s crazy how people want more “complex” characters, but yet y’all didn’t even try understanding Billy, nor could y’all even handle him.
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genderflu1dwh0r · 8 months ago
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Billy is correct.
If I found out my sibling was in a stranger's house with a guy that everyone knew slept with girls and was known as "king Steve" and lied to me, I would rightfully be concerned and ready to kill. And not only is it just Steve, it's 3 other boys.
Everyone should be on Billy's side with this.
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shieldofiron · 2 months ago
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Max: You can't even COME OUT IN A NORMAL WAY?!?!
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writethrough · 2 years ago
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Bad Boy Type
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: Girls' night at Billy and Max's new place takes a turn when El insists on you marrying Billy.
Warnings: Mentions of Neil, extreme fluff, mutual pining (because I'm a whore for that shit), language
Word Count: 4056
A/N: This might be the fluffiest thing I've written. It's also the longest. And yes, I still have requests to finish. But life really said, "It's Billy's time," and I'm not mad about it.
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You were fiercely protective over Max and El since you met. They became the younger sisters you never had. You’d do anything for them. And you always made sure to plan something with them as often as possible.
Today, you three were holed up at Max and Billy’s new place. It wasn’t much. It was a steal since it’d been so run down no one else wanted it. You and the rest of your group helped fix up what you could. After everything you’d all been through, it created an untouchable bond. And everyone was eager to help in whatever way they could, especially once Max confided in you about Billy’s father. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Neil was a shitty person. He gave off enough hostility to power a freight train. A few months after renovating, the house was finally livable. And between your car and Billy’s, they moved within the hour.
All three of you were on the floor around the coffee table, snacking on candy and discussing very important business.
“Okay, okay,” Max said, trying to rein in her laughter. “El, kiss, marry, kill…The Outsiders.”
You grinned and leaned closer as El looked down in thought.
“Kiss Sodapop, marry Johnny, and…I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said timidly.
And because it was El, you and Max accepted that.
You faced Max. “I’m guessing yours would be the same?”
“I’m killing Steve,” she added, and you snickered. “What about you?”
You hummed, running through the characters before picking three.
“Kill Two-Bit, kiss Darry, marry Dally,” you said with a nod.
“Dally’s an asshole!” Max groaned, slapping her thighs.
“But he’s hot,” you countered.
“But he’s an asshole,” she repeated, giving you a look.
“But he’s hot.”
After a few seconds, you all started giggling. You really loved spending time with these two.
El grew quiet, deep in thought, and she made you and Max stop laughing with her question.
“What about Billy?”
Your brow furrowed. “Billy?”
She nodded. “Would you marry him?”
Your face grew warm. Did El think because you liked the bad boy character in a film, you liked one in reality?
Billy had never been outright rude to you—his attitude rubbed you the wrong way—cocky and smug like he knew he could get away with almost anything. It wasn’t until after the Mind Flayer that you befriended him.
You’d describe your friendship as…quiet. You didn’t hang out together—only in a group with everyone or Steve and the other adults. Usually, though, you saw him most when you, Max, and El hung out.
You were the girls’ friend first and foremost. When you started picking Max up when they lived with their parents, he always scowled at you through the door as she raced to your car. Later, you thought it had something to do with Neil’s reactions to his stepdaughter not being home even though he knew where Max was. You had enough knocks on the door from Billy to put two and two together.
Now, Billy was relaxed when you picked her up or stayed over. You sometimes wondered if he was glad Max had you to rely on now that it was just him and his stepsister. If she ever needed anything, he could count on you to lend him a hand.
So while he wasn’t the same rage-filled boy you knew in high school, his reputation still preceded him. Though now you knew him in a different light—provider, protector, and maybe that was why you started to like him.
You shook your head to rid yourself of that thought.
“I��Well, I…I don’t…” Jesus Christ! How were you supposed to answer this without giving yourself away?
Just then, a car door slammed. Billy’s home.
He threw his jacket on the hook and his keys on the table and stopped when he noticed you, Max, and El.
His eyes seemed to linger on you before addressing everyone.
“Hey,” he said, mentally kicking himself. Couldn’t he think of anything better to say? Maybe “you look nice,” not “hey.”
“How was work,” you asked, still trying to shake off El’s question and the fact that he walked in as if summoned.
“Fine. Didn’t know you’d be over.” He would've cleaned up and made it look nice. Maybe then he could cook you dinner.
He had to stop from asking if this little get-together was overnight. He sure hoped so.
“I dragged her out of her house for girls' day. They’re sleeping over, too,” Max said. Maybe she could read his mind—maybe that was why most of your time was spent at Billy’s place and not yours—because Max knew he needed an excuse to talk to you since the Mind Flayer.
He nodded slowly and gestured toward the bathroom.
“I’m gonna take a shower. Order pizza or I can make spaghetti?” he asked.
You tilted your head at his words. Billy cooked?
It made sense. You’re sure he’s had to fend for himself most of his life. You just never thought about him in the kitchen.
Before you could say anything, El said, “I like spaghetti.” And that seemed to settle it.
When Billy left, Max leaned forward. “Don’t worry, he’s actually a really good cook.”
And to play off your daydreams of Billy cooking you breakfast, you said, “I’ll be the judge of that.”
When Billy emerged from the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you were both relieved and disappointed your back faced him.
The girls were telling you their boyfriend troubles, and it took everything in you not to imagine the remaining water tracing Billy’s toned stomach.
“Sometimes I think you have the right idea,” Max said, flopping back in the chair.
You blinked, coming back to reality. “Me? What idea is that?”
“Being single.” She shrugged. “Boys are a pain in the ass.”
You rolled your eyes. “While that is true, sometimes I think it’d be nice to have my person, you know?”
“Your person?” El asked, furrowing her brow.
“Someone who’s always there for you, no matter what. They accept every part of you, good and bad.” You sighed. “They're the person you want to be around the most.”
She looked at you seriously. “We are your person.”
It nearly brought tears to your eyes. One of the many reasons you loved El was her heart.
“C’mere,” you whispered, holding open your arms.
She scootched toward you and wrapped her arms around your waist.
“You too.” You motioned Max over.
That’s how Billy found you three, hugging each other on the couch like you were trying to absorb into one being.
“Am I interrupting some girl thing?” he asked, opening the cabinet.
You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “No, you’re fine.” You looked over the back of the couch. “Anything I can help with?”
He gave you a flirty smile. “Don’t worry. I got it.”
It didn’t take long for him to announce it was ready, and you all grabbed your plates and huddled around the coffee table again. A little thrill went through you when Billy sat beside you, taking your dish from you and setting it down so you could lower yourself.
It was quiet for a few minutes as you all took your first bites. It was only pasta and marinara sauce, but it hit the spot. Maybe it was because Billy made it.
“I’m impressed,” you said, waving your fork around your plate.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Billy mused, warmth blooming in his chest.
“Does this mean you’ll marry Billy?”
You nearly choked on the bite you took. You wished she could read minds so you could scream, “Not the freaking time!”
Billy’s face flushed as he glanced between you two.
“Am I missing something?” He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. You wanted to marry him? Well, no. It sounded like you didn’t want to marry him. Why didn’t you want to marry him?
“No,” you said quickly. Billy tried to convince himself his chest didn’t constrict at that word. 
“(Y/N) would marry Dally,” El said. “And Dally’s an asshole.”
You put your face in your hands. There was no stopping her.
“And I’ve called you an asshole so many times.” Max provided as an explanation.
Billy could only look at you, and as you curled further in on yourself, he smirked—even though he’d been called an asshole twice—maybe there was something to El’s question.
“Didn’t think you were into that type,” he said, leaning back against the couch.
“I’m not. Not really.” You couldn’t look at him, opting to push the noodles around your plate.
“No? Then what is your type, sweetheart?”
He was teasing you. You could push back with teasing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“That’s why I asked.” And the way he said it, it took on a seriousness you weren’t prepared for—like he really wanted to know because he cared about the answer. Like it meant something to him.
“I—”
The phone saved you. And Max jumped up.
“It’s probably Lucas,” she said. They’d been having a good week.
You took the opportunity to excuse yourself. “I’m gonna change.”
You grabbed your things and closed the bathroom door.
Billy watched as you fled. It was cute how flustered he could make you. And that’s when an idea struck him.
With you and Max busy, he turned to El.
“You think she likes me?” he asked, leaning toward her.
“Do you mean like like?” She stared at him with those big innocent eyes.
He nodded.
“I think so.”
“You think so? She hasn’t said anything to you or Max? Girls talk about that stuff at girls' night, right?” He bit his cheek. Was he reading the signs wrong? Were his feelings clouding his judgment?
Since his recovery, you’ve always been there. You made sure he took care of himself and kept an eye on Max. When he told you about the rundown little place he found, you got Hopper on board to pull a few strings and help remodel. Hell, you got everyone to help.
He still remembered the day you painted the walls, and you and Robin put handprints on each other's chests. He and Steve had said, “What about us,” and you and Robin fitted them with their own set. He still had that shirt.
Even the shit that went down with Steve. You were somehow able to mend things between them. It took a lot of work, and arguments popped up, but with you there, he did it. He didn’t have many friends at Hawkins High—they were a means to an end. However, now? He had ones that would have his back in an apocalyptic world. And it was because of you.
You were his rock, even if you didn’t know it. And he wanted to be that person for you.
“She doesn’t tell us,” El said. “But she looks at you the way Nancy looks at Jonathan.”
He knew the look she was talking about, and he hoped she was right.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
“You…You like her, right?” she asked tentatively.
He smiled fondly. “More than Eggos.”
El giggled.
He shook his head slightly, smile remaining, mumbling, “Just want her ‘round all the time.”
She beamed, but before she could say another word, you and Max returned.
Everyone seemed to forget about the conversation before the phone rang. When you came out of the bathroom, El asked if you could start watching movies, and Max quickly put The Karate Kid in.
What surprised you the most was Billy making popcorn and bringing everyone a soda. You thought he’d retreat to his room like he usually did, but he sat next to you on the couch as the girls spread out on the floor with their own bowl of popcorn.
Halfway through the movie, the sun had set, and the air grew cooler. You rubbed your arm absentmindedly, focused on the screen. You vaguely noticed Billy disappearing somewhere, and when he returned, he held a sweatshirt.
Your heart sped up a little at his offer.
You played it off and raised an eyebrow when he handed it to you.
“You’re cold, right,” he asked, putting it in your lap when you didn’t take it right away.
You shook your head. “It’s not that. I’m just shocked you own a sweatshirt.”
He rolled his eyes but held back a smile. “Very funny.” Then when he was settled. “Indiana’s fucking cold.”
You slipped it over your head, the material warming and engulfing you in his scent. Bunching the sleeves into your fists, you leaned against the cushion and tucked your legs under you.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
The movie soon ended, and Max inserted the second film.
Neither you nor Billy spoke after that. It was…nice...being there with him.
Between him and his sweatshirt, you were surrounded by warmth. The noise from the TV lulled into the background, and before you knew it, you were asleep.
Billy noticed almost immediately. He’d been arguing with himself about whether to put an arm around you after he gave you his hoodie.
After the shit he went through, Billy didn’t go after women. He was so in his head about what he’d done—what the monster made him do—he thought everyone was better off if he stayed away. And his body wasn’t the same afterward. Part of him wondered if you’d recoil if he touched you.
And then your head was on his shoulder. Your soft breathing in his ear. And he froze for a second. But then he sunk into you.
If this was the only time you’d be this close to him, he would take it.
He carefully moved his arm to pull you closer, and you shifted in your sleep to snuggle into him. He let his cheek rest against your head for one…two…three…four…five seconds, then lifted back up. He didn’t want Max or El to catch him and ask questions.
It wasn’t long until the movie ended, and the girls were passed out on the floor. And Billy debated staying right where he was, but he knew he shouldn’t.
He did indulge and place a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head before laying you down and pulling a blanket over you. He did the same for El and Max. And once the VHS was safely back in its case, he walked to his room with a final look at you thrown over his shoulder.
When the rising sun hit your eyelids, all you wanted was to turn over and go back to sleep. The sizzle of a frying pan and the smell of pancakes made you sit up.
Billy was by the stove, waiting to flip them and keeping a watchful eye on the bacon.
“Smells good,” you whispered, mindful of the two sleeping girls. Billy’s sweatshirt protected you from the morning chill.
He glanced at you and quirked his lips up. “It’s almost ready.”
You gave him a small smile in return, and it took you a moment to realize he had never done this before. Dinner was one thing, but breakfast was entirely different.
“What brought this on?” you asked, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.
He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to impress you again.” He finally turned around to face you and crossed his arms, spatula in hand.
You let out a breathy laugh, looking down before eyeing the cooking pancakes.
“Don’t let them fold in on themselves when you flip them, and you’re golden,” you teased. 
He raised a brow at you, turned around, and seamlessly flipped both over before setting the spatula down and facing you once more.
You held your hands up in surrender. “Consider me impressed.”
“Good.” He pulled a mug out of the cabinet for himself. “You sleep okay?”
You shrugged. “Good enough. Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”
He would have gladly lent you his bed. He didn’t even need to be in it with you. He would’ve taken the small couch he had crammed in his room.
“Good thing you don’t snore. I think Max would’ve suffocated you,” he said.
You bumped your shoulder with his. “She likes me too much.”
You stared at each other for a moment. Something about Billy in the morning, with the soft light from the sun reflecting in his eyes and shading his hair, was almost breathtaking. He was relaxed, and you hoped it slowly became his new normal.
His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you swore you stopped breathing until you glanced away and saw the pancakes.
“Better watch before they burn,” you said, swallowing to rid yourself of your dry throat.
He had forgotten about them as he took you in. From your pajamas to your still-sleepy gaze and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—you seemed so…at home here.
He tried to shake that thought as he plated breakfast and set it down at the kitchen table.
You could lean against the counter every morning, sipping coffee as he made you both breakfast. He’d peck your lips each time he passed you for something, and as he waited for things to finish cooking, he would wrap his arms around your shoulders and bury his nose in your hair. Your arms would tighten around his waist, and you’d both stand there, completely content as the warm rays filtered in.
Since last night, since El’s question, a spark had ignited within him. The flicker of…hope, something he hadn’t felt since…since…he didn’t even know when. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly, but if El saw a connection between him and Dally, then maybe you did too. He couldn’t deny that he’d been a dick in the past. He was still trying to correct those mistakes. But where Dallas Winston had Johnny, Billy had…well…the closest he could think of was you.
And potentially having a life with you? That didn’t sound too bad. Not at all.
You sat across from one another. You could feel Billy’s eyes on you. When you glanced up from your breakfast, he gave you a smirk as if to say, “Impressed?”
You were about to speak, but he beat you to it.
“So, we didn’t finish our discussion last night.”
“Discussion?” You tilted your head.
He nodded and tried to keep his smug smirk at bay. “You into the bad boy type, sweetheart?”
Your eyes widened before you covered your face with your hand. “Didn’t the time for this pass?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon, tell me, what’s it about him that gets you goin’?”
You shook your head and attempted to suppress your smile. Even though this was embarrassing, you still found Billy cute.
“I’m not doing this with you and that dirty mind of yours. It’s too early. Besides, the girls are still sleeping,” you said, taking a sip of coffee.
“Oh please, Max used to hear me with girls.” He stated it like a fact, without pride or accomplishment in his voice.
“I know. She’s complained to me multiple times,” you said matter-of-factly.
He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing pink. It surprised you.
He shrugged as if to shake off his actions. “Guess Winston and I are different then.”
“That’s not such a bad thing.” You hoped your smile told him that it really wasn’t a bad thing—that you genuinely liked the person he was growing into—that you cared for him.
“Hope so,” he said softly, taking a bite.
You could’ve stayed there and stared at him for the rest of the day. His eyes were so blue, his hair still a bit messy, and he just looked…he just looked content.
You wanted to reach across the table, grab his hand, hold it between yours and trace each finger. Maybe he’d stop you by pulling your hand to his lips. Maybe, you’d follow with your own.
And as soon as that thought reared its head, Max and El strolled into the kitchen.
“You made pancakes?” Max’s face scrunched up.
“We have guests,” Billy said with a shrug. Like he was concerned with being a good host.
At least for you, he was.
“When has that forced you to do anything?” she asked, stacking her plate.
You locked eyes with Billy from across the table and smiled shyly.
“So, you coming here next week?” he asked, putting your bag in the backseat for you.
You shook your head. “It’s at mine next week. Parents are away for a few days. I was thinking of making it an all-weekend thing.”
He slowly nodded, disappointed he wouldn’t see you—only to drop Max off and pick her up.
“Just let me know when I can get the shitbird out of my hair.” It’s all he thought to say to hide his discontentment.
You pursed your lips. It was now or never. “Actually, I was thinking—if you weren’t too busy, maybe you could come over, too? I know it’s technically ‘girls' night,’ but…last night was really nice.”
He tried to keep his face neutral, make it seem like he wasn’t experiencing heart palpitations, but his smile couldn’t stay hidden. It made you immediately relax.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
The way he looked at you sent shivers up your spine and heat through your veins. It was like he couldn’t believe you were real. You’d never seen him have this warmth in his gaze. Like he’d happily follow you anywhere and listen to every word you said.
You returned his smile with a gentle one of your own. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly.
He really was beautiful in the sunlight. His skin full of its own sun. You were so close to each other earlier that you felt it radiating off him. It took everything in you not to rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle in.
He took a step forward, resting a hand on the roof of your car. “You gonna make me sleep on the floor at yours?”
You lightly bit your lip. And fuck, you were in for the best kind of trouble. “Depends on how much you impress me.”
“And what do I have to do to make that happen?” There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.
You tried to repress your smile as you leaned to whisper in his ear. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips. He shivered when your breath hit his skin.
“You’ll have to figure it out.” You pulled back with a little smirk, and he let out a soft chuckle.
His gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips and back again. His hand came up to caress your cheek, grazing his thumb there.
“Not even a little hint?” he asked teasingly.
“Where’s the fun in that?” You pushed your head further into his hand.
He hummed. “Guess you’re right. Have to earn it.”
You grinned. “I have complete faith in you.”
And even though you were both joking with each other, that meant more to him than he would ever admit. You believed in him. You had gotten to know him and helped him through the hardest parts of his life without even knowing it. He wanted to prove to you that trust wasn’t misplaced. That he deserved your patience, your kindness, your love.
Without another thought, he pulled you into his embrace. He held onto you like he was afraid to lose you—like you’d suddenly change your mind and not see him.
You could feel it in the way he held you. You struck something, something crucial, something he needed to hear. So, you hugged him back, smoothing your hand up and down his spine.
When you pulled away, you slipped your hand into his. “I should probably get going.”
He nodded. “Get home safe.”
“Thanks, Billy,” you said. “I’ll see you next week.”
Before you could step around him, he encircled your wrist gently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“See you next week, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk slipping back onto his face.
You shook your head slightly as you climbed into your car, waving to him as you pulled out.
He stood there, watching you drive further away from him. And he knew you two were about to be much much closer.
5K notes · View notes
justice4billiam · 4 months ago
Note
I had this little thought.
Billy always calls you pet names and that’s just the norm because he’s a flirt and then there’s you who never calls him a single cute pet name ever. But one particular day you were like talking to the cat or dog or something and call it a cute nickname only to look up at Billy and see him red in the face because he thought you were talking to him for a second. So you go in for the kill with it and it practically does kill him. So now you only call him that nickname when you truly want to see him squirm
Billy Hargrove x Fem!reader
Word count: 4,152
Warnings: Nothing too bad. Just Billy being Billy. Maybe even a little less of himself actually.
Author’s Note: OMG. I am SO sorry about how long it took me to get this out. I'm such a perfectionist, and for some reason, even as I post this, it doesn't feel all that great, but I hope you like it all the same.
Oh Baby
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Billy Hargrove made a splash from the start.
He came cruising into the small town straight from the sunny shores of California, his cocky attitude and smirking face challenging anyone who crossed his path.
Everyone knew he was too big for a town like this, attracting stares and whispers as naturally as he breathed.
Billy had quickly become known for his flirty nature with the women of Hawkins, his inventory of pet names given with devilish grins and gazes that lingered just a second too long.
Handing them out like candy on Halloween with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
But you?
You were the exception.
You were the challenge he couldn’t quite figure out.
Oh, how he wanted to.
The one girl who didn’t fall, the mystery that kept his mind racing.
You had always kept Billy at a distance, a boundary he seemed determined to cross. His invitations to hang out were met with polite declines, his attempts at conversation answered with noncommittal hums.
It wasn’t that you disliked him, in fact you were very aware of just how attractive he was; you just weren’t interested in being another name on his list.
But Billy was nothing if not persistent, acting like he didn’t even hear you most of the time, taking your rejections as a challenge.
It was on a day when the sky was a clear blue that opportunity knocked on Billy’s door—or rather, your car broke down.
Your car gave up on your way home from work right when you needed it the most, leaving you stranded with the hood open, staring at the engine.
As spring neared its end, the heat had become unbearable already causing sweat to drip down your face as you stood on the side of the road.
And what a coincidence that Billy would drive by, his Camaro growling like a hungry beast.
His car slowed to a stop in the lane, right beside you. Leaning over, he rolls down the passenger window, and peers out with raised brows.
“Need some help, sweetheart?” he enthusiastically calls out, his voice laced with amusement, clearly savoring the unexpected opportunity before him.
The urge to decline was immediate, yet you found yourself hesitating.
Accepting his help meant opening a door you’d fought to keep closed, and you weren’t sure you could take the consequences of letting him in.
But the sun was unforgiving, and your knowledge on cars was practically nonexistent.
That left you with two other choices: a long, lonely ten mile walk home or risk waiting for a stranger’s help, which, given the obvious, seemed like a stupid option.
Billy’s offer, which seemed honest enough, suddenly felt like the lesser evil here.
You gave an exasperated sigh and nodded your head.
“Alright, fine.” You grumbled under your breath.
The sight of Billy's smug grin made you instantly regret your decision as he pulled over a little distance up, and as usual, he looked like a model; his blonde curls blew in the wind as he got out of his car.
He kept his gaze on you, the same cocky look on his face as he boldly adjusted the front of his jeans before approaching.
"Hi." He greets cutely, stopping right in front of you, a little too close for your comfort.
Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you meet his gaze with an even look.
“Billy,” you acknowledge, your tone flat.
You could already tell he was going to be insufferable.
Billy’s grin was all charm as he leaned in.
“Having a bit of a day, are we?” he teased, casually flicking away a strand of hair that clung to your sweaty forehead.
The eye roll was involuntary this time, and without a second thought, you swatted his hand away.
“Are you going to help or are you just going to stand there?” you challenged, taking a step back.
Normally, you wouldn’t let anyone get to you so easily, but he was right—you were indeed having a rough day, and Billy had a knack for being an infuriatingly good pest.
He matched your retreat with a step forward, maintaining the intimate distance.
His gaze was unwavering, a hint of amusement revealing his enjoyment of your obvious annoyance.
Billy inched closer, the trace of a grin on his lips.
“Easy there, sugar,” he hummed, his words a soft whisper against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
As he moved past you, his body grazed yours just enough to leave a faint but unmistakable scent of his cologne—a secret tingle that you tucked away, never to be spoken of.
It was a sensation that you'd have never felt before, one you’d vehemently deny if ever questioned.
“I’ll take a look,” he stated simply, his attention already on the engine.
You paused, taking a deep breath to brace yourself against Billy’s bullshit. You knew he thrived on getting reactions, and you were determined not to give him the satisfaction. Ever.
With a measured step, you leaned in, your gaze fixed over his shoulder. You tried to follow along with his movements but they were a mystery to you.
However, the concern that suddenly showed on Billy’s face was clear.
A sharp breath caught in his throat, his hand freezing mid-motion. It was clear from his expression—whatever he saw, it wasn’t encouraging.
Billy stepped back from the car, and you reached into the backseat, rummaging through the clutter until your fingers found the familiar fabric of an old T-shirt.
“Here,” you offered, holding it out to him. He took it with a nod, wiping the oil from his hands.
“The bad news?” Billy’s started. “Your car’s distributor cap is cracked, and the timing belt’s snapped,” he stated plainly. “It’s not going to start without some work.”
You let out a weary groan, hands instinctively covering your eyes.
Why was the day just getting worse and worse?
This is what you get for leaving work early when they clearly needed you.
Karma really was a bitch.
Billys fingers tried to gently pry yours from your face, but you pulled away, fixing him with a dull glare.
His chuckle was barely there, and the boyish smile that followed was a detail that, despite your better judgment, you found quite charming—even if he was a heartbreaking jerk.
“Look at it this way,” Billy began, a hint of mischief in his voice as he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m pretty good with my hands. We’ll take my ride to the closest phone, call for a tow, and get your car sorted out quick.”
Taking a step toward Billy, your suspicion was clear.
“But why?” you asked, eyes narrowed as you frowned in his direction.
You know what he was like.
He’s in your gym class, usually tough on people, and he doesn’t do special favors. Billy isn’t the type to help out without an angle, and you guessed he might be trying to get on your good side.
But you have never been the type to fall for his bullshit and he knew that.
Billy’s irritation was evident.
He exhaled a deep sigh, his eyes briefly darting to the side before locking onto you with a fiery intensity.
 “Do I need a reason?” he challenged, his tone sharp. “You need the help or not? Because I’m not sticking around if you don’t want it.”
With that, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a practiced flick of his lighter, and quickly pocketed it again.
You rolled your eyes, a combination of frustration and nerves as you clasped your hands together tightly.
 “Uhm—no—I mean, yes!” The words tumbled out in a hurried stutter.
“Sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. Yes, thank you, I could really use the help,” you said, the genuine gratitude finally surfacing despite the awkward exchange.
The hardness in Billy’s eyes seemed to dissolve, replaced by a hint of warmth as he gazed at you. He took a drag from his cigarette, the tension visibly leaving his shoulders.
“Alright,” he sniffed, a trace of his usual flirtatiousness returning. “I’ll get your car fixed. And who knows? Maybe you’ll owe me a drink after this.”
You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Keep dreaming,” you said, the doubt in your voice barely hidden.
He nonchalantly shrugged, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he pushed the hood down with a clunk.
Frowning, you watched him—it was clear that this was his plan all along. It was almost funny how obvious his intentions were.
But you felt like denying his help was a bad choice.
The thought of walking for miles was not at all appealing, and you were actually thankful for his offer to fix the car, knowing it would save you a significant amount on mechanic fees.
You offered a slight nod to Billy’s when his eyes found yours again.
You then walked over to your car, locking it with a deliberate push that made a sharp clicking sound. After ensuring everything was secure, you turned and hesitantly began to walk towards his car.
Billy strides were confident and unhurried, reaching the passenger door of his Camaro before you.
He opened it with a casual flick, the gesture almost too practiced.
You eyed him, the suspicion in your gaze clear as day, but you held your tongue to avoid sparking another tiff.
Instead, you communicated your question with a simple arch of your eyebrow as you took your seat.
As you settled into the passenger seat, Billy’s voice broke the slightly awkward silence, his tone laced with playful arrogance.
“You know, dreams are just plans waiting to happen,” he quipped, the cigarette bobbing with his words.
He flashed a quick, roguish grin as he shut the door, the sound punctuating his words.
You rolled your eyes so far back, you half-expected them to get stuck.
"You're aware of how annoying you are, right?" You couldn't help but remark as you watched him slide into the driver's seat, your eyes unintentionally diverting to his crotch as he adjusted himself.
Billy’s voice was low, a teasing edge to it. “Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you quickly lifted your gaze to his face, feeling your cheeks warm when you’re greeted by that infuriating smirk of his.
"And sure, I might be annoying," he conceded, smirking as he cupped himself through his jeans.
"But deep down, you're into it," he declared with certainty.
You gasped as the heat in your cheeks grew.
Quickly, you averted your gaze to the windshield, the outside world suddenly way more interesting.
He added, "even if you're not willing to admit that yet," his laugh was a low rumble as he capped off his comment by starting the car, the engine rumbling to life assertively.
He was infuriating, no doubt about it. Each smirk, each nonchalant shrug sent waves of annoyance crashing through you. Yet, there was something else, a whisper of a feeling you refused to examine too closely.
But deep down, you were pretty sure it was all a game to him. He didn’t actually like you; he was just chasing a thrill.
And even if you entertained the idea for a second, it would end as soon as you let him in—literally.
The moment he got what he wanted, the momentary excitement would fizzle out, leaving nothing but the echo of your own doubt and a raw, exposed part of you that you really didn’t want to deal with.
Choosing to ignore his advances was the safest bet, even if there was a small, secret part of you that wanted to knock him down a peg.
_______
Billy had kept his word.
The search for a payphone ended at the nearest gas station.
He stepped up to the phone, dialed the tow service, and with a casual strut, he said, “Yeah, I need a tow for my girl’s car. It’s over at Fifth and Lexington.”
You scoffed, your eyes wide with disbelief. His girl’s car? 
The words striking you bizarrely. 
Since when did you become ‘his girl’?
The thought was foolish, and yet, it unsettled you in a way you—again—didn’t want to explore.
But the fact that he knew your address without asking was even more disconcerting. How does he know where you live? 
That question nagged at you, adding to the mystery that was Billy.
He continued to speak into the phone, giving directions with a knowledge that bordered on intimate.
It was strange, yet there was a part of you that couldn’t help but feel a flicker of… something.
At the auto shop, Billy handled the costs with a casual ease, and you were left with a blend of emotions—surprise, a touch of gratitude, and a stubborn refusal to fully acknowledge either.
“It’s all taken care of,” he said, brushing off your attempts to pay him back.
So, as the tow truck pulled up at your house, you were ready this time.
You caught Billy’s eye, giving him a dull glare that said you knew exactly what he was about to do—and you weren’t having it.
With a swift motion, you handed the cash to the driver before Billy could even reach for his wallet.
His attempt to pay was unsuccessful, and the slight raise of your eyebrow made it clear you were the one calling the shots this time.
As the driver and Billy maneuvered the car into your garage, your gaze softened just a fraction, acknowledging his willingness to help, even if his insistence was irritating.
When the tow truck faded into the distance, you spun around to face Billy.
“I told you I could have helped you push it into the garage,” you said, exasperation seeping your words.
Your brows knitted together in a frown, a clear challenge in your eyes.
Billy’s response was a dismissive shrug, his smile unfazed.
“It’s fine,” he said as he shrugged out of his jean jacket and placed it in his front seat, his grin took on a teasing quality.
“Honestly, we’d still be out there on the side of the road if I waited for your help,” he joked, his voice light but edged with a playful tone.
Your gasp was reflexive, but the giggle that followed was more girlish than you expected, a sound that surprised you as much as the gentle smack you landed on his arm.
“I could’ve managed just fine on my own,” you countered, the roll of your eyes softening into something that felt dangerously close to affection.
He gave you a look that said he didn’t believe a word, but his nod was indulgent.
“Sure, sure,” he agreed, his smile broadening in a way that made your heart do an unexpected somersault.
Billy carried his tools from his trunk, his smirk sarcastic.
“Gonna watch me work, cutie?” he quipped, the playful edge in his voice clear. “I sure don’t mind an audience.”
You rolled your eyes, a response that had become all too common throughout the day and trailed after him into the garage.
“You’re insufferable, honestly, Hargrove,” you grumbled, though the annoyance was starting to wear thin.
He tossed a look back, his grin unwavering.
“But you wouldn’t have it any other way,” he teased, setting down his tools with a positive thud that resonated in the quiet garage.
Dragging a crate from the cluttered corner of the garage, you made yourself a makeshift seat. From this new vantage point, slightly off to the side, you watched Billy work.
The day was turning out to be pretty different.
Billy’s usual flirty jokes had a new feel to them, like he was actually trying to connect with you.
And seeing him with his hands in the car’s engine, he seemed to fit right in. It was strange to see him as more than just the guy who’s always either making a rude comment or trying too hard to charm you. Now, he was actually being helpful and knew his stuff. It was nice to see him like this, more real and down-to-earth.
As you kept an eye on him, you felt your annoyance start to slip away, and you began to see him in a fresh way.
It wasn’t a dramatic change, but it was real.
Billy was still Billy, but the good parts were starting to stand out more.
You just hoped that this nicer side of him wasn’t just an act.
With a dramatic sigh, you shoved your thoughts aside and stood up.
Despite your best efforts to avoid it all day, you found yourself heading straight into the very thing you had been trying to dodge.
“You want a drink?” The words came out softer than you intended, as you walked toward the door in the garage that led to the house.
Billy’s grunt drifted up from under the hood, his hands surely doing something important. Timing belt, maybe you mused, though your knowledge of car parts was very much limited to where the gas goes.
Heading into the kitchen, you actually felt thankful for your mom’s hospital shift this time.
It saved you from having to explain the boy in the garage.
The house was quiet, just the way you liked it. You weren’t lonely; you enjoyed your own company.
Sure, you hung out with school friends occasionally, but the calm of being on your own was something you cherished, even with your mom’s frequent work hours.
You took two Cokes from the fridge, their cans chilling your fingers.
As you returned to the garage, you paused to watch Billy.
Without his usual guarded demeanor, he seemed more genuine, almost endearing. 
He’s actually pretty decent like this, you thought, a quiet hum escaped your lips as you turned on the radio, filling the space with soft rock melodies.
Billy’s look caught you off guard, and warmth flooded your cheeks.
“What?” you asked, turning just enough to keep your blush from view.
His smile was soft, uncharacteristic.
“Nothing. You just have a nice voice, doll,” he said, his tone carrying a note of authenticity as he turned back to his work.
“Thanks,” you said quietly, placing his Coke by his tools, and sat down on your crate.
A small smile lingered on your face, enjoying the surprisingly comfortable presence between Billy and you.
You just sat there for a bit, humming along with the radio.
You tried not to make it obvious that you were watching Billy work, but he’s probably caught you staring. 
Every now and then, you’d catch him looking your way too. You didn’t say anything about it, though.
It was kind of nice, just being there together without needing to fill the space with chatter.
Your gaze drifted to the street when you felt a gentle pressure against your leg.
Startled at first, you quickly relaxed when you saw it was Pepper, your cat. The door must not have closed all the way behind you.
She rubbed against your leg once more, seeking attention.
“Come here, my baaaby,” you drawled, the word stretching out affectionately.
You picked her up and she immediately began to purr, content in your arms.
Billy’s movements paused, and he looked up, the late afternoon sun highlighting the surprise in his eyes.
The nickname had clearly caught him off guard, and a blush—a deep, rich shade you’d never seen—bloomed across his cheeks.
THE Billy Hargrove, always so sure of himself, now blushing and speechless.
He must have thought you were talking to him.
You couldn’t help but savor the moment, seeing the unshakeable Billy at a rare loss for words, all because of you.
With Pepper cradled in your arms, you rose to your feet, a newfound confidence lifting your stance.
You took a step toward Billy, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper.
“What’s wrong, Baby? Never had a girl talk sweet to you before?”
The nickname now felt like a playful taunt, a subtle shift in power as you watched him grapple with the unexpected role reversal.
Billy’s answer was a fumble, his words tripping over each other in a way you’d never heard before.
“I—uh, that’s not… I mean…” he faltered, his cheeks a deeper shade of red.
Witnessing Billy, always so sure and smug, searching for words was a delight you didn’t know you needed.
The smirk that spread across your face was instinctive, almost predatory.
“Don’t worry, baby,” you cooed, your head nodding slowly in feigned understanding. “I think I get it now.” The words hung in the air, heavy with implication and sweet victory.
Billy shook his head, his smile genuine and a bit surprised.
“Now that’s just not fair, doll,” he finally said, the words tinged with a hint of admiration.
He turned back to the car, his hands resuming their work under the hood.
You leaned in, a playful edge to your voice.
“Now you know how it feels for the rest of the female population.”
The sound of his laughter was unexpected, something you don’t think you’ve ever actually heard before, but you liked the sound of it.
A lot.
Billy’s voice was muffled by the engine.
“Wow, you’re actually fun,” he said, a note of surprise in his tone.
That drew a scoff from you.
“What made you think I wasn’t?” you retorted, setting Pepper inside and ensuring the door was firmly shut this time.
He looked up, giving you a look that was both accusing and playful.
“Well, it’s not like you talk to me, sweetheart. You usually act like I don’t exist,” he shrugged.
He had a point.
“Well—yeah…” you conceded, feeling a bit awkward as you rubbed your arm.
“I’m sorry for that. I just thought you were being nice because… well…” You trailed off, your eyes darting away as you felt your face heat up.
Billy exhaled, a note of understanding in his voice. “That’s fair.”
The casual admission made your eyebrows shoot up.
He continued, wiping his hands on a rag, “But I actually wanted to get to know you. Still do.” His words, simple and unexpected.
You took a moment to process his words. Could he be serious? After today, you found yourself hoping so.
This side of Billy was… different, likable even.
Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, you ventured, “I think I might want that too.”
Then, hastily, you added, “But I’m not sleeping with you!” just to set the record straight.
Billy’s smirk was anything but innocent as he nodded.
You shoved your hands into your back pockets, and for a moment, you both just stood there, silently assessing each other.
Then, his smile grew.
“I’m done here. Wanna try starting it up?” he asked, gesturing to the car.
“Oh! Yeah,” you said, a bit startled by the sudden change of topic.
You fished out your keys and climbed into the driver’s seat.
The key turned, the engine purred to life, and a rush of happiness bubbled up inside you.
You hopped out and, without thinking, wrapped Billy in a spontaneous hug.
“Woo, thank you, baby!” you shouted, the excitement making you bold.
Billy froze for a split second, the nickname catching him off guard, but then he relaxed and returned the hug, a chuckle escaping him.
Your own reaction caught up with you, and you pulled back, a blush coloring your cheeks.
“Oh—Billy—I meant Billy,” you corrected, but the moment had already passed.
Billy’s hands lingered on your waist, his smile soft but playful.
“I don’t know. I think I like ‘baby’ better,” he teased, his eyebrows lifting in a challenge and his eyes twinkling as they swept across your face.
You lowered your head, hiding from his intense stare.
“Oh, whatever,” you muttered, stepping back until his arms fell away.
You sighed, eyeing him again.
“But really, thank you,” you said with a nod. “I was this close to attacking the engine with a bat before you showed up.”
Billy chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.
“Ah, it’s no big deal, princess,” he said, trying to act nonchalant. “Plus, I got to spend the day with the prettiest girl around. So, yeah, worth it.”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you saw his smile turn a shade more devilish at the sight of your blush.
Billy lingered there for a moment before he picked up his toolbox.
“Well, I should go,” he said, a note of hesitation in his voice.
You nodded, a quiet “Bye” escaping your lips, but as he neared his Camaro, a thought struck you.
“Wait, Billy!” you called out hastily.
He turned, a question in his eyes.
“What about that drink, baby?” you added, the last word emphasized with a mix of challenge and playfulness.
He paused, the blush on his cheeks visible even from a distance, but his smirk was undiminished.
“Eight it is, baby,” he replied, his voice carrying back to you with a hint of laughter.
As he got into his car and drove off, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.
Maybe Billy wasn’t so bad after all.
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