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dazedandconfused-15 · 8 months ago

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Heaven's in your eyes (Part 1)

This is to answer a request I received from an anonymous user a couple of months ago “Billy asks shy reader out and is protective over her”, for some reason I can't directly respond to their post still getting used to Tumblr. Sorry for taking a while to write this one. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away and turned it into a short fic, I just loved the whole concept. I’ll definitely post a part 2. Comments and constructive opinions are always appreciated 🩷

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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You have always watched him from a distance.

There was something magnetic about him. Where he was, energy swirled.

You have never spoken to him. He’s something inaccessible to you. He hangs out with the popular crowd. Yet, unlike all of them, he doesn’t seem to pretend. He doesn’t show off. He naturally exudes an aura that makes him alluring. He’s not just what could be called "hot." No, he’s beautiful. When you first saw him in the school hallways, you could swear that for a second, your heart stopped. He was playing with his lighter, walking with an assured stride in the direction of his classroom with Jason Carver. He was a palette of contrasting colors that stood out in perfect harmony. His tanned face was framed by long, golden curls that almost fell over his shoulders. He looked straight ahead as he listened to the boy at his side with his red mouth stretched into a smirk that revealed white teeth. His cupid bow was dusted with stubble. It was no surprise that most of the girls looked at him with no shame, the shyest ones glancing up as soon as he passed them. That California boy did not look like a boy. He looked like a man. You could tell by the way he was built, the black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the muscular legs in his denim jeans.

You had realized that you were staring openly at him when he passed by you and, probably feeling the weight of your gaze on him, his eyes had met yours. There, something had happened inside you. His eyes were the purest blue you had ever seen. They were crystalline. But it was the long dark lashes that gave his gaze something expressive and unique. They were the embodiment of what is called a piercing gaze. It was a unique paradox: as angelic as it was rough in outline. Awakening from your enchantment, you lowered your gaze with an abrupt jerk of your head and resumed putting your books away in the locker, feeling your cheeks on fire and your heart beating wildly.

That was the only time you had even a remote semblance of contact with him.

As you rush to your English literature class a month later, rounding the corner of the hallway, the last thing you expect is to bump into him. You let out an "ouch" as you collide with his hard chest, your notes and pencil case tumbling to the ground in the chaos. It's only when you raise your eyes in a flurry of apologies that you realize who you've bumped into. You swallow, kneeling and picking up your notes hastily.

"You alright?"

"Yes. Yes." the notes slip through your shaking fingers.

His hands appear in your field of vision, and when you accidentally touch them, an electric shock almost makes you wince. He helps you pick them up, then raises to his feet and holds them to you. You thank him, thinking about what else you could say to avoid making the situation awkward. His baby blue shirt matches the color of his eyes. He’s even prettier from closer.

"We’re in History class together, right?

His question surprises you. You didn't think he would remember you. You didn't think he would notice you.

"Yes. That's right."

He holds out his hand, his heavy-lidded gaze on you. "Billy."

You shake his hand, introducing yourself. His hand is large and his grip his firm, but gentle at the same time. That touch makes your stomach tangle. You can't believe he is talking to you.

"You're new, right?" you ask. You know fully well that he arrived here a month ago. You know full well that he is from California. He probably knows that you know, but he doesn't say anything about it

"Yes. Moved here last month."

“Oh, okay. Welcome to Hawkins, then.” you say gently as you absently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence, him probably waiting for you to say something else. You point at the door down the hallway, starting to walk away. “I ah, I have to go to class. Sorry.”

And you walk away, no, you scurry away, almost escaping him, feeling a pang of embarrassment as you replay the scene later in your head, regretting how abruptly you left without saying more.

You don’t cross paths with him again after that. However, you are clearly more aware of his presence during history classes even though you don’t interact again.

In recent months, you've adopted a strategy of minimizing your visibility as much as possible. It’s not always easy. That Thursday is one of the hard days. Mr. Jensen, the new history teacher, makes his way through the rows of desks, collecting permission slips signed by parents for the upcoming day trip he has organized to Indianapolis.

"Ah, I don't seem to have your permission slip yet," he inquires gently as he sees you empty-handed. "Did you forget to bring it today?"

Feeling the eyes of everyone on you, your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. You hate all of this attention on you. "I, um, I haven't been able to get it signed yet. My dad's been working double shifts, and I haven't caught him at home."

“I understand,” the teacher says, “But I need to give all the signed papers to the principal by tomorrow. Is it possibly to get it signed today? By your mother, perhaps?”

Before you could answer, Tommy Hagan's voice pierces the air, his tone laced with mockery. "She's probably halfway across the country by now, cozying up with some other guy."

You don’t even turn to look at him. You saw it coming. It’s been five months since she left now. Hawkins is a small town, so the news spread quickly. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact with your classmates as you feel the weight of their curious gazes.

"I uh...I just," you try to ignore Tommy's comment, resting your eyes on the professor whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell my dad tonight. He's just been really busy. I will bring it to class tomorrow."

“If he comes back with the milk.” snickers Tommy.

You stiffen instantly without wanting to, which the teacher doesn’t fail to notice.

“That's enough, Mr. Hagan. Comments like that have no place in my classroom.” he snaps as his eyes darken, his jaw set. His expression softens as he turns to you. “Don't worry about the permission slip for now. We'll make sure you're included."

As the professor returns to his seat, your eyes remain fixed on the spot where the desk is chipped, absently touching it with your fingernail. Your body fails to relax as you fight to ignore the burning in your throat, careful not to blink, your vision blurred for a few moments. But Tommy's yelp draws your attention and you turn your head to your left, where he is sitting next to Billy.

“What was that for, man?”

Tommy is rubbing his shoulder, his face scrunched up in pain and a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face. Billy stares straight ahead, his face cold and hard.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he eventually mutters under the teacher’s explanation. However, it sounds more like a statement than a question.

As you go back to stare at your desk, your throat is still burning but your vision is clear again. You wonder if what Billy said was because of Tommy's comments. Why would he defend you?

The rest of the class passes in a blur of confusion and unanswered questions. Tommy's hurtful words echo in your mind, leaving you shaken and upset, the sting of their cruelty lingering long after the bell rings.

***

On the morning of the school trip, you are tempted to call the school and say you are sick, but your father comes back from the plant later in the morning and will see that you are actually fine. Also, Mr. Jensen might suspect that something is going on. Only, the idea of spending the day with the whole class, but feeling more alone than you are when you're at school, doesn't appeal to you. You've never been very outgoing. Since your mother left, the armor that covered you has only thickened, alienating you from the rest of the world. To this day you have received no answers. She left overnight without warning. You never received a call. You knew that things had not been going well between your parents for some time. Or rather, your mother kept complaining about how being in Hawkins was suffocating her, how she was no longer happy. The pain was slowly becoming coated with resentment. She had abandoned you and your father as if nothing had happened, as if years of living together had counted for nothing. As if being a family had cost nothing. Arriving on the ground floor and finding the kitchen light off had now become a habit, not an odd occurrence. Other things had become routine: the unaccustomed silence in your house, the TV once perpetually on now always off, the teapot once always in use was now in the kitchen drawer.

Once on the school bus, you spend your time looking out the window and counting the trees on the distant hills. You can feel the wind blowing outside, the rain pelting cruelly on the window. A crack lets a trickle of air through, making you shiver and clench tighter in your jacket. The ride at least passes quietly, no one talking to you or bothering you. Tommy Hagan keeps his comments to himself, too busy jabbering in the back of the bus with his band of friends. You can hear the occasional shrillness in the voice of Carol Perkins, his girlfriend.

You spend almost the entire morning in the Indiana Historical Society, following the professor through the corridors of the museum. You stay in the background, drowning out the guide's voice and looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. As you change rooms, you realize that you are not the only one who has remained aloof. Billy Hargrove lingers to your side at the back of the row of students, his hands tucked into his leather jacket. You try not to be affected by his presence, suddenly self-conscious of the way you walk and breathe. You still remember what he told Tommy Hagan the week before. You are increasingly convinced that he defended you. As the class spreads in different directions, everyone observing something different and speaking lowly in small groups you realize he’s still here, on your side. As you ponder if you should say something, or just assume that he’s walking behind on his own, he catches you off guard.

“Kinda boring, huh?”

“Yeah, a little," you respond, offering him a small smile that probably looks like a grimace. "History isn't my cup of tea."

“Mine neither,” his gaze scans the display cases lining the wall on your left. “Beats being seated all day in class, though.”

“Definitely,” you nod in agreement as you slowly cross through another room. Desperately trying to fill the silence, you come up with the first thing that crosses your mind. “I’ve been here before.”

“The museum?”

“Indianapolis,” you say. You hesitate before finishing your thoughts. “My grandma lived here. I spent some weekends at hers.”

Billy hums. He sniffs, then retrieves some chewing gums from his back pocket. He unwraps one. “How’s the city?”

“It’s great. Oh, thank you.” you softly say as you take the gum he’s offering you. “There are some nice parks.”

He pops the chewing gum in his mouth. “We have quite a few in San Diego too.

You turn toward him, curiosity overcoming your shyness. “You lived in San Diego?”

“Yes. Big change of scenery.”

“I can imagine.” your gaze wanders to the antique objects displayed in a glass case. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks incredible.” memories of your dad's album, from when he was young, flood your mind – images of palm trees swaying in the breeze, golden beaches stretching for miles, and endless blue skies that seemed to merge seamlessly with the ocean.

“That’s something else, yeah. Honestly, I couldn’t complain at all.”

“I wish I could see California,” you say a little dreamily.

“I can take you one day.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. So you let out a nervous giggle, avoiding his gaze, assuming he is joking. Fortunately, the professor calls your attention back. It's lunchtime and he tells you that you are free to go wherever you want, as long as you are outside the museum within four hours. You told your father the school would pay for the student's lunch because you know times are tough. He insisted on giving you ten dollars in case you need it.

You walk down the steps of the museum looking around and thinking about where you could make all this time go. It's going to be long. You know a few restaurants, but you know that your pocket money is clearly not enough to eat there. A gust of wind brings the smell of smoke to your nostrils, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy stop beside you. His eyes take in your surroundings.

“So, you told me you know the city.”

“Huh, yes,” you answer, a little lost. “Not all of it, but most of it, like downtown.”

Billy exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth. “Are we downtown?”

You look around, recognizing the skyscrapers in the distance. "Yes," you point to the skyline to your right, figuring he simply wants to ask you for information so he knows where to go with his friends. "It's over there."

“Sweet. You hungry?”

The silence that passes between the two of you makes him turn toward you, waiting for your response. So you rush to answer, ignoring the way his piercing blue eyes make you feel self-conscious.

“Yes. Yes, a little bit,” then you ask him, unsure: “...are you?”

“Starving.” he resumes walking down the stairs again, and you follow him, trying to figure out if he really means what you think he means. Some classmates are already leaving in different directions. “You know someplace to eat?”

“I do. But I don’t have enough. In case you want to go together. If that’s what you were offering.” You add, mentally slapping yourself. Why does everything you say have to come across as weird? Besides, you just admitted that you are practically out of money. “I can show you, though.”

Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.”

“No, really, I can't let you do that," you insist, your voice tinged with concern. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I can't just let you pay for me."

Billy turns to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he exhales the smoke sideways. "Come on, it's no big deal," he reassures you. "Consider it my way of saying thanks for showing me around. Besides, it's not like I'm short on cash."

You hesitate for a moment. But ultimately, you know that accepting his offer would ease the burden on your wallet. With a resigned sigh, you nod in agreement. "Okay, if you insist," you concede, offering him a small smile. "But just this once.”

You wanna immediately grimace at your pathetic implication that there would be another time, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice anyway.

He just winks at you. And even if he’s not smiling or anything, it still makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way."

As you walk beside each other through the park later on, you relish in what surrounds you, not even realizing the silence that has settled between the two of you because it feels so natural. Some people are jogging, there are some families too, or people walking alone headed who knows where. The birds are chirping in the trees that are alongside the walk. You spot a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of one of them, its fluffy tail waving wildly. The late afternoon sun is shining right in front of you, hitting your skin in a gentle caress. Spring is gradually unfurling its colors, bringing with it a glimmer of warmth that has been absent from your life lately. In the midst of the cold and desolation that settled in after your mother's departure, this glimpse of light offers a tentative promise of renewal, a small beacon of hope amid the darkness that has enveloped you and your father. You glance at Billy, realizing that in the short span of your conversation, he's frequently reached for a cigarette. Yet, even during the moments when he abstained, like in the museum and at the restaurant, his mouth was never empty. It was either occupied by a mint, a bite of burger, the straw of his milkshake, or eventually a toothpick found on the table.

“So, uhm, have you been somewhere else besides San Diego or Hawkins?” you venture.

“Nope”, he answers, the “p” resounding loudly. He looks around, one hand in his jacket pocket as the other one holds the cigarette on his side. “Never moved from Cali. I was born in Santa Barbara. Then moved to San Diego when I was ten.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Is Santa Barbara close to the ocean?”

“It is. I’ve always lived by the ocean.”

You turn to him, enthusiasm laced in your voice as you get carried away in the conversation. “So you know how to surf?”

Billy chuckles, nodding as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “I do, yeah. Surfed every day.”

“Wow.” you breathe, your mind wandering away. “It must be…like an adrenaline rush.”

As Billy exhales the smoke, you don’t miss the nostalgic glint flickering in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. "Yeah, it's something else. There's nothing quite like catching a wave, feeling the power of the ocean beneath you."

“I’ve heard it’s hard to learn.” you muse softly.

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps punctuates the conversation. Billy stays silent for a few seconds, probably lost in his thoughts. Then he shrugs. “To be honest, I was on the surfboard since I was a child, so must’ve been natural for me. But yeah, it generally is.

“I can only imagine," you respond, a sense of longing in your voice. You’ve only seen this kind of landscape in pictures or on TV. "Must have been amazing growing up with that kind of freedom."

Billy's sigh is loud as he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It was. Surfing was my escape, you know? Whenever things got tough, I could just grab my board and disappear into the waves."

What he says lightens some curiosity in you. You wonder what he means by that. You wonder what he went through, what his past was like. There’s something really intriguing about him. But you refrain from asking more, aware of how little you know each other. Besides, you can’t help but notice the little twitch of his jaw muscles as he says it.

"It’s always been books for me.” you offer. “They have this way of transporting you to another world, making you forget about everything else."

Billy nods in understanding. “What kinda books you read?”

“Oh,” you look at your shoes as you feel suddenly vulnerable. You almost feel ashamed of your taste in books, but you know you shouldn’t. “A bit of everything, really. I’m reading a Dostoevsky one right now.

“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff.”

“You’ve read some of him before?

“I read Dream of a Ridiculous Man. A long time ago though.”

“Oh,” you breathe, recalling how challenging it was to finish it when you read it a couple of months ago. Reading books by Dostoevsky, especially that one, has been both a cathartic and enlightening experience. They made you feel less alone in your pain. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda controversial.” he grimaces. “It’s a fucking depressing book. But... it's like... there's something about it that just... resonates, you know what I mean? Like, you read it and... it's like looking into a mirror, but... the reflection's all twisted and weird. I don't know if that makes any sense.” he shrugs.

It couldn’t make more any sense to you. For the first time, you feel understood in that sense. It's a relief to know that you're not alone in finding meaning within its pages. His words resonate deeply with you.

“I totally get it. That’s part of the reason why I like his books.”

The subtle revelation hangs in the air with the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the concrete path. You hope he’s not reflecting on your words too much, aware of what you’ve implied. Your own thoughts go on what he said. Why did Billy resonate so much with the book? What if there’s something everybody can relate to, even people who haven’t experienced anything bad in life?

“You?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”

“Born and raised.” you nod. Then you add, a bit sheepishly: “Nothing like California, unfortunately.”

Billy snorts, flicking his cigarette. “What’s there to do in summer?”

“Oh uh. Nothing much. We have a public pool.” you offer, looking at him.

Billy takes a drag, his eyes trailing on the path in front of both of you.

“We have Lover’s Lake too,” you add. “It’s quite nice, actually. People spend the day there and have barbecues or campfires.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that one,” he says. “You guys party by the lake during summer or something like that.”

“Yes.” then you keep quiet for a few breaths, imagining he’s probably heard it from one of his friends from the basketball team. They’re usually to host parties or organize them. It always involves loads of alcohol and ends up in big scandals. You feel the urge to correct him. “Not me, though. I don’t, uh…I don’t party.”

You feel his eyes on you. “Makes sense.”

You look up at him in question.

“Didn’t see you at the Halloween party.”

“The one hosted by Tina Williams?” you soon look away as soon as you meet his gaze. “I didn’t know you…you noticed.”

“Would’ve sure as hell noticed if you were there.”

As Billy's words settle in, you feel a warmth spreading through you, starting from the tips of your ears and flushing your cheeks crimson. His simple compliment catches you off guard, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within you. You find yourself struggling to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering away as you search for some semblance of composure. None of this makes sense. The mere fact that he recognized your absence at the party, that he shared lunch with you, that he's now walking beside you in the park—it all feels inexplicable. You're accustomed to blending into the background, being an outcast in the bustling halls of the school. You're no stranger to the whispers that swirl around you, painting you as the outsider, the comments about your situation at home, the subtle jabs at your circumstances. The silence between you stretches, pregnant with unspoken thoughts.

“You alright?” you hear him ask.

You slow down, lingering to a stop as you realize Billy has stopped walking too. He looks down at you with a hint of curiosity, the sun caressing his golden skin and reflecting in his eyes, becoming like polished, crystalline gems. That’s when you notice little details you haven’t paid attention to before. The scar cutting through his right eyebrow, the pattern of freckles dusting his nose.

“I guess I’m just a little confused,” you admit.

Billy exhales the smoke from his nostrils, his gaze effortlessly fixed intensely on you. “Why is that?”

“I just…” you try to not avoid his gaze. “Why are you here with me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and what looks like genuine confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

His question is so simple it takes you off guard. Makes you question your reasoning. As you’re at a loss for words, you feel a blush slowly creeping down your cheeks.

Billy’s lips slowly curve into a smile, somewhat teasing. “You really have pretty eyes, you know that?”

You’re positively sure you’re as red as a lobster now, a little whine escaping your lips as embarrassment settles over you. It’s the most instinctual reaction. It makes him chuckle, and makes you awkwardly laugh in response, because what else can you do? He tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your avoiding eyes.

“How about that? I’m here with you ‘cause of your pretty eyes”.

“I really don’t think they’re that special.” you shake your head, still laughing.

You’re not that innocent to not realise he’s openly flirting with you. You’re not surprised, because just looking at him is enough. You’ve also heard things about him and some girls at high school. What surprises you, is that he’s flirting with you. You don’t have that much experience in the love department, but there’s something sincere and genuine in the way he’s doing it now. There’s something soft in his eyes that tells you he’s sincere.

“Well, it’s a shame,” he says, that’s when you realise how much closer you are to each other. You can tell by how you can smell the tobacco and his cologne, his silver earring shining as it catches the sun. He tilts his head again, this time catching your gaze as you muster the courage to lock eyes with him. “’Cause you have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, nodding your head slightly. You swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

You feel like you want to return the compliment because his eyes are the reason why your heart is reacting the way it does. But then again, you’re too shy to do that, and a tiny part of you thinks it would make things weird or would end up having you vulnerable because you don’t know for sure if his compliment is fueled by real interest in you.

“I just don’t hang out with anyone, trust me.”

As a distant church bells toll four times, their echoes drifting across the park, a subtle reminder of the passing time washes over you both. The realization settles in that it’s time for you to go. You should be back in front of the museum in half an hour.

Luckily, Billy saves you from answering as he breaks eye contact and looks up beyond your shoulder, where the church is. “We should go,” he says.

As you walk back to the museum, you think about his words. Now you realize that you didn’t see him hanging around Tommy Hagan lately. In particular, today on the bus, the latter was seated with his girlfriend and hung out with two other members of the basketball team. Billy was somewhere else the whole time.

When you two reach the museum, the teacher is already counting everyone to make sure the whole class is there. Billy joins his mates, elbowing one of them in a friendly gesture. You didn’t fail the notice the looks most of your classmates shot at you when he saw you two arrive together. The teacher draws the class's attention back to the trip, prompting feedback and reflections from everyone.

What you don’t expect either once on the bus, is feeling someone sitting on the empty seat next to yours. Billy gets comfortable, making it seem something so normal as he stretches his long legs as far as the cramped quarters allow. His thigh brushes against yours and your heart jumps a little in your ribcage, but a few minutes later you start to relax. You can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest as you take in his choice to sit deliberately next to you. You don’t need to fill the silence, or at least not as strongly as a few hours ago. You’re also quite tired. As you venture a glance in his direction, Billy’s eyes are closed. It seems you’re not the only one feeling tired. His arms are crossed over his chest but his facial features are totally relaxed now that he’s dozing off, his head resting against the seat. His hair seems soft at the touch, a curl falling unruly on his forehead. You feel the distant urge to wrap it around your finger, brush it from his face. There is a difference between now and when he’s fully awake: his expression softened, his gaze peaceful, and his features relaxed. It's a stark contrast from the demeanor you've observed from a distance, where his smile is more wolfish, his facial muscles tense, and his eyes often distant or bored. You force yourself to look away from him, setting your gaze on the window. As the rhythmic hum of the bus lulls you into a state of drowsiness, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the moment envelops you, and soon, you find yourself dozing off as well.

Once you get off the bus, you wrap your arms around your waist as you shiver. The weather is distinctly different. It seems to have been raining all day. The sky is darkening. School buses cannot take you home because there is no bus stop near your house. Forest Hill Trailer Park is in the isolated part of Hawkins. There is no one from the high school living there, so you can't ask anyone for a ride. It's not like anyone would have offered anyway. You've always walked to and from school, in total it takes you forty minutes. As you start to walk away from the bus, you hear footsteps behind you and Billy is at your side, effortlessly catching up with you. You realize his car is parked a few steps away from you. The gleaming navy blue Camaro stands out among the other cars, ‘CALIFORNIA’ on the license plate.

You take the opportunity to thank him before he can dart away and you will probably never exchange another word again.

“Hey,” you start, turning to look at him. “I just wanted to thank you for paying at lunch today.”

Billy plays with the lighter, making it bounce in his hand. “It’s nothing. How are you getting home?”

“Oh, I’m walking.” you point your thumb at the road on your left.

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Your mouth opens and closes stupidly, then your brain finally decides to cooperate. Accepting his offer feels like taking advantage of his kindness. You don't want to do this. “I…it’s not a long walk, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s probably gonna rain soon.” he points at the sky, walking past you and toward the parked car.

“You don’t have to.” you insist, guilt filling my stomach as he opens the passenger door for you.

“I know.” he chuckles.

The soft thrumming of a rock song fills the air, the bass pulsing gently as Billy lowers the volume as soon as he turns the engine on. The interior of the Camaro envelops you in a world that feels distinctly his. The smell of leather fills your senses, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne. It's clear that he takes immense pride in his car and the care and attention he devotes to it reflects on the interior. The leather seats feel soft and smooth. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corners. A pair of aviators rests on the dashboard.

You give him directions, your voice cutting through the quiet ambiance of the car. He nods in acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the road ahead. His left arm casually drapes against the window, while his other hand firmly grasps the top of the steering wheel.

“It’s quite a walk,” he observes as the Camaro speeds through the road surrounded by the woods.

“Yeah…”

You’re thinking of asking him to stop before getting to Forest Hill, but it’s pouring and you don’t have an umbrella. As you get closer and closer, anxiety starts rippling through you. You shake the feeling out of your head. You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Additionally, you barely know him. You try and distract yourself, asking him about where he lives instead.

“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?”

“Yes, it’s a nice and quiet area. It’s not that far from school either,” you observe.

Billy absently scratches his chin, the glint of a silver braided ring catching your eye. “Yeah. It’s quiet, that’s for sure.”

You find yourself wondering about its significance. Does it have one? You've heard numerous accounts of Billy's involvement in fights at parties, tales of the severe injuries sustained by those who crossed him, and the ferocity of his punches. How many times has that ring been tainted with someone else's blood? Despite the rumors surrounding his aggressive behavior, your interactions with Billy have always been positive. He's consistently shown kindness to you.

Billy turns left, veering off the main road onto a narrow side road, the tires crunching on the gravelly dirt path that winds its way towards Forest Hills. The rain drums insistently against the car, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence between you.

The first trailer emerges into view, its weather-beaten exterior casting a shadow of foreboding over your already uneasy mind. Despite your discomfort, you muster the courage to speak up, directing Billy to continue driving until the end of the road.

You steal a furtive glance at him, searching for any hint of judgment in his expression, but Billy remains impassive. There's no trace of surprise or disdain in his features. His gaze lingers on the scene before you, studying it with a detached curiosity that seems to characterize his view of Hawkins as a whole.

“Thanks again for today, really. I wanna pay you back,” you venture as he slows down.

Billy waves a dismissive hand before settling it on the gear shift, smoothly transitioning into first gear. “I told you it’s no big deal. Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

You worry at your lip, still not totally convinced. You glance at him. “I know that. But it doesn’t sound fair. It’s important to me.”

Billy's gaze shifts to the road ahead as he seemingly considers your words. "If you really wanna make it up to me," he starts, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continues, "How about you show me around Hawkins sometime?"

You blink, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Show you around Hawkins?"

"Yeah," he nods, resting his forearm loosely on the steering wheel as he gestures while he talks. "I've only been here a short while, and I don't really know my way around outside downtown yet. Like, all the places you talked to me about. The lake, the quarry."

The idea appeals to you, though the thought of spending more time with him outside of school never crossed your mind. The fact of spending time with him in the first place was out off the charts for you. "Sure, I could do that," you reply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I mean, I'm not exactly a tour guide, but I could show you some cool spots. Whenever you want, uhm. Yeah.”

Billy reaches out to the compartment on the passenger side, brushing your knee with his arm. He opens it and extracts a pen.

“Here,” he takes off the cap with his teeth, and before you know it he’s taking your arm, gently lifting your sweater sleeve.

You try to look unfazed by his touch, though the feeling of his fingertips pressing gently against your skin as he holds your forearm, the sensation of the pen as he writes something on it makes you shiver, raising goosebumps. You look at him in silent confusion as he writes, his dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sharp canine as he holds the cap between them. Then he releases your arm, and you take a look at it while he takes the cap from his mouth. A series of numbers are written in blue ink on your skin. A phone number.

“Oh.” you say softly. You definitely haven’t expected that.

“Call me when you feel like it.”

It’s really hard for you to hide your nervousness, acting as cool as you can.

“Okay, will do.” you unbuckle your belt, glancing at him enough to give him a soft smile.

Billy nods at you in silent farewell before you close the passenger door. “Have a good night”.

“You too. Bye.”

The warmth of Billy's presence lingers in the car as you step out into the cool, damp air, the raindrops falling softly around you. Closing the door behind you, you watch as the sleek navy blue Camaro disappears down the little road and into the woods from the small window of the living room. As you stand there, the drops of water falling from the end of your hair, you can't help but brush at the phone number on your forearm, tracing the neat handwriting with your fingertips. It's like you're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. Though you're trying to keep it under control, you can't help the fluttering feeling in your heart.

#billy hargove imagine #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #billy hargove x reader #stranger things fic #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #dacryphilia #eddie munson #billy hargrove x y/n #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x you #stranger things smut

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keeryhours · 17 days ago

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how do i live without you? - billy hargrove

Billy Hargrove x female! Reader, some platonic Steve Harrington x Reader

Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

An accidental pregnancy turns your world upside down, but losing your boyfriend and having to go through it without him? Things couldn’t be worse.

Warnings:

S3 spoilers, angst, Billy’s death, pregnancy, grief, depression, labor and birth

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N:

This is a scenario that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and I’m always thinking about Billy and making myself emotional. I really hope you enjoy. Requests open <3

—

The feeling that went through your heart and body when you saw the two lines on that test was something you would never forget.

It was pure fear, panic, shock, sadness, and also awe. You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do, or if Billy was even going to stick around to find out.

The thought of being pregnant and having a baby was terrifying in general, but the thought of doing it alone was even scarier.

You held that secret close to your chest for a week. You wanted to wait for the perfect time to tell Billy, but that time never came. You never stopped being terrified, your stomach was never not in knots when you were around him. He noticed something was up, and he kept trying to get you to tell him, but you’d brush it off.

It became an issue when he wanted you to come with him to a party at Tommy’s house. You didn’t think anything of it at first, agreeing to go without hesitation like any other time. You felt stupid (maybe you could blame it on pregnancy brain already), but it didn’t occur to you until you and Billy pulled up to the party that you would be expected to drink.

When you walked in, Billy brought you straight to the alcohol, filling up two cups before you could say anything over the pounding music. He went to hand you yours with a grin, and you paled, feeling like it was suddenly too hot in the house.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” you said, trying to decline the drink politely and casually but knowing you wouldn’t be so lucky as to not be questioned.

Billy looked at you as if you’d grown two heads. “Uh…you’re not drinking?”

Shit. You absolutely should have thought this through. Who goes to one of these parties to stay sober, anyway?

“She’s not drinking?” Tommy asked, sliding over with Carol under his arm. “Like at all?”

“That’s weird,” Carol giggled, clearly feeling the alcohol she had consumed tonight. “What, are you pregnant or something?”

Your blood ran cold. You actively tried not to react, but the question hit you like a slap to the face. “No, Carol,” you snapped back.

Billy’s eyes never left you throughout the entire interaction. His brows were furrowed, the gears turning in his head.

“I just don’t feel good,” you added, feeling like you were standing on stage with a spotlight on you. “I thought alcohol would make it worse.”

Tommy and Carol weren’t even listening anymore, having moved on to making out in the corner. Billy’s intense gaze was beginning to make you uncomfortable, you felt like he was reading you like a book.

Despite your fears, Billy didn’t bring it up or push the alcohol again. You had a pretty shitty time, because hanging out in a crowded house full of drunk people is probably the least enjoyable sober activity. Billy had two beers before he decided you should leave early. He didn’t look like he was having any fun either, and he knew you weren’t.

In the safety of Billy’s Camaro, you let out a breath. You buckled your seatbelt as Billy climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the car and began to drive back in the direction of your house.

He drove in silence. He didn’t even turn music on, which was not like Billy at all. The tension in the air was so thick you could barely breathe. The only sounds you could hear were the rumbling of the engine and your own shaky breathing.

Billy pulled a cigarette from his pack, sticking it between his lips. He pulled out his lighter and flicked it, bringing the flame to his face and lighting the cigarette. He took a big drag, blowing the smoke mostly out the window. The smell of it nearly made you gag, but you watched his every movement with bated breath anyway.

Finally, he spoke.

“Are you going to tell me what that was really about?” he asked, driving with one hand. He doesn’t look away from the road, doesn’t look at you.

You felt like you were going to really be sick (that had been happening recently), but it was all nerves this time. You debated if there was any chance of talking yourself out of this believably, but then you realize what’s the point, he has to know sometime, somehow.

You let out a long, shaky exhale. Billy’s eyes flicked to you for just a moment at the sound, sensing that there really was something big going on. He had hoped it was some silly explanation. He took another long drag from his cigarette.

“Billy…” you began, looking away from him and down at your hands as your fingers played together nervously. “I, uh…I’m pregnant.”

The words hang in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. Billy doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything.

Finally Billy sighed deeply, taking another drag and then putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose as if he had a bad headache. “Christ…”

You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to be mad at you, You didn’t want him to leave.

You didn’t say anything, still trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t look happy, but you couldn’t really figure what he was thinking. He was never an open book.

Billy pulled up in front of your house. You half expected him to kick you out of the car and never talk to you again, but instead he shut the car off entirely.

“Can I come in? To talk?” he asked, which took you by surprise.

“Yeah,” you said. “My parents are home, though, so you’ll have to come through the window…”

He nodded. He was familiar. “Give me 10 minutes,” he said. He leaned over and kissed you softly on the lips and then you were climbing out, headed up the walkway to your front door as you heard him drive off. He would be going to park around the block to walk over so your parents wouldn’t be suspicious.

You didn’t know what to think. He didn’t seem mad at you, which was a good sign. He even kissed you before you got out of the car like he always does.

Your stomach was in knots as you slipped into the house, saying a quick goodnight to your parents as you headed to your room. You cracked the window for Billy before getting changed into some comfortable pajamas while you waited for him.

Just as promised, you heard your window sliding up about 10 minutes later, and you turned in time to see Billy’s large body awkwardly maneuvering in through the window.

When he was in, he shut the window behind him and let out a sigh, running a hand through his messy blonde curls. He sat down on your bed next to you, neither of you saying anything for a while.

“Well,” Billy finally said. “This is some shit.” He laughed, but nothing was really funny.

You felt bad. You felt like this was all your fault, although you knew logically that wasn’t true.

“And you’re sure?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms over the thighs of his jeans.

“Yes,” you said. “Do you want to see the tests?”

He hesitated before nodding. “Not that I don’t believe you,” he added quickly, his voice gruff. “I just…want to see ‘em.”

You opened your bedside table drawer, pulling out the five positive tests you had taken. Billy’s eyes widened as you handed them to him, and he realized this was really happening. There was no mistake.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, looking at those two pink lines.

“Yeah. Fuck,” you agreed.

Billy turned to you then, and he surprised you by smiling at you softly. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his firm, warm body. You always felt safe there.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said, which was maybe the last thing you expected him to say.

You looked up at him. “Really? You actually think so?”

“Yeah,” he said, and he looked genuine. “You know I’m serious about you, right?”

You blinked at him. You hadn’t known that, not really. You had hoped he felt the same way about you as you felt about him, but he avoided talking about his feelings so much you were never really sure where you stood.

He looked at you incredulously. “You are. You’re so special to me, you have no idea.”

Your eyes began to water at that, a couple tears falling. “Billy…”

He lifted a hand and wiped your tears away. “Come on, baby girl…” he muttered. “Don’t cry. I hate when you cry.”

He was never this tender. It was making your heart beat about a million times a minute, your head spinning in circles.

“You’re not mad?” you finally asked, voice weak.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, looking genuinely curious. “It’s not your fault. It was both of us.” He gave you a little smirk when he said that, and it made you blush.

“I just thought you’d be upset,” you said, eyes trailing down to look at your comforter. He placed his hand beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I’m not upset,” he said. “Sure, this is…really not great timing, but we’re gonna be okay, yeah? We have each other.”

You nodded. You felt like you could get through anything with Billy by your side, and now that it was clear he had no plans to run, you felt yourself breathing for the first time in a week.

“I love you, Billy,” you said, and you froze as you realized what you had said. You and Billy had not said that to each other yet, and now you were positive you had really scared him off this time.

But Billy didn’t miss a beat. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. “I love you, too,” he said, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

He gently placed his hand on your still flat stomach, rubbing his thumb over the material of your shirt.

“And I mean it,” he promised, looking into your eyes with his deep, gorgeous blue ones, more serious than you’d ever seen him. “You won’t do this alone. I’m right here.”

—

Billy began to act strangely in July.

He stopped calling. You stopped seeing him around anywhere. You went to the pool to see him at work, which he usually loved for you to do, but you found him there looking sweaty and sick, his body covered up from the sun. You knew something was seriously off right away.

It turned out Max and El had already figured it out themselves. They had been watching Billy, and discovered the Mind Flayer was back, and he had possessed Billy.

You felt angry. You felt scared. But Will had been able to be saved from the Mind Flayer, so surely Billy could be, too. That’s what you held onto, what you told yourself.

—

It had been a month since the Starcourt incident. A month since Billy sacrificed himself to save all of you, a month since you watched your boyfriend die horrifically right in front of your own eyes. You still had nightmares about it, seeing it over and over again behind your eyelids when you tried to go to sleep at night. When you realized you’ll never fall asleep in Billy’s arms again, never feel him again at all.

You didn’t leave your bed for weeks after his death. Really only getting up for necessities like the bathroom or forcing yourself to eat enough to keep your body going. Steve and Robin came over and begged you to get up and get out of your dark, depressing bedroom. You weren’t ready to face a world without Billy in it. The thought of going outside and seeing the world continuing on like nothing happened made you feel sick. You felt like they didn’t understand - Steve didn’t like Billy anyway. They were never fans of your relationship. The only thing that eventually gets through to you and gets you out of bed is the reminder that you’re still growing a baby, and that baby needed a mother who could function.

You had never lost anyone close to you like that before. Not even touching on the brutal way he died, or the fact that it happened while you stood helplessly watching. You thought of Billy constantly, it was a neverending physical ache in your chest that was so severe your doctor thought you might be having heart problems and sent you to have it checked out.

Nope, just heartbreak. You wondered if the pain alone would kill you, too.

You became close to Max. The two of you may have never been friends before, but you had always liked the kid, and when you and Billy first started dating, she had told you she was glad Billy finally had a real girlfriend and that you were better than any of the other girls Billy had brought around. It made you laugh at the time, and you instantly liked her.

In Billy’s absence, being the only two people you knew who really felt the pain of his death, you leaned on each other. You became a true big sister to Max, and she became a real friend to you. The excitement over being an aunt and having that piece of Billy to carry on was the only real light she held onto in life some days.

One of the biggest surprises in the aftermath of Billy’s death came from Steve Harrington himself.

You and Steve had been friends for ages, only becoming closer in the past year. You knew Steve loved you and would always be there for you, of course, but you didn’t realize how much until one day that August.

You were 15 weeks pregnant, at that point the secret was out to any and everyone. You were already beginning to show, no longer able to hide under baggy t shirts and hoodies. You were tired of the sympathetic looks everyone gave you, oh, she’s a pregnant teenager and the father died in that horrible mall fire! You could see it in everyone’s eyes when they looked at you.

The doorbell ringing jolted you from your busy day of crying in bed. You were surprised to see Steve there, looking like he had something really important to say.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and your thoughts immediately went to the pajamas you were still wearing at 4pm, the mess of a depression den your bedroom had turned into.

But you knew Steve was the last person who would judge you. You let him in, both of you walking to your bedroom. You had to step over various water bottles, cans, and dirty clothes on the way to sit on your bed.

When you sat together, Steve turned to you, grasping your hands in his. He looked at you seriously, and it scared you a little.

“I just…I have something to say,” Steve said, and you searched his eyes for any clue as to what he was about to drop on you.

“I…you might think I’m crazy,” he laughed breathlessly, running a hand through his long hair before he grabbed your hand again. “Listen, I can’t stand the idea of you doing this alone.”

You looked at him, confused. “Doing what…?”

Steve gestured towards your stomach, the still small bump visible there now. “Having a baby.”

You felt like he wasn’t making any sense. “Steve, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

Steve sighed, but he didn’t seem annoyed with you. He squeezed your hands, looking you in the eyes. “I’m saying, if you want me to, I want to do this with you. I’ll be like…the dad.” He shook his head, speaking quickly again before you could say anything. “Not the dad, Billy will always be the dad, obviously, I don’t want to erase him or anything. But like the step dad maybe. I want to help you raise the baby.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you crazy or did Steve really just offer to step up and be a parent to a child that isn’t even his?

“Steve…” you breathed, tears coming to your eyes as you scanned his face for any sign of hesitancy or insincerity. You found none. He looked at you determined, like he had made up his mind and nothing would change it. “You don’t have to do this. You’d practically be throwing your life away.”

“I wouldn’t be throwing my life away,” Steve scoffed. “I’ve already graduated. I can get a good job with my dad, with insurance and benefits and stuff. I can take care of you. Both of you.”

He really had thought this through. He meant what he was saying. You couldn’t imagine someone ever being this selfless, it was hard for you to wrap your mind around what he was truly offering.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told him again. Your voice was shaking now as you felt the tears threatening to fall.

“I want to,” he said again, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “You’re like, my best friend in the world. I can’t stand the thought of you stuck doing this alone. Plus, I love kids.” Steve took a deep breath. “And…I feel like I owe it to Billy. I won’t ever forget his sacrifice. He would want you two to be taken care of.”

Those words are the ones that push you over the edge, and you cried, sobs bursting from your chest without warning. Steve was surprised at first, but quickly wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back soothingly. He didn’t say anything, he just let you get it out of your system. You had been so fragile since Billy died, he knew this conversation would bring up some big emotions.

You felt safe in Steve’s arms. You were surprised at how much comfort they brought you, and you thought maybe you would have been better off with your friends after all than rotting in your bed, burritoed in your blankets. You just hadn’t been able to stand the idea of bringing everyone down when you were stuck so deep in your personal pit of despair.

When your cries finally calmed, you pulled away from Steve’s chest, looking at him with puffy red eyes. “I feel like I can’t ask you to do this.”

“You’re not asking me, I’m offering,” Steve answered quickly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I know I can’t force you to believe me, but I want this.”

You felt the tears threatening to fall again, but you pushed the feeling back as far as you could. “Okay,” you finally croaked out. “But you can change your mind at any time, okay?”

Steve smiled at you. “Not gonna happen.”

And Steve kept to his word. He didn’t leave your side the entire pregnancy. He drove you to every appointment, sitting next to you and holding your hand when you needed him. The nurses would refer to him as “dad” and he wouldn’t correct them unless you did. He liked the sound of that, deep down. Yeah, he knew this baby wasn’t his, but he would love them like they were.

The first time Steve got to see the baby and hear the heartbeat, his eyes shone with love, his own heart nearly beating out of his chest. The fast, rhythmic whoosh whoosh whoosh of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. You looked up at Steve teary eyed, and he looked back down at you like he had never been more proud of someone in his life.

It warmed your heart that even though Billy couldn’t be here, which is a pain that would never go away, the baby had a found family that was larger and stronger than you ever could have hoped your support system would be. The whole friend group was so invested in the pregnancy - it had nearly become the friend group’s baby by this point.

The 20 week anatomy scan was a monumental day, because you’d finally be finding out the gender of the baby. There were only supposed to be 2 people allowed back in the room at a time, but somehow your friends were able to talk their way in.

It was like a party in the exam room when the tech came in, wide eyed and taking in the excited group. You laid on the table with Steve in his normal spot next to you. Then there was also Max, Robin, Nancy, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Mike, and El, all crowded into the room with you.

The tech looked a little nervous as she got started, not used to having quite an audience. When the scan started, everyone leaned in, fighting each other for the best glance at the screen. They all began taking bets on whether it would be a boy or a girl.

“Do you want to know the gender?” the tech asked, and the whole room practically yelled a chorus of Yes!

The tech couldn’t help but smile, despite the chaos of this appointment. It was sweet to see an unborn baby already so loved by so many.

“It’s a girl,” the tech announced, and the room erupted into cheers. There were some “I told you so!”s and some money exchanging hands.

The chaos of the room around you fell away as you turned and looked right at Steve. He was already looking at you, tears brimming in his eyes to match yours.

“A baby girl…” he muttered, lightly brushing his hand across your cheek. “A daughter.”

You smiled, and your heart felt like it was swelling out of your chest. You felt so happy. Then you remembered Billy, how he’d never know and never see his daughter, and that familiar, comfortable ache settled over your bones again.

The group took you out to eat after the appointment, you all laughing, throwing out baby girl names, and talking about plans for her future. It meant the world to you how genuinely excited all of your friends were.

By the 7th month of pregnancy, Steve might as well have moved into your house, because he was there all the time. There was still nothing romantic between you, but he slept in your bed, and you loved the way he would hold you at night, his back pressed against you and hand splayed out over your pregnant belly protectively. It was innocent, but it made you feel less alone. You had spent many nights after Billy’s death jolting awake at night from nightmares, feeling like you were free falling through the emptiness.

By month 8, Steve surprised you with a small but cozy two bedroom apartment for the three of you. You had no idea he had even been making plans to move out with you, the gesture catching you completely off guard. Already an emotional mess from the pregnancy and your never ending grief, you had cried, which made Steve panic and think he did something wrong. But really, you couldn’t believe how sweet he was, how much he loved you and the baby already.

Steve, Robin, Nancy, Max, and Dustin helped you set up the nursery. You made a day out of it. There was a lot of sweating and arguing setting up the crib and dresser, mostly between Steve and Dustin, but it all came together. You were shooed out of the room as they opened the windows and painted the walls a pale pink before moving the furniture to their spots.

You nested over the next couple of weeks, and the nursery really started to come together. There was a rocking chair in the corner next to her bookshelf already stocked with baby books. There was shelving attached to the walls, filled with stuffed animals, a framed ultrasound photo, a framed picture of you and Billy.

You even had a wall hanging made with her name to put on the wall, but you kept that hidden in the closet for now, wanting her name to be a surprise for everyone.

Baby Girl was all set now, really, the only thing left was for her to make her arrival.

You had been in your pajamas, watching a movie with Steve one night when you were 38 weeks pregnant. You didn’t make it out of your pajamas very often anymore. You felt like a house at this point, you couldn’t even stand without Steve’s help. You dealt with a lot of back pain in your third trimester, your doctor said the baby was most likely laying on a nerve. Little brat. Thankfully Steve was always there, ready to help however he could, unless he was at work.

You rubbed a hand over your large belly, feeling your baby girl moving beneath your palm. You thought of Billy again, as you always did. You wondered if he could see you somehow, if he knew that you and his baby were okay, that she was about to be here and how you’d never missed him quite as badly as you have lately. Steve was great, but you would have given anything to be going through this with Billy like you were supposed to.

“Can you help me up? I have to go to the bathroom,” you asked Steve with a sigh, hating feeling so helpless. You didn’t like relying on people to this degree, not at all. You had pretty much been assigned an around the clock babysitter over the past few weeks. Someone from the friend group was always here if Steve wasn’t, and you suspected he did that on purpose.

“Of course,” Steve said, standing without hesitation. He held out his hand for you and pulled you to your feet. You made it up with great effort, but at least you were finally up.

Steve sat back down in the recliner as you started moving your aching body towards the small bathroom down the hall. As you were almost halfway there, you felt it - a huge gush, and you froze in place.

“Uh- um, Steve??” you said, panic in your voice.

“What?” Steve asked, his head snapping in your direction. “Are you- did you just pee yourself?”

You glared at him. “My water just broke.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, and he was frozen for a minute. Then he jumped out of his seat, looking frantic like he’d lost his mind and didn’t know where to go first.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit-“

As Steve freaked out, the contractions kicked in for you. You placed a hand on your stomach as you doubled over in pain and cried out, feeling like you were experiencing the worst period cramps of your life.

When Steve noticed, he panicked even harder. “Oh god-“

Steve slapped himself in the face. He had to pull himself together. This is what you had both been preparing for for months, and now it was happening, and he could do this.

He sprinted into the bedroom, grabbing the overnight bags you had already packed. There was a big one for you, a smaller one filled with Steve’s things, and one for the baby.

When Steve ran back out into the living room, he found you holding onto the back of the couch for dear life, breathing through a contraction just like the two of you had practiced in the birthing classes.

“Good, good, you’re doing amazing sweetheart,” Steve said, running a hand through his messy hair. “You think you can get downstairs and into the car with me?”

You held up a finger, telling him to wait as you rode out the last of this contraction. When the pain faded, you let out a long exhale. “Yes. Let’s just go before another one comes on.”

Steve carried all three bags in one arm as he put his other one around you, helping you out of the apartment and down the stairs. Another contraction hit halfway down the stairs, and Steve had to stand there with you, making sure you didn’t collapse and go toppling down the damn stairs. They were coming fast now, you both noticed, and that made him feel like he was going to panic again, but he pushed the feeling down deep. He breathed along with you, coaching you as he had learned in class. He had paid attention. At least he felt like he could be somewhat helpful.

When it was over, he got you the rest of the way down the stairs, helping you into the car and buckling you in himself. He tossed the bags in the back and then he was sprinting to the driver’s side.

Steve drove to the hospital fast, speeding up a little every time you had another contraction. He was terrified of the baby being born in his car, him delivering her himself. He shuddered at the thought.

Steve parked as close to the emergency room entrance as he could get, running inside like a madman to grab a wheelchair and wheel it out to you. He got you settled into it, grabbing all your bags and pushing you inside quickly, but a little less insane this time since he didn’t want to throw you out of the chair.

You received a cervical check in the ER, and it was determined you were already 7cm dilated. Things were moving extremely fast. Your head was spinning, and Steve looked like he might pass out.

They got you up and into a delivery room immediately. You were offered the epidural, but you said no, you wanted to see if you could make it without it - this is a decision you would regret soon.

At some point, the pain went from intense to unbearable. You screamed out, tears streaming down your cheeks, as the contractions got more and more intense until you felt like your body was literally splitting in half.

“I want the epidural,” you begged, and the nurses looked at each other. You didn’t like that look.

“We’ll have to do another cervical check first,” one of them said gently, and you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.

The check was performed, and the nurse announced you were already 10cm. It was too late. It was time to push.

You cried like a baby as the delivery room turned into chaos, nurses bustling around, bright lights turning on, the doctor coming in dressed in scrubs, all preparing the room for the birth. It was actually time. Steve never took his eyes off you, brushing your sweaty hair off your forehead.

“I can’t do this,” you cried to him, desperate for someone to give you that goddamn epidural. “It hurts too bad.”

Steve looked at you sympathetically. He wanted to take every bit of your pain away, and he felt powerless that there wasn’t a thing he could do. “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart,” he said, offering you some water. You gratefully drank through the straw, the cool water easing your dry mouth. “You’re almost done. If you came this far, you can finish it.”

His words did bring you a little comfort, although all you really wanted to hear was Yes, here’s the epidural you ordered! You won’t feel any more pain at all!

But of course that was not your reality. The nurse lifted your right leg, and they offered to let Steve hold the other. He looked between you and the nurse awkwardly, looking like he wanted to ask if it was okay, before he wrapped his hands around your leg, holding it back just like the nurse was.

You had never felt so exposed in your life.

“Don’t look down there during all this,” You warned Steve, your expression serious. “You’ll never look at me the same.”

Steve laughed, but he didn’t take your words lightly. He did not look.

The doctor was between your legs now, and if you weren’t in so much pain you probably would have felt embarrassed.

The doctor told you to push with every contraction. The first one came on, and you pushed, screaming loudly, a primal scream ripped straight from your soul. Steve winced, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to. He didn’t care if you broke every bone in his hand, as long as it helped you in some way, as long as he can help you feel better.

You continued to push at the appropriate times, each time feeling like your body was tearing apart. You had never experienced such pain in your life, women weren’t lying when they said this shit is the worst.

“I can see her head, you’re almost there,” the doctor encouraged, and you felt relieved that the end was in sight, but at the same time the pain was only getting worse.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you cried, looking at Steve like there was anything he could do to help you. He felt helpless, and that was the worst thing when all he wanted was to take all your pain away. That’s all he had ever wanted.

“You can,” he told you, padding your forehead with a cold wash cloth. “You’ve come so far. You are almost done. She’s almost here.”

At Steve’s words, you took a deep breath. He was right. You were almost done, and there was no turning back now anyway.

You pushed hard during the next contraction, the doctor encouraging you.

“The head is out,” he announced, “The worst part is over. Just one more good push.”

You had never been relieved to hear something more in your life. You pushed hard for your last push, and you knew she was out. You tried to look down, and then you heard the most beautiful sound. A cry.

The doctor held up a tiny little thing, pale and covered in blood, crying loudly. Your eyes went wide, but you were too exhausted to sit up. The nurses wiped off the baby, and then they were placing her on your chest, this tiny little warm wiggling thing.

You wrapped your arms around her, cuddling her close to your chest, wrapping your hospital gown around her for warmth. A nurse placed a baby blanket over her as well. She settled against your skin like it was where she had always belonged.

She had a head full of blonde or maybe light brown hair. She opened her eyes and looked up at you with bright blue eyes - Billy’s eyes. God, she was his twin. Your heart clenched at the sight, and you felt tears beginning to fall.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of Steve’s arm wrapping around your shoulder, his other hand coming to rest on the baby’s back.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, and you could see the tears falling down his cheeks. “Absolutely perfect.” He smiled softly, running a hand over her soft baby hair.

You wished Billy was here to see her. You wished for that more than anything.

“Little Molly,” you hummed, taking in her perfect features, her soft skin, her tiny fingers and toes. Molly Louise Hargrove.

You could have held her all day, but finally you passed her to Steve, giving him a turn. Steve took her like she was made of porcelain, holding her so tenderly like he was terrified she’d break at the slightest wrong move. He rocked her gently, looking at her with pure love and adoration. He looked like a new dad.

When Steve called your friends the next morning to let them know the baby had arrived, he got hung up on. He looked at the phone, confused, attempting to dial back with no answer.

20 minutes later and your entire friend group was busting through the hospital room door. You laughed, shushing your loud friends as you gestured to the sleeping newborn in your arms.

Surprisingly, they all quieted down, but then they joined together in a soft chorus of Awww! as they leaned over, trying to get a better look at her. You finally announced the name, and everyone loved it.

You motioned for Max to climb onto the bed with you, and she did, careful not to jostle your sore body. She learned over, trying to get a good look at the bundle of blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold her?” you asked softly. You had wanted her to be the first.

She looked at you wide eyed, her blue eyes full of emotion. “R-really?”

“Of course. You’re Auntie Max,” you answered her with a gentle smile and she smiled back. She held her arms out, and you carefully laid Molly in them. “Just be careful to support her head,” you added, but the girl was a natural.

Max looked down at her niece, her eyes wide. Tears brimmed at her waterline, and she looked like she had about a million thoughts going through her head at once.

“She looks like Billy,” is what Max finally said, a huff of breathless laughter coming from her lips as tears began to fall. The sight of the younger girl crying made you cry too, it didn’t even matter that you had a whole audience. You felt Steve’s hand rubbing your back.

Every member of the friend group held Molly, even the ones who originally said they didn’t want to (Mike and Will). Molly seemed to adore Robin especially.

Your friends visited until they were kicked out, visiting hours over for the day. Only Steve was allowed to stay, since he was sleeping there.

That night, you smiled softly to yourself as you watched Steve in the dark of the room. You were supposed to be asleep, but were having a hard time. You watched Steve, who definitely thought you were still asleep, as he paced around the dark room, gently bouncing Molly in his arms.

“You are really the cutest ever, you know,” he muttered lowly to her, like they were having a conversation. “And I love you so much. Did you know that? I may not be your daddy, but I couldn’t love you any more even if I was.”

Your heart felt full as you watched them. Molly was awake, but not a single cry came from her. She was content to be gently walked and bounced and staring up at Steve’s face. She knew his voice. He had talked to her through your belly the whole pregnancy.

“We’re gonna have so much fun. We’re gonna be the best family.” He gently patted her back as he walked with the bundle in his arms. “And I’ll tell you all about your daddy. Billy. He was a hero, you know.”

You wiped away the tears that fell with the back of your hand. You still couldn’t handle a mention of Billy without crying. But your little girl was so loved, which meant everything to you, and you knew Billy would be happy to know she was loved and taken care of, too.

The day you went home from the hospital, you and Steve bickered over how the infant car seat worked. You snatched the instructions back and forth, both desperately trying to figure out how the contraption worked. Finally Molly was settled in her seat, safely and cozily strapped in, and it really wasn’t that hard to begin with.

A nurse pushed you to the hospital entrance while Steve walked ahead, carrying the baby carrier. You could see Molly peacefully snoozing in her seat as he walked.

Steve got the car seat settled into the back of the car, and then he was helping you into the passenger seat, mindful of how sore you still were. You felt like a stranger in your own body, but you knew all this weirdness would pass.

Getting home was surreal. Entering the apartment as a family of three finally. Steve carried the car seat around the whole apartment, giving Molly the grand tour. It wasn’t much to see, but it was home.

Your eyes caught sight of the framed photo of you and Billy sitting on the living room table. You thought about how things would be different if he were here. You imagined Billy holding Molly, meeting her for the first time, getting to be her dad. You had to shake the thoughts away before they consumed you again.

You knew you would miss Billy for the rest of your life. Especially seeing Molly every day, you were sure she would only look more like Billy as she grew up. But you had built a family here. Even with all the tragedy, you had your baby girl, and you had Steve. You were grateful for the love that surrounded you, even when all you could see was darkness.

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

When The World Seems So Cruel

prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?

"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."

"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.

You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."

"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."

You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."

"What's goin' on?"

You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.

It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."

"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."

You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."

You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"

He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."

"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"

Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."

Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."

"It's not, I promise."

He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"

"Yeah, but things change, Bee."

Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.

"Billy, I'm just tired."

"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"

You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."

"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "

"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"

One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."

"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."

"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"

"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."

"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."

"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."

Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "

"Billy."

"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"

You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."

He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.

However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.

"Hi," you giggled.

"You seem happy."

"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."

"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.

What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.

When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.

You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."

"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."

He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."

"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."

Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.

You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.

"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.

"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"

"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.

"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."

You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."

"You'll get so much more, baby."

You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."

He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."

Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.

He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.

Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.

"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.

"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."

"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."

"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."

"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."

"Even your ass?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"

Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.

He'd fuck your ass later.

"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."

"Whatever Daddy wants."

Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"

"Hmm?"

"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"

You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.

"Fuck's sake."

"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.

"You're just askin' for it, huh?"

"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "

"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."

You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.

"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"

"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"

"Things can change," you pouted.

"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "

"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Right."

"And I can stay the night... Right?"

Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."

"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"

His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"

"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"

"I could, like, just go with you?"

"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."

"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."

He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.

"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"

"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.

"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.

"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.

"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"

"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"

"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.

Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"

"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."

"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."

"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"

"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "

"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."

Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.

"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.

"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"

Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."

"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"

Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.

Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.

When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.

The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.

When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"

"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.

"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.

She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."

"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.

"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.

"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.

Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.

You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."

You nodded absently, "Music's on."

"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"

"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.

"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."

You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.

"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.

Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.

"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."

Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.

"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"

"I can retake the tests."

"You're gonna have to study."

"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."

He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"

"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"

"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."

You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."

"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."

You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."

"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."

Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."

"I don't deserve you," you whispered.

"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."

You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.

Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things #stranger things billy #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #dacre montgomery

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cupofjoekeery · 6 months ago

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Stranger Things fic recommendations

Main fic rec masterlist

⤜♡→Steve Harrington: ⤜♡→Robin Buckley:

⤜♡→Billy Hargrove:

Divider Credits: @strangergraphics-archive @strangergraphics

#stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove #robin buckley #stranger things fic #fic rec #billy hargove x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #billy hargove imagine #dacre montgomery #maya hawke

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ladymacbeth-writes-sometimes · 4 months ago

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Black & White

#billy stranger things #billy hargrove #william hargrove #sexy billy hargrove #black and white #billy hargrove x reader #billy x reader #fyp #for you #for you page #dacre montgomery

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justsomerandomfanfic · 8 months ago

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In The Summer Heat - Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Title: In The Summer Heat

Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother (Mentioned), Billy's mother (Mentioned), and high schoolers (Mentioned)

Requested by: @fandom-princess-forevermore

WC: 2,856

Warnings: Set during either Season 2 or 3, mentions of true crime, mentions of missing people, mild cursing, brief fear, teasing, banter, flirting, nicknames, slight suggestiveness, injuries (cuts/bruises), blood briefly mentioned, brief mentions of heat stoke, slight/mini? angst, and fluff

The breeze that was gently blowing through your window was hardly doing anything to cool down your skin as it passed by. The summers in Hawkins, Indiana were hot and humid. Your mother had always said she wanted to move somewhere warmer. But the only place she could afford was Indiana, where it was already eighty degrees with high humidity. You hated the heat, and trying to distract yourself by reading one of your favorite books was doing close to nothing for you.

And you were trying everything you could do to avoid the terrible heat getting to you; lighter clothes, window open, even a standing fan in the corner of your room, but nothing seemed to work. There was no escaping it. As much as you wished there was, you couldn't get away from the heat. It was impossible. You took another swig of the cold drink your mother brought up to you before she headed to bed, your hand wet from the condensation on the side of the glass.

Pressing your wet hand on your forehead, you let the cold condensation cool you down somewhat, shutting your eyes briefly before you opened them back up again and wiped your hand on your shirt. Drying your hand, you grabbed your book again, flipping to the page that you were on, and re-reading the page that you had stopped on.

Finally falling back into the rhythm of reading - or trying to, at least - you almost completely forgot about the heat until you heard a noise outside of your window. Snapping your eyes from your book, you stared over at your open window; your soft curtains only lightly fluttered in the practically nonexistent breeze. It was dark out. You could only see the tops of the street lamps from across the street as they lit up the neighborhood. Your mind began to race and your heart began to pound; a shiver ran down your spine.

The many nights listening about true crime on the TV, and hearing about the missing people from the town on the radio, was making your mind race. Could you be next? Unlikely, but still…

A hand reached out from the darkness of the night outside your window, raising up and clutching onto the windowsill; your heart stopped. Your breathing stuttered, and your eyes widened in fear. You were frozen, stuck between fight and flight. As a head pops up, you let out a breath of relief. Your hand snapped up to press against your chest, your heart still racing under your palm.

Billy pushed himself up and over your windowsill, an eyebrow raised as he looked at your - then shocked - and then suddenly relieved expression. Once his feet hit your carpet, you huffed, shutting your book and setting it beside you; your full attention on the young, Californian man you delightfully called your boyfriend. Billy only tilted his head, a small grin growing on his lips. "Scared ya?" He taunted playfully, making you roll your eyes, pushing yourself up a bit more on your bed to fully press your back against your headrest.

"Scared me? Nah, just startled me a little bit." You shrugged your shoulders, watching as Billy kicked off his shoes and made his way over to you; also dressed for the hot weather - somewhat. How the hell was he surviving in those Jeans?

"I think being startled is the same as being scared, babe." His voice was low as he walked further into your room, with a slight hint of amusement behind his tone. And then you finally noticed it. The small cut on his temple.

Your eyes widened as you frantically shuffled your legs, slipping off the bed less than gracefully, but you didn't care, your Billy was hurt. You stood in front of him, taking his face in your hands as you gently turned his head to the side to get a better look at the small scrape on his temple; it was no longer than an inch or so long. It was lightly caked with dried blood, not too much, but it still made your chest tighten at the sight of it. "Billy, what happened? Are you alright?" You asked anxiously, moving your eyes from the cut to his ocean blue eyes.

Billy just gave you his signature grin, though it didn't travel to his eyes; his hands coming up to take hold of your wrists. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." You pursed your lips, your eyes searching his for a moment, before you brought your attention back to the small wound. You knew something was up, but you didn't want to force him to tell you anything if he didn't want to. He would come to you and tell you when the time was right. So you didn't push, you didn't say a word, only nodding and making your way to your bathroom. You rummaged through your mirror cabinet, finding your small first-aid kit, before returning to your bedroom; and finding Billy already sitting on your bed. Billy wasn't expecting this... Well, he was - you’ve tried to clean up a lot of his injuries before, and you were always so- Well, he didn't really know what to think anymore. "Sweetheart, you don't have to do that-'' Billy started as you walked over to him, but you shook your head.

"If not for you, do this for me," You replied, interrupting him, "Please, Billy." You pleaded, only for him to purse his lips, staring down at your carpeted floor.

"Fine..." He muttered reluctantly, and you nodded, opening the box and gathering your supplies. As he waited, Billy looked around your room. Billy liked your room. It was neat, organized, and comfortable - very unlike the mess that was his room. You had a few posters on your walls, shelves covered in books, and a small boombox on your desk; overall your room really reminded him of you. Calming, and bright.

Looking back at you, Billy could see that you were concentrating very hard on the task at hand, the tip of your tongue peeking out from your lips. Taking out an alcohol wipe, you twisted your body to faced him, "This is going to sting a bit, okay?" Billy said nothing as you then cupped his cheek with one hand, turning his head ever-so-slightly, before dabbing the cut on his temple with the wipe. He shut his eyes, the stinging making him tense his shoulders as you applied gentle pressure to the wound; cleaning the dried blood. "I'm sorry..." You whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Do you have any other injuries?"

Billy opened his eyes, a slight frown forming on his face as you finished - the bandaid you had chosen for the side of his temple was fruit-themed. "No," He murmured, "Just my face." He said softly.

You didn't respond for a moment, staring at him, and Billy was worried that you could see right through him. You had such an ability, seeing right through him when no one else could. "Shirt off." You pursed your lips again, and Billy could only let out a chuckle, narrowing his eyes at you devilishly.

"Buy me dinner first, sweetheart."

"Billy." You lightly scolded with a serious expression on your face. "Come on, please?"

With a huff, he stared at you, his smile dropping back into a - rather indifferent - frown. He continued to stare, hoping that you would drop it but you didn't budge. Letting out a deep sigh through his nose, he began to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Mentally, he felt relieved, it was too hot in your room.

You felt your cheeks warm as your eyes drifted to his exposed upper half - even though you had seen him topless many times before, the butterflies still fluttered in your chest, despite the current situation - he then tossed his shirt to the corner of your bed. Your gaze then dropped, noticing the bruises that littered his side, crawling around to his lower back; they were purple and dark red. Your breath hitched, feeling your eyes burn as you reached out, but your hand shook before stopping short; overwhelming concern settling inside your stomach.

"I'm fine," He spoke nonchalantly - though, seemingly frustrated with either himself or something - as if what you saw wasn't all that important, "They look worse than they are."

You chose not to say anything - fearing that if you did, that you would cry - grabbing the bruise paste from the first-aid case. You squeezed some of it onto your fingers, before gently rubbing it across his side, making sure to cover the bruises as much as you could. And for Billy, he was just watching you, noticing your lips were pulled into a thin line, and your brows were furrowed together, clearly concerned about him, as he sat silently on your bed. Billy felt his body become warm, and he doubted that it was from the unbearable summer heat. His heart pounded against his chest, threatening to break through his ribcage, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by everything - by how much you actually cared about him. For the most part, he was used to people not caring for him. But you cared. Even now, here with him, you were helping him, worrying about him. He'd never been treated this well since... California... When his mom was still around.

Billy knew there was just something about you the moment he met you. Something about your eyes, that sparkle when you were happy, your hair that was always so soft, and your laugh - Billy couldn’t get it out of his head; it was difficult to explain, even to himself.

He was the new King of Hawkins High. Every girl he walked by swooned and giggled if he looked their way. Their attention made him feel powerful. He was known for being a womanizer and delinquent, the one that women seemed to flock to, who always got into fights, and picked on others. Yet, here he was, with you.

You had just been another girl he wanted to use until he got bored of you; like he did with most - if not all - of the girls in Hawkins High already. He tried in the beginning to woo and persuade you into going on at least one date with him. But you declined each and every time. You just smiled up at him, politely rejecting every single one of his invitations. It never seemed to irritate you when he would come back and ask you again and again.

At some point, Billy stopped asking you, and you thought that that would mean that he would then just leave you alone. But, he didn't. Instead of asking you out, he'd just sort of flirt, and ask how your day was going whilst leaning against the locker beside yours. He didn't realize how often you'd cross his mind, but sometimes he would find himself staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, thinking about you. Wondering what you were doing, wondering when he'd see you at school again. There was an urge inside of him that he didn't understand, that he couldn't resist. It made him feel weak, pathetic, vulnerable, and completely in love with you. He wanted to hate it. He wanted to hate you, but he couldn't.

The relationship between the both of you was odd at first, but grew quite beautiful. Billy found himself enjoying your conversations... He'd rather sit and listen to you rant and ramble about anything and everything than spend five minutes with anyone else. Your presence alone was calming, giving him a feeling of peace. There was this unspoken understanding between the two of you, something that neither of you had ever felt with anyone else before.

He wasn't used to the feelings that he had for you. These feelings grew whenever he saw you or even thought of you. This intense sense of desire to protect, hold, and cherish you. It scared the hell out of him. It scared him because he didn't know how to handle it.

"Alright," You muttered, wiping your hands off with a tissue before crumpling it and tossing it in your small plastic trash can in the corner of your room. "Those should heal in no time." You finished, making Billy grin.

“Great-”

You snapped your eyes up at him, giving him a short look, “With time and rest.” You emphasized before collecting the first-aid supplies and packing them back away in the first-aid kit. When you turned your attention back to him, noticing the far-off look in his eyes as he looked down at you. That look in his eyes made your mouth suddenly feel dry. It was a look that you rarely saw on Billy Hargrove’s face - only when he was really deep in his thoughts. His brow furrowed slightly, his eyes holding an emotion that you couldn’t quite make sense of. It made your already warm face feel like it was burning from the intensity. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow, "What are you thinking about?" You asked softly, slowly watching as Billy's eyes rapidly blinked, gathering his thoughts, his lips twisted into a grin.

"I'm just thinking about kissing you," He didn't hesitate to answer, making you scoff out a small laugh, shaking your head at how adorably ridiculous he was being.

"Well, I'm thinking you just might get a kiss," You played along, mimicking his grin, leaning towards him slightly, "But, you have to promise that you will rest for a couple of days."

Billy chuckled, looking up at your ceiling before looking back down at you, "Whatever you say, doc," He answered, amused, before leaning in, but you stopped him, pressing your pointer finger on his awaiting lips.

You gave him a look, "Promise, B," You raised your other hand, lifting your pinky finger out for him.

Billy narrowed his eyes at you, impatient, but willing to play along. He brought his hand up to yours, but the second you wrapped your pinky around his, Billy leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours; knocking you onto your back, and landing back onto your plush mattress.

You gasped, giggling against his lips, your eyes fluttering closed as he moved over you; his forearms pressed down on the mattress beside your head, your own arms looping around his neck. The kiss was languid, his mouth moving against yours as your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. He sighed against your lips, feeling the warmth seep through his chest once more. He didn't even realize how much he had missed you. Even though it had been less than two days since he last saw you. He missed your voice, your face, your taste; everything. He didn't want to stop kissing you, but at some point, he was going to have to come back up for air.

Slipping his lips from yours, Billy breathily sighed, digging his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, before laying down completely on you. "I missed you," He mumbled into your skin, smiling when you laughed lightly under him.

"I've missed you too," You replied softly, running your fingers through his curly blonde hair, "But, you got to get off of me, honey. It's way too hot for you to koala me right now."

"Don't wanna," He muttered stubbornly, pressing kisses where his lips were placed on your shoulder. "Can't make me."

You huffed, unable to stop your smile from growing, your hands wrapped around his upper back; your nails lightly scratching against his warm, bare skin. "Fine..." You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, "... But you owe me big time, Hargrove."

"Hmm... Sounds good to me," He hummed mischievously - you could feel him smirking, "I'm staying the night."

"Really? That's a surprise," You remarked teasingly, "I wouldn't have guessed that."

Billy gently bit your shoulder in retaliation, causing you to let out a little shriek, muffling your own laughter as you slapped your hand over your mouth; not wanting to wake your sleeping mother three doors over. "I'm trapping you here now forever," He grumbled, though it was hardly a threat.

"Oh, poor me," You answered sarcastically, "Trapped under my ridiculously handsome boyfriend. Heat stroke. What a terrible way to go." You sighed out, closing your eyes; a smile on your face, "Tragic, really." You almost forgot about how uncomfortably hot you were, “Honestly, not the worst way to die…” You muttered, your eyelids fluttering as your fingers started to move absentmindedly against his back and shoulders, rubbing circles, and tracing shapes. Billy sighed contently, his muscles relaxing beneath your fingertips. Your smile softened as you felt his eyelashes flutter against your skin, "Rest, Billy," You told him quietly, "I'll be here when you wake up."

"You better be," He whispered, letting out a deep sigh before he closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

Glancing over at your book beside your head, you let out a small yawn, before turning your head to rest your cheek on Billy’s forehead, shutting your own eyes. You'd have time to read it later.

---

Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

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supercap2319 · 7 months ago

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Y/N sighed in relief. The Ogre and its ghouls were gone. For how long? Y/N couldn't say, but for now, they were gone. He glanced to his right as Stella's brightly colored wings disappeared. "He was getting on my bloody nervous." She said.

The Hunter Troll was taken care of, too. It was in a giant chasm in the ground thanks to four young men wearing armor and weapons at their backs. They appeared to be Y/N's and his sister Bloom's age, but probably a little bit older if he had to guess. He locked eyes with one of them with gorgeous blue eyes as Stella started to introduce said blue eyes and his friends.

"Bloom? Y/N? These are the specialists from Alfea I was talking about." Stella said.

"How's it going?"

"How are you doing?"

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Meet Riven." Stella indicated to a young man with light brown hair and blue-ish green eyes. He had a mischievous smile, and Y/N could tell right away that this guy was a troublemaker.

"Brandon." She indicated to the tallest male of the group. He flashed Stella a smile. "How's it going, Princess?" From his tone and Stella's body language, it was obvious that that they had the hots for each other.

She moved on to the next guy. "Timmy." The young man with reddish brown hair and blue eyes smiled at Y/N and Bloom, giving the twins a friendly wave and shy smile in the process.

The final one was the one who Y/N locked eyes with. The one whose hair was a golden coiffed peak of a helmet. He was cute and definitely had that heroic vibe you see in movies and TV shows. The summer tan and muscular muscles underneath his shirt were a good indication that this cute guy definitely didn't miss a workout in his life.

"The blonde one is Prince Sky of Eraklyon."

Y/N's eyes widened. "Wait, he's a prince? Where's his crown?" Y/N blurted out.

Bloom blushed with embarrassment in front of the cute guys, who smirked and laughed at Y/N's question. Sky turned to him with a smirk, showing a row of perfect teeth. God, Y/N hated him already. "I left it at home in my giant castle."

"You have a castle, too?"

"Nah, I'm just fucking with ya, mate." Sky smirked.

"Ass." Y/N smiled. "Who knew you had jokes, Blue eyes."

Sky chuckled. "I have a name, you know."

"Don't care. Blue eyes suits you." Y/N smiled.

Brandon cleared his throat. "I hate to break up the flirting, but we gotta get this guy back to Silva." He pointed towards the Hunter Troll.

"Right. Specialists? Let's move." Sky said in his most commander voice he could.

They cuffed the troll and opened a portal and sent the creature through, as they all said their goodbyes one by one. Sky turns to Y/N and smirks. "I sure hope I'll see you at Alfea."

"You can count on it, Prince Sky." Y/N smiled.

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sweet-villain · 1 year ago

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Getting Away, Somewhere ~ D.M

Words : 4K

@babyloutattoo89 @palomam18 @becca-alexa @sadbitchfangirl @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @djkeruigbbygirl @haileighboi @bookshelf-dust @moonchildquinn @strangerfreak

@pleasantlycrazyworld asked:

My lovebug🥰 can you write dacre and his girl traveling for the first time together? Maybe it's after he's gone for a long time with filming, and he wants a getaway? It can be them going anywhere you would like to travel to

You rolled over on your side, scrunching your nose when the sun hits your face but you hear a chuckle from besides you that you haven’t heard in awhile. Your eyes snapped open to meet your boyfriend’s blue eyes as he watches you wake up.

“ Dacre?” He hums as you call him. His hand reaches for your hip underneath the covers and massages the skin that’s peeking through your shirt. “ What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow night.”

“ I wanted to surprise you” he says, leaning down and pecking your cheek. You groaned not wanting to move from the bed finding it comfortable where you were at the moment. He rose from the bed wearing a white shirt with a pair of sweats.

“ And where are you off to, my beautiful boyfriend?” He slide the white t-shirt off his body and threw it at you. It landed on your face hiding the fact that your boyfriend was undressing in front of you. You looked over to see him closing the bathroom door already. He was too fast to slide off his clothes but he waited to see if you were going to make it to the shower with him. He stood and waited underneath the hot water as it cascaded down his back.

You didn’t mean for it to happen but you fell asleep again and when he walked out of the shower in nothing but a towel around his waist, he was about to ask you what your deal was when he saw you had fallen asleep.

“ I should of have done” he chuckled going into the closet to get dressed. He took the time to write on his laptop while you slept for a bit more. You don’t know what time it was then you woke up again, this time you walked into the living room all dressed and ready for the day.

“ Good morning, again” you giggled turning to see he was working on his laptop. It must be important. You left him alone to write and made your way into the kitchen. He put his laptop on top of the coffee table and found you in the kitchen making yourself a cup of coffee.

“ Now, where is my kiss?” He asked. “ I’ve been waiting all morning” he says wrapping his arms around you from the back as his nose buries into your hair, breathing in your scent.

“ You’ll have to wait for that” you giggled, he growled moving your hair away from your face and nibbled on your ear, teasing you.

“ That’s not allowed” you moved away from him in hope he would stop that. It only fueled him to continue, dragging his teeth along your neck.

“ Dacre..” You giggled. “ I’m making coffee.”

“ That’s not my name” he says with a small pout.

“ Then what’s your name? Mr. Needy?” He gasped putting his hand on his chest like he was shocked you even assumed that of him. But he was needy because he missed you being away from you on a long trip. The phone calls and the face times weren’t enough.

“ I’ve missed you, love” he says. “ I can’t get some lovin”

He hang his head like he accepted that he wasn’t going to get some love from you after all and started to walk away when your hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him around. He had smile on his face knowing you were going to do that.

“ What are you all smiling about?”

“ I win” he says, picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you over to the couch where he got on top of you and kissed your face wherever he found space for his lips to land on. You couldn’t stop giggling, holding onto his shoulder as he laughed along with you. He made the kisses loud that you can hear them.

He was getting his lovin in.

He stops and raises his head to ask you about something that has been on his mind for awhile now.

“ What is it?” You notice the look on his face changing into seriousness.

“ I wanted your opinion on what you thought about going on a trip together?”

“ Right now?” You asked. He shrugged and nodding his head.

“ Dacre, I have work and you have projects coming up” He sat up and moving away from you thinking you didn’t like his idea and goes silent. He usually gets upset when he get quiet and becomes to himself.

“ Baby” you grab onto his hand wanting him to understand the situation better but he refuses to look at you. You slide onto his lap, putting with either leg on either sides of him and cupping his face with both your hands.

“ That’s not what I meant” His eyes bore into yours waiting for you to say what you needed to say. “ I love traveling with you, you know that, right?” He nods and urges you continue. He is patient when it comes to what you want to tell him even if it’s difficult to say it.

“ You know how work won’t let me go, I have been busy and you have these projects coming up that I am so proud your doing. I’m always proud of the things you do”

He nods again.

“ Let me talk to my boss and we can go form there, how does that sound?”

He takes a hold of your hands in his hand kisses your fingertips.

“ Okay, love. I’m not mad at you” he says. He knows how you are and communication is important in your relationship with him. You don’t know how you got to be with him in the first place either. You have many doubts all the time when you look at him and think to yourself how gorgeous he is.

“ Hey” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts noticing the distant look on your face.

“ Hm?”

“ You were in your head, weren’t you?” He asked. You slide off of him to his much disappointment and make your way back into the kitchen knowing your coffee was cold now. He follows you back into the kitchen.

“ Where did you go in there?” He asked pointing to his own head but meaning to yours. He saw that you got lost in there and sometimes he worries about you. He knows you don’t think positive sometimes and it hurts him.

“ I was just thinking on how I landed you. I mean, have you looked at you?” He glances down at himself, shrugging not seeing anything special about himself when you playfully smack his chest.

“ You’re absolutely out of my league. But I am so glad I landed you” his mouth drops open as he points to himself. He closes his mouth and shakes his head.

“ Stop that, I’m not. Have you looked at you?” You glance down at yourself not really liking what you saw. “ Hey, none of that” he reaches out with his finger to trace the frown on your face. “ I don’t want to see that. I didn’t see that” he says.

“ But I-“ he puts a finger to your lips hushing you.

“ You’re beautiful just the way you are and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Your cheeks become red not really getting used to compliments fully yet.

“ Awe look at you” he gushes reaching over to pinch your cheeks, loving how cute you look right now. You swat his hand away and instead he brings you close, tugging on his bottom lips as he looked at you.

“ What?” He shakes his head.

“ Look how pretty you are” he brought you closer to him and pecking your nose. “ My coffee is cold.”

“ I’ll make you some tea, how about that?” Your nose scrunched up. It’s not that you didn’t like tea, but you needed coffee right now.

“ How about I give you something else instead? He asked with a smirk appearing on his face.

“ What’s that?” His smirk widens and then your eyes widen knowing what he means. “Dacre!” He laughs, throwing his head back going to remake your coffee for you. This man was something else.

You hadn’t had the time to talk to your boss, always in a meeting or walking around the building where you either were chasing him down or you were sitting waiting for him in your chair while you worked.

“ Do you know-“ you were going to ask about your bosses schedule from his receptionist when he happened to walk by with his briefcase by his side.

“ Sir!” You hopped out of your chair and raced towards him as he headed to the elevators.

He turned to you just as he pressed the button to go up.

“Ah, Miss Y/N, what a pleasure to see you. How can I help you?” He asked.

“ Um, I’ve been meaning to talk to you sir” He rose his eyebrow urging you to continue.

You didn’t know how to start but remembered that your boyfriend really wanted to take this trip. He’s been away filming and he doesn’t like being away from you way too long. He wants to spend more time with being away from everyone.

He wants a gateway between the two of you.

“ It’s about having some time off” he hummed.

“ Did you use your vacation time?” You nodded your head, sadly looking at the floor.

“ Then I’m afraid you can’t take time off. This business really needs a bright person like you. You’re one of my best employees and I would hate to fire you.”

You nodded your head that you understood.

The elevator doors opened and stepped inside but as the doors were about to close, your boss hand reached out to stop it catching your attention. You had hoped he changed his mind.

“ Don’t look so glum Miss Y/N, it’s a beautiful day out” he says with a smile on his face.

“ Yes sir” you nodded your head, turning around to head back to your desk.

“ Did he approve it?” Your co worker asked.

“ No” you sighed sitting in your chair, Dacre wasn’t going to be too happy about this. Later that night when you arrive home, Dacre was in his office finishing up a meeting he was doing for his upcoming projects and he put them on hold for a bit, wanting to spend time with you. He had hoped you’d go on this gateway with him.

You set the dinner on the table and grabbing your own heading to the living room to turn on the TV while you were having your dinner. Dacre walked out of his office spotting your shoes by the door and your bag on the floor. His head turned to the sound of television coming from the living room seeing you were eating in there this time.

“ I didn’t know you were off work” he says making his way over to you and moves some strands of hair away from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead. “ Did you have good day?” You motioned to him that you were eating with full amount of food in your mouth. Your eyes never left the TV.

Dacre sat by you while you swallowed your phone.

“ Your food is on the dining room table” you tell him going back to eating.

“ I asked you if you had a good day” he says leaning back in his seat.

“ It was okay” you answered glancing at your plate and not once glancing at your boyfriend which he found really upsetting.

“ What happened?” He asked shifting his way over to you and taking your plate away from you setting it on the coffee table and pulling you into his arms.

“ Did someone say something to you? Should I walk into your work to throw hands?” He was trying to make you laugh and that was not even work as you remained silent.

“ Please talk to me, love” he says taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lap.

“ I talked to my boss today” He nodded urging you to go on and that he was listening.

“ He didn’t approve of the time I wanted off, we can’t go on our gateway”

He stood up from his seat and your hand slipped away from yours and he headed towards the door, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys.

“ Dacre” you called out to him but he wasn’t listening as he continued his way to the door. “Babe” you called out to him again and grabbed onto his shoulder to stop him from opening the door.

“ Where are you going?” You asked.

“ I’m going to talk to your boss”

“ Everyone left already for the day, and I don’t want to get fired..”

“ You don’t even like your job, love and I am not going to stand this. I want to have you with me when we go away, I want you to relax and not think about anything other than being with me..”

“ Okay” you nodded, not wanting to fight with him. He kisses your forehead and takes your hand as he leads you into the dining room.

“ Please eat with me, I will feel lonely here” he says. “ I need my cuddle bug” he adds.

“ You’re lucky you’re so cute” you say going to grab your food and join him for dinner.

The next day you walked into work with your boyfriend by your side. No one really knew you were dating Dacre Montgomery. You heard little gasps come from the woman around and whispers.

Dacre turned his head with an eyebrow raised hearing them.

“ They don’t exactly know I’m dating you” he softly smiled at that, you respected the relationship and the privacy of not sharing this information. He liked it.

“ Which floor is your boss on?” He asked pushing the elevator button.

“ His office is on the 11th floor but I am not are if he’s in the office today”

“ Oh I’ll find him, don’t you worry about it” he says reaching over to peck on your cheek.

Your boss was on the 11th floor today standing over looking the files when he heard the sound of an unfamiliar voice that he didn’t know belonged to someone. Let alone an Australian voice. He rose his head in time to meet your boyfriend calling his name and you right behind him.

The receptionist eyes grew big as she realized who you were with.

“ What can I do for you?” Your boss asked him.

“I believe my lovely girlfriend” he motions with his hands towards you were you stood looking at the ground not knowing what to say and letting Dacre handle this.

“ She has asked for some time off yesterday, and you didn’t approve it”

“ That’s right” your boss nodded.

“ Well that’s a shame I was going to take her around Europe” your head snapped up hearing where he wanted to take you. “ You see, I’ve been away filming for months, close to year and being away from her hurts me the most. Now, I know business man to business man, you should understand how business works.”

“ What are you getting at?” Your boss asked.

“ You either give her time off or she’s walking out that door and never coming back”

“ Dacre I-“ he put a finger up telling you to not say a word.

“ That’s nonsense, she wouldn’t leave this company”

“ Oh yeah? Try her, old man” Dacre says.

Your boss huffs.

“ Sir, I suggest you give her time off. This is Dacre Montgomery, he’s an actor and-“ your boss puts his hand up at his receptionist to get her to stop talking. He clears his throat.

“ She is welcomed to leave if she wants” your mouth drops, “ Sir” you started to say when your boyfriend looks over at you.

“ This job-“ you didn’t get to say when Dacre makes his way over to you and takes a hold of your hand. “ We’re leaving” he says.

When you two got into the elevators, he’s leaning against the wall while you frowning at him.

“ Oh don’t look at me like that, you hated this job and I did you a favor” you weren’t saying a word to him as the elevator opens and stepping off heading to the way to the car. He followed you with his own sigh as he tried to catch up with you.

“You’re always coming home tired and telling me how much your boss frustrates you. You always tell me how your co workers are nosy about your life, even about your love life which makes me happy that you haven’t told anyone. Thank you, and you always tell you want to find something else. Why not look for something to make yourself happy?”

“ I appreciate what you wanted to do, but I look forward to having conversation with my co workers and doing what I can at this job”

“ I’m sorry, I just wanted us to get away from this all. I wanted to spend time with you, is that too much to ask?”

“ You’re right, I’m sorry” you apologized turning to look at him when he reached out with his hand to give it a small squeeze.

The two of your were headed home, you were sure that he already got tickets for you both even if you were staying at the job. You just knew how he worked. He plans everything ahead of time.

“ Europe, huh?” He smiles reaching over to take your hand in his hand bring up to his lips, kissing it.

“ Thought you might like it since you talk about it all the time”

“ You know how to spoil me” his face beamed with happiness hearing the happiness in your voice as he drove home. He only wanted the best for you and to make you happy.

“ How many bags should I pack?” He chuckled.

“ Two at most, love. It’s going to be nice weather there, and we’re staying at this really nice resort that’s near the beach.”

“ Of course you picked one that’s near the beach” he laughs telling it’s not really Europe you guys are going. He used that as something that came to his head when he was talking.

“ Then, where are you taking me?” He shrugged without giving you answer.

“ You’re no fun. How am I suppose to pack when I don’t know were we’re going?

“ I told you that we’re going somewhere where it’s nice weather and you know we’re going to be at the beach more often”

“ You should buy a beach house somewhere since you love it so much”

He looks over to you before looking back at the road.

“ Is that something you want too?”

“ It would be nice, I love listening to the waves and swimming. But the water is nothing compared to the way your blue eyes shine at me when you look at me” he wasn’t really expecting such a compliment at that. His cheeks redden as he took a turn and you saw the way he was blushing.

“ Oh look at you baby, all red and cute” you reached over to squish his cheeks. He swatted your hand away, giving you a look while he rubbed his cheeks.

“ You see? Now who doesn’t like it?” He mumbled underneath his breath something as he parked the car in front of the house you two lived in.

For the next day you were packing two bags like he said you should, throwing in casual clothes, bathing suits, you know it, you threw it in there. Dacre was already packed as he spend his time writing on his laptop while you were busy packing.

“Thank you for helping me” you sarcastically say coming around to kiss him on the cheek. You didn’t know what he was working on and didn’t want to disturb him so you headed towards the kitchen to grab a drink. It was really nice out that you wanted to sit out on the porch.

You grabbed a glass of wine and head out back to have some time on your own. But it wasn’t too long as Dacre stepped out, sliding the doors as he joined you.

“ I’m happy we’re going to get away from all of this” he says looking around the backyard.

“ What? Aways from our home?”

“ No, I mean the people, work, our social life and it will be the two of us”

“ Are you going to tell me where we going?”

“ Brazil” he says. Your eyes widen.

“ It has the longest beach in the world” he says. “ The water is nice too, I heard” he adds.

“ Does it match the color of your eyes?” He laughs as he shrugs.

“Guess you’ll have to find out”

“ What time do we wake up?”

“ Four am” he says. You scrunch up your nose with a sigh.

“ The things I do for you, Montgomery”

“ you’ll be fine, I will get your coffee”

He wrapped his arms around you while you cuddled against him, happy you were getting away from this all even if it was just for a little bit. The alarm woke you up around 3 am in the morning causing you to groan. Dacre was already up and ready to go, he couldn’t sleep much and brought the bags down near the door.

“ Come on, sleepy head. We have to go” you rub your eyes as you sit up. He turned on the bed side lap for you that you can see. He’s already picked out an outfit for you to wear to the airport which was so sweet.

“ Help?” You asked with your hands outstretched. He laughed taking your hand in his and pulling you up and sends you to the bathroom with a slap on your ass.

“ It’s too early for that kind of behavior” he couldn’t stop laughing in the morning while you tried to get yourself together and coming downstairs greeting your boyfriend who had a cup of coffee in his hand waiting for you.

“ Oh the way I love you so much” you leaned up to kiss him, he happily chuckled against your lips and kissed you back.

“ What’s so funny?” You asked, pulling away from him.

“ You and your coffee” he hands you your coffee and you take a sip of it, sighing happily. He shakes his head with another chuckle.

“ Why do you keep laughing at me?” You playfully slap his chest while he pretends that it hurts as he clutches his chest.

“ That hurt, love” he pouts showing his puppy dog eyes which are adorable. He was adorable.

“ Suck it up, you’re a big boy” He narrowed his eyes playfully.

“ What if I don’t want to suck it up?”

“ You have to” he took a step towards you and cups your face with both his hands. Something over came him and he hungrily attacks your lip, sliding his tongue into your mouth and backs you into the door. When your back hits the door, you gasp and he grips your hips tight when you both hear the car door honk outside having to pull away with a laugh.

“ Guess we will have to wait till we get to Greece” you tell him. He growls and grabs the bags while you help him with the other. “ Oh I love you too” you add.

You two head to the car where the driver greets you and helps with the bag. You slide into the back of the car to the window over looking at with coffee in your hands while Dacre slides in next to you and wraps his arms around you.

“ Ready to head to the airport and head to Greece?”

“ You know I would enjoy going anywhere, as long as I get to spend time with you”

His cheeks flushed red and he placed a kiss on your cheeks.

“ I’m so lucky to have you, love” he says.

“ That’s me, you’re the best thing that has happened to in a very long time and I hope it stays that way.”

“ It will, I’m here to stay” you sealed it with a kiss. You could go anywhere with this man, he was your happiness.

#Dacre Montgomery #Dacre Montgomery x you #Dacre Montgomery x reader #Dacre Montgomery x y/n #fluff dacre montgomery #jewls writes

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sserpente · 1 year ago

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Happy Ending

Synopsis: Out of all people you could have been assigned to for your lifeguard training, it had to be Billy Hargrove. You hate the guts out of his cocky and flirty demeanour and during your lessons, Billy has no mercy and it shows—muscle cramps torment your entire body after another intense training session, and (un)fortunately, Billy takes notice and offers to give you a massage. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: Request from anon. You asked, I delivered! But hear me out… what if he gave RC a seductive massage beforehand? ;-)

Words: 2654 Warnings: pure, shameless, and filthy smut

“Ugh…” You groaned, rolling your shoulders. Your lifeguard training was killing you. You’d be as stiff as a piece of log by the time you’d made it through the final exam. That’s how you’d end up saving drowning folk. They’d just use you like a piece of wood.

But you were determined to push through, if anything to prove a point. Billy Hargrove aka the pain of your existence, was pushing you to your fucking limits. Out of all people you could have been assigned to… well, technically, it had been a fifty-fifty chance. But boy, would you have preferred Heather over him.

Billy was a cliché on two legs. A cocky boy from California with abs, a womanizer, and a classic jock—not to mention he preferred to resolve disputes with his fists. You knew what he stood for and what his intentions were with the women he wooed and you hated yourself for being insanely attracted to him. Nothing good would come out of giving in to his recurring flirting attempts. He knew exactly what he was doing—knew about the effect he had on women and he was bathing in it. His ego was too big for his head, that was for sure; and the fact that during your lifeguard lessons, Billy repeatedly had his hands all over your half-naked body didn’t exactly make things easier for you.

You groaned once more, attempting to stretch a little. You had absolutely no idea how you had survived the past hour.

“You okay?” Billy came walking into the changing rooms, still wearing nothing more than his red swimming trunks. He was chewing on gum, a sly smirk playing on his lips when he noticed your struggles. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah… just tense. Muscles cramps.”

“I wasn’t going too… hard on you, was I?” He asked, playfulness playing in his voice. Damn him.

“No… I’m just not used to excessive workouts every day.” You realised your mistake, or rather, your poor word choice, the moment he started grinning.

“Oh, you’re not?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, stop it already. I hate you, remember?”

“I can help you, you know,” he said, unimpressed by my complaint and clearly still amused.

Raising your eyebrows, you glared him down suspiciously. “Oh yeah?”

Billy nodded. “I know a few… massage techniques.”

Your eyes widened and you took, no, jumped a step back.

“Absolutely not!” Billy’s hands slowly gliding all over your body, kneading away the knots? That… that sounded horrifying, it sounded… really hot. Which was why you could, under no circumstances, agree to it.

“Come on… Are you scared it could be… good?” He leaned in close and you cursed internally. Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I’m afraid of, for Fuck’s sake.

“No. I just… I don’t need you of all people to massage me, Billy. If I need to release some tension, I’ll go to a professional.” You winced, again slapping yourself mentally for your poor word choice. Billy chuckled.

“Follow me.”

You didn’t know why but you did. Billy led you to the lifeguard office in the back of the building. There wasn’t much in here—just some equipment, first aid kits, a surprisingly neat desk, and a low treatment table for injured pool guests.

“Lie down, stomach down.” He pointed at the treatment table. You hesitated. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. So why the fuck did you move toward it and did as you were told?

“Is it just your shoulders and your back?” Billy went to grab something from the sink area—you could only assume it was some sort of massage oil. You doubted this was part of the equipment here, he must have brought it himself at some point.

“Yeah…” you croaked out.

You tensed, staring at the wall and avoiding his gaze at any cost when Billy slid the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders and then proceeded to pour some massage oil into his hands. He rubbed them together, the soothing sound sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine, and then… you felt his hands on you.

Billy’s fingers were surprisingly soft and yet, they went to town firmly. A moan escaped your lips when he located the knots and began to massage them away.

“Told you I’m good,” he purred. You groaned by way of a response. Because the fucker was right. It felt amazing. He felt amazing. Billy knew exactly what he was doing—you didn’t even protest when, after a while, he pulled your swimsuit down further to reveal the entirety of your back. Up and down his hands went, exploring your bare skin and working away all of the tension his training had caused in the first place.

You could get used to this. You could fall asleep to this. Fall asleep and dream of Billy’s hands further down… no, stop! That’s exactly what he wants to achieve!

You were about to protest and opened your mouth when he travelled south with a start, testing the tense flesh on the back of your thighs. He tsked at you when his thumbs rolled over the knots and tense spots.

“I don’t think you were completely honest with me, doll.”

“I’m fine…”

“Flip over,” he suddenly said.

You ripped your eyes open, only realising now that you had closed them. You were naked from the waist up. If you turned around now, you’d give him a full front-row view of your tits. He wished, huh?

“I’m good, Billy.”

“Flip. Over,” he repeated. His voice was darker now, almost a little intimidating and… taunting in the most delicious and fuck, sexual way.

Grunting, you pulled your swimsuit back up just enough for it to cover your breasts and rolled on your back, meeting his blue eyes and staring daggers at him. He only chuckled.

“You’re really cute when you’re pretending to be angry.”

“I’m not pretending. I am angry.” Angry at how good it felt. Angry at how good he made you feel.

Billy smirked and poured some more oil into his palms. Next thing you knew, he was working your thighs so thoroughly that you tensed up in order not to wriggle around.

“Relax, babe…” Ha, easy for him to say. You had no doubt that he was enjoying this, perhaps even more than you were. Especially when his thumbs moved toward dangerous territory. Again and again, he grazed your inner thighs just a little too close to where you kept claiming he didn’t have an effect on you. A circumstance that was getting harder and harder to deny because fuck, you were growing wet. You could already feel the heat pooling between your legs, your breathing quickening.

And before you even knew it, your legs fell open further, inviting him in. It was over there and then. Fuck it. Fuck him, literally. You could only hope he had locked the door behind him. He won. He fucking won.

Your lips parted as Billy’s hands took the invitation. You bucked your hips the moment his thumb brushed directly over your still clothed clit, your nails digging into the treatment table, though this time, he didn’t tell you to relax. Instead, he did it again. And again. And again.

For a brief moment, he paused. And then, when you didn’t protest, he slowly pushed the thin stripe of fabric out of the way to reveal your glistening pussy to his greedy eyes. You were panting at this point, lost in the pleasure he was promising you without even speaking a word.

His fingers were slippery with the massage oil, his left thumb slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped when you felt him push two fingers inside of you. He fucked you languidly, savouring every single second and you bucked your hips and arched your back, meeting his thrusts, silently begging for more.

You almost flinched upon hearing his seductive voice again. “I think that swimsuit needs to go, doll. It’s in the way… and we wouldn’t want to get massage oil all over it, now would we?”

Biting your lower lip, you hummed in agreement. All of a sudden, you did not mind him seeing you topless anymore at all. Quite on the contrary—it turned you on even more knowing that you’d be lying before him completely exposed, all his for the taking.

Billy did all the work for you. He removed his fingers from your pussy and chuckled when you whined at the loss. He then hooked his fingers into the hem of your swimsuit, pulling it all the way down—at an antagonisingly slow speed—to your ankles. You kicked them off, unable to hide your trembling. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this aroused, except, perhaps, this one time you’d been unable to fall asleep and instead decided to masturbate to the thought of Billy fucking you. Shit, you were a goner. A complete and utter goner.

“Jesus, I knew you’d look even hotter without the swimsuit.”

You moaned in response, still unable to meet his gaze. You kept your eyes shut, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when his left hand cupped one of your breasts as if they’d been made for him. His other hand returned to your slick cunt. Sweet, wet noises echoed through the otherwise empty room as he fingerfucked you all the while the hand on your breast kept teasing your hardening nipple. By the time he moved on to the other breast, you were breathing heavily, a warm knot tightening in your stomach��fast.

And yet again, you had to admit… Billy knew exactly what he was doing, working you toward what already felt like the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. His voice alone almost tipped you over the edge.

“Do you wanna come, babe?” he rasped.

“Please…” You barely recognised your own voice at this point. Begging Billy Hargrove for an orgasm… you’d most definitely lost your marbles.

But before you could slap yourself for your horny stupidity, you fell. Billy made you see stars, his fingers working your cunt like an instrument and hitting all the right keys. You clenched around his fingers, drenching them in your juices as your toes curled and you came hard.

He made sure help you ride it out before he released you, wet hands gliding all over your bare body. He massaged your breasts for a little while until you came back to your senses, your eyes still closed in pure and utter bliss. You didn’t protest when he tilted your head and stroked your neck.

For just a brief moment, he stopped touching you. Then, you felt something hard pressing against your parted lips. You didn’t care what you were, didn’t care that he was a player and would move on to the next girl after this. You didn’t even care that you were supposed to hate him. You wanted Billy and you wanted him now. His cock in your mouth seemed like a good place to start.

Moaning with relish, you closed your lips around his tip and sucked gently, testing the waters. You’d given a couple of blowjobs before but with him, you felt the odd need to impress with your skills. The results were almost immediate. Billy sucked in air audibly when you took him deeper, tongue darting forward to tease his slit. He pushed forward slightly—surprisingly patient, he let you take him inch by inch at your own pace until you rolled over to taste him properly.

You were done for the very moment you tasted a salty drop of precum on your tongue. Accompanied by another moan, you started bopping your head up and down, your left hand busying itself with his tight balls. You released him with a smacking noise, right hand covering what you could not take, and suckled on his tip like a popsicle before licking over the entire underside of his shaft.

“Fuck…” Billy threw his head back just when you opened your eyes. Pleased with his reaction, you repeated the motion and then took him in your mouth again, faster this time. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, thrusting forward now and slowly taking control. You let him. You let him fuck your mouth until your gag reflex hit and your eyes were watering and yet, when he pulled out of your mouth, leaving your lips swollen and tingling, you made a disappointed noise.

“Where?” was all he said. You bit your lower lip and nodded toward the desk. He didn’t need to elaborate on his question. You knew exactly what he meant and quite frankly, you were too far gone to back out now.

“Condom?” you breathed out as you slid off the treatment table and approached the desk naked, your limbs still trembling a little from your intense orgasm earlier.

“Yeah…” You figured he went to grab one from his bag stored away in the corner, always prepared for a quick fuck with a girl he’d wrapped around his finger for sport. As much as you attempted to force yourself to, you couldn’t complain about it. Not right now. Not when you were desperate for him to finally fuck you and get that remaining tension—the tension between the two of you—out of the way.

Billy didn’t disappoint. His blue eyes were dark with lust when he returned to you without his trunks and quite an impressive erection still glistening from your saliva under the thin latex of the condom. He flipped you around so your hips hit the edge of the desk and bent you forward, fingertips ghosting over your spine.

You shivered, your lips parting to beg him to put it in already when he knocked all air from your body. Billy sank himself into you with but one eager thrust, a groan escaping his lips in the process. He grabbed your hips tightly, holding you in place for him as he began to fuck you, withdrawing almost entirely only to plunge back in so forcefully your breathing became uneven.

Your hands reached for the opposite edge of the desk to hold on to something, your legs almost dangling in the air. On your tiptoes, you kept your arse lifted to meet his hungry strokes. Hunting his own pleasure now, you could all but let your eyes roll the back of your head. He was fucking you so good… Billy hit all the right spots inside you and his stamina… fuck, all of the other guys you had been with would have creamed their pants long before you could have brought your lips anywhere near their dick.

It felt good… it felt so good… oh god.

“You gonna come for me again, babe?”

You nodded and hummed in response, too dazed for a coherent answer, feeling yourself tightening around his hard cock right before you exploded a second time. Pleasure coursed through your body, filling you from head to toe.

Billy grunted. He fucked you through your climax relentlessly, stilled only moments later when his own release overwhelmed him and he emptied himself into the condom. Shit, for a second you wished you’d have asked him to fuck you raw just so you could feel him coating your walls with his seed. You whined when he withdrew. But there was always a next time. You’d make sure of it.

You were certain now that you didn’t actually hate Billy Hargrove. You had hated how much you had wanted him.

“I think I’ll need a… ‘massage’ after every training session from now on. Your lessons are so exhausting,” you said, panting.

Billy helped you turn around and stand up straight, naked bodies pressed against each other. He grinned, his lips ghosting over yours. “You know what, I think so too, doll.”

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things imagine #dacre montgomery

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dazedandconfused-15 · 3 months ago

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Heaven's in your eyes (Part 4)

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment and reblog this story, I'm really glad you're sticking with me on this journey!!

If you're enjoying it, a reblog would mean a lot to me and really helps get this fanfic out there! 🫶

Enjoy...

Link to: Part 1 Part 2, and Part 3

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @nocturnest @the-freak-cassie-313 @rainy-darling @nina-from-317

From then on, you become much more observant. Billy and you meet up after school to do homework, go for walks, grab some food or just hang out. You start noticing small details, like how sometimes his shirt is buttoned up a bit higher than usual, even in warm weather. Occasionally, you catch sight of a bruise on his skin. You refrain from bombarding him with questions, but it's challenging to stay silent when the wounds are obvious. Thankfully, it's never as severe as that night he showed up battered. You quickly understand that this topic is off-limits for him, so you let it go, hoping that someday, he'll feel comfortable enough to open up to you.

For the first time in what feels like ages, happiness seeps into your days. Suddenly, the world seems brighter, nights feel less daunting, and even the mundane surroundings regain a hint of color. But deep down, you know this fragile balance won't last.

And just like that, everything shifts during a Wednesday afternoon gym class. You're deep into a basketball game. A teammate passes you the ball, and with quick reflexes, you snatch it and charge towards the basket. It all happens in a blur, catching you off guard, until a sharp pang shoots through your knees as they collide with the unforgiving, polished wood of the gym floor. Your heart races as you instinctively extend your arms, just in time to protect your face from the impact. Amid the chaos, the coach's whistle cuts through the noise, and through the fog of pain, a pair of trainers come into focus right before your eyes.

“What happened?”

“She tripped, Coach,” says the voice belonging to the person in those shoes. Your gaze shifts upward, meeting the mocking eyes of Tina Williams. She stands with one hand on her hip, casually chewing her gum. A moment later, she steps aside as the coach kneels in front of you.

The contrast is stark—where there was once the commotion of squeaking shoes and shouts, there's now a hushed stillness. Half the class has gathered around, watching in silence.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" the coach asks you, resting his hand on your arm.

deliberately tripped you, sending you crashing to the floor. The pain in your knees isn't unbearable, but your skin is clearly scraped. The sting from where they hit the ground and slid across the floor is still sharp.

"Oh man, we need to disinfect these," the coach remarks, examining your peeling, reddened knees where raw flesh is visible. "I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

"No, no. It's fine." you say, your voice slightly shaky as he helps you to your feet. "It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," you murmur, catching the faint snickers of Vicky Muller and Carol Perkins as they whisper to Tina, their voices low but filled with amusement.

The coach makes you sit on the benches for the rest of the hour. As the game continues, you become a spectator in every sense—watching the game and the entire situation unfold, feeling completely disconnected from your own body. Your mind drifts, detaching from everything around you. You’re certain Tina tripped you on purpose, but the reason eludes you. Anxiety gnaws at you, leaving a pit in your stomach. When the game finally ends, you follow your classmates into the locker room, keeping your eyes downcast, avoiding any confrontations. All you want is to leave, to escape this uncomfortable situation.

But as you open your locker, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Reluctantly, you turn, only to find yourself face-to-face with Tina. Vicky stands beside her, arms crossed, with an expression that clearly shows she's anticipating some entertainment, barely able to contain her laughter.

Tina nods toward your knees. “How are your knees?”

You want to snap back, to demand what her problem is, but instead, you choose the path of least resistance. Maybe if you play along, this will all blow over.

“It’s nothing serious. It’ll pass,” you say, forcing a small smile before turning back to your locker.

Tina snorts, and there’s a brief, tense silence. “What’s your deal with Billy?”

Your hand freezes in mid-motion as everything suddenly clicks into place. Slowly, you turn back to her, realizing there’s no avoiding this conversation.

You decide to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“Did I stutter?”

You swallow, taking in her mocking expression. The locker room falls silent as your classmates stop what they’re doing to watch the scene unfold. In the background, Carol wears a wicked smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I barely know him,” you say, trying to diffuse the situation, not wanting any trouble.

You know that Billy had gone out with Tina a few times not too long ago. It was supposedly nothing serious and ended as quickly as it began. Rumor has it that after they’d hooked up in his Camaro, he drove her home and never called her again.

“Please. You think we’re dumb?” Vicky chimes in. “We’ve seen you hanging with him.”

“I…”

“Listen, honey,” Tina cuts you off, unfolding her arms and stepping toward you. Her tone is anything but sweet, almost aggressive. “I don’t care what the hell you’re up to. But stop it.”

“Wha…”

“You really think he’d be interested in someone like you? Take a good look at yourself,” she sneers, her gaze sweeping over you, making you instantly self-conscious. “Make sure you’re not carrying fleas before you get near guys like Billy. God knows what’s lurking in that cesspool you call home.”

“Or STDs,” Carol chimes in with a smirk. “Like mother, like daughter.”

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, the pain in your knees forgotten as a deeper ache settles in. The room is filled with your classmates, yet you’ve never felt so alone. Some stand in silent shock, others hold back amused grins, enjoying the spectacle.

“So yeah, stay away from him. Got it?” Tina snaps her bubble gum, her eyes daring you to respond.

They don’t wait for an answer, turning away and leaving you frozen in place. As you open your locker and reach for your clothes, you realize with a sinking feeling that they’re soaked. Water drips onto the floor, soaking your sneakers, and panic rises in your chest. You quickly grab your backpack, hoping it’s unharmed, but find it just as wet, the contents inside ruined.

Murmurs and giggles fill the room as Tina’s voice drifts over again, soft but cutting. “Sorry about that. Maybe next time you’ll know your place.”

You leave school wearing your damp clothes, shivering as the rain falls down on you. The thought of enduring two more hours of English literature is unbearable. Despite your efforts to dry your clothes and backpack, the dampness clings to you, making the weight of it all feel heavier. The mile-long walk home feels endless as your mind replays the scene in the gym and locker room. You wonder how you could have been so naive, so foolish to think you could find a bit of happiness without something going wrong. The cold air stings your wet cheeks, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, your eyes fixed on the ground. Your knees burn, but nothing compares to the deep, burning shame inside you.

When you finally reach home, you’re grateful your father is still at work, sparing you from having to explain why you’re home early or why you look so miserable. You retreat to the shower, letting the hot water pour over you until the steam is so thick you can’t even see the tiles. Later, you curl up on the couch under a blanket, staring blankly at the TV, your mind far away. The phone rings, breaking the silence, but you don’t have the energy to answer it. Whoever is calling is persistent, though, and the ringing continues.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pick up the receiver, trying to keep your voice from sounding hollow.

“Hello?”

“It’s Billy.”

His warm voice is like a balm, soothing your frayed nerves, but it also brings back the harsh memories of the day. The ugly events replay in your mind, and guilt washes over you as you imagine him waiting by his Camaro, only to realize you wouldn’t be showing up.

“I’m sorry. Sorry about that,” you croak, clearing your throat. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“What happened?”

“I’m just under the weather. That’s all. I think I’m getting sick.”

A heavy silence hangs between you as you twist the phone cord around your fingers, the tension in your grip turning your skin white. You can only hear your own breathing, and you hope desperately that he believes you, that he won’t push for more.

“You sure?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, I promise. I just need to rest.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Hey, Billy?” you blurt out, stopping yourself before your voice cracks. The knot in your throat tightens as you struggle with the urge to be honest with him. It doesn’t seem fair to lie, knowing this might be one of the last times you hear his voice. “Thanks for calling,” you manage to say once you’re sure your voice won’t break.

“Don’t mention it. Bye, sweetheart.”

You hang up before you can respond, the warmth of his endearment slicing through you, leaving you on the verge of tears. It’s not just him—it’s everything. The whole situation weighs on you. You glance at the picture of you and your mom on the hall shelf, taken when you were just two years old in her arms. Your dad still keeps it, a reminder of the past. Billy has managed to make your life easier, not by making you forget, but by showing you that happiness was still possible. But today, all those old wounds are reopened. The void left by her, and now by him, feels deeper than ever. That’s the risk of letting people into your life—they eventually leave, and all you’re left with is the emptiness they once filled.

You stay home for the next two days. On Friday, it still hasn’t stopped raining. The day drags on endless, each hour feeling like an eternity. You struggle to find the strength to peel yourself out of bed, your stomach tied in knots, rendering breakfast an impossible feat. As rain continues to patter against the window, casting a dreary backdrop, you find yourself lost in a numb trance, gazing blankly at the vivid greenery outside. Only in the afternoon does your hunger finally overpower the turmoil within, prompting you to rustle up a simple cheese toast to appease your growling stomach. Settling in front of the TV, you attempt to distract yourself from the weight of the day's events. By the late afternoon, as your dad arrives home, you force yourself to summon a facade of composure, determined not to burden him with worries. Then the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your trance, and you get up to see who's there.

As you open the door, Billy is standing here, his hands on his leather jacket pockets, his gaze wandering off to the side, but turns to look immediately at you. He’s as pretty as the last time you saw him. His eyes lock with yours, making you weak in the knee.

“Oh. Hey.” you softly say, completely taken off guard by his presence on your front door.

“Hey.”

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask, trying your best to not sound rude. You’re just confused.

Billy shrugs. “You didn’t answer when I called. Figured I would come to you instead.”

His response leaves you speechless. You’re struck by his persistence, amazed that he hasn’t grown tired of you, given his tendency to quickly lose interest in people. He says it so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it stirs something inside you that you can’t quite put into words.

Amusement flicks over his face. “You gonna let me in, or what?”

You excuse yourself by straightening up from your position against the door, opening it wide to let him in. Billy wipes his shoes on the doormat before stepping in. A strange energy seems to be unleashed when your bodies are close to each other. It makes you feel electric. You’ve never believed in those things, but it’s almost like your auras are touching.

You look up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you look at each other.

“Sorry, my dad’s here,” you say as you see him look up behind you toward the living room.

Although very subtle, you notice how his body tenses up when your father approaches him and you introduce Billy to him. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Your dad shakes his hand, a warm smile on his face. “Ah, so you must be Billy. She keeps talking about you.”

Billy lets out a nervous chuckle, briefly glancing at you. You find yourself looking at the ground, cheeks flushed. "Hope she said good things."

“All I can say is that you’re good to her, son. Haven’t seen my daughter smiling this often in a long time. She never talks to me about her friends.” he rests his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“I’m glad to hear that.” you can feel Billy’s eyes on you, boring a hole through your skin. “She’s good to me too.”

Your dad gestures toward the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet? We made some roasted chicken tonight, it’s delicious.”

Billy shakes his head. “Thank you, sir, I had dinner earlier.”

“Come have a drink then.” your dad already walks backward to the kitchen. “What can I get you?”

“Dad…” you softly say at his enthusiasm. You never have people over. It’s been a long time since you had them. Not since…well. And you understand your dad lights up as a candle with joy. He’s getting too enthusiastic already.

“You look over eighteen. Beer? Some red wine?”

Billy glances at you, his hand in his pockets, then slowly follows him to the kitchen. He looks like a wary animal taking in his surroundings. “Beer is fine. Thank you, sir.”

You follow behind Billy, feeling suddenly so uneasy in your own house. Your eyes follow his broad back as he enters the kitchen, the air already smelling like leather. Like him.

Your dad, with a casual wave of his hand, says, "Ah, don't bother with all those formalities around me.”

Billy leans against the counter as your dad extends an uncapped bottle of beer, clinking it against his own. You notice how he stiffens slightly again when your dad mentions remembering his last name, knowing his father. His attitude becomes more reserved, and he answers with small sentences. Especially when your dad mentions how despite having talked to him only a few times at Melvald’s downtown and the bank, he looks like a tough guy. However, your dad is easygoing and his attitude warm, and slowly, throughout the conversation, Billy seems to ease up too. His shoulders relax, and a real laugh escapes him a time or two. You knew they shared some interests, but you didn’t expect them to talk about California for so long. Your dad recounts his younger years living in there, how he spent his days surfing and working in a garage for his own dad’s friend to get some money. Billy did the same back there. He tells your dad how you mentioned some of it to him, then how many more people there are since the 60s, how Will Rogers State Beach is now crowded with tourists.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything to eat? Hell, there’s plenty of that chicken and it’s only the two of us.” you dad offers again.

Billy settles the empty beer on the counter. “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you. I was hoping to take her on a ride, to get some fresh air if that’s alright with you.”

Your dad looks at you and you give him a small smile, though you didn’t expect or plan any of it. He nods in approval.

“Sure, kids. Be careful, yeah? It was nice to meet you Billy.”

“Same. Thank you for the beer.”

Your dad winks at him. “Anytime. You’re always welcome.”

At first, silence hangs between the two of you. Billy doesn’t mention it as he drives you toward downtown, and your mind is elsewhere. You’re there physically, but your thoughts are consumed by how wrong it feels to be in the car with him. Your plans to keep your distance have been shattered by his unexpected presence. His decision to come to you makes everything ten times harder. You’re unsure how you’ll find the right words to express yourself without offending him—or worse, hurting him. But then again, maybe you’re overthinking it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel as connected to you as you do to him. Chances are, you’ll be the one left hurting in the end.

Billy casually suggests getting a milkshake at the diner, then lapses back into silence, leaving you unsure whether to thank him or ask him to break the quiet. He doesn’t make it easy. When he parks in front of the diner, he opens the passenger door for you. Physical contact has become second nature between you two—small, almost unconscious gestures, especially on his part. But they always send your heart racing. This time, as he touches your back, gently guiding you inside while holding the diner door open, your heartbeat spikes dangerously.

You usually have a sweet tooth, and the milkshakes at Starlight Grill are delicious, but today, your thoughts have robbed you of your appetite. Billy insists you get something, and when you hesitate, he suggests sharing a milkshake.

When the waitress brings the milkshake along with the bill, Billy takes the first sip. You reach into your pocket for some coins.

“What are you doing?”

“Just, paying.” You murmur absent-mindedly, counting the coins. Billy's hand appears in front of you, putting them aside.

“Put that away.”

You sigh, meeting his gaze. "Billy."

He casually slides the milkshake in front of you, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, completely unfazed by your feeble attempts to resist. The purple lights of the diner cast a soft glow, highlighting his features and making his mustache stand out more than usual. You can't help but marvel at how effortlessly handsome he always looks. Meanwhile, you feel out of place in your loose jumper, with no makeup and your hair barely combed.

You notice that there is only one straw in the milkshake. “Oh, they didn’t bring another one.”

“It’s fine. Drink it,” his features shifting to an amused look. “Unless it grosses you out.”

“No, no! Of course not.” you hastily assure him before bringing the straw to your lips. The rich taste of chocolate floods your senses with a pleasant sensation, despite your lack of hunger. You resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of the whipped cream from the top of the milkshake.

“Feel better today?” he asks as he watches you, leaning back against the bench.

“Uh, yes. A bit better.” you lie, your eyes on the table. You’re unable to look at him.

You instinctively tighten your grip on the cold glass of the milkshake, startled by the sudden warmth of his palm on your forehead.

“Yeah. No fever, anyway,” he says.

“How did you do on the test yesterday?” you ask instead, eager to change the topic.

Billy leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he brings the milkshake closer to himself, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Eh, not bad. I think I passed," he replies before taking a sip from the straw. “Jesus, this shit is sweet as hell.” he mutters, peering down at the milkshake as if it personally wronged him.

You let out a soft laugh at his expression. When you sat down, he asked you what flavor you liked and ordered it without hesitation. You realize with a pang of guilt that you hadn't even bothered to ask him if he liked it.

“Sorry… too much?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Just a bit sweet.” he pushes the milkshake toward you, your fingers brushing each other as you take the glass. “I’m more of a savory type of guy.”

"Oh," you sheepishly respond, brushing your thumb against the cold glass to clear away some moisture. “I’m more of a sweet type of girl.”

"You are," he says, his voice carrying a subtle warmth that catches your attention.

You lift your gaze toward him, struck by the underlying tone in his words. Billy dips his pinky in the whipped cream and brings it to his mouth. Red lips suck around the skin, his tongue licking the whipped cream away. You take a sip of the milkshake to distract yourself from the stirring movement in your lower belly.

“So what’s your favorite?” he then casually asks, as if he didn’t just do the most provocative thing ever.

“My what?” you ask as if coming back to reality.

“Your favorite dessert.”

“Oh uhm, I guess my mom’s tiramisu,” you stop to think about all the summers spent eating your mom’s tiramisu in the back of your house in the garden, the happy memory becoming bittersweet. “I didn’t like it when I was younger, I used to make all of those faces when I tasted the coffee.” Billy snorts a soft laugh as he looks at you. “She used to make it all the time when it was warm outside.” you say as you play with the straw.”

“You know how to make it?”

“Yes. She taught me.”

“You’ll have to make me one, someday.”

You meet his eyes, still intently on you, and you lower your gaze while stretching your lips into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. How you wish there was a chance to do this.

“What’s yours?” you ask instead, ignoring how your heart is aching.

Billy hums thoughtfully, dragging the milkshake toward him. “I’d say the tacos from the Mexican joint in Mission Beach. Hands down.”

“What do they put in them?”

Billy sucks on the straw before setting the glass aside. “Okay, so picture this,” he leans his elbows on the table. “They have this way of cooking the beef, it’s tender and juicy ‘cause they dip it in the stew, and it’s seasoned just right."

A smile slowly spreads on your face without you realizing it as he gets enthusiastic about it.

“Then they sprinkle some lime on it.” he mimics the sprinkling, his eyes squinting a tiny bit. "And then there's the crunch of the shell, just crispy enough to contrast with the beef. Then they top it with cheese and jalapeños. Man,” you giggle as he lightly slaps his palm on the table. He turns his head to the side, momentarily lost in thought as he contemplates. “It’s something else.”

“It sounds delicious.” you nod, a laugh escaping your lips.

As Billy looks back at you, his face is closer to yours as you leaned on the table too. His blue eyes bore into yours. “It’s five-star type of food, babe. Unmatched.”

His voice is warm like dripping honey and your stomach flips, his half-lidded gaze trapping you there is both charming and dangerous. You’re scared of the things your body is feeling.

“I wish I could try it.”

“You will. Told you I would take you there.”

He scans your face, catching each of your reactions from up close as your breath hitches in your throat. “I thought you were joking.”

“I never was.”

You wonder what would happen if you just listened to your instincts right now. If only he lifted the sleeves of your sweater, he’d see the goosebumps on your arms. If he could press his ear to your chest, he’d hear your heart racing. But following your instincts feels too risky. A little voice inside reminds you that all this chemistry between you two might just be in your head. You're building castles in the air; your deluded heart is playing tricks on you. Tina’s voice chimes in too: “What would a guy like him want with someone like you?” So, you pull away, and as you do, your heartbeat slows down a little.

You clear your voice, grabbing the milkshake. “Anyway, I better get home soon. It’s almost ten.”

With only a little milkshake left, you finish it without meeting his gaze, deciding to switch the topic to how you caught up with homework while staying at home. He doesn’t comment on it, biting into it and telling you about the history test on that Wednesday.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asks you once on the drive home.

He lowers the volume of the radio, Eagles’ ‘Take it Easy’ reduced to background noise. You hesitate. You don’t know how to tell him. You’ve never been good at cutting ties with people. You’ve never been ready. You never will be.

“I’m just not in a good place right now.”

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Billy responds, his voice low and steady. "But what's got you feeling this way?"

You figure that the best way is to be straightforward, though.

“I know this might sound weird," you begin, already feeling a pang of regret for how you're about to phrase it. Your nails press into the palm of your hands as you twist them together, your eyes locked on the shifting scenery outside. “You’ll probably don’t understand it. But I think we have to stop seeing each other. Hanging around together.”

At first, your words hang heavy in the air, met only with silence that feels like a weight on your chest. You can't help but replay what you just said in your mind, wondering if you came off too harshly. It's a familiar feeling, the aftermath of saying something you can't take back, and in this moment, it feels far too aggressive.

As you battle with yourself, searching desperately for the right words to soften the blow, you find that every script you rehearsed in your head falls short. Billy's silence only adds to your internal turmoil, leaving you mentally slapping yourself for the brutal way you phrased it.

Billy licks his lips. “If I did something wrong,” he starts.

“No, it’s not that.”

“...Or if I made you feel uncomfortable, you gotta tell me.”

“No. Billy, please don’t think that. You haven’t done anything wrong.” you interject quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in reassurance.

He glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road, his expression unreadable. The tension in the car is palpable as he waits for you to explain further.

“I just…” you begin, running a hand through your hair in a nervous gesture. “I don’t think it’s good for you to be around me."

"Huh," he responds, his tone indicating he finds your reasoning perplexing. "What does that mean?"

You begin cautiously, choosing your words carefully, "I'm just not... I'm not exactly the embodiment of happiness, you know? And I don't want to bring you down with me."

"You think you're gonna bring me down?"

You nod slowly, unable to meet his gaze. "I just don't want to drag you into my mess," you admit quietly. “I have a lot to deal with myself. Please believe me when I say that it’s not a good idea.”

"That's it? That's why you think we should stop hanging out?" Billy's voice carries a blend of disbelief and skepticism as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your explanation.

His response catches you off guard. Shouldn't your reason suffice? After all, it's what led to the end of friendships with Nancy and Claire. They understood and let you go. And deep down, you understand that too.

“No, it’s not just that…” you feel increasingly frustrated with the situation, it feels harder than you anticipated.

"Hey, if I'm not your cup of tea, or if I'm making you feel awkward, just say the word. No hard feelings. We can't all be everyone's favorite flavor. But let's keep it real, yeah?"

"No, it's not that at all, Billy!" you blurt out, your voice rising slightly with surprise. "I like you. I really do," you continue, your voice softening as shyness creeps in at the urgency of your confession. As you speak, Billy pulls the car to a stop in front of your place. "More than anyone else in this whole town."

Billy doesn’t talk for what seems like an eternity. You don’t dare to look at him. After almost a minute, he finally breaks the silence. “Okay, what is it, then?”

“It’s just…wrong.”

“Wrong?” he says. “Look, it’s not like I have a girlfriend and I’m ditching her to hang out with you or something.”

“Well, Tina doesn’t seem to be on the same page,” you mumble to yourself out of instinct.

Billy frowns. “What?”

That’s when you realize you talked out loud. You sigh, looking out of the window. You really hoped to avoid this conversation. It just feels wrong to use a lame excuse. You don’t wanna do that. It’s not working, anyway. You figure the best way to put it without having to unravel the whole thing.

“I don’t know what you guys are to each other-…”

“I fucked her once. That’s it.”

You wince at his words, carrying on. “...but she made pretty clear that I should stay away from you.”

At first you’re met with silence, but then Billy's reaction is a mix of disbelief and irritation. He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “She's nuts," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration. "Can't believe her. Jesus."

As you fidget with your hands in your lap, a sense of resignation washes over you. That doesn’t change things. You made up your mind already. They succeeded pretty well in making you see things for what they are. In a very sadistic way, that’s for sure. It is the reality nonetheless.

“Listen, don’t pay attention to her.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s kinda hard, she’s really committed to making my life a living hell.”

Billy's expression shifts, his gaze now fixed on you with newfound seriousness. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just…” you sigh. “It’s just what I said. Bottom line is, I’m not good for you, Billy. I’m messed up and I can’t give anything good. You should be spending time with people who are stable, who have something to offer.”

Billy turns his attention back to the trailer ahead. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he pieces together the puzzle. Before you can prepare yourself, he's already connecting the dots.

He scratches his chin, then looks back at you. “Does it have to do with you ditching school for the past days?” his tone calm but unwavering.

Your answer is instinctive and almost too immediate. "No, that's..." you start, but Billy cuts you off with a knowing look.

“Don't lie to me.”

You know if there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s when people lie to him. He told you that before. There is no way out of this. If anything surprises you about Billy, it’s his emotional intelligence. His ability to understand what you feel just like that. How he easily and often picks up what’s on your mind. You explain everything that happened to him, noticing how his face hardens progressively as you recount the events that have weighed heavily on you. From that moment Tina deliberately tripped you up in gym class, sending you sprawling to the ground in front of everyone, to the tense confrontation in the locker room. You feel drained after talking, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck those bitches.” he growls, his voice thick with anger.

“They’re right though. We really are different.”

“Different in what? I’m a guy, you’re a girl. But then?”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, your eyes fixed on the window.

“Well, tell you what, I like spending time with you. That’s all I know,” you turn in surprise at how bluntly he said those words. “Did we ever argue or anything?”

You think back on all the times you've spent together. Whenever you were with him, it felt like everything else faded away, and it was just the two of you against the world. There was never any arguing or discord between you; instead, he had a knack for making you forget about any troubles or worries you had. Being with him was like finding a safe haven, a place where you could just be yourself and feel at peace.

“No,” you admit, feeling a knot form in your throat.

“Do you feel any different when it’s just you and me?”

“No.”

“Are you ever bored when we hang out?”

“No, never.” you breathe out, shaking your head.

“Me neither. So it’s sorted.”

“Billy, I’m…I’m complicated. My life is complicated.”

He shrugs, shifting in his seat. “I like complicated.”

Billy's stubbornness despite the doors you're trying to close between you is overwhelming both in the best and worst way.

“I just don't think you really know what you're doing," you protest weakly, unable to shake the nagging doubts that linger in the back of your mind.

“Pretty sure I do.”

“Billy,” heat rises in your cheeks as shame gnaws at your insides, your heart weighing heavy. It's hard for you to acknowledge it, let alone put it into words. “Look at me,” you point at yourself, your throat burning.

Billy's eyes scan your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his features. “I am.”

You shake your head, your throat feels ready to burst from how much it hurts. “No. Look at you, then look at me. Look at this,” you gesture toward the darkened trailer.

“You serious?”

“I am. Trust me, you don’t want to…”

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart. Come on, now. Look at me.”

You realize Billy has leaned over the console as he gently grasps your chin. “I don’t care. All I know is that I like you, alright? I don’t give a shit about the rest.”

His words cut through you, threatening to shatter the fragile barrier holding your emotions at bay. His thumb delicately traces the curve of your chin as his piercing blue eyes search yours. Frozen in place, you dare not move or speak, afraid that the slightest exhale might betray the storm of emotions raging within you.

“You hear me?” he drops his head slightly, as he softly shakes your chin to get your attention, his eyes finding yours. “I don’t care.”

You content to nod, a tear breaking free and running down your cheek. Billy licks his lips, his face inching closer to yours. “C’mere.”

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels as ancient as time itself, as though you've shared this in a thousand other lives. It's tender, lingering, filled with an unspoken longing that resonates deep within you. As you lose yourself in the kiss, his breath dances with yours, and you taste tobacco, mint and something distinctly him on his tongue, sending a wave of euphoria through you. Your hand instinctively rises, fingers curling gently around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, yearning for more. Your heart is beating so fast you swear it’s going to explode. As you break the kiss first in search of oxygen, you’re vaguely aware of his mouth seeking yours, his face tilting forward, his half-open eyes unfocused. His fingers travel on the back of your neck, curling around it and pressing your lips more firmly against his. It’s so good that it doesn’t feel real, your body is the only thing you're aware of. It's ablaze, your heart thundering in your chest, your breath resonating in the car. But he’s here too, he’s real. Real as one can be when you feel his hot skin against your fingers where you’re holding his shirt, as his mustache tickles your mouth, then your cheek, your neck.

He’s certainly real when his voice comes as a muffled and open-mouthed whisper against your skin, buried between your neck and your hair between kisses.

“God, baby.”

It’s a soft plead, a gentle need that swells your heart. Your fingers are tangled through his curls at the nape of his neck. They’re as soft as you imagined them. You could’ve never imagined one day your fingers would run through them. His mouth finds yours again, your senses filled with the scent of him and you can’t help yourself and rest your hand on his cheek, wanting to feel him more. Time is not something tangible anymore. You don’t know how long elapses. It may be minutes, it may be hours. You just can’t seem to get enough of each other to finally break apart. Nothing has ever made you feel so good in a long time. That’s why you don’t question your tongue tangling with his, his hand searching for skin as it ventures beneath your jacket and settles on your waist, warm and big.

The loud thud of thunder outside makes you jump slightly on the seat, and with the realization that you must get inside, you slowly but finally break apart from him.

“I have to go.” you manage to say as his lips kiss your cheek and the corner of your eye instead.

His breath fans against your skin, a gentle caress that makes you shiver. Billy's eyes, still glazed with desire, slowly refocus as he registers your words. There's a flicker of disappointment, but he nods in understanding.

“Yeah. Yeah, you better get inside,” he replies in a husky voice, his eyes roaming over your face.

His lips are red and swollen with your kisses, you can’t help but steal another kiss which her eagerly accepts, planting a couple more against your mouth. They’re not as deep but full of meaning, resonating in the air.

“Call me tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, I will,” you mumble, your cheek feeling red as you internally wish you could stay with the boy forever.

As you leave the car, the cold rain immediately envelopes you, sending shivers down your spine. The rain soaked through your clothes as you navigated through the darkness. As you reach the door, you steal one last look at Billy's car, watching as he drives away into the night, the memory of his touch still lingering on your lips.

#dacre montgomery #stranger things smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #dacryphilia #eddie munson #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!oc #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader smut #billy hargrove smut #steve stranger things

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toobusybeingdelulu · 9 months ago

Text

look who is speaking…

#also the fact that in the scene with Robin Steve is wearing Billy’s jacket??#hell nah you can’t make this shit up #the fact that these two have literally two minutes of screentime together AND YET manage to have so many unintentional parallels #it drives me insane #and let’s not talk about Steve’s dream life #he literally wanted to go to California and learn how to surf #they were originally written as the same character #then they were supposed to have a storyline together #Steve and Billy are literally the definition of star-crossed lovers #‘but it’s about doomed love’ ‘that’s relatable’’precisely’#max mayfield #stranger things 3 #billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #harringrove #Dacre Montgomery #Steve x billy #Joe keery

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glimmerlofsea · 6 months ago

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Hey it's me again. I was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove imagin. The reader and Billy "hate" each other and end up having to share a bed. The rest is up to you.

Thank youuuu 🖤

HIII!!! your request is very interesting!! And I will put the song 'Shameless' as the vibe of this fanfic, thank you for requesting it and I hope this meets your expectations and you like it! And I apologize for the delay. 💚😕

Billy Hargrove x Reader

MASTERLIST

SPARK OF HATE

Warning : Just a few harsh words maybe? fluffy, and there's some making out session... BUT NOT TOOO MUCH ;D

WC; 3,4k

#TALKISSA; As in the request above! :d and relatedly, since I'm a perfectionist and detailed writer (which kinda sad) so the story is too long, sorry if it's boring :(, I really hope it's not. Thank you for requesting!

Such a relationship is very complicated to explain. He hates you, you hate him more. Well, he hates you for no apparent reason, but the reason you hate him? Just look at that sly, arrogant, disgusting smile every day in the school hallway, it makes you want to vomit every time.

Jessica, your friend always assures you that the spark of hatred is just wishful thinking to hide your feelings of mutual liking. You couldn't hold back your laughter when you heard that, you, like Billy? Pft, you'd rather die.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! You think we didn't see the tension that was there when you look at each other?" Jess complained while you were putting your textbook into your bag.

You ignored her, "Someone should give him some advice."

Jess chuckled, "You think he'll care about that little advice of yours?"

You slammed your locker, and turned your position 90 degrees towards Jess, "Are you on his side or me?"

Jess groaned, "God, not this again. Every time I hear this it's like choosing a side in war you know?"

You grinned and brought your face closer to Jess', "This is war, Jess. Get used to it."

"You're just annoyed because he took your Physics Queen's throne, right?"

You started walking down the hall followed by Jess, "That's the most important thing. He can't just come in and take my throne!"

"Oh, please, you're not the only one who is good at Physics." Jess' cigar, you look at her, she immediately closes her mouth tightly, afraid you will scold her, but no, you nod in agreement.

"Yeah. You're right, but that doesn't mean I can let a Billy fucking Hargrove take my title!" You whined as you tied your hair in a ponytail.

"I heard you mentioning my name, Princess."

You groaned, knowing who the voice was, when you wanted to turn around you felt your scrunchie slipping from your hair, making your hair flow freely and fly in the wind. Billy Hargrove took it,

"Give it back." You warn.

"Or what?" He replied with a grin.

Oh, this is what was meant when Jess said there was 'tension' between you two.

You still stared at him intently, he chuckled, "God, just admit you're attracted to me, Y/L/N, there's nothing to be ashamed about."

You took your scrunchie and started to put your hair back in a ponytail, “Go back to sleep and you'll see it happen, Hargrove.”

When you turned around, Jess was gone, sneaky girl, she left you because you saw her following Trevor, her crush from middle school. You laugh in disbelief,

"That girl," you whispered, annoyed.

For the past few days, your car has been confiscated by your parents. You caused trouble in Hawkins by accidentally crashing your car into one of the trees that was being felled. It costs a lot of money and you are not left to drive.

"Lost your ride?" Teasing Billy from behind,

You gave him your middle finger without looking at him and walked away. Today you had to walk a few more deserted blocks because you lost your ride.

It was sad how your relationship with Billy ended like that, because you had to see him every week because Max—his little sister hired you as her Physics tutor. It makes you happy to be able to show off your abilities in that subject when teaching Max at her house, which means Billy can clearly see this, even though he himself is very good at Physics, but Max doesn't believe him? What else could upset him?

The day you are going to tutor Max arrives, you immediately leave, 'walking' to get to her house, you knock on the door, expecting Max to immediately open the door but she doesn't. That's her shitty brother.

He flashed his usual grin, making you wrinkle your nose and groan, "Max's here?"

"Why are you looking after her anyway?"

"I'm her tutor, remember?" You flip your hair, "Since I'm the smartest in Physics. She trusts me enough for that."

Sometimes Billy feels that Max only hired you as her fake tutor to make him feel useless as a brother, but he doesn't care, she's quite a bother for Billy, and he's a little grateful that Max hired you as her tutor, apart from being able to see you often but Billy calmed down because that little piece of shit wouldn't bother him.

Billy chuckled at your words, he turned his head back a little but still locked his gaze on you, looking at you from top to bottom who was wearing a small skirt that reached your thighs and the rest was covered by knee length socks.

"Max, your little friend is here!" he shouted.

Hearing no answer made Billy look back completely, annoyed that he had to take his eyes off you, he left you to check on Max.

Soon after that the door opened completely, "Max isn't here." He said, he sounded panicked but tried not to show it to you.

You frowned, "What?" Max never goes to the Arcade without taking you, she usually takes you if she wanted you to show her around Hawkins, but not this time.

"You can go." Billy said as if he was being pushed by something.

You sighed, you knew Max wasn't your little sister and just your friend, but at least you showed concern, right? Nah, you are really worried. In addition, Billy's expression was frowning all the way down, unlike usual when he showed all his firm facial muscles.

"Do you want me... To, um— To help you look after her?" Your words are stuttering.

"That little shit is probably in the Arcade, I don't care."

Billy was about to close the door but you held him back and shook your head, “she's not, you know that, Billy. Don't hide your fears, I insist, I know where we'll go to find her.”

Billy had time to think about it.

You raised your eyebrows to reassure him, he rolled his eyes and opened the door wide, "Okay."

You guys use his blue Camaro car, you roll into the Arcade first, then drive to Lucas' house, one of the kids Max's age who has been friends with her recently, Max talks about him a lot, so you think maybe she's at Sinclair's house. But the results were nil.

The longer you look, the air gets colder in Hawkins. Billy gives you his jacket, even though you were already wearing a furry sweater with colorful patterns, but he still forces you to wear his jacket, you don't have a problem with that. It's just... Why suddenly?

"Fuck that bitch, I have a date, dammit." Billy said cursing Max but in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Date? For some reason your ears heat up and your whole face heats up.

You cleared your throat and adjusted your sitting position to be comfortable, "Date?" You asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, with Penny, that girl has a nice ass. I could take her virginity right now if I didn't have to look for that load." Billy explain in the midst of his laughter.

You looked up at him and wrinkled your nose in an ugly way, “Gross, Hargrove.”

Billy chuckled and glanced at you briefly, "What? Wish that was you?"

You looked at him, your mouth wanted to say yes, yes to asking you out, but if you say that, you would be a cheap girl like the girl Billy had slept with several times in Hawkins. You don't want to be one of them.

"I'd rather eat Mrs. Hills' dessert." You said which made Billy chuckle, "That's the worst."

You smiled, "I know right? Jess once told me, she accidentally filled Mrs. Hills' dessert, she almost threw it up right then and there if Mrs. Hills didn't look at her. AH! And have you ever seen Mr. Pill who wears pants incorrectly? His panties keep showing when he walks down the hall!"

Girl, you talk a lot.

"And are you—"

Then you realize you are like a talking machine that can never stop talking. What's more, you talk a lot in front of people you should ignore because they are your enemies.

"-Sorry." You said looking back towards the street,

Billy smiled, you could even feel it without looking at him, there was no answer from him but you felt a hand land on your thigh, giving you goosebumps all over your body, he stroked it slowly,

"It's okay, go on. I love hearing your voice, Princess." His words made you look at him again, he locked them, looking alternately at you and the road, "If I'm being honest, it calmed me, even if it was a little loud to the ears."

You chuckled, “Now, keep your eyes on the road.”

"Yes ma'am."

Long story short, you go to the Wheeler house, Billy uses his charm to seduce the housewife, and he doesn't let you get out of the car to see the action. It irritates you, he thinks you're jealous, but you try to argued it, and it only ends up being him who keeps teasing you, making you just stay silent on the way to the Byers house. He continues to stroke your thigh, if your voice makes him calm, then his caressing your thigh makes you calm.

Oh, what is this? What is this feeling? You will continue to avoid it even though your heart cannot lie. Jess seemed right, the feeling was starting to rise in you. But it's just nonsense if it's only felt by you.

As soon as you arrived at the Byers house you watched a small fight between Steve Harrington and Billy, in between their fight you noticed Max peeking out of the window, she gave a signal for you to close your mouth. But it was too late, you already saw Steve lying there on the ground, and Billy have gone to the front door, you help Steve to stand up,

"You're Y/N, right? Why are you with that jerk?" Steve asked as he stood up, helped by you.

You shrugged your shoulders, "I don't know."

You heard a loud stomping from inside, making you run to the source of the sound leaving Steve there, you heard lots of screams from the kids there, including Max.

You walked over to Max, "Are you okay?"

Max nodded quickly, "Lucas, Y/N!"

You saw Billy grabbing Lucas roughly by the collar and cornering him into the kitchen cupboard, Steve was about to step forward but you held him back, "No harm."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, but did you see he hurt the kid?"

Steve was about to pick up his pace again but you got ahead of him, grabbing Billy's shoulder, "Max's here, let's go."

"Let him go." You said, moving forward to stand next to Lucas,

Billy glanced at you briefly before looking at Lucas again, "This is the last time I see you with her, Sinclair."

Billy let go of Lucas roughly, you made sure Lucas was okay, "Are you okay?"

Lucas nodded.

You thought it was over, no more violence, but it wasn't, it was over quickly, Billy beating Steve mercilessly, Max screaming his name over and over, as did you too, "Hargrove!"

He didn't stop hitting Steve, making the jolt of his hand push you back and make your forehead scrape against the edge of the cupboard.

Max tackled his brother and inserted a syringe which made Billy fall on the floor.

You held your forehead and groaned, then saw Billy who didn't have enough strength or energy to stand up.

Max walked over to you, "I can't explain in more detail, but I have to go with them. In Billy's car. Mind if you look after him, Y/N?"

You looked at Billy then looked at Max again, you shook your head, "Not at all."

"Thank you."

With that, Max and his friends went to who knows where they were going, you helped them carry the battered Steve to the car, you felt guilty for the guy.

You went back inside and brought Billy's heavy body to rest on the edge of the couch, you used Byers' house phone to call Jess. Tell her to pick you up at the Byers residence.

You landed yourself next to Billy, saw that his head was still swinging, you saw that his shirt was still half-buttoned, you decided to button the shirt all the way, and put his jacket back on him. You took a clean towel from the one you took to clean the blood from his nose.

You felt a hand holding your hand, making you stop what you were doing before, with dim eyes, Billy opened his eyes.

Feeling the awkwardness of the eye contact you smiled slightly, "Um, hi?"

You didn't imagine his next move would be him leaning forward to kiss you, right on the lips. Oh, how you hated him, you should have pushed him away and slapped him for harassing you, but no, you kissed him back.

'The Kiss' started to heat up when Billy started to pull you to sit on his lap, but you didn't want this, you didn't want to. You just... Don't want to. You pulled back your face, while he seemed to feel unsatisfied,

"What—"

Billy stopped you by moving to your jawline, tracing it, “Don't talk. Hell, don't even try.”

He started tracing your neck, oh, this time your whole body was really hot, "It's been a secret for a long time that I really want you."

"Need you more than I want to." It's almost like a whisper in your ear.

The door opened with a bang, making you change your position to sit back on the floor, Billy chuckled,

“Shut up,” you told him.

Jess stood silently in front of the door, you really hoped she didn't see it.

"Hi." You said.

Jess immediately rushed over to you, "What the hell?! I thought you were in danger!" Seeing her reaction it seemed like you were quick enough to get away from Billy's lap.

You smiled and stood up, "Who said that? I told you I just needed to be picked up, and thank you for coming. I love you."

Jess rolled her eyes and looked down, seeing Billy who was still half conscious, "and what did you do with him?"

You widened your eyes, "It's a long story. Just take us back, please?"

Jess looked at you again, repeating it not at your face but your forehead, she grabbed your wound making you groan, "Did you do this, asshole?!" Jess asked Billy.

Billy blurted out, "Huh?"

You put a hand on Jess's shoulder, "No, I'm fine, just a little scratched."

You showed your sparkling sparkling eyes, "Can we just go?"

Jess narrowed her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, but Trevor is in the car, problem with that?"

"No! Absolutely not."

You grabbed Billy's hand to put around your neck, he was so heavy you couldn't lie, making Jess stand beside him to help you support him.

"I love it, like a double date, right?" Billy asked you, still rambling.

"Shut up."

"What did he say?" Jess asked, you kept your head steady, "Nothing! You heard wrong, Jess."

Jess kept looking at you, suspicious of you, but she felt like you would never be able to hide anything from her, so she looked away again.

Trevor and Jess were in the front seat, you felt bad for ruining their date, meanwhile Billy continued to cling onto you, not wanting to pull his head from your shoulder.

"I don't want to go home." He whispered which only you could hear since the music was playing in Jess's car.

"I'll be completely beaten by him if I come home without Maxine."

You know this. Max once told you that her stepfather was abusive to Billy, and Billy took it out on Max when he was in a bad mood, either scolding her loudly, or holding her hand tightly.

"We can sleep over at Jess' house if you want." You said.

Billy started to pull his head from your shoulder and looked at you, “Can we?”

You grinned, "Jess, can we stay at your house?"

Jess looked at you, "What is this? An impromptu sleepover?" Jess smiled, "YES, yes. You up, Hargrove?"

Billy just smiled fakely at Jess, Jess chuckled, "I told you there was some tension between—"

You glared at Jess, “Zip it.”

Not long after that, when you arrived at Jess' house, she and Trevor went on their next dating session. What kind of 'sleepover' would it be if she just left you like that?

You were wearing Jess' pajamas, looking at Billy who was asleep on Mr. Dunphy a.k.a Jess' beloved father, you decided to sleep in your best friend's room. That's a shame, because you'd love to talk about something unexpected at the Byers house.

If he could tell the truth, it was the most restful sleep Billy had ever experienced without the sound of his father cursing, without the repeated incidents of his father beating him, just the peace he had been longing for. But it didn't last long when he heard a loud bang on the wall from the direction of the room.

He woke up and groaned, took the golf club that was at the end of the wall in Jess' house and walked towards the room that had the source of the sound, not an animal, not the wind, and of surely not a ghost, but you.

You continued to bang your head gently against the wall, trying to walk, while rambling, "...I told you, there's no tension or whatever you said."

It looks like you are trying to talk to someone through your unconscious.

Billy put his golf club down and blocked the contact of your forehead with the wall, “You okay?” he asked. But he noticed your eyes were closed tightly, he had heard of this, sleepwalking or whatever the term was.

"Let's get you back to sleep, yeah?" Billy said then grabbed your hand to lead you back to the bed.

You were still rambling, "...I don't like him! What?" You whined, making Billy really confused, was this normal?

"I like him... A little. I hate to admit it."

Your words began to attract his attention, he landed you very carefully on the mattress and the blanket you used before to lock you inside again,

When Billy wanted to leave you, you woke up and pulled his hand so he fell beside you, you comforted your position on his chest, "I can't sleep without you,"

Billy didn't say anything, or precisely can't say anything.

"Jess." You continued, Billy thought you must still be half conscious because you thought he was your best friend.

It wasn't the way Billy expected to share a bed with you, but when you started wrapping your arms around his body he felt a feeling he had never felt. Comfort, and someone to say that everything will be okay. His mother had done that, but her words did not reflect what she did to Billy because she left him and did not try to take him back from his psychopath father. And in your arms? Different.

Billy was lost in his thoughts for a moment, but he started to close his eyes again and again and went back to sleep with you, holding you in his arms so that you also felt safe and definitely not sleepwalking again so as not to hurt yourself. He noticed the small wound on your forehead due to his carelessness, and he would make sure his emotions wouldn't hurt you again.

"I'll get my title back from him." You rambled again, Billy, who hadn't completely closed his eyes, just chuckled, knowing that you were talking about him.

Jess and Trevor have just returned from their long 'trip' which apparently took the whole day, Jess comes back and called your name, but there is no answer, making her walk towards your room and get—

"WHAT THE FUCK!" She shouted hysterically, Trevor, who heard his new girlfriend's screams, immediately ran into the room, "What's wrong?!"

It turns out that what Jess saw was you sleeping comfy in the crook of Billy's neck and Billy pressing his chin into your hair.

Billy groaned at Jess' loud scream, but you didn't move an inch, still lost in your beautiful dream. Billy noticed Jess and Trevor were both slamming their jaw together, he squeaked, "We didn't do anything, now shut it, she's still asleep."

Jess leaned closer to the bed, "Why not?! I noticed something sparking between you and definitely more than 'hating' each other." Jess shouted but in a whisper.

You snored, making Jess hide under the bed and pulling Trevor to hide with her, but you didn't wake up, just adjusted your position so you were comfortable.

Billy tap down on the side of the bed and slowly signaled to Jess and Trevor that it was safe, Jess and Trevor started to come back out and stand up as before.

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" Billy asked Jess.

"Ask her out, dumbass. Don't argue, you like her, she likes you. Now go on a date so we can actually double-date." Jess said.

Trevor tossed the blanket that hiding Billy and yourself inside, “Good luck, man.”

As soon as Jess and Trevor were out, Billy smiled to himself like an idiot, you like him? Something he really couldn't have expected.

Not to mention that you are still clinging to him and don't want to let him go in your sleep, making him feel like he is your safest place, and he will continue to make sure that you are safe in his watch. Mark my words, he will definitely take you on a date. But what will your reaction be when you find out that you cling into him all the time? And share a bed with him? He couldn't wait to see and witness it.

Author Note : I'm sorry if there are some typos because I didn't have time to check it a few times since I was already feeling bad about being behind on this story for a week. I'm sorry, hope you like it! @patrickbatemanswife1987 (´✪ω✪`)♡

#spotify #fanfic #fanfiction #dacre montgomery #fluff #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy x reader #x reader #dacre montgomery x yn #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #max mayfield #steve harrington #lucas sinclair

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