#farmer billy hargrove

[dopeasspancake]

The audacity of calling this a crack fic when it’s the most beautiful, adorable, heartwarming thing I’ve ever read. This isn’t a crack fic. This is the future they deserved 🥹

Here’s your crack fic for the day ~

• • • • •

Steve buys a cow. He supposes the correct terminology is “rescuing” because he has no intentions to slaughter it.

He names the cow Billy.

Keep reading

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey everyone! Let’s celebrate summer with some summer-themed requests!

You don’t have to be following me to participate and can submit as many requests as you like!

Here’s how it works: send me three emojis, one for who you’d like to see, one for your pairing, and one for the summer themed situation you’d want them in and a little description of what you’d like to see and I’ll do my best to write it!

And remember, if you’re asking for NSFW work: please be sure to not be anon and have your age in your bio, please!

Characters

🦇- Eddie Munson

🏀- Steve Harrington

🚘- Billy Hargrove

🕷️- tasm!peter

🚑- Evan “Buck” Buckley

🚨- Eddie Diaz

Pairings:

❤️- established relationship

💞- friends-to-lovers

❤️‍🩹- enemies-to-lovers

💕- friends

Places:

🩴- the beach/pool

🎡- the fair

🏕️- camp/camping

🎤- concert/festival

🧺- picnic

⭐️- stargazing

🍿- movie night

☔️- moment in the rain

🍉- farmer’s market

✈️- travel

[munsonsduchess]

The Healed Man

summary: it’s been two weeks since steve and dustin brought eddie to your door and two weeks since eddie has been awake

w/c: 1,486

warnings: mentions of injury, mentions of blood, unwanted physical attention (billy hargrove and tommy hagan keep insinuating that you should all be friends), swearing

a/n: welcome to part three of shadow of the moon, you can find part two here, i’m honestly really excited about this series and i can’t wait to share more of it with you all, if you see a typo then say nothing and have a drink of water to forget

dividers are by @firefly-graphics and the moodboard was made by me 💛

It had been a tense couple of weeks since Prince Steven and Dustin had arrived on your doorstep with a bloodied and mauled Edward Munson in need of your aid. You’d managed to bring the young man back to some semblance of stability and had moved him to your own bed to recover instead of laying on your kitchen table.

In the meantime you’d gone back to business as usual, creating your little spells and charms for the townsfolk, love spells for girls who were enamored with the Prince, a boy in the next town over, farmers wishing for a good harvest. It would disturb people to have a bandaged, sometimes still bleeding, boy on your work table.

You changed Edward’s bandages when you had the time. Reapplied the salves. Did whatever you could to keep his body healing.

During this time you’d also met Dustin’s mother, Will’s Mother, Jane’s father, Mike’s older sister Nancy and Lucas’ younger sister Erica. The latter two being a force of nature all on their own.

You’d also met the Prince’s friend Robin who seemed to be keeping a secret of her own if you had to guess.

All of these new people expressed their concern at you living so far away from town and alone. The parents in particular expressed this concern but you’d waved it off,

“I’m not welcome in town” you’d said, “I’m not usually welcome in any towns. People find out who I am and what I am and they tend to not want me around”

“Load of horseshit if you ask me” Jane’s father Jim commented, “lots of stuff going on in that town is horseshit”

You’d learnt later from Will’s mother Joyce that Jim had lost a lot. He’d fought for the King in one of his wars, while he’d been away his daughter had fallen sick and nothing could be done. Jim’s wife was overcome with sadness and had walked to the river, never to come back. He’d found Jane wandering around the woods by herself, she couldn’t speak and wouldn’t eat much except bread but he’d taken her in immediately and cared for the child which everyone thought was ridiculous but Jim had brought Jane up regardless of what other people thought.

Joyce and Dustin’s mother Claudia had promised to come up regularly and check on you and Eddie for whatever you might need.

Among your list of visitors was the Prince himself who came by regularly every night to check on Eddie. He would ask you questions, how was he healing? How long until he woke? Had he said anything even in his sleep?

You didn’t have the answers for his questions and it pained you to see his crestfallen expression each evening. Still the Prince returned, night after night with the same questions.

When you’d see Nancy and Robin during the day they’d tell you that Steve was looking worse and worse every day. He wasn’t sleeping, hardly eating, he was on a mission apparently to find out what exactly had happened to Eddie. How it had happened.

Apparently Eddie did a lot of odd jobs to earn money since he too seemed to be unwelcome by the general townsfolk of Hawkins in the same way you were. People called him a freak and he had been accused of consorting with the devil more than once by certain members of the nobility.

Eddie’s uncle Wayne was a good man and Eddie did all he could to help the older man and he had been returning from a job that evening when he’d been attacked though by what or by whom seemed to be the root cause of the mystery. One that Steve was determined to figure out himself no matter how much his friends offered to help.

Just past the two week mark since Eddie had come into your care you’d needed to leave him in the care of Claudia Henderson and Joyce Byers while you’d gone to the local spring nearby to fill some bottles. You’d hadn’t expected to be gone all that long but the universe seemed to have other ideas.

No sooner had you arrived at the spring than you heard the sound of hoofbeats and men laughing. You’d looked up to see Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan and Jason Carver riding your way. Having absolutely no desire to interact with any of those men you’d tried to gather your bottles and leave as quickly as you could but Hargrove stopped you,

“Leaving so soon? Here I thought you were a friendly witch” he laughed, jumping down from his horse, “we just want to be friends right fellas?”

“Yeah. Best friends” Tommy agreed as he dismounted his own horse, “just like you’re such good friends with Stevie”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean” you tried to play dumb hoping they’d find less amusement in your torment.

“I think you know exactly what we’re talking about” Carver’s lips were twisted in a cruel sneer. Of the three men he seemed to be taking the least pleasure in accosting you,

“So. How about it honey?” Hargrove had come up behind you and placed his hands on your hip, “let’s be friends”

“The best of friends” Hagan agreed again

You were looking around for a clear line of escape, of a way out of this situation before it went even more terribly, then you heard someone yell in the distance

“Get your hands off her!”

As you caught a glimpse of the Prince in the distance suddenly Hargrove and Hagan immediately backed off but not far enough for your liking,

“Awe come on Stevie. We’re just being friendly” Hagan grinned at him, “you guys are such good friends we figured we’d say hi”

“Maybe your little witch could help us with some problems” Hargrove laughed stepping closer to you again,

“I said get your hands off her” Steve commanded again, “leave her alone”

“You keep strange company Harrington” Carver snapped, “what would your father think if he knew you were visiting a witch each day”

“What would yours think Carver, if he knew you were so disrespectful to your prince?”

No one said anything for a while until eventually Hargrove just sighed and remounted his horse,

“Well that’s ruined my fun. Come on, I’m sure there’s girls who’ll actually be worth fucking in town”

Hagan snorted and remounted his horse, following after Hargrove without sparing a glance backwards at where you were standing. Carver however remained a free extra moments before following his friends.

You let out a sigh of relief and sagged onto the ground. This is why you avoided people, men in particular. Especially men like Hagan and Hargrove. Though it would seem as if Carver had no intention of following through with his friends plans but instead was working off his own agenda.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re assholes” Steve said, he had dismounted now and was walking over to you,

“How did you know I’d be here?” you asked him, no one but Claudia and Joyce knew where you were going,

“I had stopped by the cottage but you weren’t there and Joyce told me you were down here”

“You came to check on your friend” you nodded, “he still hasn’t woken up”

“I came to check on you. I know it can’t be easy looking after Eddie on your own and Claudia said you were sleeping on the floor?”

“I only have one bed your highness. I thought it best for your friend to rest in it rather than on the floor. I do not mind”

“I’ll have another mattress sent. You shouldn’t sleep on the floor”

You had opened your mouth to protest but the Prince had already moved and was gathering up your bottles,

“I’ll help you carry these back” the way he spoke brokered no argument so you simply let him and followed back to your cottage.

As you walked the Prince asked about your life, about your craft, what brought you to Hawkins. He seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you, which was a marketable change from what you were used to, especially from royalty.

As the cottage came into view you expected the Prince to walk off and leave you to your work but he followed you inside and placed your bottles on the work table,

He bid goodbye to Joyce and Claudia as they headed back into town but still he remained.

“Your highness really you - ” you were about to say that Steve could go on his way, that you would be fine but then you heard something else,

“Steve?” Your head snapped around to where a bandaged but awake Eddie Munson was standing in the doorway to your bedroom looking directly at you, “who the hell are you?”

Taglist: @babyrunsforfanfic @novelnovella @pillow-titties @yappydoo @filthy-gorgeous-library @likedovesinthewnd @insertcoolnameherethanks

Let me know if you want to be added!

[discodeviant]

MUNGROVE WEEK DAY 4: On The Road Old Western AU | Teen | 5.8k | Past Harringrove, Past Munver In collaboration with @thediktatortot based on their artwork, Love on the Midnight Ranges.

Cowboy Billy has been plaguing my mind for so long, this was a JOY to write. Lou's art had my brain bouncing all over the damn place, I had to write for it lol. Happy Mungrove Week!!! 😚🥰💖💖

Read on AO3 Preview below!

Eddie didn’t know how long he’d been running or how many nights he’d slept amidst the foggy Indiana backwoods. It was humid out there; he’d always known and hated the summers for that very reason, but he never did learn his lesson. So he trudged along the wide dirt path just off the railroad that stretched all the way to the border between California and Mexico. Maybe he’d make it there before long, let a couple coffee farmers take him in. Smithing wouldn’t be the same without Uncle Wayne—not that Eddie could keep the house up anyway. Not much longer. Not if he was in prison.

Just how far out of Hawkins he’d gone, he also didn’t know, but there wasn’t a sign of life to be seen unless he counted the buzzards and flies, the cicadas singing right under his feet. Damn, did he wish he had any tobacco left to stave off the hunger for a while longer. But it was just him and his hat and and the bindle slung over his shoulder until the day he found someplace to put it down where he wouldn’t have to pick it back up again. Of which, even if he played his cards right and prayed to the most gracious heavens above, he had little hope.

Billy Hargrove was a working man. Always had been, always would be, or that was what he told himself as he tended the farm singlehandedly. He was a lonesome fellow, though he liked it that way. Nice and quiet on his land and through the house until Stevie started barking up a storm in the mornings to tell him to wake up. He was an old white-and-brown sheepdog, damn near fifteen years old and still running around like a pup with too much energy. He kept the cattle in line and in order. All eight cows and three calves let Steve usher them into the barn at sundown so Billy could go through his evening routine that ended in dinner and counting what blessings he had left. A roof over his head, a close companion, food on the table, and safety. That was all he needed.

In the morning, while Billy was tending to his horse, Shelby, a sandy Appaloosa with white spots all along her back, Steve’s bark had his heart racing faster than she ran—and Shelby-girl ran fast. It was loud and frantic, higher in tone to alert him of danger on the premises. Acres and acres of empty land didn’t need much more security than the house, and his Winchester shotgun was plenty for one man and his dog. He went inside for it before Steve even made it back home. “What’s the matter, boy, huh?” Billy ran a hand down his back and held the scruff of his neck tight to let him know that he had it from there. “Is it those fuckin’ possums again? Swear to God—“ he said, but Steve started running off in the opposite direction from the possum hole.

“Toolshed?”

Woof!

Continue Reading on AO3 @mungroveweek

[serenity-lattes]

Where Stranger Things characters would actually live in Indiana.

If you’re actually from Indiana, this will make sense to you. I live within 40 minutes of where Hawkins supposedly is and these are my hot takes. 

Hopper: It was mentioned that he was originally from “the big city” and honestly, I think it would be Fort Wayne. Lots of factories there and he just fits, I have no specific reasons. He would definitely avoid the north end, it would be too “metro” for him. 

Murray: South Bend. There is a specific demographic there and that’s where the conspiracy theories would reside. 

The Byers: South side Muncie. Will would be enamored with the children’s museum and there are loads of pretty sceneries for Jon to snap pictures of. Joyce would have her selection of small mom-n-pop shops to work at. 

The Wheelers: Bloomington. Higher class, college town. Nancy and Mike would have all the opportunities they could dream of in this hellscape of a state. 

Steve: Carmel. It’s ritzy and pretty centralized in the state. And holy shit it’s SO NICE but it’s round-about hell. There are no stoplights or stop signs, just round-abouts. I avoid it at all costs, but the Clay Terrace is fun to walk around and shop at. 

Robin: Northern Greenfield. It’s a suburb of Indy, but there’s a little part of the town that’s lower-middle class. Even though the houses are only 45k, they’re pretty decent.

El: Logansport. If you expect something “off” to go on in Indiana, it’ll be in freaking Logansport. When you’re not smelling the awful odors from Tyson’s factory, you get the interesting stories from the state hospital. I think she would be in the more rural part of town, but there are specific spots in the downtown I could picture her in. 

Dustin: Wabash. I know many people from this town and honestly, all the kids have talent. It’s smaller, but it has a Wal-Mart, and there is a great farmer’s market and music/theatre scene. 

The Munsons: Converse. It’s a really small town, but there are really neat places to visit (see Jefferson Street BBQ). But given the reasons above for Dustin, they could easily live there too. 

The Sinclairs: Southern Kokomo. Not the biggest town, not the smallest. It’s quite diverse. And the houses on this side of town are pretty nice! There are pretty ponds and an amazing Japanese steakhouse. HOWEVER!!! Please avoid the north-east end because it’s fucking scary. Every time I’m on that end of town, it’s guaranteed to result in hearing at least one set of “pop-pop-pops”. Give me a Demogorgon any day. 

The Hargrove-Mayfields: This would have been Neil’s plan to move. And what we know about Neil, he’s not a nice or accepting person in any capacity. Elwood, for sure. I’ve had dear friends run out of these because a specific “clan” of people reside there. However, once Billy and Max are old enough to leave, they head for Lafayette. It’s not California, but it’s a nice enough, big enough place to be. 

Bob Newby: He’s so quaint and pleasant, he would be from Jasper. There’s a nice train ride you can do on the weekends during the fall and I can picture him being one of the tour guides on it. 

[jbucb]

Fanfic request rules

Ask about a Fandom!

Characters I am partial to!

Joel, Sarah, Maria and Tommy Miller ,Ellie Williams, Abby Anderson!

(Includes:Jesse, Dina, Maria, Owen, Mel, Manny and more)

(Very happy to write non reader for this ,just characters as well)

Lee Bodecker, James(Bucky) Barnes, Mickey Henry, Frank, Carter Baizen, Nick Fowler, Jefferson Hatter.. scratch that... ANY SEBASTIAN STAN CHARACTER

Billy hargrove... that's it just him

Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,Bruce banner

Capt. Syverson, Geralt of rivia (in game as well) ,Sherlock Holmes, August walker.

Dean and Sam Winchester, Castiel,

I write for charactersXreader I'm not opposed to doing WLW&MLM, but I am most comfortable with MLW

Tropes I love

DBF BFD, Age-Gap, Professer, Dilf

Secret relationship, Fake Dating, Enemies to lovers

BBF, Single parent, friends to lovers,

roommates to lovers.

I do enjoy AUs Very much !! Especially

Modern, pre-war-post-war, Mafia, actor, doctor,

College, Socialite, Vetran, Lawyer ,Cop, and Rockstar, Farmer, Equestrian.

I will not write for!

DDLG, STEP-relationships, Explicit

INCEST, FORCED PREGNANCY, CNS

(not excluding but will not write in heavy detail)

SA OR COCSA

I will write smut but not often as I do not prefer to write it .

[imagine-you]

ten lines tag game

tagged by the lovely and amazing @residentdormouse

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three or more) then share it. Tag others if you want.

I used a random number generator to help me pick the fics, so here goes:

there's a bad moon on the rise (ben hanscom/reader)

"God, I still can't believe you have that piece of shit," Richie mused as he reached out to take it from you. "It held up really well. I guess the fifteen cents was worth it."

stay (shane walsh/reader)

Shane offered you a rueful grin, his hands up to show he wasn't a threat. "Well, I'm not a tracker like Dixon, but I did alright, didn't I?"

You frowned at him, your hand slowly lowering so you weren't quite pointing your knife in his direction. "Why were you tracking me in the first place?"

lost in the shadows (david (the lost boys)/reader)

"You've got a death wish? Fine. But you're going to learn how to defend yourself before you go looking for the vampire who killed your folks. Don't want you falling on your own stake your first time out."

in the midnight hour (billy hargrove/reader)

"It's going to sound crazy," Steve started, ushering you into an armchair. "But what we're about to tell you is one hundred percent real, and I know it's not going to make a lot of sense, but Y/N..." he trailed off, looking helplessly to the others.

"Your life is in danger," Nancy finished for your brother.

you still catch my eye (steve harrington/reader)

You didn't remember much of the drive to the hospital or watching them rush Eddie away, all you could think was that he better be alive so you could kill him yourself for being such an idiotic martyr.

It wasn't until Steve was there that you snapped out of your worry. There was something about Steve that put you at ease, loosening the knot of anxiety you carried with you in your chest. He calmed you in a way no one else seemed to and you desperately wished he would stay with you just so you could feel like a person again.

make all your demons be gone (sirius black/reader)

One morning at breakfast, Sirius kicked your chair out before you could sit down, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth when you fell to the floor. In retaliation, you attempted to dye his hair green, joyous when it worked a little too well, and Sirius had to suffer with neon green hair for a couple of hours. You took the opportunity to poke fun at him, telling him maybe there was a little Slytherin in him after all.

meet me under the stars (daryl dixon/reader)

“Don’t do that,” you warned Hershel. “We stick together, okay? No going off by yourself alone when we have no fucking clue what we’re facing in here.”

“Dad?” You heard Maggie call, and turned to look at her and Glenn as they came around a corner, both of them with their weapons ready to take out any walkers.

You felt yourself relax for a second before you heard the sound of Hershel’s scream.

i'm only happy when it rains (diego hargreeves/reader)

"You're better off asking Dr. Phil," Klaus started as he moved to clumsily refill his flask with a bottle of champagne on the table. "Because no one in this room knows shit about relationships," he finished as he whirled around to point at Vanya. "This one? In some kind of secret love tango with some farmer's wife."

make my wish come true (kate bishop/reader)

Clint gave you an assessing look before he shook your hand. "You too," he said. "As much as this one rambles on, I feel like I already know everything about you."

"Shut up," Kate hissed, shaking her head at Clint. "He's old," she tried to dismiss, looking at you. "He gets confused easily."

somebody to love (diego hargreeves/reader)

"Here," Diego said before he handed you the glass of water. "Finish that."

You would have rolled your eyes, but you were sure it would have been a very bad idea. Your headache was steadily getting worse now that you were awake and not high anymore, so you didn't want to do anything to irritate it even more. "You're so demanding."

"Only when it matters," Diego said, staring at you as if making sure you were going to follow his order.

tagging: @fanficimagery @angst-fairygodmother @berkmansimagines @seanfalco @seancekitsch @salvador-daley and anyone else who wants to play!

[lorifragolina]

Anne with an E but make it Eddie with an E.

Eddie is a little trickster that comes with the train in the sleepy village. He wants to scam villagers but falls in love with their quiet life and eventually decides to stay.

There is his landlady Joyce Byers, the pastor Hopper in love with her, the pharmacist/barber Jason Carver, the farmer Steve harrington, the horseshoer Billy Hargrove, the teacher Crissy Cunningham. The siblings Will and Jane, who dream about frontier stories that Eddie makes up for them, Max the tomboy, Mike, Lucas and Dustin.

And uncle Wayne to whom Eddie wrote vivid letters about the village.

Probably not romantic. Just platonic kindred spirits

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Camboy/Farmer Steve

Okay so I misread the first two words of a post and it said cowboy/farmer. But I read Camboy/Farmer. So Steve whose gimmick is dressing up like cute/sexy barnyard animals and getting off with the fruits and vegetables he grows.

Billy who just moved to town to help Max with the farm after her husband passed away or they separated. He has been following the Pretty Farm Boy's cam career for a few years now and is more than a little in lust. He is not prepared to see Steve in overalls and a flannel shirt slinging fruits and vegetables at the local farmers market. 

Billy gets a boner watching Steve hand a cucumber to a customer. Max next to him is all "Jesus Christ Billy." Shaking her head before she is dragging him over to meet Steve. 

Billy stumbling over just spitting out the first thing that pops into his head "You put on a good show pretty boy, you got any parsnips?" Lips going tight as he realizes what he just said, Steve’s show last night had featured parsnips. "I mean a good show showing vegetables, you really know your way around a cucumber." Billy snaps his mouth shut, blood rushing to his face. 

Luckily for him Steve thinks it is funny and thinks he is cute. "I bet you're no stranger to plowing a field, Billy was it?" Steve says with a wink and a smile.

Max looks between them tight lipped "We'll this is gross and I don't need to be here for it so I'm going back to the stand," She slaps Billy on the back hard breaking him out of stupidly grinning at Steve "don't forget you're here to help me asshole. See you later Steve." 

They trade a few terrible farm puns before Billy inevitably has to return to help Max with the stand as the rush hits, Steve’s own stand crowding clueing him in. 

Steve has a smaller farmstead, running it with just two farm hands which means less to sell and he is all packed up and missing from his booth before Billy can think about getting back over there and asking him out. Billy sulks as they pack up what is left, already making a plan for asking Steve out next week when Max once again tight lipped slaps a peach into his hand with a little post-it note pinned to it's little stem. "I'm beginning to regret asking you to come here, I don't need to know about your sex life." She says with a heavy sigh turning and walking away before Billy can question her. 

Billy grins utterly delighted as he reads the post-it note 'Got an even better peach you can eat sometime' followed by Steve’s name and his number and the worst little drawing of someone's ass Billy has ever seen. He tucks the little sticky note into the front pocket of his flannel and bites into the peach, juice running into his beard. He will definitely be using that number as soon as he is home. 

It starts with lust and at some point they fall in love but this is just what popped in my head and I just had to scribble it down.

Now with additional thots

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

wild west au

because @disdaidal mentioned it and i was already thinking of writing one (and yes, i know, indiana wasn’t one of the wild west states. we’re ignoring that though).

Steve flung a knitted scarf at Robin’s head and turned away just as it wrapped around her forehead, “Why don’t I have any clean Long Johns?” he shouted. He continued to dig in the hamper sized wicker basket uselessly all the while Robin laughed.

“It’s your job to do the laundry, Steve. You know how the wrinkles in my fingers freak me out,” she mused. She didn’t have to mention the additional reason being how she lost half their wardrobe in the well the last time he trusted her to complete the task.

He stood up and finger combed his hair back again, “Lend me a pair of your bloomers would you?” he shoved his basket away and returned to trying to crawl under his cot to retrieve his boot from Walter instead. Said cat, Walter, pawed a clawed out hand at his knuckles playfully. He hissed between his teeth the same moment Robin’s laughter grew hysterical.

“Your resort is to wear my undergarments?” she slapped a thigh as she bent to obey the request. “A real brute, you are, Steve Harrington. Wearing ladies bloomers!” After catching a grip on the lip of leather and narrowly missing the bar holding his makeshift mattress up with his head, Steve stood on his feet with red cheeks.

“If you were really a lady, you could’ve helped get laundry done,” Steve muttered to himself. He disregarded her ‘phhs’ sounding scoff and snatched the white fabric from Robin’s clenched grasp and turned around to change. “Remind me why I let you live with me.”

She scoffed through her teeth and he heard her tossing things around in a form of tidying up. “It’s just until I settle down.”

Steve pulled the bloomers up and then his pants, squinting past the almost unnoticeable bumps near the cuffs due to the lacing at the bottom underneath. “Right, because the local ladies are going to look at us and immediately catch on.”

“It’ll happen one day!” Robin’s arms were stretched out to Walter, the black haired cat darning grey streaks of age that they’d found in the library long ago. He sat on the bed with a cocked head just out of reach of her. She sighed at his slowness and let her hands drop back to her hips. Her skirts swayed and the amateurly embroidered flowers at the hem caught Walter’s attention enough for him to leap off of her pillows and down to the uneven wooden floor. Steve buttoned up his shirt and wondered over to the shutters, opening them up before readjusting the cuffs.

As he was about to turn and grab his tie, he caught a glance of a man walking out of the local hardware shop with a familiar redhead as caboose. He stared like a bird, partially leaning out of the window. He flew back wildly when the man looked up suspiciously and nearly caught his eye.

Robin made a shocked noise as he steadied himself roughly against the post of her bed and quickly began gathering his hat, boots, and red bandana. The bandana went securely under his chin and he stumbled for balance on his early morning legs as he pulled his black boots on. The vest hanging on a more hanger by a nail was fought on as he jogged to the drawer he kept his badge and gun in. He got as far as pinning the sheriff badge before he figured his lack of belt.

He looked over his shoulder and glared at Robin, she rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, “Are you going to help with my temperance speech today?”

Steve groaned and looked towards the sky as though he was pained, “I can’t, Robs. You know how my dad gets.”

She ‘humph’ed, “Grow a pair, Harrington.”

Steve pushed his hat down tighter against his head and shoved his gun through the tight waistband of his dark brown trousers. He ignored her and held his head high until he was three feet out the door of their bought out bunkhouse. It’s where Robin stayed and looked over while he was out. She held herself well, gave rooms to strangers, greeted them politely enough, and wasn’t afraid to pull a gun out and ring the bell for Steve’s service if a bandit came along. She was his best friend and all the older women and men in town loved to think they were a couple.

He marched his way over to the stables behind their house room. Coins jingled in the pouch he always had tied to one of the loops around his pants as he opened the side door. He clicked his tongue for his mustang mare, Sparky’s, attention. Her burgundy neck and chestnut mane flew up and back as she noisily made herself known.

“Good morning,” he chuckled at her antics and grabbed the saddle hanging up. He tossed it over the lip of the fence between them, and then jumped over so he could fasten it to her securely. He sat back, a little out of breath, as she eyed him from one side, thinking. “You ready for the morning patrol, Spar?” he scratched gently down her neck fondly. “Remind me to stop and get you some apples,” he hopped down. She neighed diligently while he whistled and opened the gate so she could make her way out on her own.

He heard distant footsteps as he grabbed hold of the reins of Sparky’s bridle. He stayed looking forward and used his other hand to rest against the handle of his pistol sticking out of his pants. When there was a slow squeak of the hinges of the barn door, he was drawn up and aiming right at…Dustin Henderson. He sighed, relived, and shoved his gun back.

Dustin looked unimpressed, “Buck steal your belt again?”

Steve tugged lightly on Sparky and walked her out, “Yes, Henderson, yes she did,” he shook his head as the boy laughed at him.

“Well, lucky for you,” the boy adjusted his cap from the city and looked towards the sun, “There’s no robberies so far.” Steve used the sleeve of his shirt to remove the sweat from his brow after he’d made it on top of Sparky.

He looked down at Dustin, “What’s up with your tone?”

“Hm?” he didn’t miss Dustin press his lips together to hide his amused grin.

Steve kicked his shoulder, “What are you hiding?”

Dustin frowned and rubbed his arm, grumbling, “You’re a green bellied gator, you know that?”

“Who you calling green, Henderson?” Dustin walked along side Sparky as Steve guided her out around the property and to the slow streets of town.

“Oh,” Dustin sang like a crow, “I don’t know. How about the fact that just yesterday Mrs. Wheeler was eyeing up and gettin’ touchy with Mr. Billy Hargrove and she’s all of a sudden being dreadfully ignored by the post office and Mr. Bobby in the saloon.” Steve didn’t look back down from his sights on the carriage of people with their laundry hampers to go wash in the stream a mile out. He caught Billy and his sister, Max, amidst them. Dustin paused shortly to follow his gaze. “They’re sayin’ that she must have done somethin’ real bad to get on your bad side.”

Steve snorted and tipped his hat down in a respectable greeting towards the carriage as they passed it, “Mrs. Wheeler was out of line towards Mr. Billy Hargrove yesterday. The man was only trying to sell barley while that…well, I won’t use such discriminatory words. But she was disrespectful in the day time hours. She’s twenty years his senior and a married woman.” Steve let the reins be loose and began making thin braids in Sparky’s hair. He flushed when he looked up and caught Billy Hargrove watching him and smirking with a green grass blade sticking out of his mouth. He shuddered and returned his attention to Dustin, “But, anyway, who said I had anything to do with Mrs. Wheeler’s fate at this given time?”

Dustin laughed with his head thrown back, “You’re not fooling no one, Sheriff!”

[luminnara]

Yes!! Imagine reader introducing billy to a headstrong horse and he's like,, what's wrong with this one,, it's so stubborn and the reader like 🙃 it's you, you are that horse :) you're that stubborn - 💋

WAIT WAIT WAIT NEW IMAGINE UNLOCKED

Billy as the horse show boyfriend. The one who carries your saddles and all your shit over to the stall for you and stands there holding the horse for you and and always walks you to the gate and is right there after your ride. Your horses barely ever listen to him because he’s just The Boyfriend so they’re always messing with him and getting away with whatever they can whenever you leave him in charge for a few minutes

[frightenedofrabbits]

Oh don’t mind me actually over here writing the Deaf/HOH Billy Harringrove fic that I’ve had in mind for months.

[thisisatrashcanuwu]

Farming

I could kill for farmer billy. Please. I’m so thirsty for it. Imagine Billy just leaves home one day, tired with Neil and the anger and trauma he developed from his “father” and he’s so desperate to put himself out there and to do something. To feel useful for himself for once. He’s just driving. He has nowhere to go anymore and it’s late and his cars almost out of gas and he’s hungry as shit when he sees a farm and within it the kitchen light on through the sun stained curtains. He stops his car and parks without a thought and makes his way to the front door. He’s bruised and bleeding and hungry and tired and when a gruff looking man with moles all across his arms opens the door all he can do is ask quietly for a place to spend a few days with a “please sir.”

The farmer knows a lost soul when he sees one. And soon he isn’t referred to as the farmer anymore. He tells Billy that his name is Drew and that he’s willing to let Billy stay as long as he needs so long as he helps out around the farm (Drew’s getting old and it hurts him to do everything) cue Billy wearing muddy overalls and his old trucker hat. Cue billy learning humility and true friendship cue Billy starting to understand that not everyone’s out to get him and he doesn’t have to bloody seduce people to get them to like him.

Billy lays awake some nights under the quilted sheets of his bed and he thinks about Max. He knows he hasn’t been a good brother, never has. But he’s picked up a few things. He’s learning, and he wants to try. So he calls her one day from Drew’s landline and they bicker for awhile, Max is mad he left and he’s mad that max is mad. The line goes silent and he heaved a sigh before he admits “yeah I miss you shi-Max.” And Max is so shocked that she nearly hangs up. She agrees to visit but he has to make it up to her friends. He agrees.

The party meets up at the farm not even a week later. Jane is very amazed by the sheep and she quietly keeps to them, picking wheat out from their messy wool. Lucas and mike are climbing hay bales and Dustin is feeding some cows with a grin on his face. Not long after Mike is standing by Billy with a glare and will is standing not too far behind him. He’s suspicious of him, of how he’s changed. They’ve come expecting some kind of fight but billy is being nice? Or quiet at least. He’s about to interrogate when Max walks up the drive clutching her skateboard and hugs Biilly for the first time in probably forever they relax and begrudgingly smile and accept it. If Steve could change then maybe Billy could too.

He knows it’s going to take a lot more then some hot eggos and stew to win the party over and that he has a lot to make up for but right now Billy is the happiest he’s been since he surfed that 7 foot wave.

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Farmer’s Market AU Part 2

Steve dreamed of the beach. All night and every day that first week. He could hear the waves and gulls, feel the sand between his toes— even just sitting at his desk at work. He could close his eyes on his lunch break or in between sales calls, and in his mind’s eye he could see a dazzling grin. Golden hair. A blue eyed wink.

A fucking wink— Billy Hargrove had called him “something sweet”, taken Steve’s hand, and winked.

All of that first week, Steve walked around in a fog of heavy summer heat, the phantom smell of thick, floral honey making his heart race.

“You’re smiling.” Wanda would often remark, one of those acquaintances at the nearest desk at work. Her eyebrow would be raised, her lips set in a wry smirk. “What’re you smiling about?”

The dreamy tilt of his lips on that Friday was stronger than usual, and for once, Steve didn’t shrug off the question.

The grin took over his face, and Wanda chuckled with disbelief.

“You getting laid? I’ve never seen you like this.”

Steve laughed, nearly giddy “I guess I met someone, maybe.”

He was surprising himself, honestly.

Steve Harrington had a rep back home— he was King Steve, the best fuck in school, a smooth talker, and a guy you could bring home to mom. The perfect boyfriend.

But Steve Harrington had never been wooed before. He was always the one trying to romance some chick— he’d never felt desired the way he did when Billy had started in on him. The blonde had chuckled and grinned that beautiful grin that day at the little honey stand. He talked with glimmering blue eyes, and told Steve all about the farmers market. Who’s stall was who’s— all while still holding Steve’s honey-smeared hand.

Not even with Nancy had he ever been so taken with someone. Billy had taken his hand and sold him some honey, and Steve was absolutely smitten. Steve didn’t even use honey, what do you even do with honey?

He bought more the next Saturday. And the next.

He couldn’t just show up at the farmers market every week without buying anything. Then it would be too obvious what he was there to do. Steve could almost hear his mother saying “Steven, it’s rude to hang around a shop without buying anything”. Her eye roll in his mind’s eye was vivid.

He didn’t particularly miss her.

So, he bought more jars every week— to send home? Maybe just to collect dust in his house? Steve wasn’t sure yet, he couldn’t manage to think that far ahead. He could barely manage to think at all with Billy Hargrove so close to him.

Steve went to the market every week for nearly a month, his heart pattering, his lips tilted in an absent smile as he approached the little town from the beach. He’d make a slow circle, perusing around each stall, trying not to look too eager, before landing at the Hargrove’s Honey stand.

On the fourth week, Billy was grinning at him like he always was when Steve inevitably ended up before him, pretending to weigh the merits of wildflower versus orange blossom. There was a giddy amusement that shone in those blue eyes that made Steve want to laugh.

“Welcome to Hargrove’s Honey— can I help you find something particular?” He drawled, smirking.

“Oh, me? I’m just like the bees, Man-- looking for something sweet.” Steve said, his turn to wink across the table. It was terrible, and he knew it. The blonde threw his head back with a laugh. 

“Ew, you’re a fucking sap.” he chuckled, glowing with his smile. 

“I’ll take this.” Steve held out a small jar with a drawing of lavender sprigs on the label. He kept a tight lid on the grin that threatened at his lips. His cheeks felt hot, but Steve told himself it was the summer heat.

Bees hovered lazily around them as Steve handed over his little jar, his gut flipping when Billy’s fingers brushed over his to take it.

“Lavender this week?” Came a new voice, a low whistle accompanying it.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

Billy’s smile slipped away and he rolled his eyes, unable to hide his blush as he turned to the woman who had appeared beside him.

She laughed— definitely making fun of them both, but somehow not unkind as she ruffled a hand through Billy’s curls. He squawked indignantly and Steve would have poked a little fun at him if he wasn’t rooted to the spot taking in this new person.

“You go through honey like no one I’ve ever seen— and this guy can eat it with a spoon.” The strange woman joked with Steve as if they were friends or something, gesturing to Billy.

“Mom, what the Hell—“

“Just having a little fun, Billy.” She grinned, turning her attention back to Steve. “So, young man— what brings you to our little market every week?”

Steve wasn’t quite listening.

Mom. Billy had said that he ran the stand with his mom, but Steve hadn’t seen her. Now he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known it immediately.

The family resemblance was almost more like goddamn cloning. Billy’s mom had the same wild blonde curls that she’d somehow wrangled into a long plait over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and laser focused, more manic than Billy’s warm gaze, but the same striking blue.

Her tan was sprinkled with delicate dustings of freckles, and Steve felt the sudden need to inspect every inch of Billy’s golden skin for those same spots.

She was beautiful— like mother, like son, he supposed.

“You come by just about every week now, don’t you?” Mrs. Hargrove repeated, a wry smirk burning into him.

“Oh, I’m— just picking up honey for friends back home.” He stumbled through the words “I’m new to the area.”

Her smirk spread into a sly grin “Well, welcome to Morro Bay. What’s your name, Sweetie?”

“Steve.” Both Steve and Billy said in tandem, each just a bit more mortified than the other.

There was a beat of silence where Mrs. Hargrove’s blue gaze flicked between the two of them and Steve had the inexplicable feeling of a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Or maybe a honey pot.

“Well Steve, could you be so kind as to help Billy load up the truck? It’s just, my back has been bothering me, and old Tom over there’s been needing my help with his strawberry stand, and—“

“You didn’t tell me about any back pain.” Billy groused, brow furrowed and a flush high on his cheeks.

“Well, it just started.” She said pointedly—

“I’d be happy to help, Mrs. Hargrove.” Steve cut in, smiling hastily.

Billy looked about embarrassed enough to have an actual coronary, but his mom clapped both her hands around Steve’s, squeezing.

“Thank you. What a sweet boy— Billy, show him how to load up the crates?” From the moment she’d arrived, the bees had found a new purpose in their flying, and by the time she looked back at Steve in that moment,there was a veritable halo of honey bees around her hat.

Steve was about to say something, but couldn’t find the words before Mrs. Hargrove floated away, calling “and come by for lunch at the farm— Billy can drive you up, I’ll go with Tom.”

The bees dispersed, flying back to Billy’s tomato red, wide eyed face as if drawn by magnetism. And Steve couldn’t help but smile, thinking that maybe Billy had been right on that first day that they’d met. Bees were just like people.

Steve felt drawn to Billy, too. Especially once no card table of honey jars was between them. Especially once it was just Steve and Billy, riding side by side in a truck full of crates, heading further and further into the countryside.

Steve listened to every frantic, embarrassed apology, and “Mom’s not crazy, she’s just a little wild-- you’ll like her once you get to know her... Not that you have to get to know her, you don--” 

“I already like her, Billy. I... I like both of you.”

And maybe Billy felt drawn to him too— like honey to a bee— when he reached over the center console and took Steve’s hand.

Steve intertwined their fingers, relishing the calloused roughness of his fingers and the contrast of the tanned skin. His heart hammered and his head buzzed with the static on the radio, and watched the green hills and wineries race by under the noon day sun.

[capjtk]

My three favorite types of Billy to read are Farmer!Billy, Bartender!Billy and Rockstar!Billy

[soft-for-them]

Seventies sundress in summer rain - Billy Hargrove x plus size reader

Summary: It's the second day in a row you're going to the swimming pool and it's because Billy Hargrove asked if you'd come.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

Part one - Part two - Part three

It is pelting it down with rain. 

It's the kind of rain were the sky  looks like a lightning storm because it's suddenly dark and cloudy, it's the kind of rain that rattles houses and knocks over rubbish bins before disappearing never to be seen again, it’s the kind of rain that can sour a happy mood in an instant with its quick and harsh shower.

The rain hits diagonally, it’s fast and hard on the once burning hot concrete, the sharp droplets hitting your bare arms as you rush under the nearest bit of cover which just so happens to be some over grown trees on the side of the road you’re walking down.

You're nowhere near your small home, nowhere near the maniac’s shop across the street or near the row of upper middle class homes overlooking the petite bungalow you reside in. You’re a good ten or fifteen minutes from Joyce Byers quiet home. You worked with her when she worked at the store and you’re friendly with her sons but her home is off the road through bushes and dirty pathways so waiting there isn’t an option. If you were to walk that way the Byers would happily let you in their home but you’d be covered in mud and stinging nettle stings by then, which doesn’t sound pleasant at all.

It’s simpler just to wait under the droopy trees walking alongside the houses that are far and few between.

The way you normally walk to the pool, the road you’re on now, is a nice road shaded with trees and long overgrown grass trampled down by the people who walk the path every day to get to civilisation. Private roads lead to houses of both the rich and the poor, separated by farmer’s fields and impressive gardens, the long road quiet and grey.

The journey is about five minutes shorter than going through roads of concrete and parked station wagons down your way and there's the added bonus of looking at the wildlife all around, that and you don’t feel fully comfortable walking through the more crowded areas in your swimming costume.

Birds are always around, new nests in the trees and butterflies fluttering around in the summer heat, well they were anyway.

If you time it right on some days you can say hello to the old farm dog who sun bathes at a front gate, the old girl always getting a few ear scratches from you. The old dog is probably cosy inside by now whilst you slow down you pace in your ever growing wet sundress as the sky cries out.

Drips of tear drops on you little over the shoulder bag and yellow ice box make a pleasant patting sound despite every other drop going on your arm making you shiver.

You’re merely wearing a sleeves sundress with a rather seventies print, a style you’ve realise you wear a lot. The warm browns, yellows and oranges did match with the morning sun that was out a few moments ago but now you feel a bit silly sticking out in the wet greet foliage all soggy and smelling of rain.

You stand and stop to think for a moment.

Do you carry on your trek towards the pool hoping that the clouds will clear and the sun will shine again so you can relax by the pool or do you wait till the rain fully stops?

The rain itself feels like the type of summer rain that is quick and hard, not prolonged at all but the type that could be devastating, the type to give you a summer cold or worse, close the pool for the day.

If that’s type of rain then the sun will evaporate the dampness in minutes when the rain eventually stops and you’d get dry quickly but there’s still the thought of getting soaked to the bone before the sun comes back out.

If you decide to carry on walking underneath the shade of the trees you’d be to the pool in no time with only the canvas of you slip on dap shoes a little soggy and your dress a tad wet.

So that’s what you decide to do.

You start slowly walking onwards minding not to tread on the accumulating puddles and mussy grass near the rain drains; you might be shaded by the tall trees by you’re still technically on the side of a road so you don’t want to slip over in to a ditch or gosh forbid in front an oncoming car, which are far and few between this early in the morning.

With a hop, skip, a little itty bitty jump you find a trail that is safe enough that you don’t slip over or get a face full of full force summer rain.

It’s very nice actually, looking past the fact it’s rain, everything seems comfortable and nice.

Even with the orange patterned dress on you feel great. The dress itself is normally worn with a blouse or shirt under it, for you feel a little bit insecure about you pudgy upper arms but that morning it was so sweltering hot that you opted to wear something that was both cool and something that looks nice on you over your black skin tight one piece.

With the dress coming just below the knee the skirt swishes with the damp grass and odd wild flower. You feel somewhat princess like, not in the royal kind of sense but like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty frolicking around the woods with their bird friends.

It’s pleasant though a bit silly considering you just going to lie under a large umbrella and read your book for a couple of hours, whilst trying not to seem weird because this is the second day in a row you’ve come to the pool.

A sweet laugh, almost a giggle escapes, as you walk on, the rain slowly but surely lessening as you get closer to the grey sidewalks and angular buildings.

And just as you step out of the foliage onto the gravel of a driveway a car drives by.

At first you look up to see if it’s trying to get into the driveway you stand on but then you’re utterly confused when that same speeding car reverses backwards and stops in front of you.

Low down tires and blue-grey colour the 79 Camaro screeches to halt the widow already down and Billy Hargrove himself hanging out the side with a somewhat goofy smile on his face.

Bloody hell. Why him?

“You still going to the pool princess?” he smirks as he leans forward to look you up and down, his eyes lingering just a split second on the small amount of cleavage you have out.

To you Billy Hargrove is an odd one.

His ‘friends’ have bullied you since middle school and he ignores you when he’s around them but when you share a class together he only really talks to you, when he finds you alone, a thing he actively tries to do, he stays and tries to chat like he isn’t the king of the school.

You tell him if there’s homework and he tends to stick around like a lost puppy until a cheerleader or jock pulls him away. You don’t know what to think about him, not really, but you still try to be nice.

“Yes.” you’re a bit blunt with your reply but it only makes the mullet haired man smirk even more.

Billy leans back into the driver’s seat and pushes open the passenger seat door.

His arm are still stretched out as you just stand there is shock, not a bad shock by any means, you’re just a bit confused. Never has he done this before, you’ve hardly spoken a full coherent conversation with him.

Well, maybe yesterday when he asked for a drink and pulled you out the pool was the longest you’ve talked to him.

Billy must see this confusion on your face as he lets out a hearty chuckle. It’s not mean spirited like the laughs his friends might let out upon seeing you damp and in a dress walking the side of the road like some hitchhiker but it’s a nice laugh.

“Come on (Y/n) you’ll be soaked in a moment.”

All you do is nod and walk over to his car.

“You sure?” you ask bending slightly down to look at Billy only noticing now that he’s shirtless and in those bright red lifeguard shorts.

He smirks more, his eyes flicker back down to your breasts then back to your eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you quip as you slid into the car.

“Just going there now princess.”

Princess, why is he calling you that all the sudden!

Looking where you’re stepping you hop over a small puddle to get the open passenger side door, Billy arm is still outstretched as you bend down. His fingers flex, he wants to reach out and touch you, the type of soft touch on your arm or tight that people do to people they like but he reaches his arm back.

You quickly climb in, seat belt on and your bags on your lap, and for a moment Billy just stares at you. You’re damp and flushed, heat radiating off you both, the rain tip tapping on the now closed door with blaring rage.

“Ready?” he says low and deep, his eyes still right on you as your gaze flicks up to him then back to the ice box on your lap.

 You nod and without another word the car speeds down the road.

All that is heard inside the car is the harsh rain, the radio not on at all, every now and then the sound of Billy going to say something but then deciding not to making you look quickly up then back down to your lap.

Peering out the widow quickly, the world outside seems like a video game. One moment the place is all green and rainy then the next the rain seems to completely stop, like when a video game character goes to another level with a different environment. The green is swapped out with grey concrete and chain linked fences, the sun now out drying the town out.

You don’t know if the heat that takes over you is from the rays of sun now hitting you through the car’s window or the fact you’re in Billy’s car. You don’t like to think about it too much as the car pulls up to the pool, Billy haphazardly parking in a space meant for the lifeguards.

Feeling flushed in the face and still having a damp outfit, and really not wanting to hang around Billy in his small car any longer (for you might burn too ashes under his gaze), you quickly give Billy a ‘thank you’ and get out.

His eyes follow you as you quickly pace through the open gate of the pool, kids already barrelling up to you asking loudly why you weren’t waiting in line like you normally are.

He stays in his car for a moment, still watching you.

You’ve been at the pool for a two hours and you hate it.

Normally you come on days when there’s less people, even if less people is just three or four less judging mothers, but being so flustered at Billy fucking Hargrove’s question from yesterday you’re now at the pool on one of the busiest days of the week.

There seems to be double the sunbathing mums and triple the screaming children. You’re supply of juice boxes and water bottles (that you hurried to buy late night with you spare change) are almost all gone and the finale nail in the coffin is that you’re not in your usual spot.

When you hurried into the already bustling pool a group of teens had already been sitting in your spot with their legs dangling in the water and their asses firmly set in place. So now you sit back to a chain linked fence, dress and shoes still on, debating whether you should go home.

Five minutes in to sitting down in the more secluded spot your clothes had dried, erasing the evidence of such harsh rains, only for some kids to splash you. Like you’re the furthest away from the pool but somehow these kids you don’t recognise decided it would be funny to splash as many people they could with one big tidal wave!

The rain doesn’t matter any more because you’re soaked from chlorine blue pool water.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you become shy at remembering his words.

Billy’s words repeat in your head again and again as you stand up and try to ring out the pool water from your nice dress only to get the water on your newly dried shoes. Thankfully your new book, a library copy of the latest Stephen King book, isn’t water damaged but your tote bag still smells like chemicals from to splash.

So with your bag and ice box slung over your shoulder, your shoes now wet and squelchy you begin heading out of the pool back home.

You ignore the looks of people staring at you as you try to get away, their steely gaze hidden by bulky plastic sunglasses and sun visors. You have to dodge plenty of kids running around and you have to endure even more splashing as you try to escape.

You feel soggy and blue and you really just want to float in the water and relax in the sun.

The feeling of the sun hitting your sun screen protected skin, half of your plush body emerged in the cold water, your hair slowly soaking up the chlorine, with your eyes closed but you senses fully awake and open.

That feeling.

That feeling is just pure bliss.

You can turn off your mind, feel warm and cool at the same time, whilst wasting the time away without feeling guilty. It’s a time were you don’t feel insecure about your roundness, about what people think about you and your body.

But you can’t have that feeling today and whilst that’s disappointing, it’s fine really, you’d much rather walk home and read your book in the small nook that is your bedroom instead of forcing yourself to stay at the pool.

Almost over the threshold of the pool’s entrance your hear a shout, not a particularly loud shout nor one of anger but one you choose to ignore for all you can hear is someone shouting ‘Hey!’ and that could be aimed at almost anyone in the crowds of the pool.

A kid almost crashes into you, making you wobble off balance as the kid is unscathed by your much taller and rounder body acting like a barrier between them and the pool.

“SORRY MISS” the kid yells before cannonballing into the pool, splashing you once more.

Choruses of more apologies ring out from them and their friends, childish giggles making you shake your head in amusement. Honestly these kids might be little shits but they’re easiest to deal with than the mothers that still stare at you.

“HEY!”

There it is again, this time closer and more recognisable.

A quick look over your shoulder you see him. Billy Hargrove, only in his red shorts, actually doing his job for once and telling the kids to stop splashing people.

As he’s distracted you carry on walking you don’t feel the longing look of Billy staring at you until he jogs up to you, his hand ghosting you bare arm, his smirk growing bigger and sappier by the second.

“Where you going?” he questions with a hint of concern.

It may be boiling but the place where his wide hand hovers feels like a burn, you almost want him to clasp your arm or you might have to move away from him.

His hand drops though, the other one going up to rub the nap of his neck, his necklace catching the sun thus catching your eyes, his eyes sparkling as he sees your focus change to the golden jewellery hanging on his tanned chest.

“Like what you see princess?”

Your face erupts with heat as hot as the sun that shines on this humid day, your eyes widening in shock and embarrassment. It takes a few moments to collect yourself, that done by looking completely away from the handsome bully that is Billy and focusing on the damp patch on your orange patterned dress – a wet splodge that clings to your tummy and lower back – a darker damp spot that is quickly being dried by the sun that is as hot as your face.

“You’re-“ you pause and think about whether or not you want to say what you’re about to say, “- you’re asking a lot of question Billy.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“And there’s another!” a smirk now creeps onto your face as you carry on talking, “All you ever do is ask me questions Billy; ‘do we have homework?’ or ‘Can I have a drink?’-“

You voice goes into a grumbly tone mixed with a faux Californian accent, it sounds utterly idiotic but it makes Billy smile so sweetly that you wonder if it’s the same man who hangs around with people who’ve bullied you since you’ve moved to Hawkins.

“Ok, I’m asking a lot but who’s to blame me when I want to get to know you.” He chuckles, his body leaning in, blocking you from running away from embarrassment.

“Well then-“ you feel oddly light. It might be from heat exhaustion or from those baby blues staring back at you with such warmth, “-I should get going.”

He stays in place as you walk around him, the two of you happy with bright grins and warm faces, thoughts running in your minds of things you’ve never felt for one another.

“Let me drive you home!” he half shouts, his body ready to bolt to his car.

“You’ve got work Hargrove.” You shout back, “I’ll see you Monday in History.”

“We have homework?” he hollers even louder.

“You’ll need to actually show up to the class to know that Billy!” you yell back, too far away to hear the scoffs of the tanning PTA mothers.

The sun is shining brightly the rain now gone.

It’s the kind of sun that if you stand directly in it for too long you’ll burn, it’s the kind of sunny day where the blue sky is almost too blue like a child’s drawing, the type of day that is perfect for a blossoming romance to begin.

.

.

.

A/N: In my mind this is an AU of sorts because I don't want to deal with all the supernatural shenanigans ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also I'm imagine part one and this part are over the course of a weekend, idk, Billy and the reader are adults and it's too hot right now to think of all the details of jobs and such.

Anyway I hope everyone like this second part, I've enjoyed writing it!