#imagine steve and billy
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Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.
Movie Night
I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.
wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)
Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.
You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about.
But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.
So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.
When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.
And that sets your fate.
Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine.
It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.
You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.
Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again.
You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.
And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.
You’re fine.
“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.”
“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.
“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this.
“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside.
You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility.
Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.
Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.
After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.
He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.
He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.
“I’m sorry.”
Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside?
You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.
Billy Hargrove.
Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.
“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.
“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.
“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.
“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.”
“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.
“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive.
“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.”
Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed.
It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.
“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.
“Why were you crying?”
“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.
“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.
“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.
“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”
He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.
“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.
“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.
“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.
“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.
“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.
“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.
“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.
“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.
“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.
You didn’t need more reminders.
So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.
Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.
You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.
“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.
“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.
“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house.
“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.
“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.
“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”
A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.
Yet–
“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?”
“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.
“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.
“You’re in for a ride.”
Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.
“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you.
“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.
“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.
“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.
So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.
“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?”
“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.
News flash, you didn’t like it.
“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.
“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”
You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness.
“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.
“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.”
“What?”
“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.
“Billy–”
“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.”
You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest.
“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.
“Can I kiss you?”
What?
There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you.
“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.
“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.
“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.
“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.”
You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.
His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?
The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him.
He wants to take care of you.
He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.
“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.”
He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.
The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss.
You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself.
Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.
The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–
“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.
“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.
“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.
“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.
“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.
“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!”
“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.
“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.
“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.
“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.
“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.
“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”
“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.
“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.
“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.
“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body.
“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.
He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party.
This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’
He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day.
He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can.
So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you.
Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.
But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.
“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.
“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left.
While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense.
You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real.
So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.
His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.
“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.
“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs.
“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.
“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.
“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.
“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.
“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.
“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.
“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat.
“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.”
Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.
“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.
“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.
“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another.
“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.
“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.
“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.
“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.
“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.
“My turn.”
A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.
#billy hargrove#harrington!reader#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargove x reader#billy hargove imagine#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fluff#soft!billy hargrove#ooc#one shot#stranger things one shot#request#fanfiction#billy stranger things#billy hargrove angst#angst#fluff
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Lipstick Stains
Billy Hargrove x Harrington FemReader
Summary: There has been some new gossip floating through Hawkins High. The gossip being that Billy has a lipstick stain that just so happens to match a certain girl's iconic shade.
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You were a Harrington. You had a certain standing that you had to keep cause of the expectations of your parents. One of those expectations were not making out with Billy Hargrove in his car in the back of the school parking lot during lunch. But your parents were never home so you didn't really give a damn.
"Billy we have to go back into the school at some point." You said releasing your lips from his. As you tried to pull back he pulled you in for another quick kiss.
"Oh come on, we don't have to." He smirked to you.
"Listen Mr. Bad Boy, I know you don't like school but I have a test." You said to him. He gave you a small pout at your response to which you just laughed at him. "You also messed up my lipstick." You said as you flipped the visor down to use the mirror to reapply your dark red lipstick.
"That's not the only thing I can mess up." He joked. You just gave him the look, he knew the look. It didn't need a name.
"Well Hargrove I have to get going." You brought yourself close to kiss his neck then up to the apple of his freckled cheeks. You collected you things to go back into the school before the bell. Before you shut the door you look back at Billy to see the two kiss marks that you left on him. You just smiled at him.
"Love ya, see you later." You said then shut the door to go to the school.
Billy continued with his day like usual. Thinking that nothing would go out of the ordinary. He knew he was hot shit so people were staring at him as perusal but he didn't know what they were staring at. In each class he had stares his way, to which he had to tell some off for looking too long.
"Nice job man." Tommy Hagan laughed as he patted his back. Billy was just confused about what he was talking about but he continued as nothing was wrong. The bell rang through the halls to signal that the school day was over. Billy made his way to the doors top the parking lot to leave when he saw a certain Steve Harrington staring him down from his locker.
"You got a problem Harrington?" He asked.
"Yeah, not with you though." Steve replied slamming his locker shut to go find a certain sister of his. Billy didn't know that, he was just confused and thought nothing of it. He finally was able to make it to his Camaro to wait for Max. Students around him were still looking at him. Some girls looking in distaste, not at him but at the kiss marks on his cheeks. Some guys were just laugh in congrats to him. Billy just wanted to get the hell out and get Max home so he can go see his girlfriend. Billy looked over to see a certain red head making her way over to his car.
"Get in shit-bird, I got places to be." He said as he got in the drivers seat while Max got in the passenger seat. She just stared at him, more than she would usually. Which is not at all. Billy glanced at her a few times.
"What?" He asked annoyed with her staring.
"What's on your face?" She asked. Billy was confused until he thought back to lunch. He grabbed his sun visor to look himself in the mirror to see the two kiss marks on him. Just as he thought, one on his cheek and the other on his neck. He just laughed what he was looking at.
"Well that explains a Lot." He sighed starting his car to drive away.
Later that day Billy was able to make it to the Harrington house hold. Instead of parking down the street, he parked in the driveway. Instead of climbing through the window of his girlfriends bedroom, he simply knocked the front door of her house. Which, unfortunately, the other Harrington answered. He and Steve just stared at one another for a moment.
"Hargrove."
"Harrington."
"What are you doing here?"
"I think you know why exactly I'm here, or you don't."
"I do know why you're here." Steve stated sternly.
"Then tell me, why am I here?" Billy gabbed at him with a smirk playing on his face.
"Can you guys stop having a dick measuring contest for once." Your voice was heard in a very much over it tone. "Get out of here Steve."
"But-" You stopped him from continuing.
"Eh, I don't wanna hear any more then I already have. You're being a Buttface." You sassed at him. "Now I would like to talk to my boyfriend."
Steve just rolled his eyes and sighed. Walking away from his enemy and his sister in the same door way. You turn your head back to Billy with a grin on your face.
"So what are you doing here, handsome."
"Well, I am here to see my girlfriend that I have to have a small chat about." His voice going a slight octave lower. Something that you loved.
"And what do you have to chat about?" You stilled teased at him.
"Well I made out with this gorgeous woman at lunch, and after I thought my day would go by like usual. But I had people staring at me all day. I didn't know why until I looked into the mirror to find that the exact pretty girl I was kissing left some marks on me." He explained to you. "Now I am at said pretty girls house to get a reason why she did that."
"Well I think she just wanted to have a bit of fun with you, if you ask me."
"Well as much as I love that, I think I would love to have some fun with her right now."
"Well you'er gonna have to wait on that, handsome." You said." Big Bro ain't to happy with me, I've been getting an ear full for the past hour."
"I can wait." He reassured. "I will always wait for you, gorgeous." You just smiled at him and dragged him into your house.
"Is he staying long?" Steve's distant voice was heard.
"Shut up Steve." You yelled out to him. "Like I said, ear full all day."
You and Billy just laughed at the situation. But at least you both can enjoy each others company in the end.
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I hope y'all enjoyed this. Sorry if it is short. I know I haven't been to active, writing wise, lately. I'm trying to get through school right now.
I will try to get more out for Boots and Trumpets, and Practically Magic later.
Thank you for reading.
#billy hargrove#stranger things#billy hargove imagine#fanfiction#steve harrington#billy hargrove x fem reader#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#dustin henderson#eddie munson#eleven hopper#max mayfield#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove fanfiction#stranger things billy#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagine#demogorgon
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Okay so maybe Billy was really that drunk
#harringrove#drunk billy and steve au?#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#incorrect harringrove quotes#billy hargrove x steve harrington#harringroveera#harringrove textpost#harringrove au#harringrove headcanon#harringrove imagine#incorrect billy hargrove quotes#steve x billy#steve harrington x billy hargrove#steve harrington meme#billy hargrove meme#harringrove edit#harringrove meme#incorrect steve harrington
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LOVER BOY_headcanons.strangerthings
dating eddie munson headcanons
SUMMARY — relationship eddie headcanons
A/N — i just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone who liked my other eddie headcanons post, i wasn't expecting all the love, but i appreciate it immensely :))
MASTERLIST | BACK
when he likes someone, he thinks he's being really subtle, but he's not
him, a stuttering, nervous wreck; "uh hey, cool shirt"
you, deadpan; "it's your shirt, that you gave me to wear, because you thought i'd look cute in it"
always tries to impress you in silly ways
"wanna see how fast i can run?"
"bet i can jump and hit that sign without running"
"i caught you a squirrel because you said they were cute that one time"
is touch starved
as such, he will always be touching you in some capacity; hand on your knee while in class, hand on your thigh or fingers interlaced with yours while driving, he will sit on you if there's nowhere for him.
when you hug him, kiss him, or cuddle with him he will hold on and refuse to let you go until you're late, like really late, you'd have to leave ten minutes ago late.
is big on pet names when you're alone, but mostly calls you by your last name or a shortened version of your name when in public
he's big on baby, sweetheart, dollface.
angel and prince/princess are reserved for when he's fucked up royally, or you're sad or sleepy.
will touch everything you own
perfume/cologne sitting on your dresser? sprayed himself in the face with it the first time he picked it up, but really liked how it smelled so he puts a spitz on every time you leave him alone in your room. just spent the day at the pool and he needs to shower at yours? he will use your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and even your deodorant "do you want me to stink? :(". every time he comes in he finds something new to play with. old stuffie under your bed? he's carrying it around/hugging it/holding it until he leaves. trinkets on the top of your bed frame? he'll make them talk to each other when he's bored.
has a hard time sleeping when you're not close
he and sleep have rarely ever been on the same page, so he finds things to do to occupy his time, so when he's in a relationship that usually means he's dragging you along with him; be it going for a swim at 2am at lovers lake, a quick trip to the gas for snacks, or just straight up falling ungracefully through your window and crawling into bed with you to try and grab a couple hours of sleep (while simultaneously scaring the shit out of you because you were already sleeping).
because of the above, he will constantly nap around you while you're hanging out
you're his safe space, he spends most of his time in your presence passed out; laying on his back on the floor with his legs tossed over the side of your bed with his feet tucked under your thigh while you study, arms crossed over his chest while you're head's in his lap as you read out loud to him – he swears he's awake but every so often he lets out a soft snore, sitting on the couch watching a romcom with his head on your shoulder as he struggles to keep his eyes open, literally any time you touch his head/hair he's out like a light.
100% is glued to your side and tells everyone you're his best friend as well as his gf/bf
he goes on errands with you and spends 99% of his free time with you, he drags you along to band practice — which you usually use as an opportunity to feed baked goods to his bandmates (who absolutely adore you for it), when he's working you usually sit around with him passing him tools as he needs them — "uh need 9/16 wrench–" and it's already in your hand like you read his mind.
when you're not around, brags about you to anyone who will listen to him, and carries a picture (that he switches out for newer ones he takes) of you in his wallet that he shows off constantly — "look how cute they are" "my girlfriend/boyfriend is hotter".
writes songs about you
sometimes he'll write them just for himself, or for your ears only recording them on a tape just for you to have a reminder of how much he loves you.
you better believe that wayne loves you for being a good influence on him
you make him eat all breakfast, lunch & dinner — before you he would forget to eat and usually pumped himself full of caffeine only, you get him a reuseable water bottle (which you bribe him to carry it around and actually drink from it) — to his credit he now drinks at least one full bottle, you make him wear sunscreen & a hat on sunny days, waterproof footwear and jacket on rainy/snowy days (he's shocked when he doesn't get sick as often).
at first wayne was wary of you, unsure of whether your intentions were genuine or if you were going to pull one over on eddie — which disappeared the first time he came home from work and saw you too cuddled up on the couch watching one of eddie's favourite movies (it was the way you were staring at him as he shared his favourite parts or something he read about it, or a fact about the filming/production — wayne tells this story at your wedding all teary eyed about his eddie being all grown up and so very obviously loved).
takes photos of you all the time
cutesy date night photos, spicy half-naked photos (or just straight up naked naked), you sleeping, you making an ugly face, you mid-sneeze, you smiling, he has it all caught on film and he loves each and every photo so much.
total softie for you and you alone
you've gotten him to do things he's straight up refused to do for his friends, and even wayne
does literally anything you ask, and even sometimes you don't have to ask, he just does it because he knows it'll make you happy and that's all he strives for, you being happy.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson moodboard#eddie munson smut#dustin henderson#dustin henderson x reader#robin buckley x reader#jonathan byers x reader#steve harrington x reader#billy hargove x reader#pileofboneswrites#eddie stranger things#eddie munson stranger things
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Sitting On Their Lap
Eddie: "Woah-" He'd chuckle. Immediately, his hands instinctively went to your waist, sitting you down on his thighs completely. "You're being cute again.." He'd tease, smiling warmly in your direction as his hands slipped down towards your thighs, gently rubbing up and down your sides lovingly
Gareth: He’d smile and immediately put his arm around you, pulling you a bit closer as his other hand slides down your hip. He’d love your hair in his face and your warmth against him.
Steve: He'd definitely be surprised at first. He'd chuckle softly before wrapping his arms around your hips and pulling you a little closer against him. Then he'd look at you with a cheeky smile. "Now, what do we have here?"
Robin: she'd have a surprised/flushed look on her face until she realized it was you. After that, she would wrap her arms around you and pull you closer. She'd ask, "And what is this for?"
Nancy: She’d gasp and be surprised, but then, she’d smile. She'd wrap her arms around your waist and pull you against her chest, and bury her face into your hair.
Jonathan: “Hey woah, hi to you too, love.” He’d smile up at you, his hands landing on your hips before they’d wrap gently around your torso, securing your position on his lap in place. He’d let out a content sigh from your proximity, taking comfort in your weight on top and pressing closer against you. “What’d I do to earn the honor of being used as your personal chair?”
Argyle: He immediately stopped what he was doing and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close so your back was pressed tightly against his chest. He could feel the heat radiating from you. “Hey.” He said with a grin.
Billy: He was surprised a bit but smiled at you. He wrapped his muscular arms around your body and pulled you close into a hug, his muscular chest pressed against your back. "Hey, you." He said and chuckled softly in your ear. He let one hand wander down your side until it rested on your thigh.
Henry: He would be surprised first and look at you with a suprised expression, but after that it would probably just make him smile as he would wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He might also bury his face into your hair and place a small kiss on your neck.
#eddie munson x reader#gareth emerson x reader#steve harrington x reader#robin buckley x reader#nancy wheeler x reader#jonathan byers x reader#argyle x reader#billy hargrove x reader#henry creel x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things#stranger things headcanons#stranger things hc
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healing
billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 5,445
warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??
a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333
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November 1985
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”
Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.
“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.
She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”
The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”
Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.
“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”
Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.
“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”
Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.
It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.
You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.
Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.
But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.
There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.
Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.
You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”
He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.
When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”
He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.
“Hey. Glad your test is over?”
That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”
You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.
“You have work today?”
Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.
Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.
“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”
You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”
The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.
“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.
The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.
“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.
“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.
“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.
Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.
Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.
“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”
“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”
Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.
Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.
He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.
You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.
He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.
When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.
Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.
He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.
“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.
He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.
“Besides what?”
You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.
Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.
“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.
“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.
“You know what.”
“I want you to go.”
“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”
————
The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.
Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.
She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.
Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”
You and Billy.
You and Billy Hargrove.
Sharing a room.
Sharing a bed.
Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.
“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.
“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”
That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”
You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?
“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”
He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”
He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.
“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”
You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.
“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”
You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.
“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.
You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”
Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.
“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”
You nod your head, and try to move back from him.
Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”
You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.
“Really?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.
“Yeah, baby.”
Baby.
It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.
And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.
“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”
“Mhm. Thought so.”
This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.
“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.
When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.
You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.
You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.
Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.
“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.
————
Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.
“Right hand blue.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”
Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.
“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”
“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.
He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.
Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.
He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”
“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”
“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.
“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”
You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.
“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.
You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”
Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.
The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.
It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.
————
You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.
You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.
He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.
When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.
You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.
He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.
“C’mere then.”
You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”
“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”
“Billy.”
“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.
Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.
He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”
“Yeah.”
Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”
“Yes.”
He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.
Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.
He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.
“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”
You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.
“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.
“You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.
It’s just me.
“Do they hurt at all?”
Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.
“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”
You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.
He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.
“Goodnight, Billy.”
He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.
“Goodnight, baby.”
————
When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.
Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.
You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.
Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.
Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.
You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.
“Sleep okay?” she asks.
“Mhm. You?”
“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”
You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.
“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”
You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”
“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”
You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”
“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.
“Oh my god.”
“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”
“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”
“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.
“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”
Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”
He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.
“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”
————
Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.
It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.
It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.
You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.
“Whatcha doin’?”
Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm.”
“I can go back inside, if you want.”
Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.
“Okay.”
He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.
“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”
“I understand, Billy.”
You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.
“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.
“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”
He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.
Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.
When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.
He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.
“You motherfucker!”
You get him back, and he’s laughing.
Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.
You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.
“Billy!”
“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.
You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.
When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.
“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”
You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.
He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.
He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.
Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.
It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.
When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.
Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“I know,” you respond.
He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.
“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”
“Damn right you are.”
You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.
“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.
“So much for that,” Billy says.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
————
“I’m regretting this, Billy.”
“Stop whining.”
Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.
“Get off.”
“No.”
“Get off, please.”
“Make me.”
There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.
He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”
And you’d do it again.
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Shut up and take it.”
By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.
You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.
He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.
He’s never had this before.
Hell, you’ve never had this before.
And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.
You’re healing him. You.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
#savannah’s fics#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x gn!reader#billy hargrove x gender neutral reader#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove comfort#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fanfiction#max mayfield#steve harrington#robin buckley#lucas sinclair#dustin henderson#will byers#billy stranger things fic#billy stranger things#bookshelf-dust’s 1k celebration
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Painted Basketballs (Billy Hargrove)
Summary: you panic at the thought of talking to Billy.
Warnings: fluff, billy's nice :), shy reader
WC: 1.3K
Read on ao3!
Request: Billy Hargrove idea: Reader is a new girl from out of State; shy, reserved, and a little nerdy. She watches the basketball practice and draws the scene and wants to give it to Billy... as she waits outside of the boy's locker room showers, she calls out to him and then starts to get a panic attack from nerves, and he reacts to her. Steve, Eddie, and Tommy H make appearances. @fandom-princess-forevermore
--
You were never the type to make a scene. In fact, you preferred to blend into the background, fading into the quiet corners of the world where no one would notice your existence. Moving to Hawkins from out of state had been a whirlwind of adjustment—new school, new people, a new everything. So, naturally, you took to the sidelines.
It wasn't that you didn't want to make friends or fit in—it was just... hard. You were shy, reserved, and admittedly a little nerdy. That combination didn't exactly make you the most popular girl in school. But you found your own way of navigating this small, quirky town. Art, for one. Your sketchbook became your best companion. You carried it everywhere, always ready to capture something interesting, something beautiful, something that made you feel like you belonged in this unfamiliar place.
That’s how you found yourself outside the gym one late afternoon, watching the boys’ basketball practice through the windows. You had been drawn to it, not for the game itself, but for the motion—the intensity of their movements, the way they worked as a team, the way their bodies twisted and turned with so much raw energy. You couldn’t help but be captivated by the scene.
And so you had your sketchbook, perched on the low wall outside, pencil moving with practiced ease over the paper, capturing the fast-paced action. The light spilling through the windows, the sweat glistening on their bodies, the determined looks on their faces—it was all so real, so vivid. But one figure in particular caught your attention.
Billy Hargrove.
There was something about him—the way he moved with a certain effortless confidence, the way his cocky smirk never seemed to leave his face, even when he was in the middle of the game. He was different from the other guys, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe when he was around. He was the kind of guy who commanded attention, even if he wasn’t trying.
You focused on him, the tip of your pencil gently shading in the muscles of his arms as he caught the basketball mid-air, ready to make a play. Your hand moved without thinking, lost in the rhythm of the moment, as you added little details to the picture—his hair, messy with sweat, his narrowed eyes, and the confident way he held himself.
The bell rang, signaling the end of practice. You hurried to finish your drawing, heart beating a little faster at the thought of giving it to him. It wasn’t a big deal. Just a drawing. You were sure it would go unnoticed, or worse, mocked. But you couldn’t stop the feeling—the desire to do something bold, something outside of your usual comfort zone.
And so, you waited.
The basketball players made their way toward the locker room, chatting loudly as they disappeared into the building. You stood outside, tapping your fingers nervously on your sketchbook. You had no idea what to say when Billy came out. Would he laugh at your drawing? Would he even look at it? Would he think you were a total freak?
But you told yourself that it didn’t matter. You were going to do this.
The minutes dragged on as you waited, your palms sweating. You finally heard the sound of the locker room door opening, the voices of the guys drifting out into the hallway. You stood straighter, trying to act normal, but your heart was pounding in your chest.
You saw him before he saw you. Billy, still in his practice clothes, towel slung over his shoulder, looking every bit the image of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. You swallowed thickly, gathering the last of your courage.
“Billy!” you called out, your voice small but loud enough to catch his attention.
He turned, raising an eyebrow as his eyes locked onto yours. You stood there, holding the sketchbook to your chest like a shield, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.
“Hey,” Billy said, his voice low, the same smirk on his face, though it looked more amused now. He took a step closer, running a hand through his damp hair. “What’s up, new girl?”
You felt a knot of nerves twist in your stomach. You wanted to say something witty, something that would make you seem confident, but all you could manage was a small, shaky breath.
“I—uh, I drew this,” you stammered, holding out the sketchbook. “I... thought you might like it.”
Billy’s gaze flicked down to the book, his eyebrow raising again as he glanced from your face to the drawing. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he studied the page, his silence making your anxiety skyrocket.
Suddenly, the world felt too tight. Your breath started coming in shallow bursts, your vision blurring as the edges of the world seemed to fade away. You could feel the panic building, your chest tightening, the weight of your own nerves too much to handle.
You were having a panic attack.
Your hands were trembling, and the sketchbook felt heavy in your grasp. You wanted to put it down, to run away and disappear. You tried to steady yourself, but the room was spinning, your body feeling disconnected from your mind.
“Hey, hey, you okay?”
Billy’s voice broke through the fog in your head. You barely registered him taking a step closer, his expression suddenly changing from amusement to concern.
“I—I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m just... sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Before you could finish, Billy’s hand reached out, gently touching your arm, grounding you.
“You’re not fine,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Take a deep breath. Just focus on me, okay?”
You nodded weakly, trying to do what he said, but it felt so hard.
Then, out of nowhere, Steve Harrington appeared, walking up behind Billy, his brows furrowing when he noticed the tension.
“Everything alright here, man?” Steve asked, his voice casual but concerned, as if he sensed something was off.
Eddie Munson, trailing behind Steve and Tommy H., noticed too. “Whoa, is she okay?” Eddie asked, eyeing you with a mixture of confusion and concern.
Billy gave them a quick glance, then turned back to you, his hand still on your arm. “She’s just having a rough moment. Give her some space.”
Steve stepped forward, eyeing Billy for a second before his gaze softened. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine. We got you, alright?”
You nodded, struggling to focus on their reassuring voices. With each word, it felt like the panic was slowly starting to ease, the fog lifting from your mind.
Billy gave you a small smile, his usual bravado replaced with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. “It’s alright, new girl. You’re good. Just breathe with me.”
And somehow, you did.
When the panic finally passed, you exhaled shakily, feeling the relief wash over you. Billy’s hand was still lightly gripping your arm, though he had let go once he saw you were steady.
“Thanks,” you whispered, still feeling a bit shaky but mostly calm.
Billy smirked, his usual cocky attitude slipping back into place. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly used to comforting people. But you’re okay now, right?”
You nodded again, feeling embarrassed but grateful.
“I, uh... I meant it, though,” you said, lifting the sketchbook up again. “The drawing, I mean. I—well, I wanted you to have it.”
Billy took it from you, his eyes briefly flicking over the page again. “I’ll keep it,” he said, a genuine smile tugging at his lips now. “Maybe you should draw me again sometime. When you’re feeling... better.”
You smiled faintly, a wave of warmth flooding through you. Maybe being the “new girl” wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, you’d find a place for yourself here.
And Billy Hargrove? Maybe he wasn’t as unreachable as he seemed.
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— NEED THEM BIBLICALLY ୨୧
#⠀ ⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢ ꒱ . ⌢#⊹ 𓈒ׂ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ࣪ 𓈒ׂ ⭒ ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙��ᐧ.˳˳.⋅#imagines#x reader#billy hargrove#eddie munson#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#stranger things x you#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x reader#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington imagine#harringrove#steddie#need em
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Steve Harrington is a simple guy. Has a simple life, still dreaming of perhaps being so lucky as to meet his one and only .. some day. He has left the town of Hawkins and moved to California, closer to vast waters, a different scent in the air.
Steve works as a photographer for an advertising company - who knew? Well, it's a job, and he's good at it.
Today they're having a photoshoot for Speedo Swimwear, and the day promises to be busy.
The camera falls out of Steve's hands, and he thinks he's having a sunstroke
There's a tombstone with Billy Hargrove's name carved into it, back in Hawkins.
This can't be happening.
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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.
#billy hargrove#billy#stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove angst#stranger things angst#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove blurb#dacre montgomery#keeryhours writes#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove one shot#billy hargrove x fem! reader#billy stranger things#stranger things x reader#billy hargrove x y/n#stranger things imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader
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May I please get the boys reactions to you accidentally leaving your panties in their room/bed?
Before I start let me just say all three would malfunction for a minute or two before taking action 🤭 and I took this as a Friends to lovers type of thing
Eddie:
Holy shit Holy shit Holy shit
Good going you broke the poor man!
He picks them up gently as if he will break them or they will attack him
AND IF THEY WERE HIS FAVORITE COLOR!?!?!?!
Instantly hard
Doesn't know if this is you making a move or you just being forgetful
Snaps out of it and calls you to come over and retrive what your missing
Decides to finally make his move that night ;)
Billy:
Gets cocky
Thinks you left them for him on purpose
Will pocket them and head to his car to pay you a visit
"Missing something princess?" He asks with a smirk, showing you your panties. His smirk only grows seeing how flustered you get
This will led to your bedroom and you never do get those panties back
"Who gives back a present? That's just rude princess"
Steve:
At first isn't too phased until he really realizes what they are
Ugh more laundry
Turns bright red when he realizes they are your panties. OMG THEY ARE YOUR PANTIES!?!?!
Why did they leave their panties?!?! Why are they in my bed???
Tries to calm down before figuring out what to do with them. Does he give them back? Does he keep them? Does he wash them and wait for movie night to give them back???
Will have a heart attack and just die from how much he's blushing
Honestly might call Robin to get advice. "Do I go over there? Do I return them? Does this mean she's into me? What...Yes they are pretty panties can we focus here!?!?"
#the boys#the three boys#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things imagine#steve harrington#stranger things x reader#eddie munson imagines#billy stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove stranger things#billy hargrove imagine#smut??? maybe#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington imagine
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The Player and The Cheerleader
Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader Reader
Summary: All Billy thinks cheerleading is that's it's just flips and splits. The view changes when he has a run in with a certain Hawkins High School cheerleader.
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Billy didn't care for anyone by any means. Either it be in Indiana or California. If he doesn't see you as someone worth his time then he didn't talk to you or give you the time of day. One of those groups in specific were cheerleaders. From his point of view they were only pretty girls to look at, that's pretty much how everyone treated the cheerleader at this point. Pretty things to look at.
The cheerleaders sometimes had to share the gym with the basketball team. Which did peeve some the guys on the team but as long as the cheerleaders were pretty they could handle it. But there was one odd ball on the cheer team, the captain. Always mouthing off the players when they got to close to the cheerleaders or a ball got to close to hitting one of them.
"Hey! Shit for brains!" A voice can be heard from then other side of the gym. "I thought the point of the game was to get the ball in the basket?!"
"Jeezu..." Tommy huffed. "Can you seriously be pissed about the same thing every time? It's just a ball." He answered to you. Clearly tired of your constant shouting at the basketball team when a ball would go the wrong way.
"And it's just balls between your legs, and they can just as easily deflate." You sassed back. To Billy, it was almost comical to watch. You with the tough guy act, puffing up your chest to a dude way taller than you with colorful pompoms in each hand on your hips.
"What a bitch..." Tommy huffed again.
"Oh get over it." Billy snapped. "What's captain pompoms gonna do?" He laughed at his own statement. Like said before he found the whole conversation comical-
WHAM!
A basketball went flying right into Billy Hargroves head. He snapped his head around to see the who had the nerve to hit him. His eyes met with captain pompoms. The two had a stare off. That's what it felt like for the rest of practice. The two practically eyeing each other the entire time.
After that stunt was over, after constant staring at one another, Billy had only one reaction in mind. A big one.
The next day followed. Billy knew where he could cut you off and corner you, in-between Mr. Johnson's chemistry class and Mrs. Shoffer's English literature class. It happened fast no one could react to it, actually you doubt anyone saw it happen. What you thought was just another normal day of school turned out to be more than that. A harsh hold took your arm, taking you away from the crowd into the more secluded part of the hall. Where you came face to face with a fuming Billy. His jaw was clenched and eyes held anger.
"What, you think you're real funny for the shit you pulled yesterday?" He interrogated. "Try it again see what fuckin happens..." His threats did not stop. Well his empty threats. As much as you are terrified of what he could do, you knew he'd never act on them. Your brave front was standing strong. Taking in every threat, comment, and remark he could throw at you. To get a reaction, if you were a guy you would have answered with your fists at his first remark. But you are not. You are you. You knew the exact thing that would make him even more angry.
" You are nothing but scuff on the gym floor, and that's all you will be."
Billy did not like that one bit. Who does this bitch think she is? His fist rose into the air, readying to strike. The force came down, you felt the air brush past your face, to only make contact with a metal locker. The sound ricocheted through the hall.
You open up your eyes. Now, again, staring at him. Anger was not held in his eyes anymore. If was fear and sadness, to you it was peculiar expression to see on his face. The actions that just happened finally caught up to you, you inhale deeply not knowing you stopped breathing. Everything caught up to you.
SLAP! Your hand came down, striking Billy Hargrove in the face. Hard enough to leave a mark. Not knowing that one had just been healed from another hand. "What the hell is your problem?" You yelled, agitated. "God, you fuckin creep." You make your way back to your class leaving Billy stunned. He didn't know what to do. He has never had someone react to him like that before. It intrigued him. He had an interest in you now.
After that encounter Billy made it his mission yo agitate you as much as possible. I mean, how else are you supposed to show someone you like them. From poking you with a pencil in class, purposefully missing the hoop so the ball bounces into your direction, anything at all just so you could look at him. He was succeeding and he was royally pissing you off. Until on fateful autumn day, everyone had gone home for the day. Except for the extracurriculars that took place after school. Two of those being basketball and cheer practice. Just as the practices were about to start, Billy took notice that you weren't with the cheer team. Which he thought was odd, but instead he chose to go smoke a cigarette before practice. He made his way to the small alley like way that was outside the gym that lead to the track field. And the sight before him made him stop in his tracks. there you stood cheer practice outfit and all with a lit cigarette hanging from your lip.
"I thought cheerleaders didn't smoke?" Billy joked to you, giving you his famous smirk.
"And I thought shit stayed in toilets, but I guess I was wrong since you're here." You said taking a huff of your cig.
"Damn, always ready with a comeback are you?" Billy said, lighting his cigarette.
"Why are you messing with me Hargrove?"
"Ouch, last name basis now sweets?"
"Shut up." You won't deny it, that dumb nickname that he started calling you grew on you. "Is this because of me smacking you?"
"No."
"Was it me hitting you with a basketball?"
"No." He said blankly again.
"Then what is it?"
Billy took a huff of his cigarette then looked you in your eyes. No hate or anger, something you can only describe as adoration.
"I find you interesting." Was his only answer.
"What?" you were confused by this answer. What was so interesting about you that made Billy intrigued. " Your like curious about me or something?"
"Exactly."
"You know curiosity killed the cat, Hargrove." You sassed.
"And satisfaction brought it back, and I am not satisfied yet so get used to me sweets." He said taking his cig a stomping it out onto the ground walking away.
You grumbled at his response, inhaling the last of your cigarette with blushing cheeks. Stomping out your cigarette then making your way into practice. 'Why does this asswipe make me blush'.
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Weeks of this teasing have gone by. Everyday Billy would find a new way to make you mad, blush, or embarrassed to get a reaction out of you. He claimed "It's because you so cute." Which made you blush even more. Gosh, you couldn't stand half of the guys at this school. Why was Billy the only one making you feel this way?
Truth be told, Billy had seen you around way before he had met you. How you walk down the hall with your head held high, looking away in disgust at the "popular" kids, over all not conforming to what a cheerleader is by Hawkins view point. You fought, yelled, got in people faces. Billy love all of it, it made him excited. Excited to talk to you and ask you questions, even ones you deem are stupid. All he wanted to do was to be around you. Damn, he loved it in a way.
Practice had ended for the day leading off into the weekend. A light rain pour had come down, everyone else had a ride to get them home. Everyone except you, well you did but he was running very late. Billy made his way outside to find you standing in the walk way waiting to be picked up. Cigarette hanging from your mouth.
"What are you doing here?" Billy asked.
"Waiting." You simply put.
"Do you want a ride?" He asked.
"No, I have a ride." You said. "But he's running late."
"What your boyfriend?" Billy said, the words had jealousy behind them.
"No." You sighed. "My brother you dipshit."
"oh..." He sighed. A silence fell between you two. Not uncomfortable, but nice enough for you two to be around each other. But Billy had something building in his stomach, a nervous feeling. He hated it. He needed to tell you something.
"Hey." He called to you, you turn your head to face him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened."
"What?" You were confused by what he just said.
"I said I'm sorry, did you not hear me?" Billy said, He turned his body to face you. "I said I'm sorry." You just stood there silent. Still taking in the fact he is saying sorry. "I'm sorry that I almost punched you into a locker. I realized I was acting like someone I didn't want to be, and you calling me on my shit. It made me look at you differently. I noticed more about you. How you always make sure the other cheerleaders are okay, how you genuinely care about the people you have around you, and you don't take any shit. And- shit I'm bad at this." He's now embarrassed by everything he just said. Heat rises to his cheeks and ears.
You step toward him, placing your hand on his arm. "I thought you were doing pretty well." You smiled, comforting him in a way. He just looked at you. You never smiled at him directly but now that your smile was intended for him. 'damn' He wants you to smile at him all the time.
"Do you want to go on a date?" He asked straight out. You were shocked by his forwardness, but not entirely surprised.
"You want to go on a date with me?"
"Hell yeah, why wouldn't I?" He made it seem like you were speaking a different language. "Listen one date is all I ask, her if you still think I'm a piece of shit I'll stop everything that I'm doing."
Your smile grew even wider. "I would love to go on a date with you Billy."
"Dang, back on first name basis already? Looks like I'm getting a second date already." He joked to you, in turn caused you to laugh.
For the remainder of your time you and Billy talked till you had been picked up. You both talked about anything and everything. It was pure bliss, you loved every second of it. You both were abruptly interrupted by the honking of your brothers car.mYou said your goodbyes to make your way to the car. The smile that held your face did not drop. I didn't drop on Billy's either, when getting home Max found it incredibly disturbing to see her step brother so giddy.
That following night Billy arrived to your house to take you on your promised date. Which one date turned into another and another and another. Till it reached throughout the whole school that Billy Hargrove and the cheer captain were finally official. With many guys questioning Billy as to why he picked you out of everyone, to which he said if they insulted you again he had no problem with dealing with them himself. Girls just snuffed their noses up to you since you now made Billy officially off the market. Not like you cared, he's your boyfriend now and you have him all to yourself. So you could say everything did work out in the end. You and Billy have each other.
"So I guess we have Tommy to thank since he is the reason we met?" You joked.
"Hell no, I would have went after you even if you didn't hit me with that basket ball." He smirk.
"Jeez, you are something Billy." You smiled, leaning into him to seal your lips in a kiss. Yeah, nothing could beat this.
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#billy hargrove#stranger things#fanfiction#steve harrington#billy hargove imagine#billy hargrove x fem reader#gn reader#billy hargrove x gn!reader#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove x female#billy hargrove fluff#enemies to lovers#cheerleader#chrissy cunningham#stranger things billy#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fanfiction#max mayfield#robin buckley#eddie munson
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Time traveler Steve is determined to find his boyfriend in every lifetime
#harringrove#if billy ends up dying in every lifetime and steve trying to rescue him in every lifetime#he breaks down a bit more every time he fails saving billy but when he finally did he just burst into tears#they got married and got their happily ever after and all that#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#incorrect harringrove quotes#harringrove au#billy hargrove x steve harrington#harringroveera#harringrove textpost#harringrove edit#harringrove headcanon#harringrove imagine#incorrect billy hargrove quotes#steve x billy#steve harrington x billy hargrove#incorrect steve harrington#steve harrington meme#billy hargrove meme#harringrove meme
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Cold Spring Harbor
Chapter One - She’s Got A Way 🎶
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, instant attraction, invisible string theory, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, coping mechanisms
Summary: Just when Steve figures he’s bound to be alone the rest of his life, somehow he finds you, and for some reason just being near you makes him feel much less alone in the world.
word count: 2k
→ Two
Masterlist
Spring 1985
She's got a way of showin', how I make her feel
Steve hated being sad. Yet for the last six months that was all he had felt. He should be over it by now. He wished he was over it, but everyday he went to school just to see Nancy with Johnathon and know everything that he lost. He had given up his friends for her, and when she gave him up for Johnathon, he had no one left. No happy family to come home to, and no friends to spend time with, especially no girlfriend to love. Maybe that was why it was so hard to get over her, because she was the only person he had left and she left him too.
So he woke up on the first day of spring break, no parents, no plans, no one at all. It didn’t matter that the first warm sun was shining through his window and the birds chirped happily outside. He figured he would always be alone and he was still just as miserable as before. The only person he did have was Dustin but how many times can you ask a middle schooler to hang out before it gets weird? Steve didn’t want to find out.
He wasn’t going to last all of spring break like this so he was going to do the only thing that made him feel better. The only thing that gave him enough motivation to get out of bed and get ready for the day. So it’s not long until he is walking out the front door and towards his car. Yet before he unlocked it he stopped, eyes glancing into the bright blue sky, and deciding against the drive. It was sunny and almost seventy, plus a walk would be good for him. So he stuffed the keys back in his pocket and started down the road.
Town was half empty once he got there, signs showing that the new mall being built was already taking away business. It was sad to see the town that once was so busy become a shell of nothing. Kind of like him he supposed. Yet the sight of the familiar blue door eased his mind as he pushed in the one place he hoped would be here forever.
“Hey man, long time no see” Ron, the owner smiles from behind the register. Steve matches the smile right back even though he doesn’t feel it. He wished he did.
“Hey Ron, how’s business been?” he asks, eyeing the various shelves throughout the room.
“I wish I could say busy, but ever since word got out that Sam Goody was being built in the mall, no one really cares about Ron’s Records anymore” he says and Steve nods, his throat tightening at the thought.
“I’m sorry about that man, you know I’ll be a customer for life” he tells him and Ron nods, smiling at the boys kindness.
“You and your Grandpa both” Ron says kindly and Steve has to look away before tears form in his eyes.
“I’m gonna check some records out” Steve tells him and Ron nods as he moves to the section he knows it will be at.
Finally reaching the B’s his fingers start skimming the records. It feels like he’s passed a hundred Barry Manilow records by the time he reaches exactly what he’s looking for. Smiling to himself he scans which ones are there, determined what would be the best to listen to. Something that for an entire forty minutes could make him feel much less lonely in this world.
“Billy Joel huh?” Steve looks up and nearly freezes. There you are, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and something about the world stops. He’s not one to be shy but it’s as if the words somehow can’t leave his mouth. There was just something about you. “Since when do boys your age listen to Billy Joel?”
“Hey, he’s still rock n’ roll to me” Steve defends, and it’s cheesy. He knows that, but it doesn’t stop you from laughing. You’re wearing the most perfect smile he’s ever seen and he wants to make you do it again.
“I’m not saying he isn’t, just most guys these days don’t know good music anymore” you say, pulling the record out of his hands and he almost gasps at the way your fingers feel against his.
“Well good music to me is just Billy, always has been” he says and you give him a small nod, smile still on your face. He briefly wonders what it could be about you that makes him suddenly so content.
“Cold Spring Harbor? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it” you say and Steve’s heart clenches.
“It’s his first album, he was only 22 when he wrote it. It’s one of my favorites” Steve tells you and the mischievous grin you give him makes his heart stutter in his chest.
“Well let’s listen to it” you tell him, hand grabbing his own, and leading him to the front of the building. In the front window there’s two chairs and small record player in between. They had been there for as long as Steve could remember, he had sat in them hundreds of times. He sits in his, the one chair he always sat in, and you sit, well in the other. His throat dries as he sees you sit across from him in the chair that had been empty for many years.
“What’s your favorite track?” you muse, hands delicately working to pull the record from its sleeve and place it on the player.
"The first one, She's Got A Way. It was my Grandpa's favorite, the first Billy song he ever played me" Steve says, looking off onto the rows and rows of records. Remembering a time when he was just short enough to be the same height as them. Rushing around and looking for the most colorful covers while his Grandpa went straight to the B's. Then he'd sit in the very chair he was now, ankles just barely hanging over the edge as his Grandpa played him song after song, in the very seat you were sitting in now.
"So that's where it comes from" you muse, the record spinning as you turn on the machine. Steve watches as you set the needle on the record, sratching till it finds its groove, and fills the silence between you both.
"Why is it his favorite?" you ask after a few moments, watching the boy as he let's the words sink in.
"He claimed it was the only song he ever heard that perfectly described how he felt about my Grandmother. How the right women could completley turn you around and heal you when you least expect it" Steve smiles fondly as he repeats those words he hadn't in a very long time.
"A charmer, I'm sure you are too" you say and the shocked look Steve wears has you laughing lightly. It takes Steve only a second to laugh along with you, realizing just how quickly you had revealed him. It's when your laughter calms he realizes the smile on your face has eased his heart more in the last six months than anything else.
"If you must know" Steve says and you giggle again which has Steve wanting to spend more and more time with you.
"Where is this Grandpa of yours, I have a few questions for him?" you ask and Steve freezes, not expecting the words to leave your mouth. It takes him a moment to respond and you sense the discomfort and place your hand on his own. Steve nearly jumps at the electric touch that comes from it.
"He passed away when I was fifteen, right before high school" he tells you, throat tightening around the admittance.
"I'm so sorry, that's awful" you try to comfort but Steve just smiles.
"You would have loved him though. Everyone did. He was my best friend, the only family I really had that spent time with me. Since my Grandma passed when I was ten, me and him made sure to spend all of middle school together" Steve isn't entirely sure why he is telling you this, he just knows your the first person he has been this comfortable around since his Grandpa and he didn't even know your name yet. He didn’t know what it was about you but he figured there didn't need to be a reason.
"That's so sweet, he sounds so special" you tell him and Steve nods, recalling memories he hadn't allowed himself to think about for years.
"He was, just wish he was still around. He was the only person to ever be there for me, front row at every swim meet and basketball game. Was hard going through highschool knowing he was no longer in the stands, but Billy. Well that's all me and him ever talked about. So sometimes, on days like today when I miss him a little extra, I find him in the lyrics of a song" and your heart soars for the boy in front of you. A boy with a deep sadness buried within him. A boy the world hadn't given a chance yet.
"Is he there right now?" you can't help but ask, the last few lines of the song coming through the speakers on the machine. Steve listens, can practically see his Grandpa yelling at him for not making a move. ‘At least ask her name’ he groans and Steve chuckles lightly to himself.
"Yeah he's here. He always is" Steve says and you give him a smile that somehow heals him. "I'm Steve by the way"
"Nice to meet you Steve" you tell him before offering your own name and Steve finds it rattling through his head, the most beautiful name in all of existence, and somehow it belongs to you. The very girl who showed up while he was feeling down and has inspired him without a sound. The beginning notes of You Can Make Me Free fill the silence between you both and Steve sits up, realizing your hand is still atop his own.
"Sorry for spilling my guts" Steve says and you shake your head, wanting him to know that he had done nothing wrong this entire time.
"Don't be, it actually happens a lot. I seem to make people very comfortable. Guess I just got a way about me" and Steve agrees because somehow in just this short exchange you have inspired him to keep on going, reminded him that this is not the end and it won't be all bad. It is like you have some bright light around you and it gives him the strength to keep going.
"Would you maybe want to go get something to eat?" Steve finds the confidence to ask and you beam a smile brightly back at him.
"I'd love to Steve" you tell him, using his name like it now somehow belongs to you and Steve wishes it does. A million dreams of love surrounding you and for the first time since Nancy he finds himself feeling something for a girl he never thought he'd feel again. He just knows he no longer wants to live without you.
"Have fun you two" Ron calls out as you both exit, the record still playing as you both leave it behind. You talk the whole way to the small diner in town, Steve just smiles and listens, loving how everything sounds the way it comes out your mouth. It's as if every word lifts him up as you are walking.
For the rest of the day Steve does his part getting to know you. Making you laugh and flirting where necessary which never fails to make you blush. The sight of your red cheeks alone make his heart soar for you. It's cute the way you show it, exactly how you feel about him. In return you do find yourself charmed by the very boy you couldn’t resist talking to. You wondered where a sweet boy like him had been your whole life and for the first time you aren't as embarassed by the blush on your cheeks as you normally would be.
"I really like you Rosy" he says matter of fact, the nickname falling easily from his lips. You blush at his words again, shaking your head at the boy you figure you aren't getting rid of anytime soon.
"I like you too Steve"
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#steve harrington series#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington#steve stranger things#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x femreader#joe keery fanfiction#joe keery fic#joe keery steve harrington#joe keery x reader#joe keery imagines#joe keery stranger things#joe keery imagine#joe keery#joe keery series#joe keery smut#stranger things s5#stranger things imagine#billy joel
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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...
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 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 him forever.
As you leave the car, the cold rain immediately envelopes you, sending shivers down your spine. The rain soaks through your clothes as you navigate 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.
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