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She's A Runner - Part Eight
summary your relationship with billy has taken its largest step by far but in the grander scheme of things, that never seems to mean much. he leaves far too quickly after your first night together leaving you questioning his intentions. and now he's got questions about yours as well. in a last-ditch effort billy brings you over to his house to iron things out, but things go awry. will things ever go well for the two of you? or are you just as star-crossed as those teens shakespeare wrote about?
warnings references to past sexual assault, chronic abuse/homelife situation, cursing, trauma response behavior, angst, relationship drama, smut, fluff, problematic parents, whump, hurt/comfort
word count 5,309
note this one has been in drafts for quite some time but i hadn't been able to get it out until now due to my schedule and the school year. hope you guys enjoy it! Inspired by Billy Squier’s She’s A Runner
Part Six / Part Seven
As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Billy didn't stay long, leaving shortly after you both had gotten dressed. He kissed you briefly before walking out the door with a fresh cigarette twirling between his fingers.
You slept poorly that night, tossing and turning before admitting defeat, your eyes glowering at the ceiling.
He left so fast... was that all he wanted? Is that all this is?
You groaned, knocking yourself thickly on the forehead with a fist. You shouldn't think like that.
"He's a man... that's all they ever want! They only ever want one thing!" Your mother's voice rang through your head.
What else are damaged goods, good for?
The thought sat bitterly at the front of your mind as you rolled to the other side of the mattress, roughly kneading the lump in your pillow.
He's gonna leave you. You're damaged. Unfixable. Used. Disgusting. ... Worthless.
When you arrived at school that morning, a lump formed in your throat when you saw Billy's car. It was stupid, really. You felt foolish but kept driving and parked by Allison Krupp's Volkswagen. How were you going to face him in class?
Entering the building, you headed to your locker hoping that Billy would be elsewhere.
"Hey," a familiar voice sounded, startling you, the book dropping from your hands. You whipped around to face him, your voice tense. "Hey... morning."
Billy looked at you suspiciously and then at the book on the floor. "You ok?" he asked, leaning down and getting it for you.
You nodded strongly, "Yeah, I'm good."
He wasn't convinced, his hand lingering over yours as he handed the book over. "You sure?" he pressed.
You took your book, placing it in your backpack, and shouldering it. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" you lied, a half-hearted smile creasing your lips.
He was about to answer when the bell rang. A wave of relief rushing through your features.
"Class," you stated dumbly, pointing at the ceiling before turning on your heels and walking away quickly. Billy stood a moment in the hall watching you, his brow wrinkling in worry before he followed you into the classroom.
Settling into your seats, you could feel his eyes on you, making you shiver. You pulled out your notebook, loudly flipping through the pages, attempting to distract yourself.
The whole period he kept looking over, with you catching him turning his head out of the corner of your eye. You didn't want to look at him. Didn't want him to read you like the ridiculous open book that you were. Your face would betray you if he caught you.
And you weren't ready for that.
Today was going to end badly, you were certain of it. But you would be damned if you helped yourself to that conclusion any faster than necessary.
The period bell rang and you skittered away, ignoring his calls after you.
"Y/N, hey! Where're you going!?"
The rest of the day was no better. You had barely started eating when Billy began walking toward you in the cafeteria at lunchtime. You panicked, picked up your tray, and prematurely dumped it before running to hide in the girl's bathroom.
He's gonna do it. You're such an idiot. He's gonna leave you.
When Chemistry finally came around, he caught you, seating himself in the lab chair next to yours. You peeked over at him but said nothing. You were boxed in. He finally had you.
"Wanna tell me what's going on?" he sniffed in irritation as you looked straight ahead. "Nothing." you lied quickly.
Sarah Lindsor waved at you as she came through the door, maybe she'd save you? Grabbing your bag, you rose from your seat to join her, but a hand wrapped around your wrist, locking you in place.
You looked back at him testily, before sinking back down into your chair. He leaned in, speaking barely above a whisper. "You're jerking me around, and I'm gonna find out why," he growled low, his hand dropping its hold on you.
You shivered, pulling your hand back into your lap. "You already know why..." you muttered under your breath as Ms. Decker began taking role.
It was suddenly becoming too much for you. The inevitable was right beside you and waiting. You couldn't take it any longer and snatched up your backpack, running from the room. The other students mumbled in disbelief looking at Billy suspiciously.
"Billy, what did you say to her?" Ms. Decker chastised him. He quickly followed you out the door, ignoring the teacher's call, "Billy, get back here!"
You hastily tossed open your locker and shoved what you needed into your backpack, peering around the metal door. Billy was watching you with keen eyes as he stomped down the hall towards you.
"I don't wanna talk about it," you warned, voice fracturing. "About what?" Billy pushed, his temper beginning to surface. He was close on your heels as you slammed your locker closed and tried to break for the school exits.
You had barely squeezed yourself through the first set of doors into the breezeway before he stopped you, wrapping you up in his arms. "Y/N stop running!" he huffed aggressively, his breath starting to shorten with all the games you'd been playing.
You froze in his arms, unable to fight, your brain too slow to process.
Run you, idiot! He's gonna do it! He's gonna say it! Fucking run!
You nearly buckled, your shoulders heaving as you began to sob in his hold. Tears poured from your eyes, as the weight of the day's stress finally surged through you; the levies failing. "It's over isn't it?"
Billy tensed up, "What?"
Flipping you over in his grasp, he turned you to face him, "What the hell're you talking about?" He asked, his voice thick with annoyance.
"It's over...!" you hiccuped, "That's what's going to happen, huh?" you sobbed.
Billy searched your face, "Are you fucking serious?" You couldn't tell if he was more hurt or angry with you at that moment.
"Because you left... and that's what happens," you reasoned, "it ends..."
"Jesus...," Billy moaned, "you're such an idiot sometimes," He shook you lightly by the arms, and you immediately snapped a glare up at him.
"Am not!" you retorted, fidgeting in his grasp, "You're gonna do it!" you accused him.
Billy rolled his eyes dramatically, letting go of you. He pushed passed you, walking out the school doors toward the parking lot. Pulling the cigarette carton from his jacket breast pocket, he tapped out one cancer stick and the lighter with it. Striking up, he took a deep inhale as you followed him out.
"I wasn't..." he stated, exhaling a thick plume of smoke. "Did you want me to?" He looked over at you with what seemed to be a brief specter of hesitation before quickly looking away.
You sniffled loudly, wiping your nose against the back of your sleeve, "No... but –!"
"Then I won't," he cut you short, walking towards the rows of cars. You exhaled fragilely, calm uneasily resettling over your frame as you followed behind him. "O-ok..." you reasoned, weakly. "I kinda overreacted, huh?"
Billy ignored the question as he unlocked the camaro, he was suddenly preoccupied with clearing out the backseat. Wondering if he was going to offer you a make-up session, he cut your thoughts short. "You should come over," he stated to the open air, taking another deep inhale, the taught irritation now waning from his voice.
"Really?" you brightened, a small smile growing on your lips. Billy nodded like it was nothing, tucking the cig between his lips as he rolled back his jacket sleeve to check the time, the end-of-day bell was ringing.
"Just come home with me," he added, nodding his head toward the camaro as you both watched your classmates pour out of the building.
"Billy I gotta get Petey home first..." you motioned towards your own car.
He rolled his eyes in annoyance, flipping the cuff of his jacket back over and fastening it. "Can't that brat walk?"
"Course he can," you said, folding your arms. "But the last time I made him walk, he ratted me out. I didn't hear the end of it for two whole months," you emphasized painfully.
He chewed on the filter in thought for a moment, "I'll pick you up then."
Coming to stand beside him, you wiped your eyes, the drying saline trails on your face beginning to itch. "Are you sure you don't just want to hang at mine? That's always easy," you offered.
"No," Billy shook his head, taking a deep drag, the cigarette growing short as he held up a new one to its dwindling embers for ignition. "B'sides. You're gonna need to get familiar with my bed at some point..." He looked over at you slyly, lips upturned with delight.
Your cheeks reddened, as the comment struck you. "Christ, Billy! It hasn't even been a week!" You gave him a light shove. Billy clicked his tongue with indifference, his shoulders shrugging off your weak assault. "So?"
You didn't have a good comeback, as you sheepishly rubbed your arm and dropped your eyes to your shoes. Billy chuckled triumphantly, "You wanna?" Your answer lodged itself in your throat as you looked up at him.
Max was zipping her way down the road toward the pair of you on her skateboard. Petey was not far off behind, some sort of bulky school project in his arms. You were sure you'd hear about it in just a few minutes' time. "Won't Max be home with you?" You asked bashfully.
Billy flicked his head with an uncaring shrug, "Maybe. She's been going with those loser friends of hers to the arcade a lot lately." Sliding a hand around your waist, he drew you in as each of your siblings approached. "You can always pretend she's not there..." he drawled, dipping his head down and kissing you.
"Gross!" Max and Petey spat in unison as they arrived.
You held the kiss two beats longer than it probably should have been, your stomach fluttering as he pulled away, blue eyes closely watching yours through heavy lashes. "I'll get you in half an hour," he concluded, kissing you once more to audible protests from both of your siblings.
"Y/N come on!" "Really Billy!?"
Parting ways, you drove home with Petey groaning all the way about the scars you had caused him. "My eyes! I'll never be able to unsee it!" he whined as you pulled into your driveway. You huffed, engaging the emergency brake and turning off the engine.
"For hell's sake Petey, will you give it a rest already? Not like I won't be suffering when you're sucking some girl's face off in another two years..." You moaned, the both of you getting out of the car.
Petey whipped his head around, a blush blooming across his freckled face. "That's never gonna happen!" he promised. "Yeah... right." you mused sarcastically, as you helped him pull the monstrosity of a box he brought home from the trunk of your car. The science fair was approaching, and Petey was going big on ambition this year.
Handing Petey your keys, you let him unlock the front door as you two brought everything inside. "Petes... what is all this stuff anyways?" you huffed, unloading the box onto the table, casually fishing a random cut of PVC pipe out. Your brother looked at you warily, "It's top secret..." he stated, snatching the plastic out of your hand. "Mr. Clarke is helping me. We're going to State this year," he concluded proudly as he arranged some of the disorganized pieces together.
"Uh... huh." You said with the blandest of interest. "Just don't let Mr. Clarke do all the heavy lifting." The doorbell rang before you could make an even snider comment, saving Petey's ego.
Opening the door, you smiled. Billy was casually waiting, leaning on the doorframe, an arm raised beside his head. "You ready?" he asked, charmingly. "Yeah," You nodded happily, calling over your shoulder, "Be back later, ok?!"
"Yeah, whatever," Petey dismissed loudly. Pulling the door behind you, you poked your head in one last time, before locking it. "Oh, and don't touch the Krazy Glue until I get back. Capiche?" You pointed a knowing finger at your brother. He threw his hands up in defeat, "Sheesh, alright! Leave already!"
Heading down the front steps, you headed for the camaro, Billy opening the passenger door for you. "What's your brother up to?" he asked casually, helping you into your seat. "It's some secret nerd scheme to get him to the State competitions of this year's science fair," you replied. Billy nodded, closing your door and coming around to his own.
"His solar-powered battery wasn't good enough last year to beat some girl from Terre Haute. So now he's out for blood..." you concluded, clicking your seatbelt. Billy laughed, "Is it really that serious?" You looked at him with mockingly wide eyes, "Are you questioning the importance of bragging rights and a huge-ass ribbon?" Billy chuckled, keying the ignition. "Really? Not even a cash prize?" You shook your head, "I think they might get a restaurant voucher or something... the real money's for the high schoolers. Scholarship stuff..."
Tossing an arm behind your headrest, he turned to look and backed down the driveway. Pausing to shift, Billy leaned in and stole a kiss.
The drive was short and sweet. Billy had a cassette in, the volume cranked high, and the windows rolled down as you made the five-block ride to his house. You had the sense he didn't want to talk, his grip on the steering wheel was tight.
Pulling in front of 4819 Cherry Lane, Billy killed the engine.
His gaze was fixed on the front door as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, lost in thought. "Is everything alright?" you asked, watching him curiously from your seat.
He looked over at you hesitantly, "Yeah, why?" he nodded, before getting out of the car. "I dunno," you reasoned, exiting and following him from the curb to the front porch.
His hands fumbled with the keys, trying to find the correct one as he cursed under his breath. The key stuck, unbudging in the keyhole, jamming up. Rocking back and forth on your heels, you busied yourself looking out at the hushed street, not wanting to breathe down his neck.
The deadbolt clicked out of place, a relieved mumble of "finally," leaving him as Billy opened the front door. Holding it wide for you, he stood aside. "Welcome to my hacienda..." he said in a sarcastic tone.
Stepping over the threshold, you smiled politely. "Thanks." Your eyes wandered over the simple furniture in the living room as he shut the door behind you. The room contained a large, grey corduroy sofa set against the left wall. Along the house's front wall was a pair of matching pink pinstriped armchairs, an end table in between them, and a cream-pink lamp on its top. The tropical-print curtains and the green-painted brick fireplace depicted the whole room as one large, clashing, still-life picture.
"Gimme a sec," Billy said, leaving you by the door as he walked off toward what appeared to be the dining room, disappearing. Reappearing briefly, he crossed from one end of the back room to the other, looking out the window. "Billy?" You called.
"Yeah." He answered, coming back through the house to you. "What?" He was acting strangely, his shoulders tense. His eyes weren't on you. They were unfocused, flitting from one part of the house to the next every few seconds.
Rubbing his hands up the lengths of your arms, he gave you a hard-pressed smile. "You wanna take off your jacket?" he asked. You arched an eyebrow, "Billy." He looked at you awkwardly, leaning in, he kissed your jaw. Trailing his lips across your cheek, he encased your lips with his.
"Bi-mmy!" you mumbled in protest. "Mhm?" Billy asked, slyness slipping into his tone. Your mind was blanking on what you were trying to ask.
"What? What is it?" Billy asked, nipping at your lower lip goading you. You whined as he pulled away, your eyelids heavy as your gaze locked on his. "I... Are you...?" Billy chuckled as you stumbled over your words.
Licking his lips, he watched your lust-blown expression. "You got it bad... Real bad," he teased you, thumb swiping across your lip as he cupped your face in his hand. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.
"You want me, Baby?" He asked, stroking your cheek. You nodded, breathing deep, as a shiver ran down your spine. You wanted him. All of him, that very second. "How bad?" he asked.
You looked up at him, blue eyes staring at yours. Watching. You didn't answer, already beginning to lose yourself. Billy's hand gripped you lightly by the cheeks, shaking you. "How badly, Baby?" He laughed, watching your eyes widen in surprise and resettle as you came back down to earth.
"Reawwy bad," you puffed out between pinched cheeks. Loosening his grip, his hand lowered off your face, lingering around your collarbone, his index and forefinger tickling at your skin. He eyed you up and down, pausing before locking eyes with you again.
"Wanna fuck me?" he flirted, lips parted in anticipation. You nodded thickly as Billy cocked an eyebrow. "Say it like y-" You cut him off, lunging and kissing him roughly. He responded, shoving you against the front door with a loud thud. His grip was fixed snugly around your neck as his other hand drew you in by the waist.
Your fingers dug into him, nails tugging harshly at his cotton-clad torso, making the threads creak. Billy groaned out a loud moan of appreciation. You wanted him and he knew it. It felt damn good to be wanted as his hand pulled you by the neck deeper into the kiss.
He was rutting against you, his hips grinding in evenly-paced undulations. Rising and falling. Opposite in rhythm to the hurried breaths between wrestled kisses, driving up the desire in both your bellies. His tongue bullied its way into your mouth, tasting every proclaimed whimper you had. His deft hands crawled beneath your shirt, exposing soft skin to the open air as he continued this assault. Your jaw was beginning to tire, but you weren't about to give up when you knew this was only the beginning.
"Billy?!"
The sound of a door opening near the back of the house brought everything to a screeching halt. Billy reflexively took his hands off you, immediately taking a full step back.
"Billy, where the hell are you?! Are you deaf?" The man's voice grew louder as he entered further into the house. Gruff and demanding.
You peered around Billy's shoulder, the man's shadow beginning to form across the wood floor.
"Dammit Billy, I know you're home!"
Billy shoved you back in front of him, blocking your view. "Just a minute!" Billy shouted. His posture was rigid, stiffer than a board. You were about to speak when he cut you off, his hand over your mouth. "Outside. I'll meet you at the car," he whispered harshly.
Stepping backward with you in his hold, Billy wrenched the front door open and pushed you out. "But -!" You protested. "Wait by the car!" He urged, before walking out of sight back into the house.
You hurried out to the camaro. You didn't like this. Something about the way Billy looked seemed off. The way he had been acting since he brought you over seemed odd. You really didn't like this. But Billy told you to wait, and you didn't want to make him mad.
So you waited.
And you waited.
You swore you'd been waiting ten minutes. The front door was ajar, but Billy still wasn't coming. This didn't feel right.
Looking around at the quiet neighborhood, you weighed your options.
He said wait by the car. I know, I know, I know! But something's wrong! I can feel it!
Stamping your foot, you made your decision.
Dammit, let him be mad at me.
Approaching the house, noises hit your ears. Three thuds and the muffled sound of an argument. You froze, a cold chill running down your spine. Something was wrong.
As you crept up the steps, the man's voice leeched out onto the porch. Your heart was pounding. Thundering so strongly that your skin was rippling with each rapid beat.
"Think you run this house? Huh?!" The man demanded. "Dad, I though-" Billy pled. He let out a choked yelp, falling quiet as he hit the floor.
Peering in, you pushed the door open, tears catching at the corners of your eyes.
Billy was crouched against the wall opposite the front door. He was attempting to pull in on himself, his arms covering his face. Above him, the man stood, belt clenched in his fist.
Your eyes widened in sheer panic as the man's arm drew back, belt raised high. You crossed the threshold without thinking.
"You never think Billy, you just do. Stupid things. All the time." He spat.
The belt was coming down. Billy ducked his head, wrapping his arms around himself as best he could.
CRASH!
The belt and the man dropped to the floor in a sudden collapse.
Billy looked up, his tear-stained face meeting yours in absolute shock. The silence in the room was deafening as you stared at one another.
Breathless, your shoulders heaving, you dropped the shattered remnants of the lamp. Petal-pink ceramic shattered all over the floor.
Billy was trembling as he pushed himself to stand against the wall. "We... we gotta get the fuck outta here." His voice was trembling. You didn't answer, your gaze on the man splayed out on the floor. A large wound on his head was steadily weeping, dripping onto the floor.
Billy grabbed you roughly by the shoulder, making you wince. "Y/N?!" You looked up at him, speechless. How could you even say anything?
Billy went to grab your hand, and you grimaced, pulling back. Grabbing your hand, he looked at your right palm, a lengthy gash spanned the length of your hand. "Fucking Christ," Billy cursed, leaving the room.
Returning, he shoved a white undershirt into your grasp. "Here. We gotta go," he pressed, wrapping a hand around your wrist and pulling you out the front door.
He dragged you down the sidewalk and nearly threw you into the car as he started the engine and flew off down the street. Wrapping the shirt around your hand, you half-hazardly buckled yourself in as Billy made a sharp turn out of the neighborhood, the tires screeching burnt rubber thick in the air.
The camaro's engine revved, doubling down as it picked up speed. The world outside was blurring by too fast. "Billy," you looked over at him cautiously. His gaze was glassy and unfocused, his mouth set in a hard line, his face unreadable. He took another sharp turn. He was driving so fast you couldn't tell where you were.
"Billy, slow down, you're scaring me," your voice sounded distant and quiet. Not like yours at all. Billy's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles were turning white. His brows knitted together as he inhaled deeply, "Why the hell did you do that?" His voice was biting, a sharp cutting slice through the camaro's silent atmosphere. "Billy, please...," you pled as your hand gripped the door's handle, "slow down."
The camaro lurched as Billy's foot pushed the accelerator to the floor, the car straining to accommodate. "Tell me..." he warned, his voice was flat and uncaring. He wouldn't look at you, as he wrenched the steering wheel harshly. "Billy, please! You're scaring me!" His face was red, eyes tear-stained, as he sniffed back a sob and made a hairpin turn off the paved roads of Hawkins towards the Quarry. "WHY!?!" he barked. You jumped, tears were forming in your eyes.
The car veered onto the road's shoulder as he glared down on you, demanding your answer. "Jesus, Billy! Watch the road!" You begged, grabbing onto the steering wheel, and pushing it in the opposite direction. Billy swatted your hands away, swerving the car to correct, the camaro jumping as it hit a wallow in the gravel road. "–I ...." you swallowed, your heart was pounding so loudly you could hear it. "I couldn't just let him do that to you!" you concluded. Billy downshifted, missing the turnoff and sending the car into a spin. "Not your fuckin' business," he spat at you, as he overcorrected fishtailing onto the road up the Quarry bend.
You looked at him with wide eyes, "Billy he could've killed you!" Billy lolled his head over to look at you, before tossing his head back laughing maniacally. It was horrendous and obnoxious. "Billy, this is serious!" you pressed. He fixed his eyes back on the road, "Yah?" He mocked, "Well maybe he should've this time." Tears were falling from your eyes at this point. Did Billy really believe that? That just wasn't possible in your mind.
"Don't say that!" your voice was quivering in emotion. "I don't want your fucking pity Y/N," Billy ground out. You couldn't believe what your ears were hearing. Your own temper was rising. Emotions flooded through every pore of your being. "It's not pity," you bit back. "The fuck it's not," Billy replied.
"It's cuz I love you, jackass!" you yelled, your foot kicking the floorboard in frustration. "Stop the damn car! You're gonna kill us!" He slammed the brakes, both of you lurching forward and straining against your seatbelts. Crossing your arms, you turned away from him sniffling. You didn't catch the astonished look on his face. The way it melted through the tension in his body and settled deep into his chest as he looked at you. He was truly shocked.
"Take me home," you mumbled at the door after a long silence. Billy said nothing but started the engine.
The drive was wordless, only interrupted when Billy occasionally cleared his throat or you sniffed as the tears dried. Pulling up to your house, you sat up straight. Both you and Billy swore. "Shit."
Your mother was in the driveway, staring at you.
Slamming shut the passenger door to her station wagon, she pointed at you and then pointed at the ground. Her voice was muffled by the distance but her mouth made the words clear. "Get out here. Now." You and Billy looked at each other solemnly. "You should go," Billy stated. You looked at your mother's waiting face, "just give me a minute ok? Don't go anywhere?" Billy raised an eyebrow, "Why?" You squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Just, please?" He looked at your mother, and then at you before nodding. "Ok."
Getting out of the camaro, you walked up the driveway to your mother, your head dipped low. "Hey, mom." She didn't even greet you, "Y/N, what did I say about that boy?" You looked up at her from the corner of your eye, hands behind your back. "Mom... I –" She cut you off, pointing a finger at the camaro, "I told you I never wanted to see that boy at this house ever again." "Mom! I told you he's not like that!" arguing back you gestured, forgetting about your hand. Your mother noticed right away, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling your hand to eye level. The undershirt had stained through. "What is this?" your mother asked, waving your hand limply in front of your face. "Is this what he's getting you into?" "Mom it's complicated," you argued. "No, he didn't!" you pushed back, trying to pry yourself away.
She was dragging you up the driveway, "Not another word. Inside." You dug your heels into the concrete, "Mom it wasn't him!" you begged, "Please, he needs help! Someone hurt him!" Your mother stopped, looking you hard in the eyes. "I was trying to stop them, Mom! I promise it wasn't him!" your voice cracked. "Please!"
She studied your face, then looked out at the camaro. "You sure?" You nodded furiously. "He'd never hurt me, Mom, please he needs help!" Your mother gave a deep resounding sigh. "Alright, bring him inside I'll see what I can do." She let you go and walked into the house.
You quickly ran down the driveway to the camaro, Billy's hand was on the ignition as you tapped on the window. Rolling down the window he looked at you hesitantly, "I should go," he stated, avoiding your eyes. You scoffed, "Billy where the hell're you gonna go?" He shifted his shoulders in a non-committal shrug, "–'ll figure something out. Always do." You reached into the car for the keys, falling halfway inside. "What the hell're you doing?!" Billy looked at you with amused bewilderment. "Get out of the car," you grunted, propping yourself upright, "you're staying here tonight." "She's gonna let me stay?" Billy asked. You started wiggling yourself back out of the window, "I'm gonna make her let you stay," you stated with conviction. Billy snorted, "Ok." "Now get out and come inside."
Coming into the house, your mother immediately seized Billy and hauled him to the bathroom. You sat on the living room couch, fiddling with the undershirt over your injured hand while you waited. You couldn't hear what was being said upstairs, but you could definitely tell that your mother was doing most of the talking. After a while, Billy finally came downstairs and quietly sat on the couch as your mother beckoned you to come up.
Shutting the bathroom door behind you, she cornered you against the counter. "I don't like this Y/N," your mother warned you as she grabbed your injured hand and began unwrapping your makeshift bandage. You winced as she plucked the fabric free from your palm and ripped open the drying wound. You gritted your teeth as the searing cold sting of rubbing alcohol washed over your hand, clouding your head. "I'm ok, Mom," you mumbled weakly. Your mother gently placed a medicated gauze pad on your palm as she started wrapping your hand. "Y/N... you need to stop seeing this boy." You looked at your mother with watery eyes, "I can't, Mom, I love him too much." Your mother's lip quivered, shifting from a stern expression to a sympathetic pout. "Honey, he's only going to hurt you in the end," she reasoned.
You shook your head, "He won't. I know it."
"I want you to be safe." "I am, Mom. I am."
You both returned downstairs, Billy standing as you came to rest by his side. "One night," your mother stated, pointing at the pair of you, "And absolutely no funny business you hear me?" You both agreed in unison under her accusatory gaze. "School in the morning. No excuses." You nodded and gave your mother a hug, following her to the front door. Before getting in her car, she yelled, "behave!" You nodded and waved from the doorway until she drove out of sight. Shutting the door, you leaned up against it and looked at Billy.
"What did my mom say to you?" you asked. Billy tilted his head thoughtfully and answered, "She said she'd cut my dick off if I ever touched you." Your face dropped into a concerned frown as his perked into a delighted smirk. "Billy, that's not funny," you chastised him. Prowling across the space, Billy closed the gap between you, "It is." "No, it isn't!" you whined, shoving on his shoulder as he boxed you in.
Leaning in, he tucked your hair behind your ear, "So.... what're we gonna do tonight?" Your face flushed as his hot breath washed over your skin. "Uh, movie night?" you asked coyly.
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#billy hargrove#inthelo#she's a runner#stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#stranger things fanfiction#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy stranger things#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove series#billy hargrove x you#stranger things series#stranger things x female reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things x fem!reader#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n
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IN THE LOOP - check yourselves
I recently had the chance to go to Skate Canada International in Montreal. It was a really wonderful experience and I feel grateful to have been able to enjoy it. The event was well-organized, the volunteers were incredibly nice, and the audience was supportive and friendly. It was therefore extremely dismaying to find that one of the newest and most popular journalism sources for figure skating had such a, frankly, inaccurate, skewed, and alarming perception of the event.
Let’s look at what In the Loop’s goals are:
When I first saw this I was really encouraged because I agree that this is what the sport needs. And I listened to a few early podcast episodes, which I thought were pretty enjoyable. However, last week, I tuned in again and found something rather uninformed in their tone about Russian skaters.
In re: Tarasova/Morozov:
Red: Yeah. They always look like there’s skating to the formula and they don’t really care [about] anything else as long as they’re getting what they need to get the high score that..I don’t know, it’s just very formulaic there’s not a whole lot of emotion like all were saying.
Yogeeta: Hashtag skating while Russian.
...
Red: That’s how it is with most of the Russian pairs, I’ve noticed. And sometimes even Russian Ice Dance, it’s just formulaic. It’s just there. It happens. They did really well technically, but you never really feel anything from it.
About Russians in general:
Yogeeta: Yeah. I think in general Romeo and Juliet programs - their music cut isn’t really good. I never want to hear a Romeo and Juliet voiceover that isn’t “Juliet” [Referring to Junhwan Cha’s voiceover] ever again.
Sam: Skaters out there, voiceover is for camp and very Russian programs. It’s not for you when you’re trying to be serious. It doesn’t work as well.
...
Red: I definitely liked her skating a lot more than some of the other Russian skaters I’ve seen in the past. You can tell that she really does enjoy what she does. She ended both of her performances with a huge smile, so that was really nice to see. But I still think there’s some of that in there, like what you usually see from a lot of these Russian skaters is just “We go out, we do our job, we get it done.” You know? It doesn’t feel as passionate. But I still think she did a really good job.
I was extremely shocked to read this blatantly UNEDUCATED take on pairs. Now, if someone decides that they don’t like “Russians” (whatever that means), I cannot stop you. But it is quite another thing to say that all Russians don’t show emotion, that you don't feel anything from it, and don’t enjoy what they do. Or that Russian pairs are “formulaic.” Perhaps they are not aware of the extensive, epic, and game-changing legacy of Russian pairs skaters. Or even worse, perhaps they are aware and choose to ignore it to write off the current pairs AND the entire history of the discipline in one go. Listen, if you don't know much about pairs, that’s totally fine. Not everyone likes every event. But don’t pretend to know what you’re talking about and spread this as the truth when it is clearly not steeped in any deep knowledge of the sport. Where is the “international perspective” or “in-depth historical data”?
I wish I could say things improved from there, but they did not. Again, the audience was VERY respectful at Skate Canada, did not boo anyone, cheered for all, and especially the home team skaters. By the way, for anyone who has ever attended a sporting event, this is normal behavior. I noticed I was sitting within viewing distance of the In the Loop crowd, but didn’t think much of it. But I want to emphasize this because I heard exactly what they heard in the same area of the rink. So when I read this:
Kite: I want to say I was not super impressed with some of the audience not really cheering for the non-Canadian skaters. It was something I noticed. I mean, it is an event in Canada, it’s called Skate Canada, of course you’re gonna be going all out for your home skaters.
...
Kat: Yeah, Vanessa and Morgan got a huge standing ovation and they got a lot of cheer, and obviously, they deserved it. And also Evgenia got a lot of cheering as well, but I guess she’s been adopted into the Canadians, kind of?
Kite: Well she’s also just so well known and I think she has become a pretty beloved figure for a lot of fans post-Olympics.
Kat: Yeah, I guess so.
Kite: So yeah, it was either if you were a very well known skater, or if you were a Canadian/French skater.
Nina: I wish the well-known points would have counted towards some of the Men’s skaters.
Gina: Yeah, it was really obvious when streaming that the crowd was just so half-hearted who wasn’t either really well known or Canadian.
I was a bit irked because the audience cheered for EVERYONE. Perhaps they were more enthusiastic about the Canadians but guess what? You are in Canada. It’s not exactly shocking behavior, and I’m glad to see the home skaters got attention. A truly rude crowd is one that is salty to their own - what we should encourage is more casual fans becoming serious fans, and that starts with them cheering for a home team. It’s true that for others it may start with the fact that the skater is another nationality, but the majority of people are not this way. Just a reality check.
By the way, it is really stretch to tie everyone who got super loud cheers back to Canada, or to assume that ALL CANADIANS LOVE FRENCH PEOPLE. Excuse me, what kind of generalization is this? Certainly NOT a primer “on cross-disciplinary areas such as sociology, medicine, media, gender studies, and politics.” I was at the event with many people and none of them found the crowd half-hearted. And guess what, only one of us was Canadian (no, it is not me) (no, I am not a middle-aged Canadian white person, in fact I am none of the above).
And then this:
Gina: I am going to get banned from Canada, I’m never allowed to enter, I find Canadians so boring.
Kite: Go off!
Gina: I’m sorry! I found the performance-
Nina: I was trying to be diplomatic.
Gina: Really one-note and really dull. I think they rely, especially in their Free Program, they rely a bit too much on the music to provoke a response in the audience rather than working with the music to create something themselves.
Kat: I agree.
Gina: I just find them so dull.
Kat: A note on the music: So they skated to Pink Floyd in their Free Skate, and that is such… A lot of the Canadians, I’ve noticed, pick oldies to skate to-
Nina: So Canadian…
Kat: Yeah, they pick oldies to skate to. That elicits a response from a certain demographic.
Gina: I think I’m about 30 years too young for Canada.
On Keegan:
Nina: Oh, I’m very curious to see what his scores will look like at other locations.
Kat: Yeah because our crowd obviously got really, really into his programs.
Gina: I don’t understand Canadians. I will say that I was correct last time that his Short Program is much more enjoyable when I mute the music.
Nina: This just in, Gina doesn’t like oldies.
It is extremely unprofessional and rude to write off an ENTIRE COUNTRY based off a few figure skating performances you found uninspiring. By the way, if Pink Floyd is an “oldie” that you dislike, then what exactly is Shoma Uno’s Led Zeppelin cover SP? The bias is rather jarring and way worse than anything I hear on live tv. Which by the way, is already pretty bad, so if your goal is to encourage “critical, educated fans” with “sociology” and “politics” I’d say you are doing pretty much the exact opposite of that.
In fact, they seem to have a very poor understanding of why Canada is a country that produces a lot of skaters, whether for themselves or others. During the ice dance event they say:
Kat: The most enthusiastic crowds for sure, like most of the front row seats were pretty filled for ice dance considering it was - they were both like early evening events as well, like they started at around six or seven. It's not super late either, so a lot more people were able to attend their, you know, it's like off work hours. I guess Canadians come watch Ice Dance when that happens.
Actually, rather than Canadians all collectively deciding to watch ice dance after work, In the Loop might want to consider that Montreal is currently the global hub of Ice Dance with Gadbois, and many of their teams were at this event. And I believe there was a large contingent of affiliated skaters, families, and friends in the stands. Do your diligence.
And then, back to the Russians:
Nina: The Free Dance seemed like it was supposed to be clean, and glassy, and very elegant, but they didn't really have the tech to back it up-
Kite: No, they do, they have good tech, like their tech is fine. It was just boring, like it didn't connect to the audience.
Nina: I feel like this will make no sense but it felt like their program wanted to be very lyrical- not lyrical, but like balletic, almost? Like the vibe-
Kat: That’s very Russian.
Very Russian, is it?
Let’s remind ourselves again:
Don’t overextend yourself before you educate yourself on what you’re actually trying to do. Please, In the Loop, moderate your tone and biases. It is very clear to me that you guys have your favorites - we all do. But there is absolutely no need to sacrifice education, information, professionalism, and your raison d’être above in order to talk about other countries’ figure skating traditions, fans, and history.
By the way, the last thing I want to do is censor anyone. If you want to say these things, by all means go ahead. But please do not try to come across as serious, objective journalists who encourage varied discussion because new fans will be influenced to follow your reasoning. It is not hard to lay out the facts and THEN present your biases as your own. There is no need to conflate the latter with the former.
As a final note, for fans who were so disappointed with the event and the people who attended, it seems they had no qualms about taking seats that they did not pay for and openly bragging about it on social media:
I am extremely disappointed in what was once a promising new journalism outlet losing credibility rather quickly via what appears to be unprofessional generalizations about culture, fandoms, and everything they purport to encourage discourse about. Do better, In the Loop.
#figure skating#skating#in the loop#podcast#skate canada#sci2018#gpfigure#grandprix#sci#inthelo#in the loop podcast#skate canada 2018#ice dance#shoma uno#Keegan messing#junhwan cha#Elizaveta Tuktamysheva#mako yamashita#evgenia medvedeva#alexei mishin#Brian orser#Mihoko Higuchi#james/cipres#peng/jin#moore-towers/marinaro#hubbell/donohue#sinitsina/ katsalapov#gilles/porier#gadbois#montreal
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I appreciate your discussion of Billy's trauma history and canon life experiences through the lens of ACEs.
I wanted to just take the opportunity to point out, that ACEs is merely a tool used in the psych and mental health fields. It is designed to help bring wider awareness to the prevalence and related long-term impacts that childhood trauma can have in a person's life.
ACEs is not intended to be a catch all instrument. People with ACEs scores are not necessarily all destined to long term adverse life experiences. ACEs is usually administered in conjunction with child therapy intakes and early intervention programs to help avoid long lasting negative effects. Again it is a tool to help mental health professionals gain insight into how best to tailor treatment for a client. It is used to inform treatment planning. Not to diagnose.
Are adverse life experiences correlated with higher ACEs scores? Yes. but they're not mutually exclusive. Having an ACEs score should not be taken as gospel. As was stated in the main post, ACE items are fairly common place. It is likely that most people will score at least a 1-2 on the ACEs.
It is not a highly sensitive tool. It accounts for the most common of adverse childhood experiences, but it does not differentiate between which of those being more or less adverse than the other. It shouldn't because individuals all respond differently to traumatic experiences, however some of the items compounding experiences together, creates less room for nuance. For example, including having lost a parent to death vs. losing a parent to divorce can have largely different effects in a child's life.
Another thing that the ACEs does not account for are individual strengths and resiliency. The ACEs can help bring to the top all the things that are concerning or 'wrong' in a person's life, but doesn't account for protective factors.
So yes, the ACEs brings the awareness to the top of the pile for Billy, but it shouldn't be interpreted as a tool that can predict a pre-destined outcome. That if one has a high ACEs that they are doomed for a bad life ahead. The ACEs didn't account for Billy being enrolled in school, having a job, participating in an extracurricular activity (basketball), the possible support he received from Max, and maybe a bit less so from people like Tommy and Carol or teammates. It does not account for Billy's individual resiliency. His ability to adapt and survive in spite of all the adversity he has endured. It's simply a tool to inform, but not to predict.
Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) & What That Means for Billy
ACEs are something that I think Stranger Things fans have to understand if they’re going to talk about Billy Hargrove. I don’t care so much if people like him, but I do care when people make callous remarks about abuse survivors because of their reaction to him. Billy is not real, but I am. Many people including myself have similar experiences to Billy. So, I am going to explain what ACEs are as they pertain to Billy as well as why you need to stop saying some of the things you’re saying about him.
Before any of you comes at me with “You can understand him, but it doesn’t excuse x, y, or z…,” I need you to stop and think critically about whether or not you’re using that statement as an excuse for yourself to avoid any responsibility in examining the way you think about trauma and it’s survivors. I also need you to think about how your ideas re: justice disproportionately harm marginalized people because the rhetoric some of you use comes from a carceral, punitive mindset. It is not restorative and it does not reduce harm.
Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) is a term used to identify and quantify the impact of childhood trauma on people. Theoretically, the more ACEs a person has the more likely they are to face negative life outcomes. That includes chronic disease, sexual exploitation, STIs/STDs, anxiety and depression, substance abuse, poverty and homelessness, as well as early death. However, there are ways to mitigate the effects of ACEs through support systems and interventions.
ACEs are common. Most people have at least one ACE. There are some people who have a few ACEs. However, some people have a very high ACE score that puts them at a much higher risk for the above life outcomes. I have an ACE score around 8. That’s high. As a result, I have mental and physical health problems that need intervention in order for me to get better. As a child, I developed unhealthy coping skills while surviving abuse that made it difficult for me to access the supports I needed to get better.
What I would like people to understand is that the way we treat people with high ACEs impacts their ability to change. If you want someone like Billy to change, then you have to have empathy for abuse survivors. There is no way around it. If you mock or make light of the negative life outcomes he has experienced because you just don’t like him, that means you do not have empathy for abuse survivors. It does not matter if you think doing so protects the people he has harmed (e.g. Max, Lucas, Steve, et cetera). It is still harmful to us.
Now, if you have read all of that and you’re willing to listen then I’m going to talk about Billy’s ACE score down below. I will talk very openly about canon child abuse he faced as well as the implications of his behavior. I will also talk a little bit about what kind of supports a person like Billy would need. If you are not going to respect any of that, then simply do not engage with me. I cannot force you to lift your head out of the sand, and I do not deserve anyone’s vitriol over this. I think I am being very reasonable.
I am going to base Billy’s ACE score off of this questionnaire. It was featured on NPR, and it’s based on the questionnaire used on the CDC-Kaiser Study on ACEs. There are 10 questions. Any ACE score deserves intervention, but keep in mind that an ACE score over 5 is very high. Here are the questions with responses pertaining to Billy’s canon experiences:
1) Before your 18th birthday, did a parent or other adult in the household often or very often… swear at you, insult you, put you down, or humiliate you? Or act in a way that made you afraid that you might be physically hurt?
Billy’s father does swear at him. He insults his appearance. He calls his son a p***y and a f****t. He does this in front of other people. Billy freezes up when threatened by him and acts in ways to avoid being hurt by him. ACE score so far: 1.
2) Before your 18th birthday, did a parent or other adult in the household often or very often…push, grab, slap, or throw something at you?Or ever hit you so hard that you had marks or were injured?
Billy’s father does smack him. He’s pushed him. He’s thrown him to the ground. ACE score so far: 2.
3) Before your 18th birthday, did an adult or person at least five years older than you ever…touch or fondle you or have you touch their body in a sexual way? Or attempt or actually have oral, anal, or vaginal intercourse with you?
This may be controversial, but I think this may be implied. It’s already been discussed that Billy is hyper sexual. This is not typical or healthy behavior, and behavior like this usually indicates a history of sexual abuse. However, we just don’t know 100% other than the fact that adult women have exhibited predatory behavior towards him even before turning 18. ACE score so far: 2 or 3.
4) Before your eighteenth birthday, did you often or very often feel that… no one in your family loved you or thought you were important or special? Or your family didn’t look out for each other, feel close to each other, or support each other?
This is obvious, as it serves as one of Billy’s major conflicts. The last time he felt happy was when he was a young child. His parents fought all the time. His father never supported him. Susan ignores the fact that Neil abuses him. No one showed any interest in his well-being. ACE score so far: 3 or 4.
5) Before your 18th birthday, did you often or very often feel that… you didn’t have enough to eat, had to wear dirty clothes, and had no one to protect you? Or your parents were too drunk or high to take care of you or take you to the doctor if you needed it?
It’s not clear how well Billy’s material needs are met, but there was absolutely no one protecting him in his household. His room, though decorated, is still pretty bare compared to his sister. Billy is fairly independent because no one really takes care of him. ACE score so far: 4 or 5.
6) Before your 18th birthday, was a biological parent ever lost to you through divorce, abandonment, or other reason?
Yes. His parents not only separated/divorced, but his mother abandoned him. He had no choice but to live with his abuser. ACE score so far: 5 or 6.
7) Before your 18th birthday, was your mother or stepmother: often or very often pushed, grabbed, slapped, or had something thrown at her? Or sometimes, often, or very often kicked, bitten, hit with a fist, or hit with something hard? Or ever repeatedly hit over at least a few minutes or threatened with a gun or knife?
Yes. His mother was abused by his father as well, which may have been the motivation behind her leaving. Billy tried to intervene as a child, but his father pushed him down. ACE score so far: 6 or 7.
8) Before your 18th birthday, did you live with anyone who was a problem drinker or alcoholic, or who used street drugs?
Again, this is tricky. Billy is a substance abuser. It is likely that his father is a substance abuser as well, but we just don’t know enough. ACE score so far: 6-8.
9) Before your 18th birthday, was a household member depressed or mentally ill, or did a household member attempt suicide?
This is also tricky. Billy exhibits symptoms of mental illness. I know Dacre mentioned Billy having anxiety recently. It would not surprise me if his mother or father exhibited symptoms of mental illness, too. ACE score so far: 6-9.
10) Before your 18th birthday, did a household member go to prison?
We also don’t know much about this. I believe in Runaway Max, Billy himself has had run-ins with cops. He certainly participates in illegal behavior. I don’t get the feeling that his father actively likes to break the law and I don’t think there’s ever any indication that Neil has been arrested for abusing Billy. Still, it is a possibility that Billy has negative experiences with the legal system. ACE score so far: 6-10.
So, all in all, we know for a fact that Billy has at least an ACE score of 6 with a maximum of 10. What does that mean for him? It is very likely for someone like Billy to develop Complex PTSD as a result. CPTSD usually stems from prolonged trauma rather than a single event. CPTSD makes it difficult for people to form healthy attachments and regulate their emotions. Not only that, but having an ACE score this high is associated with risky behavior, hyper sexuality, and substance abuse.
From the CDC-Kaiser Study, here is a graphic representation of common outcomes experienced by people with high ACEs:
We know Billy dies by supernatural forces, but it is no coincidence that he died young as an abuse survivor with a high ACE score. His inability to form healthy attachments and regulate his emotions isolated him from the support systems that could have helped him. Will didn’t ultimately succumb to the Mindflayer because he had a family who loved him and fought for him. Still, it says a lot that he decided to sacrifice himself after a single person decided to reach out to him and help him even just a little bit through his trauma.
I know many people still want him to make amends for his wrongs, but at that point in his life it was very difficult for him to do so. You have to understand that ACEs are an injury, and if you do not let them heal then a person can never get better. What happens when you say or suggest that someone like him can’t change or doesn’t deserve change or deserved to die like that or the like is you trap abuse survivors in this cycle until they no longer survive.
It is a good thing that people have decided to step outside of that punitive, carceral, ‘revenge’ mindset to humanize an abuse survivor. In doing so they are not “making excuses” but rather recognizing that change and healing cannot take place when we think like that. It is not justice. It does not restore justice to victims of violence. It does not stop the perpetuation of violence. Furthermore, using guilt and shame as a motivator for change does not help people like Billy heal from their trauma because it does not recognize their trauma.
If you still do not like Billy after all of this, I do not care. My goal is not to change minds on that front.
If after this you still think it’s okay to mock the abuse he went through (ie. Joking about his death, joking or justifying his father abusing him, and/or saying he deserved any of it) then YOU are the problem! You have no right to be sanctimonious, because YOUR behavior is as systematically harmful as Billy’s own prejudices and as much as some of you like to parrot that he’s “racist and homophobic” you should know that your mindset disproportionately punishes people marginalized on the basis of race or sexuality.
So please, learn what ACEs are and take them seriously. Do your research on ways to prevent ACEs. Think critically about how people talk about abuse survivors no matter how good or bad they seem. Barring trauma from the supernatural, Billy has one of the highest ACE scores out of any of the characters on the show. The fact that he receives some of the most heinous “criticisms” and there is a complete unwillingness to understand him reflects what people with high ACEs face on a regular basis.
That is a problem you CHOOSE to be complicit in.
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Whole Obsession
summary this newfound obsession was sparked by complete accident, but now that the cat's out of the bag, there's no stopping it.
warnings smut, pwp, no plot, m receiving, oral, rimming, teasing, fingering, hole play, shameless needy needy boy
word count 869
note brainrot that's been rotting for a while and i wanted you to share it with me. this fic will be gender-neutral and only feature x reader pronouns of "you/your" as the fic is centered on billy and will have no major descriptors of the reader's body. have fun my fellow gremlins. 😌 maybe i should make this part 1 and then make a part 2????
"More.... more," he groaned through heavy pants, hips rolling in time with each bob of your head. He was making it difficult with every reflexive thrust shoving his cock deeper down your throat until you gagged and choked.
This wasn't working for you as you pulled off for the third time to cough and breathe.
"Don't stop," Billy pouted, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you. "I can't breathe genius," you complained with a hand on your throat. He smirked, falling back against the mattress, "Not my fault," he mused.
"You gonna finish me or what?" Billy asked impatiently, a knee crooking upward. You huffed, crossing and then uncrossing your arms over your chest. You were anything but a quitter. He licked his lips with a pleased smile, hips wiggling to meet you as you stretched back out along the mattress.
Determined not to tap out this time, you wrapped a hand around his base in a tight grip making him tilt his head back with a groan. Spit-slicking his cock you worked him back to full attention. "God just like that!" he hummed appreciatively as his legs splayed open for you.
You swallowed him down, your hand following your lips in rhythm. Up down, up down. "Fuck baby...!" he drawled, a loose hand wandering over your head. "More. Ughhh. More!" You spared a glance up at him. He was already lost in it, more wouldn't make much difference, but you didn't want to disappoint. Didn't want him to leave with that smug-ass look on his face.
Licking a flat stripe up his length, you pulled away, thumb rubbing in pressured circles against the hardened member as you traced your way down with your other free hand. With wet popping kisses your mouth traveled from his inner thigh to his taint, moving up to nuzzle the soft runched skin of his sac. His hips bucked as you licked and suckled him, your lips wrapping around one ball, tongue gently pulling him in. Billy was gone, quickly growing limp and pliant under your grasp as you backed off with a wet pop, treating its twin to the same.
Thoroughly wet, you plucked at his sensitive skin, small gasps falling from his open lips. His voice was going hoarse, cracking from strain and use.
You wanted to wring every single noise possible from his lungs as you pinned his cock flat to his torso with your palm, lifting him so you could taste him further. Licking down his sac you hooked your tongue, gliding it along his underside, a great bodily shudder rewarding you.
"More... 'm so close," he whined, thighs clenching.
You couldn't help but smile, as you dragged your tongue down his midline, pulling back and spitting only to smear it across his taint. He whined loudly, hips rutting helplessly against your hand.
Obliging him, you wrapped your occupying hand around his cock. The crown was covered in precum, which you generously used. Slowly gliding your thumb back and forth across his slit.
Your tongue was graduating lower, swiping and wagging further with each breath. Billy was shaking as his hips strained forward to accommodate you, his spine curling.
"Wanna stop?" you asked. "More," he panted as he pulled his legs up against his sides.
His hole was tight, just looking at it made you ache and throb. Reaching out, you lightly pressed a thumb to it in greeting. Billy responded in a low, broken moan that made your spine tingle. Retracting your hand, you lowered yourself back down and placed chaste kisses on each of his ass cheeks. In a broad-reaching swipe, you placed your first lick.
"Fuuuuuuck," he droned, his toes curling. Pulling back, you watched his hole clench and flex from your touch. It was making you hungry for him.
Abandoning your grasp on his cock, you spread him, your index finger lightly prodding his puckered hole. "Ooooh, oh!" Billy whimpered, adjusting to grab his dick and take your place. Dipping your tongue, you lapped at his hole. Delving deep with each thrust of your tongue, you pried him open, the taught muscle throbbing on your tastebuds.
"–m gonna cum!" he warned, voice breaking. But you didn't care as you maintained your pace and opened his hole. Wetting him down, you slipped a finger inside, gently setting up a pace as you kept lapping him up, loudly squelching and smacking your lips against his damp skin.
"Fuck, I'ma –!" he cut off, as his body seized up beneath you, his hips faltering as his hand pumped his swollen cock to completion. Thick spurts of cum shot from his dick as he whined, his hips struggling in your grasp. Your tongue riding him through the crescendo.
"Ah! Ah, aaaahhhh! Too much! T'much!" He whimpered, as you slowed your pace, slowly backing your finger out of his hole. As you licked him one final time, he let out a droning cry before letting his legs down. His chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
"More?" you asked with a smirk, climbing up to face him. He opened one eye to peer at you but said nothing. Instead, he rolled into your arms and closed his eyes.
#inthelo#billy hargrove#stranger things#billy hargrove x gn reader#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fanfiction#stranger things smut#stranger things x gn reader#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader
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#im so sorry that you put up with my slow af ass#stick with me its in drafts its just a matter of when i can put time on it#inthelo
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Stay tuned buddies, chapters of She's A Runner and Supersonic Millennium will be returning soon...
#inthelo#summer is coming!#billy hargrove#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things smut#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x you
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as a third year psych student i am throwing my gd back out to get behind this. yes yes yes!
Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable.
This boy needed help. He needed someone to show him that life was not just pain and suffering, that there was more once you break through years of abuse.
And I'm not talking as a sappy fan here, but as a licensed social worker.
Without a doubt, this bitch would have been my favourite client. He already IS my favourite client.
Now, would it be hard to work with him?
Fuck yeah.
He would Rebel against anything I say, he would try to intimidate me and keep me far away, he would most definitely be rude as fuck and make fun of most things that leave my mouth. And he would flip his shit hard whenever I touch any subject he doesn't want to talk about.
On bad days, days where he was beaten and abused again, he would be an absolute menace. He would probably throw chairs and tables around, start fist fights with the other kids in my group and just be a proper pain in my arse.
So yes, Billy hargrove would be difficult. Especially in the beginning.
But that's what abused kids do.
They want you to stay the fuck away from them. Because all they know is pain. They've been hurt so much, that they can't believe it's not normal. That not every one is out to hurt them. Because people don't care for them. They don't care about them.
Social workers are "in it for the money" anyway. They don't give a shit, much less about them. Much less about kids like Billy.
Good things don't happen to them.
Good people don't just stumble into their lives.
Because nothing good ever does.
But you know what kids like Billy also do? What I've seen so many times at my job, working with troubled youths?
I've seen kids like Billy Hargrove beam at compliments. At genuine compliments, compliments that aren't used to get them to do something. They dead arse break a grin so wide it blinds you, despite not wanting to.
I've seen them get glassy eyes when you welcome them and tell them you're happy to see them around. Because they feel appreciated, like them being there is a good thing.
I've seen them slowly opening up, once they realise that I'm not going anywhere and that I, in fact, actually care about their well being.
I've seen them go all soft and huggy because they crave warmth and kindness. They crave what they never get at home.
I've seen kids have fun, fun that they've never been allowed to have at home. They are the older siblings, the only providers. They carry responsibilities the shouldn't have to carry at home. But with my colleagues and I, they don't. They can be themselves and have fun. Being silly, being young and being genuinely happy because they are allowed to be.
Just imagine Billy breaking an involuntary grin because you tell him how neat his camaro looks, all clean and shiny today.
Imagine him getting flustered when you tell him how nice it is to have him back with the group while you pass along some sweets or whatever.
Respect and responsibility? My arse. Everyone get the waterballoons, we'll have a fight. And we all know Billy would hold back at first, pretend it's stupid, before ambition hits and the kid tries to be the last dry one standing. he's laughing with the other kids, dripping wet by the end of it. And he enjoys it massively.
How he suddenly allows other people to pat his back, hug him or bump his hips. How he actually starts liking it, touch starved as the boy likely is.
Now imagine Billy Hargroves face once he realises that he doesn't have to scare people away because whatever his dad taught him was bullshit. That he really doesn't need to repeat any of the homophobic or racist slurs Neil threw around ever again because he doesn't believe them anyway.
So yes, Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable. He was not. He was a boy that needed work, definitely, but he was far FAR from being a lost cause.
Billy was just a poor eighteen year old boy that needed warmth and softness. That needed a chance to learn that people cared, truly cared, about him like no one in fucking Hawkins ever did. Not his father, not Susan, not Max.
Billy needed one person who understood him, cared for him and taught him that life was more than pain and suffering.
And its fucking bullshit that he never got to meet that person because killing him was easier.
No, he was not irredeemable and everyone who says he was just chooses the easy road. Because seeing and accepting layers is so much harder than saying he's a piece of shit, am I right?
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Hello, hello everyone! It's celebration time!
I'm very excited to announce my first follower celebration event! Thank you so much for hanging around and reading my works, it means an awful lot to me given that I know I am a low-activity blog. In order to celebrate this occasion I wanted to set up some offerings that will be small but meaningful and fun to boot!
Rules: Everyone is invited to participate, I just ask that you please use the 'honors system' when participating. I ask that you please send any ask once per category, and request to enter the raffle once. If you wish to enter the raffle, I please ask that you do not send your message as an anonymous ask. I will need a way to a. contact you (if you win), and b. keep track of who I have entered into the raffle.
Also, again with the honors system, please do not send asks for NSFW content if you are under 18+. Reader content for the celebration will be written as gender-neutral (with just 'you' as the identifiers) so all can participate, unless the sender specifies otherwise.
The celebration ask box will open starting Friday, March 31 and will close on Friday, April 14.
How it works: I will be offering a specific number of slots per type of ask to my party-goers, so be sure to read the slot amount and stay aware as I make updates to indicate once they are full. The raffle will have the fewest number of slots and will offer the largest prize, which can be tailored to greater specifications but will take a longer working time from me and will require patience from you if you plan to enter the raffle.
Characters: As per my usual, any of the Stranger Things guys that are 18+ are on the table.
Content: Both SFW and NSFW are acceptable.
Punch Bowl 🍹- Send me any of your thoughts, gossip, or headcanons about a listed character and I will write a response to it. Can be SFW or NSFW. 15 slots.
Pizza Slice 🍕- Send me any headcanons or predictions you have about my writings and I will write a response to them. Can be SFW or NSFW. Unlimited slots.
Keg Stand 🍺- Send me party themed scenario and a character, and I will write a small blurb about it. 5 slots
Dance Floor 🕺- Send me a description of what kind of person you are at a party and I will pair you up with a dance partner. 10 slots.
Party Games 🎉- Send me a personal ask, fmk, would you rather's, never have i ever's, top 5's, etc. If it's a game, it goes here. Unlimited slots.
Guest Book 📖- Sign my guest book. This is for general asks, thank yous, and general pop-ins. Unlimited slots.
Raffle 🎟- Send me your raffle ticket to enter for a chance to win a 1k+ - 5k word, reader x, one-shot request from me. Will be written to your specifications. 3 slots.
#500 followers#latelyanobsession#inthelo#follower celebration#stranger things celebration#billy hargrove#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader#billy hargrove x reader
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i really need to get back to putting out my smut on here, it's clogging my drafts lol
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Just a heads up to new follows...
blogs that are empty of activity/posts will be blocked and cleared from my follow list.
I'm trying to keep things streamlined.
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welp. that does it. guess we gotta be friends now. @writer-in-theory
just over here smiling like an idiot that you like my writing! i actually just came across your works too! so let me dive in and get back to you with some love of my own!!!
do i dare put --- all of them? i do.
YOURE SO LUCKY I LIKE YOU PAL 🙄 /lh
Keep reading
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What letters are currently available?
Alphabets that are still available are as follows:
Argyle: all letters available
Jason: all letters except G, and T
Johnathan: all letters except A
Billy: remaining available are F, J, L, M, N, O, Q, U, V, W, X, Y, Z
Steve: all letters available except for E, and F
Eddie: all letters available except for K, R, Z
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this close 🤏 to hitting 500. should i do something with that or should i be extra and wait longer?
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Oh my goodness. I just read the billy smut I requested about cockwarming him…. YOU WRITE SO WELL. Shocked, it’s so good!!!! Thank you!!!
thank you babe! it's a scenario that runs through my own mind a little too often considering how much studying i constantly have to do 🤭
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Let's see if I can bring myself to ramp up some activity while I still have some free time 🤞
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Do you write still ?
Yes I am, things are in drafts currently. And I have I believe 3-4 things in the ask box to work on. I have just hit a busy patch (yet again) in my academic program where I'm trying to finish out my doctoral project before the end of July, am still working for another two weeks, and am in weekly classes for another 4. I try to add sentences when I can but this is at the end of the day ... A bottom priority compared to schooling.
Things will be published when I get the free time, which is hopefully soon...
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