#Billy Hargrove fluff
Note
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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I Know Better
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.
Warnings: Language, slut-shaming
Word Count: 1396
A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.
I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.
This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.
And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.
I hope you enjoy!
Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me
"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush”
Billy Hargrove never scared you.
Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude.
You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car.
You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door.
Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you.
He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away.
You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day.
It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst.
You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight.
You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you.
Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag.
In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out.
You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing.
“Wanna say that again?”
Your brows pulled in confusion.
What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious?
It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence.
Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth.
He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building.
Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office.
Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes.
I heard he keyed Billy’s car.
No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up.
Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making.
The day couldn’t have been over soon enough.
At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating.
You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside.
“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette.
“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap.
“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets.
Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you.
It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood.
He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile.
“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked.
You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out.
This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.”
But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal.
“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.”
There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.”
“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile.
“You’ll have mine.”
The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing.
You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door.
—
That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name.
He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself.
“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness.
“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers.
He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food.
“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.”
You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone.
You took a shot in the dark.
“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?”
His jaw clenched and hands stopped.
So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor?
But why?
And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other.
You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.”
“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping.
“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.”
At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation.
“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen.
You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.”
“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed.
Of course, that was what he took away.
“Billy,” you warned playfully.
“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.”
You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content.
“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over.
“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.”
Names.
You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you.
You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.
“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.”
He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours.
“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked.
“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were.
He leaned his elbows on the table.
“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.”
Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove x reader#Billy Hargrove x female reader#Billy Hargrove x fem!reader#Billy Hargrove x you#Billy Hargrove one shot#Billy Hargrove oneshot#Billy Hargrove fanfic#Billy Hargrove fanfiction#Billy Hargrove imagine#Billy Hargrove imagines
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove x reader where they’re at a party (i’d like the whole crew to all be friends robin, steve, nancy, billy, eddie) and reader wanders off for a minute. she somehow gets in the middle of a fight and someone hits her. she comes up to billy crying and he goes into super protective mode? idk i thought it sounded kind of cute i love your writing!!
I miss Billy. And thank you so much!!! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3
Bodyguard
Billy and Y/N have been together for almost two years. They met when he moved into town, she was swept away by his charming smile and blue eyes. She was a grade younger, now finally in her senior year alongside Eddie and Robin. Billy graduated with Steve and Nancy, but they all still hung out. And since Y/N was in high school knew the popular crowd, and was King Billy's girlfriend, she got invited to a lot of parties. And the group was always happy to tag along.
Billy, Steve, and Eddie were hanging outside, passing around a cigarette as they leaned against the back of the house. Robin, Nancy, and Y/N were inside, dancing and getting drinks. The boys were chatting among random things, then Robin came rushing out. She stood by the back door and searched the crowd. Once her eyes landed on Billy she screamed for him.
~~~
"JASON! RELAX!" Y/N yelled, Jason was yanking Chrissy around the party, another fight that Y/N didn't know what about. She wanted to protect her friend, Chrissy.
"This doesn't involve you," Jason growled, his grip still on Chrissy but he got in Y/N's face. Robin and Nancy watched nervously, a bad feeling in their gut.
"Y/N, just leave it!" Nancy tried, a crowd forming around the arguing couple.
"She's not going home with you. She said no and that means no." Y/N snapped, she didn't back down, holding her head higher as Jason looked down at her.
"She's my girlfriend, so butt out," Jason said, turning around as he dragged Chrissy with him. Y/N stepped in quickly, grabbing Chrissy's other arm. Y/N yanked her back, Jason lost his grip and his hand flew back smacking Y/N right in the nose. Y/N yelped and covered her nose, feeling warm blood dripping from her nose.
~~~
"BILLY. ITS Y/N!" Billy, Steve, and Eddie all jumped into action, Billy smashed the cigarette under his shoe and raced to Robin.
Steve and Eddie knew if it involved Y/N, Billy wouldn't think rationally.
"WHAT'S WRONG?" Billy yelled, following her into the house. Robin didn't try to explain, just racing to the bathroom.
Billy felt nervous, was she sick?
Billy walked in to see Nancy holding ice to Y/N's nose, the front of her dress had spots of blood. He softly pushed Nancy aside, grabbing the ice as he held it for Y/N. Chrissy was silent in the corner.
"What happened?" He whispered, gently rubbing her cheek as he looked at her nose. It wasn't broken, which he was thankful for.
"Nothing, I'm fine, baby," she said, rubbing his arm. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were soaked. Her lip trembled as she silently cried.
"Baby, you have a bruised nose. Did you slip or something? Nothing to be embarrassed about." He joked, a smile on his face. But the atmosphere told him it wasn't anything that would be funny in a day from now.
"She was helping me and Jason flung his arm and he smacked her in the nose," Chrissy said, drowning in the amount of guilt she felt.
Billy's expression went hard in seconds. Steve and Eddie immediately blocked the door as Billy started to breathe heavily.
"He hit you?" Billy snarled, dropping the ice in the sink as he took in her face.
"It was an accident, Billy! Just relax. I'm okay!" She tried, but all Billy could focus on was the fact that she had blood on her dress because of Jason.
"You're okay? You have a fucking bloody nose! I'm going to kill him!" Billy growled. He turned and glared at Steve and Eddie.
"Move." He demanded, but both boys shook their heads.
"Billy, not a good idea. She's okay and she doesn't want you to get involved with it." Steve explained. But Billy didn't care.
"Move or I move you." Billy tried again.
Steve and Eddie looked at each other, knowing the result would land them in pain or Jason. Both boys moved away from the door, Billy yanking it open as he raced out to the party.
"BILLY!" Y/N screamed, running after him. The gang followed behind, all rushing to see what was going to happen.
By the time they caught up, Billy had Jason pinned against the wall. His blue eyes were dark as he growled at Jason.
"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! SHE PUT HER NOSE WHERE IT DIDN'T BELONG. MAYBE KEEP YOUR LITTLE SLUT OF THE WEEK ON A TIGHTER LEASH!" Jason yelled, barely realizing his mistake until Billy landed a knee to his stomach, over and over.
Jason screamed in pain as Billy dropped him, his body crumpling to the floor as he held his stomach. Now on his knees, Billy landed a punch right across his face. Blood poured out of Jason's nose as he dropped completely to the ground this time. He wrapped his arms around his face as he tried to surrender.
"Enough" Eddie demanded, stepping in front of Jason as Billy went to land a kick to his stomach.
"DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH HER OR EVEN TALK ABOUT HER AGAIN!" Billy screamed.
"Hey, hey!" Eddie said, snapping his fingers in Billy's face to catch his attention. Billy finally looked at him, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.
"He got the message. Y/N is fine and needs you now. Okay? Walk away."
Billy listened to Eddie's words and took a deep breath. His body relaxed when he felt Y/N's hand slip into his. She squeezed it gently as she stood next to him. She gave him a look and he understood everything. He nodded and walked with her. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her nose as they walked to his car.
"My bodyguard." Y/N swooned, giggling as she snuggled into his body, reaching his car.
"Precious things like you need extra protection," Billy said, smiling as he leaned down to peck her lips softly.
The gang races out, Robin laughing as she held empty bottles of beer, along with Nancy.
"GET IN! GO GO!" Steve yelled, Eddie running behind.
A soaked Jason came limping out, his white shirt now drenched as he held his nose. Cursing as the gang raced into the car and sped off.
#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove angst x reader#billy hargrove angst to fluff#ashwhowrites#billy hargrove request
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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.
....................................................................
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.
...................................................................
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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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
————
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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Billy’s Girl
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader!Reader (reader’s last name is Emmerson; no reason, just cuz)
Warning: Fluff, making out, Billy realizing he’s in love, and Jason Carver being the dick that he is.
Enjoy & let me know what you think! 💙
“Dude look at Emmerson, she looks fucking hot in that cheerleading outfit.”
“Nah man have you seen Chrissy? She looks amazing.”
“Yeah but have you seen that skirt on Emmerson? If she jumps a little higher, I’ll be able to..”
“Finish that fucking sentence Carver, and the only thing you’ll be able to do is drink your lunch through a fucking straw.”
Billy Hargrove turned around from his seat on the bleachers to glare at the boy seated directly behind him, who was objectifying his girlfriend. Now, dont get it twisted. No one loves cat calling more than Billy Hargrove. But now that he’s a taken man things have changed. He only had heart eyes for his girl. Little Ms Emmerson was one of the first people he met in this shitty, bumble fuck town when he first moved here with his fucked up family. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet, the love of his life. She was the light to Billy’s darkness. He promised her and himself that he would protect her at all costs. And he intended to keep that promise.
Jason Carver visibly gulped at Billy’s threat, knowing that the Hargrove boy wasn’t kidding. Billy’s glare deepened and it his nose flared, almost like a bull ready to charge.
“Sorry Hargrove, didn’t see you there. Just meant to say that your girl is gorgeous.” Jason said, attempting to calm the situation.
Calling her gorgeous? Strike two.
“Yeah I know she’s fucking gorgeous Carver, I’ve got eyes. Just keep your fucking eyes on your own girlfriend and shut your fucking mouth,” and with that, Billy turned back around, eyes back on his girl as she practiced with the rest of her team.
As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned and found Billy’s eyes immediately. She smiled wide and blew him a kiss before getting into the next routine formation. Billy pretended to catch the floating kiss and brought it to his heart. One of the girls around her whispered something and Billy watched as his girl smiled and blushed, the girls around her obviously teasing her about her their relationship. Her bright eyes found his again and Billy’s swore that in that moment, he’d never felt a love stronger than that. His heart tightened in his chest and he felt like he could explode with pride.
Practice ended an hour later and Billy found himself outside, leaning on his Camaro and patiently waiting on his girl. With anyone else, Billy would have driven off, angry at having looked like a fool for waiting an hour for someone. But for his girl? Billy would wait until the end of time. The gym doors opened and the sound of a gaggle of girls made its way to Billy’s ears. He looked up, arms crossed in his denim jacket as he waited to spot her, a smirk immediately forming on his lips when he did. She locked eyes with him and said goodbye to her friends, making her way towards him with a huge smile on her face.
“Hey handsome. Thank you for waiting for me,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.
“Anything for you. Just don’t make it a habit. I barely wait for Maxine when she’s late,” he teased giving her a genuine smile, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
“That’s mean, you should wait for her more often. It’s going to get chilly soon,” she gently berated him, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Billy suppressed the shiver he felt coming on, and pulled her closer. She giggled in his arms, pressed so tightly against him, and loving every moment of it.
“I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to think about my little shit head sister right now. I want to think about you in that little uniform of yours,” he whispered against her lips, barely touching. She played along, whispering a reply against his lips as well.
“Oh? And what about my uniform?”
“Just that it’ll look way better on my bedroom floor,” he growled and closed the space between them, pressing his lips hungrily against hers. He swallowed her gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he devoured her. One of his hands slipped down to her behind, using his large palm to give her an impromptu squeeze. She squealed into the kiss and Billy laughed against her lips. When they broke apart, they were both panting.
“Woah, where did that come from?” She asked breathlessly. Billy grinned and nuzzled his nose against her again.
“What, can’t a guy show his girl just how much he’s missed her?” She smiled back at him and pulled him into a sweet embrace.
What she didn’t see, however, was Jason Carver’s car behind her as she and Billy were making out.
What’s she also didn’t see, was that while Billy was hugging her, he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin; his arm around his girl’s waist and middle finger up at Jason as he drove by, a scowl on his face.
#billy hargrove x reader insert#billy hargove imagine#Billy Hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove x reader
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"The kindest mask is usually the strangest one"
Did a little Billy Hargrove (Dacre Montgomery) study doodle! It's from that one picture of Dacre from bts pics of ST season 3. If you know you know♡
Anyways, it was super fun and relaxing to do. I need to do more of them, but of now, this is all I have for now! Hope you ENJOY!♡
#artists on tumblr#stranger things#original art#stranger things art#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove#billy hargrove imagine#billy stranger things#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargove imagine#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove x f!reader#billy hargrove flayed#flayed billy hargrove#billy hargrove fluff#digiralillustration#digital artist#digital drawing#digital painting#digital art#digital illustration#artist#my art#artwork#art#floredaqueen🖤
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Fic Recs Masterlist - Billy Hargrove
I've put together a list of Billy fics/imagines so they're easy to find! I'm so obsessed with all of these :)
Please let me know if I've tagged your story and want it removed.
Thank you to all the writers for providing such amazing words <3
FIC RECS PART 2
Imagines
Piercings and Polaroids - @thephantomofthe-internet
Club Heaven - @billys-pretty-babe
Life Guard - @writethrough
loving you - @bookshelf-dust
billy vs. the grinch - @bookshelf-dust
you wanna talk about it? - @bookshelf-dust
kids show up, and i get no kisses - @bookshelf-dust
all because of a fucking skating rink - @bookshelf-dust
god, this place is such a shit hole - @bookshelf-dust
Your Part Of My Family - @chloe-skywalker
Halloween Party - @chloe-skywalker
Heather - @thelovelylolly
i know a place - @billysbabyy *smut
At Peace - @billys-pretty-babe
Gone - @billys-pretty-babe
Better Off As Friends - @billys-pretty-babe
Happy Birthday, Baby - @billys-pretty-babe
Not freaks - @ashwhowrites
When The World Seems So Cruel - @queers-gambit *smut
Just To Ourselves - @billyhargrove-s
and I didn't like the ending - @billysbabyy
What’s ok for me - @pastel-pillows
SUPERNOVA - @billlydear
GOT A LIGHT? - @billlydear
MEDIC - @billlydear
It's Always Been You - @thegreencanary
Love is Too Simple a Word - @fics-and-quotes-andthelike
A Place to Land - @writethrough
Found You - @writethrough
starved - @starrywriting
forget - @capricornuh
I Know Better - @writethrough
As it Should Be - @waiting4inspiration
Shining Through - @sweet-villain
All Mine - @duramater97
Billy Hargrove x Reader !Panic Attack!SA! - @kennarose1108
Healing Touch - @waiting4inspiration
A Treat - @sweet-villain
You and Me - @tastefulstars
Night's like These - @billyhargrove-s
Up and Out - @queers-gambit Part 2
Billy's Girl - @thewritingofamadwoman
The Only Destination - @writethrough
Lost Things, Found Beginnings - @writethrough
One Last Goodbye - @thelovelylolly
Bodyguard - @ashwhowrites
dream - @alloftheimagines
i need my girl - @alloftheimagines
Give - @steph-speaks
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy stranger things#stranger things billy#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove imagines#billy hargrove stranger things#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove masterlist
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Billy smut where he’s mad at you for wearing a mini skirt with no panties at a party showing off his goods so when you guys get home, super rough sex and brat taming.
pussy spanking, brat taming, degrading, all the nine yards pls and thank you🫶🏻
ooooo anon I love your thoughtss (I’m so not completely normal about this 🖤) gif isn’t meant to represent skin tone of reader
The Little Black Dress
warnings: rough sex (all kinks mentioned above), enemies to lovers, jealous! Reader, jealous! Billy, choking, praise, edging, anddd that’s about it (unrealistic time period???)
You knew what you were doing when you get ready for Jason’s party. Twirling in the mirror you put on a sultry smile before laughing at your own antics, finally happy with your appearance. A short, tight, mini dress clung to your confident frame. Shrugging on a cropped cardigan you slip on your heels and check the time.
30 minutes late.
You mused.
Perfect.
What you were trying at, was a dramatic enterance and Billy Hargrove’s attention which ended after a new girl named Chrissy moved into town and completely stole your spotlight. I mean, you didn’t blame Hargrove completely. She was a gorgeous girl, but it was frankly obvious that her eyes were set somewhere else when she immediately turned him down.
It was surprising when the flirtatious advances from Billy stopped. Even though you classified each other’s relationship as ‘enemies’ you’d come accustomed to the flirting remarks he flung your way— only your way in fact— he’d stopped dating other girls a while back. You’d never be as pompous as to chalk it up to him being absolutely enraptured by you.
But he was…
Every flippant reply and every confident eye roll you gave back to Billy’s lewd attempt at flirting had him stumbling over his next words in badly concealed affection for you. You’d just refuse to see it. So, in yet another misinterpreted attempt, Billy started flirting with Chrissy in an effort to try to make you jealous. Billy knew she didn’t want him, but the first look of seething contempt on your face was worth it. But soon, when your contempt turned to ignoring him all together… Billy knew he fucked up.
And as he saw you walking in, decked out, confident and without glancing at Billy even once (sidestepping him in the process). Slinking through the crowd you grimace when you see Jason Carver motioning for you to come over. But a glance over your shoulder and the daggers that Billy was glaring into your soul made you smile widely sauntering to his scrawny form.
Before you can even reach a reasonable distance Jason whistles at you lunging out and putting an unwelcome, unsteady arm over your shoulder. “Welllll hellooo Gorgeous glad you made it !” Jason slurs to your slightly recoiling form. “I’m just peachy.” You try to purr back but your voice trembles a bit from badly hidden disgust. “Well that’s lovely, much like yourself doll.” Jason hiccups at your fake simpering giggles.
As you allow him to slip his hand down your back you smile in triumph when you see Billy pushing through the crowd. His eyes trail up your figure as he barks “Fuck off Jason. If you want to keep your head, hands the fuck off her!” The blatant possessiveness in Billy’s voice had you biting your lip in anticipation. So as Jason grumbled, knowing his place enough to walk away, you truly simper when Billy grabs you gently, yet still dominating and pulls through the crowd to the upstairs of the Carver residence.
As the door to the room closes— Jason’s room you realize in a sickening sweetness. Billy bites out “What the fuck were you playing at with Carver!” You’re somewhat stunned into silence at his scolding but manage to snark “what do you mean—“ you gasp as he grabs you roughly tilting your chin up so you’re looking at him. And before he can say anything else: “I’m not fucking yours. Why do you care?” You bat your eyelashes innocently feeling a warm heat when Billy smirks down at you.
“Really sweetheart?” Billy mumbles trailing a hand down your excited figure “Oh but you could be…” Billy whispers. You blush heavily taken aback by his forwardness. “Don’t you want to be?” He says slightly softer and you find yourself nodding. Suddenly his lips are on yours, and you find yourself asking why you didn’t kiss this infuriating boy sooner.
In a whirl of lustful kisses and groping hands you find yourself pressed on a plush king bed, pillows falling as you wrap your legs around Billy’s waist. You keen softly as Billy reaches low intent on pleasuring you through your panties. He grunts when he finds that they aren’t there. “Naughty fucking girl.” Bill sighs, lowering himself onto his forearms, caging himself around you.
You realize you’re shaking when Billy chuckles. “such a fragile thing darl’” the low rumble of Billy’s voice goes straight to your cunt. Your brows furrow in need as Billy pushes a finger inside of you. “Actin’ like a fucking slut out there but you can’t fucking take it?” Billy’s question has you writhing at the degradation. You shake your head vehemently biting your lip as Billy quirks his lip into a smirk.
You squeal loudly as he gives a sharp slap to your clit. “Jesus sweets,” Billy drawls pinning your hips open with a large hand. “Fucking dripping for me.” You jolt as Billy places another electrifying slap to your throbbing pussy.
“You know what I’m gonna fucking do sweetheart?” Billy kisses up your neck as you flounder, whimpering and gasping as you try to answer. So ever aware of your already needy state Billy rasps “I’m going to fuck you until your pretty little cunt remembers the shape of my cock.”
Your head cocks back at the vulgarity of his lewd musings. Your legs shake as Billy adds another finger to your fluttering heat. “Billy—a-ah-s’much I can’t!” Your mewls only spur Billy to thrust his fingers deeper into your cunt. “Awh baby, you think I fucking care that it hurts?” His cruel groan has you whining clinging to his bicep in an attempt for him to stop— or keep going, you didn’t know.
“fucking hell you want to cum?” Billy says index finger coming to play at your swollen clit. You nearly scream when he pulls his fingers out of your sloppy hole licking at your arousal that’s glistening on his fingers. “Taste like heaven darl’ s’a pity brats don’t get to cum.” Billy chides meanly to you. “Puh-please—ah- Billy needa c-cum!” You moan raggedly as Billy hurriedly undoes his belt, each clink of silvery metal cause a shiver to rack your body. You nearly cry as Billy fucks his length into you easily bottoming out in a smooth thrust that has your mind reeling in drunken pleasure.
“this what you needed—fucking shit your so tight- you n-needed to get dicked down huh?” You nod whining as Billy’s hand wraps oh so deliciously around your throat. The haziness making it all the more intoxicating at his bullying pace. You felt like you were coming apart at the seams. Billy’s other hand finds your hip gripping it strongly to pull you even closer to him. He needed to fuck you on his cock until you screamed.
You wail as his hips continue to piston into yours at a brutal speed, and somehow he just keeps going. Again and again hitting the spot that has you clenching around him and forgetting your own name.
“Billy—mmm—please I’m-oh- im gonna cum-f-fuck me!” Your delirious sighs punch out a responding moan from Billy, who grips your throat tighter, adding to your already immense pleasure. “Yea-gonna cum on this cock? Gonna be my good girl? About fucking time my little cumslut.” All it takes is a final roll of Billy’s hips for you to go hurtling over the edge, lips parted in a wide ‘oh’.
Overstimulated, you try to shakily scoot away from Billy’s hard thrusts but moan as he grabs your waist, biting at your neck “I never said I was fucking done darling.”
“loved the dress by the way.”
#Billy Hargrove#billy hargrove x reader smut#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargove imagine#billy Hargrove smut#billy hargove x reader#Billy Hargrove x female reader smut#billy hargrove x female!reader#stranger things smut#stranger things billy hargrove#Billy Hargrove x female smut#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove fic#Billy Hargrove my beloved#billy stranger things
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Talk Shit, Get Hit
prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader
characters are ALL aged 18 years old
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 5.4k+
note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.
warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.
PLEASE NOTE -
this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical.
this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent.
this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.
DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.
Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.
However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.
The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.
Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.
Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.
And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.
It was a match made in heaven.
Or hell.
You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.
He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.
Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.
He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.
So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.
That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.
You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.
However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.
It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.
Today simply hadn't been your day.
After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.
Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.
However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.
As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.
Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.
Keyword: most.
Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.
Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.
You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.
"The fuck you want, Brittany?"
"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"
"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."
Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."
"Excuse me?" You snapped.
"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."
You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"
"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"
"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."
"Excuse me, what?"
"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."
Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."
"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."
Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."
"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."
She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.
You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"
Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.
Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.
"FIIIIIIGHT!"
"GIRL FIGHT!"
"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"
Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.
In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"
"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"
He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"
"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "
Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.
"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"
He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).
Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.
"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.
"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.
"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "
"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"
"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.
"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"
Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"
"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.
However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"
"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.
Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.
"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.
"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"
"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."
"Might be."
"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"
"It doesn't matter, Billy."
"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."
"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."
Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"
"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."
"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"
"Well, you're not even letting me try!"
"'Cause it's redundant!"
"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"
Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."
"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"
"I told you, they approached me."
"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."
"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.
"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."
"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."
"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."
"There's no point - "
"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"
"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."
"I'd like to understand how this happened."
"It won't change anything."
"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"
You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."
"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."
Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.
"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"
You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."
"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."
"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."
"Right, okay..."
"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."
Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."
"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."
"We'll get you outta it."
"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."
"You said she swung first?"
"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."
"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."
You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."
"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."
"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."
"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."
"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"
"Nah, they'll probably find you - "
The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.
"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.
He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.
"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.
"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."
"No?"
"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."
"See? That's good, huh?"
"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."
Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."
Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."
"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."
You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."
"Something else happen?"
"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."
"You reported your mom?"
"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."
Billy frowned, "Jesus."
"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."
"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.
"What about Neil?"
"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."
"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."
Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.
When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.
You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.
"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.
"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.
"No, but I could've done more."
You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"
"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."
"What good would that do?"
"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."
"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"
"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."
"You already do, baby."
"Let me do more, princess."
"You can't fight every battle for me."
"You could let me try."
"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."
"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"
"I wouldn't know."
"Never had a boyfriend before?"
"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."
"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."
"Ain't no other choice."
"You could let me in more..."
"You're one to talk."
He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."
"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."
"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."
You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."
"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."
"You're so romantic."
"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."
You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.
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Heaven's in your eyes
This is to answer a request I received from an anonymous user a couple of months ago “Billy asks shy reader out and is protective over her”, for some reason I can't directly respond to their post still getting used to Tumblr. Sorry for taking a while to write this one. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away and turned it into a short fic, I just loved the whole concept. I’ll definitely post a part 2. Comments and constructive opinions are always appreciated 🩷
Part 1
You have always watched him from a distance.
There was something magnetic about him. Where he was, energy swirled.
You have never spoken to him. He’s something inaccessible to you. He hangs out with the popular crowd. Yet, unlike all of them, he doesn’t seem to pretend. He doesn’t show up. He naturally exudes an aura that makes him alluring. He’s not just what could be called "hot." No, he’s beautiful. When you first saw him in the school hallways, you could swear that for a second, your heart stopped. He was playing with his lighter, walking with an assured stride in the direction of his classroom with Jason Carver. He was a palette of contrasting colors that stood out in perfect harmony. His tanned face was framed by long, golden curls that almost fell over his shoulders. He looked straight ahead as he listened to the boy at his side with his red mouth stretched into a smirk that revealed white teeth. His cupid bow was dusted with stubble. It was no surprise that most of the girls looked at him with no shame, the shyest ones glancing up as soon as he passed them. That California boy did not look like a boy. He looked like a man. You could tell by the way he was built, the black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the muscular legs in his denim jeans.
You had realized that you were staring openly at him when he passed by you and, probably feeling the weight of your gaze on him, his eyes had met yours. There, something had happened inside you. His eyes were the purest blue you had ever seen. They were crystalline. But it was the long dark lashes that gave his gaze something expressive and unique. They were the embodiment of what is called a piercing gaze. It was a unique paradox: as angelic as it was rough in outline. Awakening from your enchantment, you lowered your gaze with an abrupt jerk of your head and resumed putting your books away in the locker, feeling your cheeks on fire and your heart beating wildly.
That was the only time you had even a remote semblance of contact with him.
As you rush to your English literature class a month later, rounding the corner of the hallway, the last thing you expect is to bump into him. You let out an "ouch" as you collide with his hard chest, your notes and pencil case tumbling to the ground in the chaos. It's only when you raise your eyes in a flurry of apologies that you realize who you've bumped into. You swallow, kneeling and picking up your notes hastily.
"You alright?"
"Yes. Yes." the notes slip through your shaking fingers.
His hands appear in your field of vision, and when you accidentally touch them, an electric shock almost makes you wince. He helps you pick them up, then raises to his feet and holds them to you. You thank him, thinking about what else you could say to avoid making the situation awkward. His baby blue shirt matches the color of his eyes. He’s even prettier from closer.
"Aren’t you in history class with me ?"
His question surprises you. You didn't think he would remember you. You didn't think he would notice you.
"Yes. That's right."
He holds out his hand, his heavy-lidded gaze on you. "Billy."
You shake his hand, introducing yourself. His hand is large and his grip his firm, but gentle at the same time. That touch makes your stomach tangle. You can't believe he is talking to you.
"You're new, right?" you ask. You know fully well that he arrived here a month ago. You know full well that he is from California. He probably knows that you know, but he doesn't say anything about it
"Yes. Moved here last month."
“Oh, okay. Welcome to Hawkins, then.” you say gently as you absently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Thanks.”
There’s a beat of silence, him probably waiting for you to say something else. You point at the door down the hallway, starting to walk away. “I ah, I have to go to class. Sorry.”
And you walk away, no, you scurry away, almost escaping him, feeling a pang of embarrassment as you replay the scene later in your head, regretting how abruptly you left without saying more.
You don’t cross paths with him again after that. However, you are clearly more aware of his presence during history classes even though you don’t interact again.
In recent months, you've adopted a strategy of minimizing your visibility as much as possible. It’s not always easy. That Thursday is one of the hard days. Mr. Jensen, the new history teacher, makes his way through the rows of desks, collecting permission slips signed by parents for the upcoming day trip he has organized to Indianapolis.
"Ah, I don't seem to have your permission slip yet," he inquires gently as he sees you empty-handed. "Did you forget to bring it today?"
Feeling the eyes of everyone on you, your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. You hate all of this attention on you. "I, um, I haven't been able to get it signed yet. My dad's been working double shifts, and I haven't caught him at home."
“I understand,” the teacher says, “But I need to give all the signed papers to the principal by tomorrow. Is it possibly to get it signed today? By your mother, perhaps?”
Before you could answer, Tommy Hagan's voice pierces the air, his tone laced with mockery. "She's probably halfway across the country by now, cozying up with some other guy."
You don’t even turn to look at him. You saw it coming. It’s been five months since she left now. Hawkins is a small town, so the news spread quickly. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact with your classmates as you feel the weight of their curious gazes.
"I uh...I just," you try to ignore Tommy's comment, resting your eyes on the professor whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell my dad tonight. He's just been really busy. I will bring it to class tomorrow."
“If he comes back with the milk.” snickers Tommy.
You stiffen instantly without wanting to, which the teacher doesn’t fail to notice.
“That's enough, Mr. Hagan. Comments like that have no place in my classroom.” he snaps as his eyes darken, his jaw set. His expression softens as he turns to me “Don't worry about the permission slip for now. We'll make sure you're included."
As the professor returns to his seat, your eyes remain fixed on the spot where the bench is chipped, absently touching it with your fingernail. Your body fails to relax as you fight to ignore the burning in your throat, careful not to blink, your vision blurred for a few moments. But Tommy's yelp draws your attention and you turn your head to your left, where he is sitting next to Billy.
“Ow. What was that for, man?”
Tommy is rubbing his shoulder, his face scrunched up in pain and a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face. Billy stares straight ahead, his face cold and hard.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he eventually mutters under the teacher’s explanation. However, it sounds more like a statement than a question.
As you go back to stare at your desk, your throat is still burning but your vision is clear again. You wonder if what Billy said was because of Tommy's comments. Why would he defend you?
The rest of the class passes in a blur of confusion and unanswered questions. Tommy's hurtful words echo in your mind, leaving you shaken and upset, the sting of their cruelty lingering long after the bell rings.
***
On the morning of the school trip, you are tempted to call the school and say you are sick, but your father comes back from the plant later in the morning and will see that you are actually fine. Also, Mr. Jensen might suspect that something is going on. Only, the idea of spending the day with the whole class, but feeling more alone than you are when you're at school, doesn't appeal to you. You've never been very outgoing. Since your mother left, the armor that covered you has only thickened, alienating you from the rest of the world. To this day you have received no answers. She left overnight without warning. You never received a call. You knew that things had not been going well between your parents for some time. Or rather, your mother kept complaining about how being in Hawkins was suffocating her, how she was no longer happy. The pain was slowly becoming coated with resentment. She had abandoned you and your father as if nothing had happened, as if years of living together had counted for nothing. As if being a family had cost nothing. Arriving on the ground floor and finding the kitchen light off had now become a habit, not an odd occurrence. Other things had become routine: the unaccustomed silence in your house, the TV once perpetually on now always off, the teapot once always in use was now in the kitchen drawer.
Once on the school bus, you spend your time looking out the window and counting the trees on the distant hills. You can feel the wind blowing outside, the rain pelting cruelly on the window. A crack lets a trickle of air through, making you shiver and clench tighter in your jacket. The ride at least passes quietly, no one talking to you or bothering you. Tommy Hagan keeps his comments to himself, too busy jabbering in the back of the bus with his band of friends. You can hear the occasional shrillness in the voice of Carol Perkins, his girlfriend.
You spend almost the entire morning in the Indiana Historical Society, following the professor through the corridors of the museum. You stay in the background, drowning out the guide's voice and looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. As you change rooms, you realize that you are not the only one who has remained aloof. Billy Hargrove lingers to your side at the back of the row of students, his hands tucked into his leather jacket. You try not to be affected by his presence, suddenly self-conscious of the way you walk and breathe. You still remember what he told Tommy Hagan the week before. You are increasingly convinced that he defended you. As the class spreads in different directions, everyone observing something different and speaking lowly in small groups you realize he’s still here, on your side. As you ponder if you should say something, or just assume that he’s walking behind on his own, he catches you off guard.
“Kinda boring, huh?”
“Yeah, a little," you respond, offering him a small smile that probably looks like a grimace. "History isn't my cup of tea."
“Mine neither,” his gaze scans the display cases lining the wall on your left. “Beats being seated all day in class, though.”
“Definitely,” you nod in agreement as you slowly cross through another room. Desperately trying to fill the silence, you come up with the first thing that crosses your mind. “I’ve been here before.”
“The museum?”
“Indianapolis,” you say. You hesitate before finishing your thoughts. “My grandma lived here. I spent some weekends at hers.”
Billy hums. He sniffs, then retrieves some chewing gums from his back pocket. He unwraps one. “How’s the city?”
“It’s great. Oh, thank you.” you softly say as you take the gum he’s offering you. “There are some nice parks.”
He pops the chewing gum in his mouth. “We have quite a few in San Diego too.
You turn toward him, curiosity overcoming your shyness. “You lived in San Diego?”
“Yes. Big change of scenery.”
“I can imagine.” your gaze wanders to the antique objects displayed in a glass case. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks incredible.” memories of your dad's album, from when he was young, flood your mind – images of palm trees swaying in the breeze, golden beaches stretching for miles, and endless blue skies that seemed to merge seamlessly with the ocean.
“That’s something else, yeah. Honestly, I couldn’t complain at all.”
“I wish I could see California,” you say a little dreamily.
“I can take you one day.”
Your throat feels suddenly dry. So you let out a nervous giggle, avoiding his gaze, assuming he is joking. Fortunately, the professor calls your attention back. It's lunchtime and he tells you that you are free to go wherever you want, as long as you are outside the museum within four hours. You told your father the school would pay for the student's lunch because you know times are tough. He insisted on giving you ten dollars in case you need it.
You walk down the steps of the museum looking around and thinking about where you could make all this time go. It's going to be long. You know a few restaurants, but you know that your pocket money is clearly not enough to eat there. A gust of wind brings the smell of smoke to your nostrils, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy stop beside you. His eyes take in your surroundings.
“So, you told me you know the city.”
“Huh, yes,” you answer, a little lost. “Not all of it, but most of it, like downtown.”
Billy exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth. “Are we downtown?”
You look around, recognizing the skyscrapers in the distance. "Yes," you point to the skyline to your right, figuring he simply wants to ask you for information so he knows where to go with his friends. "It's over there."
“Sweet. Are you hungry?”
The silence that passes between the two of you makes him turn toward you, waiting for your response. So you rush to answer, ignoring the way his piercing blue eyes make you feel self-conscious.
“Yes. Yes, a little bit,” then you ask him, unsure: “...and you?”
“Starving.” he resumes walking down the stairs again, and you follow him, trying to figure out if he really means what you think he means. Some classmates are already leaving in different directions. “You know someplace to eat?”
“I do. But I don’t have enough. In case you want to go together. If that’s what you were offering.” You add, mentally slapping yourself. Why does everything you say have to come across as weird? Besides, you just admitted that you are practically out of money. “I can show you, though.”
Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll pay.”
“No, really, I can't let you do that," you insist, your voice tinged with concern. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I can't just let you pay for me."
Billy turns to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he exhales the smoke sideways. "Come on, it's no big deal," he reassures you. "Consider it my way of saying thanks for showing me around. Besides, it's not like I'm short on cash."
You hesitate for a moment. But ultimately, you know that accepting his offer would ease the burden on your wallet. With a resigned sigh, you nod in agreement. "Okay, if you insist," you concede, offering him a small smile. "But just this once.”
You wanna immediately grimace at your pathetic implication that there would be another time, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice anyway.
He just winks at you. It makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way. I'm starving."
As you walk beside each other through the park later on, you relish in what surrounds you, not even realizing the silence that has settled between the two of you because it feels so natural. Some people are jogging, there are some families too, or people walking alone headed who knows where. The birds are chirping in the trees that are alongside the walk. You spot a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of one of them, its fluffy tail waving wildly. The late afternoon sun is shining right in front of you, hitting your skin in a gentle caress. Spring is gradually unfurling its colors, bringing with it a glimmer of warmth that has been absent from your life lately. In the midst of the cold and desolation that settled in after your mother's departure, this glimpse of light offers a tentative promise of renewal, a small beacon of hope amid the darkness that has enveloped you and your father. You glance at Billy, realizing that in the short span of your conversation, he's frequently reached for a cigarette. Yet, even during the moments when he abstained, like in the museum and at the restaurant, his mouth was never empty. It was either occupied by a mint, a bite of burger, the straw of his milkshake, or eventually a toothpick found on the table.
“So, uhm, have you been somewhere else besides San Diego or Hawkins?” you venture.
“Nope”, he answers, the “p” resounding loudly. He looks around, one hand in his jacket pocket as the other one holds the cigarette on his side. “Never moved from Cali. I was born in Santa Barbara. Then moved to San Diego when I was ten.”
You hum in acknowledgment. “Is Santa Barbara close to the ocean?”
“It is. I have always lived by the ocean.”
You turn to him, enthusiasm laced in your voice as you get carried away in the conversation. “So you know how to surf?”
Billy chuckles, nodding as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “I do, yeah. Surfed every day.”
“Wow.” you breathe, your mind wandering away. “It must be…like an adrenaline rush.”
As Billy exhales the smoke, you don’t miss the nostalgic glint flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, it's something else. There's nothing quite like catching a wave, feeling the power of the ocean beneath you."
“I’ve heard it’s hard to learn.” you muse softly.
The rhythmic sound of your footsteps punctuates the conversation. Billy stays silent for a few seconds, probably lost in his thoughts. Then he shrugs. “To be honest, I was on the surfboard since I was a child, so must’ve been natural for me. But yeah, it generally is.
“I can only imagine," you respond, a sense of longing in your voice. You’ve only seen this kind of landscape in pictures or on TV. "Must have been amazing growing up with that kind of freedom."
Billy's sigh is loud as he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It was. Surfing was my escape, you know? Whenever things got tough, I could just grab my board and disappear into the waves."
What he says lightens some curiosity in you. You wonder what he means by that. You wonder what he went through, what his past was like. There’s something really intriguing about him. But you refrain from asking more, aware of how little you know each other. Besides, you can’t help but notice the little twitch of his jaw muscles as he says it.
"For me, it's always been books.” you offer. “They have this way of transporting you to another world, making you forget about everything else."
Billy nods in understanding. “What kinda books do you read?”
“Oh,” you look at your shoes as you feel suddenly vulnerable. You almost feel ashamed of your taste in books, but you know you shouldn’t. “A bit of everything, really. I’m reading a Dostoevsky one right now.
“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff,” he says, arching an eyebrow.
“You’ve read some of him before?
“I read Dream of a Ridiculous Man. A long time ago though.”
“Oh,” you breathe, recalling how challenging it was to finish it when you read it a couple of months ago. Reading books by Dostoevsky, especially that one, has been both a cathartic and enlightening experience. They made you feel less alone in your pain. “Did you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s kinda controversial.” he grimaces. “It’s a fucking depressing book. But... it's like... there's something about it that just... resonates, you know? Like, you read it and... it's like looking into a mirror, but... the reflection's all twisted and weird. I don't know if that makes any sense.” he shrugs.
It couldn’t make more any sense to you. For the first time, you feel understood in that sense. It's a relief to know that you're not alone in finding meaning within its pages. His words resonate deeply with you.
“I totally get it. That’s part of the reason why I like his books.”
The subtle revelation hangs in the air with the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the concrete path. You hope he’s not reflecting on your words too much, aware of what you’ve implied. Your own thoughts go on what he said. Why did Billy resonate so much with the book? What if there’s something everybody can relate to, even people who haven’t experienced anything bad in life?
“What about you?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”
“Born and raised.” you nod. Then you add, a bit sheepishly: “Nothing like California, unfortunately.”
Billy snorts, flicking his cigarette. “What’s there to do in summer?”
“Oh uh. Nothing much. We have a public pool.” you offer, looking at him.
Billy takes a drag, his eyes trailing on the path in front of both of you.
“We have Lover’s Lake too,” you add. “It’s quite nice, actually. People spend the day there and have barbecues or campfires.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about that one,” he says. “That you guys party by the lake during summer or something like that.”
“Yes.” then you keep quiet for a few breaths, imagining he’s probably heard it from one of his friends from the basketball team. They’re usually to host parties or organize them. It always involves loads of alcohol and ends up in big scandals. You feel the urge to correct him. “Not me, though. I don’t, uh…I don’t party.”
You feel his eyes on you. “Makes sense.”
You look up at him in question.
“Didn’t see you at the Halloween party.”
“The one hosted by Tina Williams?” you soon look away as soon as you meet his gaze. “I didn’t know you…you noticed.”
“Would’ve noticed if you were there.”
As Billy's words settle in, you feel a warmth spreading through you, starting from the tips of your ears and flushing your cheeks crimson. His simple compliment catches you off guard, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within you. You find yourself struggling to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering away as you search for some semblance of composure. None of this makes sense. The mere fact that he recognized your absence at the party, that he shared lunch with you, that he's now walking beside you in the park—it all feels inexplicable. You're accustomed to blending into the background, being an outcast in the bustling halls of the school. You're no stranger to the whispers that swirl around you, painting you as the outsider, the comments about your situation at home, the subtle jabs at your circumstances. The silence between you stretches, pregnant with unspoken thoughts.
“You’re alright?” you hear him ask.
You slow down, lingering to a stop as you realize Billy has stopped walking too. He looks down at you with a hint of curiosity, the sun caressing his golden skin and reflecting in his eyes, becoming like polished, crystalline gems. That’s when you notice little details you haven’t paid attention to before. The scar cutting through his right eyebrow, the pattern of freckles dusting his nose.
“I guess I’m just a little confused,” you admit.
Billy exhales the smoke from his nostrils, his gaze effortlessly fixed intensely on you. “Why is that?”
“I just…” you try to not avoid his gaze. “Why are you here with me?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and what looks like genuine confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
His question is so simple it takes you off guard. Makes you question your reasoning. As you’re at a loss for words, you feel a blush slowly creeping down your cheeks.
Billy’s lips slowly curve into a smile, somewhat teasing. “You really have pretty eyes, you know that?”
You’re positively sure you’re as red as a lobster now, a little whine escaping your lips as embarrassment settles over you. It’s the most instinctual reaction. It makes him chuckle, and makes you awkwardly laugh in response, because what else can you do? He tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your avoiding eyes.
“How about that? I’m here with you ‘cause of your pretty eyes”.
“I really don’t think they’re that special.” you shake your head, still laughing.
You’re not that innocent to not realise he’s openly flirting with you. You’re not surprised, because just looking at him is enough. You’ve also heard things about him and some girls at high school. What surprises you, is that he’s flirting with you. You don’t have that much experience in the love department, but there’s something sincere and genuine in the way he’s doing it now. There’s something soft in his eyes that tells you he’s sincere.
“Well, it’s a shame,” he says, that’s when you realise how much closer you are to each other. You can tell by how you can smell the tobacco and his cologne, his silver earring shining as it catches the sun. He tilts his head again, this time catching your gaze as you muster the courage to lock eyes with him. “’Cause you have beautiful eyes.”
“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, nodding your head slightly. You swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.
You feel like you want to return the compliment because his eyes are the reason why your heart is reacting the way it does. But then again, you’re too shy to do that, and a tiny part of you thinks it would make things weird or would end up having you vulnerable because you don’t know for sure if his compliment is fueled by real interest in you.
“I don’t waste my time with people if I don’t think they’re worth it either, trust me.”
As a distant church bells toll four times, their echoes drifting across the park, a subtle reminder of the passing time washes over you both. The realization settles in that it’s time for you to go. You should be back in front of the museum in half an hour.
Luckily, Billy saves you from answering as he breaks eye contact and looks up beyond your shoulder, where the church is. “We should go,” he says.
As you walk back to the museum, you think about his words. Now you realize that you didn’t see him hanging around Tommy Hagan lately. In particular, today on the bus, the latter was seated with his girlfriend and hung out with two other members of the basketball team. Billy was somewhere else the whole time.
When you two reach the museum, the teacher is already counting everyone to make sure the whole class is there. Billy joins his mates, elbowing one of them in a friendly gesture. You didn’t fail the notice the looks most of your classmates shot at you when he saw you two arrive together. The teacher draws the class's attention back to the trip, prompting feedback and reflections from everyone.
What you don’t expect either once on the bus, is feeling someone sitting on the empty seat next to yours. Billy gets comfortable, making it seem something so normal as he stretches his long legs as far as the cramped quarters allow. His thigh brushes against yours and your heart jumps a little in your ribcage, but a few minutes later you start to relax. You can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest as you take in his choice to sit deliberately next to you. You don’t need to fill the silence, or at least not as strongly as a few hours ago. You’re also quite tired. As you venture a glance in his direction, Billy’s eyes are closed. It seems you’re not the only one feeling tired. His arms are crossed over his chest but his facial features are totally relaxed now that he’s dozing off, his head resting against the seat. His hair seems soft at the touch, a curl falling unruly on his forehead. You feel the distant urge to wrap it around your finger, brush it from his face. There is a difference between now and when he’s fully awake: his expression softened, his gaze peaceful, and his features relaxed. It's a stark contrast from the demeanor you've observed from a distance, where his smile is more wolfish, his facial muscles tense, and his eyes often distant or bored. You force yourself to look away from him, setting your gaze on the window. As the rhythmic hum of the bus lulls you into a state of drowsiness, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the moment envelops you, and soon, you find yourself dozing off as well.
Once you get off the bus, you wrap your arms around your waist as you shiver. The weather is distinctly different. It seems to have been raining all day. The sky is darkening. School buses cannot take you home because there is no bus stop near your house. Forest Hill Trailer Park is in the isolated part of Hawkins. There is no one from the high school living there, so you can't ask anyone for a ride. It's not like anyone would have offered anyway. You've always walked to and from school, in total it takes you forty minutes. As you start to walk away from the bus, you hear footsteps behind you and Billy is at your side, effortlessly catching up with you. You realize his car is parked a few steps away from you. The gleaming navy blue Camaro stands out among the other cars, "CALIFORNIA" on the license plate.
You take the opportunity to thank him before he can dart away and you will probably never exchange another word again.
“Hey,” you start, turning to look at him. “I just wanted to thank you for paying at lunch today.”
Billy plays with the lighter, making it bounce in his hand. “It’s nothing. How are you getting home?”
“Oh, I’m walking.” you point your thumb at the road on your left.
“Come on. I’ll drive you.”
Your mouth opens and closes stupidly, then your brain finally decides to cooperate. Accepting his offer feels like taking advantage of his kindness. You don't want to do this. “I…it’s not a long walk, don’t worry about it.”
“It’s probably gonna rain again soon.” he points at the sky, walking past you and toward the parked car.
“You don’t have to.” you insist, guilt filling my stomach as he opens the passenger door for you.
“I know.” he chuckles.
The soft thrumming of a rock song fills the air, the bass pulsing gently as Billy lowers the volume as soon as he turns the engine on. The interior of the Camaro envelops you in a world that feels distinctly his. The smell of leather fills your senses, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne. It's clear that he takes immense pride in his car and the care and attention he devotes to it reflects on the interior. The leather seats feel soft and smooth. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corners. A pair of aviators rests on the dashboard.
You give him directions, your voice cutting through the quiet ambiance of the car. He nods in acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the road ahead. His left arm casually drapes against the window, while his other hand firmly grasps the top of the steering wheel.
“It’s quite a walk,” he observes as the Camaro speeds through the road surrounded by the woods.
“Yeah…”
You’re thinking of asking him to stop before getting to Forest Hill, but it’s pouring and you don’t have an umbrella. As you get closer and closer, anxiety starts rippling through you. You shake the feeling out of your head. You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Additionally, you barely know him. You try and distract yourself, asking him about where he lives instead.
“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?”
“Yes, it’s a nice and quiet area. It’s not that far from school either,” you observe.
Billy absently scratches his chin, the glint of a silver braided ring catching your eye. “Yeah. It’s quiet, that’s for sure.”
You find yourself wondering about its significance. Does it have one? You've heard numerous accounts of Billy's involvement in fights at parties, tales of the severe injuries sustained by those who crossed him, and the ferocity of his punches. How many times has that ring been tainted with someone else's blood? Despite the rumors surrounding his aggressive behavior, your interactions with Billy have always been positive. He's consistently shown kindness to you.
Billy turns left, veering off the main road onto a narrow side road, the tires crunching on the gravelly dirt path that winds its way towards Forest Hills. The rain drums insistently against the car, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence between you.
The first trailer emerges into view, its weather-beaten exterior casting a shadow of foreboding over your already uneasy mind. Despite your discomfort, you muster the courage to speak up, directing Billy to continue driving until the end of the road.
You steal a furtive glance at him, searching for any hint of judgment in his expression, but Billy remains impassive. There's no trace of surprise or disdain in his features. His gaze lingers on the scene before you, studying it with a detached curiosity that seems to characterize his view of Hawkins as a whole.
“Thanks again for today, really. I wanna pay you back,” you venture as he slows down.
Billy waves a dismissive hand before settling it on the gear shift, smoothly transitioning into first gear. “I told you it’s no big deal. Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
You worry at your lip, still not totally convinced. You glance at him. “I know that. But it doesn’t sound fair. It’s important to me.”
Billy's gaze shifts to the road ahead as he seemingly considers your words. "If you really wanna make it up to me," he starts, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continues, "How about you show me around Hawkins sometime?"
You blink, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Show you around Hawkins?"
"Yeah," he nods, resting his forearm loosely on the steering wheel as he gestures while he talks. "I've only been here a short while, and I don't really know my way around outside downtown yet. Like, all the places you talked to me about. The lake, the quarry."
The idea appeals to you, though the thought of spending more time with him outside of school never crossed your mind. The fact of spending time with him in the first place was out off the charts for you. "Sure, I could do that," you reply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I mean, I'm not exactly a tour guide, but I could show you some cool spots. Whenever you want, uhm. Yeah.”
Billy reaches out to the compartment on the passenger side, brushing your knee with his arm. He opens it and extracts a pen.
“Here,” he takes off the cap with his teeth, and before you know it he’s taking your arm, gently lifting your sweater sleeve.
You try to look unfazed by his touch, though the feeling of his fingertips pressing gently against your skin as he holds your forearm, the sensation of the pen as he writes something on it makes you shiver, raising goosebumps. You look at him in silent confusion as he writes, his dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sharp canine as he holds the cap between them. Then he releases your arm, and you take a look at it while he takes the cap from his mouth. A series of numbers are written in blue ink on your skin. A phone number.
“Oh.” you say softly. You definitely haven’t expected that.
“Call me when you feel like it.”
It’s really hard for you to hide your nervousness, acting as cool as you can.
“Okay, will do.” you unbuckle your belt, glancing at him enough to give him a soft smile.
Billy nods at you in silent farewell before you close the passenger door. “Have a good night”.
“You too. Bye.”
The warmth of Billy's presence lingers in the car as you step out into the cool, damp air, the raindrops falling softly around you. Closing the door behind you, you watch as the sleek navy blue Camaro disappears down the little road and into the woods from the small window of the living room. As you stand there, the drops of water falling from the end of your hair, you can't help but brush at the phone number on your forearm, tracing the neat handwriting with your fingertips. It's like you're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. Though you're trying to keep it under control, you can't help the fluttering feeling in your heart.
#billy hargove imagine#billy hargove smut#billy hargrove#dacre montgomery#billy hargove x reader#stranger things fic#billy hargrove x oc#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove imagine#dacryphilia#eddie munson#billy hargrove x y/n#billy stranger things#billy hargrove x you#stranger things smut
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A Place to Land
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You told Billy you love him. And he knows it's time to break up with you.
Warnings: Minor language (I don't think I use the F word), angst to fluff, insecure Billy, drunk Billy
Word Count: 3495
A/N: I'm actually really proud of this one. I think I fixed what was bugging me about it a few weeks ago. Please let me know what you think! I also recognize this is not one of the requests I have in my ask box. I will get to those, but I am weak to the little gremlins controlling my hyper-fixations.
The day Billy realized he loved you, he knew he had to leave. It was only a matter of time before you broke up with him. He felt it when he woke up from nightmares, and you held him.
He felt it if he wanted to leave a party early because the crowds reminded him of how claustrophobic his mind felt under the Mind Flayer’s influence—he thought your frown was annoyance.
Your look of pity each time he didn’t answer you because he flashed back to that time killed him.
Before the Mind Flayer, he wondered why you agreed to that initial date with him. He was an asshole—so angry at everything. Angry at himself. What did you even see in him?
Your date had to be one of his favorite memories. He took you to see The Goonies, bought popcorn to share, and when he took your chin and turned you to kiss him, you waved him off after the third one. He would’ve been irritated; any other girl and he’d have considered the night a bust, but you were so invested in the screen that he couldn’t help his lips turning up. He wasn’t sure you realized you grabbed his hand at one point in your excitement at the film. Neither of you pulled away until it was over to gather your things. He had thrown an arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. And when you asked if he wanted to go to the diner down the street, a little jump in his stomach made him say “yes.”
It felt…nice…that someone wanted to spend time with him. Maybe he was interesting enough without sex.
He’d never laughed as hard as he did that night. You were funny and kind, sweet and smart—and dammit—the way you smiled at him? You were so goddamn beautiful. He was hooked.
Now, after the Mind Flayer—after he found out this wasn’t your first time dealing with that creature—he knew he loved you. He felt the beginning of it that first night. And that meant you would hurt him. That meant you would leave.
Exactly like his mom had.
But Billy was a coward.
The day he had decided to end it, he kept pushing it back. He had picked you up, and you smiled, and he thought, “Tomorrow.”
You were in the middle of a date, sitting across from one another, and he had imagined that smile turning into a sneer. He had been so close to blurting it out. Then, you giggled and intertwined your fingers with his.
Then, Steve invited everyone over for a BBQ. He had tackled you into the pool, and when you both emerged, you laughed and splashed him. He warned you with the biggest smile, and you started swimming to the other end of the pool.
Billy watched it all. And he felt sick.
It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t angry enough to be jealousy. It was like confirmation. One day, you could have this when you were no longer tied to him. If it was happening now, then it’d happen in the future.
He had to break up with you.
No matter how much it’d kill him.
—
He pulled in front of your house, barely getting out of the car before you were bounding toward him.
You were so excited to see him that you couldn’t even wait for him to reach the door.
He shook his head slightly. He had to do this, had to beat you to the punch.
“Hey, Billy! How are—”
“We need to talk,” he said, avoiding your eyes.
“Oh? What about?” You tilted your head, scanning over his tense posture.
He let out a slow breath. Just rip the bandaid off.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
“What?” Had you heard him correctly?
“I’m breaking up with you,” he repeated, jaw clenched.
You took a tentative step forward.
“Billy, I—what do you mean? Are you okay?”
It didn’t make sense. You were attached at the hip yesterday; Billy couldn’t keep his hands off you, and now he wanted to break up?
What the hell was going on?
He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets to hide his whitening knuckles. He didn’t trust himself to not grab hold of you.
“I mean, it’s over. I don’t love you.”
You furrowed your brow, inhaling shakily. “I love you, Billy. I’ve been telling you for weeks now. I know you haven’t said it yet, but that’s okay! I’d never pressure you into—”
He had to cut you off if he was gonna get through this.
“And I’ve realized I don’t love you. What? You gonna make me stay with you?” He wished he could get through this without looking at you, but then you wouldn’t believe him.
You’d be okay. You may hate him now, but you’d move on. And he’d never have to know the pain of you leaving him—of you having an everlasting disdain for him. This hate would only be temporary.
“...You know I won’t,” you whispered. “I’d never force you to do anything.”
He'd had enough of that his entire life.
He nodded. “Then I guess we’re over.”
He turned to walk back to the driver’s side, pulling the door open with more force than needed.
“I don’t believe you.” You managed to get out before he got in.
He stopped. His hand was on the car's roof but didn’t look up.
It gave you a bit of hope.
“I don’t believe that you don’t love me. I see it every time you look at me.” You sniffled. “I know you, Billy. You never would’ve been with me for this long—through all this shit—if you didn’t love me.” You wiped at your tears. “But if this is what you need to do, then I guess you have to do it. And I’ll still love you. That’s never going to change.” You took in a shaky breath. “So, when you’re ready, I’ll be here. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”
He didn’t know how you could read his mind. But it had always been like that. You could anticipate what he needed before even he knew.
He wanted to run to you, to scoop you into his arms and apologize, but that nagging in his head wouldn’t stop. The image of you and Steve smiling and laughing. That phone call with his mother—Billy begging her to take him, too.
It felt like you confessed to him just yesterday—that warm feeling in his chest froze over.
You’d leave him eventually. Even if you didn’t think you would, he’d do something to change that. He’d ruin the best relationship he ever had, and then you’d be gone.
He blinked rapidly, getting into his car and speeding away. But not before glancing in his rearview to see the tear tracks streaming down your face.
—
It had been three weeks since Billy broke up with you, and every day your chest seemed to hurt worse. You had spent the first few days hopeful, convincing yourself Billy would be at your door any moment to apologize and explain why he did what he did. It didn’t fully sink in until the fourth day that he was serious.
You had arguments, of course, but Billy was always quick to remedy the situation. He didn’t like when you were angry with him. He said it put a pit in his gut because it reminded him of his anger toward his father. Even if it wasn’t nearly the same thing, Billy still hated the idea that you could ever loathe him that much.
But you didn’t hate him—could never hate him. You just wanted him back, but you didn’t know how to do that. You had called but either gotten Max or nothing at all. You had driven by several times, but Max and Billy weren't home, or he ignored you because—of course—he could tell it was you by your knock.
By week two, you were almost positive you had done something to him. However, you had no idea what. You played through every moment you spent with Billy, and the closest thing you could come up with was that you were a bit clingy. And even when you asked Billy about it, he said he liked it!
That was a few months ago, and he wasn't one to hold his tongue if something bothered him. It was one thing you loved about him. Even though it may come off as harsh—which he was working on—nothing ever festered with him. There was no chance of growing regrets.
You had barely gotten any sleep the past few weeks.
Lying in bed in one of Billy’s shirts, you tried to take your mind off everything with a book when the phone rang.
You sighed but got up to answer anyway. At this hour, it was either Robin or Steve.
“Hello?”
You waited a moment, no one speaking, and then a deep breath came through.
“(Y/N)?”
“Max?” You furrowed your brow. “Is everything okay?”
You’d spoken to her plenty since your break up, but she had never called you after ten. You gripped the phone tighter, ready to listen to anything she had to say, and hoped she was alright.
“I don’t…It’s Billy.” She waited for your response, and when you didn’t give one because of your surprise, she continued, “He’s been drinking a lot since your…since you know…and I’m worried. This is the worst it’s ever been, and I…I don’t know what to do.” She let out a shaky breath. “Can you please come over? I think he needs you.”
Your heart was in your throat. Part of you wanted to refuse. Billy ended things. There was no way he wanted to see you.
But the selfish part of you wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay, to maybe get some answers out of his inebriated state. Even if you didn’t want to hear them. So, you told her you’d be over soon. Not bothering to change, you threw on shorts and shoes and grabbed your keys.
—
You didn’t know what to expect when you arrived. Billy could hold his alcohol, but you didn’t know what frame of mind he was in. The fact that Max called you to begin with set you on edge.
You barely knocked on the door before Max ripped it open.
“Hey.” Her mouth pinched. “He’s in his room. He was…He turned off the music ten minutes ago. I’m not sure what he’s doing.”
You nodded. “...You said he’s been doing this since we…since he—”
“Yeah, I’m not sure what to do anymore,” she said.
You placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll try to figure out what’s going on.”
You weren’t sure if you knocked or not on Billy’s door. The thumping of your heart drowned out the taps.
His slurred “go ‘way, Max” made it nearly stop. Just how long had he been like this?
“It’s me, Billy.”
He opened the door faster than Max, eyes wide as he took you in, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were here.
“(Y/N)?”
The glassiness of his eyes made you want to pull him close and tell him everything would be okay. That whatever was going on in his head, you could face together.
“Is s’tha’ really you?” His knuckles brushed your cheek, testing to see if this was another daydream. And when he made contact, he breathed, “I miss s’you.”
Your nose tingled. “I miss you, too, Billy.”
A singular tear slipped down his face as he cupped yours.
“Hey,” you cooed. “It’s okay.” You wiped it away. “Everything’s okay.”
He shook his head adamantly. “I’m sorry. M'sorry…sorry…”
His shoulders shook, and he could no longer look at you, head hanging low.
You hushed him softly as you led him back into his room and closed the door. His apologies continued until you sat on his bed and pulled his head into your neck.
You brushed through his curls and blinked back your own tears. Never had you seen Billy like this.
He had gotten better at telling you what he felt but still kept a lot to himself. This…This was a sadness you couldn’t handle seeing in him. You wanted nothing more than to take it away—fix it—so you could see that brilliant smile again.
“I lo’you.” He burrowed further into you. “Love you.”
They were quiet confessions, but they held so much conflict.
You were relieved, almost ecstatic, but he was drunk. It might just be because you were here, comforting him.
In any other scenario, you’d be the happiest person alive. However, with every “I love you,” a knife seemed to lodge into your heart.
“I love you, too,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Everything’s okay. I forgive you.”
He squeezed you tighter in response. All he wanted was to be closer to you. Like that could erase what he had done.
With another kiss, you gently guided him away so you could meet his gaze.
“Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?” You tucked a stray curl behind his ear, and he nodded. It seemed he was content to do whatever you said.
You helped switch his shirt to a clean one and handed him a pair of boxers, covering your eyes when he didn’t hesitate to remove the ones he wore.
“How’s that feel? A little better,” you asked, combing through his hair with your fingers.
He hummed, leaning in.
“Good,” you said. “I’m gonna get you some water and aspirin for tomorrow.”
When you went to pull away, his hand shot up to grip yours.
“Please,” his eyes were near watery, “please, don’t leave me.”
Maybe you were imagining it, but his plea felt like it held so much weight.
He was asking you to stay with him, to sleep beside him so he wouldn’t feel so vulnerable in an already vulnerable state. But it also felt like he was asking you to not walk away from him. That even though he broke up with you, he regretted it. And hoped you would want him back, accept him and all his mistakes. All his flaws.
Either way, the answer was the same.
“I’ll always be right here, Billy.” You squeezed his hand. “You get settled, and I’ll be right back.”
He slowly nodded, letting your hand slip from his.
And when you came back, Billy was on his side, facing the door, a space for you wide open.
Once you got in, he nuzzled into your chest, arms securely around you.
“Love you,” he mumbled, already half asleep.
“Love you, too,” you whispered, heart in your throat.
—
There were three blissful seconds of peace, of the comfort of an arm wrapped around your waist when you woke up. Then last night flooded back.
Billy drunk.
Him crying.
And saying he loved you.
And you had said it back even though you were afraid the next day would bring you more hurt.
He might not remember.
Or worse, he might not have meant it.
Looking up at the peaceful expression on his face pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.
He’d feel like shit today, so the least you could do was make him breakfast and ensure he was alright.
You had managed to switch positions throughout the night. He had held you like always.
You carefully slipped out and into the kitchen. And as you worked, you prepared for the worst.
—
The ache in his chest might’ve been worse than the one in his head. The sun hurt his eyes, and the cold spot beside him bit at his torso.
You had been there.
He couldn’t remember all of last night. But you had been standing outside his door. And the smell of your shampoo clung to his sheets anew. Back where it belonged. The day it had worn off, he had buried his face in his pillow, desperate for one part of you to still be with him.
But you weren’t here anymore.
He swallowed the aspirin, wondering if Max had put it there. Maybe she took pity on him and was making him breakfast.
The bacon made his mouth water. He just hoped she wouldn’t want him to open up about last night. He didn’t want to relive it, especially when you had left before he woke up.
He dragged his feet in the hallway, one hand grazing the wall with the other rubbing his eyes.
He would've plopped down at the table. He would’ve tucked his head in his arms and maybe drifted in and out until Max nudged him. Instead, he stopped and stared.
You were still here.
His heavy steps must have alerted you because you glanced over your shoulder and gave him a small smile.
“Morning,” you said softly.
“Hi,” he said, blinking once, then again.
You motioned for him to sit at the table, and he did without another word.
You hadn’t left him.
After placing some food down, you sat across from him.
He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t even sure he was awake right now. After everything he put you through, you stayed.
His mind was still foggy. Add that to the thoughts racing through it, and he didn’t know where to start. Thankfully, you spoke first.
“I miss you,” you whispered, hands folded atop the table.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I miss you, too.”
Without his notice, his hand had sought yours out, his fingers sneaking underneath to trace your palm. “I miss you so much.”
Your answering squeeze was like a switch—it made things brighter.
“I’m right here,” you said.
He nodded, not even trying to keep the smile at bay.
He believed you. Last night was proof. He was at one of his lowest points, and you had shown up—you had stayed.
Still, the smallest part of him had to hear you say it.
“Promise?” He locked eyes with you, pleading.
You took his hand in both of yours. “I promise,” you said. “I love you.”
He let out a disbelieving laugh. “I love you, too.”
You brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles, and he could feel your smile against his skin.
He needed you closer.
Tugging at you, he muttered a “come here,” guiding you onto his lap and pushing his nose into your neck, breathing into you. “I love you so much.”
You said it back, running a hand through his messy curls, then trailing your thumbs around his ears down to his jaw, holding him gently so you could kiss him. You wanted to savor every second of this. You had a lot to discuss, but right now? You just wanted to be with him.
His grip tightened as he returned the kiss.
He wanted to apologize again, to tell you how much he regretted what he said. Before he could, you looked at him as if you couldn't get enough.
“As much as I would love to continue kissing you, I’m starving. And you need to eat.”
He laughed, a genuine, full-fledged laugh, something he hadn’t done in weeks.
You tried pushing off his lap, but he wouldn’t let you budge.
“I’m just gonna get my own plate,” you said, giving him a quizzical look.
He shook his head. “Eat off mine.”
And with the contentment and hope on his face, you couldn’t argue. So, you swiped a piece of bacon, taking a bite as he kissed your shoulder.
"This mine?" he asked, pulling at the hem of your shirt.
"Yeah. I've kinda been cycling through all the ones in my closet," you said.
He hummed, a sullen look crossing his features.
"Been wearing your ring," he muttered, fishing out his Saint Christopher to show you the ring hanging on it.
You toyed with both pieces, rubbing your thumb over the face of the original, then set it back to his chest. You pressed your palm against his heart, and he placed his hand over it.
You leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes.
He took a sharp breath, then relaxed.
When you finally looked into his eyes, they held security. He trusted you. And he would continue to trust you with something he didn't trust anyone with.
As you ate, one of your arms stayed around his shoulders, sometimes playing with his hair or rubbing his neck. His stayed firmly around your waist, his fingertips grazing up and down your side, trailing further to your thigh.
It was perfect, this moment. Every laugh Billy brought out of you, every kiss you gave him, every word said; it was all a balm. He wasn’t completely healed, he knew that, but he also knew you.
You had reassured him, given him a place to land when he never thought that place existed. You loved him. And that meant you weren’t going anywhere.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfic#stranger things billy#stranger things billy hargrove#stranger things imagine#stranger things angst#stranger things fluff#billy hargrove x fem!reader
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Hi, I just want to say that I adore your writing. I want to ask if you could write a Billy x reader fic, where reader is part of hellfire and Billy develops a crush on the reader to the point where Max is irritated by how lovesick he is. Max tells him to ask her out as it’s obvious that he likes her but Billy makes up an excuse which causes Max to roll her eyes and tell him to grow up. Billy asks the reader out and it turns out that she likes him too and it turns out that they have a lot in common (for example their shared love of metalica). On the Monday following the date during lunch Jason starts picking the hellfire table and calls them all freaks, Billy gets protective over the reader and punches him telling him to stay the hell away from his girl. This probably isn’t the best idea but if you do choose to write it, I can’t wait to read it
I hope this is what you were hoping for and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting and your kind words<3
Not freaks
When Max first wanted to join Hellfire, Billy laughed his ass off. She rolled her eyes and scoffed. She didn't want to tell him or deal with him making fun of her, but she needed to be picked up. She'd seen Eddie drive, and she didn't want any part of that. He made Billy look like a safe driver.
Billy didn't agree, but he didn't have a choice. He knew Neil would lose his head if something happened to Max. He was smacking his steering wheel as he jammed out to Metallica. His speakers were loud and he was smoking his cigarette.
"Bye Max! See you tomorrow, tell your ride a great song" Billy threw out his cigarette, unlocking his door as he looked toward the passenger side. Max slid in as she waved off to a girl. A girl Billy never noticed before. He slightly leaned towards Max to see her but Max shoved him.
"Space! Jeez," Billy rolled his eyes at her comment and watched as the girl walked to her car. Even from the back of her head, she had Billy's attention, in more ways than one.
~~~
Billy couldn't recognize the girl and it was driving him insane, but he'd never ask Max. He didn't need her knowing his business or ruining his chance. He paid more attention in the hallways and his classes, searching around to see if he could spot her. But he never did.
"Hellfire ends at eight, so don't be late!" Max demanded, throwing on her backpack. Billy rolled his eyes and went to make a smart remark when that same girl walked up.
"Hey, Max! Are you ready for tonight? I sense Eddie is preparing to destroy all of us." Billy felt himself smiling as the girl giggled. His blue eyes checked her out, taking in her jeans and black sweater. Her black boots gave her a few inches as she ruffled Max's hair.
"Not like he can. We have the control." Max scoffed, she refused to ever seem weak around boys.
Billy coughed as loud as he could, knocking his knuckles on the car hood. Max rolled her eyes and turned around.
"Yes?" She hissed
Billy tried to signal what he wanted, nodding his head towards the girl. Max glared as she turned back.
"This is my asshole brother, Billy," Max announced with a bored tone. Crossing her arms as she smirked back at Billy.
"Y/N." She said, smiling politely as she nodded to him. Billy smirked and nodded back.
"You're the guy with the good music taste." She said, remembering the song that blasted way too loud through his speakers.
"And you're the pretty girl that recognized good taste." Billy smacked on his charming smile, loving how she smiled to the ground at the compliment.
"Gag," Max said, grabbing Y/N's hand and dragging her into the building.
~~~
"Tell me about Y/N" Billy demanded as he took the spot next to Max at the kitchen table. She looked up from her textbook with an annoyed sigh.
"Senior, hot, edgy, sadly your type, and even worse you are hers," Max said, shivering in fake disgust.
"But she's a hellfire freak?" Billy asked. "She doesn't seem to be freakish."
Max rolled her eyes, as usual. "Hellfire doesn't make you a freak, asshole. She's creative and is a damn good player. If anyone took the time to understand how DnD works, you'd realize it's not a freak show. Plus she'd kick your ass if you ever called her or any of us that."
"Is she single?" Billy asked, Max swore he almost looked nervous.
"If she had a boyfriend I would have said that, dingus." Max hissed, slamming her book shut. "I'd like to study in peace."
~~~
Billy had a sense of pride hearing Max say that he was Y/N's type. He honestly never cared to chase a girl, but he kept wondering about her.
During lunch he looked toward the freak hellfire table, seeing her smile. Billy couldn't help but stare, she was a magnet. She was single, but was she into any of them? Billy's eyes set on Eddie, a guy who had long hair like Billy did. A guy who wore leather like Billy did. Listened to cool bands like Billy did. If Billy was her type, would Eddie be too? He watched as she giggled and smacked Eddie's arm. His arm was thrown over her shoulder as he snacked on her fries. Billy took a mental note to ask Max about it.
~~~
"Dudeeeeee, you've asked about her every single day for the past week. Just ask the damn girl out." Max huffed, another night of Billy asking questions. She hated that he was a player and she had to deal with endless girls in her house. But somehow lovesick Billy was even worse.
"Her and I have barely had an interaction. She's not going to say yes to a stranger, Max!" He argued.
"You're not a stranger. I introduced you."
"In a horrible way might I add." Billy said as he glared down at her.
"Oh, whatever. I'm sure she's heard all about you around the halls." Max said, flipping through the TV. Her words made Billy a tad nervous. What if she was turned off by him because of his asshole and fuck boy act. Max looked over at him as he got silent. Her eyes looked over him. He almost looked nervous again.
"Look, you got a reputation and she might not be into that. But if you do like her and are serious about dating not just fucking. I think she'd hear you out." Max said softly, she stood up and patted his back as a sort of comfort. He smiled at the gesture and her words.
"What's her number?"
~~~
Max stood in Billy's door frame laughing as he raced around his room to find out what to wear. He tore apart his closet and dresser.
"Dude, it's a date. Grab jeans and a shirt that isn't unbuttoned all the way." Max advised.
Billy grabbed a classic T-shirt and his favorite jeans, pushing Max out of his room as he closed the door. He got dressed and covered himself in cologne. He hated that he was nervous.
~~~
"Billy I suck at this!" She groaned as she tossed the tiny ball. Billy laughed next to her, winning her skeeball challenge.
"Then why did you make it a competition?"
"Because I'm usually good at everything!" She huffed. Billy smiled at her pout and came behind her.
"Here, let me help." He tried not to melt when he smelled her sweet perfume. His hand covered hers as he swung her arm back.
"Follow this motion, then let the ball go." He instructed, he moved her arm back and forward. Her hand released the ball and went up the ramp. The ball finally made it in.
"YES!" She cheered, turning around as she hugged Billy. Her excitement was contagious as he spun her around.
Once she landed back on her feet, she realized how close their faces were. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned down. His soft lips pressed against hers.
~~~
Billy was still buzzing from the date. A smile on his face as he walked into school. Even Max could notice how happy he was.
He was reading through a car magazine in the cafeteria. Ignoring the commotion around him. Until he heard her voice.
He snapped his head up to see Jason at their table, running his mouth about the freaks and other names in the book. Billy took a deep breath and stood up. He walked over to the table as Y/N stood up and got in Jason's face.
"What are you gonna do, freak bitch?" Before Y/N could even speak, Billy grabbed Jason's shoulder and turned him around. His right fist connected with Jason's jaw, sending him straight to the floor.
"BILLY!" she gasped, grabbing his arm and moving him away. Teachers rushed to check on Jason.
"Talk about my girl or hellfire again, and I'll make sure you can never get back up." Billy hissed.
The hellfire table sat shocked that Billy Hargrove stood up for them. Y/N smiled at her boyfriend and Eddie gave him an approved nod.
Max smiled as she finally saw Billy in a new light, a happy Billy.
#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove stranger things#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove fluff x reader#ashwhowrites#billy hargrove request#billy hargrove fic
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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.
...........................................................................
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'.
...........................................................................
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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i was made to love you
billy hargrove x fem!reader
gif by @suledins
word count: 1,879
warnings: teeny bit of swearing (i think?), reader has some bad experience with romantic things/insecurities/trust issues, anxious habits (lip picking), anxiety/slight panicking, otherwise quite soft and comforting
a/n: well, hello! i haven’t written for billy since october (gasp), but i’m happy to say that i finally got some inspiration for him again and i am pretty pleased with how this turned out. that inspiration was courtesy of a few prompt lists i found! the first being from this list by @euthymiaaa and the second from this list by @creativepromptsforwriting !! both of those were extremely helpful in getting me back in the groove of things. please check those blogs out!! anyway, i hope you will find some comfort in this and that you’ll enjoy. happy reading!!! <333
————
“What’s the matter with you?”
Billy isn’t being mean when he asks you this. His tone isn’t cruel, but instead there’s a lilt to his voice, an almost desperate one.
He’s asking you to talk to him. The way you’ve been standoffish towards him all day is freaking him out. Your lip is raw from how aggressively you’ve chewed at it, since you’d rather do that than voice your feelings.
But he can’t take seeing you act this way.
“Come on. The windows are gonna start rattling with how you’re bouncin’ your leg, babe.”
You stop on instinct, red-stained fingernails moving back to your bottom lip.
“Nothing’s wrong, Billy. Just having a bad day.”
But that’s not totally true. Your day had been mundane at best. This feeling, your acting this way, had started when he’d shown up this morning, unannounced, with flowers in his hand. For you.
Something inside you broke upon seeing him there, knowing he’d spent money on you, knowing that for some reason he was thinking about you. You can’t understand it.
Billy gets up from his place on the couch. His socked feet move across the carpet until he’s sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. His hand grips your knee. You can’t avoid him this way, and it frustrates you even more, because why is it your attention that he wants?
“I know you better by now than to believe that,” he says firmly.
You can’t handle this. You sit up further on the couch and criss cross your legs so they’re out of his reach. You try not to notice the flash of pain across his face. You’re retreating from him and he doesn’t like it.
“Why are you doing this, Billy?”
He blinks. “Doing what?”
“Bringing me flowers. Thinking about me. Wanting to spend time with me. Touching me, calling me those names. Why do you do all of that to me?” Your voice breaks over that last word and you exhale, hard.
Billy’s eyebrows knit together. “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stare at him like he’s suddenly grown a third eye. Like it should be obvious to him why doing all of these things is wrong.
You lift your hand and rub at your chest. “Because I’m me.”
Billy lets out a huff of a laugh, looking over his shoulder like there must be some hidden camera in the room. “Yeah, and?”
Your eyes water. “Can’t you see all that’s wrong with me? There’s so many other girls you could be spending time with. So many you could love or pamper. We’re not even together and you-you’re treating me like I’m special.”
You stand up, now short of breath. Billy stands with you. You keep rubbing your chest. You slip a hand under your sweatshirt and squeeze the soft of your side, leaving fingernail imprints in your skin.
He moves quickly across the floor, recognizing that you’re starting to panic. He takes your hand in his, but keeps your clasped fingers pressed against your chest, just under your collarbones.
“You are special. To me, you’re the only girl in the world,” Billy says. But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are glued to some spot behind his head. He presses his thumb to your jaw. “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes find his and he follows a tear as it makes its way down your cheek. “You’re the only girl in the world.”
Your eyes flutter shut and you pull away from him.
“Th-this doesn’t make sense. I’m not the kind of girl that receives flowers or gets loved on or gets chosen. You’re my favorite person in the world, Billy, but I can’t possibly be what you want.”
He maintains eye contact with you, trying to understand why you’re behaving this way. Why you don’t believe his motives behind treating you the way he does. Like a princess.
You continue on, starting to pace. “My default is being a nervous wreck, Billy. I hate leaving the house, I don’t have any prospects, I’m not exciting…and I don’t have anything t-to offer you.”
And then it clicks.
Everything comes rushing into Billy’s mind, and he understands now, why you’re so confused, why you’re so afraid of the fact that he’s choosing you.
You’ve never had someone treat you this way. The last guy you talked to, the only guy you’ve talked to, wanted you first. But then you realized he wanted to talk when he needed something. You got attached and he took advantage of that. He dangled everything you’d ever wanted right in front of your face and then took it all away.
And now you’re trying to figure out why someone would want you.
The next words to leave your mouth snap Billy out of his stupor.
“I don’t deserve you.”
Billy swipes a hand down his face, fingers traveling to the back of his neck where he tugs at his hair to keep himself composed. Nothing is more frustrating than having the best girl he’s ever known in front of him and she can’t even see a shred of the value she has. How good she is.
He sighs. “If you think I am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you’re wrong.”
You stop moving and slowly step back towards the couch. Your hands reach out for the cushions first, like you need to steady yourself or you won’t be able to sit properly.
This is the part where he’s supposed to leave. To lash out at you and say you’re too anxious, too worried. Thinking about the way those words have been said to you in the past makes you nauseous and your fingers rub at your stomach.
Billy tracks the motion and sits back down on the coffee table like he had been before. You’re trying to wrap your head around this.
You’d felt desired for a short time before Billy, and you’d felt special, having been treated like you were. But those features weren’t because of you and who you are, but because it guaranteed you’d be giving attention to someone else. Someone who fed off of that and needed it to feel satisfied. It was never because he really wanted you.
But now Billy does.
“I’m sorry, Billy. I want to be able to accept that you’re doing all of these things because your intentions are pure and because you actually like me, it’s just that my mind—it can’t comprehend that just yet.”
Billy takes your face in his hands. They’re warm and calloused and big, and your eyes fill just from the feeling.
“Don’t apologize to me. I understand where you’re comin’ from. But in all honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I bring you flowers and ask to take you out and buy you books and stay the night because I want you. I’ve never wanted to do any of that with someone before. I’m not doing it for my gain. But because you…you are worth all of that. I want to make you happy. You understand me?”
You blink, and Billy’s thumb swipes the tear away before it travels down your face. You start to nod.
“I understand. Can you just…” You lock eyes with him. “Be patient with me? I’m gonna have to learn how not to be afraid o-of this and I know it’ll be hard.”
Billy knows your emphasis on “this” means a potential relationship with him. One beyond the slightly-more-than-friends thing you’ve got going on now. If he’s honest with himself, the prospect of that scares the shit out of him too, because he’s never really done this officially either. He’s always been a hookup kind of guy. The few girlfriends he had never lasted long or had some lasting emotional connection. But he knows your life hasn’t been that way. You’re afraid for different reasons. Because you think he’ll slip away and that you’ll really be the version of yourself that you see on a daily basis.
“Of course I can. I wouldn’t just give up on you because you’re kinda fucked up. That’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?”
The corners of Billy’s mouth twitch. You blink at him, winded at his attempt to make you laugh.
He chuckles to himself, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture steals the breath from your lungs but makes you warm all over. You grab hold of his wrist where it still lingers near your face. Billy is drawing shapes on your shoulder.
He relaxes his arm and lets you take his hand in your own. You drag your index finger along the lines crossing his palm in every direction.This is more entertaining than anything you’ve done in weeks. Your hand slides up against Billy’s until they’re lined up at the heels, and you push against him in an effort to convey that you want to raise them.
Billy catches on. You’re trying to compare his hand to your own. He thinks it’s a silent way for you to communicate with him. Like your way of saying: I want this too. I care about you. You matter to me.
His palm is so warm. Just like the rest of him. And his hand is much bigger than yours, enough so that you hold back a shiver. You want to be able to show Billy that you feel how he does. You want to be able to use those gestures as effortlessly as he does.
So you lower your fingers until they fall between each of his. And then you’re holding hands. You give Billy a little grin, and he swears he could fucking melt. Seriously, the way you make him feel ought to be studied.
To him, spending time with you, comforting you, talking to you about the hard things, learning who you are—it’s as easy as breathing.
It’s like he was made for this. Everything up to this point has prepared him for you. He thinks that somehow, someway, he would’ve found you no matter the situation. You have always been it for him, even when he didn’t know it yet.
You take a deep breath.
I deserve this, you think. I deserve to be cherished and to hold hands. I deserve to let go and see this through.
“Maybe…maybe together we can learn to be a little less fucked up,” you finally say. “I could be easier that way.”
Billy squeezes your hand. “And maybe we’ll get more fucked up in our own special ways.”
That gets a quiet giggle out of you. Shit, he’s won the lottery.
After a moment of peaceful silence, Billy leans forward, dipping his head down so he’s looking up into your eyes. His own are so very blue this close. With those little flecks of gold.
“You deserve the world. I need you to know that. I don’t want anyone else. I want to learn you, inside and out. I want you with me. Is that okay with you?”
You look at him, at the way his curls frizz out by his ears, the way his freckles have faded because of the cold, the way his hand shakes when it leaves yours.
“That’s okay. More than okay.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
#savannah’s fics#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargove imagine#billy hargrove comfort#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove fluff
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shut-eye
A/N: i siimply love sleepy boys and their puppy dog tendencies
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader
Summary: Billy Hargrove loves sleep and you. 0.8k words.
Warnings: implied smut and kissing, cuddling, lots of sleeping + snoring, general fluff!
The second you get your hands on Billy, he's snoring. His cheek is smushed against your thigh, and your fingers are soft on the back of his neck. Soft enough that he's humming in two minutes flat. You never knew your boy could be so tired. Every time you tell him to work less and sleep more, he tells you he's saving up for your future together and then immediately passes out on the couch.
He doesn't even know it's happening until he's snoring softly and draped across your lap, all deadweight with his boots heavy strapped to his feet. You usually give him a couple minutes to blink awake again. It borders on Pavlovian when he waits five minutes to stand silently in the hall and let you lead him to his bedroom.
Though he's practically unconscious, he insists on stripping down to his underwear to sleep comfortably. Which has become your job because he says he likes how gentle you are. You never really mind anyway, and he's always polite about it—sure to huff out those pleases and thank you's. You're careful to keep him at peace while you slowly unbutton his shirt or push the jacket from his shoulders. It's rare that it gets him riled up when you push his jeans to the floor, but rare doesn't mean never. You know you've got him revved up when he groans and his eyes flick open. And sleep has evaded him with his hand in your panties.
There is nothing more important to him than you. When you tell him he's sweet and special and worth it, he feels content enough to kiss your neck and breathe you in until he's all drained and humming. It means so much that you take the time to make sure he's tucked in at night. He's never had anyone keep track of him like this. Even with work kicking his ass, he's happy to wake up to you after you insist he gets all eight hours of rest.
Sometimes, the day and its people will make him groggy. Worse than overtired and overworked, he gets explosive until he slumps through the front door. One time he couldn't find you, and he nearly tore the whole house apart just to find you curled under the covers. And the small, sleepy smile that graced your face made all that grievance worth it. The bad days are the worst until he's warm under four different quilts and tucked into your side with a peck lingering on his forehead.
If you’re not careful, he’ll beg you to sing to him. He’ll crawl onto your tummy and bat his lashes and beg and beg like he can’t do without a lullaby. Doesn’t matter if you can sing, you will end up singing. Some sickly sweet jazz tune, but really you could sing your grocery list and have him cooing like a little baby by the end. And if you’re not in the mood and he really can’t sleep, he’ll ask you to read to him. It knocks him out like a sedative. Forget warm milk, spit some Murakami and wait for the snoring to sink in.
He doesn’t even have to be tired to fall asleep across your lap. If he sees you looking comfortable on the couch, he will simply squirm under the blanket next to you (or on top of you) and blink up at you until you smile and run your fingers through his hair. He’s so puppy dog coded. But at the same time SO orange cat. He could be running on six cups of coffee and still be sound asleep to your heartbeat tender against his cheek.
He's cursed without a goodnight kiss. Won't get a wink of sleep 'till he gets a kiss from you. It gives him nightmares just thinking about it. He can't—he won't fully conk out until he's wrapped around you, your palm resting in the crook of his own, kiss settled on his forehead or cheek or lips or eyelids. He refuses because it's not safe. He needs the bedtime routine of you to keep him weighed down and promise forever in dreams.
When he's especially tired, you'll whisper things like, "You are the sleepiest boy in the whole world,” or calling him “sleeping beauty,” just to rouse a half-hearted reaction from him. It's usually a mumble of some gruff protest or a coo of laughter before he's out cold with his hands tethered to you. He's always so determined to stay good and awake for you, but it's usually a futile effort that ends when he wakes up with the sun the next morning.
Do not try to make him sleep without you, it won't end well. Seriously, his solution to a fight is not "I'll sleep on the couch"; it's "I'll kiss you until we're both feeling better," and when that doesn't work, one flash of that deviant smile and soft blue bedroom eyes will stop any train in its tracks.
He spends all of his free time sleeping and loves to call a cat nap across your tummy ‘date night’. It might’ve annoyed you if you didn't love him so much. Plus you never really mind the extra shut-eye. That kind of forgiveness is part of what fuels his obsession with you. If your smile is the last thing he remembers before bed, it's a good day.
How can you be mad when he purrs like a kitten and finds you like a heat seeking missile. He doesn't remember when he got so tired, but he's glad he found someone to keep him healthy. And maybe a sixty-hour work week won't be so bad once he can buy you that pretty silver ring and make you happy for the rest of your lives.
masterlist
#stranger things#x reader#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x reader#fluff#x gn!reader#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x gn!reader#stranger things fic#smut#billy hargrove smut#billy#billy hargrove#cuddling
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