#weed whacker | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunflowerharrington · 2 years

Text

My Favorite Poison - Chapter One

overall synopsis: billy meets a girl. billy and said girl hit it off. but like most things in life… they don’t always have a happy end. 99% of the time they don’t, but he’s holding onto that 1% like his life depends on it. and then everything goes downhill.

content warnings: swearing, fighting, cheating, arguing, typical highschool behaviour, n*il hargrove, implied sexual content towards the second half of the book, more content warnings to be added

author’s notes: please, be kind. it costs nothing. billy’s backstory is inspired by nate jacobs’ but billy actually turns out to be the good guy unlike nate. italics are thoughts (mostly). get your popcorn and enjoy watching these idiots bicker over a school project and other things —bee.

i’m super nervous about this one, i hope at least one person likes this story…

tagging: @myobmaya @steveslittlesunflower @thisishellfire @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @hellfirehaley @corrodedhawkins @quickiesgirl @taecube @eddies-bat @wzrlds @fxllfaiiry @liviawritesthings @eddiebillysteve @fleetwood-mac-demarco if you would like to be added, please let me know!

masterlist and playlist coming soon!!

part two

please do not copy or repost to another site or on your own blog, i have spent so much time on this

chapter one: cigarettes and new faces

AUGUST 29TH 1984, HAWKINS, INDIANA

He held the flame of the lighter at the end of his second cigarette of the evening, listening to the flick of metal hitting against metal. He inhaled deeply, leaning back against the cold wall behind him, his legs tucked up to his chest as he sat on the window cill. The boy let his fragile eyelids flutter shut, images of waves, sand and the bright sunlight coursing through his mind, reminiscing about his time in California. Wishing he could go back to his home.

Nothing could kill Billy quite like being stuck in a boxing ring in his own home, where he was the punching bag. His quote unquote “home” was practically a jailhouse. Not a home, but a house. But this was just four walls, four people, four fights every night which the person who actually started them all always blamed Billy for starting them. Everything was in fours for Billy Hargrove.

Until one person disrupted those even numbers. Ruining the order in the Hargrove household, ruining everything. According to Neil; a very unreliable source, who then began taking his anger out in a heinous way.

So Billy turned to drinking alcohol and inhaling toxic fumes from the cigarettes. Smoking that amount would kill him one day. It would eventually make his pearly whites rot and fall out and his jaw would also dislocate and fall off. But he didn’t give a shit. But he would in the next hour.

He’d rather die than be in Hawkins.

And exhale, blowing the smoke back into the bathroom, watching it brush against the cloudy window panes and the cracked mirror hanging on the door at the opposite end of the room, listening to the hustle and bustle of the outside world and god-awful music from a nearby car. The hardest part about it for him was the long exhale after inhaling the death threatening substances. He hated letting go, he hated relaxing.

But it didn’t matter what he was breathing in, he hated it. He would do anything to cut off all air circulation… Letting himself exhale and let go was what led him to be thrown into this hell on Earth, Hawkins, for eternity.

Sometimes Billy thought back to the day that everything changed in his house. He was twelve years old when his dad turned on him. Neil wanted to keep everything in order and was quite obsessive, but didn’t want to do any of the work. He was the man of the house after all, and whatever he says, goes. So he forced William to start working.

When he turned thirteen he started going by Billy. Around that time he also adopted healthier habits, except he started smoking and began consuming too much alcohol. At thirteen. He also adopted a rigid diet consisting of carbs, protein and cheap cans of beer from the fridge when his mom and Neil weren’t looking. His workout schedule included surfing, swimming and running the length of the beach.

He joined the Lenora Hills basketball team as a freshman, coming out as not only the star player at the year’s end, but the team captain too. And he loved it. He loved the attention and his mom’s praise, until Neil kicked her out of the house for reasons unknown to Billy at the time, and until Susan Mayfield and her daughter, Max, showed up.

Max was a fuck-up. Billy could tell Neil didn’t like Max; didn’t think she had guts, or a brain or half a fucking clue about anything in the world except how to skateboard and be a disappointment to everyone.

He didn’t talk to Neil all that much after the switch flicked in Neil’s mind to start inflicting his anger and pain onto the child. Billy didn’t like Susan either. She was weak and a pushover. Plus, she was an alcoholic and didn’t take care of herself. What a waste. Susan could have been his saving grace.

And inhale… breathing in the smoke and letting it fill his lungs, letting it calm your senses, and then exhaling slowly. He watched with half-lidded, slightly dazed eyes as the cigarette smoke filled the small room, coating the already thick air around him.

Susan insisted on him going out for the evening, so he found himself trudging to the nearest gas station, picking an unopened box of cheap cigarettes off the ground on his way. He’d gone out to buy some, so getting free ones was a win in his book.

He kicked open one of the bathroom stall doors and locked it behind him, taking a seat on the window cill with a thin coat of chipped white paint on it that had turned a murky yellow color due to… how long it had been there, he thought.

Billy moved to Hawkins with Susan, Max and Neil after Neil kicked Billy’s mom out. Moving into a new house that was a ten minute drive from the local middle school and high school. Though he would rather work out all day and swim in the community pool, working on getting his lifeguard training certificate, than going to school. He’d rather read a fucking Shakespearean tragedy aloud than attend school. He'd rather marry somebody he hated than attend school.

And now he found himself walking down a dark alleyway, freckles of blue sky peeking out from behind the clouds full of angel tears, a street lamp flickering above him, which was surprisingly more comfortable than locking himself up (leaving the door open three inches, he wasn’t allowed to close his door) in an almost empty bedroom that might as well have been a foreign country. And exhale again.

He’d heard stories about this town; about how two young kids went missing in the same week but only one survived, about how one man was forced to look after said child and his friends because their deadbeat parents were as useful as the pythagorean theorem outside of school. But he chose to believe none of it. Max on the other hand believed everything. Her lack of brain cells allowed her to do that.

Though her IQ still wasn’t as bad as Neil’s receding hairline.

And inhale. Inhaling this shit never burned as bad the second time around… Well, not as bad as the burn he received when he tripped down the stairs in his next door neighbour slash best friend’s house, when the bare skin of his thigh dragged and scraped along the carpet. When the only person who didn’t laugh at him could barely help him because they’d both smoked one too many purple palm tree delights that day.

And so is where he was now; leaning against a damp concrete wall near a girl his age and presumably her younger sister, who looked to be around Max’s age or slightly older. As he breathed in the cool air of the autumn evening, he watched as they completed their daisy chains using the flowers from the tiny patch of grass by the flickering street lamp.

The older of the two girls noticed him out of the corner of her eye and gave him a warm smile, one that slowly began to melt his heart without him even knowing it, little creases forming around her eyes. The little girl waved at Billy, but he didn’t have it in him to wave back. He felt like he didn’t deserve it after all the shit Neil said he did; after that time at the police station when Neil accused him of abusing his own step-mother and step-sister, when in reality the real monster was Neil.

But he couldn’t help but look back at the older girl, who had wrapped her arms around the little girl’s shoulders. She had long, ash blonde hair and pretty amber eyes. Her sun kissed skin had been injected with bright, colorful ink, and the drawings covered the entirety of one of her arms. A tattoo-covered hand moved to cup the younger girl’s cheek, her thumb wiping away a stray tear.

Panic set in for Billy. Did he make her cry? Was it because he didn’t say anything to her? Should he buy her an ice cream to cheer her up? A magazine? A movie from Family Video? He flicked his lighter out of boredom and to distract himself from his thoughts, blowing smoke out into the darkness of the late summer night.

It would be better if he didn’t say anything.

His cigarettes tasted like shit but they calmed his ever growing nerves. So he kept them up. The shitty doctor he went to with his mom told him that the injections they were going to give him would fix his addiction and calm his nerves, but boy were they far from right. They just made him even worse.

They did fucking shit to help him.

“It’s the pretty boy from the pool!” He heard the younger girl, the brunette, say quietly into the blonde girl’s shoulder. Muffled, but clear and loud enough for him to hear almost crystal clearly.

The tattooed girl smiled, pressing a kiss to the little girl’s forehead. “You’re right, El! You wouldn’t know who this is, but he reminds me of James Dean, in a way.”

Her voice was sweeter than candy, and it made Billy’s skin crawl. It was the first time she’d uttered more than a word. He couldn’t tell where she was from; the sing-song tunes of a Gaelic drawl mixed perfectly in with Midwest American that warmed him more than the sun beating down on his blonde curls in a hot summer in California. And he hated it.

James Dean? Wow…

Billy grinned, smirking as he heard the little girl, El, say that she thought Billy had heard what the girl with the sweet tatties had said. The older girl hid her blushing face in her hands while the other giggled, teasing her. “Why is your face pink?”

“It’s not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not, El!”

His heart sank as the little girl ran up to him. Should he apologize now? Should he compliment her daisy chain bracelet? Should he ask her about the brown-haired girl? Should he—?

“My friend thinks you’re really pretty,” she said, bouncing up to him, now standing not even a foot away from him, practically leaning against his body. His ears perked up at the sound of her voice.

Okay. They’re not sisters.

“I know I am,” he replied plainly, flicking his cigarette again, looking down into her glassy, deep brown eyes. Eyes that made him instantly relax, the tension in his shoulders disappearing as he sighed a quiet “thank you,” to her.

El beamed, but Billy hadn’t noticed, too busy looking at the other girl. He shifted in his spot by the wall and stared, admiring how she flicked her nails together. Maybe it was a nervous thing? However, she was a stunner. Skin like soft cashmere with a sunkissed glow, gleaming amber eyes and a full plush mouth. She had her almost pin straight hair pulled into a high ponytail with her bangs falling over her forehead, her ponytail secured with a blue scrunchie; Billy’s favorite color.

She also looked strong, her arms muscled but not as much as his, with her colorful sleeve, and she had the kind of full swishy hips a boy would love to grab a hold of. And she smiled like a pageant queen.

Billy hadn’t noticed that his fingers had tangled together, kneading each other like bread dough. He hated how pretty she was. She was so out of his league, and he hated that. He hated how he wouldn’t be able to sweet talk her into a date, hated how he wouldn’t be good enough for her even though he hadn’t even spoken to her yet.

Her glossy smile wavered, and she laughed, a sound that jingled in tune with the dangling earrings she was wearing. Ones that looked almost identical to Billy’s. The sound rang in his ears louder than anything ever had before.

Is this fate?

“Come on, El,” she said, beckoning the girl back over to her, her eyes locking with Billy’s for a moment. “I’m sorry about her, she gets really excited around boys.”

Billy opened his mouth, uncharacteristically unsure of what to say. He lived by the philosophy that regrets were for another day, not today. Or, at least for a minute after he’d said something that made him sound like a fucking idiot.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I get that excited around pretty people too.”

Her smile broke, laughter bubbling in her chest. The sweetest sound in the world was worth looking like an idiot for.

“You do? I guess that means you’re not excited right now,” she said, her voice dropping, trailing off. “I mean, why would you be? El’s pretty but she’s twelve… But whatever you’re into...”

Billy shrugged. “What if I was talking about you?”

“You were?” Her pretty mouth fell open, letting out a short gasp. Billy’s brows furrowed; she was surprised he said that?

As Billy nodded, a huge smile broke on her face, pulling at the corners of her glossy lips. However, he felt his heart beginning to shatter as she tried her hardest to conceal that beautiful smile. Each time her smile broke, so did his heart.

And he fucking hated it. He hated how easily this girl had made him crack. He hated how she didn’t see herself as beautiful or worthy. He hated how she didn’t see herself the way he saw her.

She flicked her light gaze in his direction, the force of her smile so bright he almost had to physically rub his eyes to adjust; instead he just squinted them shut for a second longer than a normal blink. That was exactly how she looked to him: a vision. One so beautiful it could bring a tear to somebody’s eye. She had the beauty of Venus, the power of Aphrodite, the grace of la primavera di Botticelli and a smile with enough adoration it could power an entire twelve lifetimes of perfect, puppy love.

“Of course I was, doll,” he replied with a chuckle from the bottom of his stomach. “Have you met yourself?”

Billy smiled back at her, running his skilful tongue over his top teeth and bottom lip, which for whatever reason looked hot. Any time she tried, it looked weird and creepy. He made it look so effortless and so, so… so…—

Billy watched as a scarlet blush crept onto her cheeks, tucking a wayward strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, biting the side of her bottom lip to distract herself from… something. Anything. She could feel herself faltering under his intense gaze.

Billy also had to look away. The longer he looked, the more he felt like he was falling. He couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t just because she was too good looking for her own good. He’d met plenty of beautiful girls in his life, maybe a few who looked even more gorgeous than her, but nobody, in his entire 17 years of life had managed to knock him sideways like that that fast.

When he finally opened his mouth again, he was so busy trying to smooth talk her, that he may have insulted her. Fuck. Telling her she looked like somebody who would balance out his prettiness even after he called her beautiful. God, why won’t he stop fucking talking?

He was digging himself a grave 8 feet under instead of 6. Every word was more stupid and more flustered-sounding than the last.

But she laughed. She laughed at his stupidity, which was better than her running off with tears falling down her beautiful face. He’d take anything he could at that point.

He slowly walked over and sat down next to her, pulling his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the gas station bathroom. Bold move.

The swift movement only made the blush on her cheeks grow even more, and she now had no choice but to let him see that.

“What’s a sweet girl like you doing out here almost all by yourself anyway?” He asked after she failed to fully falter under his gaze. There was a party down the road

“I could ask you the same thing, Stud,” she replied, breath hitching in his throat as she scooted closer to him, his boots and her converse touching, something of a small spark igniting between the two as her right knee and his left knee briefly touched.

“You think I’m a sweet girl?”

“You know what I mean!” She laughed. Oh he liked the sound of her laugh.

But no. He hated it. No. Hate. Hate. He wasn’t allowed to like anything so why should he start now?

You don’t like her. Get that in your fucking head.

“What’s your name?” He asked, filling what might have been an awkward silence.

“What’s yours?” She challenged, her lips matching his cheeky smirk, politely deciding a cigarette from him when he offered.

He got to work attempting to roll a blunt from the back pocket of his jeans with his shaky fingers on the surface of the slightly damp ground next to him, cigarette dangling from his plush lips. He noticed her pushing her thighs together tighter than before, but never said anything, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Are you gonna make me annoy the shit out of you until you tell me, Stud?” Shit. Fuck. Double and triple times fuck. He forgot about that.

“It’s Billy,” he said, exhaling, the area around them filling with a soft haze of gray smoke, clouding both of their minds even more.

“Sloane,” she replied. “Got a surname?” I wish I didn’t. “…Or are you just Billy?”

His stomach leapt at the way his name rolled off her tongue so perfectly, and he gulped, covering it up by pulling his cigarette. The sound of her saying his name… It was cheesy as fuck but it sounded better than any song he’d ever heard. “It’s Hargrove.”

“Mitchell,” she said, slipping something into the pocket of his denim jacket, patting the fabric twice. “Always nice to see new faces around here, Hargrove… Well, I think you’re new, I’d notice a pretty boy like you a mile away.”

Pretty boy, huh? Looked like Billy was off to a great start.

…Until he fucked it all up. Just like he did with everything he ever went near. He was destined to not have nice things.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #stranger things angst #angst #fluff #stranger things fluff #meet cute #billy hargrove x oc #original character #billy x oc #my favorite poison #stranger things x oc #back on my clown shit #fuck neil hargrove and his hairline that looks like it was fucked with a weed whacked #whacker*#bee simps

76 notes · View notes