raveofsix

[raveofsix]

One more time

A/N: I missed writing angst.

You’ve been in this place before.

You’ve been here; hands pressed against the edge of the sink, hints of somebody else’s vomit that didn’t hit the bullseye of the toilet, reflection staring right back at you in disappointment.

You were as vulnerable as in the past times. Smudged eye liner rounded your eyes and all the lipstick you had on your mouth had transferred into Billy’s. He was waiting for you outside, back pressed against the door, telling you how much he wants you right now.

You can’t fix him, you tell yourself one more time. Not even with handiest tools you’d been able to glue him back together. He always came to your doorstep, exhausted and broken. You’d tear away little pieces of you to help in the meantime.  

You offered to yourself the same two answers one more time: you either stayed away from him or you accepted him for who he truly was.

And the cycle begun again.  

You tried to stay away but he always came back, you tried to accept him but you always lost yourself in the process. You never win, and even if he does, you don’t know what he sees as a prize.

You open the door and you launch yourself onto him, he mentions that he likes that you’re taking charge. You want him to stop talking.

You fuck him, hard, on the bed of Tommy’s parents. He kisses your face until you fall asleep.

The next morning you wake up in your bed and smelling like alcohol and Billy’s sweat. You’re wearing his shirt, his favorite. You try not to read much into it.

He’s in the corner of your bedroom, shirtless, watching all the framed pictures next to your closet. Your parents are out of town most weekends in an attempt to work on their failed marriage, they travel to Indianapolis to see a couple’s therapist.  

“Did you drive here?” Is the first thing you say that morning. He turns around, trying to act less startled than he actually was. Your hands are hugging your knees and he stares at you for a while, he loves seeing you in his clothes.

“I asked Carol to drive us here, then I paid a cab for her,” Billy answered, getting closer to you.  

You snort. “I’m surprised we weren’t killed in the process.” You stand up and make your way to your closet. “You could have woken me up.”

“I didn’t want to, you looked really peaceful on your sleep,” Billy said, his cold hand laying on your shoulder, it sent shivers to your spine, not knowing if it was because of the temperature or because of him.  

You didn’t say anything, you just scouted on the shelves in search for some pants and a clean shirt. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you on your cheek. You blushed slightly, surprised at his sudden show of affection. “Do you mind if I stay with you today? I don’t want to go home yet.”

“I have to study, but you can stay. I don’t mind.” You smile and lay your hands on his.  

The morning consisted of him trying to make breakfast for you, playing footsies under the table and you trying to get him riled up by singing the wrong lyrics of his favorite songs. Adding to the mix that you couldn’t sing for shit, it worked.

“You’re lucky I like you otherwise I wouldn’t be with you if kept doing that,” Billy said with a smile, hand running through his wet hair.  

You felt the water from the shower hit your face. It was supposed to be a compliment, but it only left a stinging burn on your stomach. “We’re not together,” you say hesitantly while rubbing some soap on his back.  

Billy stops humming the song from his mixtape. “So, you don’t want to be with me?” He asks, trying to keep the upper hand, even though deep down he’s hurt.

“So you can leave me the moment Jessica puts it down for you? No, thanks,” you mutter, while rinsing the shampoo out of your hair.

“Come on, I will never do that,” He turns around and puts a hand your face. He gets closer to you, feeling him on your leg.

“What guarantee’s that you won’t do that? You have done it before.” You avoid his burning gaze, his hand still lingers on your cheek.  

He moves your face so you can see him eye to eye. It’s hard not to get hypnotized by his stare. “Because I think I’m falling for you.”  

He leans to kiss you and you kiss him back. Even if he isn’t lying, you still can’t trust him. Images of him with another girl fulfill your thoughts, but they quickly vanish when he whispers on your ear how much he’s into you.

You try to stay away one more time and instead you fall into the cycle once again. You accept him a he is and wait for your downfall.  

In the meantime, you enjoy the feeling of being his temporary girl as he presses your body against his in the heat of the bathroom.

#* #w #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

[raveofsix]

i asked myself about the present (billy hargrove x reader)

warnings: self-destructive tendencies, drinking, more intense angst. 

word count: 1.02k. there’s a whopper!

a/n: this is pretty melancholy too. maybe that’s my ‘thing’, lol. billy pov. philosophical!billy + shrewd!billy.

Look, Billy’s never held any sort of pretensions. People don’t just fucking chug down all 99 barrels of beer on the wall, get into fistfights any–time–any–place, and fuck every angel-faced girl they see. It’s not … normal. They’re not reasonable things to do if someone wants a future, wants to go to college, put a ring on their girl, settle down in that pretty white house with a tire swing out front and kids selling lavender lemonade. It just doesn’t make sense to keep tipping precariously on the edge of alcohol poisoning, to wake up every morning feeling like today’s the day he’ll finally feel the bone-breaking impact of all the punches he’s taken, to smoke cigs and fuck around and just do all of the shit Billy does if a future is what you’ve got in mind.

Well, like he said, Billy hasn’t got any far-fetched pretensions.

He’ll die soon, young, nineteen or twenty or some shit like that, because Neil won’t hold back one day. He’ll kick Billy’s face in or send rib-bone splintering through his guts or something. That, or it’ll be Billy himself. He’ll be too drunk to drive, maybe. He’ll drive into that lake, that eye-hurting indigo lake, the one that reflects clouds half the time. It’ll be tragic. It’ll be funny, probably.

See, Billy hasn’t got a future.

Or, at least, he hasn’t got a future till you.

+

Billy doesn’t know how to describe you, honestly. You’re … you. Wonderfully descriptive, he knows. Mrs. Doberbitch’d give him an A on that for sure, no question. But that’s how it is. You’re … witty. Sharp to the point of brilliance, he thinks, sometimes. When you talk about shit you like, you start to move your hands and your cheeks pinken just the slightest bit and you seem … filled with light. Rosy with it. Glowing. And you’re kind. To the point of stupidity, which gets to him sometimes, he’s not going to lie, ‘cause like Jesus, do we have to save every godforsaken cat in this shithole town? And also, how does a town this tiny even have so many cats. It’s fucking weird, is what it is.

When he first met you, he’d have described you as a shrinking violet, but. He knows you now. He’s seen you in every incarnation of yourself — your sleepy head on his chest at 2 am, you cackling gleefully with your legs dangling out the side of the Camaro and your lips tasting like strawberry-pistachio gelato, you bawling your fucking eyes out over a D on a history test, you ripping Carol to shreds, you whiny, you flushed and tipsy, you giggling quietly while watching Seinfeld, you everything.

And he likes you.

With every facet you show. With every smile you give him.

Everything changes. Nothing changes. He reads fucking Vonnegut for school and skims across this one quote and it hits him right in the chest with the truth of it all, honestly, just like — like a punch to the windpipe, the sort that’s ugly and nasty and illegal, that makes him woozy and sends fragile dots of gold shimmering across his vision before he breathes again, before he steadies again — just like that, reading it was just like that:

“We really haven’t talked anything over—

What is there to talk about?

Nothing you could say would make me love you more or less.

Our love is too deep for words ever to touch it. It’s soul love.”

It’s you. The quote is you and it makes him want to ruin it all. It makes him want to throw himself into a wall, drink one hundred cups of rum and cola, eat out some girl whose name he doesn’t know till she doesn’t know her own name either. It does all of this. It drives him fucking crazy.

There’s a party tonight, and Jesus —

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

+

You’re there, sniffling a little in the corner of the party with your best friend in a cardinal red sweater, scrunchie tugging up all your soft (y/h/c) up, and it’s all just. A fucking mess. It’s a fucking nightmare. Look, Billy’s at his wit’s end. Billy’s never —

Billy’s never. Christ, doesn’t that sum it all up?

Billy’s never met someone who’s treated him so kind. Billy’s never kissed someone who tilts a little and catches the corner of his mouth every time they say goodbye, like even the simple edge of his mouth is enough. Billy’s never felt that type of intimacy with someone. Billy’s never lit jasmine candles or bought three bags of frozen strawberries on a girl’s request. Billy’s never known someone who warded off the darkness with only the light of herself. Billy’s never had someone who kissed all his aches simply for the reason of putting her mouth where he’d told her it hurt, even though he’d also said the kissing’s useless, the kissing doesn’t even take away the fucking pain —

Billy’s never liked anyone. Not this way. Not like you.

And you’re right there. Right there, across the room, nose a little runny and red from the cold you’ve got, tissue clutched in one hand and your cup of beer held in the other. You look wan, but you’re smiling. You’re beautiful.

He looks at you, as the party jostles like a living thing around him, all these sweaty people, all this screaming, all the malt sloshing out of cups and onto walnut wooden flooring.

And he doesn’t want to say it.

He just doesn’t want to fucking say it —

But he has to.

He has to.

He has to, if he wants to turn himself around. He has to, if he wants to give you that nice, normal future that he’d never afforded himself, that he’d never bothered to dream about, that he’d never even wanted, honestly. He has to.

‘Cause you’re … you.

And he thinks, a little afraid, that he could fall in love with you someday.

(Maybe he already has.)

#fav #i love angst #i love this

[raveofsix]

River deep

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader. 

Word count: 3,6K.

Summary:  You tended to overthink everything, which, naturally, led you to blow things out of proportion. Or, the reader has a small crisis with Billy.

A/N: This is a Sinclair!Reader fic because they barely exist, it doesn’t contribute much to the plot but I wanted to write family dynamics because Lucas and Erica remind me of my siblings waaay too much. This is mostly comedic.

It wasn't unlike the two of you to fight over mundane things, this time it was because according to you, Billy accidently spilled your nail polish bottle over your carpet after elbowing it from the small table next to the bed while you were making out.  

By the end of the night Billy left with the biggest case of blue balls he's ever had, the one that not even a little tug war in his shower could solve; in your case you found a little red spot on the sleeve of your white sweater, turns out you were the one that dropped the paint.  

But it was too late, you already had made a big deal of it and Billy already got mad at you for yelling like a fucking walrus whenever things weren't perfect. You couldn’t give him the upper hand, he wouldn't let you live it up until your funeral the fact that for the first time (okay, maybe not first) you were wrong and he was right.

You were only a phone call away from his mocking laugh of "I told you so", the one that would leave you pondering your defeat with a frown during a whole week if you told him the truth. It doesn't matter, maybe, he'll forget about it tomorrow, and if he doesn't, you'll be nicer to him.  

The next day his father's cousin who he never met had passed away and left to California to attend the funeral. At least that's what Max told Lucas.  

"So, he didn't tell you anything?" Lucas raised an eyebrow while chewing on his perfectly cooked eggs.

You frowned while taking a sip of your orange juice. "Can't you tell from my face, dumbass?"

"(Y/N)!" Your mother exclaimed, while putting down her fork. "You can't treat your brother like that!"  

"But he always calls me that!" You raised an accusatory hand, pointing at Lucas. "I bet you never tell him anything because he's your favorite!"

Lucas smirked and Erica crossed her arms with a grimace. "I thought I was your favorite!"  

"At least your dad's favorite child," you reminded her while rubbing the bridge of your nose. "Meanwhile, I'm nobody's!"  

"What do you expect? Not even your boyfriend likes you," Lucas muttered with a shit-eating grin, trying to test your patience.  

You stood up from your chair and made your way over to him, hands extended as if to grab him. "That's it, you little sh-"

"Mom! Mom! She wants to hit me!" Lucas claimed for false help, laughing at your anger.

"That's enough!" Your dad pounded a fist on the table. Making everybody stop what they were doing.  

"I-I'm sorry, dad," you gulped. Lucas sat tightly on his seat, afraid to move. Your dad was a caring and loving man of values, who carried a ton of patience. So it was a big deal if he ran out of it.

You went back to eating your perfectly burned toast in silence, you eyed Lucas with squinting eyes of hatred.  

*

You were late on first period and it was because you stood on the sidewalk waiting for the blue Camaro that drew in your father's first lousy impression of Billy. After ten minutes outside, you remembered he wasn't here and that the school bus wasn't going to come by the stop until half-an-hour later.  

You walked until your feet were puddles of mud, luckily for you, you always kept your track shoes on your locker. The problem was that you were going to look like an idiot wearing a long black skirt and a bouncy pink Nike logo.  

You were stuffing your leather shoes in between your books when you felt a warm hand on your back. You turned around, muttering an unamusing "hey", symbolizing how excited you are to go through this day.  

Your best friend, Ellen grimaced behind you, and gave you highly out-of-character gesture that left you stiff as a plank, a hug. You hugged her back, figuring she was going through something, but she began patting your back, saying "I've heard about what happened with you and Billy. If you need me, we can talk about it."

You grabbed her shoulder and tore her apart from you, staring at her in confusion. "That wha-what?!"  You squinted at her, your mouth slightly opened. "Nothing's happened. Who said that? And what did they say?"

"Okay, calm down." She sighed, lowering your hands that begun to unconsciously grip at little too harshly on her shoulders. "Tommy said that last night Billy was pissed at you, and that maybe he was going to break up with you. I figured he did since you arrived late and... with those shoes." She pointed at them with a look of disgust.  

"I just put these on," you defended your questionable fashion choice of the day. "Billy isn't here, right?"

"Nobody's seen him."

You breathe in, shutting your eyes. "Where's Tommy?"

"Probably fucking Carol," She said casually, while eyeing the school crowd.

"Don't be disgusting."

"I'm serious."

You rolled our eyes. "I'll just go look for them."

"Just be aware that I warned you," Ellen pointed a finger at you while walking away. Her high ponytail flipping on the air as she searched for Jake Shelton on the school crowd.

*

"Maybe if you weren't such a pain in the ass you wouldn't be in this situation," Tommy claimed tauntingly, while juggling a Spalding ball in his hands.  

You shrugged, trying to act unfazed by his comment, even though deep inside your heart was racing at the mere thought that when Billy came back he would give you back all your stuff. Maybe he'll keep a mixtape or two, to laugh at your arguable taste of music since he probably hates you now.

"I don't care if he dumps me or not," you lied, your arms crossed tightly under your chest. "I just want to know when he's coming back."

"I'm not saying," Tommy reiterates countlessly. Carol is behind, sitting on the bleachers while filing her nail, her eyebrow raised, waiting for the two of you to stop your bickering.

A sudden fit of rage overcomes you and you grab his basketball, taking him by surprise. "Just tell me you fucking jackass! If you have an ounce of respect for the time we were friends, you will fucking tell me or I'll smash this thing in your fucking face!"

Both Tommy and Carol's eyes widened at your outburst, you weren't known for being calm and collected but you weren't violent, which came to show how much this situation was affecting you.

"I don't fucking know," Tommy said in a giggling fit. "I was just fucking with you!"

You gritted your teeth and let go of the ball.  

*

You think that if you keep staring at the blue phone on your desk your eyes might burn. Maybe it truly was over.  

And you weren't ready to accept it. Strings of boys followed behind you in the past, everyone as meaningless as the other. It took you a while to open your heart to him, not ready to give up on the marvels that independency could give you, but after a year you couldn't live without him. By the time you first kissed him in broad daylight instead of keeping him hidden in the disastrous parties, you realized that there was no turning back.

You muffled a groan on your pillow. Nothing of this was making any sense.

"Mom says dinner is served," Lucas announced while slacking on the fame of the door.

"I'm not hungry," you mutter, your hair wild around you as you lifted your head from the pillow.

Lucas is ready to go downstairs when you ask him, "Has Max told you anything about him? Or me?"

"Not a single thing."

You pressed your lips together, lowering your head back into the pillow.  

"What's wrong?" Lucas asks, trying to mask his concern, since vulnerability was never a thing between the two of you.  

"I wish I knew," you turned your head, trying to keep the tears from spilling and transforming them into annoyance from his prying. The last time Lucas had seen you cry was when you had appendicitis in 8th grade, now it wasn't a good time for him to see you crying over a boy. A boy that he did not like, nonetheless.

"Max told me she'll be back on Tuesday morning."

Tuesday. That was four days. In the meantime, you guess you'll have to learn how to live without him so for when the real moment comes that he gives up on you, you'll be ready to accept the hit without further damage.

*

You were filling your plastic cup with cheap wine for the fifth time on a Saturday night when you were approached by Steve and his hair; you worded it that way because they were a duality to your eyes, however, if they were to be separated they would perish without the other.

"Hey, I heard about what happened, are you okay?" Steve put a hand on your shoulder.  

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, thankful for his concern. "Nothing's happened... yet."

Steve squinted in confusion. "So..."

"Tommy made it up, but I'm sure he's going to dump me." You took a large sip from your cup.

"Wow, okay, he'd be stupid to do that," Steve sits on the kitchen counter and signals you to do the same.

You struggled to jump up in your state so Steve helped you up by lifting you by the waist. "At this rate, I'm beginning to think that you were the best boyfriend I ever had."

Steve laughed, he wasn't expecting for you to bring up your short-lived one-month fling you two had on seventh grade. It ended when Steve met a girl in summer camp and decided to dump you on the phone.  Steve slung an arm around your shoulder and you rested your head on his.  

Before you knew it, you did the unthinkable.

"What's wrong?!" Steve searched frantically for a napkin on the kitchen counter, unaware at what to do in this situation. Never in your 10 years of friendship he'd seen you cry. He felt like he popped an endless confetti cannon of sadness.  

You just couldn't get yourself to stop bawling like a newborn baby, you were holding the napkin to your eyes, seeing the leftovers of your mascara pour along the tears on the paper tissue, staining it in blue. The reality of you and Billy no longer being a thing just sunk in and there was no proper way for you to deal with it. "Billy Is what's wrong!" You kept sobbing and Steve patted your back uncomfortably. "That jerk! That fucking jerk is going to dump me! And I don't know why it hurts so much!"  

"(Y/N)…" Steve tried to talk over you in an attempt to soothe your cries but it was impossible.

"He's a jerk! He's always late, he never takes me out on dates, he's so possessive. If he knew where I was right now, he'll lose his shit." You hid your face on your hands, trying to muffle the cries. "And what's worse is that I still can't help but be in love with him! Don't you get it, Steve? I'm fucking screwed! I love him, and if he doesn't love me back I think I'm going to lose it!"  

"But I do get it!" Steve grabbed your shoulders forcefully, trying to shake some sense into you. "My ex-girlfriend is literally in love with creepy Byers and I'm still here! If I could do it, so can you!"

You tried to answer but the only thing Steve could hear was incoherent mumbling. "Come on. I hate to see you like that, you're my friend! He doesn't deserve you."

You dried your red face with the only dry corners of your napkin. "I've been a shitty girlfriend too," you recognize, tears halting but nose still running. "I always yell, I never tell him how much I care for him. I only point out the bad. It's no wonder he's tired of me."

Steve stays quiet, pondering what to say. The problem wasn't Billy, it was the two of you. Neither could react properly whenever problems came up, so it was easy to blow things out of proportion. There's was nothing you could do now, just wait.

"Can you please take me home?" You ask Steve, while dropping the napkin to the kitchen sink.  

He nods and helps you trough the way. It's the only way he could help right now.

*

The next morning you woke up with a hungover and a phone call.

Your phone rang repeatedly before reacting, despite sleeping through the entire morning you were pretty slow to pick up all the signals.  

"Why haven't you called? Where the hell are you?" Was the only thing that could leave your mouth upon hearing the sound of Billy's voice.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm back in Cali and things have been a little sharp," Billy explains apologetically.  

"I know, Lucas told me what Max said. You could have done the same you know? I mean, call," you tone it down, trying to appear less desperate but there was a feeling deep inside of you that wanted to travel on the phone line and shake some sense into him.  

Maybe he was just easing to air so when he came back the blow would be less painful. Whatever he was doing, it wouldn't work anyway, you were too immersed in the Billy part of your mind that nothing could make you feel better at the moment. You just hope you don't sound weak, that's the only thing you want right now.

"I know, I know..." He trails off, leaving the two of you in contemplative silence. Maybe there was nothing left to say, he probably figured out that you knew what was going on.

"Is that all?" You ask, your finger twirling desperately on cord of the phone.

"What? We haven't even talked."

"Well, what do you want to say?"

"Why are you acting like that?"

"Like what?" You question him with an eyebrow raised.  

"Like... I don't know... Are you okay?" You can hear his concern trough the other line. He sounds like he's tired. "I'm sorry for not saying anything, okay? It's just that I haven't got the chance to talk to anybody but my family and Susan's hoarding the phone and-"

"I get it. There's no need to explain," you try to act unbothered, even though everything is itching you right now. Billy stays quiet again and you wait for him to go on.  

"I went to see my mom at the cemetery this morning. I really miss her."  

You smiled bittersweetly to yourself, maybe things weren't so lost if he could still about things that mattered to him. "I'm really glad you could go."

I miss you, you wanted to tell him badly, but you never thought of missing him until now that he was so far away from your grip, you weren't ready to be met with his indifference right now. You've never thought about building patience but you had to because you wouldn't bare to hear that he's letting you go through an expensive phone call.  

"Listen, I have to go now. I don't think I'll be able to call again but I'm back on Tuesday," Billy explained, ending the conversation.

"Alright... I guess I'll see you then."

*

Tuesday couldn't have rolled around so slowly according to you.  

Your parents left this week to New York for a conference and you were stuck with those little rats that were your so-called siblings. The only upside was that you had the car, the downside was that you had to carry them everywhere.

When Lucas asked if you could take him to Max's house you didn't hesitate to put on your coat.  

"Why are you getting out of the car too?" Lucas asked with his typical judgmental look.

"Last time I checked Max and Billy live in the same house," you retorted as a matter-of-fact. You hit him lightly on the head, trying to get him to stop bothering you.  

You two stood side by side on the frame door, trying to seem... "civilized". You and Lucas didn't agree on many things but you two were aware of how scarily weird Billy's father was. Thankfully, Susan was the one who opened the door.

"Hello, Ms. Hargrove-"

"Oh, so suddenly you're acting polite?" Lucas bickered. You turned to him and gave him a threatening stank eye.  

"Is Billy home?" You asked with a fake smile.

Susan offered you a sympathetic grimace. "I'm afraid he went to visit a friend."

Your smile faltered quickly. A friend? Alright... Okay. "Oh, well, thank you!" You stepped down from the main entrance and into the car.  

So, he didn't even have the decency to call you and tell you that he will be up on Tommy's balls for the rest of the day. That's great, just what you needed.

*

After you carefully parked the car outside your house, you laid on the door of it to have a smoke. Your parents would kill you if they knew you smoked, they would kill you if you smoked near the car, but they weren't here so at this point for self-care you might as well do everything you want. It's not like they'll find out.

You were searching for your lighter on your pocket when you were met with an almost blue flame in front of you. You stared at it for a few seconds then gazed into Billy's intense eyes. You wish you could decipher them right now, you always knew how he felt just by his expression, he was an open book of rage and complaints. This time you were in too deep to see clearly.

You accepted the light, non-chalantly. "I thought you were at Tommy's."

"Since when do you know everything I do?" Billy asked in a joking manner. It wasn't funny.

"I dropped Lucas off to your house," you replied. Maybe, Billy wished you would go crazy for him, maybe that's his goal, and it's working. You were the relaxed type, the one to completely trust the other, not even his wavering tongue on cheer practice could raise a hair out of you. He's probably loving this.

"I lied to Susan, I wanted to come here without getting a curfew." He smiled and got closer to you.  

"What makes you think you're staying here for long?" You questioned him in all seriousness.

"Are you still mad because I didn't call you?!" Billy raised his voice and you focused you gaze elsewhere.

"If we're going to fight can we at least do it inside?"

"For fucks sake..." Billy sighed while drawing a hand to his forehead. "I don't want to fight, but it seems these days that's all you want to do."

You stay quiet and Billy lays a hand on your shoulder.  

"Do you expect me to be happy? Tommy said you wanted to dump me," you mentioned quietly, you were all out of energy to even make a big deal of it. What's supposed to happen will happen. "And then you left without a word, so... yeah, I'm not happy."

Billy raised an eyebrow and started to laugh. You frowned and crossed your arms. "I can't believe you fucking paid attention to something that went out of his mouth! You know Tommy is stupid as hell!"  

"I don't fucking care if he's right or wrong," you repeated, your voice cracking slightly. "You didn't tell me anything, so can you blame me for believing it?"

"Jesus... I will kill that motherfucker," Billy muttered while rubbing the bridge of his nose. He outstretched his arms and defended himself, "Babe, I missed you like fucking crazy these past few days! I didn't call because I thought you were still mad about staining your carpet. Last time I checked, you aren't the most fun person to be around when they're angry."  

You widened your eyes at the mention of the nail polish. These days you don't know what was wrong with you but you didn't hesitate to break out into a cry.  

Billy raised both eyebrows in surprise and quickly hugged you. He caressed your back trying to get you to calm down. "Hey, it's okay..."

"I'm sorry!" You exclaimed in between sobs, leaving your tears on his favorite white shirts. "I was the one who dropped the nail polish and I thought you were mad at me, and that you realized how insufferable I am and that you were going to dump me because of that!"

"What are you talking about? You're the only person in my life I can actually tolerate," Billy said while pressing you tightly against his chest. "I'll be crazy to let you go. So, I guess I... forgive you? It's not a big deal."

You breathed in slowly, trying to regain your composure. After a minute or two, you lifted your head from his chest and stared at him. "I bet I look ridiculous right now."

"You always look beautiful to me," he muttered while leaning to peck your lips.  

"I mean it, Billy, I'm sorry," you repeated with an apologetic smile. "Also, I know I don't say this often but... I love you, I really do."

Billy stepped back, his arms still linked on yours. A cocky smirk adorned his face. "You do, huh?"

You nodded sweetly.  

"Guess what?" He lifted you in his arms and you let out a small shriek. "I love you too." He kissed you and carried you inside your house.  

#* #W #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

[raveofsix]

nancy wheeler & jonathan byers

[raveofsix]

you will never be lovelier than you are now (billy hargrove x reader) 

warnings: drunkenness, non-erotic sex, intense angst. 

word count: give or take 1.6k

a/n: this is more self-reflective than anything.

You wake up.

You wake up —

You wake up on the floor of Lynn’s house, not on the couch, not on a bed, not even on the carpet, but on the aquamarine diamond tiles of her kitchen. You wake up head pounding, your side tacky with slowly-drying spiked watermelon punch. You wake up with your mouth dry and tasting slightly of puke, your hands shivering, your bra not on. And most of all, you wake up not knowing where Billy is.

You wake up to the nature of your relationship.

+

See, before that night, you’d begun to trick yourself, a little. You’d look at Billy and see … god, you don’t even know what you’d see. Maybe a pretty little house with rose hedges beneath the windows. Maybe sleepily walking down the stairs in his shirt at twenty-three and watching him make toast. Maybe kisses, maybe fights, maybe … a future. Well, not anymore. Not after that night. You weren’t going to let yourself get caught up in delusions.

The worst part is that really, you couldn’t even blame him. It was Billy, for god’s sakes! Billy. Billy had made it perfectly clear from the very beginning, from the very moment he’d cornered you in front of your locker with that easy, heartbreaking smile: this was friends-with-benefits. Nothing more. Not even exclusive friends-with-benefits. Oh, yeah, we got liberal all of a sudden up here, smack-dab in rural fucking Indiana, home of the Reaganites. It made sense, honestly, if you really thought about it, which you hadn’t — he was Californian. That should have been enough warning. Pretty little Hawkins-born-and-bred girl falling for a bronzed Malibu boy with a car like that? Sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. Was the beginning of a bad joke.

Anyways. It wasn’t like he was the first boy you’d ever kissed or fooled around with or made looooove to, but. It hurt, anyways. It just — the explanation’s easy, you just can’t get it out. Billy was … Billy was everything. For a good while. You’d felt like his cocky, party boy front had started to fall away around you. He’d play with your hair sometimes, in front of other people, just twining a soft flyaway curl that had fallen from your ponytail around a finger all absent-minded. Or he’d lean back in his chair in chemistry and nod for you to lean forward and put his mouth right by your ear and say aren’t you bored taking so many notes, doll? And you’d fall into the intoxicating veil of nicotine that seemed to cloak him always, but sometimes you could smell the faint notes of his cologne through it all too: white tobacco flowers and cedarwood. You’d share cigs sometimes, behind the bleachers. He’d leave parties with you over and over again, early sometimes even, and you’d known how much he’d loved his parties. He’d put his hand on your neck when he noticed you freaking out. And every time he’d kiss you it was like he thought morning would never come and he’d never get this chance, this feeling, this breathless moment in a bathroom with you pressed up against peach-pink tiles and lightbulbs hot above your head and his hand beginning to tug at your underwear ever again, not ever —

God! You were so stupid. Cigs and little touches and the way he kissed? You were by far the stupidest girl in this town and the next three over and maybe if you wanted to be realistic, the whole of fucking Indiana. Billy Hargrove was a player through and through, and an asshole to boot, and despite all of this, you getting your heart stepped on wasn’t even a little bit his fault. How’s that for tragedy?

+

You fuck him nine nights later. After your whole sudden understanding of the Billy situation. It’s not like this was unexpected, after all, you’re the self-proclaimed stupidest girl in all of Indiana. Actually no, let’s remedy this, stupidest girl in all the US of A. God, you try, though. You try. You try your fucking hardest. And, again, like your reasoning for all other idiotic things you find yourself doing, the explanation is one little three-syllable phrase: it’s Billy. But also, this was more than a week. You think you deserve props for that, honestly.

Saturday evening, 7:35 p.m., your mum up in Michigan visiting Grammy and your dad at a conference in Maine. The house is all yours, and you’ve decided you’re going to spend the whole night watching Seinfeld and eating caramel popcorn. And more, probably. Like blackberry ice cream, maybe, and honeyed toast, and that leftover espresso cake topped with whip Mum left for you and ugh! So many things to eat. One night only. You’re ready for it though. It’s your all-in-one relaxation and for-god’s-sake-how-long-are-you-going-to-pine-over-Billy night. It’s just a shame your best friend couldn’t come over, but you know, geography test Monday. You knew how it was. Plus, you knew how Mrs. Dobervitch was. She wasn’t called Doberbitch for nothing. So you were all alone.

And then your doorbell rings, and it’s all, ooh-aah, hmmmm, I didn’t order pizza, oh no, is it a serial killer?! for a moment and then you open the door and who is it but Billy. Billy, the boy who you’ve been ignoring for the past week like the plague. Billy, who this whole damn night is dedicated to getting over. Billy, who is standing in front of you, leather jacket damp and abdomen studded in silvered raindrops and jaw clenched like he can’t fucking believe you —

And oh god, can you really read him that well? You really are in love with him.

“Y/N, doll,” he says, carefully, like he’s choosing each word warily, “Why haven’t you spoken to me in for two weeks?”

You hem. You haw. You really do it all. “Well, um … tests! And stuff. Just lots and lots of uh … testing. Essays. You know. Studying.” You smile, you do that exaggerated-exasperated little giggle everyone sort of does, and when he keeps pinning you down with that clear blue scrutiny you go on defense. You cross your arms, shift, push out your hip and there, right there, is where you make your mistake. Turns out he can read you just as well as you can read him. His eyes drop, fall on the little sliver of skin between the enormous HHS sweater you have on and the fleecy tea rose polka-dot pajamas you have on, study the soft curve right there before flicking up to meet your gaze again.

“What?” You say, self-consciously, and alter your position again.

“Nothing,” he says, finally, rolling his tongue over the front of his teeth. “Nothing.” he repeats, and tugs at your elbow a little so you fall into him, “I just wanted to fuck you. It’s been a while, ‘sall.”

You do. Obviously. Fuck him, you mean. Seinfeld, blackberry ice cream, quilts, a cozy night — it’s all forgotten in the inexplicable magnetism of Billy’s presence. You’re wrapped around him in the span of a single second, warming all his chilly mist-kissed skin underneath your fingertips. His tongue is in your mouth. His hands hike up your thighs around him as he carries you up the stairs. Your sweater is left behind on the steps, his jacket and shirt too. He kisses you hungrily, just the way he always has, like you’re something too precious to name. He puts you up against the window and the blue glass is so cold against your front and you can see winter and stars swirling just through it. You point to a spot on your back and say kiss me here. And he does. You point again and he does. And again and again and again and he’s got you so filled up and you feel so good —

You both cum and you suck his dick after for kicks and then he’s asleep under the covers of your bed, face gentle. Slack. Lips soft and parted, hand still draped lazily over your calf. Satiated. And all you can do is sit there and ask yourself why. Why’d you fall so fast. Why’d you turn out so easy for him. Why’d you let him even touch you tonight.

You look at him and that serene face and you know why he looks that way. He’s satisfied. He’ll be sweet tonight. Tomorrow. For three days. And then it’ll be Friday. You’ll be at another party. You’ll be so fucking happy. He’ll be smiling into your hair. He’ll beat his record as keg king and it’ll make him so fucking drunk. You’ll drink and drink and drink, too. Laugh out something about ‘moral support’ as you down the next one. And then you’ll start making out with Billy against a wall, and it’ll be so voyeuristic, because even through fifteen barrels of malt beer, that boy’s gaze is filthy enough that even completely sloshed you can feel it burning on your face. Billy’ll slide his fingers into you and you’ll go oh and then Billy doesn’t care anymore, ‘cause there’s weed at another party apparently, and you won’t feel too bad, really, you’ll just keep drinking and oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. Why are you like this? Why do you keep letting him in? Billy leaves with Tommy and Carol and three other boys — one of which being that lecherous one — and you’re left in a house full of people who don’t really care about you.

That was last Friday. That’ll be this Friday. That’ll be every Friday after too if you keep letting this go on.

You start crying and you think maybe if Billy woke up, maybe if Billy kissed it all away —

He doesn’t. Come on, what is this, a fairy tale? You aren’t a princess and Billy definitely isn’t a prince.

Remember. Stupidest girl in Indiana. Sorry, sorry. US of A.

#fav #go off

[raveofsix]

Better than the Sun

Summary: Billy’s old friend from California is coming to visit and it sparks a conversation that reveals your and Billy’s insecurities about your relationship and future.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Language, Anxiety

          “Is he really just a friend?” you asked.

           Billy scoffed at your question. “I can’t believe you would even ask that, babe.”

          It was the fourth time you’d asked that in two weeks. If he was annoyed, he didn’t show it and continued meticulously parting his fringe in his bedroom mirror. The entire room smelled like tinny hairspray, axe, and sweat, and if you hadn’t known that Billy’s best friend from California was coming over for spring break, you’d have thought he was getting ready for prom.

Seguir leyendo

#fav #a bop

[raveofsix]

oops i deleted a fic without thinking it, well i ain’t going to upload it again bc i’m studying but if anybody wants it tell me but tbh... it’s better if it stays deleted xoxo

#also somebody recommend me music i like anything that's funky and doesn't suck

[raveofsix]

just a little drabble i keep thinking about

-

pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

warning: a lil’ nsfw

-

you could feel his eyes stick you like glue, you knew he was staring at you but you didn’t want to look back at him. You and both wanted to keep the little moment you were having right there in class. Each minute that passed that he kept his eyes on you became harder and harder to pay attention to whatever you were learning in pre calculus. 

You’re friend next to you nudged your elbow and whispered in your ear, “Honey, I don’t know if you know, but Billy keep staring at you with the hottest smirk on his face. I think he’s got the hots for you.” She smiled and cheered you on quietly. What she didn’t know was the story behind why he kept staring at you, the two of you kept your little relationship hush hush.

Last night was quite the night for the both of you, it was your first time in a long time with anybody and he swore you gave him the best orgasm he had ever had, and that’s saying a lot. You couldn’t help but to look over your shoulder and peek at him, but he caught you and sent you a wink with his signature smirk. Your heart raced and a blush crept on your face, you bit your lip to hold in your smile. 

He knew what he was doing to you and it caused him to chuckle slightly. Your friend looked at the both of you and then dropped her jaw, “Y/N, is there something you’re not telling me?” She asked. Billy over heard the conversation and licked his bottom lip in a smirk. The both of you just shook your heads at your friend’s curiosity. “You’re delusional, that’s all.” You told her and patted her hand softly.

#fav #😋

[raveofsix]

1 and 5 for the music ask

1.What’s on your oldest playlist?

uhhhhhhhhhhh it’s definitely not my oldest but it’s the oldest i could find, it’s huge but i’ll name a few: Burnin’ by Daft Punk, Fast As You Can by Fiona Apple, I Feel Love - Donna Summer, Never There - Cake, Mi destino - Glup, Be The One - Dua Lipa, Solo un segundo - Bacilos, and many others.

2. Top 5 breakup/Sad love songs.

I like to think i’m pretty optimistic when it comes to music so... take these songs with a grain of salt: Ahora me llama (Karol G ft. Bad Bunny lol), You (Che Ecru), King of Sorrow (Sade), them changes (Thundercat), I’m honestly not a gangster (Jerry Folk), also... any Kilo Kish song if you just want to have an existencial crisis.

#Anonymous

[raveofsix]

playlist asks

1 - What’s on your oldest playlist?

2 - Make a 5 song playlist of guilty pleasure songs

3 - What are 5 songs you would do a lip sync to?

4 - What’s the playlist you most recently listened to?

5 - Top 5 breakup/sad love songs

6 - 5 songs you would do Just Dance to

7 - List all the songs you like in another language

8 - Which song is stuck in your head?

9 - Spotify or Pandora?

10 - 5 songs for being in love and pining

11 - Top 5 songs from a musical or movie

12 - Currently if you could listen to 3 songs forever what would they be?

13 - Make a playlist of 5 songs that evoke memories

14 - What are 5 songs you know all the lyrics to, and would go hard to if they came on?

15 - What musician do you like that your friends would probably have no clue even exist?

16 - Make a playlist of 5 songs that came out the year you were born

17 - What are your top 5 “Oldies” jams?

18 - Make a playlist of the top 5 covers of songs

19 - Earbuds or Headphones?

20 - Make a playlist of the last 5 songs you can remember listening to

21 - What are 5 songs that you would put on a movie score?

22 - Which song have you heard everywhere lately?

23 - 5 friends and the song you associate them with

24 - Concept playlists evoking an aesthetic or mixes of recent favorites?

25 - Would you let your parents listen to all your music?

BONUS: Link your spotify account or other accounts for music sites

[raveofsix]

Nancy + parallels with the other Stranger Things girls.

requested by anonymous ♡

[raveofsix]

Starlets Natalia Dyer and Charlie Heaton being sweet at the Dior event in Los Angeles

#💖

[raveofsix]

also i know for a fact that billy is smart like i bet he’s so good at calc. he actually is really good at solving calc problems and he’s good with his homework he does it real fast and he gets good grades on his tests and his teacher is so confused because he’s obviously gifted with mathematics but he acts like he doesn’t give a shit. also he loves hands on stuff so he really likes chemistry and he likes lab days a lot. he still acts like he doesn’t care but he’s really good with the labs and setting it up. he also lowkey thinks the AV club sounds really cool and maybe when he’s waiting on max after school he waits in the science room with her and the kids and he acts annoyed be he’s lowkey watching what they’re doing and he’s so into it. anyways i Only speak facts on this blog everything i said here is real and true and canon.

#them facts

[raveofsix]

Could you do #247 with Billy?

“How much is a lot?” / Requests are CLOSED. / I don’t own the GIF used below.

“Billy?” You knocked on thebathroom door again. “Billy, are you okay?” It seemed like he hadbeen in there for a long time. It was strange that he had the doorlocked as well since he had never had any problem with peeing whileit was wide open, talking to you wherever you might have been in theapartment. He had been in there since you arrived home from schooland you expected that he would have emerged by the time you changedout of your scrubs and into something that didn’t smell like a hardday of practicum.

“Yeah. I’ll just be another minute.”He called back, sounding pre-occupied.

“Are you sick from last night?”Usually, you wouldn’t pry, but he had crashed at his friend’s thenight before, so you never saw him stumble home. Ever since hestarted taking Fridays off in place for working Mondays, he treatedThursdays as an excuse to get wasted with his bodies.

“No.” Billy called back. He pridedhimself on not getting hungover anymore. He drank so routinely asteenager that his body just accepted that he treated it like garbagenow, showing little to no effects of rowdy nights out anymore. “Idrank a lot though. Like a lot.”Billy was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to spell his ownname last night if someone asked him. In fact, he had no how he evenmade it back to Jay’s.

“Howmuch is a lot?” Taking your hand from the closed door finally, youasked with worried brows. You had seen Billy crush a twelve pack andcontinue to work on someone else’s. He was the definition of a tank.If he felt like it was worth mentioning, you could only imagine allthe liquor he poured freely into his body while out with his threemain amigos.

Thedoor unlocked, a small click as signal, and very slowly he pulled itopen to reveal himself in the bathroom light. He was in his mostcomfortable pair of charcoal colored sweats, his St. Christophernecklace, and nothing else.  His perfect chest served as such a gooddistraction that it took you a moment to notice the change, the sideeffect from being a black out mess the night before.

Agasp fled from your mouth like a small critter from out of a hole inthe wall and you brought one up to slap over it. Eyes as wide as yourmouth, you slowly reached up to feel around his neck. It was as ifyou needed to touch his head to make sure his mullet was actuallygone. You squinted and gasped again as you reached up and felt it. Itwas as if you were living inside of your own daytime talk showmake-over episode.

“Jaycut it off when we were drunk.” It was probably the only reasonBilly even agreed to let someone touch his beloved locks. “I got itfixed this morning.” It had been the first thing he did aftercoming home to brush his teeth. Billy practically ran into the barbershop to fix the lopsided ‘do his buddy gave him in the middle of arundown kitchen and in-between gulps of tequila. “I told you Idrank a lot.”

“Ilove it!” You almost cut him off, reaching with both hands now toplay with the styled look. “You look so hot. I want to pick you upat a bar.”

“Youalready did that two years ago.” Billy teased, feeling a lotlighter now that you had approved of his new hair. “I was worriedyou were only with me for the mullet.” Bashfully, he admitted as heshut off the bathroom light and leaned into you.

“Oh,you didn’t need to worry about that.” Laughing, very earnestly, youassured him and kept playing with the short ends of his hair. “Thisis way better.” You stood up straighter to kiss him, toes againsthis, and considered writing his friend, Jay the perpetually stoneddog-walker, a thank you card.

#this is so sweet :')

[raveofsix]

#79 Billy plz

#79. “Give me more.” from here!!

A/N: It took a while but I think I got it.

Word count: 1K.

Billy thought archery was the dumbest sport to ever exist in the history of shitty sports, right behind chess, but even he knows it’s because he’s jealous that those people could hit the right target. He knows he didn’t.

He realizes just now, with Alexandra Kensington snoring sweetly against his bare chest that you were the hit. The self-proclaimed funny friend, the supporting role with a heart of gold; he ends up with the star of the show, golden hair shining through the halls and a smile surrounded by pink plump lips.

If there’s a lesson he learned is that he should never trust his instincts, the less Alexandra had paid attention to him the more he felt compelled to get her. The battle was against his ego, the struggle of getting the perfect ten of Hawkins high school versus the fact that his heart didn’t pound in his chest whenever she smiled at him.  

It was long before he asked for your help to get to her. You, the girl who collected oversized jackets from older college guys, the one he borrowed cigarettes from and knew would hold your best friend’s shiny blonde hair whenever she needed to puke. You rolled your eyes, smoke leaving your mouth as you clarified, “Perfect girls don’t puke.”

“Whatever, I still need your help.” Billy tapped his foot frantically against the dust behind the bleachers on the football field. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

You stepped on the butt of your worn-out cigarette and fiddled around Trevor Coulson’s brown leather jacket, searching for another one. “What do I get?”

“The happiness of seeing your best friend with somebody like me?” Billy looked at you as if you were crazy.

You groaned, flinging a playful punch on his shoulder with your tiny fist. Billy caught it before you could hit him, his soft hand lowering yours softly. “I mean it.” You swallow, trying to get rid of the dry ashy taste in your mouth. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you a ride to school.”

“Only one?”

Billy let go of your hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Ugh, whenever you want to, I don’t care!”

You laughed at his desperation. After bickering back and forth, trying to rile Billy up by touching his earring, he relented into buying you fries every Friday to discuss strategy.  

“You’re talking about this as if it were some kind of war,” Billy complained after mixing the mustard with the ketchup on top of the fries.

“God, don’t mix it!” You softly slapped off his hand, trying to get him to stop. “And it is a kind of war! I’m telling you by experience, there’s nothing harder than conquering Alex’s panties.”

“By experience?” He raises a suggestive eyebrow while taking a slow chew off his fries. You frown at him, then go back to eating your spotless part of the basket of fries.

After a whole month of painful jabs at his style, harmonious laughs directed at the creeps of school and countless bottles of beer and fries paid at the diner located at outskirts of town, you came to greet him with a beautiful smile to his passenger seat on a Wednesday.

You were a tornado of pointless words, you insisted with crinkling eyes and white teeth that Barbie’s distant cousin was giving you a chance. You called him a champion, brushed his hair and encouraged him to take her to see the new Tom Cruise movie.  

“Of course, he has nothing on you!” You joked, putting his hair in place, preparing him to meet his meaningless goal.  

Billy nodded, his eyes looking somewhere else. You laid back with a funny look on your face. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happier.”

He blinked quickly, waking up from his daydream. “Uh… nothing. Umm… thanks, for everything.” Billy paused to look at your face of enlightenment. Did you truly feel happy to see him go to someone else? It doesn’t feel right for him, he wonders if you can spot it. “You’re amazing, really.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “I know, right!”

“I mean it, thanks.” He clutches his hands on the steering wheel, even though he’s already parked outside of school, not having any emergency escape for what’s about the be the worst decision he’s ever made.

“Aww,” you coo, fluttering your lashes. “Don’t sweat it, that’s what friends are for.”

That’s what friends are for… That’s what friends are for?!

Billy quickly takes out his keys from the ignition and asks, “Where’s Alex?”

He doesn’t pick you up until next Monday, you were away partying with Tony Coates in Indianapolis in what you deemed a self-made vacation. Billy is quiet during the whole car ride and he’s sure that you’re still a little hungover from partying back-to-back for almost four days straight.  

“So how did it go?” You ask, taking a chug of your water bottle.  

“Fine,” he mutters, while taking out a Marlboro, his third of the day. He smoked two before picking you up, three blocks away from your house, only by the mere thought of facing you.  

“It doesn’t seem fine to me,” you retaliate, pointing a him with your index finger while the others held the plastic bottle. “You have to give me more details.”

“Didn’t she tell you anything?” He questions with a far more irritable voice than before.

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, I’m asking you because I’m seeing you first.”

Billy stretches his arms forcefully while facing you. “Fine, you want me to give you more! It went perfect, in fact, we fucked in the same seat you were just sitting recently.” He started flailing his arms and you looked at him with a confused look on your face.  

“Or at least, it should have been perfect! But the truth is that… she wasn’t you! I wanted you! I thought of you whenever I kissed her, I tried to picture your face whenever she told a humorless joke as if I could actually laugh at it. I had to keep my eyes open at all time because I fucking knew… I knew the moment I closed them that I would be calling out your name instead of hers…” Billy rubbed his forehead frantically while going back to sitting on his beloved navy-colored spaceship. “Are you happy? Are those the details you wanted?”

You stared at him, like an emotionless mannequin. Suddenly, as if an arrow shot straight through it, your water bottle fell from your grip, the water flowing on the colorless asphalt.  

#* #W #Billy hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove #Billy hargrove imagine #Stranger things imagine #Stranger things fanfiction #Anonymous

[raveofsix]

#😛💕💕💕💕

[raveofsix]

Relapse

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader.

Summary: It’s your first winter break in Hawkins since starting college and despite having discovered new ways of living, there’s an arrow that brings you back into your old habits.

Word count: 3.3K.

Warnings: Drug use, swearing (?).

A/N: I don’t like this but maybe someone will.

You were proud to say that you’ve done it all before graduating. 

(Except getting good grades).

You’ve managed to replace your parent’s chandelier without them finding out; you got your best friends Brooke Adler and Archie Holt together; and had set-up Julian McGee to lose his virginity, something everyone deemed impossible. What had all those things in common? They all happened at your parties.  

It’s been a week into winter break and everyone was prodding you with sticks, coaxing you at every corner you went to throw a party. It’s not every time that the Hawkins generation of 1986 is in town.

So, it came as a surprise to Archie and Brooke when you said yes.  

Brooke popped her bubblegum with a frown and Archie stared at you with a mocking smile. “I thought those day were over,” he said, linking his chocolate hand over Brooke’s ivory one that was trailing trough his big curls.

“They never will be over,” you state as you poured gently the weed on the rolling paper.

Brooke widened her baby blue eyes at the sight of what was more weed than paper. “You’re sure you’ll be able to roll that?”

You shushed her and she rolled her eyes.

Archie rest his sneakers on top the small table located in your basement. “Right… I forgot you stopped making them because you were too busy sucking face with Billy.”

You frowned and pushed his feet off the table. “Everyone shut up if you want this thing to come out right.”

Archie and Brooke at side eyed each other and laughed. “I forgot, we couldn’t talk about him unless we wanted the devil herself to come out,” Brooke joked in between giggles. “Where is he anyway?”

Your frown deepened as your fingers traveled through the paper. “Why should I know? Probably in California. Maybe he’s even dead, I’m not joking.”

That was a lie. He was here. You were travelling around with Garret in his Dad’s BMW, it rolled smoothly through the asphalt but you were used to the roaring sound of Camaros by now. You passed by the comic book store, the one your annoying little cousin frequently visited, when you saw Max enter next to a blond stranger.  

Except it wasn’t a stranger; he may have cut his hair but you saw the scar in the back of his neck, you’re one of the few people who have seen it under the amount frizzy curls. You still remember the flavor as you licked it, it was his hidden spot, the one that made him go weak.

The red flame brought you back to the reality. “I think you should definitely light it up,” Archie mentioned as he held his favorite lighter in his hands.

Stacey Kane’s side-eye burned into you as you stepped onto the supermarket, fingers intertwined with Garrett. The smell of envy reeked off in aisle 6, where she was working promoting a brand-new type of Colombian coffee. It surprised you how much Hawkins had grown over the years, you still remember the only place to buy food in your childhood was Joe’s convenience store.  

Stacey tried hard to offer you a winning smile but the dead weight behind her eyes gave her away. “Hey Garrett! (Y/N)…”

Garrett, with his oh-so-charming dimples, grazed her presence with his pearls as he leaned to kiss her cheek. You smiled a little uncomfortable by her burning stare and you understood why she acted that way, you would too.  

It was the same stare that many girls gave you after you stepped one early morning, purple bags under your eyes, arms linked with Billy Hargrove as he smiled down on you. That wasn’t supposed to happen, you were barely a seven in a sea of tens but he said he loved your smile whenever he cracked a lousy joke, the way you pretended to pay attention in biology class and how in his darkest days you always offered a hand to hold on to the abyss.  

Those are the same things Garrett likes about you, but what you like about him is so different from what you used to like about Billy.  

(Things that you don’t know if you still like).

You and Garrett weren’t meant to happen either, while you were smoking weed under the bleachers in high school, he was taking family post cards for Christmas. You and him were the only people in Hawkins that studied in Chicago, he got a sports scholarship, you studied business because you had no idea what to do. In the end, being lonely wasn’t the plan for anyone, so he invited you out for a drink. By the fifth shot of Tequila he felt something he hadn’t felt with busty girls like Heather Grey or Jennifer Flynn’s symmetrical face.  

There you were, hand in hand with Garrett Masters, owner of the hearts of all the girls that rode horses for fun and whose daddies had stocks in the market. He smiles at you and it’s genuine, you had the perfect guy by your side and the only thing you could think about is that you should be happy by now.  

“(Y/N) is throwing a party this Friday, do you want to come?” Garrett asks Stacey. Her whole face lights up and her hostility is left behind in the string of irrational hate at the thought of barfing in your little brother’s bathroom as the most promising event in her whole vacation.

You were roaming through the candy aisle, a dozen of red cups in your hand when you spotted the mane of a lioness.  

Max’s eyes crinkled and her lips widened at your appearance. You smiled from afar, your cheek’s hue more vibrant. You approached her, trying to balance the cups in your grip. “Maxine.” You nodded.

She rolled her eyes and punched you playfully in your arm. “You know I hate Maxine.”

“You’ve grown,” you mentioned with a cozy smile. “I bet sooner you’ll be taller than me.”

Max laughed as she stuffed her hands on the pocket of her green hoodie. “Now you sound like my grandmother.” She lifted her hands and mimicked pinching your cheeks in her best impersonation, “Oh, Maxine, such a wonderful young lady!”

You snorted at her impression. “At least you grandmother doesn’t give you the stink eye whenever you mess up the lyrics of church songs.”

Max let out a groan of disgust at your statement; you’ll take grandma’s that overfeed you any day over channel bags and dogs that eat better than you. “So…” Max asks hesitantly, as if to check if she’s trespassing boundaries. “Who’s the guy you’re with?” She eyes behind you, where Garrett was checking in countless of options for gummy bears to stick down his drink, the sweet flavor of hangover intensified.

You sigh and curve the corner of your lips upward at a question you knew that was coming. “Just a guy… who might be more than just a guy.”

“Oh.” Max nods in thought, her foot tapping on the clean floor of the supermarket. “Well, Billy won’t be happy to hear that.”

You tried not to think of him during her whole conversation with his sister, but it was hard, you were there when they both cried as they hugged each other the moment they decided to really be siblings instead of strangers that lived together, you were there to figure her out whenever Billy needed quick help to get Max on his good side. They may not look the same nor share the same blood but her witty tongue and her ability to overpower anyone in sight – in a less frightening manner—reminded you so much of him it was hard to repress the thoughts that now, as she mentioned his name, came crashing through your chest and made your heartbeat pound effortlessly like sticks on a drum.  

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him, though.” She pats your shoulder and winks at you as she walks away, joining her dark-skinned friend that was waiting on the end of the aisle with a face of boredom. You wave goodbye to her with a confused look on your face.  

Suddenly you feel two arms wrap around your waist, holding a pack of gummy bears, tropical flavor. “Who was that?” Garrett asks, setting his chin on top of your head.

“Nobody,” You mumble as you observe Max’s wild curls bounce away.

You were in a corner, your red lips matching your cup, listening to Jason Cho’s completely ridiculous conspiracy theories. His countless idiotic friends were next to you, nodding unquestioningly. You had to admit he had a crazy amount of creativity. You were planning to at least get some time with drunk Garrett, he was an extremely fun person to be around when didn’t watch his limit.  

But he was sick with the flu, so in turn you had to succumb into the monster you had created.

So far the party has been a success. You heard Tommy and Carol were coming so you’ve secured the locks on all the rooms that had beds in them. Billy always joked that you both would outlast them without a doubt, but it was a joke so it wasn’t necessarily meant to be true.

“Lucky you! Whoever said you were screwed after Billy dumped you clearly was wrong!” Carol slurred while shaking your shoulders. You didn’t hate her and if you did sometimes, it wasn’t for her mean streak, it was mostly because she didn’t shut up. Just like now. You guess you preferred when she was a purposeful bitch than one in the guise of being your friend.

“Thank? I guess?” You took a long sip from your drink, hoping to get the buzz that made talking to these people bearable.

“Oh man!” Tommy slapped your back unconsciously, then laughed loudly. “You should have seen Billy’s face when we told him you were dating Garrett.”

Carol joined his laughter, head thrown back, hands over her stomach. “Yeah! He was all red and furious, it was hilarious!”

Was that supposed to make you feel better? Even before knowing about you and Garrett, he still chose to hang out with the people that gave him constant headaches over searching for you. Where did that put you? Just because he got angry over something he lost, didn’t mean anything if he wasn’t there to make amends.

Maybe it was better if he wasn’t here.

Brooke widened her eyes at the scene of you trapped in between the human entities of stupidity. She quickly made her way over you and grabbed you by the arm, rescuing you from the grips of evil. “What the hell?” She asked.

“I don’t even know anymore.” You shook your head, taking another sip as you leaned against the wall. “Where’s Archie? I’m surprised you’re not with him?”

“Well…” She gave you a sheepish grin. “He’s upstairs trying to unlock the door from the guest room.”

You rolled your eyes and handed her the key in your back pocket. She gave you a gigantic hug, almost spilling all of the contents from her cup in the process. “I’ll leave them on you father’s desk as always.” She sauntered upstairs, holding her skirt from complete exposure.

You sighed and finished the remains of your drink.  

“Enjoying the party?” You feel the thick leather touch your naked arm and the pace of your heart quickens. You hesitated when you turn to face the familiar voice because you don’t know if you’re ready. The truth is that you never were ready for him.

You didn’t expect him to come here, you didn’t invite him, but it was hard in such a small town for word to not go around. Still, even if he heard about it, you didn’t expect him here.

“No.” You stare at the blue of Billy’s eyes, trying to transmit everything you want to say in a single look.

Billy smirked. From afar it wasn’t that drastic as it looked now, up close under the dim light of the hall, his hair was gone. The same one you used to run your fingers to. It didn’t matter because you weren’t going to do it again. “Well, it is true that your past parties were better but-”

“That was just because we were in high school. Back then we entertained ourselves by throwing empty flower vases to the floor. Luckily, we’ve all grown up now, I suppose.” You look at him with a challenging smile. You still remember your friendship with Billy started with you chasing him into buying your mother a new vase for her fake lilies.

“Come on, will you ever forgive me for that?” He chuckled.

“Never,” you stated with a cocky smirk on your lips.  

He handed you a cup with your favorite drink. “How’s university going?” He asks.  

“Alright, I guess.” You shrug with a grimace. “Why are you back in Hawkins? Thought you left for good.”

“So you didn’t want me here?” He asks mockingly. You don’t answer. “Wow, alright… I just came to visit Max. She told me she saw you the other day.”

“She’s taller now,” you mention while moving to sit on the stairs.  

“She also told me…” He licked his lower lip reluctantly. “That you were with someone.”

You frown and put down your cup on the floor. “Is that why you’re here?” You reprimanded him, your voice getting louder, “We haven’t seen each other for months and that’s why you came here?”

“It’s more complicated than that, what was I supposed to do?”

Yes, it was complicated, yet you both knew the answer. He should have never even thought of leaving a post it on your lamp as a goodbye, his I have to let you go doesn’t mean anything because you had chosen him, and his you deserve better has no value if you didn’t get what you wanted. He should have taken you to California.

That was the right answer but what was the point in saying it, time has already passed. “Do you want to go the basement? I think it’s better if we catch up in there,” you say, while pointing with your head to the chatty group of juniors whose name you didn’t even know, staring as if they discovered fire.

Billy chuckled and led the way, this has been his house as much as yours for the past two years. You could see in his face how badly he wanted to turn this situation into an innuendo, the kinds that started as a joke then turned hands tightening around your throat and trail of kisses down his torso.  

The only thing he could gain was a frown from you, he always thought those were the worst. So, he kept his mouth quiet as he took his spot in the couch to the left. He scrunched his nose at the melody playing through the room. “What is this bullshit?”

You deadpanned from the other side of the small table, in you designated spot. “It’s not bullshit, it’s house music.”

“It’s a what now?”

“It’s Chicago music.” You sighed as you withdrew a cigarette from its package. “It’s cool to get high to.” You nodded with a conspiratory smile, the went back to your regular face. “Garrett’s friends invite us after the games to the power plant. He’s not a big fan but I am.”

You lit up the cigarette, never leaving his sight, trying to figure out his mood. If he was angry he wasn’t showing it. You stretched your feet on the couch and laid your head on the side, cigarette hanging in your lips. “How’s California?”

Billy smiled to himself, hands over his knees. “It’s cool, it’s cool.” You kept yourself from rolling your eyes, if he left it was the bare minimum that he was at least happy on his own. “Though, something is missing.”

You turned your head to him, hair cascading on the couch, smoke leaving your mouth. He was waiting for an answer, maybe even for you to yell at him but you went back to observing the ceiling. “What do you do there?”

Billy threw his hands over his head as if to brace himself for what was supposed to be a long story.

It went on and on, the duration of the night consisted in asking about each other’s life, cracking jokes about each other’s misery, reminiscing about old stories and uncomfortable moments of silence whenever either mentioned the name of said impostor.  

You were now both face to face, separated by the table, bodies leaning in laughter. You forgot what was so funny in the first place.  

The laughs died down and Billy breathed in. “You know, I’m really happy to be here with you even if it’s for a second.”

Your face softened. “Billy…”

“Please just, listen to me.” He held your hand over the table. “Just forget about that guy for a second and tell me you feel the same way for him as you used to do for me.”

“That’s so unfair, you can’t put me in that situation.” You let go of his hands only to put them over your lap.  

“Just tell me you love him and I’ll leave you alone!” His voice rises and he stands up. “We can make this work, I’ll make this work!”

“Billy, you don’t understand…” You mutter, while rubbing the bridge of your nose, eyes closes. “I don’t think… I’ll ever trust you again.”

Billy slouches on his shoulder and takes a deep breath. “What do you mean?”

“You left me!” You exclaimed while rising to face him. “I was lost, I didn’t even know what to do after school and you just left! I would have followed you anywhere…” You crossed your arms and turned around to keep him from seeing the tears that threatened to spill on the old dirty rug.

He gets slowly gets closer to you, laying a hand on your shoulder. “I’m here now, and I won’t leave. I’ll be the one to follow you. I’ll do everything it takes, I swear,” He said softly, as to not set out the bomb that you became. “But if you really want me to leave, you need to say it. I’ll do whatever you need because I still love you. I love you.”  

You shifted slightly and billy rounded you to see your face. Your eyes red like an albino rat and nose running like a 2nd grader and he still thought you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. He poses a hand under your chin, lifting your face so you can meet him.  

His eyes scream Say it! but you wouldn’t risk your heart for him again, you couldn’t bear to stick the broken pieces in a mess of glue that will never dry. The truth is that you’re beginning to think that you’ll never stop loving him, there wasn’t a single thing about him that you didn’t miss, even the things that you hated. You could do without reckless driving and irrational jealousy everyday but you couldn’t do without him, even at his worst you still wanted him. And at his best… he was simply unstoppable. There was no way you could describe how you felt next to him, but when you tried, it all boiled down to how his eyes lit up the darkest road, how his arms were more welcoming than a sweet choir of angels,and his smile… his smile simply offered you the best days of your life.

“I… I love…” You take a deep breath and you open your eyes. “Garrett.”

Billy lowers his hand from your face and you see his face contort into something you couldn’t quite describe, it was as if he were mad with himself. You gulped, still feeling the hot air of his breaths on your pores. You stare down to the floor, unable to see his face.

“Then I need you to prove it.” That’s when he grabs your cheeks and smashes your lips onto his, feeling the tart flavor of nicotine for the first time in months. The way your mouth fit into his was like a puzzle whose missing piece was finally found.  

All it took was just one kiss to come undone.

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