#billy hargrove ficlet

[weird-an]

"For fuck's sake."

Jim already has a headache and apparently it's gonna get much worse. He pours himself a cup of the shittiest coffee in Hawkins and turns to the kid sitting in front of his desk.

"What happened, kid?" he asks. "Why would you do that?"

Billy Hargrove reeks of cheap liquor, trouble and the metallic smell of blood. His lip is split and he looks like he hasn't slept in a week or so.

Billy doesn't answer, just glares at him.

"Breakin' and entering is no joke," Jim starts again. He sounds as pissed off as he feels, because he still has Mrs. Carters shrill voice in his ear, calling from Loch Nora about a burglar, about her fancy neighborhood getting sullied.

"I didn't do shit," Billy protests. "I…was just…"

He falls silent, mouth snapping shout like he regrets he even said a word.

"What?" Jim probes, because there's a piece of the puzzle missing.

Billy shakes his head, lips thin.

"Should I call the Harrington's and ask if you were invited?" Jim knows he's an asshole, but it comes more naturally to him than being nice.

Something flashes across Billy's face and his tan gets drained out by miserable paleness.

"Don't call them," Billy says, fingers digging into his thigh so hard his knuckles turn white.

"So, let's try again," Jim says, taking another sip from the dishwater the station claims is coffee.

"The key's under the flower pot," Billy mumbles.

Jim raises a brow. "And you know that why?"

Billy's eyes shoot dagger at him, the way only a pissed of teenager can look at an adult.

"Steve put it there for me," he says lowly, like it's a secret, something dirty and shameful you hide under your bed. "In case I need a place to go to…"

"So, you're pals?" Jim asks, huffing a laugh in disbelief. "Why didn't you say so?"

Billy's jaw tightens.

"Nobody knows," he finally says. His fingers find his necklace, tugging at the pendant. "It's better that way."

Jim is close to crack a joke about dramatic teenagers, but Billy's blue eyes are dark and there's a sadness there that doesn't belong to someone so young.

Whatever it is, Jim gets another piece of a puzzle - but apparently they're playing Hide and Seek.

"Okay," he says after a while. He'll put a stamp on the report, saying Confidential or similar shit. "You can go."

Surprise makes Billy look softer, less hurt. "What?"

Jim shrugs. "I've heard enough. Or do you want me to lock you up?"

It's a joke, but his throat clogs up when he looks down on Billy's file and sees that the kid had already spend a night the drunk tank a few weeks ago.

"Whatever, Chief." Billy lifts his hands. "I'm outta here, then."

The kid is halfway through the door, when it hits Jim. Billy can't go back to Loch Nora right now. Mrs. Carter is probably on guard.

"If you still need a place to stay, you can sleep in the break room," Jim offers. "The couch is a disaster though."

Billy stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He plays it cool when he catches himself.

"If I don't have to drink that shit." He points at the coffee. Jim can't blame him. Although 1 am is way too late to get cheeky.

"Just go to bed," Jim grumbles.

Billy salutes him. Jim can see his shoulders sinking, his whole body a bit less tense. Maybe he'll get them donuts for breakfast.

#welcome to the jim has to take care of billy show #jim hopper #billy hargrove & jim hopper #jim hopper & billy hargrove #billy hargrove #implied #harringrove #billy hargrove ficlet

[bookshelf-dust]

loving you

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 961

warnings: um, literally none? let me know if i missed something though

a/n: wanted to write something for baby’s birthday. don’t bully me about the age i’m being self-indulgent, okay? but anyways, posting this now so it’ll be up all day on his birthday. also tagging @clovermunson for helping me out with a certain fuzzy fellow. love you guys!!! <3

————

Billy is warm beside you. That’s one of your favorite things about him. 

Even if there are times where you get hot and have to push him off because he’s making you sweat, there are still the times that you get to cuddle up to him when you’re cold. And he’ll tuck you into his side to warm you up. Just like he’s doing now. 

His socked feet are propped up on the coffee table, the rest of him covered by a blanket that the both of you share. His arm is wrapped around your back, fingers spread across your stomach where his hand has slipped underneath the fabric of your shirt. 

Every once in a while he’ll scratch over your belly, dull nails sending chills up your spine. Your hand is tucked underneath his thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth over his leg. 

Billy’s eyes are on the tv, yours glancing back and forth between him and the clock on the wall. 

You’re starting to wonder if you’ll disturb him with your little plan, just based on the way his eyes are starting to flutter shut, the way he’s melting into you. 

But you don’t think he’ll mind. Not really. 

The clock hand moves that little bit and the microwave numbers change, their light leaving a green cast over the kitchen counter. 

12:00 am.

You sit up, twisting some so that you’re facing Billy, and your movement wakes him up a little. 

He straightens, looking at you. He quirks a brow, trying to figure out what you’re up to. It’s always something. 

You reach out to touch his face, and he automatically leans into it. You cup his cheeks with both hands, and then you’re pressing your lips to his. 

Your mouth is warm, and he can both taste and smell the lip balm you’d put on earlier in the night. It’s a sweet kiss, long and heartfelt. 

Billy brings his hand up, holding onto your wrist.  

You’re thinking: I love you, I love you, I love you, and hoping you can somehow transfer the message directly into his brain through the kiss. He kisses you back, knowing exactly what you’re trying to say. Billy hasn’t shaved in a few days and his skin scratches against yours. You don’t care. 

When you pull away, his lashes are fluttering and if it weren’t so dim in the living room you’re sure you’d find a blush spreading across his face. 

“Happy Birthday.” 

Billy smiles at you. When he speaks, his voice is tired, lovesick. “Was that my birthday kiss?”

“Only the first one,” you tell him. 

“Oh, so I get more?”

Billy presses his forehead against yours, still holding onto your wrist. Your hands never leave his face, thumbs sweeping underneath his eyes. 

“You want another?” You ask. The question makes him chuckle. 

“Pretty please.” 

His lips tick up at the corners, enticing you. You press a kiss to both, to his cupid's bow, his chin. He pouts at you. 

“Come on. It’s my birthday,” Billy whines. 

“I really set myself up for this one.” You kiss him. “Should’ve known you’d use that to your advantage.” You kiss him again. 

Billy hums against your cheek where he’s now pressed his own mouth. He knows that makes you go all warm. 

There’s a noise behind you, a subtle added weight to the cushion you've settled on, and you know what it is without having to turn. The mewl makes Billy aware of the presence, and he grins against your face, a slow laugh leaving his throat. 

“I think he wants us to come to bed, B.”

Billy hooks his chin over your shoulder, meeting eyes with a little brown cat. 

You hear the first meow your cat lets out in greeting. The second is almost like a question. Why are you still up?

Billy reaches around you, scratching behind his ears. You can hear his purring. It’s always so loud. 

There’s a clambering, and Billy leans back, allowing for the young cat to squeeze between your body and the couch and up into his lap. 

“Night, Cosmo,” you say. Billy snorts. “What? It’s too late to be evening.”

Cosmo ignores your words, preferring to stare at you, waiting. You scratch his chin and he mewls. It’s not unlike the response Billy might have for getting the same sort of attention.  

“What do you wanna do in the morning, birthday boy? How would you like to celebrate your release from teenagedom? The big 2-0?”

Billy rolls his eyes at you and kisses the palm of your hand, having snatched it from where it was flailing midair. 

“Don’t care,” he says. “We could sit here all day and I wouldn’t give a shit.”

You lean in like you need to whisper, as if you’re not in your own home. “I think Max is gonna come see you. Don’t tell her I told you, but she bought you a sash.”

“No.”

You start to laugh. “Yes. A birthday sash.”

“I’m not wearing that.”

You kiss him again, though you’re laughing and can’t take it seriously. 

“Sure, baby.”

He pecks your lips once, twice. “No, I’m not.”

The polaroid you stick in the frame of your vanity mirror the next evening says otherwise. Billy is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, though loosely enough that you can see the words “Birthday Princess” in sparkly lettering on a pink sash. 

He’s not looking at the camera, he’s looking at Max, listening to something she’s saying. Lucas is on the floor, back between her knees.

Billy looks so happy, cheeks flushed from all of the attention he’d had, the start of a laugh on his face. 

It’s a pure, candid photo, for a true birthday princess. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove ficlet #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #billy stranger things #savannah’s fics

[writer-in-theory]

i want a benny hammond who survived s1 and eventually helps billy.

i want him to notice this kid who starts coming into the diner in the middle of the night. at first the loud car and obnoxious attitude irritates benny to no end, but then he notices the way billy never quite makes eye contact with him, or really any of the guys around the diner. he notices one night that the boy's hands shake around his coffee and he notices the stiff way the kid walks like he's trying not to aggravate new injuries.

and billy is a pain in his ass, truly. he's rude, he flirts with just about every woman in the diner regardless of age, and that damn car is gonna kill someone someday benny just knows it.

and yet, he never once kicks billy out. everyone knows he can, benny'd kicked people out for far less before. but this is a kid who reminds him far too much of himself at that age—angry, hurt, backed into a corner with no foreseeable way to escape except to fight his way out.

so benny takes the harsh words and he slides him a burger in return. every. fucking. night. and he charges him less and less until finally he offers billy a job instead. come to the diner whenever you can, benny tells him, just grab an apron and get to work. he tells the kid it's because he's getting old and can't manage it on his own, never mind the fact that he's worked in this diner ever since he was 18 and escaped from his own dad's ruthless hand. and you know what? billy takes him up on it. his cheeks grow red and he angrily spits something out about not being a charity case and not needing a job, but the next night he comes in, puts his keys on the ring beside benny's, and puts on an apron.

it gets better after that. the hackles fall and the bitter words turn into loud laughs, practically cackles as benny tells him about old diner stories. billy tells him all about california and admits he always planned on going back there after turning 18. billy never once tells him where the bruises are from but he doesn't need to, he knows benny gets it.

and the bruises never stop but the scowls do. he has worse days where benny shoves him into the kitchen so the customers don't test billy's fragile temper, but on the good days billy smiles and grabs the notebook, walking out to the front to take orders and create his own diner stories. hopper's telling him that billy hasn't been pulled over for speeding in awhile and the scrapes on the boy's knuckles fade away to only memories as the fighting stops too.

graduation comes and billy walks in looking nervous for the first time in months, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he paces, head tilted to the ground so he won't have to see benny's face. "what is it, kid?" benny's pushing, because he's scared, like really scared now. what happened to him? he's expecting to see a face full of bruises but when the kid looks up there's absolutely nothing there but happiness.

"i was thinkin' i'd stick around awhile," billy admits then, trying to sound like he doesn't care but benny can see the hopeful look in those blue eyes that still have a hardness to them but less of that wild animal look. "you clearly need all the help you can get, old man."

and benny takes it, he fucking takes it because this kid has only been around for a year but it feels like a lifetime. benny offers billy the couch in his house the second the kid is 18, telling him that he can stay there while he saves up the rest of his money to escape hawkins and his dad entirely. says it's because he doesn't want the customers to be grossed out by anymore bruises, but he knows that hopeful look in billy's eyes is reflected in his own.

billy stays, he really does. benny starts paying him more than normal and billy tries to give it back, tries to pay him rent, but benny just says he can pick up more hours at the diner now that he's not in school.

then the day comes. benny never expected to be upset when the kid left hawkins, but as he stands in the diner at billy's farewell party he thinks he'll actually miss that loud ass car and that still insufferable attitude. benny gives the kid a hug and he tells him to be safe in california, to write if he ever gets the itch to. then it happens. it's said so quietly benny almost misses it, but it's there.

"thank you for everything."

then billy's climbing into that fucking camaro and he's driving off toward the town limits, and benny can't help but let out a loud holler because the kid finally fucking made it out.

someone tells benny he should be proud of his son. he thinks that's true.

#billy hargrove #benny hammond #stranger things #stranger jays #billy hargrove ficlet #harringrove ficlet

[talesfrom-theupsidedown]

Billy fic where reader is in a creative writing class with him and she finds out he is a beautiful writer cause she over hears the teacher urging him to share it with the class. He said no, the deal was that he would do the homework only if no one else ever sees it.

Reader was hanging back cause she dropped her bag or something and then runs out to the parking lot to catch him.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…”

“Then why did you?” he snarled.

She stands her ground

“I know you don’t want anyone to know and you can keep it that way. But. I’m the editor of the literary magazine and I could publish your work anonymously. No one else would have to know. I wouldn’t tell a soul, I promise. Just…think about it.”

Billy climbs in his car and takes off but the next week he covertly hands her a stack of handwritten papers after class. “You swear no one will know?”

“Yes.”

And Billy’s heartbreaking world is opened up to her through his short stories and poems that should really be published somewhere other than a dinky little high school literary mag but people start to pay attention and follow the stories of this new mysterious writer.

She’s hounded by people begging for the true identity but she’ll never say a word.

Over time, she couldn’t help but start to fall for Billy, though, and as his writing becomes a little softer, more wishful, and mentions the kindness of a girl…

Well, she couldn’t help but hope.

————

(Idk if there will be more to this but I liked the thought that popped in my head before bed last night and had to write it down 😌)

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove ficlet #Billy hargrove fic #kinda #Billy hargrove x reader #stranger things

[latelyanobsession]

Chewing his lunch leisurely at a picnic table, Billy startled as a nearby trashcan toppled over.

"The hell?" he rose from his seat, peering over.

A large, ragged looking black labrador was snuffling around in the exposed trash.

Billy laughed softly, "you hungry?"

The dog looked up for a moment, big wide eyes sparkling.

Seeing the remnants of his bologna sandwich, Billy tore a bit off and slowly approached.

Pursing his lips, he gave a whistle.

"Here doggy..."

The dog looked at scrap in his hand longingly, looking again at the pile of rubbish, before making its decision.

Billy took another tentative step, "Here boy..."

The dog dipped its head looking up at Billy, taking small steps forward. Leaning in to smell the offering.

Eyes watching Billy's features for reaction as it took the morsel from his hand.

The dog pulled away, snarfing it down.

"You want another?" Billy asked, "I got more."

He pulled the sandwich off the table into his hands, crouching down, and pulling off another piece.

The dog's ears perked up, expression softening as it watched Billy offer up more.

It approached again, stepping into Billy's space. Taking more of the sandwich from Billy's fingers bit by bit.

"That's a good boy. I bet you're really hungry..." he offered his final piece.

The dog took it gratefully, as Billy cautiously stretched out a hand.

The dog watched him, as Billy's hand made contact with the crown of the animal's head.

Its tail wagged slightly. A good sign.

Billy gave him a pat.

The tail picked up pace.

Billy smiled.

"I gotta go boy... but stay outta the trash ok?"

The dog answered in deep rumbling bark that both surprised Billy and warmed him to the core.

"Ok boy. See ya around."

The dog barked as Billy walked back towards the high school.

At the end of the day Billy was heading for the camaro, tossing his keys up and down in his hand.

A deep bark pulling him from his thoughts.

The dog was following him to the car.

"Go home boy...." Billy told him, "I don't have anymore treats for you..."

"Maybe tomorrow."

The dog barked again, jumping around Billy.

Max skated up to the car.

"What's this?" she asked, gesturing to the dog.

Billy scoffed in annoyance.

"It's nothing, just get in the car."

The dog was just not getting it.

"Hey... I got nothing more for you. Go home." Billy pushed, walking around the dog and unlocking the car.

"Where'd that dog come from?" Max asked, looking out the window as Billy started the engine.

"Nowhere it just showed up." he answered.

"Did you feed it or something? It sure seems to like you..." she pushed.

The dog was sitting on the curb in front of the car, whining.

"Jesus... why do you have to ask so many questions?" Billy complained.

He put the car in drive and peeled out of the lot.

The drive was quiet.

Well, as quiet as a typical drive in the camaro could be. A tape of Billy's playing on moderate volume as they headed for their house.

"Um Billy..." Max asked.

"What?" he snapped, fingers gripping the wheel, he could feel his temper rising to a simmer.

Max leaned forward in her seat, looking in the sideview mirror.

"That dog's following us..." she pointed out.

"What?" Billy grabbed the rearview mirror and looked.

Sure enough. The dog was trotting along down the neighborhood sidewalk about a hundred yards behind.

Parking in front of their house, Billy stopped. Max's hand was on the door handle.

Billy put a heavy hand on her shoulder, "wait."

The dog slowed, ears perked. Looking around, as if it had lost sight of them. It crossed the street into another yard and ducked out of sight.

Billy waited another moment or two, watching until he deemed it safe.

Pulling her skateboard out of the camaro, Max raised an eyebrow.

"Why're you scared of that dog?"

Billy rolled his eyes, slamming the car door and heading up the walkway.

"It's just a stupid dog Max... I'm not afraid of a damn dog."

She followed after him, walking in through the thrown open front door.

"Then why are you ducking it?"

Heading into his room, Billy turned on his heels to look at her. "Fuck off Max", he said exhaustedly shutting his door in her face.

Max shook her head, staring dramatically at the ceiling as she loudly closed the front door.

The following morning Billy hastily poured a bowl of cereal, splashing milk everywhere as he went. He was in a rush. He had overslept again.

Susan came into the kitchen, silently pouring herself a cup of coffee and coming to sit at the table.

Her brow was knit together. "Y'know it's really funny..." she started.

Billy ignored her, shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could.

Max watched her mother through sleep-laden eyes, as she bit off another piece of banana.

"There's this giant black dog sitting in the front yard..." Susan stated to no one in particular.

Billy choked.

Max stopped, looking at her mother with newfound attention.

"Maybe I should call Neil... It's been there all morning." she reasoned.

Beating his fist against his chest, Billy cleared his throat.

"Do- *cough* don't do that!" He sputtered. "I *cough* I'll take care of it..."

"Oh would you Billy?" Susan looked up at him happily. "That would be great!"

Billy rushed from the kitchen and up the stairs, flying out the front door.

The dog snapped it's head around, tail wagging when it saw him.

"You can't be here..." Billy warned coming up to the animal.

The dog rose to all fours.

"My dad'll kill me if he sees you. He hates dogs..."

The dog tilted its head, mouth closing.

Billy placed a hand atop the dog's head. "You have to go."

The dog barked and sat back down.

"No!" Billy threw his hands out exasperatedly.

The dog wagged its tail happily.

Clapping his hands to his head Billy, dragged his hands down his face in frustration.

An idea occurred to him.

"C'mon boy...!" Billy rushed to the edge of the yard, slapping his thighs.

Rising up barking, the dog came.

"Atta boy!" He encouraged jogging down the sidewalk, calling out to the dog as it followed along behind him.

Four blocks later, Billy stopped.

"Ok boy..."

The dog heeled next to him, looking around happily.

"You gotta stay here."

Raising his palms flat Billy attempted to step away.

The dog followed.

He gritted his teeth.

"No...." leaning down he pushed his palm against the dog's lower back until it sat.

"Stay." Billy instructed.

Facing the dog, he started backing away hands raised and palms flat.

"Staaaay...." he warned continuing to distance himself.

The dog remained, whining. It cut Billy to the core, but he couldn't have that dog anywhere near his house.

Billy left for school and didn't see the dog the entire day. Problem solved.

Until he got home.

There it was in the front yard, laying in the grass. It's head picking up as he and Max pulled up to the curb.

"It's that dog again..." Max said walking over to it.

She gave it a hefty scratch behind the ears, smiling as the dog licked at her hand and face.

"Don't pet it Max..." Billy complained. "You'll only encourage it to stay."

"You don't want it to?" Max questioned as Billy unlocked the front door.

"It doesn't matter what I want..." he mumbled, walking in.

Dinner was quiet that night.

Neil was home.

"What's a matter?" Neil questioned, watching Max poke at her mostly full plate.

"I'm just not very hungry..." she muttered, pushing the broccoli around her plate.

Neil snorted, taking a large bite of pork chop off his fork.

"Your mother worked hard to make that for you.... you should be grateful to have food to eat Maxine." He chastised, chewing obnoxiously.

"Isn't that right Billy?" he paused looking over at his son.

Billy's plate was almost clear. He had learned long ago to eat whatever was put in front of him. Even it was Susan's bone-dry chops and runny instant potatoes.

"Yes sir...." Billy stated flatly, skewering a floret.

"Oh Neil leave her alone..." Susan chided, "sometimes she just isn't very hungry."

He huffed, mustache moving side to side in discontent as Max pushed her seat back from the table.

"Leaving already?" Neil pressed, taking a long sip from his beer can. Eyes boring into the child.

The room stilled, Max pausing, hand gripping the table's edge.

"May I be excused...?" she bit out.

Neil took another bite of food, letting the tension in the room build.

"What're you going to do?" he asked, another loud sip of beer.

"Going to my room to study." Max answered curtly.

More silence. More chewing.

"You're excused." he stated.

Max hastily rose from her seat, taking her plate with her.

She and Billy locked eyes for a moment as she passed.

Looking at his father, Billy was about to request the same only to be met with,

"Dishes..."

Clearing the table with Susan, Billy was scraping plates. Neil on his third beer at the table when they all froze.

Loud resonant barking.

Billy's veins ran cold. His eyes darting over to Neil. The chair creaking as he sat forward, can coming to rest on the tabletop.

Not a word was spoken as he got up and left the room.

Billy dropped the plate in the sink, rushing up the stairs.

The front door was flung open. Neil was outside with Max. The dog was there.

Growling.

Billy ran out looking at the scene.

Neil had his shotgun.

"You have something to do with this. Don't you...?" Neil accused, pointing the butt of the gun at Billy.

Billy swallowed, his throat running dry. Heart thundering in his ears.

"That animal is rabid Maxine get away from it!" Neil cocked the weapon, raising it up. The dog pinning it's ears back, lips curled in a menacing snarl.

"He's not!" Max shouted, throwing her hands out wide. "You're just scaring him!"

She had a piece of pork chop in her hand.

"Billy tell him!" Max pled.

Billy said nothing. He knew far too well what happened the last time he brought home an animal.

"Neil! No!" Susan yelled, coming out to the porch.

"It's a mongrel Susan..." he reasoned. "Full of disease. It needs to be put down."

Susan rushed out standing in his way, blocking the dog.

"It's just a dog Neil.... it's innocent." she implored him.

Neil regarded her coldly, looking down at the dog. The animal's ferocity subsiding as its focus shifted momentarily back to Max and the pork chop.

Hungrily chewing the meat from her hands, it wagged it's tail as Max cooed and petted it.

"See...?" Susan reasoned, pushing the gun barrel towards the ground.

"He really is a good boy, he just needs a good meal and a loving home."

Neil's mustache twitched in annoyance, finger still resting by the trigger.

Licking Max's hand clean, the dog barked happily hopping in place as Max wrapped the animal in her arms.

"For heaven's sake Neil..." Susan crossed her arms, "let them keep the dog. It's always good for kids to have a pet...."

He didn't reply, shoulders slackening and trigger hold gone.

"Fine." he ground out, "That animal takes one step out of line and its gone..." he threatened.

Max cheered running inside the house, prompting the dog to follow. It barked and ran in, Susan following.

Billy shoved his hands in his pockets, heading towards the porch.

"Where do you think you're going?" Neil snapped, ringing Billy's shirtcollar.

"You bring another mutt to my door?" His grip was tightening, twisting Billy's shirt and dragging him up the walkway and into the house.

Neil shut the front door, leaning the shotgun beside it. He threw Billy through his open bedroom door to the floor.

Billy backed up, Neil driving him up against the edge of the couch.

Gripping Billy with both hands he dragged him to his feet, shoving him into the wall.

"You remember what we talked about?" Neil demanded, looking Billy square in the eyes.

Billy stared back, lip quivering.

Neil dipped his head, leaning in. "Well let's hear it..."

Billy parted his lips, searching for his voice when a growl filled the room, warming his chest.

Placing a palm flat against Billy's chest, Neil looked to the door.

"I should've shot that fucking beast...."

The dog stalked in, ears flat. Teeth bared.

"Get out! Stupid animal!" Neil bellowed, face red, kicking at the dog.

The dog snapped its jaw harshly, the deep timbre of its bark sending a visible jump through Neil's posture.

"Get outta here!" Neil pulled off of Billy, rising to his full height, raising his shoulders and stamping his feet.

The dog didn't back down. It lunged at Neil, grabbing a hold of the cuff of his jeans and ripping with all its might.

The dog tugged and threw its head. Eyes fixed on Neil as he faltered, falling to the ground. Billy jumping out of the way.

Tearing his leg free, Neil fled from the room and slammed Billy's door. Leaving him and the dog inside.

"You figure out what you're doing with that damn thing!" he yelled through the door before stomping off.

The dog snapped at the door, nose pressed to the floor growling and scratching as Neil got away.

Billy collapsed on his bed exhausted. Closing his eyes.

He didn't know what the hell to do with this dog. He didn't think it would kill him though... thankfully.

The bed dipped with new weight pressing upon it. Something wet touching his cheek. Heavy breathing invading and blowing into his left ear.

"Hey watch it!" Billy complained looking over.

The dog had climbed up. Walking a small circle, it laid down. Resting its chin on his chest. Big watery eyes looking up at him.

Billy sighed, "what the hell am I gonna do with you?"

A grumbly response, black nose twitching.

Billy absentmindedly brought his hand up and started stroking the dog's fur.

"Guess you need a name if you live here now huh?"

Another response.

"How 'bout King?"

The dog looked at him with pricked ears, nuzzling against him.

Billy smiled, "King it is."

@every-dayiwakeup @ickypuppi3 @eddiebillysteve

#tw physical abuse #tw child abuse #billy #billy hargrove #billy hargrove ficlet #billy deserves a dog and someone needed to say it #billy hargrove fanfiction

[ihni]

Billy is as good as dead, they keep him alive with machines to find out whatever they can about the creature before he really dies. They have someone, a girl with a special power, but her power killed everyone they ever tried it on. But Billy is already dying and 30 other people died and so they try - and it works. His consciousness travels back in time to that day at the pool with Karen Wheeler, where everything began. And now Billy knows what’s about to happen, so he does what any normal person would do: he runs. Takes the Camaro and just drives in the opposite direction of that road where it all happened. 

It’s bad. Half of the town dies and no one stops that thing that has been inside his head. Max dies and her little girl friend dies, too. Billy can’t take the guilt and manages to find the girl with the special power so she can send him back again. He tells her everything and she sends him back to the day at the pool again. It works, again.

Billy has no idea what to do, who would believe him? Does Max know about the monster? Who is her friend? Max had brought her to Heather’s, but the monster had already been too strong, he only remembers her name. El. Max gets angry when he asks about “El” and the monster manages to get someone and start it all over again. Billy doesn’t know who it is, who he needs to stop and he can’t do it alone. He has a fight with Neil and gets locked in his room. Max dies again. El dies again. Half the town dies. Again. People come and get Billy and he recognizes them as the ones with the special girl. They work for some kind of secret lab. At first they don’t believe him but he manages to convince them, tells them about the monster, how it hates the heat so they manage to slow it down. The girl with the special powers is there again and the lab people agree to give her power another try, curious if Billy will survive. He does, again. 

Then he remembers the very first time this happened, remembers Wheeler and Byers and how the monster had tried to force him to run them over. But he has no idea where they are over the summer. But he knows where Harrington is. Harrington had been with the kids in November, he was still friends with Wheeler and Byers. He crashed his car into Billy’s to stop him. And Billy knows where Harrington works, because he had seen him in that stupid sailor outfit. Harrington believes him, gets the kids to help even, but the monster took other people again and made itself a giant body out of their melted flesh again. Billy learns there is a secret russian lab underneath the mall, with a gate to another dimension where the monster comes from and they need to close it to save everyone. He learns that Chief Hopper knows about all those things and Mrs. Byers, too. And all the kids. But they are not strong enough, the monster manages to take most of them and they don’t manage to close the gate. 

Billy wakes up in the lab again, still possessed. Everyone died, again. He despairs, doesn’t know what to do anymore. He wants to give in to the monster, to die. But the girl with the powers is there again. They experiment on him, on the monster until he has enough control that he can tell them everything he knows. They find the lab, they find the russians. They believe him. They send him back one last time.

Billy knows, what he has to do. He goes to the warehouse and lets the monster possess him and tries to find those lab people as long as he has enough control left. But the lab is empty, no one comes to get him. It’s his last chance. He drives to the station, goes to Hopper. Tells him everything he knows, begs him to just put him in a cell, to go look for that lab, to tell his daughter the monster is back and on the hunt for her. Hopper doesn't really believe him, but he puts him in a cell. Then Hopper leaves and only on the run from a crazy russian he starts to believe Billy.

Anon. I LOVE this. I was reading it, riveted, and while it only took a couple of minutes i feel like I've just read a long fic! That said, this is an amazing idea and I would gladly read 70k more of it.

Also, i have to know - how does it end???

This was such a wonderful thing to receive. Fic straight into my inbox! <3

#anon #billy hargrove ficlet #ask

[lioniheart]

(It was based on a take I saw earlier today but I think it got deleted)

"Why don't you like me?" Steve asks, not meeting his eyes.

They were on the new Hopper-Byers's back porch, a little bit after dark. The rest of the party had gone inside a while ago but Steve wanted a smoke and Eddie decided to have one as well. It was quite chilly for a summer night, and the wind made both of them shiever a bit.

"Excuse me?!" Eddie replied, after a half a minute of confusion. "Who said I didn't like you?"

"C'mon, man, I know the kids say it a lot, but I'm not actually an idiot!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, princess?"

"See?! Right there! Look, I just don't get it. I know you overheard that conversation I had with Will last week, but I thought you were all for that non-conformist bullshit, and let me tell you, fucking with someone because of their sexuality is very "the man" of you!" His voice was still hushed, but Steve had turned all the way to Eddie's direction now, glaring at the metalhead with what he tried to make look like defiance on his eyes, but were clearly just hurt.

"Steve-"

"The thing is, you've been treating Will just like always, so maybe that isn't it, wich is so more confusing, because I really thought we were getting closer, but now you keep making these jokes and... I don't get it! Did I do something wrong?"

"What?! No--" the other tried to interrupt, but Steve's rambling just kept on coming.

"Is it because of high school? Is the ‘princess’ thing some kind of payback for the whole King Steve bullshit? Dude, I know I was a douchebag- hmpf!"

Eddie, sensing Steve was about to spiral, clasped his hand on top of the boy's mouth.

"Stevie, I'm going to need you to stop right there, okay?" His voice was calm, but his heart was racing. Steve's eyes were wide, his cheeks pink, and Eddie couldn't help but notice how much closer they were now. "I'm so sorry I made you feel like I was mocking you. That was definitely not the intention. The total opposite, actually.” Steve made a questioning noise behind the ringed hand “The princess thing was me being an idiot, actually. I was just..” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “I was trying to flirt with you, sweetheart. Apparently, I’m really bad at it.”

#i was gonna write more but i got sleepy #steddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steve harrington is a very confused guy #toxic masculinity and billy hargrove are to blame #pre steddie #post vecna #idk i never actually write anything but here we are #steddie ficlet

[theladycarpathia]

Billy’s not expecting the call from his dad.

“Billy?” Hop sounds distant, the faint sound of an idling engine in the background. Billy blinks, because his dad is at work and as far as Billy knows that usually means sitting behind a desk at the station and arguing with Flo.

“Don’t you have paperwork to be doing?” Billy says and Hopper snorts. There’s the sound of background traffic that’s then shut out by the clang of a car door.

“Don’t give me cheek, I am still the chief,” Hopper says as though that means anything in a small town where the most crime that they get is some drunk idiot attempting to rob the gas station.

“Yes, sir,” Billy quips and changes the channel. No one else is home and he’s bored. Jon and Joyce are still at work, and El and Will are doing weird nerd activities. The diner didn’t have a shift for him today and he doesn’t have a date, so he came home. He’d half expected someone to be here, instead of getting stuck with a protein bar and old reruns.

“That’s more like it,” Hopper says and then clears his throat awkwardly. “I was just wondering…are you definitely single?”

“Dad,” Billy says, attention now fully away from the TV set. Hop’s called him before, to ask him shit like do they need milk and to take the trash out. He doesn't call to talk about Billy's love life. They never talk about that, not after that time Hopper came in his room without knocking. “What is your next question, because this could make the next family dinner a little uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Hopper gripes. There’s the sudden cackle of laughter in the background and Billy sits up.

“Are you with someone?” he asks and then sucks in a breath at the implications. “Did you put me on speaker?”

“I may have done,” Hopper says, sounding sheepish. “I just picked up a young man outside the movie theatre and he’s about your age…”

“I’m nineteen!” the mystery guy hollers from the backseat. Hopper keeps talking like the guy hadn’t spoken.

“I don’t know, I just thought he was your type.”

Billy presses a hand to his temple, unable to believe that his dad has just said those words. “What’s my type?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to combust right here and now. Hopper makes that little awkward throat clearing again, like he can’t believe the situation either.

“You know,” he says stiffly. “Sort of…pretty.”

Oh God. Billy can never look Hopper in the eye again.

“You think I’m pretty?” the guy asks curiously, and Billy can’t blame him for sounding a bit weirded out.

“I think you look like a lot of the doe-eyed pretty-boys my son brings home,” Hopper snaps. Despite his obvious discomfort, Billy can’t help the rush of affection at Hopper trying to be supportive. Neil would have beat the shit out of him. Hopper tries to hook him up with appropriately aged delinquents in the back of the police car.

“A lot?” the guy asks and Billy flushes. He then regrets it because he has no idea if he even wants to impress whatever guy Hopper has picked up.

“It’s not a lot,” he says defensively because Hawkins isn’t exactly big on the gay scene. His last boyfriend he met at Tina’s Halloween party and to be fair, if you wear a kilt and not a lot else to a party in October, Billy’s absolutely going to beg you to rail him in the downstairs cloakroom. The relationship hadn't exactly worked out.

“Look, I get the feeling I’m never going to hear the end of this so here’s the situation,” Hopper says, sounding tired. “This is my son, Billy. He’s about to finish high school, he likes cars and burgers and loud music. He has shit taste in men even though he’s attractive, clever and a smart mouth. Billy, this is Steve. I was on my way back from the mayor’s office when I caught him peeing in an alley. Judging by his big brown eyes and the fact that public nudity doesn’t seem to be a problem for him, I thought of you.”

“Aww,” Billy drawls, sitting back on the couch. There are lights in the drive so someone has just arrived home. Which is good because he needs to tell everyone this story so they can give Hopper shit about it over dinner. “Pops, that’s so sweet.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Hopper says, like he hasn’t already done everything for Billy by getting him out, giving him a home. “I’ll take an extra polaroid when I process him.”

“I had to take a leak!” Steve protests and Hopper sucks in air through his teeth.

“There are public bathrooms, kid, I’ve heard those work pretty well. Billy, help your mom with dinner when she gets home.” Sucks for Hopper, it’s Jon heading up the path, keys dangling from his fingers. Billy can’t wait to tell him this story.

“Or what, you won’t bring me any more dates?” Billy asks, but he’s only half-joking. Hopper means well and kind of fucks it up a lot but this time he might have hit it right on the money. He thinks he might like Steve.

“Do I get a picture?” Steve asks. “Or does the Hawkins Police just pimp out young innocent men with full bladders?”

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to like Steve.

“I have a picture on my desk,” Hopper admits grumpily. There’s the jangle of keys in the door as Jonathan lets himself in. “You can look at it if you’re good.”

“And what if I’m not?” Steve asks and Jonathan walks in just in time to raise his eyebrows at Billy.

“I can help punish him, if he’s not,” Billy suggests, and Hopper hangs up the phone just as Steve begins to laugh.

This has probably been done before because it's based on that famous tumblr post but it's so dull during school holidays I have nothing to do but write. And I have no in progress Harringrove fics which is probably a problem I should fix.

#harringrove #ficlet #billy hargrove #steve harrington #jim hopper #hopper being a well meaning but slightly awkward dad has my heart #he'll tell this story at their wedding #as revenge for billy telling everyone that hop set him up #seriously though I have a dozen fics in progress rn #not one of them is harringrove #what's wrong with me

[californiaboytoybilly]

Billy, who has only ever known a life of ‘use or be used’ comes to Hawkins, Indiana with exactly one plan.

To get the fuck back out.

But see, the problem is that that takes money. Money he definitely doesn’t have.

The first night in his new room, he doesn’t bother to unpack. No, he sits on the floor by his bare mattress and he plots.

It’s not worth the risk trying to steal from Neil. Can’t escape this shithole if he’s fucking dead. Getting a job and actually managing to keep the money without his father finding out would be… difficult.

Bored housewives would probably be willing to shell out gifts for the privilege of a quick fuck to forget their balding, miserable husbands. It wasn’t much, but it was a thought to consider.

He leaves that half finished plan open in his brain when he goes to his first day at Hawkins High, only to have the page ripped up and burned at the first sight of one Steve Harrington.

Bored and- seemingly- apathetic pretty boy with absent parents and a big house. Considerably more his type than some desperate midwest housewife with sickly sweet perfume and a simpering voice.

And clearly rich.

By the second week of classes, Billy has caught Steve’s eyes lingering on him a few too many times.

So starts what would become both the only thing that mattered to him, and the worst thing he’d ever do.

His usual charm doesn’t work on Steve, so he goes the other way. Taunts him, a bully pulling on his pigtails until one day Steve snaps and kisses him behind the gym until Billy almost forgets why he’s doing this entirely.

At first, he feels no guilt in it. They don’t talk feelings, it’s just good fucking sex and Steve apparently loves to give gifts.

Gifts that are too thoughtful. Too knowing.

First aid supplies. Clothes. Buying him expensive dinners to make up for the nights Billy was sent to his room without a bite to eat the entire day, even if he didn’t know that.

Billy starts to become more aware of his plan as the days, then months slip by. He thinks of all the times Steve has given him money for gas or other things, how Billy has lied to him. How all that money is stashed away, just waiting for a chance that he can disappear into the night like an asshole outlaw.

Steve becomes his boyfriend and the guilt sits heavy and sticky in his gut. He starts to second guess what he’s been doing.

Billy doesn’t say he’s in love, not even when Steve does. He knows he is- has fought against it with every fibre of his being the whole fucked up way down- but he can’t bring himself to say it when his escape is on the horizon.

He comforts himself by telling himself Steve will forget about him. Move on and marry some docile stay-at-home wife who wouldn’t push his buttons the way Billy did.

But then, late one night, Steve says it again while he’s pressing Billy down into the mattress. And Billy- emotionally taken apart by a particularly bad day at home- crumbles. His eyes fill with tears and he says it back in a fit of weakness. The first time he’s ever said those words to someone.

I love you too.

That’s when his plan starts to fall apart. It’s become annoyingly apparent that he can’t escape this. Doesn’t want to. Steve has become his escape.

So even though it feels like pulling teeth, he starts to empty his stash. He buys Steve gifts now, because spending it on him makes him feel less vile. Takes Steve out on dates.

He finally feels a sense of relief when it’s gone, even if he says goodbye to California mournfully in the same thought.

It’s easier to be around Steve after that, even if a trace of the guilt always lingers. Easier to say he loves him when he isn’t constantly ready to say goodbye. Easier to open up to him.

He finally tells Steve the truth about Neil, and the first thing Steve does is offer him a place in his home if he needs to run.

Billy loves him. He feels free for the first time in his life. He’s happy.

And that’s when Steve finds out the truth.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #billy x steve #billy antis dni #billy hargrove deserves better #minor angst #miscommunication #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy #🌌 — a s t e r #🌌 — w r i t i n g

[thissortofsorcery]

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race!! It's been so much fun so far, and I'm so excited to share my piece!

Thank you so much to @kuroubojin for passing the baton to me 💕

--

Billy thought that finally getting King Steve into bed would be different. 

Well, he didn’t think he’d actually get King Steve into bed, in the first place. But as much as Billy hates to admit it, now that he has, he’s feeling a little out of his depth.

In the many, many times he thought about what sex with Harrington would be like, he’d pictured something a little more… Wild. He thought fucking Harrington would be like a fight, biting and clawing and pushing to see who’s gonna come out on top. He thought he’d have to wrestle King Steve down and show him who the real king was, and it would be rough and hot and loud. Impersonal, though. Billy likes to get off fast and easy, after all. There’s no reason to draw it out or to linger after. 

But. But. 

Harrington caught him off guard. Billy never expected the teasing and the pigtail-pulling to pay off in the first place. He didn’t think he’d actually see Harrington’s fire turned on him, giving as good as he got, every barb out of Billy’s mouth being met with burning words and an upturned nose. It only egged Billy on more. 

It came to a point where Billy couldn’t put his eyes on Harrington without his whole body responding, heart thrumming and veins singing with adrenaline, palms sweaty at the sight of an answering smirk. 

And now, well. 

Running into each other at the quarry turned into a shared case of beer and a cigarette, turned into this. 

Billy pinned down on the backseat of Harrington’s damn BMW, leather seats sticking to his sweaty back. Billy doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing; all he knows is that he lost his shirt somewhere in the middle, and his jeans are open and rucked down to his hips. Harrington’s skin is hot, feverish under Billy’s fingertips, soft skin covering firm, defined muscles that roll with every movement of Harrington’s hips. 

Billy’s never cared much about kissing, but he can’t get enough of Harrington’s mouth. It’s obvious that he likes it, having latched onto Billy’s lips however long ago and not relented since. Billy’s not complaining. Harrington finds places in Billy’s mouth that he never thought could feel this good, takes over every one of his senses easy as breathing. He’s a tall wave bowling Billy over, taking up all the space in his head and chest and lungs, and it’s all he can do to hold on. 

There’s no fighting while they fuck, no raucous and derisive laughter, taking potshots at each other like they have something to lose. 

It’s good. 

Billy was sure it would be, but… It’s like nothing he’s felt before. Harrington is everywhere; the scent of his hair products in Billy’s lungs, the taste of his sweat on Billy’s tongue, his body a heavy weight on top of Billy’s. His name on Billy’s lips, a litany of Steve, Steve, Steve that Billy barely registers is coming from him. 

Harrington’s mouth never leaves his skin, not for a second, the maddening slide of his tongue leaving a line of fire wherever it goes. Harrington’s breath is hot on his neck. 

Billy can’t figure out why it feels so overwhelming, why this feels so different from anyone else he’s fucked before. After a while, he stops trying to. 

By the end, Billy doesn’t know which way is up, if it’s been minutes or hours. He can barely hear himself breathe over the thundering of his pulse in his ears. He forgets that he’s not supposed to drag this out, that he’s not supposed to linger, too busy riding the aftershocks of the pleasure Harrington brought out on his body. 

He’s struck dumb. Or fucked stupid, more like. 

This is nothing like he thought it was going to go. It was supposed to be about getting off, but Harrington turned it around on him. 

The backseat is cramped, and Billy’s skin is uncomfortably sticky against the warm leather, but his body sings when Harrington rearranges them so Billy’s lying on top, on his stomach, and with his nose tucked into Harrington’s neck. 

“C’mere,” is all Harrington says. Then he drapes his dumb members only jacket over Billy’s back. “I know how cold you get.”

Billy thinks he might be able to fall asleep like this. He’s not even itching for a cigarette. 

“You good?” Harrington says, and Billy grins against his chest. Harrington’s chest hair tickles his lips. 

“You gotta ask?” Billy laughs, a soft, light thing. He didn’t know he was capable of making a sound like that. 

Billy still can’t feel his toes, but he’s not gonna tell him that. 

“Dunno,” Harrington mumbles. There’s a note of uncertainty to his voice now, a dip in his confidence that Billy wasn’t expecting, not now.

Billy lifts his head to rest his chin on Harrington’s chest. He’s staring at the darkened car ceiling, but his hand is tight on Billy’s hip. 

“Could be better,” Billy says, and Harrington’s eyes jump to him, a touch too wide. Billy’s smirk grows. “The beer’s outside.”

Harrington bursts out laughing, pale throat stretched and gleaming in what little light spills into the car.

“If I go out and get it you’re gonna freeze to death,” he says, one hand coming up to Billy’s face. The tips of his fingers stroke lightly over his forehead, almost imperceptible, and push a stray curl away from Billy’s eyes. 

It hits him then, why everything feels so different from his other fucks. He barely has two brain cells left to rub together, caught in Harrington’s warm gaze, and it’s been niggling at him this whole time. How is it that Harrington can make Billy’s brain just shut off. 

“Wouldn’t want that,” Billy mumbles distractedly.

“No.” Harrington’s smile goes soft around the edges, and his fingers stroke Billy’s cheek. “I wouldn’t.”

Harrington’s looking at him like he’s precious. Like something he wants to keep. 

Billy’s retort gets lost on the way to his mouth.

“I’m good,” is what he ends up saying. Harrington smiles. 

He is good, Billy thinks. Right here, under Harrington’s jacket, legs tangled together, the chill of the night shut away for now. 

He’s better than he’s been in a while. 

--

Thank you for reading my piece!

Please look forward to the next one, done by the the lovely @billysblueeyes!!!! Go go go!!

#harringrove #harringrove relay race #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #sorcery writes #mine #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet

[weird-an]

"This town sucks, Maxine. I don't get why you like it here," Billy says, sucking on his cigarette and flooring the gas pedal.

Max rolls her eyes - like Billy would ever like anything. Even in California, he talked shit about the dates he had been on, about how Neil wants him to drive her around, how the waves had been shit that day. She only ever saw him happy when he was hanging around with Argyle, the big dude with longer hair than her, who always smiled so contagiously that even Billy grinned occasionally.

She can't remember the last time she saw Billy smile, she suddenly thinks. Not in Indiana, only ages ago in the Californian sun.

"Because I've got friends," she tells him, thinking of El's shampoo smelling like strawberries and Lucas giving her his cone of blue moon ice cream. "People that really care about me."

Billy's jaw works.

"Wait until they find out you skate like shit," he says finally. It sounds strained and a bit wet, like he's about to cry. Which can't be, because Billy only cries when Neil leaves and he thinks no one can see him. "Wait until they think you're not cool anymore and they've got no use for you."

Is that what Billy thinks friendship is? A farce to get what one wants? She can't take the thought, thinks of Billy always smelling like hairspray and going to every party in town. But Billy hangs out with Steve, right? He doesn't talk about it at all, but Dustin always moans about it when she sees him.

"Not everybody is like that," Max says. Her heart feels funny in her chest, like it's too big to fit in there. "There are people that like you for who you are."

"Grow up, Maxine." Billy turns around a corner with screeching tires and Max grabs the door's handle.

"Steve likes you," Max says, because why doesn't he see it? Does Billy really feel like that? It makes her sick, even though he's an asshole most of the times. "Dustin says you're all he talks about."

"He does?" Billy stares at her, voice unsure and weirdly hopeful, cheeks tinged pink.

"Pretty sure he does." Max stares back, for a second, wondering what she's seeing right now, before she remembers they are still driving way too fast and Billy's big blue eyes are still on her.

"Billy!" she screeches. "Watch the road!"

"Don't be such a chicken, shitbird." Billy snorts and drives even faster, but keeps his gaze fixed on the road. His face is still red.

"I'm not a chicken!" Max flips him off. It's easier to pretend to hate each other. It's easier than to worry about him. It's easier to say he isn't her brother, because if he is, it's too complicated.

"You are." Billy makes a noise. He clucks. "That's what you sound like all the time."

"Fuck you!"

Billy clucks again. What an idiot. "That's all I hear."

But he smiles. It's tiny. It feels precious. Max doesn't want to pretend. Maybe one day she won't.

#i'm so emotional about their relationship rn #max mayfield & billy hargrove #harringrove #implied harringrove #billy hargrove #billy hargrove ficlet #max & billy

[bookshelf-dust]

a little lovin’

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 600

warnings: none

a/n: it’s late. i’m emotional. this is a little baby something that i wrote very fast. i don’t know. i just need a billy hug.

————

You creep down the hallway, socked feet making nary a noise. You avoid the floorboard that you know squeaks, leaving your approach totally silent. Your hands are even squeezing the sleeves of your sweater, emotion filling your ever vein. You’re almost bursting with it.

Billy is bent over the dresser you share, one of the top drawers pulled open. He’s rifling through it, maybe looking for socks of his own. You pause in the doorway, notice the jeans and shirt stacked on the bed behind him. He’s got work tomorrow. 

He pulls out a belt and tosses it over his shoulder, the metal buckle clinking as it hits the soft of the mattress. 

You inhale and move towards him, watching the way his arms move, catch that sliver of tummy exposed because the arm holes in his tank top are much too big. 

You wrap your arms around Billy’s waist and give him a little squeeze. Just enough to let him know that you’re there. 

Billy doesn’t jump or flinch. He isn’t startled. You’re a quiet person, and he’s learned to expect soundless appearances from you. It’s the contact that pulls at his heartstrings.

It’s not as though you never touch him, it’s only that it took you so long to get to this point. He knows it’s taking a lot for you to do it now. 

Billy glances over his shoulder, a huff of a laugh leaving his mouth. “Hey, baby.”

He shuts the drawer and spins around, your arms still encircling him as he turns. Your face settles against his chest, just as it had between his shoulder blades. 

He rubs up and down your spine, squeezes at your hips, lets his thumbs drag softly across the nape of your neck. 

You let up a little and look up at him. The second his eyes lock with yours, you start to tear up, and suddenly Billy has gone blurry.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he asks, brow furrowing out of concern.

You’re quick to shake your head and blink away the tears before they can spill out. 

“I love you. Just wanted to tell you.”

Billy’s lips tip down at the corners. You’re being so sweet to him. 

“I love you too.”

Though he’s not sure what brought this on, Billy doesn’t ask questions. 

Really you’re not sure either. You were on the couch, staring off into space, waiting for Billy to come and sit with you awhile. Your gaze had fallen on a picture frame settled on top of the tv, next to the antenna. 

The image stuck inside was one of the two of you from your senior year, leaning against the Camaro. Max had taken it. 

You started thinking about what Billy had been going through at the time, how strong he is, how much he deserves. 

You felt overcome with love for your boy.

You lift your hands up and he immediately presses his palms to yours, knowing where this is going. “Too cold?” 

Billy grins. “They’re fine.” 

He always whines that your fingers are like ice, so you like to check. You don’t want to hurt him.

With his okay, you slip your hands underneath the thin and worn cotton of his shirt, fingers splaying out across his back. 

“I love you,” you say again. “You’re my whole world, Billy.”

“Shit.” He holds onto you tighter and blinks hard. You’re making him emotional now. “I love you, baby. You’re everything.” 

You kiss him on both cheeks and keep your eyes on his. You just wanted to tell him, to make sure he knew. And he does.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove ficlet #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove comfort

[jarviscockerssecrethusband]

Steve managed to accidentally crush his headphones over the weekend, so he reluctantly turned to Billy Hargrove for help.

Steve and Billy hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best of starts, considering they beat the crap out of each other within the week. Billy has mellowed out significantly since Neil had left though, so Steve told himself to grow some balls and walked into the general repair shop Billy worked at.

The death metal blasting from the speakers was obnoxious but there was basically nobody there so Steve was able to swallow down the rising panic creeping up his throat. Billy was just some guy. He’d move back to California come the new year and Steve’s life would be exactly the same as it had always been. At least that’s what he told himself.

Billy raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Steve tripping over the step on his way up then stammering his way through an apology. His headphones lay sadly tucked under arm, limp and lifeless.

Actually getting the word autism out was harder than Steve anticipated. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to telling other people or maybe it was because he found Billy very attractive and he knew what happened whenever anyone he liked found out.

The curl of the lip. The sneer. The asking if he was like mentally five or something.

He managed to stumble his way through explaining that they were his sensory aides and they really helped him not get overwhelmed in public and please don’t punch me again Hargrove.

Billy didn’t punch him, much to Steve’s great surprise. Instead he mumbled something about be right back Harrington and disappeared into the staff only area, only to return with a brand new pair which he thrust into Steve’s hands.

“I get it Harrington. Just take these, you busted yours pretty badly. On the house.”

Steve was pretty sure his brain malfunctioned briefly and then attempted to exit the shop after pushing on a pull door.

Billy had been pretty civil with him. So either it was all some great prank that was about to fall on his head or Steve may have misjudged him just a little.

He didn’t risk reaching out again until a month later when he’d really managed to fuck his oven up and gave himself a five minute mantra about being confident before dming Billy on Instagram asking for help.

A message came back in a minute asking what the fuck he’d managed to do. Steve insisted he had no idea then he just got a short, blunt “on my way princess.”

Billy’s tool box was extensive. As much as Steve would have wished, that wasn’t an innuendo. He just had a lot of kit, probably more than was needed for the actual state of the oven.

They hung out a bit while Billy tinkered, threw out jargon that Steve didn’t understand, then declared it was fixed. Steve resolutely tried not to stare at a peach ass in very tight denim. He may have failed.

A comfortable silence fell afterwards until Steve panicked and asked if he wanted a coffee. It only seemed polite. Billy had been working all afternoon pretty much.

How that ended in them snuggled onto the sofa, Steve couldn’t exactly remember. All he could really register was that Billy’s arms were warm and strong and Steve wished he could just stay there.

Then he snuggled in further and Billy stiffened up. Crap. He’d fucked up somehow.

Steve pulled himself back up into a sitting position, self consciously checking his hair. Billy looked slightly bewildered but more at himself than Steve.

“You…………you alright man? I didn’t push you too far right?”

He got a slow blink in response and being pulled back into a muscular chest. Steve just hoped he wasn’t doing his “simp face”, as Robin had named it.

“Steve”

Ok first name was not a good sign. Prepare for a fist.

“I fucking like you ok? Don’t laugh. I’ve liked you ever since I first set eyes on you, you beautiful oblivious bastard.”

And Steve. Steve had always kind of hated romcoms. They were dumb and clishe and the couples who got together by the end never really made sense.

But looking at Billy’s slightly flushed face and after hearing his confession, Steve thought the romcom route might be the best way to go.

Billy really was a very good kisser.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #harringrove ficlet #autistic steve harrington #modern au

[plistommy]

Just… Steve and Billy swimming inside Steve’s pool during the summer of ’85, kissing and laughing as they let the night fall around them. And soon, the stars are up in the sky as they lay on the ground with a soft towel under them, bodies close and warm while Steve explains the star sings to Billy with a sweet smile.

And Billy?

Billy has never been this in love.

#Missing harringrove hours #REALLY missing them ahhhh #SOFT BOYS #My roots #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #The summer vibes in s3 and the fics that came from it were just… amazing #THE FIX IT FICS #stranger things #steve x billy #hc #headcanon #stranger things 3 #summer #ficlet

[camaro-and-smokes]

✨ This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race! ✨ @harringrove-relay-race

Screwdriver

S: I'm not looking to fuck right now, but my bathroom sink is currently flooding the bathroom

S: I know it's kind of random, but can I borrow a flathead screwdriver by any chance?

S: I don't really know my neighbours and you're the closest person to me on Grindr

S: 😅

Billy stared at the four messages he'd received, not quite knowing what to think about them. They were from Steve, the guy he'd been messaging on Grindr for a while here and there.

It had been a kind of a mistake for Billy to even see Steve's profile. Steve had said he had been meaning to delete the whole profile since all he'd gotten through it was heartache and pain, but then had decided against it. Billy had the same kind of experience, so he'd suggested that they could just talk. And Steve had agreed.

They really didn’t know that much about each other, they talked about just casual stuff; work, TV shows and such. But Billy didn’t have anything special to do that evening, so why not. Steve seemed like a decent guy and Billy had an extensive selection of tools at home because of the Camaro he’d kept as a second car since it always needed something to be fixed.

B: Yeah why not.

B: Send me your address and I’ll bring it. BTW you should turn off the main water in case you haven’t yet.

Billy put his phone into his back pocket and went to the garage to rummage through his tools. Soon the phone blipped with a message.

S: Thanks, the water’s turned off. I’m panicking, didn’t even think of that. The address is 357 Oak Street, 3rd floor.

Billy snorted.

B: No problem. I'll be there in fifteen.

Steve didn’t actually live that far from Billy, which was surprising. Billy was sure he had never seen Steve around. Brown-haired, doe-eyed and tall men were his kryptonite. He was pretty sure he’d remember a guy looking like Steve.

He parked his truck and Steve buzzed him in.

Billy stepped out of the elevator in Steve’s floor. It wasn’t hard to know which one was Steve’s door: it was the one ajar through which he heard cursing. He walked to the door and knocked on it before opening the door wider.

“Hey, it’s Billy,” he said after he opened the door and couldn't see anyone in the corridor.

“Yeah, come in, I’m a bit busy right now,” came from somewhere behind the open door. “Shut the door.”

Billy closed the door and turned to look at the corridor opening behind the door – and almost inhaled the gum he’d been chewing, followed by a coughing fit.

Steve was on his knees on the bathroom floor, leaning under the sink into the sink cabinet – his ass high up in the air, clad in nothing but wet, green basketball shorts that were glued to his ass and his hairy legs – jesus christ how can someone be that hairy – and not leaving any other assets to imagination either.

He backed out from the cabinet, turned around and sat on the floor. “Oh good, thank fucking lord,” he let out, looking tired but clearly relieved. When he saw Billy all red from coughing, his expression turned worried. “You okay?”

Billy nodded, still trying to catch his breath, and lifted the toolbox in his hand.

Steve got up and walked to the bathroom door, looking flustered and rubbing his hands to his thighs.

For fuck's sake would you stop doing that Harrington.

Billy was half hard already from seeing that wet ass, no further sights needed.

“I wish we could’ve met under other circumstances,” Steve said, smiling awkwardly, not knowing where to place his hands, on his hips, his arms crossed, again finding their place on his hips. He pointed at the toolbox. “Uh… I needed only one...”

Think about the tools. THE TOOLS.

“There are more than one size,” Billy croaked before coughing a few last times to his sleeve. “You didn’t tell me which, so I brought all I have.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Billy asked, his brows raising.

This is turning into a porn film cliché.

Steve turned red and grimaced, trying to turn it into an awkward smile. “Like I said in the message, I panicked.”

If he curls his hair around his finger and bats his eyelashes a few times I swer I won't be able to hold it.

Billy looked Steve in the eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate to all possible horrors of mismanaging a burst water pipe or a broken tap could cause. Then his eyes fell to Steve’s chest and the dark hair, a lot of it, that was clearly visible under the wet white t-shirt and he felt himself blushing.

Act normal, act normal, act normal....

To keep his thoughts on the task, Billy set the toolbox on the floor and took off his jacket and set it on the chair that was in the corridor. “Okay, let me take a look. Is the floor wet?”

Steve shook his head as he stepped aside to let Billy into the bathroom. “Not anymore. I mopped the floor, but I just didn’t see a point in changing clothes. Didn’t want to get the rest of my wardrobe wet.”

The bathroom was small, so they brushed against each other just a little as they passed, enough for Billy to get a whif of Steve's scent. He smelt of cedar wood, hairspray and a little sweat – a winning combo, apparently, since Billy's had to hold back a whimper and lock his eyes to the sink cabinet. “You didn’t think to call a plumber?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even, as he squatted in front of the sink and looked into the cabinet to check what kind of screws he had to open.

“I did. The one I reached said that if the drain isn’t clogged and the tap isn't leaking there’s no point in me paying for the nighttime extra and that he comes to fix it first thing in the morning. But he said that I should get rid of anything that’s under the sink so that he can get to work when he arrives. So I was doing that when I realized that I didn’t even have a coin I could try to pry open the screws.”

Billy took a deep breath. “Okay, well, that’s good. Based on your messages I was afraid that you were trying to fix the pipes with the screwdriver.”

Steve snorted, amused. “Well, I might not be a handyman but even I’m not that dumb.”

Billy looked up at Steve with a smirk. “You need to take this cabinet out for the plumber?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, it’s good then that I brought my whole toolbox then because not all of these won’t open with a flathead, they need a Phillips.”

“They need a what now?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows.

Clueless pretty thing, definitely checks the box.

Billy got up and chuckled. “I’ll take the cabinet apart for you, now that I’m here. But could I get a glass of water first? The coughing…”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Steve said and left the bathroom to fetch it.

Billy was setting up the electric screwdriver when Steve returned with the glass.

Steve was still wearing the same wet clothes, because of course he was.

I want to claw those off and bury my face into that chest hair.

Steve looking down at himself all of a sudden made Billy realize that he had probably stared a bit too intensively and blushing. He downed his water quickly before handing the empty glass back to Steve.

“Uh… I’ll leave you to it,” Steve said, smirking. “I'll go change.”

Yeah, you had to point that out. What, you want me to follow instead of taking this shit apart and fuck your brains off?

Well, okay, maybe Billy wanted to do that, but that was not what they'd agreed upon. Better if he stayed on his lane, for now.

This isn't a porn film, not a porn film...

“Yeah, this shouldn’t take long,” Billy replied, not daring to look back at Steve again, and got to work.

Once he had taken the cabinet apart he put away his tools and looked into the living room where the bathroom opened to. Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intently at his laptop and tapping away. He was wearing eyeglasses, something Billy hadn’t seen in any of the photos Steve had shared online. They fit him, framing his face nicely. Billy's eyes wandered lower and he realized that Steve was wearing only sweatpants, his glorious chest hair all on display. There was a lot of it indeed.

I want to press my nose into that, snuggle into it, run my fingers through it, tug it when I come. He cleared his throat. “Uh, I took the cabinet apart.”

Steve looked up, smiling and put the laptop away. “Hey, that’s awesome. Thanks, man! How can I repay you?” he asked as he walked to Billy.

Do not think about it, do not think about it, DO NOT…

“Uh...” Billy managed to get out, rubbing his neck with his hand. This wasn't a fucking porn film, he reminded himself, even if a handyman came to fix something at the house and oops, only the good looking little missus is at home, wearing skimpy clothes and instead of fixing anything they end up fucking against the kitchen counter like horny bunnies. Okaaayyy, well, Steve had been wearing wet skimpy clothes that left nothing to imagination and now he was wearing even less, he was maybe also a bit clueless and…

Billy tried to keep his head in check and glued his eyes on Steve's face. “Can I take you to dinner?”

Steve raised his eyebrow and measured Billy from head to toes with a lazy gaze.

Billy felt naked.

Steve smiled. “Uh… Should I be the one doing that, though?” He was quiet for a moment and smirked. “What if I'm all out of money and you have to get your pay, are there other ways I could do that?”

Billy swallowed and turned beet red. He let out a laugh and licked his lower lip.

Steve hooked his right thumb on the waistband of his sweats, pulling it down a bit and revealing the beginning of a very hairy happy trail.

The fucker.

Billy started to unbutton his shirt. “Well... Maybe we could come to a mutual agreement about that.”

=====

Please look forward to the lovely, wonderful and amazing work from the next contributor @hg-deranged-edition

=====

The ficlet is based on this meme:

#harringrove relay race #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fic #steve x billy #billy x steve #suometar writes #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington

[fizzigigsimmer]

Billy catches himself perving on the guy who runs down his block every morning. It's those floppy shorts. Billy’s not even a leg guy, but there's something so shapely about them. They leave the impression that they were flawlessly sculpted in clay. Here is youth and beauty as can only be imagined and never had- except there they are gliding by, holding up a nice handful of ass. Billy's not a creep so about the time his brain starts spitting poetry over a strangers ass is exactly the moment he decides to get on with his morning and leaves the window. But he starts taking his coffee by the window more often, just to see perfection run by, because it's not a bad way to start a morning all considered.

One day they communicate. The runner stops outside Billy’s window to take a drink from a plastic bottle and notices Billy standing there behind the glass. Gives a silent good morning in the form of a neighborly nod and an awkward wave. Billy raises his mug, all howdy neighbor. And as long legs carry that bouncing ass away he thinks, ‘fuck I need to hit that’. There are a few obstacles to this new goal of his. It's the 90s but these things still have to be approached carefully. He starts looking for signs, because it’s something to do. Would a gay man wear his sweatband like that?

The shorts get shorter. Tighter. Sometimes the runner will stop at the corner for a breather and a stretch. That little shit knows what he's doing. He's totally gay and asking for a spanking to boot. That’s a good day. Billy whistles on his way to work and doesn’t even get mad at the terrible drivers on his commute. But then the very next day something new happens. The runner isn’t alone. There’s a girl with him. Girlfriend? Wife? Fuck. They seem close. She's hanging on his arm and laughing her ass off. The fuck is her problem? Nobody is that funny.

Billy's mood has soured but it picks up when the runner meets his eye as they are passing his window. He gives Billy a shy wave before tugging his little friend along. People do have platonic friends of the opposite sex, Billy remembers. Movement catches his eye, and he has to lean a little to see further down the street but the girl is walking backward, a step or two behind her friend, waving her arms in the air. When she sees that she has Billy's attention she points at the runners back and makes the call me gesture with her other hand. And just in case Billy somehow failed to get the message she makes an enthusiastic thrusting motion. Billy nearly chokes on his coffee. Right. Not his girlfriend then.

Now with part 2.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #short ficlet #😂 based on true events #my old roomie had a crush on one of our neighbors #it was a whole saga