#give me billy’s happy ending saying fuck neil

[billlydear]

BASIC BIOLOGY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE) | PART TWO | PART THREE

word count: 4926 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: you're paired with billy for a biology project. you only visit his house once, but it's enough for you to understand why he doesn't want you to come over again. when he starts showing up more and more in your life, you realize that it's basic biology: you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Contents: gn!reader (let me know if i made a mistake on that anywhere!), the climax is a scene that's based on 2.8 (?) where billy finds out that max is missing, and neil shoves him into the closet and slaps him. it's not word-for-word, it's about a different scenario, but it's the same fight. please don't read this if it'll trigger you. fluff, angst, eventual happy ending.

A/N: i hope that you enjoy this! it's been a brainworm of mine for a while, and i'm thrilled to have the first part finished. let me know what you think! I honestly think that this could just be read as a one-shot, so don't let the 'part one' deter you 😅

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

To say that you’re not thrilled about your partner assignment for this biology project is an understatement. Billy Hargrove, said partner, is smoking out the window, and you’re not even sure if he’s heard that you’re partners yet. The most he gives you is a steady glance from across the room, but you think that he might have just felt you burning a hole in the side of his head with your imploring gaze. 

When you’re all released to plan with your partners he makes no move to stand. He only curls his lips tighter around the cigarette and sucks down smoke.

You bite the bullet and stand, clutching your assignment sheet in your hands that are growing sweaty with nerves.

“Hi,” You supply lamely, taking the seat next to him that’s been vacated by his previous seatmate, “I guess we’re partners, then.”

“I guess.” He drawls, tilting his head towards the window to let smoke billow from between his lips. “So, what, you wanna come to mine?”

You freeze. He’s more forward than you’d expected. “Uh,” You thumb through the notes you’d taken, the project rubric, “Like- like today? After school?”

“Yeah,” He hangs his arm out the window to snuff the cigarette out on the sil, “My folks won’t be home ‘til late. We’ll have time to work.”

“Okay,” You agree cautiously, glancing over at his empty rubric sheet, concerningly devoid of notes, “Uh, what’s your address?”

“I’ll just drive you,” He glances at the clock, showcasing three minutes to dismissal, “I’ve gotta take my stepsister home too, though, so we’ll pull into the middle school first.”

“Oh. Thank you,” You blink, fingers curling tight around your papers, “I’ll, uh- go get my stuff.”

You rush back to your seat to pack your bag with a strange haze over your thoughts. Everyone knew Billy, what he wanted, what he did. He was notoriously forward, and though he had been straight to the point, you hadn’t felt like... prey. Still, something tugged at the pit of your stomach, a warning to be careful.

The bell rings and you turn, finding a pair of worn boots in your line of sight. You glance up at the wearer, finding Billy already waiting for you.

“Uh, sorry,” You stammer, rushing to stand and subsequently hitting your head on the desk, “Fuck-!”

“Jesus,” Billy chuckles, and you’re worried you’ll analyze the sound and find components of mockery in it, “Careful.”

“It’s fine,” You hiss, but before you can rub at the spot you’d hit, Billy’s hand is there, mussing your hair and pushing you forwards, towards the door of the class. It’s something you’d do to your clumsy younger brother, and it feels odd coming from the chain smoking California kid everyone talks about.

“My stepsister’s out in twenty,” He informs you, a presence on your left as you walk out the front doors of the school, “So we’ve got, like, fifteen minutes to talk about our plan, if you want.”

“That’s good,” You hum, trailing after him to an impressively flashy car, “I think we should just draw everything. I know she said we could use clay, but that costs more, and I’ve already got colored pencils.”

“Fine by me,” He makes for the passenger door first, throwing it open and gesturing for you to get in, “You can put your bag in the back.”

When you’re seated, he shuts the door for you, and you’re oddly grateful for the gesture. It’s kind, and once more, out of character for the stereotypes you’ve heard about him. There’s a tense few seconds of silence in the camaro as he crosses to the other side, and your cheek finds its way between your teeth. But once he gets in and starts the car up, the stereo blares to life with a mixtape you’re sure he’s made himself.

“Sorry,” He grunts, reaching for the dial, “We can talk.”

“It’s fine,” You shake your head, “I don’t mind music.”

Though he cranks the dial back up, it’s not all the way, and the music becomes background noise to the shuffling of papers in your lap.

“So,” You start, thumbing through notes and ideas, “Like I said before, clay is difficult to work with, and messy, plus we’d have to model it and let it dry, and I think leaving clay unattended in my house would result in a disaster. And if we just draw it instead, they’re simple shapes and there’s nothing too complicated to draw, whereas clay would be harder to sculpt. And-”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just draw it,” Billy chuckles again, checking his rear-view mirrors for oncoming cars as he peels out of the parking lot, “If you wanna draw it then we’ll draw it.”

“Oh. Okay.” You sit back with a huff, unsure whether to be indignant because you were cut off or grateful that you seemed to be getting along.

“If you don’t have your colored pencils with you I’m sure my stepsister has some,” He theorizes, “But maybe you should ask her. If I ask her I’ll get one jammed into my eye.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “She’s, uh- spirited, then?”

“Mean-spirited.” Billy drawls, turning a bit harder than he should down a residential street on the way to the middle school, “She sucks.”

You’re sure that Billy wouldn’t be going out of his way to pick her up from school if she sucked. Or at least, if she sucked all the time. You’re well aware siblings have their feuds, but when she runs up to the car with a skateboard in her hands, you know he’s bluffing. If he really disliked her, she could have skated home. Now you know he’s softer than he lets on, but you keep it to yourself, smiling awkwardly up at her when she pulls open your door without looking first.

“Backseat, dipshit,” Billy scoffs, “I’ve got company.”

Company. It sounds like a dirty word, at least, coming from Billy who’s company typically consisted of girls spread eagle over the hood. But you reach for your seatbelt, “I can sit in the back, if you want?”

“No.” He pushes your hand away from the buckle, nudging it into your lap, “She’s younger and she’s annoying. Backseat, dipshit.”

With a huff she slams the door, and you’re suddenly not sure that you’ll avoid a colored pencil to the eye, either. Billy’s peeling out of the parking lot before she’s even buckled her seatbelt, and she sends him a nasty glare through the rearview mirror, one that you’re sure has the power to burn a hole through his head.

“So, uh,” You turn slightly in your seat, meeting eyes with the disgruntled middle schooler, “What’s your name?”

“Maxine.” Billy drawls, at the same time she snaps, “Max,”.

“Max?” You echo cautiously, and she snaps out of her glare at Billy to size you up. She seems relieved, almost taken aback that you’d listened to her instead of her stepbrother. She nods, and her lips curl in something that you’ll take as a smile, even if it’s barely perceptible.

“I think I’ve seen you around,” You muse, “You go to the arcade, right?”

“Yeah,” She nods, “You... you wear the green converse, right?”

“That’s me,” You laugh, raising your leg and lifting the hem of your pants to showcase the olive green sneakers.

“You know what shoes they wear?” Billy sneers from the front, glancing back at her through the mirror. 

Her face flushes as she ducks it down to stare at her lap, and you’re quick to swat gently at his shoulder, “Be nice!”

He looks at the hand you’d used bewilderedly, and Max bites back an amused smirk.

You’re nervous for a moment, afraid you’d cracked some ancient rift between the two, but Billy just clenches his jaw, shooting her another glare through the mirror and turning down a side street into a residential neighborhood.

Though he’s entered new territory, he doesn’t slow down. He’s going fast enough to pummel any unfortunate child playing in the street, and your stomach twists uneasily as he only speeds up.

“Billy,” Your voice is cautious, anxious even, “Can you... slow down? There’s too many kids here, it’s making me nervous.”

“I won’t hit anyone,” He assures you, though it does little to calm you, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Maybe you- don’t!” You tense as a toddler veers too close to the street where he’s playing with a ball on his front lawn, your heart racing as he wobbles safely back towards his house, “Please, Billy?”

He doesn’t grace you with a response, and honestly, you think you’re lucky he doesn’t snap at you like he does Max, but he eases up on the gas, finally within the speed limit as he curves through neighborhoods in pursuit of his own.

He pulls into their driveway with ease, and it makes you question how often his parents are gone. Surely their cars would take precedence over his in terms of parking, and you worry about him and Max being left alone more often than not. You’re so caught up in pondering the stability of their home life that you run straight into Billy’s back as he wrestles with his keys, stumbling backwards and apologizing bashfully.

“Clumsy,” He labels you, but it sounds more like a nickname than it does an insult. A mere observation, not a crack.

Max is off to her room before you even step over the threshold, and ignores Billy’s shouts of, “Maxine, we need colored pencils!”

She slams her door in response, and his shoulders slump.

“Shitbird.” He mutters, and an involuntary laugh slips from your lips. He looks back at you with a sly grin, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a chair.

“Inventive,” You bend down to unlace your shoes, but Billy waves you off, so you keep them on. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“We’ve got a whole list of ‘em,” He boasts, and you admire the rare mention of the two of them as a duo instead of opponents, “I think her favorite is dickwad.”

“Oh, that’s even better,” You chuckle, “I’ll have to use that.”

“She usually pairs it with another insult,” He speaks as though he’s describing the plating process of a budding young chef, “Something like insufferable or shit-for-brains really gives it an extra kick.”

You fall into a comfortable silence while he points you to his room and while the rest of the house you can see seems lifeless and sterile, his room is definitely his. Posters on the walls, laundry on the floor, a discarded shirt, a belt, and- boxers, that you only notice as he kicks them into the depths of his closet. You try not to think about them as he tosses his bag on his bed, prompting you to do the same. You rifle through your papers again, watching as he arms himself with a single pencil.

“We should plan out what we’re drawing first,” You propose, hesitant to sit on his bed before he tells you that’s where you’re working. It feels too personal, you’d almost rather sit on the floor.”

“Okay,” He nods, taking the plunge and sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, “So we’re drawing…”

“Mitosis,” You freeze, glancing up at him apprehensively through your lashes, “Have you been paying attention in class?”

“I’ve been trying to dump enough ashes onto the flowers outside the window to kill them,” His head jerks upwards to look at you instead of your bag as he drawls sarcastically, and the earring in his left ear dangles, shining in the light streaming in from the windows. You heave a sigh with raised eyebrows, ducking your head to continue searching through your bag.

“Here’s a diagram,” You offer up a recent class handout, one that you’re sure he’d used to spit his gum out in, “This isn’t the order the steps are in, though. So we have to reorder them, then draw them all and write about them.”

“There’s only four,” He reasons, “That won’t take too long.”

You neglect to break the news to him that you’re a perfectionist. 

“You start with prophase,” You point to the corresponding picture, “And I’ll do metaphase. Then whoever finishes first can divide the last two.”

He nods once in acknowledgement, “I’ll get colored pencils from Max later. She won’t stab me if I offer her pizza first.”

You can’t blame him for his apprehension towards the redhead. She’s definitely fiery, but you have a sneaking suspicion she’s equally as sweet. You suppose siblings are always at each other’s throats, and Billy and Max are no exception. You get to work sketching out your diagram, and after it's formed, without a ruler to make straight lines, you attempt your own freehand ones. They’re supposed to be arrows, pointing to each part of the drawing to label them, but they come out lopsided and shaky. 

Billy glances up from his sketch when eraser shavings fly over it, peering concernedly at you as you nearly rub a hole through the paper with your eraser.

“Jesus,” He frowns, looking at the array of gray shavings on his comforter, “Are you trying to bury us?”

“Sorry!” You groan, sweeping the shavings away into your palm and dropping them into the trash can that he’s got by his nightstand, “I can’t get these lines straight.”

“Uh,” Billy straightens from where he’d been slouched against the wall, lost in his drawing, “I don’t think I have a ruler..”

“I figured,” You rub your eraser clean of pencil lead, “It’s fine, I can just-”

“Here,” He cuts you off, lunging for a record sleeve that he’s got propped on a milk crate by the foot of his bed, “You can trace it with this.”

You freeze with the sleek, stiff sleeve in your hands.

“Are you sure?” You glance cautiously at him, ghosting your fingers over the edges, “I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Don't, then.” He snorts, “Just trace the edge, you won’t get pencil on it.”

You carefully line the pencil up with the side of the sleeve, peering around his room once before tracing the line you need, “Do you have a record player?”

“Not anymore,” He shakes his head, his curls bouncing, “It got- uh, broken when we moved.”

You hum sympathetically, “That sucks. Maybe you can find a cheap one somewhere, like a yard sale, or something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” He glances up at you with a soft smile, but you don’t catch it, too immersed in your task. He takes the time to admire you curiously, his eyes tracing your features just like you do the arrow.

“There,” You breathe, handing the sleeve back to him once all of your lines have been drawn, “That’s perfect.”

“Mine’s done too,” He decides, tipping his folder so that you can see his final product, “That okay?”

“Looks good,” You nod, scanning the page for any possible mistakes, “That’s... A lot of detail. Wow.”

He chuckles, and you think it’s sheepishly, “Yeah. I draw fast, I guess.”

“I guess,” You parrot, “Okay, next?”

“Actually,” He slides the paper off of his lap, glancing at the clock on his wall, “It’s getting kind of late. If we want pizza delivery, we should call in now, that way it gets here before we get too hungry.”

“Oh!” You stiffen slightly, “Uh, I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t think I have money for pizza.”

“It’s fine,” He waves you off, “I got it. You’re probably the only reason I’m gonna pass this class anyways, I think I owe you more than two slices.”

“Bio’s hard,” You laugh lightly, “I think I’m doing worse in math, though.”

He groans, running a hand down his face, “Fucking math.”

“This unit is so confusing,” You gush, hearing the crunch of tires on gravel from somewhere outside, “I just can’t wrap my head around-”

“Quiet.” Billy demands, eyes wide.

“Uh- what?” You glance nervously at him. You’d started to let your guard down, to forget the rumors about Billy Hargrove, the basketball player with a whole lot of fire inside of him. You’d been comfortable on his bed, chatting about classes and drawing diagrams. But now, when he hears voices outside, he snaps.

“-parked in the damn driveway,” One grumbles, a man’s voice that makes Billy shoot out of his seat when it’s paired with heavy, thumping footsteps across the walkway.

Billy lunges for you, and you don’t have time to scream in shock before his hand, rough and large, slams itself over your mouth.

“Get in the closet,” He hisses, brow dipped in a ferocious frown, “Now!”

There’s no other way to describe how he moves you than manhandling. He grabs you tight by the arm with his free hand, dragging you up and off of the bed as you try fighting him on instinct. When you hear the front door open your brain catches up to you, and you rush to help his progress, not hinder it, so you stand from where you’d been limp in his arms and dart into the closet.

He’s barely able to slide the door shut on you before a series of knocks fall heavy on his door. They’re the type of knocks you’d only ever heard before in cop shows, the FBI banging on people’s doors ready to tackle them to the ground.

You’re petrified in the closet, squeezed between a series of shelves behind your back and the door pressed to your front. Your breathing is erratic, short, sharp intakes of breath warming your face as they hit the door in front of you and bounce right back.

“Yeah?” You hear Billy swing his door open, the hinges squeaking, “Oh, hi, dad.”

“Hi.” The same voice from before sounds, and it sends a shiver down your spine from how icy it is, “There’s a blue camaro parked in my spot. Any idea who’s that is?”

The question is sarcastic, of course, but your nose wrinkles at how unnecessary it is, not to mention condescending.”

“It’s-” Billy tries, but his dad cuts him off.

“It had better not be my son’s, whom I have told repeatedly not to park in the driveway. My driveway.”

“I’m sorry, dad.” Billy keeps his voice low, guilty, and you think it sounds earnest enough. Your breathing is calmer now, not normal but not panicked. Sure, it’ll be awkward listening to Billy get lectured by his dad, but you’d survive.

“The next time this happens,” Billy’s dad’s voice grows eerily venomous, “I will get your old baseball bat from our garage, and I will smash that car to bits, you understand? I don’t give a damn if you bought it, you’re parking it on my property and that means you’ll do it by my rules.”

“Yes, sir.” Billy recites, and your heart sinks at how impersonal their relationship seems. You’d had your concerns from the beginning, because everything about Billy’s home life seemed to indicate that it wasn’t the most conventional, but you pity the boy for his dad’s lack of human decency.

“Move it. And where’s Maxine?”

“She’s in her room,” Billy supplies readily, “She’s doing homework. And I was just about to order us pizza.”

You breathe easier knowing it’s over. That the danger has passed, that you’ll be out of the stuffy closet soon. But only silence ensues, there’s no acknowledgement from Billy’s dad. Not until-

“What?”

“There’s no spaghetti left,” Billy tries reasoning, “We finished it all last night. I just thought that pizza was-”

“Son,” Billy’s dad spits, “It is 6:30. That is well past our family’s dinnertime. And you haven’t fed your sister?”

“I was about to grab the phone, dad! To call the pizza place, and order so that they wouldn’t be later than seven. I know it’s later than we usually eat, I just thought that she’d tell me if she was getting hungry! And she hasn’t,” Billy huffs, “She’s been quiet since we got home from school.”

“You thought she’d tell you? Billy, it’s not her responsibility to run this household when we’re away, it’s yours. I’ve told you that time and time again. And she’s been quiet since you got her home from school? How do you know she’s even in her room? Do you? Have you checked on her?”

“No, dad,” Billy argues, “I haven’t checked on her. I’ve been doing my own homework, and you’re the one that left, so I don’t know why it’s my fault that-!”

You thought things were fine. Sure, it was an argument, but that’s all it was. Until it wasn’t. Until the door in front of you shakes, nearly snaps, as a colossal thud rattles its frame. You’re not sure how you managed to stay quiet, the door warping in its hinges and pressing tight against your front. You slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your newly-frantic breathing, eyes shut tight as tears bead in their corners.

“How dare you,” You hear that voice, the rough, hateful voice of Billy’s dad, only inches away from you. But he’s speaking to you, not away from you, and you come to the terrible realization that he’s slammed Billy into the closet door. You’d managed to keep up hope, imagining his stereo thrown across the room towards your location, but there’s no denying now that it’s Billy’s weight against your front, only a flimsy closet door between you.

“How dare you insinuate that this is my fault? How dare you tell me that I can’t leave my own home, and how dare you shirk your responsibilities to your sister. As if you’re not a grown man,” Billy’s dad spits, “You are more than capable of looking after a 13-year-old girl. You just choose not to, and I don’t know how else to get it through your head, Billy! This is your family, she is your sister, and when we are gone, you are her parent! She needs food, she needs attention, she needs care, she’s not a goldfish. Why don’t you care about her, Billy? Why do you keep acting like you are not a part of this family?”

There’s a moment of silence where Billy tries thinking of something to say. You use it to answer the question for yourself: because he isn’t. This isn’t a family, you realize, your chest still compressed by Billy’s weight, this is a broken home. The three of them, Billy’s dad, his stepmom, and his stepsister, they’re a family, but Billy isn’t. Not with the way they treat him, not with the things they expect of him. It’s no wonder he doesn’t like his family, because they really aren’t that.

It’s too late. Billy takes too long to answer (which you think is unfair with such a loaded question), and your stomach churns as you hear a sharp smack. You’re unfortunately certain that it hasn’t been Billy’s father on the receiving end, but your biology partner himself.

Thankfully, Billy’s dad doesn’t hear your gasp. Or maybe he does, but he thinks it’s Billy’s. Nevertheless, you know Billy hears it, and you hope that he takes some comfort in the fact that you’re still there, that you’re not selling him out and revealing yourself to get yourself out.

“You are her brother.” Billy’s dad breaks the silence, and you try matching your haggard breathing to Billy’s so that he doesn’t hear you, “You are responsible for her. And if you disobey me again, you will be punished. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” Billy mumbles, and you hate how thick his voice sounds in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Billy’s dad drawls, and you have the sudden urge to leap from the closet and punch him in the teeth, “I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“Yes.” Billy repeats, voice strong this time, “Sir.”

“Move your fucking car.” Billy’s dad spits, leaving him with another shove to Billy’s shoulders that pushes you even further back into the shelves. Your back is going to ache tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not while Billy stands petrified against his closet door.

The heavy footsteps recede, and there’s two pairs, a much lighter one there now, too. But Billy hasn’t moved, and you come to the sickening realization that Billy’s stepmom had been lingering in the doorway the entire time. Or just outside it. You must not have heard her light footfalls when they were so consumed by her husband’s earth-shaking ones. She had to have known what Billy’s dad was doing to him, why wouldn’t she stop him? Why wouldn’t she say anything?

You don’t have time to prepare for the closet door flying open, and for a split second, you’re afraid it’s Billy’s dad. But it’s not, it’s Billy, and he meets your eye for only a split second. It’s enough for him to notice the withheld tears in your eyes, and for you to notice his own. He gulps, swallowing a lump in his throat, and his eyes drop to the floor. There’s a glaring red mark on his cheek, one that looks like it stings.

“Climb out the window,” He mumbles, gruff and secretive, “Take your bag, it’s under my bed. Wait for me down the road, I’ll drive you home.”

You don’t have it in you to argue with him, not when he looks like he’s about to burst into tears. You creep past the open door carefully, even though the footsteps have receded, both pairs, down the hallway and into a different room. You don’t have a difficult time climbing out the window, and you shoulder your backpack after your feet are firmly on the ground. 

Billy shuts his window behind you, and you’re alone now, in the darkness.

The side of their house is somewhat overgrown, twigs and leaves snapping beneath your shoes as you trek off-property. You follow the path of the street until you’ve passed other houses, and don’t seem to be lingering near theirs. Then the roar of Billy’s car travels your way, and his headlights bathe your stiff form.

He’s gripping the wheel tightly as you open the door, and he doesn’t look at you as you get in. It’s awkward, tense, and you have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from fidgeting with them and setting him off.

The drive is quiet; he’s shut off his radio. He drives fast, and this time you don’t have the heart to stop him. You’re still worried, but you think you’ve figured out why he drives fast, and you’re not sure you blame him for it anymore. He’s controlling what he can, because he can’t control most things.

You’re only five minutes out from his place when you first speak up, clearing your throat experimentally beforehand, “Do you... wanna talk about it?”

You glance over at him subtly, watching his knuckles turn white on the wheel. 

“No.”

“Okay,” You breathe, and bite your tongue to stop from speaking for the rest of the ride.

He pulls into your driveway with a rough turn, and you’re sure he only knows which house is yours because he’d seen you getting the mail two weeks ago while he was cruising through your neighborhood. On a different occasion, you’d commend him for his memory, but it seems inappropriate now.

You unbuckle your seatbelt without prompting, careful not to annoy him. But you can’t stop yourself, before you shut the door you peer down at him. Of course, he doesn’t look at you.

“Billy,” You start, carefully, cautiously, “You don’t have to talk to me about it. Or- or anyone. But if you ever need a place to stay, a safe place for the night… you can come here.”

You think he’s going to yank the door shut himself and speed off. And you wouldn’t blame him, either. But to your surprise, his eyes shift, no longer on the road ahead but on you. He glances at you through the mirror, still too timid to meet your eyes unobscured, but his gaze shatters you. It’s broken itself, and inside of his pretty blue irises is a child screaming for help. Pain pools in his pupils and threatens to drip down his cheeks in tears you wish you could wipe away before they even start flowing. 

“I mean it,” You promise, “Anytime.”

He holds your gaze, lips parting to whisper shakily, “Thank you.”

You leave him with a soft smile, throwing your bag over your shoulder lightly. You shut the door and watch him leave, much slower and more controlled than when he’d peeled in. When he’s completely out of sight you turn with a sigh, trekking up your front steps and fumbling for your keys. It takes you a minute to get in the door because of how distracted you are, and in your frustration you slump against the wood, remembering the feeling of Billy’s closet door nearly choking you.

You’re shaken up, you can’t imagine how Billy feels. And there’s no telling how often his dad does this, after all, it barely took anything to set him off. You hope he’ll be okay for the night, and for his own safety you wish he’d stayed with you. You wish he’d parked his car on your driveway, without fear of anyone smashing it, and settled on your couch for the night. But he didn’t, and when you crawl into your bed that night, you hope he’s safe in his own.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

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[half-oz-eddie]

Thank you @shieldofiron for passing the baton my way ♡

here's my contribution for the @harringrove-relay-race!

There’s never a dull moment at 1566 Main Street, where Neil Hargrove is a slumlord. He owns a shitty building that’s hanging on by a thread and he’s too cheap to pay for the upgrades. But he wanted that ceiling rent, right? Cheap Bastard.

More often than Billy would like, his phone rings, because this or that is busted and fucked up, and Neil just leaves it all on Billy’s shoulders to get it done, and do it right or else.

He didn’t give a shit that he’d left Billy with such a mess. Their handyman quit months ago, and it was up to Billy as the superintendent to make sure this shit show of a building was running just enough to not end up with an investigative reporter exposing them on the channel 7 news.

Billy sat up, groaning in annoyance when his phone rang again. It was the new tenant down the hall, calling to tell him that his lock was broken.

Billy dragged himself to 3F, knocked on the door, and a preppy, bright-eyed pretty boy answered with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, thanks for coming so quickly. I was afraid I’d have to miss work.”

“Not a problem.” He assessed the lock. “This is a shit building anyway. My old man doesn’t do what he should for the tenants.”

“Well at least you care about the tenants, right?”

“Guess so.” He mumbled back, focusing his attention on the door.

The lock was a quick fix, only taking Billy roughly 10 minutes. Thankfully, he had all the right tools on hand. 

“Finished already?” The tenant asked.

“Yeah. Y’mind if I use your bathroom to wash my hands?”

“Go right ahead!” He said welcomingly. “It’s uh—“ He stopped himself with a laugh. “You probably already know where it is.”

Billy nodded, inviting himself down the hall. He caught a brief glimpse into the bedroom, spotting the curtain sheet and mattress on the floor as he passed by.

He washed his hands and headed back to the door, preparing to let himself out.

“I’m right down the hall in 3A, so, if you need anything, you can just knock on my door. Like I said, this place is a shit hole, so…I’ll expect to hear from you again.”

“I’ll probably uh, call first.” He nervously chuckled. 

“Whatever floats your boat, Mr. Harrington. See ya around.”

“Wa-wa-wait!”

Billy turned back. 

“I’d love to thank you. My friends say I make a mean cup of Joe.” He persuaded with a smile.

Billy shrugged. The neighbors weren’t usually so friendly, so this was a change of pace. “Why not?”

He was offered the only chair in Mr. Harrington’s apartment at a wobbly little table.

A few minutes later, Mr. Harrington joined him at the wobbly table, offering him his only good mug, keeping the mug with a broken handle for himself. He sat on a storage box, his chin meeting the tabletop.

“So, Mr. Hargrove—“

“Please call me Billy. My dad’s Mr. Hargrove.”

“Only if you call me Steve.” He grinned.

“Deal…Steve.” Billy charmingly enunciated his name.

“So, Billy,” he continued “have you always lived in Los Angeles?”

“No. Lived in San Diego most of my life. My gramps left this building to my dad about 4 years ago, and he made me the super.”

“Oh, I see. I kinda moved out here on a whim.” Steve shrugged. “I was staying in a shitty motel for a few days before I secured this place. My dad’s not too happy I’m here, so we’re not on speaking terms.”

“What’s he got against LA?” Billy curiously asked, eyebrows raising as he sipped the surprisingly delightful cup of coffee.

“Nothing, I don’t think. He’s just pissed I didn’t wanna join the family business. I wanted to give modeling a try.”

“Modeling?” Billy snorted.

“Y-you don’t think I can?”

“Pretty boy like you? You could definitely be a model.” Billy nodded.

Steve hung his head down, hiding a blush. “You’re uh…you’re a nice looking guy yourself. You’ve never considered modeling?”

“I did once, but the photographer said I’m…difficult to work with.” Billy smirked mischievously, causing Steve to laugh. “I just don’t like people telling me what to do. Stand like this, stand like that, poke your cock out a bit.” He joked. “Not my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Surfing, swimming, cars, I dunno. If I could do all 3 for the rest of my life, I would. But I’m stuck here, fixing shitty locks and making sure my old man doesn’t get sued.” Billy glanced at his vibrating phone and stood. “Gotta go. Thanks for that…mean cup of Joe.” Billy smiled. “See ya around.”

“Bye!” Steve waved, a wide smile on his face. He let out a happy sigh. Maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

A week later, Billy received a call after hours. It was Steve Harrington again.

“Hey. You having some kind of emergency? I’m…sorta off the clock.”

“Yeah I—shit—sorry! Something happened with one of my pipes and now there’s—ah! God dammit! There’s water everywhere. Couldja help me?”

“Be right there.”

Billy sighed and put his shoes back on. “I’m so tired of this shitty fucking building.” He grumbled. “Something’s always fucking fucked up.”

He swung his door open in annoyance, locked it swiftly and headed down the hall. 

He gave Steve’s door a harsh knock, his eyes narrowing at the wet idiot standing before him.

“I uh…” He exhaled. “I tried to fix it myself, but I made it a whole lot worse.”

Billy rushed in, groaning. “Jesus, Harrington, What did you do?”

“I-I dunno!” He exclaimed worriedly. “I just—I didn’t wanna bother you after hours.”

Billy was so irritated, but he couldn't find it in his heart to shout at the pathetic, sopping wet dumbass. One look in those shameful, doe eyes behind those dripping bangs, and Billy simply had no fight in him. It was pretty sweet of Steve to think of him by trying to fix the pipe on his own. But jesus, what a mess!

“This place is hanging by a goddamn thread, Steve.”

Billy went to work fixing the pipe, water splashing all over him in the process. It took him twice as long as the lock, but he was able to fix the problem before the kitchen began to flood. 

“I’m really sorry.” Steve apologized, handing Billy a towel. "I'll clean everything up."

Billy took off his shirt and rung it out in the sink. “Just…promise you won’t try to fix anything else by yourself, okay?”

Steve slowly nodded, as he was too stunned to speak. His eyes were glued to Billy’s wet, chiseled body, following the water droplets that fell into his jeans. 

“Uh—I—yeah. Yeah I promise.”

“Is there anything else you need fixed before I go?” Billy asked.

“N-no. Nothing else. I’ll let you know. I promise.”

Billy gently patted Steve’s shoulder and let himself out.

Billy returned to his apartment and opened up a can of beer, aggressively chugging it as he fought back the tears in his eyes.

Crisis fucking averted. He couldn’t imagine the world of pain his father would bring upon him if Steve’s apartment flooded.

He didn’t blame Steve. It wasn’t his fault. It was all Neil. Neil and his shitty expectations. His shitty demands and his shitty fucking building. 

Billy wanted to get out of there more than anything, but his father controlled his life for so long, he didn’t have anything to his name. He barely paid him a decent wage for being the building super. What was the fucking point anymore? Billy was destined to be alone and miserable in this dreary building. 

He cried himself to sleep. 

Another week passed. There were only 2 repairs needed in the building, and things felt fairly calm these days. Billy and Steve would catch one another in the hallway. Steve would always wave, and Billy would make a joke about Steve swimming in his indoor pool. 

One afternoon, Billy was on his way down to check the mail and Steve was waiting for the elevator.

“What’s with the big boxes? Moving out already?” Billy smirked, causing Steve to laugh.

“No, no. I bought some new furniture.”

Billy got a closer look at the boxes. Those were some pretty high end brand names. Looks like Harrington came from money. He wouldn’t have moved to an awful building like this, if he were Steve.

“D’you need some help assembling the furniture?”

“Really?” His eyes widened in surprise. “You gonna charge, like, an assembly fee?”

“I won’t. Just being friendly to a tenant and neighbor.”

They exchanged soft gazes and sweet smiles.

Steve accepted the help. “That’d be great. I really wanna get this table together before my friend comes to town to visit me this weekend. She’s gonna bring her girlfriend and her girlfriend really doesn’t like me.” Steve confessed with a laugh.

“No? How come?”

“She thinks I’m stuck up or something, I dunno. I guess it’s because I was an asshole in high school.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah me too.”

“I’m gonna bring these boxes down and then we can put together my furniture now, if you can.”

“I don’t have anything else on my schedule. I was gonna grab my mail and binge watch something.”

“Sorry for ruining your plans.” Steve teased as the elevator door opened.

“You’re not sorry.” Billy softly chuckled. 

They returned to Steve’s apartment together and assembled his table.

“Finally, it’s not a piece of shit little table like the last time you were here.”

“Yep. An actual decent table with some nice chairs.” Billy nodded satisfactorily. “Looks pretty good.”

“You wanna stay for dinner? A-as a thank you. I’ve got a lasagna prepped, if you’re hungry.”

Billy paused before accepting the invitation. “Sure. I could eat.”

Steve popped in his lasagna and toasted some breadsticks, then made 2 plates for himself and Billy.

“Looks damn good, Harrington. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“My mom was always cooking and baking for charity events and dinner parties so I helped out in the kitchen here and there.”

Billy took his first bite, a moan nearly slipping out of his mouth. “Jesus, this is the best food I’ve had in a long time.”

“Really? I-I’m sure you probably cook quite a bit yourself.”

“I don’t cook at all. No idea how.”

“Really? W—I could teach you, if you want. A-and we could eat a few meals together, if your schedule’s free.”

“I live where I work and I have all my meals alone. It’d be nice to eat with someone for a change.”

“You uh…want some wine? I dunno if you drink or—“

“I drink. I’ll take a glass.”

Steve poured a glass of wine for each of them, and they continued to chat into the late hours of the night. Steve fell asleep on his new couch and Billy washed the dishes before leaving Steve’s apartment and heading to bed.

His heart was racing practically the entire night and he couldn’t understand why. What was so great about the hot neighbor-slash-tenant with his soft, fluffy hair and his smooth voice and his stupid smile. Yeah, okay, maybe he looked sexy in an apron and knew his way around the kitchen and he was like a wife, who could also be a husband and he was every goddamn thing Billy wanted—but what’d that matter? He was damned to spend his life alone in that shitty building until Neil died and he was free to demolish it someday. 

Only then would he be free.

A month passed. Billy had dinner with Steve at least twice a week. Sometimes their dinners would turn into movie nights. Steve even invited him over for party games when his friends came into town to visit. 

And each moment they spent together, only caused Billy to fall deeper in love. 

Steve had to work, so there wouldn’t be any dinner that night. He made sure to give Billy some leftovers from the night before, so Billy heated them and ate them before going to bed early.

He groaned in annoyance when his sleep was disturbed by a late night phone call. 

“Another emergency?” He wondered, when he noticed Harrington’s name on the screen. It was 9:52 PM. Did his pipe burst again?

“Hey, Steve, what’s wrong? Is it the pipes?”

“No, but, I do need something repaired. Could you come by for a moment? If it’s not too much trouble.”

Steve was more of a treasure than trouble to Billy. He was the only sense of life in his dreadful world. He would come anytime Steve called, no matter how late.

“No problem, be right there.” He responded cooly, concealing his excitement to see Steve again.

He grabbed his tools and headed down the hall. Steve opened the door before he could knock.

“Alright, show me where the problem is.”

“It’s uh…not something you can use tools for.”

Billy raised a brow in confusion. “What’re you talkin’ about, Harrington?”

“Can—can you fix a broken heart?”

This is what he called me over for?

Billy laughed. “If I knew how, I’d fix my own.”

“Whenever I catch a glimpse of you around the building, you always look so sad and alone. I just…I hate seeing you like that.”

“I’m not like that when we hang out, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does. Because I feel better when I hang out with you too.” There was a long pause as they averted each other’s eyes. They could feel their hearts nearly beating out of their chests. "You like my coffee, you-you laugh at my jokes. You support my ambitions. Even my friends like you!"

"Yeah, your friend's girlfriend seems to like me more than she likes you."

They shared a laugh, and Steve's smile slowly faded as his gaze turned serious.

“W-what I’m saying is...” Steve clenched his sweaty fist “I think…I think I’m falling for you.”

Billy gasped upon hearing the confession. Was this a dream? Was he still in his bed, fast asleep? Maybe he should pinch himself to find out.

“You sure you’re not just trying to get a rent-free apartment?” Billy joked.

“Is uh…is it working?” Steve replied in jest.

Billy nodded. “Yeah. A little bit.”

When Steve gently pulled Billy into his arms, embracing him, Billy knew for sure this wasn’t a dream. He hadn’t been held like this in forever, maybe never. His mom used to hold him tight, but that was familial love. This was…a new and unexpected romantic gesture.

Billy did everything he could to hold back his tears. 

Steve gently pulled away, looking into Billy’s cloudy eyes with his own. 

“You really can fix anything, can’t you?” 

“I dunno if I would call this fixing, but I’m definitely building something new with you.”

Steve kissed him softly, and Billy melted into his arms. For a split second he imagined merging with Steve and never parting with him again. 

“One day, you and me, we’re gonna get the hell outta here. We’re gonna do everything we’ve ever dreamed of, and we’re gonna be happy.”

“Steve, this is the first bit of happiness I’ve felt in a long time. I’m almost satisfied with this.”

“You don’t have to settle, babe. We’re gonna have a beautiful life together, and you’ll never have to fix some shitty pipes ever again.”

“I’m holding you to that promise, pretty boy.”

They sealed the deal with another kiss.

And Steve did keep his promise. 

Thank you for reading! Please look forward to something incredible from @adelacreations ❤️

#harringrove relay race #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #ivy.doc #caliscoops.doc

[weird-an]

Mrs. Richardson is one of these teachers that stare at Billy with a thoughtful look and ask him to stay after class to talk about his potential.

Billy brings home straight As, because failure gets punished with a belt and a tirade of insults Billy sometimes dreams about. Mrs. Richardson already sees him at an Ivy League school, ignoring how he owns like four shirts and fixed her husband's car at the garage just last week.

"What do you wanna do when you're 30?" She asks him. "If you could do anything with your life?"

Billy blinks. He doesn't think, he'll make it to 30. But he can't tell her that or she'll dig deeper and who knows what sad excuse of a town Neil finds - that might be worse than Hawkins.

"An apartment and a job that pays enough." is what he settles for.

She frowns at him. "What kind of job?"

"Whatever." Billy shrugs and he knows he should make up a stupid lie about how he's interested in tech or whatever shit, but he can't. He turns fucking 18 tomorrow and he won't get out of here, because Neil takes his paycheck whenever Billy gets it.

"I like working at the garage," he offers carefully.

She sighs. "I think you could go to college."

She hands him a bunch of flyers Billy throw away at home and starts a whole monologue about scholarships for kids that aren't well off. Billy chews on his bubble gum and pretends to listen while wondering if he should hide his next paycheck in a can of pringles.

After a few minutes, he's dismissed with a "Think about it! You're a really good student."

Harrington leans against the lockers, obviously waiting for him and stares at him with his big brown eyes reminding Billy of toffee. Billy isn't in the mood to fool around today. But he's kinda scared that Harrington will lose interest as soon as a busty girl hits on him, so he can't really afford to leave it be. Billy gives him a tiny nod. Their ... well, not so secret sign, but no one is around to see it anyways.

They drive to the quarry separately, like they always do when Harrington's parents are at home and they have to swap his waterbed against the backseat of their cars.

Billy is faster. Because Harrington is a pussy and sticks to the speed limit. Billy's halfway through his cigarette when Harrington slides on the passenger's seat next to him.

"What did Mrs. Richardson want from you?" He sounds genuinely interested. Harrington is good in getting what he wants. Tells Billy he's hot and good in bed to keep him in mood. Gives compliments without sounding dishonest. Billy eats it all up. Sweetener that tastes like sugar.

"She asked me what I wanna do when I'm 30." Billy watches the faint orange glint of his dying cigarette.

"And what do you want?" Harrington's gaze presses Billy a bit harder down in his seat.

Billy opens his mouth to tell Harrington the same stuff he told her, but instead he hears himself say "To not be dead and maybe even fucking happy."

Well. There goes the chance of getting fucked until he forgets about birthdays of any kind.

Harrington's hand is a bit cold against his own. His thumb presses against Billy's wrist.

"I'll never get out of here," Billy chokes out and the ash from his cig falls on his jeans. "He's... he's going to fucking kill me."

It's so overwhelming. It's like the end is already written and no matter what book Billy grabs, it's always the same shit on the pages.

One day Neil will get too drunk and Billy will die. One day Neil will get his gun and Billy will die. One day Neil won't do anything and Billy will die.

Billy doesn't want to die. He wants to fucking live and he can't. Not here in fucking Indiana.

"I'm moving out," Harrington says slowly. "Next month."

Billy blinks the tears away and wonders what the fuck Harrington is talking about.

"There's only one bed...," Harrington's voice is unsure, like he's afraid of... Billy's answer? "You would be welcome any time."

Billy stares at Steve and sees the same tears Billy tries not to cry in his eyes. What the fuck is Harrington on about?

"I want you to be fucking happy, too." Steve rubs his nose. "I... could get a second key."

"What about ... if you're like... hanging out with a chick?" Billy asks, surprised that he only sounds half as strangled as he feels.

Steve laughs wetly. "You're the only one I'm seeing."

Billy flicks the cigarette out of the window. He's only doing what all his instincts tell him to do. He cups Steve's face and his heart beats way too fast.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Harrington." He wouldn't survive that. To be offered a… way out and its all turning out to be a joke.

"It's Steve," Steve corrects and buries his hand in Billy's hair.

He isn't sure who is kissing who first, but they are kissing and crying and sobbing all at once.

"So will you come over?" Steve asks, a bit breathless.

"Until you kick me out," Billy says.

Maybe Billy will turn 30. Maybe he's got a real chance - a chance that walked into his life dressed like a preppy asshole, but Billy never had a good taste in men.

@harringroveweek

#harringrove #oh and the pringles one oops #prompt: 30 years old - but I twisted it brutally #harringroveweek #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #tw child abuse

[passivenovember]

Happy Valentines Day!

Dedicated to my babies over in the smut cave. Thanks for making everyday so saturated in horniness that I can’t feel anything but love. You’re the best.

And to @cherrydreamer , who is so good I’m pretty sure God could learn a thing or two.

--

Steve’s not his boyfriend. Billy ties honesty around each wrist to keep himself in place whenever things start to feel a little too much like a roll of party balloons.

And they always do, with Steve. Because Steve’s an idiot.

He’s full of shining romance. He parks the Beemer outside Billy’s house every morning before school even though Billy’s got a car because Steve hopes, against all hope, that Billy will roll over and be his girlfriend.

That he’ll let Steve hold his hand and carry his books and allow Steve to drive them to school. Billy and Max, fighting over the radio station and tracking mud onto the floors while Steve grins like a moron.

Harrington has a death wish disguised as chivalry.

Because even though Billy aims to chew his head off and Neil would probably bury them both alive if he ever caught on, Steve climbs through bedroom windows and tucks notes onto mattress pillows and in between the slots of lockers because he’s got flowers growing out his ass.

Love’s gonna win out, for him.

Billy doesn’t get it. 

The hope. The peppery, love-sick gestures. He could pick them by the handful, each colored for a different moronic display of Steve’s lingering affection. 

And it’s not that Billy hates flowers, it’s just. 

It’s spring. 

It’s the promise of the days getting longer and air gusting warmer and the hope that even though he’s still living like a stoned crab under the ever-present weight of his father, Billy could relax into Steve’s attention and summer will drape itself over the land. 

If he just gave in, July would burn hot on his shoulder blades.

–

Billy doesn’t give in. 

He can’t.

He could lie and say it’s all part of some rude awakening. He’ll take Steve’s dick up his ass, down his throat, blooming like cactus blossoms between both hands, but he doesn’t love him.

But, turns out, as January melts into six more weeks of winter and Heather’s warning that this thing between Billy and Steve’ll vanish as soon as the ground starts to thaw, Steve gets restless.

Billy can’t blame him. Knows they’ve both got a lesbian ear-worm chewing their confidence to shit. 

Heather urges Billy to stop being such a piranha and Robin tells Steve he’s gonna get his heart smashed and tossed like a new penny into the ocean. Lost. Forgotten on its descent to the bottom of the hapless sea. 

And to be honest, no one’s ever been able to guess why Steve chose this. Billy, in all his pathetic glory. 

But he did. He picked Billy like a thorn from his side.

And they hammer themselves into something like the mockery of a relationship because that’s what people do. They fuck. They smoke pot and dry hump and fuck again, each chewing on the idea that maybe this won’t last. 

Billy’s good at ignoring it and Heather and himself until the weekend before Valentines Day. 

Steve pulls out of him. Rolls onto his back and says, “You never gaze at me,” even though his spunk is cooling the sheets under Billy’s naked thighs.

Billy shifts on the pillow, blowing smoke at the ceiling so it won’t end up in Steve’s eyes.

Steve won’t look at him.

He’s got the sheets tucked up around his chest, arms crossed over their slick face like he’s ashamed of himself, maybe, for the first time ever. Regretful of Billy. Of this thing between them.

Billy frowns. “I don’t do what?”

“You don’t gaze at me,” Steve tells him, Adam’s Apple bobbing like he needs a cool drink. “Y’know. Like when you see a pretty girl–”

“Don’t like girls, remember?”

“Okay, then,” Steve rolls onto his side, propping himself seriously on one elbow. “Say it’s a cute guy. Handsome.”

“Alright.”

“When you see a handsome guy, you know? In a nice car, do you ever–”

“Is it a fast car?”

Steve blinks. “Does it matter?”

“‘Course it does,” Billy sucks on his smoke again, teasing, “Fast car’s a sign of taste. And to be able to afford that kinda car you’ve gotta have money. And in my experience, any guy with money’s got a cock on him.”

“Every guy’s got a cock.”

“Yeah, but not every cock’s a good one,” Billy winks, “Ain’t that right, Rolls Royce?”

Steve turns red, all the way down his chest. Billy has the familiar urge to pin him to the mattress and lick at his nipples, see if they taste like strawberry jam when he blushes like that.

But Steve’s eyebrows are threaded together. Serious, when he says, “You’re saying the only thing that’d trap you in a gaze is a nice car?”

Billy shrugs. “I don’t gaze.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I could, though,” Billy looks over at him, guilty for the thrill that rolls through him at the sight of Steve, naked and pissed off. “If we’re talking about a fast car, and a rich guy, and a nice cock–”

“Forget it,” Steve snaps, sitting until the sheets pool around his waist. “Forget I said anything, alright?” Harrington jostles the bed, swinging his legs over one side. He reaches for his pants, tugging them on so roughly Billy’s worried he’ll give himself rug burn. 

Billy puffs on his cigarette. “Where you going, pretty boy?”

“Gotta piss.”

“You’re putting clothes on for that?”

Steve drops his pants as if they’ve caught fire. “Maybe I’ll leave.”

Billy snorts. “You live here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna kick you out,” Steve snaps. Annoyed. He’s never been this irritated with Billy before. So pressed he won’t even look at him.

Steve always looks at him. 

Gazes. 

It’s not a great feeling.

Billy props himself against the headboard, trying to backtrack whatever landmine he ate shit over. Steve’s seething on the edge of the mattress, so far away he might as well be in Asia. So close Billy can map the constellations between his shoulder blades. “Come here,” Billy says softly.

Steve shakes his head. 

“Steve.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know,” Billy pinches the butt between his teeth. “Come here anyway.”

One moment yawns into the next and then Steve’s toes follow each other back onto the mattress. He tucks under the sheets, eyes tacked to the ceiling. 

“What,” Steve says. Taught and fragile. Bitchy.

Billy chokes on a swell of something. Swallows it down. “You don’t wanna cuddle?” He asks, exactly how Steve always does. Batting his eyelashes where he knows Harrington can see. 

But Steve won’t budge. He crosses his arms. “Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it.”

And Billy. 

He’s a pro at flipping the script. At hiding in plain sight. He’s been pretending to want this and nothing more if it means he’ll get Steve. A couple nights a week fucking in a bed he never sleeps in, watching every flash of desperate pleasure on Harrington’s face because there’s no chance he’ll run into the weight of anything when he’s caught in orgasm land. 

Billy doesn’t say the only time he feels good is when Steve comes. Doesn’t own up to the way it gets him through the swell of night, the memory of being so close to someone who’s good because it’s his nature. 

Steve never has to try. He’s perfect.

And Billy isn’t ready to admit anything. That he recognizes it. Feels Steve’s brilliance like a twisting knife in the back; Tell me what you want–

Billy clears his throat. “Do you want me to leave?”

The possibility makes him nauseous. Steve takes the cigarette that’s handed to him, perfect plush lips closing around the butt of the thing.

“Tell me, baby. I’ll go right now. You’ll never have to see me again–”

“God, you’re a dumbass, too, you know that?” Steve hands the cigarette over, jaw tense. “If I wanted you gone I would’ve kicked you out forever ago.”

“You. You mean tonight, or–”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him softly. “Months before that. Before I fell in love with you.”

Billy chews on their cigarette and watches Steve in between puffs. The way his lashes flutter when he’s trying not to give the side eye. 

Billy feels haunted. By everything. His future. The way Steve’s so free with his words and his truth, tossing them at Billy like red roses and rotting tomatoes. Steve says he loves him, and Billy’s heard it before. Steve’s sentiment gets lost in the roiling anger that makes Billy who he is. 

But tonight, it’s silenced.

Steve’s I love you’s have that effect on him. Cutting all the noise from the sky as his attention drapes over Billy like the lid of a coffin. Like sunlight, too. 

Daylight.

Billy turns to face him, his wrist cracking under the weight of his head. “Do you want me to gaze at you more?” He asks.  

Steve chews on a mouthful of smoke and then blows it at the ceiling until it looks like a cloud.

A bunny or an anvil. Something.

“I could,” Billy says. “You’ve got everything that grabs my attention, you know?”

“What? Money and cars and–”

“Yeah, but. It’s not only that shit, I was. I was kidding.”

Steve blinks. “You were kidding?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Steve says, as if tasting the caramel drop word on his tongue. He shifts on the mattress, glancing over and away again. Teasing. “Alright. What else about me grabs your attention?”

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? Itemized list style?”

Steve’s demeanor falls flat again. A punctured balloon trickling from the sky. “Never mind,” He says, “Forget it. You obviously don’t feel the same about me as I do about you–”

“You make me laugh, okay?” Billy spits. 

He swallows thickly. Fiddles with the lip of the sheets. His words burn like acid. He’s cut to the bone. 

“I like the way you drum on your knee when there’s a song you dig. You have passions. You read, but you’re not very good at it. You help me study even though you mispronounce everything. You’re kind.”

And suddenly, Steve’s looking at him. Through him, too, past every swirling atom, toggling layers of bullshit and titanium walls meant to keep everyone out.

But under the cosmic starfall of Steve’s gaze and his attention and his love–

Billy’s walls never stood a chance.

“I like you,” Billy grits. 

There. 

He said it. He told the truth and now Harrington can out a lid on those eyes and stop looking at Billy like he ran over the family dog–

“You mean it?” Steve asks.

As if Billy’s saying something else. Like he’s admitting to a crime, or accepting a ticket to go anywhere in the universe.

Billy frowns, not understanding. “I guess so.”

Steve watches him for another endless, yawning moment. “Prove it.” He says, and finishes the cigarette.

–

It’s kind of how Max was, in that weird space between Billy’s first I’m Sorry and where they are now. 

Billy had to work for it because Billy has to work for everything. It’s like purgatory. Paying out of pocket for all the shit he’s done wrong in his life. 

Steve says, “prove it,” and Billy doesn’t really believe him at first. 

They aren’t together. Billy isn’t his fucking girlfriend, and Steve’s old enough that he’s supposed to have stopped wishing for grand gestures. 

Doesn’t he know that shit isn’t real? That husbands get their wives flowers because they got caught fucking their secretaries, and boyfriends only tuck fuzzy animals into their girlfriends arms to apologize for getting drunk and covering her in bruises?

But the more Billy turns it over in his hands, the more he realizes he should’ve seen this coming.

Steve’s got a pension for anything sappy and romantic. 

He goes hog wild for John Huges and sets money aside for February 15th, when all the Valentine’s candy is on sale. He sings the Ronettes at the top of his lungs when Billy’s pissed off, wiggling his hips and begging Billy to be his little baby. 

Steve pretends not to trace love hearts on storefront windows. He ignores thoughts of dinner reservations and avoids all conversation of expensive springtime bouquets until someone asks his opinion, and suddenly Steve’s a florist. 

Last year he even helped Max and her Nerdy friends plan a romantic double date night, complaining all the while even though he made Billy hide with him in the back room so they could spy–

And.

It hits Billy like a freight train.

“No,” Billy tells himself. He shakes his head, curls catching obnoxiously on the pillow beneath him. “No way–”

He’s not asking the Nerd Squad for help/

He’d never hear the end of it. They’d roast him alive and it would cost him every cent in his California fund. Curly top would accuse him, all over again, of not being suave or good or smart enough for someone like Steve, and the rest would co-sign without ever saying a word, and–

No.

Billy isn’t going to put himself through that type of ego-death all for a pair of legs, and that’s final.

But just as he starts to doze off, dreams lapping at his toes like warm ocean water, Billy settles with the fact that he has no other choice.

It’s his ego or Steve, and if Billy doesn’t play this right he’ll never love again.

–

“He says you never gaze at him?”

Billy digs his nails into his palm. “That’s what I said.”

“Steve’s kind of confusing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I mean, it’s so weird,” Max’s shoes thump against the base of the couch, filling their empty house on Cherry lane with music. “You throw plenty of gaze at him.”

“I know, right?”

“You are gay-ze,” Max teases.

And if Billy were any less desperate, he might stick a wet thumb in her ear for that one. But he’s on his last leg. He’s tearing his curls out by the root. He’s climbing the walls, he’s–

Max frowns. “Tough crowd.”

“It was funny,” Billy tries, smile stiff and unnatural. “I was gonna laugh, but–”

“But you’re worried if you don’t do something grand and rom-com perfect Steve’ll dump you.”

Billy glares at her. “There’s nothing to dump. We aren’t dating.”

“Sure,” Max says slyly. 

She’s such a little shit. She’s the worst.

Billy bites against the urge to bully her. To pinch her arm and revert back to his old self to get what he wants out of the situation.

Max shrugs her knobby little shoulders and admits, “Steve’s not that hard to romance.”

Billy drops the act entirely. “How the fuck would you know that?”

“When he helped Lucas and Mike plan our double-date last year he gave this obnoxious speech about how girls pretend like we want diamonds and flashy declarations, but really it’s the thought that counts.”

But. “Steve’s not a girl,” Billy thunks his head on the back of the couch, exhausted.

This is bullshit.

This is so difficult–

“It’s not like you could afford to do anything obnoxious even if you wanted to,” Max tells him. 

And Billy gets that it’s meant to be reassuring.

Steve was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Anything he wants he can get for himself, including expensive bouquets and five-star dinners. Hell, he could get himself off, too. Doesn’t need Billy for anything. Not really. 

But that’s half the trouble.

If Billy can’t live up to the Valentine's Steve can plan for himself, he doesn’t know why he’s trying. 

Why he’s losing sleep, sick to his stomach over the thought that this might be it.

“Stop spiraling,” Max sits on the coffee table in front of him, knocking their toes together until Billy pins her with a heat-less glare. “When you imagine a perfect day with Steve–”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why? Max demands, “Because it involves a lot of open mouthed kisses?”

“Just tell me what you think he would like.”

“A handjob, probably.”

Billy sits ramrod straight. “Max, let’s watch the mouth.”

“Don’t take it out on me. I’m pretty sure that’s what every guy wants.”

“Steve’s not every guy, he’s. He’s fucking perfect and he was born in a castle and he’s always had anything he’s ever wanted and I’m a piece of shit–” 

“Billy, you’re fine,” Max tells him. Because, of course, she sees right through Billy’s vitriol.

He’s made of glass.

He’s a window. A crystal slipper, plummeting to its brain-shattered death.

Max knocks their toes together again. “Even if you served him a burnt pot of macaroni on a dirty plate, tucked over a sticky dining room table, he’d love it.”

“Why,” Billy snaps, “Because it’s me.”

“Because it’s you,” She says, eyes blue and earnest. “Now, walk me through your perfect date.”

–

In the end, mop top and the wheeler kid think it’s sweet that Billy’s trying in the first place.

They give him his blessing.

On February 14th, a day that’s so cloud-covered and rain drenched that Billy almost wants to call the whole parade off and stay in bed until the sun rises red and new, Steve’s dorks manage to get him out of the house.

His parents are in Rome, because.

Of course they’re in Rome. The city of love.

And Billy’s been shaking hard enough to cause an Earthquake since the second he got into the shower this morning, but Max smiles and says, “Tonight, Hawkins is the most romantic place in the world.”

So Billy chooses hope.

They light candles. They decorate. Billy orders heart-shaped pizza because he’d probably give them food poisoning if he tried to cook, and suddenly it’s 5:00.

The dorks clear out.

When the front door opens, Steve runs headfirst into a hallway covered in wilting daisy petals. He’s immediately tangled in the strings of four stubborn Get Well balloons because Max tried her best.

He drops his shopping bags when he sees the candles.

He almost brains it on the stairs, because Billy’s waiting in a suit, collar uncomfortably tight around the knob of his throat.

“Billy–” He says, with tears in his eyes.

But Billy’s gotta spit it out, before the words choke him to death. He takes the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom.

“Steve,” He says, kind of breathless. “I don’t just like you. I love you, and. Max helped me plan this because I’m an idiot. And the balloons are all wrong and I didn’t cook you anything, not even macaroni, but I love you, and--”

“It’s perfect,” Steve tells him.

And Billy doesn’t want to brag, but.

He proves it. Seals the deal with a kiss.

#harringrove #valentines day #and I did get lazy at the end! #sorry!

[thelikesoffinn]

Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable.

This boy needed help. He needed someone to show him that life was not just pain and suffering, that there was more once you break through years of abuse.

And I'm not talking as a sappy fan here, but as a licensed social worker.

Without a doubt, this bitch would have been my favourite client. He already IS my favourite client.

Now, would it be hard to work with him?

Fuck yeah.

He would Rebel against anything I say, he would try to intimidate me and keep me far away, he would most definitely be rude as fuck and make fun of most things that leave my mouth. And he would flip his shit hard whenever I touch any subject he doesn't want to talk about.

On bad days, days where he was beaten and abused again, he would be an absolute menace. He would probably throw chairs and tables around, start fist fights with the other kids in my group and just be a proper pain in my arse.

So yes, Billy hargrove would be difficult. Especially in the beginning.

But that's what abused kids do.

They want you to stay the fuck away from them. Because all they know is pain. They've been hurt so much, that they can't believe it's not normal. That not every one is out to hurt them. Because people don't care for them. They don't care about them.

Social workers are "in it for the money" anyway. They don't give a shit, much less about them. Much less about kids like Billy.

Good things don't happen to them.

Good people don't just stumble into their lives.

Because nothing good ever does.

But you know what kids like Billy also do? What I've seen so many times at my job, working with troubled youths?

I've seen kids like Billy Hargrove beam at compliments. At genuine compliments, compliments that aren't used to get them to do something. They dead arse break a grin so wide it blinds you, despite not wanting to.

I've seen them get glassy eyes when you welcome them and tell them you're happy to see them around. Because they feel appreciated, like them being there is a good thing.

I've seen them slowly opening up, once they realise that I'm not going anywhere and that I, in fact, actually care about their well being.

I've seen them go all soft and huggy because they crave warmth and kindness. They crave what they never get at home.

I've seen kids have fun, fun that they've never been allowed to have at home. They are the older siblings, the only providers. They carry responsibilities the shouldn't have to carry at home. But with my colleagues and I, they don't. They can be themselves and have fun. Being silly, being young and being genuinely happy because they are allowed to be.

Just imagine Billy breaking an involuntary grin because you tell him how neat his camaro looks, all clean and shiny today.

Imagine him getting flustered when you tell him how nice it is to have him back with the group while you pass along some sweets or whatever.

Respect and responsibility? My arse. Everyone get the waterballoons, we'll have a fight. And we all know Billy would hold back at first, pretend it's stupid, before ambition hits and the kid tries to be the last dry one standing. he's laughing with the other kids, dripping wet by the end of it. And he enjoys it massively.

How he suddenly allows other people to pat his back, hug him or bump his hips. How he actually starts liking it, touch starved as the boy likely is.

Now imagine Billy Hargroves face once he realises that he doesn't have to scare people away because whatever his dad taught him was bullshit. That he really doesn't need to repeat any of the homophobic or racist slurs Neil threw around ever again because he doesn't believe them anyway.

So yes, Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable. He was not. He was a boy that needed work, definitely, but he was far FAR from being a lost cause.

Billy was just a poor eighteen year old boy that needed warmth and softness. That needed a chance to learn that people cared, truly cared, about him like no one in fucking Hawkins ever did. Not his father, not Susan, not Max.

Billy needed one person who understood him, cared for him and taught him that life was more than pain and suffering.

And its fucking bullshit that he never got to meet that person because killing him was easier.

No, he was not irredeemable and everyone who says he was just chooses the easy road. Because seeing and accepting layers is so much harder than saying he's a piece of shit, am I right?

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy stranger things #billy needs a hug #billy needs help #get my boy a social worker #fuck neil hargrove #billy x platonic!reader #billy hargrove appreciation #justice for billy hargrove #billy x reader #last one is just for the attention #a penny for my thoughts #billy hargrove cuddles #we love our boy

[xtrafluffyteddy]

I think I’m in love

Paring: Billy Hargrove x reader

Mentions: cursing, pats abuse, threats, happy ending

This is after Billy moves in but before Steve and Eddie move in

This is a little part of the home for wayward souls series

When Billy had woken up to shouting he expected to see you tearing a door to door salesman a new one not his piece of shit father.

“I don’t give two shits about respecting you Neil get the fuck off my property now.” You growled keeping Neil from coming inside

“Well well well if it isn’t my good for nothing piece of shit son running away just like his whore of a mother did” Neil’s spits venomously towards Billy who’s frozen at the sight of the man who haunts his nightmares

“HOW DARE YOU” you shove a finger into Neil’s chest taking him by surprise “come onto my property, wake me up from a nice dream, break my fucking door! And still think you can get away with threatening your son” your fuming at this point face red fists bunched up at your sides not wanting to resort to violence

“Just because my no good son is fucking a whore like you doesn’t mean you have to defend him” Neil spits in your face quite literally the scent of alcohol on his breath.

“Take it back.” You warn chest heaving as you fight the urge to get violent disgusted at the way he talks about you as well as Billy “you got 5 seconds to take back what you said and get the fuck off my property before it gets ugly.” You snarl getting in his face as you wipe off the spit

“Or what-“ before he can even finish his sentence you have him on the ground beating the absolute piss outta him “YOU LIKE BEATING ON YOUR SON! HUH?!? MAKES YOU FEEL REAL BIG DOESNT IT! NO WONDER YOUR WIFE LEFT YOU DISTGUSTING” you break his nose “PIECE OF” you grab him by his shirt Billy still frozen at the sight of you of all people standing up to some like Neil “SHIT” with one final blow you knock out a couple of teeth “if I see you sniffin around here again or hear about you layin hands on Max or Billy I’ll kill you point blank fucking period now get out of my fucking sight” you kick him hard in the stomach “have a blessed day mr.Hargrove” you say sickeningly sweet before shoving him out onto your sidewalk leaving him in a heap and slamming the door.

You take a deep breath before turning to Billy who was staring at you with wonder and adoration “I’m sorry Billy I didn’t want you to have to deal with that or see me like that” you scratch the back of your neck nervously “I-“ before you can continue Billy is already pulling you into a tight hug hot tears rolling down his cheeks “thank you” you gently squeeze him petting his back gently “anytime darlin” you coo softly to him like he’s a skittish animal, remembering your vow of always protecting the ones you care for “he can’t hurt you not when I’m around”.

Billy was sure he had begun falling in love with you right then and there.

#billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove my beloved

[lazybakerart]

1/2 dude, listened to silver springs by fleetwood mac and feel like i've been gutted like a FISH cos it's such a harringrove song. tell me these lines don't make you wanna fall to your knees and WEEP: "Don't say that she's pretty/ And did you say that she loved you? Baby, I don't want to know" // & "Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could have loved you But you would not let me"?? imagining a school reunion au where steve & billy meet again after like 10 years & realise

2/2 they're still eachother's longest relationship cos they never stopped loving the other. it just feels like the song could be from either of their perspectives & that makes me feel insane. old insecurities arose which made billy believe steve was still in love with nancy&steve not being able to handle being shut out all the time when he has so much love to give but billy not allowing him to love him?! anyway! happy endings only &they get back together &bang over a desk in an empty classroom

i'm here for every single reunion au. billy leaves town after prom night and 20 years later is coincidentally back in town for the reunion when neil dies and billy has to deal with his Shit. steve hearing billy is back and not expecting to see him at the reunion but there he is! steve is pissed at him and billy is on a tight-wire of emotions like he's seventeen again and they both get smashed and end up angrily fucking in the empty locker room after billy picks the lock. emotions are everywhere. steve's a divorcé. billy's a wreck. 20 years of pent up Feelings explode.

#replies #harringrove #billy hargrove #my stories #im sorry this took me a bit to reply to! i was offline for a chunk of time T__T!! #but YES i am fully with you on this anon #ahhhh ive always wanted to write a reunion fic akdsjhdsf

[depravity-n-savagery]

I'm so so sorry to bother you but... do you do requests? If not is alright pls I'm so sorry

But if you do... could maybe do a reverse fic? Your last one about billy taking care of sick reader melted my heart and I just wanted to see how it would play if the bad boy got sick and us took care of him

Again, sorry to bother you, hope you have a good day

Luckily, I have a soft spot for nursing people back to health ♡

Taking Care Of Billy While He's Sick Headcanons ♡

18+ MINORS DNI ♡ I just can't help myself 🤣 like, the tiniest bit smutty. 95% comfort and care ♡

♡ - Like the stubborn boy that he is, he doesn't listen to your scolding advice and winds up getting sick. He'll try to hide it from you at first. He's used to having to deal with these things alone. Plus, he's not used to being so openly vulnerable. But you pop up at his place while Neil is gone to check on him, and it's clear how sick he is the second you look at him.

♡ - You have him pack a bag and tell him (not asking, telling) that he's staying at your house until he feels better. You're aware of what goes on with Neil, and you know he won't get the proper care if he's left to deal with his father. He gives you shit, but he's actually happy to be away from there for a few days.

♡ - For the first day, it's a lot of back and forth. He keeps trying to prove that he's not that sick and he can still do things on his own. He tries to force himself to wash the dishes, even though he's obviously too tired to stand up for that long. Tries to force himself to go through his usual daily workout routine, but can only get through six push-ups before he collapses onto your carpet. Pissed at himself and sniffling. You lead him back into your bed every time, comforting him and begging him to let you take care of him. By then he's worn himself out so much, he has no choice but to give in and accept it.

♡ - The second phase was kind of amusing to you. When his macho chest-puffing and usual confidence is stripped away, he allows himself to be cared for. He enjoys it more than he thought he would. Having you fawn over him, feed him and cater to him. It scares him as much as it comforts him, because he's used to having these things ripped away from him. So he clings to you.

"Come back to bed, baby. It's too cold. I need you."

"I don't need anymore medicine right now. I just need you to come here. Watch this movie with me."

"Sit down, babe. You're gonna tire yourself out doing all that. I need you to be the healthy one here."

I need you.

You didn't bring it up, but you noticed how much he'd say it every time you did something for him. You tried to reassure him that you weren't going anywhere.

♡ - Feeling like he has to repay you in some way ; he tries to take care of you in one of the few ways he knows he never disappoints you. Physically. He doesn't want to get you sick, so he knows he can't kiss you. But he'll try to massage you when you lay with him. Working his hand up between your thighs until he's.... rudely interrupted by a harsh fit of coughing. You snap back into nurse-mode, grabbing the cough syrup while he feels completely useless. You notice it. Poor Billy looks like he wants to throw himself out the window, so you let him try again. Being the little spoon while he fucks you slowly and passionately, careful not to get too worked up. When he feels your third orgasm, he allows himself to finally sleep with a prideful grin on his face.

♡ - As he starts to feel better, he gets a little awkward. This time with you was a pleasant bubble and he's not quite ready for it to pop. You two were always close, but this brought you closer than you've ever been before. He almost shuts you out. Kind of preparing himself for the loss before it can happen. Luckily, you're used to his moods and you sit down with him.

"Hey.. I just want you to know, this doesn't have to end just because you're feeling better."

He huffs, not looking you in the eyes. "The hell are you on about."

You continue, unphased by his attitude. "I love you, Billy. I'm still gonna love you whenever you walk out that door."

"...Do you mean it?"

The question tugs at your heartstrings, setting you in motion before you could think. You kiss him. Soft and sweet, only realizing your mistake when you pull away. "Shit!"

His famous smirk is back to it's former glory, pulling you back for more. "Fuck it. My girl, my germs. We'll get over it."

♡ A/N: Haha, I think I might've had more fun writing this one than the original one 😅🤣💞 Hope you like it too!

Masterlist, Ao3 ☆

#stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove headcanon

[lovebillyhargrove]

Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 7

Chapter 8/?

Billy knows he's not the luckiest guy in the world when it comes to family matters. However, he's also aware that people have it worse, so he's not complaining.

Especially, when once in a million of years the sun shines down on him,

and when it does, Billy truly appreciates it. Turns out, having Susan's relatives living in a nearby town can be a blessing

Cause guess what

Neil and Susan are going to visit Aunt Shirley and Uncle Dean this weekend, with Max and

Drum roll

They are not taking Billy on this little family trip because Neil doesn't want to undergo the shame of his "imbecile of a son" interacting with his wife's respectable relatives again. Seriously, does dad really think he's punishing Billy like that, does he believe it is going to make him feel bad?

Cause Billy would take such punishment any day. Gladly.

He can't believe his luck. He is willing to behave in a more imbecilic way in the future if it gets him free passes out of family situations like that.

Max is upset, heheehe, of course she is, she'd rather stay here and hang out with her friends from that stupid AV club. On Thursday evening Billy overhears her asking Susan, voice full of bitter spite

"Why do I have to come? Why isn't Billy coming?"

What now? He wants to strangle her. If Neil and Susan change their minds and decide to drag Billy along, he'll definitely commit a crime, he can't be held responsible for his actions. Just shut up, Max, it's not your fucking business why he's not coming.

"It was dad's decision."

Max snaps

"His dad's, he's not my dad! Don't say it like he's our dad!"

Susan tells her to be quiet and "we talked about it, honey."

Susan is deranged if she still believes Max is willingly going to call Neil "dad".

Billy can't help but smile gleefully at his stepsister and give her a little wave when he sees her stomping to her room.

Max flips him off and slams the door.

Wait, it's getting better. Neil, Susan and the little rat are leaving on Friday evening and coming back late on Sunday. Dear parents and beloved sister are gonna be away for two whole fucking days. Uncle Dean wants to show them the farm which is, apparently, huge, and they are also gonna visit Susan's 100-year-old nana or something.

Billy's so happy, he's afraid of jinxing his luck. It happens so seldom, when he gets the house all to himself. When just the two of them - his dad and he - lived in pre-Mayfield era, Billy got plenty of time alone at home, and he couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand the emptiness, the silence. He used to go to Nick or his other buddies, stay out late on the beach or the streets. He never invited any of his friends over because Neil never welcomed it.

When the Mayfield ladies moved in, instead of feeling better cause he was never alone at home anymore, Billy hated the intruders with all the hatred his teenage heart could summon.

So hell to the fucking yes, he's getting a breath of freedom this weekend. Billy does have work on Saturday and Sunday, but he can do whatever the fuck he wants to on Friday and Saturday evenings.

After he says "Have a great trip!" and closes the door at 5 pm on Friday

He takes the weights out to the living room, turns on the tv, and the music, opens the windows - it's going to be chilly but he wants to smoke inside, and cracks a can of beer open after a hard-working day at school.

Heaven.

The entire weekend is fucking his.

He's home absolutely alone.

He spends the whole Friday evening like that, working out, watching car programs on tv, making something quick to eat, smoking, drinking beer when he feels like it. At some point he takes out a porn video tape hidden in his suitcase that's in his closet, puts it in the VCR in the living room and ends up jerking off to porn multiple times till his balls run dry, right on the family couch.

He then rolls a joint and smokes it sitting in his car blasting the speakers at midnight.

When Billy goes to bed at around 1.30 am, his head is blissfully empty.

On Saturday he gets up late, ignores the mess he's left in the kitchen and living room, - he's gonna have plenty of time to clean up tomorrow morning, - has breakfast watching MTV on the couch and drives to work. Old Joe makes a note of Billy's good mood and invites him to share lunch together in his little office in the garage. The old man is okay, knows a lot about cars. Been in this business his whole life. Billy thinks he misses his son who got married and moved to Indianapolis, he sure likes talking about him. Mr. Daley also seems to like Billy. What's there not to like? Billy's work ethic is excellent. He's never late, he's smart, quick and knows what he's doing.

When he gets home at four in the afternoon, he takes a long shower, throws a sandwich together, rewinds the porn tape he's left in the VCR and goes to his room to look for another one.

Billy then changes his mind, digs into his school bag and finds a copybook with Vicky's number scribbled on it.

***

On Monday, through quiet whispers, gossip, like spiderwebs, is spreading all over Hawkins High.

Rumor has it, Hargrove and Vicky have fucked.

Rumor has it, Vicky's in love with him. She's walking around the school with her girlfriends, having private conversations, blushing slightly and exchanging eloquent glances

Her eyes always on the search for Billy.

Vicky's sitting in classes with a dreamy look on her face

Languidly examining Billy's profile while he's busy writing stuff down from the blackboard.

Judging from the way she's staring at him, it's probably true.

She's in love.

Hargrove, on the other hand, seems his usual self, only much calmer. Sex with Vicky did him good.

During lunch break he's sucking on a straw of the juice-box and listening to Tina talking about the absolute must-be-there of a party she's having this Friday night for Halloween.

"I hope everyone has figured out their costumes!"

Vicky is watching Billy's lips and tongue play with the straw.

She's not the only one whose eyes are following the movements of Billy's pretty mouth

Apart from some other girls, Harrington who is sitting two tables over and seems to be all lovey-dovey with his girlfriend -

what was it? A nice dinner with the princess's family followed by a timid and unskilled blowjob up in her room at the weekend? -

shoots an occasional glance at Billy, now and again

Harrington did have a quite pleasant Friday dinner, thank you very much, but not at Nancy's, although Mrs. Wheeler wouldn't have minded. No, he spent the whole evening with his parents, miraculously dodging all the questions about his future that he didn't and still doesn't have answers for. Well, mom and dad drank wine and were in good spirits, Dad was mostly preaching the wisdom, so Steve was just stuffing his belly.

On Saturday morning while Steve was still in bed, parents went to Indianapolis for a couple of days to visit mom's sister. Harrington drove to Tommy's place and they hung out in his room dishing about the people they know.

Steve told his mom and dad he didn't want to go to Indianapolis cause he had plans to study, and he indeed opened some school books. For a couple of hours. He also had a very nice Sunday with Nancy. They went to a diner, and spent the night at his place, and yes, they had sex which started with a timid blowjob which lasted a minute, and led to missionary. Steve has been meaning to spice up their sex life a bit, but he feels it's not the right time now with everything Nance has been going through, so he's happy with whatever he's given.

Harrington's eyes fall on Billy's tongue again -

the hell he's doing with that straw? -

and he's losing the trail of their conversation with Tommy.

All of a sudden there's an uneasy feeling in Steve's inside, simmering, lurking. It feels like calm before the storm. He can't explain it. The sex was good and tender, although Nancy seemed a bit distant but when hasn't she lately?

Maybe it's asshole Hargrove who's been minding his business and it is strange? Steve's probably overthinking things that might have actually just settled down. It's quite likely their stupid rivalry with Hargrove has somehow dissolved. He's got a girlfriend now - if Vicky has been honoured which is still a big question, - his own circle of buddies to hang out with, he's got a job, he's got off Steve's back.

Feels strange.

Hargrove was the one who fixed Andy's yellow camaro. The guy must be good with his hands, huh. Steve's never fixed anything. Has had everything done for him. Never worked a day in his entire life.

Speaking of cars, his beamer needs an oil change, and just uh .. a check up. Just a thought, for later.

As for their relationship with Nancy, Steve will keep on trying to bring it back to the way it was.

Calm before the storm? Nah, it's most definitely bullshit.

He shrugs the feeling off, hugs his girlfriend tighter and resumes listening to Tommy rambling about him wanting to dress as the Karate Kid for the upcoming party.

***

Tina wasn't lying when she told everyone the party is going to be massive. The trees on the front lawn and the house are toilet papered, cars are parked haphazardly near the house and down the street, there's Steve's BMW, Tommy's Ford, Andy's and Billy's camaros .. Drunk up to various degrees teenagers are everywhere, outside and inside, talking, dancing, shouting, making out, drinking some more. Hawkins High students went wild with costumes, and with alcohol. There's a huge bowl of punch which Roy still needs to come up with a name for, endless beer and vodka bottles and a keg.

"Shout at the devil" by Mötley Crüe is ripping the night up. The party in in full swing. Tina welcomes everyone dressed in Madonna's "Like a virgin" costume. The outside crowd is counting

" .. forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two !!"

All are cheering and Billy is brought down from the keg, beer foam flowing out of his mouth and down his well-defined pecs and abs. He's dressed as a .. Terminator? Black leather jacket, black fingerless gloves. Chest out for everyone to see and drool over, help yourselves.

The crowd is going insane

"Yeah! Fifty-two!"

Tommy - in a Cobra Kai Dojo costume - is sticking a lit cigarette in Hargrove's mouth

"We got ourselves a new keg king, everybody!"

Billy's holding a cigarette with trembling fingers, taking a shaky drag, yelling

"That's how you do it, Hawkins! That's how you do it!"

He is so wasted, god please help him.

People start chanting

"Bil-ly! Bil-ly! Bil-ly!"

Hagan is putting his arm around his shoulder and they get inside the house. The place is trashed. Toilet paper gets in Billy's face and he wants to .. what, lick it?? It's so soft .. He's fucking plastered.

Hargrove spots King Steve leaning on a wall with his prissy princess and without giving it a second thought starts walking towards him, through the crowd, climbing over the couch, which he doesn't really register cause his legs seem to move on their own, and

when he comes face to face with the King

Harrington takes his sunglasses off, like .. like he doesn't want to hide from Billy's intense stare

Why? What is this smoldering animosity between them?

Tommy's again materializing by Billy's side

"We got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington! Fifty-two!"

Mike, who happens to stand nearby, cuts in although no-one asked for this dude's opinion

"Yeah. Eat it, Harrington!"

Steve just stares back at Hargrove, holds the gaze

Is Hargrove back at it again? Just when Steve thought that the guy found something better to do.

Nancy who was standing by Steve's side, suddenly walks away, and Harrington has to go

"Yeah, whatever, Tommy. Not now."

I've got something else going on here.

Nancy walks into the kitchen and curiously smells the red liquid in a huge bowl

"What's in this?"

Roy who's been hanging around the bowl practically the whole evening provides the necessary information

"Pure fuel, pure fuel! Whoo!!"

Burps loudly and goes on pumping more fuel into his system. He's totally going to end up puking all over the kitchen

Nancy fills a plastic cup with punch and takes a big sip. When Steve catches up with her, she's already drunk half the cup

"Hey .. Who, whoa, take it easy, Nance? Take it easy!""

"We're just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn't that the deal?"

***

Steve knows he dragged her to this party, she didn't want to go. Nothing new.

Today at school Nancy thought that she had seen Barb in the library. It wasn't Barb, of course, but the silhouette and the hair colour reminded Nancy of her missing friend.

"Steve, I can't keep doing this." She told him behind the closed door of a small library room

"Doing what?"

"Pretending like everything is okay."

"What are you talking about?"

"Barbara. It's like everyone forgot. It's like no-one cares. Did you hear her parents want to hire a private detective and they'll have to sell their house to scrape the money?"

"Their house ..? How much does this detective actually cost? Are they sure it's not a scam?"

"I .. I don't know about the money, but they are going to spend the rest of their lives looking for her. It's destroying them."

"Nance, I know it's terrible. But .. I don't understand what we can do about it."

Nancy looked as though she wanted to tell Steve something but stopped herself midway. It wasn't the first time when Steve got the feeling that she was hiding something from him.

She fell quiet and Steve decided to use the same strategy - distraction.

"Hey, it's hard but .. but let's just go to Tina's stupid party .. wear our stupid costumes that we've been working on for a stupid amount of time and just pretend that we're stupid teenagers, okay? Can we just do that, just for tonight?"

"Okay." Nancy sure sounded super excited about it.

"Come here." Steve pulled her into a hug.

Nancy sighed and laid her head on her boyfriend's shoulder.

***

Steve remembers their conversation now, it happened about eight hours ago and backfired pretty quickly. Looks like Nancy took his words as a guide to act exactly like Steve said but multiplied it by a hundred.

Why can't things just be easy?

The thing is, Nance has already had enough. The girl isn't experienced enough when it comes to alcohol, and a couple of bottles of beer she had earlier have done their job. Still, she willfully fills her cup with punch again.

"No, no no, Nance!"

"Get off!"

"No, you've had enough, okay?"

"Screw you!"

"Nance, I'm serious. Stop. Hey, hey .. stop. No, I'm serious! Put it down!" Steve's trying to snatch the cup from his drunk girlfriend's hands

"No."

"Nance, put it down!"

"Steve, stop!"

He doesn't stop because what the hell? It's enough! Nancy is not letting go of her drink, but he's still trying to grab it. They look like kids. It's hands moving chaotically and

Oh shit, one wrong movement, and she's spilling the blood red punch all over herself, all over the white dress

People around them gasp

"What the hell?" Of course, it's Steve's fault.

Everything is his fault, according to Ms. Wheeler.

"Nance, I'm sorry."

Nancy probably wants to wash the stain off, so she goes to the bathroom, and Steve's trotting behind her. Because that's what a good boyfriend does, right? She opens the tap and starts rubbing the stain with a wet cloth but it's useless

"That's not coming off, Nance." Steve just wants her to stop being so stubborn, what has he done, where's his mistake?

"It's coming."

"Come on. Let me just take you home, okay?"

It's not gonna come off, the dress it ruined.

"Let me take you home, Nance."

His girlfriend looks at him eyes full of anger, slurring the words

"You wanted this."

What does she mean? He only wanted them to have a nice time together, jesus, is that so awful?

"No, I didn't want this. I told you to stop drinking."

"Bullshit. It's bullshit."

Steve doesn't like the way Nancy's saying the word. It .. it doesn't make sense

"No, it's not bullshit. Okay? It's not bullshit."

"What? You're pretending like everything is okay. Like my friend didn't disappear in your backyard."

Pretending? .. Steve's not ..

"Pretending like we're partying. Like we didn't kill Barb."

"We .. what? I didn't kill anybody. Did you kill her?"

"Not with our hands, Steve."

"Whoa whoa hold on, Nance. I didn't kill her. You didn't kill her."

"Oh yeah? We shouldn't have left her alone there, near your .. pool."

"Nance, she wasn't even my friend! You brought her there!"

"Are you saying I killed her? It's all my fault?"

"Nance, it's nobody's fault. Also, why shouldn't we have left her alone? Were we supposed to babysit her the whole evening? How did we know something like this was going to happen?"

"I don't know, Steve! But she's gone now, and it's all bullshit, all of it, I'm so sick of pretending!"

The way she's looking at Steve, there's no love. There's only frustration and guilt.

"I told her to go home, so that I could spend the night with you!"

"Nance .. you didn't know .."

"It's all bullshit. Let's just party, let's pretend .. pretending like we're in love and we're partying."

Wait, what?

"Like we're in love?" Steve can feel his own voice breaking

"We're partying. Party. Let's party."

Maybe he misheard her, maybe she didn't mean it.

"Like we're .. you don't love me?"

"It's bullshit." Nancy turns off the water. The dress is definitely ruined. The evening is ruined.

She spins around and walks out of the bathroom, Steve is standing near the sink

"Nance! Nance wait!"

He knows that he has to follow her again, she's drunk and he has to take her home, and he will, he just needs to .. needs a moment to pull himself together.

He only wanted to have a good time.

It's all bullshit, apparently. He is bullshit. Their love is bullshit.

Is it for real?

Steve's alone in the bathroom.

He's looking at himself in the mirror.

Steve didn't kill anyone. He invited Nancy that night in June cause he wanted to spend time with her, he wanted to sleep with her, okay? He was, and still is, in love. Jesus fucking christ, they shouldn't have left Barb alone? Who would have thought something like this was going to happen??

Why is Nancy putting the blame on them, on him ? He didn't do anything bad. Steve can understand Nancy is feeling guilty, but .. he doesn't know how to help her. It's not their fault.

Distraction as a way to make her feel better doesn't seem to be working. It has only made everything worse.

Ffffuck.

He doesn't .. he doesn't know what to do.

The door of the bathroom opens wide and an absolutely wasted Billy Hargrove stumbles inside.

His heavy gaze is landing on Steve's face, hand going up slowly, and grabbing Steve by the collar of his jacket.

Almost gently.

The fuck?

There is no force.

"Haarrringtn .. Course it's you." Billy's snickering

"Can a guy piss? Or you're gonna throw a tantrum again and start shouting this is your fucking bathroom?"

He's such an idiot. It doesn't even make sense. It's Tina's house.

Hargrove's grin is obnoxious, Steve wants to punch it off the dumb drunk face. Bet one punch is going to be enough to knock him off his feet. He is so fucking hammered. Barely standing straight, slurring every word, and his eyes are so glassy, it looks like they're fake.

"You gonna stand here and watch me piss, Harrington?"

The grip on the collar tightens, and Billy starts getting closer, but Steve shakes Billy's hand off and shoulders past him.

When their shoulders collide for a second, Steve can't help it, there's something .. the force, the strength, Hargrove's body feels like a rock, big and solid.

He walks out of the bathroom but doesn't know where to go. The word bullshit echoes in his head, and he's suddenly so tired of this freaky night.

Let's make it freakier.

Steve turns around and opens the door to the goddamn bathroom again. If he can't distract Nancy, he can try distracting himself.

Hargrove's standing near the sink, washing his hands. He's swaying slightly, turns off the tap and is about to start on his way out when Harrington pushes him back inside. Slams the door shut without turning his back.

Something sweet and deadly is spreading through his veins. He wants to shove Hargrove further, wants to make him fall, nevermind that the guy's drunk, Steve doesn't care. There it is, a glimpse of weakness, and Steve wants to probe it, how deep it's gonna go.

Hargrove seems taken aback. Confused. Steve looks at him like crazy. What does he want? He's not so sure anymore. He wants everything to be the way it was before the summer, before the fall. His heart is turned inside out at Nancy's words, and anger is mixed with pain, because what the fuck?? Why is it his fault anyway? He didn't do anything bad, and now he's shit? He runs after her like a fool in love, but according to her it's bullshit?

And there's Hargrove, with his fucking basketball skills and badass car and he's so tough, so cool, so fucking macho, swaying his ass in those jeans in the school hallways, hanging out with Steve's friends and stealing his keg king title. Getting on Harrington's nerves by simply existing.

It can all go to hell, for all Steve cares. If it's bullshit, let it all blow up.

Billy is not the only one who's unhinged. Whatever it's called. Steve's hurting inside. She doesn't love him? Why, why not? What has he done wrong?

Both Hargrove and Harrington are staring at each other with wide open eyes. The trajectory is short and simple, eyes - lips, lips - eyes. Hargrove's eyelashes are too long, too thick, too fucking thick, it's annoying. Steve can hear them rustling.

He feels Billy's hot breath somewhere near his mouth, it smells like beer and cigarettes and a hint of mint gum. These smells are mixed with a barely audible scent of sweat coming off Hargrove's body and also some delicious perfume .. Steve knows this smell, he knows its name, he's sampled it in perfume stores

He notices that Billy's eyes are becoming predatory and wild. Unpredictable.

However, is it so hard to predict what's gonna happen if they stare at each other's lips like that?

Their lips are so close. A flash of a second, and it's Billy who goes for it

Stopping only an inch away. What the fuck, he's not gonna do it? Steve sees that Hargrove is slipping away from this, so he grabs Billy by the back of the neck, his grip feels like it's made of iron, fingers digging in that messy mullet. He pulls. He has to pull because Hargrove's balking like a stubborn donkey.

Fuck no, you're not getting away from me.

Steve locks their mouths together. Hargrove's lips are soft and .. and unexpectedly tender.

The kiss - cause that's what it is, right? - feels fucking weird. It's not gross, it's just weird but the kind of weird you wanna explore. They are looking into each other's eyes, Hargrove is narrowing his stare at Steve even more, like he's trying to figure out his game and then he pushes him away muttering a quiet

"The fuck .."

But the strength is not there really, so Steve pulls him back and kisses him again

Maybe I like it

Flashing lights at the back of his mind

He feels hot all over, feverish. It must be the alcohol, it must be the pain of Nancy's words still ringing in his head

Bullshit bullshit you are bullshit what we have is bullshit your love is bullshit

This time, Steve's lips stay on Billy's a couple of seconds longer, and when a low mmmm leaves his throat, he slides his tongue between Hargrove's lips. Billy is not making it easy, cause he attempts to shove Steve away again, but it's weak, and Harrington is holding him tighter, one hand still gripping the back of his head, the other slithering around Billy's waist. It's like Hargrove surrenders, opens his mouth more, but the moment his own tongue touches Harrington's,

Steve is pulling away as if he touched something hot, as if he got burnt.

Afraid to get burnt more.

Enough.

Everything is a rollercoaster together with a joyous and vile feeling blooming inside Steve - he now knows what Hargrove's deal is. He's cracked the Californian sun on hot wheels.

If someone, say, Tommy or .. or any other guy tried to kiss Harrington, he'd shove him hard, the hell you think you're doing? He wouldn't want it. He'd probably rinse his mouth after.

Hargrove didn't push him away. To be fair, he did, at first. But then, when Steve showed persistence? Billy kissed him back. He wanted more, didn't want to stop.

Steve knows his secret now.

There's a satisfied smile flickering on his lips.

You sure seemed to enjoy kissing a guy, Billy boy.

Steve swings the door wide and walks out, leaving Hargrove alone in the bathroom

As a matter of fact, Steve's got a drunk girlfriend here somewhere. Though it's not clear anymore if they're still together or not.

Steve goes to look for Nancy but can't find her.

He spots Tommy and Carol dancing and making out in the middle of the crowd. The party is still on and getting louder.

"Hey, Tommy, you seen Nancy?"

"Yeah, she went home."

Carol is smiling and Steve doesn't like her smile or her tone

"She's okay, Steve, she went home. She's probably in her bed already all tucked up."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Did you have a fight or something?"

"Uh .. kinda. Okay, I'm .."

"Hey man, everything alright?"

No, Tommy, fucking everything is fucked up.

"Yeah. I'm going home. You guys have fun."

***

Steve gets home after midnight, falls on the bed. His mind's on fire.

Nancy, what the fuck was that with Nancy? Are they still together? Is their whole relationship bullshit, that's what it is for her ??

Steve's wounded, Steve's hurting.

What has he done wrong?

He kissed Hargrove, that was definitely wrong.

He has him figured out now though.

There's a burning tingling sensation on his lips that won't go away

It's not gonna happen again, but deep down ..? If he's completely drunkenly honest with himself?

He liked the feeling of his lips on Billy's.

Tomorrow in the daylight his mind's gonna be set straight. Now in the darkness, Steve can secretly relish the feeling

Steve's burying his hot face in the cool of his pillow.

Is it the storm? Or it is only the first gusts of wind rising and the first raindrops falling from the sky?

#reblogging cause I did a little rewrite #after having messed up October and November #Thanksgiving and Halloween #like 🙄🙄🙄 #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic #harringrove slow burn #mean s1 steve vs mean billy

[belovedharringrove]

"wait," billy asks, confused as hell and kind of scared and sort of angry but mainly so fucking confused. "you're saying there are other universes out there?"

the man... woman... being standing next to billy in what seems to be an empty white room snorts and nods their head, giving him a look like they know exactly what's going through his mind. "there are infinite universes out there. i'm especially fond of the one where humans died in 2012. nature is especially beautiful in that one and the animals are so nice." they gush and billy decides to ignore them and not think too much about what they said because he would fall into a spiral of so there's a universe where ma didn't leave and neil's dead and we're happy and together and i didn't have to leave california? and that hurts to think about so he just ignores it, and ignores the treacherous part of his brain that says there's a universe where you and steve are together and happy and in love because that also hurts too much to think about.

"alright? so why are you telling me this?" billy sighs and goes to sit on the armchair that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. "and who are you?" he adds, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at them.

"i am... i am who i am. who i need to be." the person says and those words explain everything yet nothing at all. billy met them after he... died. at starcourt mall. the last thing he saw was max leaning over him and crying, darkness and then he was in this room and the person was there. it seemed like years had passed and also only seconds. the person had let him scream and yell and cry and mourn for what he never got to have and then, when he got tired and calmed down, they went into an explanation about all the infinite universes and here they were now.

"well, if you must know," they say, rolling their eyes like it's such a bother to have to explain "i want to show you something." they say and suddenly they have... something. in their hands. it's like a tv but small and flat and shaped almost like a notebook. they press something on the side and the things lights up and they start tapping on the screen, eyebrows furrowed and tongue sticking out slightly.

"it's a tablet. i'm using it to log into tumblr." they say as a form of explanation and billy frowns. "what's tumblr? is that some sort of ethereal thing the gods use to keep track of mortals?" he asks and the being barks out a laugh at that. "feels like it if you use it long enough but no." they say and summon another seat across from billy, leaning back to look at him straight in the eyes.

then they go into another explanation. an explanation of how, in this universe, billy's life and everything that happens in it is part of a show called 'stranger things' and they go explain what the internet and tumblr is and why they're using it right now, and they explain what fandoms are because they say that it's important he knows that, for some reason. billy wants to not believe them but his life has seemed like something a fucked up person made up so the fact that it's part of a show in this universe makes sense. it makes him laugh. he tries to ignore the being's milky white eyes looking at him with what seem to be pity and understanding.

"why are you telling me this?" he asks again, wishing for a cigarette or that he were actually dead and not in whatever hell this is.

the being rolls their eyes again and go back to tapping the tablet screen again. "the internet is vast, almost endless. and tumblr seems to have no fucking end. the stranger things fandom is also on tumblr and, while the vast majority seem to hate you or your character for some reason, there's a little corner of it i think you should see." they say and hand billy the tablet... and then roll their eyes and show him how to use it and how to scroll through tumblr.

after what seems to be like months, billy is scrolling through what the being calls the 'billy fandom tumblr'. what he sees confuses him. there's people making... what where they called? posts? defending him and bashing his dad and crying over his death and all his lost potential. he's also confused. "why are they calling me a slut? and baby girl? and why the fuck am i in a jar?" he asks and the being waves off his questions, telling him to just keep scrolling, dammit and so billy does and the more he sees, the more his eyes seem to feel more and more suspiciously wet.

"they're strangers. they don't- why are they defending me so much?" he asks, voice wavering as he stares at yet another post of someone angry and hurting over his lost potential. the being simply shrugs at the question, picking at their seemingly flawless nails.

"maybe they just see something in you that no one ever wanted to see." they say and billy cries, the tablet slipping from his shaking fingers and falling onto the floor. "why are you showing me this?" he manages to choke through the knot in his throat, lifting his head to look at the being. "everyone deserves to know they're loved, william. even you." they sigh and move forward to cup his cheeks tenderly and billy can only cry more at that. he thought he would never be loved. he died thinking he was unloved.

as he cries, he feels a burning sensation in his chest and starts to hear a slow beeping sound start echoing throughout the room. "what's going on?" he asks, scared once again. "that would the sound of you waking up." the being says and suddenly billy is surrounded in darkness once again.

he gasps as he opens his eyes to a bright room. it takes his eyes a little bit to get accustomed to the brightness, but when they do he realizes he's in a hospital room. him. he... survived?

"billy."

comes the broken whisper from his bedside and when he turns his head, steve harrington is there with red eyes and an even redder nose, bundled up in a thick jacket. when he sees billy staring back at him in confusion, he sobs in what seems to be relief and rushes forward to hug him gently. billy doesn't know what to do at that so he just. lays there.

"everyone deserves love, even you." he hears the being's voice in his head and so he exhales through his nose and hugs the crying steve back. he has no idea why he survived when he was supposed to die but he doesn't want to waste this opportunity. not now that he has steve with him in his arms. maybe soon he'll process the fact that he spent a confusing amount of time in a blank room with an otherwordly entity and break down and need therapy for it but for now, he holds steve close and lets himself smile for the first time in a while.

#do not ask me what this is #i have no idea what it is either #i'm just as confused as you are #hope y'all like it tho #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #uh #the being #ignore all the typos #i cannot be bothered to fix them rn

[giurochedadomani]

Guys! An idea. Because I love this kind of stories: Eddie and Billy go to buy some metalhead gear to some shady, crappy shop with a mysterious, creepy owner. Perhaps they're taking a look to the rings because Eddie wants some new pieces and the owner advises them again buying a very cool ring, because, of course, it's cursed. Eddie heads the advice, because something about him and his reaction to the Upside Down tells me that he'd be the type of: let's not mess with the supernatural. It's cool and all but I'd rather not be possessed. But Billy....... Billy is cocky, Billy is impulsive, Billy is, and I say it with all the love of my heart, a bit of a little shit, and he....... Pickpockets the ring.

The ring seems a blessing at first. Perhaps we can keep of the mindflyer vibes and imagine a dark reflection of Billy that he sees in mirrors, that sometimes talk to him. And that dark! Billy seems SO nice at first. So willing to fulfill every single one of Billy's desires.

(He has Steve enraptured with him in about a week, eating from his palm like any other girl he has dated. And it's nice, okay. A dream come true. He doesn't think about how Steve wouldn't even look in his direction if it wasn't for the ring. He doesn't think AT ALL in how all the fire that he likes so much about Steve has disappeared in favor of this groupie behaviour he's exhibiting with Billy)

(He has a massive fight with Eddie in which Eddie tries to warn him against the effects of the ring and Billy doesn't understand why Eddie wouldn't take advantage of it. He could ask the ring to make him Corroded Coffin the next Metallica, for fuck's sake!!)

(The turning point has to do with Neil, but I'm not sure which one would be more gutting: the ring fulfills EVERY desire, even Billy's deepest ones. So Neil.... Dropping dead in which everyone assumes is heart attack? Or Neil waking up one day behaving like the most doting father in the world because Billy started wishful thinking about the few good memories he has with him, from back at when he was very little?)

We can keep a similar end to the s3, sort of. I'm thinking about a huge fight against dark! Billy in Starcourt that ends up with them destroying the ring and dark! Billy getting dragged back to the Upside Down hell.

And I'm a sucker for happy endings so this big ass mess brings the guys together and gives Billy true friends in the way he has always craved.

#Mungrove #Harringroveson #billy hargrove

[not-close-to-straight]

Chapter Christmas:

Their bond! That was so lovely and also unexpected and I really adore that it is in such a quiet, private, intimate moment. Like just, them in the bath together. It was beautiful in my head, thank you so much for writing it like that!

“No one knew something was wrong with me.” 

MAN! This part hit so hard! Because it's true. And it's just so sad. And I want to hug Billy so, so much!

“I want you to be happy to come home to me.” 😭😍

The Christmas presents were so spot on!

Chapter New Year:

More Max and Billy 😍😍😍

And Billy of all people letting Lucas know that Max is safe with them. I really like the moments where Billy has contact with the Party. And I'm sure, the more he has them, the more he will come to realise that they do accept him and can forgive him for the crap he did in the past as himself (and that they've already forgiven him for the crap he did as Not him).

“It’s like gold and pink and-- and maybe I smell flowers or something?” Steve flushed pink at Billy’s surprised laugh. “And my eyes go sort of hazy and blurry… my stomach does the butterfly thing. Is that how it feels for you too?” 

“When?” 

“When I’m happy.” Steve gestured between the two of them. “Does it feel like that for you when I’m happy, or is it different?” 

“Oh.” The corners of Billy’s mouth lagged when his smile drooped a little. “I um. I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

That was an awkward conversation for sure. Awkward and sad. But then Steve going to Hopper, asking for advice, Hopper being willing to listen and give advice. Anything Hopper does in this fic is just perfect and I love him even more.  

“I need to stop thinking about taking care of Billy or handling the situation all the time and just… be with my soulmate.”  

“Yep.” 

“Huh." He swallowed. "Is it really that easy?"

"For soulmates?" Hopper nodded. "It sure as shit is supposed to be." 😍😍😍

And Steve not even having to say the words 'I love you' but Billy feeling/hearing them anyways. That was just perfection!

I wish I could reach into the screen to give you a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and gush about you (and your stories) more but that would be creepy so i'll leave it at this 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Have a great day, Kara!

I LOVED the Christmas chapter. Relationships are built and strengthened in small moments of intimacy and the way Billy and Steve fall into each other all the time is so beautiful.

Billy being so hurt about no one knowing anything was wrong with him-- he KNOWS he was an asshole before and he's sorry for it, but he also has mentioned several times in the fic how no one helped with Neil, how no one seemed to care, how calling the cops would only result in being hurt more cos no one ever did anything. So then he gets flayed and STILL no one seems to notice or care. Not even his soulmate. To live a life of horror and know NO ONE could be bothered to check in and care? FUCK.

I am obsessed with Dad!Hopper. Every time I get to write him with Steve or Billy it makes me so happy. I love (hate) the canon scene in S2 when El comes back and Mike ends up screaming at Hopper in the other room? Hop lets Mike yell and shout and then just hugs him in tight while he breaks down and I immediately fell in love. He's amazing.

[hgficrec]

general recs 003

if i stare too long - features Eddie Munson

Author(s): brawls (brawlite), ToAStranger 24 chapters - 191,196 words After the end of the world, Billy Hargrove is a mess. But at least he has company.

frayed, cut off Author(s): abaddxns 1 Chapter - 6139 words one shot inspired by a quote prompt given to me by rarsablack on tumblr!

person a: you're insane!

person b: i know! isn't it great?

all these to me Author(s): lymricks 1 Chapter - 9715 words “I got our room key,” Billy says.

“Our…?”

“Alphabetical,” Billy answers, shrugging.

Or: Three times Steve and Billy share (a bed, a meal, the truth) and one time they share (a virus).

third period (don’t be home for christmas) Author(s): lymricks 1 Chapter - 2339  words “Happy last day, everyone,” Aaron adds. His grin turns a little dirty then. “Hargrove, hey man. I bet you’re thrilled for a little more free time.”

Steve perks up, turning to see where Billy is, ready to ask him what his problem was this morning, but he freezes when he sees the look on Billy’s face.

sang the sun in flight Author(s): coffeeandchemicals 5  Chapters - 14,449  words Billy was dying. And it fucking hurt.

He hadn’t planned on dying – although, he supposed, most people really don’t – and he’d definitely not planned on being possessed. And, given what he’d done, Billy thought that maybe he deserved to die – but he was afraid.

So afraid.

lights down low Author(s): abaddxns 1 Chapter - 10,294  words billy slips into steve’s bedroom between ten and eleven most of the nights he manages to sneak out. it’s just after neil’s gone to sleep or at least when he’s tired of ragging on him about something that isn’t even his fault. when neil’s really in a mood, other than the slew of verbal beratement, sometimes he’ll receive a firm knock to the back of the head, a shove into the wall or a calloused hand tightly gripping his neck, too. all things he gets for a good night, sweet dreams most nights, up until he’s at the harringtons' place.

or: billy goes to steve's place after a rough or even relatively good night. after being grounded and forced to stay away, an opportunity presents itself.

making hollywood look tiny Author(s): oephelia 1 Chapter - 4165  words He’ll take an inch and make it everything if Billy will just give it to him.

(or what happiness could look like for steve and billy, topped with a cherry.)

riches & wonders Author(s): oephelia 1 Chapter - 2767  words Steve's teetering on the edge of something, all alone.

His eyes meet Billy’s.

They’re teetering on the edge of something, together.

(or a handful of the bricks that build steve and billy a home.)

Incense and Peppermints Author(s): cupidsintern 1 Chapter - 1397 words Steve tries to figure out what Billy's apartment smells like, and why it's such a safe haven for him.

Wait for you, Burn for you Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 1397 words He should hang up. Billy can’t possibly have any good reason to be calling, and engaging with…whatever this is, probably won’t end well for Steve. However, Steve is very bored. And Hargrove is at the very least…entertaining. In his way.

If Steve were a little more honest with himself, he might use other adjectives, but he’s not thinking about that.

“Steeevie…” Billy sing-songs through the phone, “Pretty boy, what’re you doing right now?”

Find our way Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 5440 words Billy's having a cozy night in when Steve and the Party show up, worried the Mind Flayer might be back. Everyone ends up crashing at Billy's place, but there's only so many places to sleep......

Won’t cross these streets (until you hold my hand) Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 1537 words some good old-fashioned mutual pining, feat. very late valentine's day gifts and steve's lack of brain-to-mouth filter when he's high

Something to Hold Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 1537 words billy gives steve his jacket and is real gay about it

Don’t Know What I’m Gonna Do (About This Feeling Inside) Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 11,927 words He’s barely had the chance to consider grabbing the half-empty bottle of Jack on the counter, when there’s a knock at the door. He startles, slopping coffee on the floor, and cursing under his breath.

It’s embarrassing how quickly his heart leaps, how he gets a little soft and mushy about the fact that someone’s here to see him. There’s no way it’s some rando, he lives in the middle of nowhere and it’s Christmas.

He has to clear his throat and pace himself, hold back from rushing too eagerly to the door. Takes the time to put his mug down first, wipe the coffee off his hand, walk at a reasonable pace to the front door, and—

It’s Steve.

Will I Find My Peace Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 4997 words Every goddamn day Billy regrets moving in with Heather. His shitty studio apartment was just fucking fine, thank you very much. Even with the mold under the radiator. And the cracked window pane. And dysfunctional neighbours. All that aside, he was perfectly happy with his old place. 

True, his scarred up lungs couldn’t handle the constant draftiness, and he’d had more than one panic attack when the arguing next door sounded a little too familiar, but…

But at least there he didn’t have to deal with Steve goddamn Harrington and his stupid tiny shorts.

Lay Bare These Marks of Mine Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 5910 words He watched Steve walk out that door all dressed up in his nice slacks and stupid soft sweater and looking like every one of Billy’s guilty fantasies come to life, and acted like he was okay with that all being for someone else. A stranger. A random girl Steve met at the fucking dog park of all places, like he’s the lead in some shitty rom com. He doesn’t even have a dog.

And Billy could waste his time being angry. Jealous. Miserable. Sulking alone in their apartment waiting for Steve to come back. Or worse, for him to call and tell Billy not to wait up. He could. He’s got an unopened bottle of cheap tequila waiting for just such an occasion. 

But he doesn’t.

What I Want (Is Haunting Me) Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 5196 words Billy never really...got Valentine’s Day. Didn’t understand why his mom got all misty-eyed when they walked past displays of roses in the grocery store. Why there was a bitterness about it. A sadness she seemed to carry with her everywhere.

Didn’t really get why girls would titter over the cardboard cut-out hearts they made in art class, messy with glitter and lopsided declarations in smelly marker.

He didn’t really understand...girls, honestly. The appeal. Why his friends would be screaming one second about girls not being allowed to play with them, and the next, chasing down Amy Wright trying to steal a kiss.

or the way billy's feelings about valentine's day, and himself, change over the years

See What This is Worth Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 6057 words Billy is not, by nature, the kind of person who likes to be overly helpful. He doesn’t go out of his way for people he doesn’t know. He’s not especially charitable.

And yet here he is, taking time out of his Friday night, setting up tables and supervising idiots with no upper body strength who think they can move a whole stack of chairs on their own. He has better things to do than hang out at work and chaperone a bunch of middle-schoolers trying to score their first kiss to some truly grating top 40 shit.

Hard to Know Myself (trapped in my own head) Author(s): hazel1706 1 Chapter - 8083 words Billy knocks back another shot. There's a speaker hanging on the wall next to him pumping out tinny dance beats so loudly he can feel his molars vibrate. Every high note is a spike through his brain, but at least he can use the music as an excuse to ignore the conversations going on around him.

He used to be good at this shit. Crowds. Drunken strangers. Flirting with anyone who looked at him twice. He made sure he was good at it.

But, well. Shit happens. Monsters happened. A shadow reaching into his brain and pulling him apart piece by piece, cold fingers gripping his spine and pulling him around like a marionette. Blood on his hands. It changes a person.

And so does falling in love.

i hear the secrets that you keep (when you’re talking in your sleep) Author(s): oephelia 1 Chapter - 7774 words Billy’s there the way that he’s a lot of places nowadays, sort of absent-mindedly, like he’s not sure how it happened or why and is going somewhere else in his mind anyway.

Steve watches him more than ever now, and Billy rarely watches back.

(or five times billy really needed some sleep, and one time he needed something else entirely)

#fic rec #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #ao3 #billy x steve #billy hargrove x steve harrington

[weird-an]

Billy makes himself a microwave dinner on his birthday. Eating alone, because Neil took Susan on a date to Indianapolis and Max is out somewhere with the Creepy Kids Club.

Swanson Fried Fucking Chicken Dinner. That's how Billy treats himself for turning 18. For somehow surviving until today, more or less by accident.

It tastes bland and nearly burns his tongue, but that doesn't matter. Billy has a bottle of cheap liquor waiting for him. The birthday present he got for himself to wash away the bitter taste of a failed childhood. He didn't even had to kiss the cashier for that, just show off a little skin and give her a wink. A giant win.

He's halfway through the bottle when the doorbell rings. Which he considers to just ignore and then it rings again and well, he's ready to punch whoever dares to disturb his celebration of misery.

He opens the door. Steve Harrington stands in front of him. Hair fluffier than ever like he had styled it - for what exactly?

Harrington isn't his friend, not let alone his boyfriend, no matter what stupid dreams Billy sometimes wakes up with. They're fucking around and its fun. Billy gets to bathe in the sun shining right through Harrington's bright eyes, reminding him of home, but that's it.

And he isn't supposed to come here. Or even call the house. Billy told him that if Harrington dials his number once and that its fucking over - he didn't point out that it's Neil who is going to set an end to their fooling around.

"Happy birthday!" Harrington holds out a box with a giant blue bow on top for him.

Billy stares at the wrapping paper with little fishes on them.

"I don't do that," he just says. His throat feels tight and he wonders if he's already blackout drunk.

"What?" Harrington shoots him a look like he doesn't believe him for a second and then just walks inside the house.

The whole thing, Billy wants to answer. Bows, birthdays, gifts, friendship?

But he can't say anything, because Harrington is inside. Right next to Billy, gently removing his hand from where it's clutching the door knob and closes the door. He's inside the house and somehow they're both still alive.

"Where is your room?" he says, an unreadable expression flickering across his face when he sees the half eaten TV dinner and the amber bottle on the table.

Billy simply stands there, staring at him. "You can't be here."

Harrington snorts. "Apparently I can, Billy." There's that bitchy tone in his voice he always gets when he's disagreeing with something.

When Billy shows him his room, because he can't say no to Harrington's stupid dimples and crooked smile, he's so ashamed.

The ashtray is overflowing, Shauna Grant's eyes seem to judge him and his room just seems so gray and bleak. Harrington doesn't seem to mind. Studies the dart board and the book on the nightstand and then turns around to grin at Billy.

"Open your gift!" Harrington pushes the box in Billy's hand.

Billy has opened a gift before. He thinks. Or at least, he has seen Max opening hers. He tries to tear the wrapping paper. One fish still loses a fin.

Concert tickets. For Mötley Crüe playing in Chicago. In November.

"I'm coming with you." Harrington sounds weirdly enthusiatistic. "If you want me to."

Which means that he wants to hang out with Billy after graduation. After he should go fuck off getting a business degree and marrying a girl that can give him six freaking kids.

It's too much. Not only the tickets, but that Harrington is wanting to continue ... whatever this is. Harrington wanting them to go to Chicago. On a whole trip. To go see one of Billy's favourite bands.

"You... hate Mötley Crüe."

"I like Live Wire."

Which is the first song Billy ever made Harrington sit through, after they shared a smoke, still dizzy from the orgasm. It makes Billy's chest hurt.

"Don't you like it?" Harrington's brown eyes get huge. Like when Billy really has to leave because Neil expects him to mow the lawn or some shit and Steve asks for another quickie.

But Harrington isn't asking for sex right now. Or is he?

"I do," Billy admits. He likes it too much. The gift, the warm feeling inside him, Steve. "Thanks?"

Well. He's got to pay him back somehow, doesn't he? His hands are on Steve's belt, but Steve just takes them, intertwining their fingers.

"It's a gift," Steve says, slowly.

"Your huge dick is a gift," Billy mumbles, ignoring the burn of his cheeks and trying not not stare at Steve's pink lips.

Steve winks at him.

"You'll get that later. Now I'm hungry," he says, pressing a kiss on Billy's lips. Casually. As if that's a thing they do. Kiss a little, cuddle, like they are something.

Billy warms him another microwave dinner. Which tastes awesome now, somehow. Like a Michelin prized meal. His heart is racing the whole time and he feels drunk and sober at once.

He watches Steve chewing, cheeks stuffed full and radiating warmth and happiness. Which seems like a gift, too. This is the best birthday...maybe in forever.

@harringroveweek

#harringroveweek #got a bit carried away #steve's going to sneak out of the window later #prompts: 18 years old mircowave dinner and live wire by mötley crüe #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #billy x steve #billy hargrove deserved better

[stranger-nightmare]

I love in discourse about billy, everyone seems to forget one real big thing.

Billy has been abused his whole life. He is never seen as someone who knows what the fuck a ‘gentle touch’ is.

He is beat by his dad for any little thing he does.

Didn’t watch max close enough? Punch to the face.

In mad max which excellent book for purely maxs story being told and her pov but Didn’t want to deal with being bitched at? Got punched in the face so bad his eye swelled up and then Neil beat the shit out of him with his belt.

Came home without his car, dazed and probably very confused, bloody nose, got hit by his dad again.

He was never once given a moment to change. Not once. By anyone.

So much so one happy memory and a soft touch from El, made him rethink and then sacrifice himself because let’s be real if he survived, what would have been left for him? Nothing.

People are very quick to jump on only billy about his shit behavior but not Jonathan who unknowing to Nancy took photos of Her in her bra then developed them. So he planned to what? Just develop them and then throw them out? Let’s be real here. We know why he developed the photos. He’s a teenage boy.

Steve before he became mom, was a giant fucking dick, he let his friends spray paint that Nancy was a slut on the town movie theatre sign. Yeah he was a basic one dimension billy who redeemed himself but he was still a massive dick.

Now billy is often seen as racist because out of all the kids Lucas was the one he targeted hard, right? And while I won’t say that’s wrong for BIPOC folk to be like that’s racist because I can never know the feelings of seeing that and being like ‘that’s racist shit that happens everyday to me Or my friends ECT’ and I will never say people who think that are wrong. Interpretations are all going to be different but From an outside look, Lucas was the one upsetting max in that moment. Lucas was the one she was fighting with. So from an outside view it can be seen as him picking Lucas because he was the one he saw getting at max.

Now does it probably have seeded undertones that were learned from his actual PoS dad? Yeah probably.

In mad max it says that Neil is a fucking awful man that sort of pushed himself on her mom cause they worked together at a bank. And Susan as shown in the book is pretty much a ghost who ignores what happens and ends up just fusing with who ever she is dating. And doesn’t see the red flags until it gets to a bad point.

Theirs a moment in the book where billy gives max a cigarette because she’s still in the ‘trying to bond’ phase and Susan yells at him but the second Neil pulls up, Susan knows, if she says what happened, Neil is going to be 1000xs worse to billy then she ever could. So she lets it go. That’s the one time you see someone slightly care if billy is hurt or not.

Is billy good? No. because he’s not, he’s a shitty teenage boy with anger issues.

Was he a 17/18 year old kid who the one person who loved and protected him left him with an abusive father knowing what would happen? Yeah he was.

Billy had no one. Until the day he sacrificed himself for max and for el and everyone, he had no one.

But no one wants to see that side of it.

That billy isn’t the abuse victim they all want him to be.

His trauma made him angry, made him hate, made him continue the cycle of abuse.

He wasn’t what people wanted him to be because he never had a chance. But people don’t want to think about that. That not all abuse victims become stronger from the abuse. That they can become abusers themselves.

Remember it took a soft touch and a happy memory for him to help instead of hurt. If one person had before he got flayed, was like

“Hey it’s okay. Stop being a dick. And let me help you”

Maybe they would have stopped the mind flayer before it took half a town being goop monsters and billy getting stabbed through the chest sacrificing himself.

But that’s just my thoughts. Because billy sucked, he sucked big time. But he was also a kid, an abused, very fucked kid. Who learned to hurt because that’s the only thing he’s ever known. Love what’s that? The one person who loved him, left him.

Billy sucked. But Billy fully deserved more then what he got.

yeah this is mostly the point I was trying to make, like I was only ever looking into and discussing the background and development of his character, like I have never and will never like or condone any of his behaviour bc that boy is an asshole no doubt about it, but there’s more to him than that

but yeah a lot of people seem to be quick to just say he’s an abuser and that’s that, which yes is true but I just think there’s more to it than that, all I was ever really trying to say was I definitely think there was a layer buried within Billy where he had the potential to grow and become a better person if only he was given that opportunity to, because as we saw when it came right down to it he did sacrifice himself for Max and her friend that he barely even knew, when push came to shove he did do the ‘right thing’, again I know this doesn’t justify or redeem his behaviour but it was a step in the right direction at least

anyway yeah I’ve said all that I can really say about him now so yeah

-hope

#the answer to your nightmare #stranger things #billy hargrove

[xtrafluffyteddy]

Unexpected visitors

Pairing: Eddie munson x reader, Steve harrington x reader, Billy hargrove x reader

Mentions: cursing, comfort, minor injuries, happy ending

Someone shows up at 3am

This is part of the home for wayward souls series

I may make a part 2 to this if y’all are interested

You grumbles as you climbed out of bed pulling on your robe to go answer the door as your walking down the hallway you catch a glimpse of the clock that reads 2:30am “Jesus who’s knocking at this fucking hour” you groan and turn on your living room lamp before opening the door “what do you-“ you begin yelling only to soften when you see max standing there “max what’re you-“ you stop when you notice she’s crying her tough girl persona dropped “oh sweetpea” you usher her inside taking off your robe to wrap her in “have a seat I’ll be right back” she just nods and sniffles as she sits down

You grab the first aid kit, and something hot to drink as well as a small snack for the redhead who’s now curled up on your couch tucked away in the farthest corner. You can’t help but feel your heart break at the sight “max” you say softly kneeling in front of her “what happened how’d you get here?” You take her hands gently looking them over for any signs of a fight concerned at the fact a 14 year old is walking by herself through the sketchy parts of town “I walked” she mumbles barely audible still clutching your robe “sweetpea it’s 2:30 in the morning why are you out this late” you ask with nothing but concern as you look over face for any signs of a fight again taking in the cut on her cheek bone and slight bruising around her eye “I didn’t know where else to go” she whispers brokenly looking up at you with wide tired eyes.

You take a deep breath and keep your calm as you begin cleaning her up “well I’m glad you came here instead of someone else’s place” you blow gently on the cut on her cheek so it doesn’t burn so bad after the alcohol wipe “what happened?” You question as you hand her the warm drink then begin to clean up “Neil came home drunk he’s been doing it a lot since Billy left” she began wiping the tears that began falling again “he took it out on my mom this time” you can only imagine what happened “I tried to defend her” she finishes to tired to go into detail you just nod and frown “okay then sweetpea I’m gonna go grab you some clothes then you can go take a warm shower how does that sound” you give her a small smile as she nods and starts to get up “just leave your dirty clothes on the floor I’ll come get them later”

You lay some of your old clothes that don’t fit anymore on the bathroom counter for her as well as some warm towels you had tossed in the dryer “call me if you need anything” you ruffle her hair gently then bonk your forehead against hers before closing the bathroom door behind you.

“What a fucking coward” you growl as you begin making the pull out couch bed for her to sleep in “hitting a little girl what a piece of shit” your to caught up in your rage cleaning to hear Billy and Steve walk up behind you “sunshine?” Steve calls tentatively flinching back when you turn sharply to him “shit I’m sorry Stevie” you calm down and take a deep breath as you squeeze past them to grab some blankets from the closet “who’s in the shower honey?” Billy questions looking towards the closed bathroom door “Max is” Billy looks at you surprised “max? What’s she doin here it’s like 3am?” He helps you grab one of the heavier blankets tossing it on the pull out bed “Neil hit her im guessing” you bite your lip shaking your head so you don’t have to think about it again “he what?!” Steve pretty much shouts “cool it momma bear we need to stay calm for her we will handle it in the morning” you whisper sternly as you hear the water shut off

When max comes shuffling out in one of your shirts and some pajama pants she’s surprised to see Billy and Steve standing behind you worried looks on their faces “are you okay” Steve questions arms crossed over his chest “I’m fine Steve I’m just tired is all” Max mumbles as she shuffles to you handing you her dirty clothes “why don’t you go get some rest hm?” You help her to bed tucking her in even though she insists she can do it herself but doesn’t stop you “goodnight max we love you” you press a soft kiss to her forehead as you flick off the lamp the boys following you to your room

Billy had been silent the whole time thinking about Neil hitting a defenseless Max I mean max wasn’t his favorite person but no kid deserves to be hit for defending a parent “what if Neil shows up?” Steve questions as he flops down on your bed “we will handle it accordingly “ you stare calmly “and by accordingly you mean??” Billy questions raising a brow his arms uncrossing “I’ll call hopper or I’ll whoop his ass plain and simple he doesn’t he get to just lay his hands on a little girl and think he can just come get her the next morning” you rubs your eyes feeling the tiredness catching up to you “so that means she’ll be staying with us a couple of days until this is sorted” they both nod

Once the two boys had left your room and you were comfortable under your blankets you heard your door creak open “Billy?“ no reply “Steve?” No reply, it couldn’t be Eddie he was on tour with the band “Max?” You sit up your eyes adjusting to the dark seeing the girl standing by the door arms wrapped around yourself “I know it’s silly” she whispered “but can I sleep with you tonight” she shuffles to the edge of your bed arms wrapped around herself “of course you can sweetpea” you scoot over allowing her to climb in and get comfortable while you pet her head humming softly to soothe her “get some rest I won’t let anything happen to you I promise” you whisper smiling as she slips into a peaceful sleep.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie st4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie my beloved #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #max mayfield #max stranger things #max st4