CURRENTLY POSTING ABOUT SEASON3 OF STRANGER THINGS
@harringtonhargrovethings
Taylor | 19 | I occasionally write reader inserts, mainly about Billy and Steve | I follow/comment as @bruisinlikeapeach | Don't be afraid to pop in and say hi! | simply for some of the content I write this is an 18+ blog only please |
Hi hello and good morning so Billy Hargrove is a character who is trapped in a hyper-aggressive performance of toxic masculinity that he is absolutely terrified of dropping at any moment and is an abused child who was degraded for any positive expressions of emotion so the only outlet that he ever had in life that didn’t break the image he needed to maintain but also allowed him to give and receive positive emotional feedback was sex so if you don’t think he was an absolute top 10 most epic smash of all time you’re lying to yourself and other people thank you and goodnight
We all have that one fic that we were so excited to write, that we had a wonderful time writing, that we are really proud of….and it doesn’t get any attention.
Raise a glass to all those fics that didn’t find their audience.
Description: Billy Hargrove was never part of your plan. Before he’d showed up in Hawkins, you knew what you had to do. Come senior year, everything was supposed to fall into place. Instead, you’d fallen into his bed and set off a series of events that were going to ruin everything you’d worked for.
A/N: *old sea captain voice* THAR BE SMUT AHEAD!! (enjoy!)
"Mom?" you called into the well-lit house, closing the door behind you and making sure it was locked.
"Are you awake?" you called again, met by silence. You heaved your duffel bag over your shoulder with a heavy sigh, checking that the stove was turned off before shutting off all the lights as you moved towards the stairs.
If she didn't start turning off the lights, your electric bill was gonna be more than you could pay and they'd end up shutting off the power. Again.
You gave a heavy sigh, barely making it halfway up the dark staircase when you tripped over a dark mass, cursing as your knee smacked against the wooden step.
"You've got to be kidding me," you gritted out, turning to squint at your mother's passed out form laying across the steps, her head lazily turning towards you. She stared at you with disinterest for a few moments before her eyes drifted shut again and her head lolled against the stairs.
You glared at her passed out form, snatching your bag from the step below you. Every single day, since you were 15 had been the same routine. It was the equivalent of living with a corpse. She was there in body, and that was it. Even when she was awake, she was drunk or high.
You made your way up the rest of the stairs, stopping just inside your door to drop your bag inside and picked your way back down to your mother's unconscious form. You lifted one of her arms and looped it around the back of your neck, heaving her up as best as you could so she didn't fall and send both of you tumbling down the stairs.
Moving with her was almost impossible, with her weight going slack every couple of steps and you sighed in frustration, pulling harder on her arm in an effort to get her up the last couple of steps.
She muttered something under her breath and you paused to try and hear her before continuing your path to her room, practically dragging her at this point.
You heaved her onto her bed, shoving the pile of clothes you'd washed for her onto the floor and pushing her legs onto the mattress, panting slightly.
You stopped, staring at her and couldn't help the hatred that bubbled up in your chest. She was your mom, sure, but that didn't stop the feeling in the slightest.
You watched the steady rise and fall of her chest for a few moments, wondering how someone who drank and got high so often could breathe like a normal human being.
You suppressed the urge to yell and scream at her to get off her ass and be a mom but knew it was pointless. You'd yelled and screamed more times than you could count and nothing ever changed.
With a scowl, you pushed away from the door frame, your feet practically dragging down the hallway to your room. You closed your door behind you, locking the door.
Leaving it open or unlocked often meant your mother would wander in, and you'd been puked on too many times to feel comfortable with it open anymore.
You slipped between the covers, glancing at the full duffel bag still sitting by your doorway.
You sighed, reaching for your lamp and shutting it off, bathing the room in darkness. You lay in bed, exhausted, but unable to go to sleep.
You rolled to your side, away from the door, and squished your eyes shut.
Behind your lids, images of Billy filled your head. It seemed like you couldn't escape him no matter how hard you tried. He was always there.
You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes and let out a long drawn-out groan. Why couldn't he just leave you alone? Didn't he see you were no good for one another? That you wanted nothing to do with him?
You drifted to sleep, your thoughts surrounding your predicament with Billy and had the same dream that night that you'd had at least once a month since you'd last interacted with Billy.
Your heart raced as you pulled upwards on the window, trying not to make a sound. It's slightly pointless though, your heavy breathing is probably enough to wake up everyone in the house.
For a moment, you consider leaving and going home but immediately talk yourself out of it. That's the last place you wanted to be. For one night, you wanted to be a normal teenager.
Pushing all thoughts of your home life away- at least for the night- you slide the window pane to Billy's room upwards.
Somewhere behind the glass, Billy Hargrove is waiting for you. You wet your lips with a flick of your tongue and step foot in, sure that your heart is about to leap out your throat.
You slide in all the way, turning and closing the window as quietly as you can when an arm reaches out and spins you around.
You yelp as you lose your footing and the same arm reaches up to cover your mouth.
"Shhh, sweet girl, it's just me," Billy whispers, smirking down at you, the huskiness of his voice giving you goosebumps.
"Sorry," you whisper as he moves his hand and his thumb traces over your bottom lip as he watches your face.
Your heartbeat speeds up again at the act, sure now that you weren't an idiot for thinking there was more than just a hidden friendship between you and Billy Hargrove.
Since he'd arrived, Billy had taken an interest in you that had blossomed into a friendship outside of school. He was different around you, more relaxed, less of an asshole, to be blunt. Not that he didn't have his moments.
In the past couple of months though, you'd gotten even closer, and the stories of his conquests had gotten fewer, the two of you going out of your ways to spend time together and sharing knowing glances in classes. It had been the best time of your life if you were being honest. And then he'd kissed you pressed against his Camaro a month ago.
"What are you thinking about?" he questions, bringing you back to the present.
"You," you whisper, stretching forward to brush your nose against his.
"That so?" he grins crookedly. "Good things, I hope." his blue eyes sparkle with mischief and you nod.
"Always, Hargrove." you close the gap, your hands reaching up to cup his face as your lips meet and he inhales sharply, gripping your hips.
You break the kiss when a need for air arises, pressing your forehead against his.
"I've wanted to do that all day," he whispered hoarsely, his hands tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back for another kiss, this one hungrier.
He nipped at your bottom lip, tugging at your hair and you whimpered slightly. Kissing him felt better than you imagined, but you wanted more.
"Billy, please," you whispered and he nodded, pressing kisses in between words.
"I know, we'll get there, let me enjoy this," he promised, his hands dipping below your shirt to rub circles over your skin with his thumb. "I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it," he teases, pressing kisses along your jaw.
You roll your eyes slightly. "I should've never told you my first time sucked," you admitted, clenching your jaw when his teeth sunk into the skin on your neck, his mouth sucking harshly.
He pulled away, eyebrow cocked. "Would you rather me have never kissed you? And never offered to show you that sex can be very, very good?" he hummed, pushing you back against the wall next to his window, pinning you against his body. "Well, it is with me anyway," he smirked, glancing down at you hungrily.
You looked up at him through your lashes innocently, tugging on his shirt slightly. "Well, so far all I've heard is talk Billy Hargrove, so maybe that's all you got," you cooed smiling sweetly, and he grinned, his hands sliding down to cup your ass.
"Sweet girl, you have no idea," he murmured, pressing himself between your legs as his lips returned to yours briefly. You let out a gasp as one of his hands dipped below the waistband of your jeans to grip your skin and he groaned, pressing himself further against you, his lips and teeth trailing along your neck.
You fisted the material of his shirt in your hands as his erection pressed against you, and his mouth traveled lower, whimpers slipping from your lips as he took his time.
"Billy, please," you breathed out pleadingly, and he shushed you, lifting his head to look at you, that cocky grin returning to his face.
"Was that begging I heard, Y/N?" he teased and you blushed slightly.
"Hard not to when you're taking your sweet time," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.
His gaze softened slightly and he stepped forward again, his hands sliding along your skin under your t-shirt. "I'm sorry, I just want to enjoy this," he murmured, watching your face intently as his fingers brushed along the underside of your bra and you arched into his touch, reaching down to pull your shirt over your head impatiently.
He groaned quietly at the sight of you, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs swiping over the uncovered skin. "God, you're gorgeous," he growled, kissing along your chest briefly before dragging one of the cups of your bra down roughly, his tongue tracing circles around your nipple.
You gasped at the feeling, tangling your fingers in his hair as his other hand slid beneath your cup to pinch and rub your other nipple, his mouth closing over the first one and a low moan escaping you.
"Fuck Billy," you gasped out, pouting slightly as he straightened up, reaching behind you to expertly unhook your bra. You quickly cupped the looser material to your chest as his lips smashed against yours, his palms gripping the outside of your thighs as he lifted you, carrying you the few steps to his bed, tossing you lightly onto the mattress.
You let the bra fall from your chest and wiggled uncomfortably as he stared down at you, panting. He'd just had his mouth all over you, but suddenly you felt self-conscious being half-naked below him.
"God, you're something," he breathed, sliding his hand behind your neck as he kissed you softly, his hand sliding along the waistband of your jeans, his pinky just barely dipping below. "This okay?" he asked breathlessly, his eyes filled with want as he looked at you.
You nodded, and his hands easily popped open the button on your jeans, the sound of your zipper echoing in the room along with your heartbeat. He groaned as his fingers dipped under the lace, slipping along your folds and you breathed in sharply, gripping the bedding beneath you.
"So wet for me already, Sweet girl?" he teased, his teeth nipping at your throat as he buried his face in your neck, venturing further, a finger pressing against your entrance. "Goddamn, I could fuck you so easy right now," he growled, slipping a finger inside of you easily.
You let out a quiet moan, lifting your hips at the feeling and he smiled against your skin. "That what you want? Want me to fuck you until you're screaming my name?" he probed and you tightened around him, earning a hiss that escaped him.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N."
You gripped his wrist, grinding yourself against his hand as he pressed soft kisses along your shoulder, working his digit in and out of you at an excruciating pace. "Can you take another one?" he whispered hoarsely, and you nod, mouth falling open as he pressed another digit alongside the first, discomfort tugging at you.
"Careful, Bill," you warn breathlessly, and he nods, slowing his movements.
"We're gonna have to warm you up a little more," he murmured, his thumb pressing against your clit lightly, causing you to buck your hips, face heating as he chuckles. "For some reason, I think you're okay with that."
You lifted your hips again, encouraging him to move and clenched around his fingers. Letting out a groan, he pressed his fingers deeper, up to the knuckle and you let out an audible gasp, your grip on his wrist tightening.
Speeding up his movements, he sat up, attempting to slide your jeans down your leg without stopping, growling in frustration and withdrawing his hand suddenly.
You whined at the loss of his fingers, sitting up as he kneeled between your legs, tugging your jeans off furiously. "From now on, you're only allowed to wear skirts or dresses," he muttered, throwing the offending fabric across his room.
"You're gonna tell me how to dress now?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow as you sat up on your elbows to glare at him, chest heaving slightly.
He looked up at you as he gripped your thighs, pulling them apart, making direct eye contact with you. "It'll make it easier for me to do this," he murmured, licking a long stripe along your still clothed core and you fell back, hand tangling in his hair as you muttered a string of curses.
He chuckled, using one finger to tug your panties to the side as he licked again, and your thighs convulsed, nearly closing, except for the grip he had on them.
He glanced up at you briefly as his tongue slid between your folds at a torturously slow pace, and your head fell back, lips parted with a silent whimper.
He gripped your thighs tightly as he sped up, his tongue eagerly lapping at you and his lips occasionally brushing against your clit.
Teeth scraped over the sensitive bundle of nerves and your fingers flew to tangle in his hair, hips arching in response.
A low growl escaped him as you tugged on his hair, his lips closing over your clit and his tongue flicking over it.
"Billy, please," you groaned softly and he glanced up at you, his eyes filled with concern and his lips visibly slick in the dim light.
"You okay?" he questioned, his gaze searching your face as you sat up, gripping his chin lightly as you dipped down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his mouth, his tongue slipping past your lips as he rose to push you back again, his arms landing on either side of your head as he pulled away.
"I need you, Hargrove," you whispered, fingers fumbling to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as he sat back to help you, shrugging it off and out of sight. You eagerly reached for the button on his jeans, his zipper halfway down when he gripped your wrist suddenly, stopping you.
"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he asked seriously, staring you down.
You rolled your eyes, nodding. "This isn't a big deal, Billy, it's not my first time. I told you about Tommy." you reminded him.
His eyes flashed with jealousy, and he scoffed. "Yeah, drunk, in a bathroom for ten minutes." he softened as you worried at your bottom lip with your teeth, releasing one of your hands to pull on your lip with his thumb. "I just want to make sure you want this, and I want to do it right."
You leaned forward to kiss him softly, your free hand slipping beneath his jeans to grip his length, capturing the groan that escaped him before pulling away.
"I'm positive, Billy. I want this," you reassured him, pumping his hardening length slowly, watching his face carefully.
He met your gaze momentarily, his eyes conflicted before they squeezed shut, his lips parted slightly. You took the opportunity to study his features before his eyes flew open and he gripped your wrist, pushing your hand away gently as he stepped off the bed, kicking off his jeans and reaching for a condom.
He tore the package with his teeth, his hand sliding along your leg, his fingers grazing over your folds again.
"Billy," you gasp his name, frustration bubbling up in your chest. "I need..." you trail off, your bottom lip trembling slightly.
His face reappears above yours as the bed dips under his weight, his palm landing next to your head on the pillow. "What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me. I'll give you whatever you want," he promises, following his words with nips along your neck and soft kisses on your collarbone.
"I need you," you whisper, cupping his face in your hands, not knowing at that moment, that those eyes would be an image seared in your brain long after the moment had passed.
"You have me, Y/N, I'm not going anywhere," he promised, using one hand to guide himself forward and slowly ease inside you.
You squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling of tightness and pulling and you can't help the sound of discomfort that escapes you.
Billy's lips pepper kisses along your cheeks and face as your nails dig into his arms. "I know, sweet girl, I'm sorry," he whispers gently. "Almost there." his lips capture yours as he thrusts forward the rest of the way, swallowing your small cry.
You peel open your eyes as he holds himself above you, stiff with tension. "Are you okay?" he asks and you nod silently.
"You can move, I'm ready," you lie, hoping to get his eyes anywhere but on your face and he shakes his head.
"Not yet," he murmurs, kissing your cheek softly before capturing your lips innocently, your anxiety and tension melting away slowly as you relaxed beneath him.
"I'm gonna move, but tell me if I need to stop," he warned, waiting for you to nod.
He eased out a bit and then back in, watching you carefully as you breathed deeply, the discomfort soon giving way to pleasure.
"Fuck, Billy," you whimpered, your hands fisting into the pillow beneath you as his thrusts sped up slightly. His fingers entwined with yours and he pinned your arms above your head as he gently rocked in and out.
Sweat dotted both your skin as he moved, making you stick together slightly and he pressed his forehead against yours, panting, his face twisted with concentration.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he growled, nipping at your bottom lip as he released your hands to grip your hips, pressing deeper into you.
You let out a gasp, your nails scratching the skin on his back and he hissed, burying his face in your neck as his hand reached between the two of you, his thumb finding your clit. You clenched around him and he cursed under his breath.
"You feel better than I ever imagined," he admitted, kissing you deeply as he pressed against your clit, your hips jerking as he thrust harder, his thumb moving in circles.
"Billy, I'm gonna-" your words ended on a gasp which he silenced quickly with his mouth, your legs wrapped around his waist as you came, holding on tightly to him.
He thrust into you a couple more times before his own orgasm stole over him, his fingers pressing into your hips in a bruising grip as he panted, leaning forward to kiss your forehead before pulling out and disappearing momentarily.
You stretched carefully, a soft smile on your face as the bed creaked and his arms wrapped around you, tugging your body against his. "You okay?" he questions softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
You nod, entwining your fingers with his and you can feel him smile slightly against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, and you twisted to look at him, his features tired but content. His palm slides against your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you.
"I love you," he breathed, pressing his lips against yours tenderly.
Those three words drench your body in ice-cold water. It's a shock to your system and there's only one thing you know to do.
Run.
You sit up immediately, his arm falling away from you, and grab at anything that might be your clothes.
"y/n?" he questions and you refuse to look at him. You can't look at him. You won't be able to stop this if you look at him. "y/n? What did I do?" you can hear him getting up and pulling on his jeans, his hand pressing against your skin as you pull a shirt over your head, frantically searching for your clothes.
"Hey!" he stops you, gripping your arms and forcing you to look at him. He's smiling softly, like he understands, as if he gets it, but he doesn't, he doesn't.
"It's okay, you don't need to leave, my family won't come in here," he assures you, his eyes soft and concerned and hopeful as he looks down at you, his thumb smoothing the skin on your cheek.
He bends down to kiss you again and you panic, your heart trying to leap out your stomach. "Take me home."
You sat up in bed, clutching at your chest as you struggled to gulp in air. Your hair stuck to your forehead and your skin was damp with sweat.
The dream- memory, you corrected- never ceased to do this to you and you wondered, not for the first time, if you'd ever stop reliving that night.
Pushing away the covers, you drew your knees to your chest. Even when he was nowhere near, he still managed to weasel his way into your subconscious. Damn Hargrove.
Heyy! I’ve noticed you have been inactive recently, I hope you are okay! 💖
Hey hon! I’ve been alright, college and my sports team have just kept me insanely busy and drained but soon things should calm down and I’ll be back to writing and posting 😊
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