Warnings: Bullrider!Bucky that's it, thats the warning.
Author's Note: Y'all would not imagine how long this piece has been sitting in my documents just waiting to be wrapped up and well I think I may have done it. Writing has been hard, finding a muse has been hard, but with what little comes to me I take it and run. Enjoy my sweeter than Tennessee whiskey bull-rider.
Unsure of where to go after the rodeo? Thirsty barrel was the hottest family-owned spot for great food, great music, dancing, and the greatest eight seconds of your life, or your money back.
The venue was at its peak in patrons this evening, the crowd stretching as far as your eye could see behind the packed bar where you ran drinks. This was the venues norm when the PBR was involved. The crowd a mix of rodeo goers, professional bull riders, cowboys, and the ever-eager buckle bunnies just waiting to snatch a hat off the heads of an awaiting rider.
You know the saying, wear the hat, ride the cowboy.
Well, that statement ran truer then true here.
At first you had thought the phrase to be a running joke among the cowboys who sauntered up to your bar to run you a line while asking for a refill on their drinks. Though with the fair share of men you saw dragged out by the ever-eager buckle bunny through the bar doors right before last call you had come to learn it wasn’t just a phrase.
“Can I get you anything else sugar?” You question as you sit the glass shots on the bar, flipping the liquor of her choice in your hand as you pour over each glass.
The blonde perks up curling a strand of her platinum hair around her finger as she leans up against the bar as to tell you a secret, “actually I do have one more thing, do you know what he drinks?” she questions turning her gaze over her shoulder.
Your eyes follow her movement, gaze falling on the broad-shouldered rider and his team laughing over their pints of beer you ran them earlier in the evening. You’re not surprised he’s what she’s after, he’s made quite the name for himself not only in the PBR but the thirsty barrel as well. You want to tell her to count her losses and find another cowboy, because that one just wasn’t available. You had sent many women his way and many had left his table tail tucked with no hat on their head, and one less drink in their hand. You know she was susceptible to the same fate as the many woman before her but that doesn’t stop you from pouring what you’ve come to learn is his favorite drink.
Maybe she’d finally snatch the hat.
Sliding her shots over along with the added glass you tap the bar, “here you are sugar - holler if you need anything else!”
Her smile is wide, eager as she grabs her drinks from you, “thank you!” she calls over her shoulder. You linger in the area, watching as she struts her way through the crowded floor, determination in her stride as she zeros in on the bull rider and his team.
She saddles up to the table cheerful and eager as most buckle bunnies are, the drink you’ve poured being held out to the man on everyone’s sights tonight. Your attention is short lived though as you’re pulled in by a tipsy patron asking for another round. You’re happy to oblige the pink cheeked man as you grab a chilled glass pouring the preferred choice on tap. You send him off with a sweet smile knowing he’ll saunter back with an empty glass before the hour is up.
You chance a glance back over to his booth then expectant to see the girl saddling her way into the spot next to him, but instead your eyes catch on his awaiting Cerulean blues. There’s a smirk on his pink lips, the chilled glass you just ran in his hand, hat still on his head and not a single sign of the girl you sent his way. He brings the glass up tipping it your way before bringing it to his lips, eyes never leaving yours as he takes that first sip. You want to look away but find it hard, his gaze entrancing as he watches you.
You’ve never been more thankful for the group that saunters up to your side of the bar than, their giggly group effectively breaking your gaze from his. It’s once again a short-lived moment as one of the girls who's gone pink at the cheeks asks if you can run three shots to the table just behind them, you don’t have to glance over to know what table they refer to. “Sure thing sweetheart we run drinks often to the riders, you’d like me to leave them with a message?” You question as you push their drinks out onto the bar, the one who’s gone bashful on you shakes her head, “no thank you just the drinks, and if I can get you one as well for the trouble?”
You’re cooing at her as you thank her , “it’s really no trouble for us here at all honey, we’re always running out drinks to the riders but thank you! I’ll get these over to the them shortly.”
Her group doesn’t linger as they grab their drinks going on their merry way back to the crowded open floor. You pour the three shots out, making sure to grab that extra glass just for you, you would definitely be needing this tonight.
“Leaving the bar!” you get out as you swing out from behind the area, sliding your way past patrons careful not to spill the liquor in your hands. The crowd parts for you as you come up on their booth, Sam, Steve and Bucky sit spread out deep in conversation, “hiya boys,” you greet drawing their eyes, “got a special delivery for you all courtesy of the pretty ladies at the bar” you grin hand delivering the shots to each one.
Sam and Steve thank you sweetly, “that’s awful sweet of you, thank you sweetheart and sorry for all the trouble were giving you tonight.” You wave the bearded blonde off, “s’no trouble at all Stevie, expected nothing less when it came to PBRs hottest.” You grin.
“One of these for you?” Bucky questions having taken notice of the extra shot glass in your hand. Your gaze finds his beneath the brim of his hat, “sure is, courtesy of all the trouble you’ve been giving me,” you tease him, nearly melting under the panty dropping smile he throws at you “boss lets us all have at least one when we’re riding.” You add lifting up the shot glass tilting it towards them.
Sam whistles low, “you taking on the bull tonight? You grin with a nod, “well I'll be damned, definitely going to be the thirsty barrels greatest show tonight.”
Your cheeks warm, “it’ll be the greatest eight seconds of your life or money back guaranteed Wilson.”
“Well here’s to y/n and to the greatest eight seconds!” Steve cheers bringing up his shot glass. The three of you follow suit, the liquor going down smoothly as you tip the shot glass back. Four shot glasses meet the table, a grin kissing your lips as you look over the booth of riders “well gentleman thank you for the company and the drink if you need anything else you know where to find me.” Knocking the table with your fists you turn on your heel intent on heading back to the bar but a hand wrapping around yours stops you from going farther.
Your gaze follows the hand wrapped around your wrist “need something trouble?” you question.
A smile pulls at his pink lips, his hand dropping from yours, his body slipping from the booth easily. He stands closing the distance between the two of you. You watch as the hand that held yours goes for the hat that everyone’s been chasing after. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls it off, flipping it around before letting it fall over your head, his scent encasing you. Your speechless and you know he knows if that smirk is any indication. “For your ride tonight sweetheart.”
You don’t know what comes over you, maybe it was the liquid courage from the shot you had just chased but the words are out before you can clamp your mouth shut. “You referring to the bull or yourself Barnes?”
Seems you weren’t the only one who gained courage from the shot, “both,” he answers, “though I surely plan on giving you more than eight seconds sweetheart.” Sam whistles, Steve claps the table, and Bucky waits for your response with a devilish grin.
Your tongue runs along your inner cheek, “it’s a good thing I was looking for a ride – meet me after last call.”
my take on "the hero would sacrifice you to save the world but the villain would sacrifice the world to save you" & tf141....
DARK THEMES, PLEASE BE WARNED
we all know these men are soldiers through and through. they put their lives on the line for the good of the world and they do it no questions asked.
but when it comes to you?
fuck that
there is nothing, and i mean nothing, that will stop these boys from keeping you alive and happy.
JOHN PRICE knows the power he holds. he knows the respect and fear that ranks both above and below him have for him. he knows that and he's going to abuse it when it comes to you.
you come to base and someone's bothering you? they're answering to a pissed off captain who doesn't give two shits about the morality of his punishment. as long as his love is happy, he's happy.
and who cares if he sends that idiot of a soldier into a situation where he's sure there's a good chance he won't make it out? price claims it to be "good experience". no one but him needs to know that it's more of an execution than anything
SIMON RILEY is the guard dog you never thought you'd need but boy are you glad you have him. walking places is a mindless activity knowing you have a giant of a man watching every single moving thing that enters your presence.
he was a weapon of mass destruction when he wanted to he. and when you came home crying, telling him about the store clerk who yelled at you because you tried to them that they over charged you for an item, he knew that his brute strength was needed.
and who cares if the store clerk was found outside in the alley by the shop, their face bashed in over and over and over again until they were almost unrecognizable? that's one less employ the store had to pay
JOHNNY MACTAVISH is a dedicated lover and an even more dedicated demolitionist. he's constantly showing you his silly little notebooks that are detailed with fun chemical reactions and ways to make green fire using sugar and boric acid. it's always fun to keep you entertained and a smile on your face brings a smile to his
but when you come home from work and that smile is no where to be found, he's immediately inquiring why. when you tell him about your shitty boss and the horrible way you've been treated, he's immediately pulling out his notebook and distracting you with silly chemical reactions and even putting on a small show for you to cheer you up.
and who cares if a week later your boss was found dead in his apartment, some type of untracable lethal poison infused in his coffee? you had always liked the assistant director better anyway.
KYLE GARRICK was a sweetheart through and through. he sweet talked his way into your life and you're glad you let him. his affirmations were always what you needed and when you needed. the way he'd hold you in his arms and whisper all the incredible things he saw in you never failed to warm your heart. he was observant and smart, seeing right through you and everyone else around him.
so when you had to delete a few nasty messages on social media after kyle made a post about you, he was less than pleased. he took you and your happiness very seriously. he posted you because he wanted to. he loved showing you off and he wanted the world to see how happy you made him. a few anonymous profiles weren't going to change that.
so who cares if their names, jobs, profiles, browsing history, and text messages were all exposed? the nasty information was all kyle needed to know that those men would never see the light of day again
thinking about how JOHNNY MACTAVISH loves to see you cry...
fem!reader
MINORS DNI 18+
there was nothing that turned johnny on more than seeing you cry when he made you feel good.
he saw your moans as motivation and your tears are temporary trophies.
"Johnny-fuck!"
if you didn't know any better, you'd say the man between your legs was getting off on this as much as you were.
the noises he made were obscene, lapping at your cunt as if it were a life or death situation. knowing your boyfriend, he'd probably die between your thighs and be happy about it.
you on the other hand wanted him anywhere else. he had pulled two orgasms out of you without moving from that damn spot and he was going for a third.
you reached down in between your legs, grabbing a fist full of hair and tried wrenching the man away from you. it proved futile as he was still immensely stronger than you and if he didn't wanna move, he wasn't going to move.
"quit it" he mumbled against your cunt before taking the abused nub back in his mouth and playing with it like it was candy.
your back arched as he moved his thumb right above your clit, pulling back the foreskin so he could lap directly onto the little nub.
the noise that left your mouth was almost inhuman, but so was the man between your legs.
you could feel a third orgasm threatening to break through, your grip on reality loosening as your grip on johnny's hair tightened.
the man below you could feel your cunt spasming around his tongue, begging for release.
and who was he to deny you?
"johnny, johnny i'm gonna cum" you babbled, the coil in your stomach tightening more and more until it snapped, you back arching like a broken board as you shoved your hips into his mouth
"FUCK!" you cried out as you rode out your orgasm, grinding down on johnny's face until you pulled back from overstimulation.
this time, johnny let you move, pulling back to admire the mess he'd made. a sadistic grin spread across his face as he looked down at you.
his sweet bonnie, all fucked out from just his tongue. he loved you through and through and in all stages of your life but this?
thinking about SIMON RILEY who has no idea how to say no to you and really doesnt want to
you want one of his sweaters? it's yours
you wanna put hair clips in his hair? he's asking you which ones
you wanna go somewhere? he's already buying a ticket or loading up his truck
this is how i personally see things playing out...
"Si! come see this!" you were scrolling through pinterest when you saw a couch that was too good to be true. it was huge, more than big enough to accommodate your 6'2 giant of a boyfriend.
there was nothing inherently wrong with your couch, but you'd be lying if you weren't scared of the framing breaking whenever simon sat down in with all the momentum in the world.
you tilted your head back when you felt a presence looming over you. you excitedly showed him your phone, images of the couch on the screen.
"look at this, it has extra padding and extra bracing at the bottom." you explain, showing him the details of your current find.
he let out a small hum of acknowledgement, gently taking your phone from you.
you had done this enough times to know what he was doing. he was memorizing the product name, the company, probably estimating the delivery time too.
when he handed you back your phone and placed a small kiss on the top of your head before walking away, you smiled to yourself knowing you'd have a new couch by the end of next week.
ultimately, he's pretty much your sugar daddy, boyfriend, and personal plaything all in one
thinking about JOHN PRICE with a "no, i can do it myself" partner
"honey, where's the toolbox?"
john's head never snapped up so fast. now what the hell do you need the toolbox for?
"uh... it's out in the garage, why?"
"thank you!"
you were gone before he could ask. his curiosity (and pride) got the better of him. he could already hear your voice in his head, 'honey, i can do it myself, it's not that hard'
he nearly collided with you as you both turned the corner at the same time. "whoa there love, where you off to in a such a hurry?"
"oh, one the hinges on the bathroom door started coming loose, just gonna fix it real quick" you said casually, getting ready to side step him and escape his gaze.
you proved not to be so lucky, as the second you moved, so did john.
"now love, why didn't you tell me? could've fixed it myself" john mumbled, his hands sliding around your waist, his way of not so subtly trapping you until you gave in.
it took everything in you not to roll your eyes. john was a giver, you knew that coming into this relationship. you also knew how pouty (as much as he denied it) he'd get if you refused to let him do things for you.
john reached for the toolbox but you pulled it back, causing him to raise an eyebrow, challenging you. you gave him a knowing smile. "honey, listen to me. all i'm doing is tightening a screw, that's it."
it was john's turn to fight the eye roll. "i know, but, i could just do it for you. where's the harm in that?" an innocent look graced his face as he asked you. he knew you were stubborn, but he wasn't gonna lose this one. not again
"okay how bout this" you start. "you let me do this-"
"no"
you gave him a deadpan look before continuing. "and i'll let you take care of everything else until your next deployment" you try and bargain.
john looks at you, his eyes narrowing in scepticism.
"you're lying" his declaration causes you to shrug.
"guess you'll just have to follow through and find out." you sang as you slipped out of his grasp.
john sighed and shook his head with a smile as he watched you walk away. you were stubborn but he loved it. he loved you and your "do it yourself attitude".
currently trying to get back into writing but i'm also thinking about JOHN PRICE who makes you thank him for overstimulating you...
MINORS DNI 18+
"you can give me another one, can't you lovie?"
the innocence in his voice was a stark contrast to the lewd sounds he was pulling from your body. his fingers moving with a precision you still had yet to understand how he managed even after wringing 3 orgasms out of you.
you shake your head. "nononono please-"
"why're you tellin' me no? you should be thanking me for making you feel good." the gruff amusement in his voice was playing tricks on your brain.
thanking him? why the fuck should you be thanking him?
he continues as if he read your mind, his fingers not stopping. "i made you cum three times and you're telling me no?" he tuts, a frown of disappointment gracing his face. "that's not what i taught you, now is it?"
as if to emphasize his point, his fingers began to strum that spot inside you that made you see stars.
"say thank you lovie"
"wait-"
you could hardly think, let alone talk. but a hand around your throat brought you back to the present.
"say it." he growls, his fingers moving faster then your foggy brain could comprehend.
"thank you!" you squeak, not knowing what else to say.
was there anything else you could say?
"for?" his hand around your throat tightens slightly.
"f-for making me cum." you blubber, feeling your orgasm approach while the air in your body dissipates.
you can see the smirk creep onto his face, clearly pleased with your words.
warnings: cursing, abusive parents, dysfunctional relationships, toxic lovers, romanticism of toxic character. borderline NSFW because sex is a part of relationships (and this is Billy we're talking about, so...) please proceed maturely.
• strap in - let's fucking GOOOOOOOOO
• this boy is something else, okay? he's like nobody you've ever met, anyone you've ever dated - he's unlike anybody in this small town that you've grown up in your whole life.
• he's a Cali boy - he even smells like trouble!
• oh, but Billy Boy isn't all that meets the eye. he's complex, he's damaged, he's confused, he's harboring a lot of anger and resentment.
• his mom's been gone and out of the picture for so long, one might worry he's taken on a harmful view towards women. however, that's not the case at all.
• you meet on his first day of school - i know, i know, how cliche, right? only it was completely unavoidable. you were a star student, all right? your grades weren't stellar but they weren't bad; you tested decently well; maybe you played a sport and had a club or two you attended.
• it makes you the perfect student for the guidance counselor to select "randomly" to help show the new kid around.
• he's not very warm when you first meet. he's got this look in his eye and they way he totally shmoozed Miss McKenna (the principals own middle aged assistant) was enough to make your mind throw up multiple red flags.
• so you show him around. answer a few questions but when he tries to get personal, maybe asking what you were doing after school, you insist the tour's over and he could find his way from there.
• you don't give him a second glance as you leave him alone in the hallway and Billy's lips are pulling in a smirk.
• he was unlike anyone you knew - but you were the exact breath of fresh air Billy needed.
• so, he pines. poor baby doesn't know what to do when a girl isn't melting on the spot when he looks at her. in fact, he's not seen you or spoken to you since you showed him around.
• drives him a little crazy but he's fine. because eventually, he finds you one day, after school, looking distraught. it's obvious you want to be alone based on your location and Billy's never been the comforting type, all right?
• doesn't stop him from approaching you and silently taking the seat on the pavement beside you. he doesn't speak. just lights a cigarette and hands it to you before lighting one for himself. the silence prolongs until you break it.
• "what're you doing here?" you sniffled, trying to hide the emotion you felt.
• and Billy would shrug, "just hangin'. looked like you could've used some company."
• you're vulnerable, so, you admit you're waiting for your father and when you mention you don't have the best relationship, he goes rigid with understanding and empathy.
• an emotion he's NOT accustomed to.
• he learns your father and mother divorced years ago and he's been in and out of your life since. however, he called that morning and begged to pick you up from school so you could have some 'father-daughter time'... yet here you were, tears in your eyes, waiting on a man who wouldn't show.
• Billy offers you a ride home and finds he enjoys your banter so much, he offers to drive you home the next day.
• you're a little suspicious but he doesn't make a single move. he just drives you home after school, both of you lost in some ridiculous conversation that you're not even sure how it started.
• it then turns into him picking you up before school, too. just for a little extra time together.
• oh, and then, he was coming to your house on the weekends.
• he didn't mind you fussing in his hair if it meant he could light a joint and relax without the fear of his father.
• in fact, Billy becomes so dependent on you and the escape your presence provides him that he keeps a small duffel bag full of clothes in your closet. for emergencies, you know?
• and there are a few emergencies, sure. you're pretty used to him crashing a night there. you'll wash the dirty clothes he leaves and put them in the duffel after for next time.
• again, he's a Cali boy so he smokes. and he'll be really critical of the weed in Hawkins 'cause he's used to 'good shit'.
• but considering the small town, he takes what he can get.
• you have a lot of open, honest, vulnerable conversations when smoking because both of your filters will go down.
• he doesn't realize it until later but those are the moments he's opening himself up to you most in. while scary, he feels something akin to relief and gratitude to have someone to share parts of himself with.
• your friendship starts off innocent; just two people hanging out, cracking jokes, complaining about their home life. but it changes around December.
• you become close to Max - it's almost impossible not to. you're fond of Billy and would do what you could to help take him away from the pain of his father, but Max didn't really have anyone.
• until the party adopted her, but outside that, she got used to seeing you around a lot. and no, you never minded when she'd ask for your help on something; be it boys, school, friends, or her skateboard.
• you and Max bond by her teaching you to skate. and Billy won't admit it, but his heart felt ten times lighter the day he looked out the window and saw your hands clasped in Max's, rolling on her board, both of you laughing so hysterically, it made you fall to the grass.
• the laughter didn't end for the rest of the day, and Max wondered if this was what a sister felt like.
• in December, you accept to help her get ready for the Snowball Dance! precious babies!
• you bring a whole suitcase full of clothes, a tote bag of shoes, make-up, and hair accessories. and of course, a few magazines for references.
• when Billy opens the door, he smirks as he takes in your baggage, "movin' in, princess?"
• he reaches to take the tote bag off your shoulder so you wouldn't carry the weight.
• but Max is there, nudging him out of the way, "she's here for me."
• when Billy's puppy-eyes turn to you, you can't help but sigh lightly and hand Max the wheeling suitcase. she dashes back for her room and you stand in front of Billy, hands flattened against his waist as you tease lightly, "you're gonna have to share me, you know."
• his eyes would roll lightly, "says who?"
• "behave," you chuckled, moving to help Susan get Max ready. and by the end of the night, you're waving the redhead off with Billy's arm slung around your shoulders. "see what happens when you're patient?"
• Susan and Neil dropped Max off before going on their own date, meaning you and Billy were home alone.
• you might've felt nervous but he never pressured you. instead, he seemed a little more tender as the holidays drew on and you had a sneaking suspicion he was mourning the life, and family, he knew before.
• so, what do you do? you're pulling ingredients out in his kitchen and insisting he helps you make a batch of cookies. the radio is flicked on and Christmas carols ring around the room.
• he's not good at baking but he laughs more in those two hours than he had in a full week. his eyes get soft and he might even act on the way his heart feels vulnerable, pulling you in for a slow dance around the kitchen.
• snow MIGHT even start to fall outside, marking this as your very own Snowball Dance.
• Billy kisses you that night, your lips tasting like the batter your finger had taken a dollop of. it's a searing kind of kiss, the one that feels like a long time coming - finally arriving and making your body explode with pinpricks of hormones.
• needless to say, you two were joined at the hip from that day on. Neil wasn't the biggest fan of you because you were just so fucking nice - it confused him what you saw in Billy.
• but you saw all the best parts of him, despite Neil's conditioning to showcase the worst.
• so, you're dating now, right? beautiful. doesn't mean it's perfect, okay? Billy's still a little bent outta shape that he requires time and understanding.
• he's doing his best, okay?
• he curses, like, a lot. at you, near you, in reference to you. but he’ll never resort to cheap ploys and will always comes to your defense if someone’s out of line.
• big fan of the whole ‘total dickhead to everyone except so-and-so’. cause that’s you and Billy.
• but when Billy's your boyfriend, oh, lord! get ready for the PDA 'cause he's chomping at the bit to touch you every moment.
• it shocks you to learn physical touch is his love language, what with the way Neil abuses him; you'd assumed touch might trigger him.
• but Billy explains to you that your touch could never hurt him and he relishes in the warmth your hands provide. instead of the fear Neil instilled, your touch gave comfort. warmth. hope, and peace.
• so, you run with that information. walking around the mall? your hands are conjoined or an arm is around someone's waist. at school? your hand might stray to run through his curls in the cafeteria, earning his attention. grocery store? boy's got his hands around your waist, or somewhere near your neck, while you push the cart lazily up and down the aisles.
• yes, yes, yes, Billy comes to you when anything goes wrong. he's never been like that, he doesn't understand why now, all of a sudden when he's overwhelmed, he's sneaking out and running to your house. but you're a safety net for him, and you wipe his tears; how can he not feel safe with you?
• your mom don't like him 'cause she's heard all the rumors. she even once belonged to Karen Wheeler's bookclub but left it because all the middle aged ladies were talking about her daughter's boyfriend hyper-sexually.
• she had a hard time looking Billy in the eye after that.
• it makes your mom a bit uneasy. but she respects your wishes and your want to be in a relationship. so, life carries on with a few back handed or passive aggressive comments.
• you don't like the smell of cigarettes so he won't smoke around you. you know it's a hard habit to kick and sometimes he'll ask if it's okay, but he'll definitely refrain from smoking cigarettes around you.
• he might even start to feel a little insecure and leaves an extra shirt in the trunk of his car to change into so that your nose isn't pressed right against the smoke-filled fabric.
• Billy's a big ass baby, man. look, he's a total sucker for not doing shit; throwing a movie on and literally laying on top of you. one of your hands would run through his hair as the other caressed the skin of his neck and cheek. one leg laid flat along his as the other bends to lean against his hip and keep him cocooned in your love.
• he'll often fall asleep like that. big ass baby. God, i love him.
• loves when you play with his hair. you're the only one he allows - no, i'm serious! others have tried, others really want to, but Billy never let them. until you and then it felt like your hands belonged in his silky tresses.
• don't get me started on Billy being protective. cause that's his whole thing, okay?
• shit, got me started. look, so, Billy gives a WHOLE new meaning to being protective. he's defending you against anyone - even his own father - because nobody talks shit about you.
• he's been handed a few beatings by Neil for raising his voice in defense of you.
• but he says he'd do it again and again. nobody got to say a single word he didn't like about you. girls in the locker rooms? yeah, all that gossip stopped after Billy confronted the cheer captain before Chrissy.
• few boys at a party looking at you like you're a piece of meat? oh, look! a heavy arm is slinging around your shoulders to turn you; a hand gripping you cheeks to pull you in for a bruising kiss. due to the intensity, you know he's staking his claim; sliding your tongue into his mouth as distraction.
• does the trick because he's groaning when you pull back. his hand's on your ass, telling anyone watching who you belonged to.
• he'll approach those dudes later and growl, "i catch you lookin' at my girl again, it'll be the last time you have eyes."
• is it aggressive? yes, but so is Billy, and so is his determination to protect you. he doesn't always know the best way to do that but he's figuring it out as he goes.
• you often have talks about his protectiveness but you understand he's very unsure how to go about all of this, so, you both take it in stride. if he catches your glare when he's acting up, he'll begrudgingly back down but that's okay. why? 'cause you're taking his hand and pulling you both away from whatever situation set him off.
• and he's a sweetheart when he wants to be. baby boy can't stand to see your tears, so, if you start to cry, every defense he has is dropping.
• he's been the reason for your tears a few times and he's gutted by the idea. so, you see the progress he makes in avoiding previous issues to avoid your tears.
• communication's difficult for Billy but he tries, only for you. he knows you can't read his mind and he needs to verbalize his needs; maybe doing it a little roughly but he was doing it at least. and practice makes perfect, so, it's fine.
• because your relationship is a partnership that you both have equal stake in. your job isn't to judge, but to encourage.
• but you also get him to open up communication with Max and Susan - since Neil is a lost cause.
• you've never seen Neil physically strike Billy but you've heard the yelling and you've heard the impact of a few slaps from your place in Billy's bedroom and theirs from the kitchen.
• on those days, Billy's darting back into his room and closing the door before leaning against it. his cheek's red and swelling slightly, making you stand in worry. but your movement shakes him from his thoughts and he's sniffling, "get your things, sweet girl, we're heading out."
• "where?"
• "anywhere that isn't here. i can't have you here when he's riled up like that, we gotta go."
• always protecting you.
• ayo, y’all know that medallion he wears? well guess what? he placed it around your neck and claims it’ll protect you when he can’t. he wants to see it on you. my fucking HEART.
• Billy comes to you for any academic help. he doesn't give a single fuck about school, didn't even bring a pencil his first week. but he doesn't want to flunk out and repeat so he puts in just enough effort.
• sometimes, it's not enough and he's coming to you to help proofread his essay to ensure he got at least a 75% to weigh his grade to passing.
• he gets an 88% and fucks you into the mattress.
• you're a lot more inclined to help him with homework after that.
• he's a private person. so, even if you're left in his room while he showers or goes to handle whatever Neil's yelling about, you're not able to see many personal things. everything's hidden and you're not about to snoop through his shit.
• eventually, after a particularly hard day, he's holding you in his arms, on his bed, and then reaching for a wooden box under it. inside are pictures and memorabilia, explaining he hid it so Neil couldn't weaponize it against him.
• and in front of your eyes, he takes a polaroid photo of you two and places it in the box for safekeeping. "because i treasure you, my sweet girl," he'd whisper. "don't want anyone taking this from me."
• heart melts.
• Billy dominates you. like clockwork.
but y'all ever see Game of Thrones and Khaleesi rides Khal Drogo for the first time? he comes in ready to dominate her and she's like nah, l got this and rides him to oblivion?
• think THAT but with Billy.
• he'll want you to be a plaything one day, but the next, he's mewling like a bitch in heat while you ride him. he'll even let your hand wrap around his throat when you're on top.
• he won't admit he likes it but you can tell.
• Billy likes telling you how pretty you are. you get all flustered and he adores it, finding it funny that he'll be balls deep in you, telling you all kinds of profane things he wanted to do to your pussy and you'll just eat it up - but the moment he tells you you're beautiful, you're all embarrassed like a school girl.
• spurs the nickname "pretty girl". he'll call you other pet names, too, but he'll always resort back to "pretty" or "sweet girl".
• big sucker for the troupe, 'never calling you your government name unless angry' cause that's Billy. like 100%. he won't call you your name unless angry (at you) or trying to be serious. meaning it's always a pet name rolling off his tongue.
• HA! good luck trying to leave Billy without a kiss goodbye. it does NOT matter if you literally run up to him because you forgot your chapstick in his jacket pocket and have to get back to practice - he's pulling you in for a kiss before you leave. going to work? where's his kiss, huh? oh, you thought you were getting out of this car without a kiss? that's illegal. the toll tax is now three kisses.
• the boy melts when you kiss him and your hand will hold his cheek. so simple but so intimate for him.
• and when cuddling, he's a big fan of feeling your nails against his skin and scalp. he even likes it when you trace over his face with a fingertip, leaning in to peck his lips quickly before huddling back under his chin.
• Billy often wonders what he did to deserve you - often comes up with jackshit.
• he says he loves you first but it starts as a fight. probably over something stupid, like Tommy H. hitting on you in calculus, but it'll snowball out of control because he's scared of what he's feeling, and over the very idea that someone could take you from him.
• when Billy's scared, fight or flight kicks in and his natural instinct is to fight then flee. so, he'll pick at scabs and old wounds to make them bleed so you won't try to stop him when he leaves.
• but you've been around long enough to know how he ticks.
• the conversation will be instigated by you, begging him to tell you the fucking truth, and he's shouting, "because I'm in love with you, for fuck's sake!"
• mmmmh, yeah, you get fucked on the couch that night because you can't make it to his room. thankfully, nobody was home because y'all are like frantic rabbits going at it. and when you're on top that night, you tell him, "i love you too," against his lips; that fucking hand holding against his cheek.
• he goes a little feral and will wrap his arms around your waist to hold you in position before jackhammering his hips up into yours. growling, sweating, just desperate to be as physically close to one another as possible.
• he wants to hear you say you love him all the time now. Billy needs a lot of reassurance and you've plenty to give. he'll make it a point to remind you he loves you even when in a fight - the very idea of you thinking he didn't anymore enough to make him want to tug his hair out.
• baby boy feels like his mother didn't know / hear how much he loved her, and that's why she easily left him behind. so, he'll be damned if he lets you think the same thing.
• don't try the whole words of affirmation shit because it'll literally always end in a fight. some abusive conditioning can't be changed.
• doesn't mean you let Billy forget his value. and oh, fuck, is he grateful for you. he's insecure under all that bravado and telling him you see his value is almost as good as hearing you loved him.
• in public, he's usually whispering in your ear some shitty joke. arm around your neck and shoulders. just happy to be near each other and never once giving a fuck about PDA.
• you never touch a door, you hear me? never. Billy opens all doors, even if he's pissed off.
speaking of -
• nobody angers him like you, because you're so close.
• but also, nobody can bring Billy back to reality like you can.
• he stops beating people up because he worries about your opinion of him; and he never wants to give you reason to be afraid of him.
• but when angry, he's loud. he throws shit. he'll curse and when overwhelmed, he'll cry and break down in earnest confusion.
• his anger takes over and makes his heart feel heavy; but after the initial storm cloud, he's vulnerable and stripped bare of his defenses as you're cuddling him close.
• Billy tells you he doesn't like to be so angry and he's trying to find other outlets.
• and you assure him that it's okay to feel overwhelmed and like he's gonna blow his top off. it's okay to have emotion, and it's okay to not know what to do with it.
• fuck and that smile? man, he's got you like putty in his hands when he flashes that blinding smile.
• it's cool though 'cause he's totally whipped and if you pout, he's going to get whatever you asked him for. baby boy's a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, making it your secret weapon. you don't use it often but when you do, Billy swears his heart beat stops and speeds up all at the same time.
• he really likes kissing you. if you're not in the mood to fuck, you're tired, stressed, whatever, he's fine with it as long as you're game for a little make out session. honestly? you're never not game.
• Billy's a big cuddler but never in front of people, only ever in private.
• but he's very proud to be your man so he looks for any reason to touch you. it's a sense of both protectiveness and possession; daring anyone to come and relinquish his claim so he might have reason to beat the shit outta one of these punks looking at his girl.
• or so his brain tells him. he's much more even tempered with you but every now and then, old habits flare up, and it's up to you to safely defuse the time bomb that is Billy's anger.
• Billy often doesn't feel worthy of you, so, he'll start fights. you're quick to shut it down.
• and when it's good, it's really good.
• boy will bring you flowers because it makes him feel like he's doing at least something right. and the way your lips will spread in a beaming smile has him making a mental note to pick up another bouquet sometime soon.
• picnics. i know, he doesn't seem the type, you thought so as well. but it's solitary for you both; peaceful and away from the crazy shit going on in town. besides, when he's with you, he's not looking at anyone or wondering about their opinion - his focus is 110% on you.
• which means he can read your body language like he's fluent. nervous ticks? he knows 'em. gotta pee? he can tell. feeling some pent up sexual frustration? he's not sure how it's possible but he knows what's going on, and he's taking action.
• he knows your birthday and anniversary too, so, he's always prepared. never before had he cared about ANY of that - but then you happened, and it all changed.
• ugh - changing Billy's attitude around. he's not so much of a dickhead once he starts dating you. everyone at school notices it.
• he's stupid sweet and gentle with you. he'll stand at your locker and curl your hair behind both ears as you talk; completely focused on all that you are.
• rejects other girls (harshly) because he's enamored with you. and he doesn't like people hitting on him when they know he's with you, it feels like blatant disrespect.
• forehead kisses like a motherfucker.
• Billy telling you you're the calm he needs in life.
• he's adores you, kinda thing. you can do no wrong, kinda thing.
• he pulls you into his lap a lot. again, PDA ain't no worry to him. just no cuddling... but hanging on his lap with an arm around his shoulders is A-OK.
• in fact, he takes it a few steps farther and sees where the most public place you two can have sex is.
• so far, the movie theater was it but that was complicated and not a whole lot of fun considering you were freaked out the whole time.
• but you made it up to him by taking him up the water tower and going three rounds.
• sex is a staple in any relationship, okay? but Billy's never pressured you and always lets you drive the situation. he honestly likes spending time with you, so, if you don't fuck, he doesn't care.
• only your boyfriend is stupid hot and you look for reasons to jump his bones. mmh...
• and when he's feeling randy and wanting to dominate - LORD! the way that boy makes you feel should be borderline illegal. his touches like hot rocks against your skin; kisses from pillowy lips that tasted suspiciously like your chapstick; tongue sweeping over your neck and making your mind go a little fuzzy.
• you go with him on his 18th to get his skull tattoo. you make a joke about getting a matching one but he's really turned on by the idea. you consider it for a few months.
• maybe you do it, maybe not. but you do get a tattoo and Billy's almost humping the air when he sees it.
• nope, he's not letting you paint his nails but he'll give you his opinion on colors. in fact, he'll catch a little bit of an attitude when he notices the once cherry red color of your fingernails has turned into a midnight blue, asking, "your other boyfriend like this color?"
• "baby, i can pick out my nail color."
• "just usually ask me my opinion," he'd huffed.
• you ask him before you change it now.
• matching his and her sunglasses.
• listen to me: nobody touches a fucking thing in Billy's Camaro. okay? but for you... yeah, okay, he's actually okay with you changing the radio station. and adjusting the temperature in the car. and sure, he'd probably kick anyone else out if they tried this, but he actually smiles when your feet escape your shoes to curl under you in his passenger seat.
• you're the only person he trusts to drive his car, too. doesn't happen often but twice now, he'd gotten shitfaced at a party and it was your responsibility to get you both home.
• clingy drunk Billy. might even fuck around and pout at you. Definitely just wants you to lay with him, touch him, be close to him.
• he's not used to being loved so it's a learning experience for you both. but when his head is nestled between your shoulder and neck, breathing in your scent while a hand lazily traces along your belly, there's nothing he'd rather do than this life with you.
• you're the calm, he's the fury. you're the eye, he's the storm. you're the soft and smooth, he's the rough and jagged. but i'll be damned if this relationship isn't exactly what he needs.
• you're unyielding in your love and affection, and he's silently thanking God as you lay in his arms. his eyes might even well with unshed tears as he thinks over in his head every reason he doesn't deserve you, but every reason he'll selfishly keep you.
• oof, but Billy operates on a short fuse so when he's feeling touchy, you have to tread carefully. due to how close you guys are, you're usually the first line of defense he takes his irritation out on and that results in you ignoring him for days.
• but Billy's full of remorse; knowing Neil made him feel like shit and it wasn't fair to in turn take it out on you, just so you'd feel the same. so, he's going to Max for advice.
• i know, holy shit, right? it's just, he's not used to fucking shit up and then wanting to fix it - he usually just runs. but he's tired of running, so, he asks Max to help.
• and Max loves you and thinks Billy's a different person since meeting and dating you, so, she agrees. and the Hargrove / Mayfield siblings are concocting some plan.
• turns out, he doesn't need a big plan - he just needs honesty. he'll get you your favorite flowers and crawl up the oak tree in your yard, balance himself, and knock on your window.
• '80s parents and guardians are oblivious, so, nobody hears him sneaking in and out almost every other night. call that child safety.
• but it's been 3 WHOLE days since he's seen or kissed you, and poor baby is going a little crazy. he'll present the flowers and crawl into your bed, the pair of you dedicating that moment to talk about what happened and how to avoid it in the future.
• and Billy might let a tear or two fall, asking, "why do you forgive me so easily?"
• "because i can see you're genuinely upset by this, baby," you'd sighed, pushing a few curls from his forehead. "but that doesn't mean this can continue. you've gotta do better, baby, please."
• "for you? anything."
• "do it for the both of us, hmm?"
• it's not all sunshine and rainbows when loving a complicated man, and i can't even say it'll be worth the inevitable uphill battle. but it's definitely a love for the ages and you wouldn't want anyone else.
• only guy who's ever made you squirt and he's very proud of that. it's now a personal mission of his to see how many orgasms he can coax from you in a single night. current record: seven. yeah, that boy wants to be soaked, wow. absolutely mesmerized by you when he gets this kind of physical reaction.
• he's always proud of you, too.
• if you're a cheerleader, he's picking you up in his arms and telling you how flawless your routine was (even if you know there was a few missteps).
• if you're an athlete, best believe he's at every single game just to cheer you on. he might even keep record of your stats.
• you passed that stupid hard final in your AP History class? you're literally rushing down the hall, spying Billy, and when he sees you coming with a grin and that fucking packet clutched in your hands, he's stooping low to catch you in his embrace and spin you around, "aha! my smart girl! i knew you'd do fine. you were worrying for nothin', huh? that's my girl."
• and when he calls you 'his girl', your stomach's in a flurry of butterflies no matter how often you hear it.
• you have a deal that you can't call him this in public but he doesn't all the way hate when you call him 'baby boy'.
hmmm, maybe i'm projecting...
• Billy talks about taking you to Cali with him. and you go visit his grandparents during spring break.
• when i say they adore you, i'm talking they fucking adore you to the point they're asking 18 year-old Billy when he's gonna pop the question.
• makes him choke a little out of surprise but recovers, "soon. you'll be the first to know when it happens."
• you can't help but joke, "wouldn't i know first?"
• "nah, i'd tell them before asking you," Billy smirked, nodding at his grandparents across the table.
• he's just so fucking different when in a good, loving, healthy relationship. he's toxic as fuck - we know - but he can recognize his wrongdoings and attempt to rectify them.
• he's constantly offering you compliments about anything.
• "God, you look adorable in that skirt - c'mere."
• "damn, baby, i didn't know Playboy was lookin' for new models."
• "you forreal wrote this essay? baby, this is really well done."
• "hey, superstar."
• mmh, breakfast dates are his favorite. breakfast foods are his favorite, so, you've gotten in a rhythm to cook for him on the weekend mornings.
• oof, wait! the dates! he's broke as shit, cool. but he can make anything an interesting time by just being there.
• so, you go to a lot of parties together but usually duck out with a handle of vodka to head for the quarry overlook. he likes to hang out there, laid back on the hood of his car, looking up into the vast nothingness of the universe while contemplating life.
• Billy's a deeper than we give him credit for. again, it's all hidden under a mask of indifference and dickheadedness, but it's there!
• nature hikes 'cause ain't sit else to do in this small town!
• he'll take you to concerts out of town; diners; long drives; fairs in the summer; he might've even arranged with his neighbor to let you guys in their backyard to hang out with the litter of puppies their dog just had.
• honestly, anything he can think of to make you smile, Billy's finding some way to make it happen.
• trust and believe you can handle his anger and outbursts. you don't shut down, you stand strong while rationally, logically trying to navigate his feelings. when he crosses a line, you'll end the conversation and walk away because he needs time to cool off.
• you're usually very forgiving but not always with Billy - who needs to learn there's often consequences to actions and words.
• hard lesson to learn but he's an avid student.
• Billy offering massages. his hands are Godly and you never refuse.
• might sound really out of character, but he's a fucking professional at handling your period. know how he keeps a duffel at your place? he's got one for you, too, at his. but it's period supplies so you never got a moment worrying about it.
• he'll pour some rice in a sock, tie it up, heat it for a minute or so, and lay it against your lower stomach before crawling into bed with you. sometimes, cramps might make you curl up a little in pain, but Billy's there to get you pain killers, water, snacks if you want them, but especially just to hold you.
• and he'll tell you he read some article in a magazine about how sex is supposed to help with period pains and cramps. what a horndog, you know? don't tell him, but it helps.
• Billy's an ass man. i wish i could explain it but if you get it, you get it. if you don't, that's okay. 'cause he's been known to be titty guy but it's your ass, man. Billy Boy loses rational thought when his hands are all over you.
• he gets you new earrings because you often accessorize your outfits with them. it was a fun yet subtle way to show off originality and Billy finds himself looking through a few jewelry kiosks at the mall.
• you cannot convince me otherwise that Billy doesn't get you a necklace with his name on it. i won't hear it 'cause he's definitely the type to, okay?
• his leather jacket is your favorite because it's oversized and has a musky undertone to the usual smell of his cologne. he knows this and will drop it over your shoulders without needing to ask if you're cold.
• but hey - you're a big fan of wearing your man's clothes, okay?
• he'll come pick you up for school and see you walking out in one of his shirts and have to swallow from the way his mouth salivates.
• finding empty classrooms during lunch or study hall to fuck in.
• Billy doesn't understand 'aftercare' until you. he'll stand from the bed to light a cigarette and tug his boxers on, peaking over at you and noting the way your legs trembled. he'd realize and grab his shirt to clean you up before laying right back beside you.
• "did i hurt you?"
• "no, i'm okay," you'd assure; the feeling of his bare skin on yours something close to Heaven on earth. and the way his finger tips would drag over your bare body, unsure of the patterns he's drawing; but sinking further into his embrace? yeah - God sent.
• while you don't often fight, if you piss him off, he's a loose canon. you remind yourself he's feeling defensive and like he has to lash out, trying not to take things to heart. but he's still Billy, still a dickhead, and he's still going for the jugular.
• he won't look at you for days. won't pick you up, drop you home, give your flowers, kiss you, won't even fucking acknowledge you.
• fuck, it hurts.
• but he's the one then showing up one morning outside your house as you get your shoes on to catch the bus.
• knowing he was over his initial irritation, you'll cautiously approach the car as he gets out.
• "here to insult me a bit more?"
• and his hand is running through his hair, eyes sad and downcast, ringed with red to indicate unrest and emotional turmoil.
• "i'm so fucking sorry, baby, i really am."
• here's the thing - Billy doesn't know how to apologize. he doesn't do it often to anyone, so, the words never really formed naturally on his tongue.
• but with you, he's on the verge of panicked tears as he's word vomiting to you how sorry he is. he'd never stutters over his apology to you because you're the only person he considers worthy of his genuine remorse.
• and you definitely punish him by making him hang out with you, Max, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley and the other party members.
• no, you don't get him to play D&D with them - mostly because Max warned them not even to mention it.
• but he's a good sport and will let the kids get in his car, the others in Steve's, and might take them to the pool despite being off for the day. only because he knows he has to make it up to you.
• look, he's got some flaws, okay? but Billy definitely tries his best when it involves something he's genuinely interested in. you're the first person in X number of years to warrant this kind of feeling in him, so, he's adamant on keeping this love.
To the fanfiction readers, the late night scrollers, the ones who are trying to escape, to find a moment of peace, to find comfort or a safe place to land.
You're safe here. You are safe, you are loved and you are important. The world needs you and my dear sweet one, I promise you it will get better. Maybe not today or tomorrow but it will get better. People love you and are here for you.
You are valid, you are enough. I promise you that you are enough.
So take a deep breath and relax a little for me. I hope you find the fan art or the fanfiction you need. I hope you find comfort and safety here. I hope you know you're favorite character is waiting for you, they adore you and are so excited to see you.
You can do this sweet one. Life is tough but so are you. Your comfort character believes in you and so do I, the random girl on Tumblr who knows it gets better, because it did for her.
warnings: swearing, anxiety, anxious habits (lip picking), mentions of blood, reader has family struggles to work through, insecurities (brief mention of weight/looks), vulnerability, mentions of alcohol drinking, fluff
a/n: hi! this is meant to be some holiday season comfort. i know that spending time with family can be hard, or stressful, or annoying, and i'm struggling with it, so i wanted to *hopefully* provide you with some support if you're feeling any of this!! this was very self-indulgent, but i hope that maybe you'll like it. i love you all. <333 (also please come back to this gif when you're done. i imagine this is how he's looking at you.)
————
"What's the matter?"
Billy's hand slid into yours, palm warm and audibly rough. He was sat on the couch next to you, where you hadn't realized he was paying you any attention.
Your leg was bouncing up a storm, a constant shake. On top of that, your middle finger and thumb were picking at the skin of your bottom lip.
He was sure you'd drawn blood by now, considering the way your eyes fluttered shut when you ran your tongue along the fragile skin.
You were no stranger to these feelings, shit, they'd become all you knew. And Billy wasn't either. He'd been anxious his whole life, so he knew when you were feeling that way too, no matter how much you tried to keep it to yourself.
You looked down at his hand in yours before pulling your fingers away from your lips and sitting on them. Busted.
"Just really don't wanna see them today."
"I know, baby."
He squeezed your hand.
Your home life hadn't been anything like Billy's, and while you were grateful that it hadn't been that hard, that's not to say it wasn't at all. Not to say your parents hadn't made you feel less than sometimes, hadn't listened to you, or hadn't made you feel like a burden.
Billy understood what that felt like. "Shared trauma" and all that.
Outside a few visits with Susan, mainly because he loved Max, and Max did have a present mother (even if she wasn't the best), unlike himself, that was it for Billy's "family" interactions. He didn't see Neil anymore at all. You and Max were the extent of his real family, and he liked it that way.
So when you had to see your family, your parents and aunts and uncles and all that extended bullshit, the few times you couldn't get away with—like during the holidays—he tried to be there for you. He wanted to be there for you.
Billy let go of your hand, moved away from you. You watched as he settled against the arm of the couch, stretching his legs out and spreading them wide. He held his arms aloft. "C'mere."
You did, wiggling into the space he'd left for you, back to his chest, arms resting on his thick thighs. He closed his legs a little, trapping you in his space, keeping you safe. That's how it felt when you sat like this. Like nothing bad could happen since he was right there.
Billy's chin came to rest on the top of your head, hands rubbing at your shoulders, gently messing with your hair. "You wanna talk about it? What exactly it is that's buggin' you about seeing them?"
You slid down further in his lap, and Billy wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from completely escaping him.
"It's just that...they've always got something to say. About my weight, or my hair, or what I'm wearing, or i-if i talk too loud."
That one struck a nerve for Billy. He knew that when you got excited about something, you tended to get a little louder. It was a side effect of you being happy. He loved it and it had never bothered him. Knowing that you'd been shutting those things off because of your family hurt him.
"If I don't talk enough, if I'm too quiet," you continued.
Billy hummed in acknowledgment, signaling to you to keep going. His hands rubbed at the soft skin of your tummy, kneading at the fat there, comforting you.
"And they ask me these surface level questions, you know? Like fucking small talk, like we aren't family and they don't know me. It'd just be nice to have them ask about my real life, especially when I have to listen to them blab about their endeavors all the time."
"What are you studying? How are you feeling? What are you into? Anything would be nice. I just feel like a stranger when I'm there. And half the time it's like they forget I'm even there. Sometimes I think that genuinely no one would notice if I was there or not. I really don't think it makes a difference whether or not I show."
After that, you took a deep breath, and quieted. Billy didn't say anything for a moment, processing.
"Would it be okay if I talked shit about your family for a moment?"
Billy had been around them a good bit after having been with you for so long, enough to know when they said things that upset you, to see how they interacted with each other and then with you.
Your family hadn't always been like that. So standoffish.
It was as you got older, and got to know them as people, grew into your own, that you realized they were kind of assholes sometimes.
And it felt like you didn't fit in anymore. Like maybe you hadn't turned out like they'd wanted. And even if that wasn't the case, that's how they made you feel because you were different.
Quiet. Hardworking. You had dreams and ambitions and didn't want to live in the same place forever like they had, send your kids to the same schools they'd gone to. Hell, you didn't even want children.
And you had Billy. It was the two of you against the world. This boy with long hair and an earring and a growing collection of leather accoutrements.
Billy was determined to make you feel seen as you'd done for him. And recently you were trying to open up about these feelings to your family, slowly, but surely. It was a process.
"Yeah, go ahead," you laughed a little, "I really don't mind."
You snuggled further into Billy's chest, and he squeezed you. He smelled like his woody cologne, of his shampoo, and of cinnamon from the apple pie he'd made earlier. He smelled like home.
"I really fuckin' hate that they've made you feel this way. Like you're an outcast in your own family just because you're not an asshole who likes to talk about everyone else's bullshit. I mean, last time we were there, your cousins talked out of their asses about their friends. What the hell is that about? If they don't like 'em, I really don't know why they're friends at all."
"And I hate that they talk over you, and make jokes when you're loud like the whole neighborhood can't hear them blabbing anyways."
"I just want you to know that I'm here and I see you and I love all the little things about you that they might not." He planted a kiss on your forehead, lips warm and a little chapped because of the weather.
"It kills me that you think no one would notice if you were gone. I know you mean them, obviously, but I can't do this without you, you know."
You could feel his nose rubbing across your scalp, breathing you in.
"And I'll play spoons with you tonight even if no one else wants to and it's not technically supposed to be a two person game. Though I can't promise it won't get violent."
You sat up, and he let you move until you were straddling his legs, both hands firmly settled on his cheeks. You didn't say anything for a little while, squishing his face up with your hands, making him grumpier by the minute.
Though he didn't push you off, because he secretly liked it. You stared at Billy, running the pad of your thumb over the tips of his eyelashes, through the slit in his eyebrow, over the freckles at the tops of his cheeks.
"You are very aggressive at spoons. But it's worth it to see you wrestle over one with my sister. And better when you win."
Billy's cheeks flushed pink and you giggled. He always said you were the only person who'd ever been able to fluster him so easily.
You thought about his other words for a second. "So that means you like it when I squish up your pretty face like this?" He grinned and pried a hand away from his temple to kiss your palm.
"No. I fucking hate it."
You smiled at him, admiring the way he was looking at you. "Thank you for saying all that. Also I'm going to be sincere with you if you need to take a deep breath."
You watched as he dramatically inhaled, and then you dropped your hands to his lap, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
"I really appreciate that you notice all of the little things and that you support me and everything. I can't do this without you either. I love you, Billy."
He lifted your chin up to make you meet his eyes. "I love you too, Y/N."
When Billy kissed you, it wasn't urgent or rough. It was sweet, and he took his time, pressing all of his feelings and admiration for you directly against your mouth. And it took your breath away.
————
That night, your family asked questions about what you wanted to do after college, what you hoped to do. They asked the same of Billy. You blushed at the idea of him being a mechanic, of having his own shop.
You were thinking about Billy written in little red letters on a gray uniform, him having his hair tied up, when the very same boy set apple pie down in front of you. He'd been simultaneously fixing pie and talking, ever the charmer.
He clocked your flustered look, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he sat next to you.
"Proud of you. Being so strong."
You could've melted. Become one with the wooden chair beneath your ass.
Your grandmother, who you'd talked to about your feelings, and you thought maybe Billy had too, noticed when you hadn't said much and would ask you something or just talk to you.
After dessert, a cousin asked if you wanted to play spoons. It ended up being a whole group game, and unnecessarily aggressive.
At the end, it was down to you and Billy. You watched him shuffle the cards, silver rings glinting under the overhead light. He smirked at you while separating out your cards.
"Good luck, baby."
"Fuck you, Hargrove."
Billy laughed loudly, tossing his head back in glee at your competitive streak.
Table strewn with reds and blues, kings and queens, you had three sevens. Your heart was pounding as you watch not only Billy's hands, but the cards he was practically launching across the wooden surface at you. Your family watched from either side of the two of you, biting their nails or taking shots.
Queen, three, three, five, seven.
You almost screamed. You tucked the card in your hand and reached, snatching the metal spoon off of the table and slamming your cards down as you did.
You laughed maniacally. "Suck my dick, Hargrove!"
You'd never won against him before. This was groundbreaking.
Billy stood up. "You fucker. You little shit." There was no venom in his words though, as he was smiling the whole time.
He pulled you into him, smacking a kiss on your lips. "Congratulations, baby. We're going again though."
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
a/n: i used to see this trend on tiktok a lot and even though i haven’t seen it in a while, i still think about it so here are my thoughts that nobody asked for <3
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
bang chan: a girl who lost her dad at a young age and always dreamed of having someone in her life that could make her feel the safety and protection and love that she always imagined he would give her
minho: a boy who’s been bullied most of his life and who imagines a friend who will cheer him up and unapologetically show his affection, but who will always fearlessly stand up to the bullies that he always cowers from
changbin: an only child who’s always wanted a sibling, whether it be older or younger, so they wrote changbin to show the strength and kindness of an old brother, as well as the cuteness and silliness of a younger brother
hyunjin: someone who’s always daydreamed of the type of love they read in books, where the guy is absolutely head-over-heels for them and sees them in absolutely everything, making them their muse
jisung: a mother who lost her child either before he was born or at a very young age, and still dreams about the sweet and goofy child he could’ve grown up to be
felix: someone who always wanted a childhood friend that they could grow up with and would do everything with them, would never judge them for anything, would love them even if they split up for college, and would wear a cheesy homemade friendship bracelet that said both their initials on it until the strings were worn and fraying
seungmin: someone who lost their friends during high school and wanted someone who was sharp-witted and would absolutely never let them make the mistake of wasting time with fake people ever again, but would still be their shoulder to cry on whenever they got hurt
jeongin: a mischievous twin who lost their other half and desperately craves to have their partner in crime back who’s always by their side and is always down to do anything with them, whether it be sneaking out of the house to go through the drive-thru at 1am and eating fast food in the parking lot, or playing dumb pranks on all their friends just to see them laugh
warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??
a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333
————
November 1985
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”
Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.
“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.
She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”
The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”
Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.
“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”
Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.
“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”
Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.
It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.
You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.
Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.
But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.
There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.
Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.
You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”
He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.
When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”
He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.
“Hey. Glad your test is over?”
That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”
You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.
“You have work today?”
Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.
Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.
“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”
You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”
The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.
“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.
The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.
“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.
“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.
“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.
Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.
Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.
“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”
“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”
Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.
Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.
He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.
You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.
He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.
When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.
Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.
He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.
“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.
He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?”
“Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.
“Besides what?”
You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.
Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.
“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.
“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.
“You know what.”
“I want you to go.”
“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”
————
The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.
Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.
She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.
Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”
You and Billy.
You and Billy Hargrove.
Sharing a room.
Sharing a bed.
Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.
“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.
“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”
That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”
You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?
“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”
He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”
He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.
“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”
You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.
“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”
You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.
“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.
You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”
Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.
“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”
You nod your head, and try to move back from him.
Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”
You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.
“Really?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.
“Yeah, baby.”
Baby.
It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.
And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.
“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”
“Mhm. Thought so.”
This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.
“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.
When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.
You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.
You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.
Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.
“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.
————
Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.
“Right hand blue.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”
Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.
“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”
“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.
He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.
Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.
He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”
“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”
“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.
“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”
You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.
“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.
You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”
Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.
The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.
It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.
————
You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.
You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.
He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.
When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.
You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.
He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.
“C’mere then.”
You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”
“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”
“Billy.”
“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.
Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.
He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”
“Yeah.”
Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”
“Yes.”
He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.
Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.
He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.
“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”
You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.
“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.
“You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.
It’s just me.
“Do they hurt at all?”
Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.
“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”
You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.
He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.
“Goodnight, Billy.”
He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.
“Goodnight, baby.”
————
When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.
Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.
You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.
Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.
Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.
You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.
“Sleep okay?” she asks.
“Mhm. You?”
“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”
You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.
“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”
You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”
“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”
You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”
“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.
“Oh my god.”
“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”
“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”
“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.
“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”
Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”
He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.
“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”
————
Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.
It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.
It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.
You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.
“Whatcha doin’?”
Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm.”
“I can go back inside, if you want.”
Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.
“Okay.”
He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.
“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”
“I understand, Billy.”
You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.
“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.
“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”
He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.
Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.
When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.
He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.
“You motherfucker!”
You get him back, and he’s laughing.
Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.
You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.
“Billy!”
“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.
You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.
When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.
“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”
You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.
He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.
He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.
Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.
It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.
When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.
Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“I know,” you respond.
He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.
“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”
“Damn right you are.”
You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.
“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.
“So much for that,” Billy says.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
————
“I’m regretting this, Billy.”
“Stop whining.”
Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.
“Get off.”
“No.”
“Get off, please.”
“Make me.”
There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.
He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”
And you’d do it again.
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Shut up and take it.”
By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.
You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.
He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.
He’s never had this before.
Hell, you’ve never had this before.
And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.
You’re healing him. You.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
it's always i love you and never "I'll be your executioner. I'll join your sword dance. Tell me what do you want me to do first? How do you want me to do it? Who do you want me to kill first?"
Summary: They left you without a goodbye, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you take them back into your life and let them back into your heart?
Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.
ugh i hate when people act like woozi is totally closed off and can't feel emotions and his only character trait is focusing on his music like...you guys just don't understand his love language
he loves his members so much and you can tell, he doesn't like leaving the hotel when traveling but he'll always go out and play catch with dk, he falls over himself laughing at stupid jokes the other boys make, he pretends to be annoyed by hoshi but then makes a beat for him to rap about scoup's hat, during the my my music video he was told to look less loving but he had a loving look on his face because he was thinking of his members
everything he has ever done, even pre-debut, has been for seventeen because he loves them so much, he has so much love inside of him, you just have to notice the little things
this is all bc i saw a mtl earlier and they made him seem so uncaring and then i saw this titkok too that was like "pet names svt would give you" and woozi's was like "i don't think he'd give you a pet name, he'd just write you a song" and like dsjflasdk (also darling was playing under that video and im like bae....woozi literally wrote this song)
ah everyone in the comments and reblogs of this post talking about how jihoon loves warms my heart so much, everyone noticings and understanding...it really makes me happy
sometimes i just forget i'm not interested in relationships, yk?
like,,, my friends will ask me about what to do about/with their partners and i'll give them the best advice they've ever heard but after they leave i'm like "where'd that come from????"
germansingergirl
stormborns
andulkaphoto
yousharknotpass
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
2087
prguitarman
gummygunk
baratheonpilled
