straight like a boomerang

des┊they/them┊18+┊writer / artist / gamer 

[simplydes]

back from the grave,

STATUES - HARRINGROVE MINIZINE

so here is my entry for @ihni 's minizine community event! I decided to go with a 'greek statues' theme, which is why I kept the art monochrome! these are all sketches that have been worked on, I used models' photos as reference pictures for the poses :) you can open the blog for the individual pictures of each piece + the pdf file with which you can also print the minizine if you want to <3

LINK TO PDF

would you guys be interested in me setting up a Patreon page? I would be posting content every week/month, it would mostly be Harringrove/DbD themed, though I'm still debating what kind of tiers to include and the like also, I will be opening commissions! I still need to work on the commission page/details + finish a few projects I owe

anyways, thank you for checking this blog out!

I hope this minizine brings you some joy <3

[bigdumbbambieyes]

he needs me he needs me he needs me

“all at once we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other; hopelessly, I should add, because that frenzy of mutual possession might have been assuaged only by our actually imbibing and assimilating every particle of each other's soul and flesh” // kurt keeps billy safe and loved - by any means necessary

a killy moodboard for my friend @simplydes 🤍🖤

[billysbuttcheeks-deactivated202]

Tommy was Steve’s first kiss. They were only 12, and Tommy said they were practicing for when a girl wanted to kiss them. But Steve wasn’t sure he wanted to kiss girls, he just wanted to keep kissing Tommy. His lips were soft and his freckles were adorable. But his parents had always told him those feelings were wrong.

They kissed again when they were fourteen. Tommy had his first kiss with a girl and Steve asked him how it was. But instead of just telling him, Tommy showed him. When Mr. Hagan walked into his son’s room and found him with his tongue inside Steve’s mouth, he forbid them from ever seeing each other again. Steve took all the blame, he didn’t know what Tommy’s dad would do to him.

The third time happened Junior year in a drunken haze. Steve wasn’t even sure how it happened. One minute he and Tommy were arguing and the next he was in somebody’s bedroom with Tommy on top of him. Tommy had barely gotten Steve’s shirt off when the door opened and Tommy rolled off of Steve and fell to the floor. Luckily for them the other couple didn’t see anything, but Steve was too nervous to hang around.

Halloween night, senior year, Steve stood in the bathroom at Tina’s house staring at himself in the mirror as Nancy slammed the bathroom door behind her. Moments later a knock came at the door. “I’m busy!” But the door opened anyway and Tommy stepped in, closing and locking it behind him. Seeing the look on Steve’s face, the sadness and shock, Tommy couldn’t help but wrap him in a hug. “You deserve better man. You deserve someone who loves you.” Steve scoffed, “yea right, like anyone could love me.” Tommy stepped back and stared at him, his breath catching in his throat. “I do.” Before Steve could say anything, Tommy’s lips were pressed to his again. This time, the kiss meant something.

There were many kisses after that one, each filled with love and want. Steve would have to say his favorite one was their wedding day, surrounded by all the people who loved and accepted them for who they were. From that day on, he never wanted to stop kissing the boy who loved him from the start.

[metalheadcowboy]

Turning a Harringrove Cowboy/Farm AU I wrote A LONGGGG time ago into an actual multi part/chapter fic, so here's the first part, enjoy!

-----------------------

It was the spring of '84 when Steve Harrington first decided he hated Billy Hargrove with every damn bone in his body.

The beginning of that spring had been particularly rough in many ways. 

Steve's second senior year of high school was going quite a ways away from great, it seemed like no matter what his old man was pissed off about something or another, the calving season had only just started and it was going straight to shit. Oh, and on top of that, it was hotter than a witches tit outside, a record high in southern Indiana that year, great.

"Gah lee," Steve huffed as he fell flat on his rear, wiping the sweat off his forehead, with the part of his arm that wasn't covered in cow crap and god knows what, "That 'as one big son 've a bitch." The force of his collapse knocked his Stetson hat clean off, but he was quick to recover the rather expensive item he’d received for Christmas not too long ago. 

He slowly collected himself, pushing the medium tan leather down upon his dark, messy waves. He couldn’t help but blink his eyes a few times as he practically panted like a dog to will any form of cold into his body, "Yeah, 'll least this one's livin'," his dad remarked, and he couldn't disagree with that. Seemed like they'd had more still born calves than live ones this season.

" 'Ts only March, we've got a few months," The teen reminded, manifesting at least a shred of hope for the coming weeks. It wasn't that they didn't have calves other times of the year, they were just few and far between. Now was the time when they started raising a good sized herd to sell of at the beginning of next spring to support them most of the year round, besides the practical penny change they made selling their cows milk local, "Good job, mama," he praised the brown and white blotched animal next to him, already akin to new motherhood, licking her almost identical oversized calf like she knew nothing else.

Steve willed himself up off the ground onto shaky knees, this day had been one of his longest in a while. School on top of all the heifers seeming to want to calf at the exact same time. But as he looked past their property line, out into the marvelous bubblegum pink and creamsicle sunset, he found some sliver of peace.

Only the voice of his father snapped him out of his blissful moment of zoning out, seemed like he was doing a lot more of that lately "You best go wash up 'fer dinner, you know your ma ain't gon' have you at the table lookin' that way." He was right and Steve knew it, but he couldn't lie, a hot shower did sound pleasant on his aching joints.

He gave a quick "Yes sir," ending what was probably the tamest conversation they'd had in weeks, before making the short, yet long trek back to their homestead. He could see the lights on in the kitchen and living room, and as he got closer he came upon the silhouette of his mother washing her hands in the kitchen sink in the small window next to their side door.

He trotted up the last few stairs, smiling as he walked through the door to someone just as happy to greet him, "Well, look what the hot mess express brought in, my word sweetie," she said with no real malice, grinning at him like he was her pride and joy, which he was.

"Hi mama," he replied plainly, chuckling softly as she came over and pulled his nearly six foot frame down to her 5 '2 height for a kiss on the side of his head.

His chuckle turned into a full chested laugh when she made a fake gag of disgust, "You smell just 'bout right rank, son. You sure the heifers weren't the ones hackin' it up at your stink?" she teased and Steve just shook his head.

"Had my arm so far up one of 'em I'm prolly 'bout half cow any how," The brunette boy mimicked the struggle sticking his arm up the back end of a cow, to which Annette Harrington grimaced, "That's why I let you boys do your thing and I do mine," she gestured to the kitchen, which is what first alerted Steve to the smell of freshly made chicken pot pie sitting ready on the ceramic countertop. 

His eyes immediately lit up with pure delight, like a kid on Christmas morning, except he was nineteen and to some sad extent pot pie was the highlight of his week, “Mama you didn’t!” he exclaimed, about to go in for a big hug before remembering what he was covered in. 

Mrs. Harrington just shook her head, “Alright, go get cleaned up, the pie ain’t gon’ grow legs.” Within an instant Steve was racing off to his bedroom to grab a pair of pajamas and then to his bathroom to shower. 

And to say he was right would have been an understatement. Steve swore the hot stream of water that cascaded down his spine sent him into seventh heaven, easing out his jammed knee and stiff elbow with ease. 

He enjoyed his escape for about as long as the hot water lasted, a mere few minutes, but that was long enough for him. When he stepped out of the shower he shook his hair out like a wet dog, letting the towel he scrubbed his head with next catch the excess. Shortly after, he grabbed the comb up next to his sink, swiping the steam off the mirror to give his unruly mop a good brush through before quickly throwing on the pajamas he had grabbed prior. 

Steve practically burst through the bathroom door, following the promising scent of dinner, blatantly stopping in his tracks when he found something that was definitely not chicken pot pie. 

“Oh, Steven,” Oh boy, “We have someone we’d like ‘fer you to meet.” The smile on his moms face was sickeningly different from that she had on when welcoming him in from his chores. A lot less genuine and a lot more plastic, but still warm in the way it always was, it was just her nature. 

Steve didn’t say anything for a few seconds, taking in the atmosphere, his parents, that boy. He would be lying if he said the golden-haired figure standing between his folks didn’t look straight out of one of the magazines he’d seen the few times they went into the city. 

Striking icy blue eyes, rimmed with lashes that damn near put any woman’s to shame. Thick brows somehow shaped to perfection, lain a top skin so perfectly sun kissed and freckled with intent. Steve had to force himself to shake these thoughts, knowing how damn stupid he must have looked gawking like an idiot. But that didn’t push away the confusion he felt as his heart seemed to pick up at the statuesque mystery man standing before him. 

“If they’d ‘a told me we were having’ company I would’ve thought to dress a ‘lil nicer ‘n this,” he remarked, cheeks burning a bit with embarrassment, feeling almost stark naked in his pajama pants and plain white t-shirt. He huffed out a short breath when the guy in front of him gave him a rather unconvincing pity laugh, parents following suit, “Ain’t no skin off my back, ‘m sure we’ll see each other in worse,” the radiant boy replied, once again leaving Steve baffled, but maybe that’s just what he did. 

“Names Billy by the way, Billy Hargrove” the boy- Billy extended his hand for Steve to take and he did, taking the few steps forward to give his hand a proper shake before returning the favor, “Steve Harrington, pleasure’s mine,” he replied simply with a short nod of his head. 

His father seemed pleased enough by this interaction, though Steve could never really tell, he always had this sort of stone cold thing going on. 

There was a beat of somewhat awkward silence before Annette interjected, “How about some homemade pot pie?” she offered, with a prompt clap of her hands, sending her boys and their guest to the dinner table. Normally Steve would have been beaming, ready to talk and talk and talk about anything and everything under the sun, but suddenly he wasn’t exactly in the mood. 

“Well, Billy we really are glad to have ya here,” Mr. Harrington continued in the tone he only used around guests or, really, people he was trying to impress. The sickeningly sweet, layered on false happiness and enthusiasm that made Steve’s stomach hurt, “Yeah, ‘ll y’know my old man’s been rearin’ to get me out of the house since the second I stepped foot outta school,” Hm, so he was older, “Since I graduated early ‘n all, couldn’t happen fast ‘nough.” The lanky boy nearly spit out his water, choking in an awkward way to where it came halfway up his nose and made his eyes water. 

Steve coughed it out a bit before bringing his napkin up to his face, watery eyes of shame blinking themselves dry, “Y’ alright there cowboy?” Cowboy, Steve looked up at the smirk on the other boy’s face and had to hold back a sneer. The last thing he needed tonight was to get into it with his dad while they had company over. 

“ ‘M fine, thanks,” he mumbled, feeling the short- lived rage in his stomach settle when his mother brought the meal over just in time, “Shall we?” she chimed in a sing-song tone, that wasn’t anything like his fathers, hers was genuine. Because if there was one thing about Annette Harrington, she didn’t have a mean bone in her body for anyone, unless they messed with her family. 

Steve tuned out the prayer, forehead pressed solidly against his hands clasped so tight his knuckles were about ghostly white. He was just wondering when this Billy guy was going to leave so this night could be over. But of course, just when the brunette thought the topic might change, of course, even after the prayer, his father, John, had to dwell. 

“I’ll say that’s right impressive, y’know Steve here’s held back a year, he’s ‘sposed to have graduated by now, but,” Mr. Harrington shrugged as he dug into his dinner. His son sat there halfway gobsmacked, halfway offended, but he should’ve expected such. 

Steve scoffed, “Only ‘cus you got me doin’ half your work every day. I barely got time for anythin’ else,” he mumbled under his breath just loud enough for the table to hear as he stared down at his mashed potatoes. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel his fathers eyes boring into his skull like laser beams. 

Steve’s mom just looked at him with a disappointed expression, but didn’t interject because she knew good and well it was true, “ ‘F that’s whatcha really think ‘n you’ll be happy to hear you won’t have to do it no more.” Steve’s eyebrows practically shot up his forehead and through his hairline. 

What the hell was he talkin’ ‘bout?

“Huh?” Was all he could manage before his dad excitedly cut off whatever he was planning to say next, “Well what else do you think we got Billy here for, looks?” This gave everyone but Steve a good laugh, he didn’t see any reason to be laughing right now. 

“ ‘N just what ‘o you mean by that?” He was so blinded by anger that he couldn’t even think about eating the pot pie his sweet mother had made, but he’d get over that guilt. He couldn’t say the same for the fury burning deep within him. He looked over at Billy who looked smug as ever, chewing on a bit of his food, sneaky eyes peeking out of the rim of his rather ratty looking Resistol. Oh what he would give right now to punch that smug look right off that pretty boy face. 

John Harrington gave Steve the look, his signature look that said ‘I dare you to go testin’ me, boy’ and if there was ever a time for that it would be now, “Steve, you’ve been slacking lately ‘n we both know it, son.” Steve went to open his mouth but got cut off, again, “ ‘N I figured having Billy stay here ‘n work with me ‘d give you the time off to do sumn else. Like helpin’ your mom ‘round the house, you did always seem… better suited for those things.” 

This couldn’t be fuckin’ for real, “John-,” his mom tried to scold. 

There’s no way his dad just basically called him a sissy, not after-

“I had my hand up a cow’s ass ‘fer you today, ‘n then you’re gonna go sayin’ that- that bullshit?” Steve burst, knowing he would no doubt have to pay for these words later. He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, not from guilt, not from shame, but of pure, unfiltered rage. But what really put salt in the wound was looking over at Billy, whose subtle smirk had far faltered, turning into something more innocent, more regretful. Like this wasn’t all his own damn fault in the first place. 

Everything’s so unfair, this is so unfair. Not only did he feel hurt, but he felt embarrassed, having his dad say those things about him, basically calling him a sissy, in front of his own mother. 

“Steven-” he heard his father try to reprimand, but Steve refused to take it. Instead, he stood up abruptly, the straightening of his knees sent his chair flying backwards against the wall. He would have cringed at the sound if he weren’t so genuinely pissed. 

He was able to hold the tears in until he turned around, then it was like the dam just… burst. He felt a whine work its way up his throat, but he willed it back down, swallowing what last bit of pride he had left down with it. 

Could a sissy do that? Maybe Steve didn’t want the answer to that. 

He didn’t know what was going on, he’d never felt this was, this upset, this angry. He didn’t understand. He practically glid to his room, socked feet moving so fast he wasn’t sure whether or not he was actually taking real steps. And, frankly, he didn’t care, just wanted to be away. 

When he made it to his room, he closed his door behind him and flopped down onto his bed, stomach down, choking on his own hushed sobs. It made him feel like a child again, pathetic, small, lonely. He turned on his side and curled in on himself a bit, clinging on to whatever little bit of comfort he could. 

Through wallowing in his own self pity, he barely heard the faint mewl coming from behind him. He just groaned, hoping maybe if he ignored it long enough it, or rather she, would go away. 

“Meooowww.” He should’ve known better, it was his fault for locking her in there with him anyways. 

“Oh, Ginger,” he sighed, stuffy nose making him sound all nasally. And it was as if that was the permission the rather plump orange tabby needed to jump up on top of him like he was her human pillow, “Cain’t a man even have a few seconds alone.” To that, of course, she meowed at him in protest, ever the chatterbox. 

Steve quickly accepted his defeat to the tubby cat when she somehow still gracefully jumped off his ribs and onto the empty spot in bed next to him. The pale light of bright stars shining through his window, reflecting off of Ginger’s big round saucer eyes were the only thing giving his room any light. But it didn’t matter because soon after he shut his own eyes, focusing on the purring of the seemingly content cat next to him, half wishing to disappear, half wishing to go back out there and beat Billy to a pulp. Even if only for existing.

Billy, stupid Billy and his stupid white teeth and his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid everything.

Fuck this dinner, fuck this day, and most importantly fuck Billy Hargrove.

[wholeshebangs]

it’s red dead steve but this time it’s a rich boy yeehaw

[miciopersonellasiepe-deactivate]

(Harringrove Pkmn AU) Billy: Childhood (6-10 y/o)

First ideas I have with this AU. I always imagined Billy as a shy child, without too many connections with other children/people, so I decided to give him two pokemon that I see deeply connected with his personality. A Cyndaquil, a small, shy pokemon that reacts aggressively and explosively when it feels in danger/angry and a Floatzel, a Pokemon deeply connected with water and also a pokemon who's always been seen a safe figure, someone that helps people who are at risk of drowning in the sea.

Cyndaquil was given to Billy has an egg by his grandma, before she passed away. She's his first pokemon, and they have been together since the beginning. Floatzel used to live around the same beach Billy went to surf with his mother, and got curious about him. For years he would never let himself be caught, only hanging around Billy (but still people considered Floatzel as Billy's pokemon). This will change only when Billy will move to Hawkins with his family.

[cicadasketch]

I had wanted to add one more sketch and then color these before posting but at this point I just don’t think I’m going to sooo

Werewolf(?) Billy anyone?

[eddiesstabwound]

we all ship harringrove in this house, but there are certain things about your preferences within the fandom that say a lot about you.

fucked up steve or fucked up billy

daddy steve or daddy billy

top steve or top billy (we all like switch/diverse but if you had to choose)

tag yourself, i’m fucked up steve ft. top daddy billy

[klayr-de-gall]

✨AU-gust Prompt List✨

All Fandoms and Pairings welcome!

Feel free to join in! Let’s fill August with a lot of awesome creations about many lovely AU settings!

Use the tag #AUaugust so everyone can find your work! Writers are also encouraged to have fun with this list! You can alternate or switch or pick whatever prompt you like best and there is absolutely no pressure to do all 31.

 I will be hyped for everyone who considers joining into the fun!!  Or support it!

So share the word, and I see ya in August!

[simplydes]

BASKETBALL - HARRINGROVE

Inspired by @harringroveheart's OUTSTANDING series, maybe there is a beast (specifically the last episode), I created this moodboard cause... it's amazing?? I'm addicted? I LOVE it. I've been reading it for a while and every update fills me with JOY so yeah, you guys should definitely check it out-- join me in the pit.

I swear I will start drawing again, too, but artblock can be a pain in the ass to deal with even though I'm haunted by prompts on a daily basis.

[inklessletter]

"Eyes on me. Yeah. Good boy."

---

Thank you so much for trusting and sticking around.

Steve says thank you 💛

[weird-an]

Harrington is a greedy fucker. Billy knows this. Harrington is the only child that has always gotten all the gifts he wanted and probably even more because no one ever said no to him.

He's barely inside the house and Harrington already pulls his pants down, tears off his shirt and sucks on Billy's skin. They've fucked outside, on the backseat of the Camaro, at Scoop's Ahoy and one memorable time- to Billy's delight - in the Wheeler's bathroom.

It's dizzying to feel that wanted. Billy knows he's just a toy, a way of passing the time until Harrington's dad buys him an acceptance letter to a college Harrington doesn't even want to go to and Billy gets tossed away when a new model comes along. But he'll enjoy it while it lasts, because Harrington might be a selfish asshole, but he's the best fuck Billy ever had.

Today Harrington doesn't bend him over the kitchen counter when he arrives. Instead they go upstairs, into Harrington's room Billy has barely been to - usually they don't make it that far.

"I want you to put that on," Harrington says, holding out a lipstick for Billy. It's fucking Dior, something that Billy didn't ever thought he'd touch in his life, something he didn't know existed outside of sparkly magazines and television.

Billy takes it, heart in his throat. Guys don't put on lipstick.

"I'm not your fucking girlfriend," he sneers. His ribs ache.

Harrington just smiles calmly. Like he expected Billy's reaction.

"The color is really pretty." As if that would make it easier.

Billy pulls off the cap. It's rose, like a raspberry. He wonders how it would feel.

"C'mon." Harrington's fingers ghost above his lips. "It's just a joke."

Billy's stomach twists. This doesn’t feel like a joke. Harrington doesn’t look like he's joking.

"Whatever."

Putting lipstick on is a strange feeling. It feels creamy on his lips and he thinks there's the faint scent of roses in the air.

Billy has to admit, at least to himself, that it's pretty. His tan, his blond curls and the reddened lips. There's something inside him that uncurls, something that feels right.

"Can't wait to see you choke on my cock," Harrington murmurs. "With your pretty red lips."

"You're a fucking pervert," Billy murmurs. His cheeks burn. He can't let anyone know how frail he feels right now. How the world seems right and wrong at the same time.

"You just look fucking pretty," Harrington says. He gives Billy a sly grin, like he sees right through him. "You can keep the lipstick."

It's already tugged away in Billy's pocket. "I'll think about it."

"Give me a taste." Harrington's lips are already there, brushing against Billy's. Harrington always takes, but this feels like he's giving something back, too.

[simplydes]

Top 5 Harringrove songs of the week:

Tagged by @weird-an! Thank you for including me <3

I've been listening to summer-vibe / chill songs recently, so that's mainly what this list includes (and hooking up during parties, of course...)

1. Vampire - Dominic Fike 2. Mistakes Like This - Prelow 3. Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood 4. Moonlight - Kuoga., Elko 5. I Don't Even Care About You - MISSIO (+1 THAT'S WHAT I WANT - MONTERO) (+1 Secrets - Regard, RAYE) (+1 Day N' Night - VAVO, ZHIKO) (+1 Sex, Drugs, Etc. - Beach Weather) (+1 Swim - Chase Atlantic)

Did you actually think I'd be able to choose FIVE songs? I had to include five more otherwise I wouldn't sleep well tonight (joking-- or am I?)

Tagging @ihni, @harringroveheart and @bigdumbbambieyes ! <3

I would love to see what you guys have in mind!

[weird-an]

There is a crossroad just outside Hawkins, where corn grows so high it's hidden from anybody's view.

Blood runs down Billy's temple and his head pounds like Neil didn't stop hitting him. Neil who found his Mandate magazine and went fucking crazy.

Billy can't go back. Billy can't go back or he's going to get fucking killed. By his own father. He had never seen Neil so angry - and Neil has always been angry, but not like that.

He has thought about it for a while. It's just some make belief, some hocus pocus, but Billy needs a miracle. He doesn't wear shoes and pebbles tear his holey socks apart. He just grabbed the box and ran.

It's eerily silent. Almost midnight - he thinks. He doesn't have a watch. He digs through the ground with his bare hands. He buries the blue box he stole from Max in the hole. It's a jewelry box she never uses. He has gotten a bit of dirt from the local graveyard, a cat bone from a school's exhibit and an ugly photo from his last school in California where he had to smile while his back was still aching.

A fat drop of crimson blood drips on his fake smile. He wipes his forehead, before he can remember that his hands are dirty.

He stands up. Nothing happens.

It's a cold night. His breath forms little clouds, floating into the night. The moon is gone, waiting to get reborn. An endless circle of birth and death.

"What a surprise." Steve Harrington stands behind him. Same as usual, wearing a pastel blue and pink polo shirt and his ever perfect hair fluffy and only slicked back a little.

"Billy Hargrove needing help?" he scoffs - and it's almost as if they were on the court and not on a crossroad, about to make a deal. "Wanting to gift me his soul?"

There's a red shine in his eyes, but more in the way that it seems like a reflection.

"You're a... demon?" Billy asks. Maybe that's some stupid prank. Maybe that's an explanation why Harrington is so unearthly pretty. "And you're going to High School?"

And sucking at it, is something he doesn't add, but he knows how many classes Harrington is failing. Tommy won't shut up about it. He would have rather expected Hagan to be a fucking demon and not Harrington who now gives him a goofy grin.

"Oh, well..." Harrington says. "Let's say I made a deal a few years ago and then I unfortunately died early."

There's a headline Neil had read out loud to them before they moved here. About a girl, Barb Holland, being thought dead for three weeks - and then rising from the dead, ringing at her parent's door like she just went out to buy some milk.

"God has blessed this place," Neil had said. Apparently Hawkins is about as cursed as Billy feared it is.

"Enough about me." Harrington tilts his head. "What do you want?"

To live, to be free pops into Billy's mind, bright and colorful like a rainbow.

Billy thought about it a lot. First he thought he wanted his dad dead. So that he can never touch him again, so that he doesn't have to be afraid anymore. But if Neil dies, he doesn't have a father or a mother.

The thought is a dark shadow, making him sick.

"I want him to stop hurting me," he says instead. It won't heal the scars, it won't unbreak his bones, it won't make it forgotten, but maybe more bearable. It's what he wanted when he was five, when he turned ten, what he wants to today and what he always wished for whenever saw other people blowing out the candles on their birthday cakes.

Harrington's eyes flicker to Billy's bloody mullet and his dirty socks.

"You need to tell me his name," he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I'm just a demon, not a mindreader."

"My dad," Billy grits out. "Neil.. Hargrove."

There is pity crossing Harrington's face, something he has always been afraid of, but it's gone within seconds, maybe only been a shadow and gets replaced with a red glow, irises more crimson than hazel now.

"Let's seal the deal." Harrington smiles, teeth shining white. "You know how we do it, right? Your soul for me doing you a favor."

Billy heard the stories. Billy didn't expect to become a part of them. Billy doesn't think he has a soul and if he does, it can hardly be worth anything.

Harrington smells like expensive aftershave and smoke.

Billy presses a kiss on Harrington's soft lips. It's a rush, a relief. He feels something shift, something clicking into space.

Harrington laughs into the kiss. "The deal is already done, Hargrove."

Which means Billy's soul is Harrington's now and Neil won't ever hurt him again. The blood on his temple dries. The cut on his scalp stopped throbbing, there's only a faint sting reminding Billy of its existence. He feels like he just jumped into the ocean on a hot summer's day.

He licks across Harrington's mouth, hungry for more.

"Greed and lust are sins, Billy." It almost sounds like a compliment.

Billy's throat turns dry and he wants to pull away, humiliation burning away the cool calm that has begun to spread inside his chest.

It's just a deal - and that's closed now.

Harrington tugs on his bottom lip, sharp pain joining the sweet sensation.

"If you ever feel like sinning, come and find me," Harrington purrs -

and then he's gone. Billy stands on the road, lips tingling, still smelling Harrington's aftershave on him.

He walks home. It's one of these nights when spring is about to fade, summer's heat lurking around the corner. Still cold, but not that he's shivering.

Cherry Lane is deserted, a few lights flickering when Billy comes home. The door is open. He doesn't hear Neil shouting at the TV.

He washes the blood off his face and goes to bed. He wonders if he can dream without a soul. He wonders if it's working. His lips burn and he still feels Harrington's mouth on his.

[swimbirdyswim]

It was the look we’d pass across the kitchen table when Dad was drunk again and dangerous, the level look that wants to tell you something, in a crowded room, something important, and can’t. - Marie Howie, “The Promise” [x]

—- this came across my dashboard… and I just thought of them.

do not repost or post on other platforms without my permission! thanks!

[bigdumbbambieyes]

Midnight Runaway Harringrove Week 2022

Prompts - Serial Killer AU & Billy Hargrove’s Switchblade

tw mentions of abuse, dubcon, knifeplay, blood, violence, choking, Stockholm Syndrome

nsfw

————

It was never going to be easy. Billy knew that much.

Still, he grabs the stack of bills hidden under the loose floorboard in his closet and stuffs them into his suitcase, pausing as he eyes the switchblade hidden there, too. He hesitates, wonders if he should bother, but it would be stupid not to so he grabs it and shoves it into his back pocket. 

Just in case.

After flipping his suitcase shut and zipping it as slowly and quietly as he can, Billy stands and listens.

His dad isn’t supposed to be up for another five hours. He’s dead asleep. If he’s lucky, Neil won’t even bother to phone the cops. He should be grateful his son has finally built up enough courage to do what they’ve both been hoping for.

Keep reading

[weird-an]

Steve sucks on the pink popsicle. Watermelon, cool on his tongue, the taste of summer. It’s boiling hot and he has given up on a shirt a few days ago, at least at home.

Home is now a small trailer at the end of town, far away from his parents’ house and expectations. It’s all thrifted furniture and unfortunately, Dustin made him several clay mugs, because he looked at all the beige and gray in this place and decided the place could use a little color and a bit more Dustin. Steve disagrees on the last one sometimes.

Billy uses the biggest mug, a mint green monstrosity, as an ashtray. Anytime Dustin comes over, Steve races to clean it, tells Dustin that it is his favorite mug and he isn’t even lying.

Because it’s the first thing Billy used here. Maybe out of carelessness or desperation, because he had already lit the cigarette and didn’t want to stain the couch, but still. Because Steve would like Billy to come over more often, but he's too scared that this will chase Billy away. After all they aren't… dating.

Billy sits at the table, only wearing boxers and his necklace. Golden light shining on his messy mullet. He's sucking on his cigarette.

"A popsicle for breakfast, really?"

Just because Billy has this insane diet that somehow balances proteins and drinking himself into a stupor resulting in great abs, he's always judging Steve's lifestyle. Like Steve's worst guilty pleasure isn't Billy himself.

Steve shrugs. "Better than half a pack of cigarettes."

Dustin held him a long presentation about how much smoking sucks. It was kinda scary, Steve has to admit. So better a popsicle than a cigarette.

Billy blows a bit of smoke in Steve's face. "Maybe I don't want my boyfriend to starve."

He freezes. Steve does too, only watches the little orange flame eating up the cigarette.

They never said that this was more than fucking. Steve's heart does a backflip.

Billy drops his cigarette butt in the green mug. His jaw works.

Steve decides to take a risk. "Maybe my boyfriend could make us breakfast then."

Billy grins at him. Eyes sparkling, like Steve just brought down the stars for him.

"Let's see what's in this sad fridge of yours then." He brushes past Steve, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

This place feels even more like a home now. Especially when Billy begins to dig through his fridge and begins to make them omelette.