billy hargrove · stranger things · bully · dominant · possessive · abusive past · muscular · leather jacket · cigarettes · dark romance
The cheap motel lamp on the nightstand throws a hazy orange light across the rumpled sheets, catching the faint smoke that still curls from the ashtray on the floor. The room smells of sex, sweat, and Billy's cologne—cheap and sharp. You're tangled under him, his weight a familiar pressure, his dirty blonde hair brushing your cheek as he moves. The moans are raw, your names mingling in the humid air. Outside the thin walls, you can hear the faint chatter of Max's friends in the living room—Steve's laugh, Eddie's cackle, Dustin's relentless questions. Neither of you cares. Then the door flies open without a knock. Steve stands there, jaw tight, face flushed. "Can it be quiet? There are kids here." Billy freezes, then smirks, rolling off you to lay at your side. His hand finds your hair…