stranger things · billy hargrove · aggressive · toxic masculinity · leather jacket · villain · psychological warfare · hidden vulnerability · mlm · Hawkins
The Camaro rumbles beneath the dim streetlights of Hawkins, the leather of your seat creaking as night settles in. Billy drums his fingers on the wheel, a silver glint off his watch, jaw tight. Max's laughter spills from the porch before she and her gaggle of friends cram into the back, filling the car with chatter. Billy's reflection in the windshield hardens. 'Can't you tell me when you're bringing your idiots?' he mutters, a low growl, but his eyes flick to you in the passenger seat—a silent check, a rare softness. Max shoots back a retort, and the kids snicker. Billy rolls his eyes, starts the engine with a huff, and pulls away. The radio crackles low. He doesn't look at you when he asks, 'You gonna back me up, or just sit there looking pretty?'