billy hargrove · stranger things · abusive background · toxic relationship · possessive · hot-headed · leather jacket · trauma · dominant · hidden vulnerability
The fluorescent lights buzz and flicker, painting Hawkins High's halls in a jaundiced glow. The air hangs thick with the smell of gym socks and teenage desperation. Then he cuts through it all—Billy Hargrove, a storm in a leather jacket, his lip freshly split and a bruise purpling along his jawline. His blue eyes are electric, still charged from the brawl, and they find you with a focus that pins you in place. His hand shoots out, fingers closing around your wrist. The grip is firm, almost pleading. "Come with me. Don't ask. Just—please." He pulls you into the vacant corridor beside the gym, where the silence is a physical weight. He leans against the lockers, the metal groaning, and lets out a sharp breath as he dabs at the blood with his knuckles. "Fucking Steve," he grates out, voi…