Blondie Wannabe: A Billy Hargrove Fanfic

Risk and Reward

There's explicit drug use in this chapter, a lot more than usual, so view discretion advised. Also, smut, ** these will be around it. Hope you all enjoy!!

While waiting for Billy to arrive at his house, I smoked my remaining two cigarettes, singing my fingers attempting to make them last as long as possible. Out of boredom, I started sifting through Craig's mixtapes, until I heard the screech of wheels on asphalt, crawling out of the driver's seat to meet him in his driveway.

"I didn't even know you smoked pot," he said while unlocking the front door.

"I don't, not usually, but this is a special situation."

"Why, you stressed out or something?"

Stepping over the threshold, I shrugged off my coat before unwrapping my scarf, shaking my head as he went to adjust the thermostat. "No, I'm not really stressed out, not more than usual, at least. I'm just... bored."

Billy chuckled, biting his lower lip as he ditched his leather jacket, leaving him only in his wine-colored shirt unbuttoned to the base of his sternum. "Well, I've been told I'm a great distraction."

After a moment, I cocked an expectant eyebrow. "So, about that pot..."

"Oh, right, wait here."

I flopped down on the couch, crossing and then uncrossing my legs, leaving them open. Pretending to be a man always made me feel powerful, even sexual, and sitting low in my seat with my knees twelve inches apart and my hands laced behind my head was like injecting my body with liquid manliness.

"Good to see you made yourself at home." The sofa shifted as Billy settled down beside me, steel lighter flipping open as he lit up a joint, exhaling deeply before passing it to me. "I want you to feel comfortable here."

I accepted the joint, taking a shallow inhale before passing it back. "Why would I be comfortable here? You aren't, and neither is Max, and you actually live here."

I waited for him to rebut my statement, defend his home life, but he didn't bother. "I'll rephrase." He took a long drag, blowing his smoke up to the ceiling. "I want you to be comfortable around me."

My mouth went dry when those ocean eyes landed on me, the moisture rushing someplace that needed it more. When he offered me the joint, I swallowed heavily before accepting. This time, I inhaled too deeply, taking the marijuana into my lungs. It left me coughing for an embarrassingly long time- I even clutched my chest dramatically.

Billy relieved me of the joint, smiling. "You weren't lying; you don't smoke."

"Nope, and that is strong stuff."

"It's alright. I saw one of my friends from LA when we were in Denver, and he sold me this. There's nowhere in Hawkins to get good pot." His hand slid onto my thigh, fingertips skimming the bare skin below the hem of my skirt, hiked up from my wide-legged stance. "Let me guess, you're a whiskey on the rocks kind of gal, except for pina coladas on the beach in the summertime, brandy-spiked eggnog at Christmas, and maybe a can of beer at a house party."

Feeling cocky, I snatched the half-finished joint from Billy's hand, leaning against the arm of the sofa, stretching my legs onto his lap. "First of all, I'm a vodka soda girl all the way, and I'd take a glass of wine over beer any day of the week, especially a good pinot noir." He unlaced my boots, removing them along with my socks, rubbing my feet with practiced hands. "And second of all, just because I don't smoke pot, doesn't mean I'm totally innocent."