Word Count: 2443

Warnings: Language | Implied sex | Over-controlling boyfriend | 15+

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The ocean spray cast a soft chill over your arms as you sat on the blanket Billy had laid out - a box of beer securing it to the sand at each corner. Some of the seniors and locals of Hawkins had been invited to the party Billy was hosting and - being his girlfriend and all - you agreed to join, a forced smile on your face as you did so.
The party had started way before twilight when the sun still sat high in the sky, her rays warming your arms and legs as you bathed below her. Now, however, the moon had taken her place, reigning over the black plain on his pedestal, a dark chill descending over the beach. You brought your hands to each arm, rubbing them up and down, trying to create some heat to warm your body; the fire pits dug out proving unsucessful in providing you warmth. Instead, you resorted for a blanket shrouded around your shoulders to try and keep your temperature up, however the soft chill looming in the air around you kept your exposed skin in a permanent state of goosebumps.
Despite the temperature, the party was in full swing: People were dancing, drinking and screwing the night away - the darkness the moon supplied hiding any sinful deeds committed. Some had brought their cars to the edge of the crowd, opening the doors wide and blasting their music, a wide array of genres filling the air as everybody listened - moving their hips and feet in time with their prefered beat.
However, you weren't one for dancing. You were barely one for the beach! Social situations were not prosperous environments for you. You didn't thrive like Billy or Steve and you certainly couldn't adapt like Nancy had done. And the beach of all places wasn't exactly your favourite location for said party you did not want to attend.
The beach was a place of panic: What if the tide comes in? What it you got robbed? It's very dark, someone could come and...
You shook your head, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin in the dip. Your thoughts often clouded your decisions, stopped you from thinking clearly or forced you into an inpromptu state of panic.
Although your opinion of the beach would always be the same.
A nightmare.
After sitting for a moment - your knees still stuck tight to your chest, the blanket around your shoulders still providing you a fraction of the heat you required - you lifted your gaze to the pair of boots walking toward you. A pair of boots you knew too well.
"Come on, Babe! Enjoy the party!"
Billy.
He stumbled toward you, a beer bottle held tightly in his hand - as if dropping it was a life or death situation - and his belt hung loose around his waist - his zipper pulled down, exposing the striped pattern of his underwear. You hadn't seen Billy since sunset and you could only imagine the trecherous things he had gotten up to. Many of the girls attending his soiree were more than likely too drunk to say no to Billy's requests and Billy being the man he was, wouldn't have let them even if they could.
"Why aren't you dancing?" He asked, sitting beside you, bringing the beer bottle to his lips and guzzling the remnants down, discarding the bottle beside him before releasing a large belch. You closed your eyes in disgust, turning your body to the side slightly, itching farther away from Billy.
"I... Don't dance..." You chuckled, your words quiet, barely audible against the sound the crowd of people ahead of you created.
"Oh, come on!" Billy yelled, throwing his arms in the air. You could tell he was trying to be funny, to be light-hearted and 'just another pal', but his actions made you flinch and your fight or flight mode activated. He sighed when you gave him no answer, scanning the party, his eyes resting on the horizon beyond the dancers.
"What about the ocean? Fancy a swim?" Billy nudged your shoulder and traced his fingertips across your exposed thigh, his eyebrow cocked in inquisition and at his answer you became frigid, your heart speeding beyond belief.
You hated the ocean. Ever since you were younger and your siblings had told you stories about 'little boys and girls who ventured in, never to be seen again'. You knew they were only messing but there was something about the open expanse of nothingness, the haunting whistle of the wind skimming the surface and the creatures that lurked below watching you frolock and have fun.
It sent shivers down your spine.
"I don't swim..." You spoke simply, not giving your boyfriend the satisfaction of a proper answer and he grew impatient - tutting and sighing heavy at your response.
"Well what do you do? Jeez, Y/N, I knew you were a prude but now you're acting like a Goddamn nun!" He thrust himself up, pacing the sand in front of you, his nostrils flaring with anger.
"Well at least I'm not the type to sleep with the first guy who gets me drunk enough to fuck!" You stood to meet Billy, a sudden surge of rage flooding your veins and he stopped at your outburst, looking down and shaking his head in defeat.
After a moment he spoke. "Hey, I love you, you know..." He raised his finger, his voice hard, teeth gritted and you scoffed at his declaration- shrugging the blanket from your shoulders, an unexpected heat warming your body.
"Love... You love me, Billy? If you loved me you wouldn't fuck ten different girls in the same night. And pay me no fucking attention..." You turned round - an attempt to hide your glazed eyes from Billy - and brought your hand to your head, a slight tremble running the length of your arm.
"Hey..." Billy became quiet, taking your elbow in his palm, spinning you to face him, tears pricking at your eyes. "I do love you..." Shaking your head, you pulled away from his grip, your lip quivering slightly. "Please, baby..." You became weak at Billy's words and collapsed into his arms, your cheek pushed against his chest. He brought his lips to your crown, placing a kiss on your hair before you pulled away, gazing into his eyes - yours glazed at the tears spilling over the brim.
"Friends?" Billy pushed his lip out, his eyebrows raised and you giggled, nuzzling your face into his chest once more - deeply inhaling his musky scent.
However, you knew it was too good to be true. Just as quickly as you had become 'friends', Billy had taken you in his arms and flung you over his shoulder - one hand resting at the back of your legs and the other clamped tightly on your ass. At first, you thought he was going to take you to one of the abandoned cars and prove his love for you, however he walked away from your blanket, away from the fire pits and toward the shore.
"Billy, what are you doing!" You kicked your legs in protest, slapping your palms against the nape of his back, trying to angle your neck around his waist to see his destination. But once Billy spoke, the colour drained from your face and your limbs suddenly became limp.
"Y/N here, doesn't like the sea, Everybody!" He yelled to the crowds, removing his hand from your legs and raising it high in the air, trying to gain a rouse from the party. The people booed once they heard Billy's decleration, a mixture of drugs and alcohol clouding their judgement, making them zombies to Billy's chants. "Who doesn't like the sea?" His voice grew louder, deep chuckles laced through his words and you began to thrash against his body, screaming Bloody Mary into his back, begging him to drop you onto the sand.
However, Billy clearly wasn't listening. He sped up, practically running toward the shore, your figure bouncing awkwardly on his shoulder and you watched as the crowds of people became smaller, the fire pits you had found safety in now nothing but a blur.
Nearing the ocean, your eyes followed the party goers as they trailed in your wake, beer bottles and lighters held high in the air, the racket they made carrying on the sea breeze.
"Billy, stop, what the hell are you doing...!" You thrashed again against his back, kicking your legs wildly in protest, the breaths you took laboured due to Billy's shoulder pressing against your stomach.
"Jeez, it's just a bit of fun. Lighten up, Y/N" You were appaled at Billy's behaviour, a steady stream of tears now flooding against your cheek as you came to a stop - Billy turning his head to see the crowds catching up.
"Please, Bill, please don't do this..." The pleads fled from your lips now, hitched sobs catching in your throat.
"Who thinks... I should throw Y/N in the sea?!" Billy ignored your begs and instead turned to the crowd, your eyes forced upon the vast expanse of ocean ahead of you. It made your body tense up, the thick line of the horizon sending shivers down your spine and doing somersaults with your stomach.
The crowd jeered at Billy's question, as though he was in a Gladiator ring, hyping the audience up for the fight that was about to ensue.
"I'll take that as a yes!" Billy yelled and the party screamed louder than they had all night, bellowing chants of 'Do it!' taking over your senses, ensnaring your mind.
"Hey, Man, just stop..." Just as Billy had taken you from his shoulder, a voice spoke up over the crowd and a silver-haired boy wormed his way out, his hand held steady in front of him. You recognized the boy to be Peter Maximoff, a friend of your brothers - 'A lousy lay-about' according to your father. As he moved toward you, the chants died down, the audience becoming enthrawled in the scene that was about to play out.
"And who the fuck are you?" Billy questioned, gobsmacked that someone would call him out for his actions; in his mind, Billy would always be untouchable.
"Don't-Don't treat your girl like that, man. She's scared, look at her!" Billy was now cradling you in his arms and Peter held his hand out to you as if you were an exhibit in a museum for everybody to oogle at. Your cheeks flushed crimson at the sudden attention and Billy gazed down at you, his nostrils flaring at Peter's accusations.
"Bill..." You uttered, but you knew it was pointless, your words ringing as nothing more than white noise in your boyfriends mind - the Maximoff boy forcing him into a state of anger. Before you knew it, you were on the ground, Billy striding over you and squaring up to his opponent, their noses mere millimeters apart.
He had dropped you with no regard to your well-being and a discarded glass from a party of days past cut into your palm - a stream of crimson flowing from the gash. You clasped your hand to your palm, teeth gritted, eyes wincing at the pain coursing through your body.
"And what the fuck do you know about my girl?" Billy was now circling the boy, his eyes looking him up and down, sizing up the meal he was about to tuck into. Peter scoffed at the question and you watched as he closed the gap between himself and Billy while you held your palm, a searing heat coursing up your arm.
"I know you don't deserve a girl like that..." Peter had barely finished his sentence before Billy had spat on the ground in front of him, an inhumane way of marking his territory: You were his girl. Billy's girl.
"...You could never deserve a girl like that..."
The crowd surrounding the boys stirred, soft 'ooh's' carrying on the air.
"Get the fuck outta' my face..." Billy spoke through gritted teeth, nostrils flared like a bull in a ring, a red flag waving dead ahead.
"Or what, Man? You'll hurt me like you were gonna' hurt your girl?" You had never taken Peter to be cocky or one for a fight. In your mind he was simply your brothers friend - a guy who liked games and sci-fi. Not the man who you witnessed before you.
Billy was now face to face with Peter, their chests pressed tightly together, eyes locked in an unforgiving stare.
"I said get the fuck out-" Billy was interrupted by a sharp sock to the jaw - Peter pulling his arm back just enough to send the lug stumbling back, clasping his cheek in shock.
"You don't treat your girl like that. Or next time it'll be much worse..." Your mouth hung open at Peter's actions, all assumptions you had of him melting away - a new, darker image of the boy replacing those images in your mind.
He walked over to you, his hand held out for you to take, and he left Billy in his wake - reduced to nothing but a stuttering mess. The crowd laughed gently at Billy's predicament - however not loud enough for him to curse out induviduals. In their minds, he still had a temper he was always willing to abuse.
Taking Peter's hand, he pulled you up and took your wounded paw in his palms, inspecting the gash as he empathetically sucked air through his gritted teeth.
"Come on, let's get you out of here..." He uttered, barely audible above the dispersing crowds conversations and Billy's barks - who was now jumping with rage, punching the air as he did so. You ignored the screams of the Hargrove boy, however, focussing your attention solely on Peter.
"Jeez, you must be freezing!" He suddenly spoke up, his realisation of the temperature flitting across his mind. He pulled his coat off - a silver leather jacket - and draped it around your shoulders - the material providing more warmth than the blanket Billy had gifted you with ever could. With this, Peter held his palm to the nape of your neck, holding your wounded hand in his - a soft smile curving his lips as he watched the gentle footfalls you took.
"You'll pay for this, Maximoff! Mark my words, you'll fucking pay!" In this moment, Billy was a distant memory in your mind - nothing more than a blanket that couldn't provide you the warmth you so desperately required.
With Peter guiding your steps, you walked back to the beach; back to the blankets and the firepits. And back to safety.