#Billy x f reader

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader -> reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 GAMES

EDIT: shit i forgot this was in queue 😓 merry christmas i guess (if you celebrate)

Her fingers worked furiously, eyebrows furrowed and lip tucked between her teeth as she breathed heavily, "Fuck!" She groaned, leaning back against the chair as she threw her head back against the headrest softly. Her fingers slowed to a halt, stopping her moments entirely to breathe for a moment.

"GAME OVER," the screen read, flashing white for a moment before it asked if she wanted to play again. And, of course, she pressed, "YES." Billie had been at this for what felt like an eternity, playing some stupid video game instead of paying attention to you. Not even your lazy attempts at bringing her water worked, and it was starting to irritate you intensely.

So, you finally pull the oldest trick in the book: Whining her name lowly, lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed as you squirmed on the bed. Her posture was quickly fixed as the sound reached her ears, fingers pausing once again on the controller she held so possessively. Then, the screen paused, and Billie finally set the controller down on her desk, spinning around in her chair.

Her eyes landed on you immediately, clad in only your undergarments as it was almost midnight. Way past the usual time you and her fell asleep, "What's wrong, Ma?" She asks, voice husky due to the insane amount of yelling she'd done in the past few hours. Her tank top hugs her chest perfectly, and as she stretches, you can't help but stare at the dragon tattoo that peeks out as the fabric rides up.

She yawns quietly before manspreading, hands resting on her clothed thighs. She hadn't even gotten ready for bed before she started the game, and even that was irritating you. You whine again, your pout deepening, "Want'chu in bed, Bills..."

Billie's lips curl into a smirk at your tone, her tattooed hand coming up to run through her soft hair. It doesn't even take you ten seconds to scurry into her lap whenever she motions you over with her two fingers, clinging to her body like you hadn't seen her in a million years—Because that's what it felt like. Her head nuzzles into your neck, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume as her hands wrap around your waist, holding you possessively.

Your body shakes slightly, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of her touch for the first time in a few hours, earning a quiet, amused chuckle from your girlfriend, "Someone's excited to see me, hm?" Billie comments, one of her ring-covered hands coming down to pat your ass softly. Your hips buck subconsciously, arms wrapping tighter and tighter around her body as your breath becomes uneven.

"Jus' missed you," quickly falls from between your lips, voice quiet and laced with sleep and something else. Something she can't quite put her finger on. Your eyes flutter shut as you relax in her embrace, your hips continuing the slow, grinding movements against Billie's lap. It's only when you mewl straight into her ear that she notices what you're doing and what you're feeling, "I can tell."

Your arousal leaks through your panties, coating a small patch of her sweatpants. Billie gasps just to humiliate you, "Missed you—Bills, missed you s'much." You babble, hips starting to move faster with the help of your girlfriend's hands guiding your movements, "Wan'—Need you, baby," you cry softly, voice breaking. Billie stays silent, her breathes becoming heavy, head falling back against her headrest.

"Yeah?" She asks, voice teasing and raspy. Her nails dig into your hips, eyes locking onto yours as she pulled away from your neck, "Well, c'mon, show me how much y'missed me, babygirl." She nods her head towards your trembling figure, a devious smirk playing on her lips. Your cunt clenches around nothing, clit throbbing with each movement of your hips, head lolling back and revealing more of your neck, "S—So mm..much!"

"Missed you too, sweetie," she mutters, biting her bottom lip as her hands continue to rock you back and forth on her lap. She's already dripping herself, and she swears she could cum just from the sight of you alone, "Sorry for bein' so distracted. Didn't mean to ignore my pretty baby's needy pussy." You huff at her words, sweat beginning to bead on your hairline, "Gonna cum—cum f'you, Bills!—"

Her hands are quick to halt your grinding hips, heart beating rapidly in her chest as she looks up at you with that same mischievous glint in her eye that never left. She spun her chair back around, hands leaving your hips to grab her controller once again. God, you never thought you'd be able to hate an inanimate object as much as you hated that stupid controller.

"One more game." She breathes into your ear, kissing your jawline, "Then I'll treat you better than ever."

𐙚 amiyaps : how not to hate every single thing I EVER WRITE

𐙚 tags : @sophloveswomen @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[realangelahernandez]

When he’s written by Lana del Rey

[the-thing-withfeathers]

know your worth

a/n: thank you to the anon that requested thisss!! this is my first time around writing some angst for billie so it was actually a cool learning experience hehe. there will 100% be a part two to this.

part 2

request

pairing: billie eilish x reader

warnings: annngggst, toxic relationship, billie neglecting you, cursing, arguments.

summary: billie’s been neglecting you recently to the point of standing you up sometimes and you finally decide to say something about it.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you stood outside the restaurant you were supposed to meet billie outside of, in the rain, in the cold.

you had spent too long waiting for her to the point where you felt embarrassed when the waiters would check on you. you just decided to leave without grabbing anything to eat, making sure to leave an apologetic tip.

you finally called it when you opened up instagram after texting & calling relentlessly. you saw that she was partying with her friends on one of their stories. your look of disappointment was one that was hard to miss. tears started to form in your eyes when you realised your girlfriend either forgot about you or didn’t care at all. both were equally as painful.

you took an uber here as you & billie were going to drive back together in the car you two often shared when she wasn’t been escorted in limos. you had no time to wait for one so you whistled and called a taxi instead.

it took everything in you to hold back crying so that the poor taxi driver didn’t have to witness the mess you were.

while in the back of the taxi, you thought about how this all started in the first place.

billie had come home after a long year’s tour, you were waiting for her at the airport. it was pure bliss to feel her arms wrap around you again for the first time in a long time. you lifted her into the air and spun her around.

despite her being home from tour though, she still worked everyday. she spent time in the studio and it felt like days would never end. you did work too but you got home much earlier than she did. however, it was comforting knowing she would come straight home to you. you would greet her with home-cooked meals, already doing most of the housework. she was grateful at first, but then you noticed her mood started to change.

she started just going straight to bed, ignoring your meal that you had set up for the two of you. you would join her in bed but she’d shelter from any touch you tried to give her even if it was just a cuddle. you started suggesting date nights like movies but she always gave the excuse of being too tired. part of you felt horrible for feeling neglected as you know how hard she worked and if you were in her place, you’d be tired too.

you started to tell your friends about this. they made you see that you worked long days too despite coming home earlier, but you still made an effort. you had no idea why billie was suddenly acting this way.

even more pain came when you realised that she was free some nights, you just had no idea. she spent those nights partying with her friends, without you there. sometimes you’d even see her getting close to some other girl in a video your mutual friend took. you felt your heart break at the thought that maybe billie just outgrew you.

when you arrived home, you handed the cash to the driver, quickly making your way back to your apartment. you slammed the door behind you, leaning your back against it. you finally get the tears go, finding it harder to breathe.

you had gotten dolled up in hopes that she may finally choose you just for one night.

you ran into your shared bedroom, swinging open the closet door and grabbing a bag for yourself. you started packing some clothes just to last you a couple of nights, you rang one of your closest friends asking them if you could stay the night.

you heard them sigh at the other end of the phone, knowing they were holding back an “i told you so.” or maybe even an “about time.” you just weren’t in the mood to hear it. they understood that and just responded with an “of course you can stay.”

you felt humiliated that you allowed yourself to put up with it for as long as you did. you just loved billie too much to give up now. your relationship was hard work, you’d hate for it to become futile.

you just wanted the girl you fell in love with back. the girl that had an endless list of romantic gestures to surprise you with, the girl that used to write songs about you and perform them before she showed it to anyone else, the girl that loved you just as much as you loved her. you missed that side of billie, and you wondered if maybe that girl was too far gone.

you heard the door swing open, soft footsteps making their way across your apartment. you felt yourself freeze, fight or flight kicking in. for the first time in your life, you were scared of billie. not scared of what she might do but scared because it was practically like interacting with a stranger. you had no idea what she might say to the sight of you packing up to leave her.

would she be mad? would she let you go? would she try to fight? all those questions terrified you. the uncertainty scared the living daylights out of you.

you finished up packing your clothes just as she entered your bedroom.

“hey baby, what’s going on?” she asked, slurring her words a little bit. she was inebriated, of course she was. you didn’t answer her, making your way to the bathroom to grab your toiletries.

“baby.” she said, a bit more firm. you stuttered in your step when the nickname came out of her mouth but shook it away. she just looked confused at you when you chucked them into your bag.

“i’m done, bils.” you said, grinding your teeth as you zipped your bag shut. you walked to your bedside table to grab your chargers. “i’m done being treated like shit.”

“c’mon baby, i don’t treat you like shit.” she said, letting out a dry chuckle as a smile formed. “you’re being dramatic.”

“really?!” you said, angry. your tears started to form again, you tried to hold them back as you didn’t want to show weakness in front of her. “you fucking ditched me today, i was all alone in that restaurant waiting for you.”

her smile suddenly faded. she forgot. she didn’t care. you didn’t know.

“i’m so busy, baby. you can’t seriously expect me to be perfect and remember all our dates.” she tried to make up an excuse. you were hurt that she didn’t even apologise.

“busy enough to go to a party with your friends?” you snapped, aggressively shoving your charger into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “be so fucking for real right now, billie. you didn’t forget. you just don’t give a shit anymore.”

“oh fuck you!” she said, pointing at you. “if i didn’t give a shit about you, you wouldn’t even be here right now!” she yelled.

“wow. that shows me how fucking disposable income am then. i didn’t realise you saw me that way.” you said, walking past her and shoulder bumping her. “after everything i’ve done, how can you say that?!” you asked, turning around to look at her, standing in the living room.

you should have walked away, but given the fact that this is the most attention billie’s shown you, you wanted to stay and fight.

“you know what? you are disposable. i could have anyone! they’d be okay with me going out and partying.” she scoffed.

“yeah? well when you find someone that loves you just as much as i do despite you neglecting them, you let me know!”

“i will!” she said, walking closer to you. “i bet it won’t be hard.”

you laughed, anger seeping through your voice. “fuck you, billie. maybe you can go ask that girl you were grinding on at that party last week. tell me, did you sleep with her? is that why you’re being like this? did you cheat?”

“no, i didn’t. but maybe i should have, she was more fun than you’ll ever be. at least she wasn’t a damn shut in with no life.” she spat out.

you went quiet, did billie actually say that to you?

you were so hurt by her words, you thought you had been a good enough partner to her. maybe you weren’t enough for her, and the thought of that brought you to your breaking point.

“fuck…” you whimpered out, covering your mouth. “you’ve changed so much… you’re not the girl i fell in love with anymore…”

she scoffed at you, “well maybe i should’ve been this way all along. i feel good like this.”

“fine… be that way.” you said, turning around and twisting the door knob.

“you’re nothing without me! you love being useful to me” she called after you. “where are you gonna go?!” she asked.

“anywhere but here.” you slammed the door shut as you made your way out of your apartment, leaving the love of your life behind.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

billie woke up the next morning, groaning with a pounding headache that she couldn’t seem to best. she didn’t remember much about the party last night— nor did she remember the argument you had.

she only remembered when she opened up your shared closet to get dressed and found the majority of your clothes missing.

“oh… oh fuck.” she said, grabbing her phone and immediately trying to call you. it went straight to unavailable. she started to send a few texts.

‘baby, baby, i’m so so sorry.’

‘please answer my calls.’

‘please call me.’

‘i’m so sorry, please forgive me. i didn’t mean it.’

she went straight to social media, trying to find you but noticing that you had blocked her on most of your accounts. she found herself starting to cry, all the regret building up in her chest.

her tears fell onto her phone as she searched for any way to contact you. she sat down on the bed you used to share, it still smelled like you. her head was in her hands, she was trying to figure out where you could have gone in hopes of going there and talking to you. but because she hadn’t been around you, she wouldn’t know which of your close friends or relatives would house you.

she had stopped her crying, making it her mission to find you today. she had gotten dressed and her muscle memory took over, swinging the fridge door open in hopes of finding some leftovers of one of your famous home-cooked meals that you would have tucked away. her tears started to fall again when she realised there was nothing there waiting for her.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

it had been a week since you left your apartment. billie found it to be an incredibly insufferable week.

she had gotten home that week in a pissy mood, chucking her keys into the table beside the door and dumping her bag on the floor.

she had noticed that the apartment had changed, everything was suddenly clean. this past week, she hadn’t gotten the chance to clean anything up or do any chores. she heard running water from the kitchen and practically sprinted over there.

she found you placing the last dish onto the drying rack.

“baby.” she said, a relieved sigh leaving her lips. “i’m so glad you’re okay.”

“i’m just here to pick up the rest of my stuff.” you said, sighing a less relieved sigh, it was more of a disappointed one. you had hoped to be gone before she returned.

“you don’t have to go, please. we can work this out.” she begged you. you wouldn’t even turn to look at her.

“we can’t. not with the way you’ve handled this. there’s nothing to work out.” you finally turned around to look at her. your eyes looked tired and your face drooped in sadness, she still thought you were incredibly beautiful.

“but i’m sorry… i’m just so sorry.” she stepped towards you but you walked past her into the bedroom you used to call yours.

“sorry’s just not going to cut it, billie.” you said, picking up a box of your things. “i don’t think you understand how much you’ve hurt me. the things you said? they really pushed me over the edge. i thought that maybe i was the terrible person. but i was wrong, you were treating me horribly.”

“i can change, i promise.” billie cried out, trying to stop you from leaving.

“please move, bils.” you asked her, your eyes going soft. the nickname made her weak to her knees, she loved when you called her that. she stepped aside, sniffling softly.

“please… give me the chance to change.” she walked after you.

“i believe you can change, billie. i know you can. i just don’t think i can stick around for it.” you sighed, opening the door with your free hand. “maybe the next person that you find yourself with will reap the benefits of your change.” you said, walking out the door and closing it behind you.

she fell to her knees as the door closed. from that moment onwards, she vowed to change for the better. but she wanted the person that reaped the benefits to be you.

and you only.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a/n: part 2 with billie redemption arc incomingg!

[salv12dexter]

Y'all literally write fanfics like you're men. How is it that in your own fantasy world, you're not getting pleasure from it? With every reader x character, it's you pleasuring the character. Women write fanfics like how men view porn.

You're so feminist that even in your own fantasies, you think that you are ugly and that this character would never want you. So unless they're degrading, using, and beating you. That's the only true way you think that they could ever desire you.

I'm not even going to get started on the of-age-reader x underage characters because if I need to tell you why that's wrong, you need to be put on a watch list.

[sadhours]

dirty laundry

billy hargrove x fem!reader

masterlist • requests open

cw: 18+ minors dni, established relationship, smut, public sex, swallowing c*m hehehe I missed billy

🧡🧡🧡🧡

it’s kind of fitting. after a weekend of partying, you had to do some laundry. so monday morning, 9 AM, you’re sitting in the laundromat beside your boyfriend. you’re hungover. billy smokes a Marlboro and the smell is making you nauseous. you’re nursing a sprite he’d bought you from the vending machine. he has a coke. you’re somewhat regretting not indulging in the breakfast beer billy offered you but the thought of the booze had made your stomach twist something wicked. the shitty speakers spill a tinny “dirty laundry” by don henley.

“this songs actually pretty badass,” billy mumbles around the butt of his smoke, tapping his scuffed motorcycle boots.

you frown, “i like don henley.”

your boyfriend laughs, it’s a loud bellow and you really wish you had that beer to dull the headache splitting your head. but you love his laugh.

“like him like you’d suck his dick or…?” he teases and you roll your eyes despite the way it pains you.

“no, not my type,” you grumble. “i like his music.”

there’s a liquor store two stores up. you keep rubbernecking out the window at it and your boyfriend picks up on it. he reaches over and squeezes your knee, “regretting not having a beer with me this morning?”

“a little,” you gripe, “the lights are too bright, your cigarette stinks and i’m so tired.”

billy leans close to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed. he looks adorable, even though he’s condescending you. “want me to go get baby a shot and a beer?”

“would you?” you ask, all wide eyed in a silent beg you know gets him.

he smirks, leans forward and bites your nose. it pulls a giggle from you which is exactly what you need. “i’ll be back,” he grabs your face and squeezes it before pulling away and heading out the door, it chimes with his steps. you lean back and watch his ass saunter down the sidewalk in his too-tight Levi’s.

once he disappears into the liquor store, you bring your attention back to the washing machine. watching as your clothes spin in circles, which doesn’t do anything positive for the spinning happening in your gut so you look away quickly. billy’s hard to keep up with but you’ve never had so much fun in your life. and he’s so sweet, really, when he wants to be. you’d kind of saved him when you brought up him moving him after only a month of hooking up. you were shocked when he jumped at the opportunity but that was before you met neil. it makes sense now. your boyfriend is free to be himself, and you love every bit of him.

he’s quick in the liquor store, returning and hopping up on the row of unused washing machines opposite the chair you’re sitting in. he opens up the black plastic back and displays a little bottle of Jack Daniels.

“come get your hair of the dog, baby,” he says in a seductive voice, all low as he wiggles his eyebrows. you extend your hand and then his brows furrow, “I got you trained better than that. C’mere, girl.”

you exhale with a frustrated sigh but obey your sexy beyond belief boyfriend. standing up and taking the few short steps to situate yourself between his thighs.

“atta girl,” he purrs, opening the shooter and pressing it to your lips, “head back, foxy.”

you lean your head back, downing the shot in a quick three gulps. he hums, all satisfied as he watches. the whiskey isn’t sitting in your tummy the best but the way billy chases forward and licks a drip off your chin quells any sickness. he follows it with a filthy kiss, tongue dragging against yours as his right hand grabs the back of your head, knitting his fingers into the roots of your hair and tugs lightly. a helpless little whine escapes from your throat but billy swallows it, smiling into the dirty kiss. once he pulls away, he smirks, eyes darker than before.

“better?”

you nod, biting your lip as you look to him. billy retrieves the shooter he bought for himself and downs it easily, like it doesn’t make his stomach curl. then he hands you a tall can of beer, opens it for you before he does. you take an eager sip to get the bitterness of the whiskey off your tongue. billy chuckles, it’s deep and rattles his chest. he nudges his nose against yours, “i know that look.”

“s’your fault,” you mumble, cheeks hot as you admit, “‘cause you kissed me like that.”

billy hums, hooks his knuckle under your chin and tilts your head up a bit. “like this?” he whispers back before pressing his lips to yours hungrily. licks into your mouth like you’re not in public and has your spine tingling, thighs warm and cunt aching. you respond by kissing him back just as desperately, putting your beer down beside him before both your hands move to grip his white t-shirt. his mouth tastes like whiskey, cigarettes and Billy. You get lost in it, moaning pathetically as you make out like a couple of high school kids.

Then the dryer buzzes, loud and jarring. You pull away, groaning softly before strutting over to the machine. You open it, grabbing a cart and wheeling it over. You tug all the clothes into basket, reaching in deep and wiggling your ass because you can feel your boyfriends eyes on it. You don’t even realize he’s jumped off the washers and made his way behind you until he’s kicking the cart away and grabbing onto your hips.

“you missed something,” he tells you, all nonchalant.

“huh?” you peer inside the massive dryer but you don’t see anything. billy’s hips meet the fat of your ass, pushing your upper half deeper into the machine.

“it’s really in there,” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. his other hand presses on the middle of your back, bending you over completely into the dryer. “almost there, you’re so close.”

you giggle, knowing exactly what you’re asshole of a boyfriend is doing. he pulls your leggings down to your thighs, moving his hand to rub your pussy through your underwear. you moan softly, still playing his game as you pretend to reach for the clothing he says in deep in there. billy’s impatient though, tugs your underwear down with your leggings. feels the slick collecting at your hole and hums, rubbing his fingers in circles at your entrance. his fingers are so thick, you can feel him stretching your hole just from the teasing. hangover suddenly forgotten, you’re spreading your legs and silently begging for him to slide inside you.

billy teases, “aw… keep reaching, baby… you’re almost there.”

his middle and ring finger slip inside your dripping cunt, the stretch delicious and intoxicating in their own right. he drags the pads of his fingers against your walls, pushing in and pulling out. your brains already fuzzy, eyes rolling back before your lids flutter shut. he laughs, soft and sultry as he fucks you with his fingers. out in the open. anyone can walk in here or hell, walk by and see your boyfriend bending you into the industrial dryer and fingering you senseless. the rush of it only make your cunt slicker.

he scissors his fingers, stretching your hole open wider as he smoothes his other hand over the expanse of your back.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” billy exhales, his voice echoing slightly into the drum of the dryer. hits your ears something fierce. has you pushing your ass back at him. you moan out, nails dragging against the metal of the dryer as he finger fucks you open.

you don’t even hear the sound of his zipper or the shuffle of him pushing his jeans back. suddenly he’s pulling his fingers out and you feel the round, thick tip of his cock pushing at your pussy.

“fuck, billy,” you gasp, arching your back just slightly.

“atta girl,” he purrs, “so wet and desperate for my cock, yeah?”

“yeah— ah!” your response is hijacked by a moan, result of billy snapping his hips forward and completely sheathing his girthy cock in your fluttering hole.

he groans, a vibrating and sexy sound. let’s you know you feel so so so good for him. he doesn’t go slow, a hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip as he bullies his cock deep in your walls. billy always makes you feel like such a desperate slut. knows he can use and abuse your hole whenever and however. and how the fuck could you say no? the stretch is fucking unworldly. his cock is a goddamn masterpiece. crafted by the gods themselves to help please. if there ain’t nothing else to live for, billy’s cock is all you need.

once he’s inside you, you’re fucking gone. cockdrunk in a second. his hands move to knead at your ass as he pummels into you. rough and reckless. so billy. reality slips, you’re not even thinking about how the two of you are in a public place. fucking so filthy, so rough where there’s nowhere to hide. if you get caught, you get caught and you don’t fucking care. both so zoned in on getting off.

your hips slightly ache from where they bounce against the edge of the dryer but the sensation of Billy deep in your cunt dulls any pain. his cock pulsing as it drags in and out of your fluttering walls. you squeeze him, want him buried so deep and dirty.

“that’s it, slut,” he groans, voice deep as it bounces around the drum of the deeper, “taking my cock like a good girl.”

you whine back, not able to do much else. there’s no way you could form sensible thoughts. you ache to tell him how fucking good it feels but it’s useless, would fumble out of your mouth like word soup because billy fucks you stupid.

it’s a fucking joke when he moves his hand around your hip to rub at your clit. his goal is to get you to cum as quick as he can, because once those skilled fingers start strumming against your clit, your legs are shaking and your voice is uncontrollable in the moans bellowing from you.

“you gonna cum for me?” he chuckles, circles firm and quick against your clit, “so easy. such an easy slut for me, ain’t ya?”

“billy…” you cry in a plea, a whiny and pathetic sound. you’re on the edge, you can see it. each little stroke of his fingers and each drag of his cock against your tight walls threatens to toss you over it.

“ya wanna cum?” he spits, fingers working faster, “cream all over my cock, be a good slut for daddy.”

that sends you. a deep breath and sinking over the edge you go, crying out in absolute ecstasy as his cock works you overtime. drags your orgasm out with his fingers not letting up. you’re dead weight after, billy’s hands moving to your hips to hold you up as he barrels his cock faster and faster into your sensitive cunt. he pulls back rather quickly, grabbing your hair and pulling you out of the dryer.

“on your knees,” he instructs and you obey, hands on his thighs to steady you as you stick your tongue out flat. eyes wide and needy as you gaze up at your boyfriend. a curl has fallen into the center of his forehead, blue eyes dark with lust as he fingers move to grip his cock, jerking it in quick and firm strokes. “that’s it, good girl, yeah…”

he busts, spilling cum into your eager tongue. you love the taste of billy’s cum. abnormally sweet for a guy whose diet consists of booze and red meat. and when billy cums, he doesn’t close his eyes. he stares down at you, his lips part and you can see the swell of his tongue against his lower lip as he moans. you swallow, licking your lips so you don’t miss any.

he reaches for the back of your hand, scratching at the back of your scalp as he smiles warmly down at you. after a beat of lovingly looking at each other, you both get dressed. you plant a sloppy kiss on his lips before moving to transfer the load from the washer into the dryer. billy sits on the chairs and lights up another cigarette.

“you’re something else, foxy,” he grins, cheeks flushed all pretty.

[chvoswxtch]

the manhattan murders

status: [completed]

summary: three years ago, you left your hometown of woodsboro for new york to start over, but when people around you start dying, you realize a ghost from your past has returned.

a/n: it’s spooky slutty season, so let’s get spooky and slutty! y’all know scream is my favorite horror movie, so to celebrate the wonderful month of october, i’m dropping this slasher mini series set in a ghostface!au with the spooky slut himself, billy russo. this will be a six part series, and the drop schedule is below. I also made a lil soundtrack to go with the series just for funsies to get y’all in the spooky slutty mood ;)

content warnings: i want to reiterate once again that this series is going to be darker in theme. it’s a slasher, so there’s gonna be murder and gore and violence and all that jazz. it also contains mentions of past domestic abuse, and of course, it’s gonna get real slutty, bc you gotta have a lil treat with your tricks

i will post specific warnings for each part, but if any of these themes could be potentially for triggering you, please sit this one out. you’re not gonna hurt my feelings, i promise. if darker themes and slashers aren’t your thing, that’s totally fine. it’s not for everyone. again, you’re not gonna hurt my feelings. for those of you who haven't signed up for the taglist yet and would like to, you can find it here

»— anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.

»— all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.

part one: the call

part two: the secret

part three: the camera*

part four: the massacre

part five: the ghost from the past*

part six: the final girl*

the manhattan murders soundtrack

[reveluving]

can i go rabid in your inbox…not a request just imagine billy x reader x kessler…🥴 the contrast of billy being rough but ultimately wanting you to feel good and finish, and kessler being faux sympathetic ‘aww, you poor thing :(((‘ and keeping it just out of reach…hell yeah

- the benny/rick puffing out chests anon (i still go back and read that! 🩵)

me: *sighing, opening the kessler gdoc I already had and scrolling to the bottom because you know damn well I’d elaborate on this. and a girl’s gotta eat too!!*

addict ; billy butcher x reader x joe kessler

includes: s~mut obv (minors DNI!)

a/n: okay but HOLY SHIT, BENNY/RICK CHEST PUFFING ANON??? IT’S BEEN WHAT, TWO YEARS SINCE THAT ASK? bless you, hun! I sincerely hope you’re doing well, please know I giggled and kicked my feet in my bed to this, and the fact that you still come back to the rick series!! 😭❤️

fancy reading something new? check out my full m.list!

smut includes: mm4f, size kink, ‘softer’!dom butcher & slightly meaner!dom kessler are equally nasty, petnames, dirty talking, cunnilingus, edging, overstimulation, sq~uirting, voyeurism & exhibitionism, spanking (once), brief mentions of age gap (legal & consenting!!), bj & unprotected s~ex (p in v), butcher & kessler are absolutely obsessed over you!!

Butcher had an obsession with the way you moaned in his ear as he had you on your back. His large frame concealed yours as his hips moved, his thrusts deep but his pace torturously slow. Like Kessler, he loved how your voice pitched higher each time he bottomed out into you, begging him to let you cum in incoherent murmurs. Seeing his team’s pretty little ace writhing underneath his old buddy was almost as exhilarating as any combined operation he had ever faced. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Butcher cooed condescendingly, tilting your head up by your jaw so Kessler, who was lazily pumping his cock as he sat on the chair he had dragged beside the bed could see your tears. If your eyes weren’t brimming with tears, blocking both your vision and mind, you would’ve tried to avert your gaze from Kessler’s heated ones. 

“Billy, please…” You sobbed. 

Butcher was dying to have you when it all started, and he would’ve had you first but he wanted to drag your orgasm. Make you yearn for release, only to cry out in frustration ever so cutely each time he slowed his pace, and despite what one would believe, he would’ve surrendered to your cries much quicker, giving you what you, or at the very least, teasing you just a little bit longer before giving you what you needed then and there. Offering you sweet kisses and even sweeter reassurance as he kissed your neck. 

But Kessler wanted to put your limitations to the test, and you knew you were in for a wild ride when he suggested it with a playful glint in his eye. 

Even so, he took great consideration for your well-being, immediately asking Butcher for the safeword and both of them reminding you to use it if you ever needed to stop at any point. A calm before the storm, before he pushed you onto the bed and restrained you with his arms on your thighs, then latched his lips onto your sensitive clit. 

When Kessler had you on your back, flicking his tongue along your lips and grumbling into your pussy, causing your legs to tense and tremble, Butcher sat by your head. Leaning in to kiss wherever his lips could reach, praising you with zero filter while his hands alternated between roaming your luscious body to holding your hands to your head each time Kessler’s tongue had you particularly jumpy. 

“Y'hear that?” Kessler lightly slapped your pussy, his fingers covered in your slick and his saliva the more he patted your sensitive bud. He and Butcher shared a chuckle, and you would’ve attempted to shut your legs if not for Kessler’s adamant grip.

Butcher needed in, so he sat behind you, pulling you onto his lap so he could be with you as physically close as possible. 

With Kessler’s fingers glistening with your juices, he offered his digits to your lips.

“Go on,” Butcher rasped in your ear as brushed his beard along your shoulder, “Taste y’self, so you’ll know why I love tongue fuckin’ you just as much as he does.”

And one thing led to another, after Kessler edged you for a while, topped with the way Butcher squeezed your tits and had the audacity to tell you not to cum just yet, you were already mush in their arms. It wasn't until you looked up at Butcher with your glossy, puppy dog eyes that he convinced Kessler to spare you the torture. 

But with how long they refused your orgasm, you couldn’t control the spurt that had the men who worshipped you the way America did with their golden boy laughing and cheering for your release.

“‘Atta girl,” Kessler praised, swiping and stimulating your sensitive folds to force the very last droplets of your juices into his mouth and chin, “Atta girl.”

You were practically melting in Butcher’s arms, letting him kiss your cheek, jaw and neck before turning your head to press his lips onto yours. 

Kessler’s stubble tickled your thighs and hipbone, his calloused hands slowly sliding up your body before reaching for your hand. You felt his lips against the pads of your fingers before bringing them in between your legs. You felt Butcher smile against your lips when you whined at the embarrassing squelch, but they perked up at the noise.

“Up.” Butcher murmured as soon as he pulled away. You blinked sluggishly, seeing his eyes dart to your fingers. You brought your hand to his face and he immediately wrapped his lips around your fingers, unabashed with the sounds of suckling and groaning that mingled with Kessler’s. You were practically clenching around nothing, and before you could voice out your frustration, Butcher captured your lips with his once more, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Feels nice, right?” Kessler smiled when you practically jerked at his knuckle nudging at your clit. You weren’t even sure if he was asking you or Butcher, “Just gotta tough it out, bud.”

“Shut it.” Butcher scoffed, but God, did he need you and he needed you now.

Butcher shot Kessler a glare when the latter playfully slapped your ass, though they both knew Butcher didn’t mind it one bit. Not when you let out an irresistible yelp, a reaction they hoped to hear more when they switched places, with Butcher already in Kessler’s place, but not before removing his pants while Kessler decided to sit back. As much as he wanted to feel you once more, he didn’t want to miss any of your reactions if he were to ever lose himself in his own pleasure. 

He knew he’d have just as much fun watching you front row seats, plus, he already had more plans for you soon. Whether he was going to have you once Butcher had his fill of you or if he would be impatient enough that he’d stand or kneel next to you so he could feel your perfect lips around his cock was uncertain. 

But with how addictive you were, he and Butcher knew none of them could wait to have you whole.

a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed this little piece of our two hunks. it’s pwp ‘cause do we REALLY need a reason to go to town with them? SHIT I wanna hear more about them or at least kessler 😩 pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[blushingamethyst]

Anti: You can’t be attracted to this character! They’re a murderer and they would never love you >:(

Me: Damn that’s crazy…

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ . ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Edit done by me ｡ ˚ 　ﾟ･｡･ ･ ｡･

[perfctvelvet]

Dominant Billie Eilish? 🙏 pretty please

The Games We Play; Billie Eilish/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, semi-toxic relationship, brief mentions of gaslight, implied infidelity, D/s elements, name calling ('slut'), degradation, teasing, strap-on sex, mentions of ass play, use of sex toys (vibrator).

"I've had enough of the games now, Y/n. You're starting to annoy me."

It was ironic to watch Billie sit at the table and sulk to herself as if she didn't get herself into this situation. These games that she claims to hate oh so much where the ones that she started and wanted to finish once she wasn't getting her way. You have just been with her for way too long not to be able to see her through and through. Billie hated the bitter taste of her own medicine, but she should've thought about that before she brushed you off when you asked about who that was on that instagram post.

You made her watch you flirt with a past fling all night. You could barely remember the lady's name when you two first bumped into her, but quickly she became valuable to you. All you had asked for was honesty about a post that was posted to tens of millions of people, but instead you were shut out. Billie brought this on herself, and it felt good to see her sitting there feeling sorry for you.

"Ooh, tell me more about your trip to Greece! I've been waiting to go, but sometimes it's hard when others won't cooperate with their schedules."

Billie was within earshot of the entire conversation and you didn't spare her one bit. You left her emotionally beaten and bruised every time you laid a hand on the body of someone you came close to being with years ago. Your attraction had faded greatly as you only had eyes for your girlfriend now, but Billie doesn't know that and at this moment anyone would think that the relationship was on its last legs. But just like you know Billie, she knows you too well for her own good. You were trying to make her feel the same way you did over an instagram post. Well, you had one the battle as your attempts to make Billie jealous was working, but Billie was well intentioned on winning the war.

Now as she confronts you about the only thing you can do is play dumb. You weren't going to give her the upper hand by outright admitting what you were doing. The way she dismissed you about posting photos of another girl damn near straddling her kept you up for days. Those 3 to 4 hours of sleep left you irritable and willing to do anything to get your point across. So in your eyes, you're not doing anything worse your girlfriend hasn't done.

"What are you talking about?" You asked her, cocking your head to the side and feigning innocence. 

Normally your pout was endearing but right now Billie wanted to fuck it off your face. Still surrounded by strangers who could possibly hear your conversation, Billie gives a deep sigh and she hangs her head down. It was a sign of utter defeat to you.

"Y/n," she sighs before leaning in and whispering, "You really want to do this right now?"

Those simple words were a warning shot. Billie didn't have to say much else. She didn't have to explain that she knows you after being together for two years. She didn't have to explain that they've done this song and dance before and that it's getting stale. Both are committed and faithful to this relationship, but sometimes things get hazy and the relationship is tested. Billie knows she's in the wrong, but getting those words to come out of her mouth is like pulling teeth. You two should be passed this stage, especially as you get older together, but clearly both of you are wrong. When one of you acts up, the other feels like they have no choice but to retaliate and somehow you're always the one always having to retaliate.

You don't want to hear it from her. You don't want to sit in the car on the way home and hear her give you some holier-than-thou speech as if she's the mature one in the relationship. It was easier to talk to you like that when you were side by side and she didn't have to look you in the eyes and act like she didn't do what she did. Did it feel good to flirt with someone you're no longer interested in? No, that part didn't feel good, but being able to glance over and see Billie sulking while surrounded by happy, partying people, it was better than any high or shot of alcohol here tonight.

"What am I doing? I'm at a party that you're ruining the vibe because you want to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Get up, go talk to your friends." You didn't have much else to say to her and she kept her mouth shut too. Billie had nothing to say. Have you succeeded?

Billie was never afraid to drag out an argument, even in a setting like this. There was the great texting fiasco of Summer 2023 that ended with you staying at your friend's place for the weekend. So she was uncharacteristically quiet now. And in a surprising move, she just smiled at you. Your faces were so close together you thought she was going to kiss, but instead she leaned back. She grabbed her glass filled with whatever she had and brought it to her lips. Never did she pull her eyes away from you and you felt your grip on the situation loosening. You don't know what it means for you, for tonight and for the future, but you stepped away from her. You turned your back to her and joined a group of mutual friends. The former fling you were flirting with was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter anymore. 

You felt Billie's eyes burning a hole right through you for the rest of the night. Despite the room being so loud, there was a ringing in your ears that dulled the sound of everything around you. You don't know how you were able to make it through the rest of the night acting like you usual self. The end of the night and car ride home were unbearable and equally silent. Billie's steady breathing was the only sound to fill your ears; so calm yet just as loud as the club's bass in your ears. The little battle you had earlier? It meant nothing now. Whatever victory you felt was replaced by the dread of worrying what was to come next. You expected a screaming match to take place as soon as the two of you crossed past that threshold into Billie's house. Instead Billie decided to do something she hasn't tried before. She was going to fuck the problem away.

Billie was pissed. The way she grabbed you, you don't think you've seen her so mad before. The two of you are no strangers to things getting a little rough, but there was so much more raw and animalistic about the way she touched you, the way she kissed you. Billie was gunning to win the war and she was going to disarm you in the best way she knew how. You don't understand how pissed she was seeing your flirt with an old fling like that, and what annoyed her the most is that you looked to actually be having a good time. She saw how you looked at this woman who has no name to her. You looked at her as if she meant something. Billie thought the photo she uploaded was to be expected from her and her friends. She thought you knew that sometimes one of them gets a little handsy but there was never any ill-intention behind it. Hell, you've seen it happen in front of your very eyes before and you didn't react. To her the difference between the post and what you did was that you intended to make the situation worse. You looked so into this woman, looking at her the same way you've looked at Billie before. Those eyes are only for her.

Billie wasn't nice or sweet tonight. She didn't tease you or suck on your tits for almost an hour like she usually loves to do. You were pushed onto the bed, face down ass up. You weren't able to see anything with your face in the covers. You had to guess what was happening based on the sounds around you. Billie was stealthy and quick, not giving you a second to adjust to what was going on. You felt something cool and wet hitting between your cheeks. You cursed yourself for not wearing underwear tonight, giving Billie easy access to both of your holes to do whatever she wanted with you. You felt something poke at your entrance and soon you were filled with 8 inches of thickness. The air was plucked right out of you as Billie pushed her strap all the way inside. She watched in awe how your arousal bursted through the seams. She pulled out and your juices had already completely covered her strap.

Billie pushes back into you after a few seconds. She started at a slow pace before gradually picking up speed, fucking you harder and faster. The residual anger from your little stunt tonight was fuleing her. When a girl acts up, sometimes she needs to be put in her place.

"You wanna tell me who that was tonight? Who was that girl, Y/n!"

You feel her grab a handful of your hair and she pulls your face out the bed. Her grip was tight enough to feel a prickly sensation on the edge of your scalp. You pulled your head back further to alleviate the pain. The question she asked you had completely slipped your mind as she filled your poor pussy with every inch of her strap. Billie didn't take so kindly to being ignored, so she asked you again. You could barely speak, but you tried your best.

"W-What girl?" You stutter through each thrust.

"Still playing dumb, huh?"

There was a tinge of playfulness in Billie's voice that could've you if you weren't getting fucked so hard. You were still trying to play the game she was built to beat you at. However, that girl doesn't matter to you and certainly she's irrelevant now. Your skin was flushed and sweaty. The sound of Billie's thighs meeting your ass reverberates in the room. How could you be thinking about some other woman when you're getting fucked within an inch of your life.

"If you wanted to be fucked like this baby all you had to do was laugh. You don't have to fight for my attention when you have it 24/7 sweetheart," Billie teased you with such a clear voice that amazed you she was able to concentrate on making you feel so small and fucking you skillfully. "You knew exactly what you were doing tonight, but you won't want to try that again after I'm done fucking this little pussy of yours."

Her words began to sound fuzzy as the tip of her strap kept agitating your sweet spot. You could barely keep yourself up, your arms giving away. The only thing keeping you up right now was Billie's tight grip on your hair. You were about to cum; dangerously close. All the tell-tale signs of your orgasm began firing off and that just happen to be the moment when Billie decided to pull out of you. You could whine and cry all you want, but Billie still pushed you off her strap. Your orgasm, the one you so desperately wanted, shuttered away as you sobbed into the sheets. You were surely a sight to take in. The strap rests against your ass, smearing your juices into your skin.

"Did you really think I was going to let you cum so fast? You really think you deserve that princess?"

Leave it to Billie to not give in so easily -- you should've seen this coming. You push yourself up on your palms until you're pushed back down onto the bed. Billie didn't have to use much force either which made her laugh at you. You were so weak and you hadn't even cum yet. 

"Pick a number, baby."

You thought you were hearing her wrong. Did she just ask you to pick a fucking number?

"Pick a number. 1-3."

It was stupid to indulge in whatever game she was playing, but you lifted your head and opened your mouth to utter, "2." You don't know why you even answered.

"Hmm," Billie hums. It's hard to read such a small reaction.

The sound of the drawer opening happens again. You don't have to see to know she's grabbing from the bottom "special" drawer, where she got the strap-on from. There were a few other toys in there and you suspect that's where the game comes in at.

"It's too bad you didn't pick 1, but I guess you spared your little ass tonight."

You were just spread out so perfectly for the buttplug she hasn't used on you yet. Billie would've been able to see her reflection in the shiny metal as it slipped into your tightest hole. Stretching your ass out while fucking you would've ruined you, you haven't tried that out yet. She imagines that you would've been begging her for forgiveness and permission to cum. Even seeing it in her active imagination makes her heart skip a beat. But, fate has decided for her and she's going to make the most of it.

The wand you unintentionally picked had only been used about two or three times. It's vibrations were so strong, something you felt like you had to get use to. Only on it's lowest setting were you able to handle it. Something powered only by batteries yet it was so powerful you were seeing stars the first time you used it.

"Get up."

Billie gave you the command but then she was moving your body herself. She laid on the bed and signaled for you to get on top of her. You go to straddle her before she stops you.

"Uh-uh. Turn the other way."

She made you turn away from and in the direction of a mirror. For the first time since going out tonight, you got a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looked a mess and your makeup had smudged a lot. Spit was drying in the corner of your mouth. You should've been ashamed about how you look and how Billie was slutting you out, but it made your pussy drip on Billie's skin. One, two, three she felt the drops of your arousal on her bare skin. She groaned, showing a moment of weakness for a second. Right then she knew she had to get you on her strap. She lowered you down with one hand. Somehow her strap felt so much bigger when you were sinking down on it this way. The way the girth stretched out just felt different when you were any other position. Billie doesn't fuck you in reverse cowgirl often so you were willing to underestimate her ability to fuck you as hard as you need like this, but quickly you were proven wrong.

Your skin slapped together harder and your tits bounce with every thrust up into your swollen twat. You thought it was a lot to handle until you felt the vibrations from the wand against your pussy. The slew of moans that fell from your lips were louder than before.

"Good girl! Keep moaning for me baby, show me just how much you love being fucked like this. Only I can fuck you like this."

Words like this were meant to only affect you, to drive home the point that you were a slut for Billie and Billie only, but somehow she fueled her own desire. She was fucking up into you with reckless abandon. You were so close to losing your mind from being fucked like that from below while the vibrator was placed firmly against your swollen clit. You had no choice but to endure it as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

"Whose pussy's this? Who does this pussy belong to, girl," the way she addressed you and the stinging grip on your hip made you spiral. Billie has flirted with degrading you more and more in bed, but tonight she spoke as if this came natural to her. She questioned as if something would happen if you didn't answer her. The worst thing she, or anyone else, could do to you at this moment is deny you of another sweet release. It's a miracle you're not squirting all over her strap that bullying its way into you. The head of her strap hits your cervix so deliciously. She questions you as if you're capable of speaking right now when the vibrator is sending you into orbit. You've officially been rendered stupid and unable to form words.

It takes a solid minute and everything inside of you to be able to muster up the energy to be able to answer you.

"Yours! Oh god it's yours!" You force out with a desperate cry. Your body is beginning to hunch over in weakness as she continues to pound you. You've never felt so pathetic in your life, unable to stand your ground, but never did failure feel so good. The stretch and the buzz was addicting and you were ready to let go of everything that's been pent up inside of your body.

The way you answer satisfies Billie, finally. The sobs of your pure devotion made relief wash over her. She's happy.

She doesn't stop her pounding until you're cumming and crying out loudly for her. Your toes curl as you come the hardest you have in a long, long time. Billie's grip on you was still harsh, painful even, causing the pain to mix with your everlasting pleasure. This is what might be the longest orgasm of your life and it comes after another stalemate in your relationship.

It was almost impossible to be able to come back to reality. You didn't even notice the vibrator had been turned off and discarded onto the bed until Billie stopped pumping into you completely. Satisfaction stirred deep in your hips as you sat there with her strap situated inside of you. Billie was holding you up with both hands now as if you would fall apart into a million pieces if she let go. And let go she never did.

Your heavy limbs find relief when you're laid against the bed. It feels like you're floating on a cloud compared to how it felt before. You were in a state of disbelief, asking yourself, 'did that shit really happen?' 

You weren't going to regain your composure after that, and you weren't going to even try. Billie is already up and moving around, disappearing for a few minutes before she comes back with a wet towel waiting to clean you up. She pushes your legs apart and gently rubs the warm towel against your sensitive skin.

"I think you left a present over there."

She nods her head in the direction of the wet spot on the bed. Did you squirt? You don't even have a fucking clue if you did or not but you hide your face in your hands anyway.

"Oh god," you groan.

"We can always sleep in the other room."

"I don't think I can move, Bil."

You had a million and one questions, but you were utterly worn out and Billie's face was flushed pink from all the work she put in. You two have more to answer for in the morning, and a need to explain why you both acted up so much. Seeing you so vulnerable made the words 'I'm sorry, I was wrong' want to bubble up in Billie's throat. Instead she kisses the two sweet thighs she loves so much. The nonverbal apology will always come before remorseful words out of Billie's lips. Holding you until you fall asleep will stand in just for the night.

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 NEW YEARS WITH GIRLFRIEND!BILLIE

y/nwhosthat made a post!

y/nwhosthat here's a few pics of billie (both old and new) for you little feaks... jk I LOVE YOU ALL TO PIECES, HAPPY NEW YEARRR

liked by finneas, quenblackwell, billieeilish, and others

quenblackwell is billie still stable after last night or...

y/nwhosthat no she's all over the place don't even get me STARTED

billieeilish BABE

claudasulewski new year, same typos in the captions!

y/nwhosthat and to think you're gonna be my sister-in-law...

billieeilish okay. why is that the first slide. y/n.

y/nwhosthat it's about time to get real glasses baby 🤍

billieeilish DUDE I CAN SEE

y/nwhosthat then why were you shaking me bcus you couldn't find the fireworks...

finneas never forgiving you for what happened with the grapes.

y/nwhosthat what are you even talking about whattt 😅

thesuavesolo y/n you know EXACTLY what we're talking about

sabrinacarpenter so when's the next party y/n...

matthewsturniolo i think nick died and came back to life after meeting billie 😭

christophersturniolo 🔥🔥🔥

nicolassturniolo gtfo with those fuckass emojis

christophersturniolo 👎👎👎

y/nwhosthat GET OUT OF MY COMMENFS CHRIS

LETTERS. AAAAA I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCHHHH this year has been filled with nothing but good energy and great people, and ily all soso dearly 🤍

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @dandelions4us @dandelions4us @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[the-thing-withfeathers]

for the better

a/n: this is part 2 to know your worth. i’m sorry this took a bit of time but i just wanted to get some requests done before fully getting into this buttt i hope y’all like it.

read part 1!

this one is for @dandelions4us specifically 🫵🏼🫵🏼

pairing: billie eilish x reader

warning: bold-italics are flashbacks. ex-toxic relationship, mention of therapy, toxic coping mechanisms, trauma.

summary: billie tumbles while you thrive. can you manage to find each other again through this all?

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

tick, tock. tick, tock. tick, tock.

the dreadful noise of the second hand going on a full rotation was filling billie’s ears. she was overwhelmed and she didn’t want to be here.

“you mentioned last time that you had a partner…” the woman sat on a leather chair started. she was older and was graying, she wore glasses that were too small for her face. “a partner that you had let down.”

“yeah… i really fucked up there.” billie chuckled dryly. “i was horrible during the end of that relationship. it was amazing at first but after touring, i… i became horrible.”

“why do you think you became horrible?” the woman asked.

billie didn’t want to start therapy but her brother had convinced her to do it. she hated talking things out with a total stranger. but she knew she had to take a step towards getting better one way or another.

“i… i don’t know.” billie sighed in defeat.

“do you think it had something to do with your job?” the woman asked again. this was getting ridiculous. billie felt like the woman knew all the answers but was just trying to get billie to say them, she felt like she was back in school.

“maybe?” billie asked herself. “i think when i got back from touring, i realised how serious things were getting— not just with my relationship but with everything around me. i think i just wanted to be less serious? but i didn’t go about it very well. i royally fucked up. i should have been honest— i think things would have gone so much better.”

“it seems like you have a pretty good idea about what you need to work on.” the woman pointed out, impressed. “it was a lot better than our past sessions where you were lost. it seems like you’re starting to get a better grip on yourself.” she nodded in approval.

“i dunno, i think the break i took from working has been really good to me.” billie smiled a bit, she had decided to stop making music for the time being. it wasn’t forever but it was just to give her time to recover.

“do you want to get back together?” the therapist asked, tilting her head.

“yes. more than anything.” billie nodded. “i miss the love that i used to come home to everyday.”

“you could always call.” the therapist suggested.

“i don’t think i’d get an answer.” she huffed.

“you never know if you don’t try.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

that’s how billie ended up at a cafe with her leg shaking under the table, waiting for you.

she hasn’t seen you in months. she heard about you from her friends, she tried not to ask but sometimes it would slip out. your friends reluctantly answered out of pity.

you walked into the cafe. her jaw nearly dropped at the sight of you. a smile tugged at her lips. you had cut your hair and your fashion sense had changed, you cleaned up well.

your eyes scanned the room for billie, a small smile forming when you saw her. she looked almost the same, except she dyed her hair.

you were hesitant to come today, but you had done enough self-growth that you were confident enough to face her again.

you made a beeline for her table, sitting down across from her.

billie thought she knew what to say but she was mesmerised by you. you looked good and healthy, and even more beautiful than she anticipated. she wasn’t prepared to have her breath taken away by you.

“hey.” you said, settling down and flashing a smile at her.

“hi.” she responded, clearing her throat.

“um… hey.” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows. “it’s good to see you.”

“yeah, you look good.” she said as the waiter brought her order over. you ordered something for yourself as well while she was there.

the way your eyes twinkled when talking to someone else, that was never there before. you were always more introverted but suddenly it was like you had all the confidence in the world.

she fell in love with you all over again.

you turned back to look at her after ordering, crossing your legs one over the other. you smiled at the look on her face.

“you look surprised.” you pointed out.

“i mean… a little? you’ve changed… in a good way.” she said, sipping at her coffee. “you seem… um… more—“

“out there?” you completed her thought. “well, yes. i kind of put myself to the test. i finally used my savings to travel over the past few months. i kind of had to fend for myself— that involved putting myself out there.” you explained what you had been up to. “all those work hours finally did me good.”

“that’s… that’s really nice.” she said, staring at her coffee on the table. “where did you go?”

“german, greece, rome—“

“rome? you’ve always wanted to go.”

“mmhm. and i finally did. and i finished up my trip in london. i saw some of our friends that we made when i visited you on tour.” you said, scooting over to make room for the waitress putting your order down.

“that’s good, i know they would have been glad to see you.”

you let silence fall over the table for a second as you took a bite of the biscuit at the side of your plate.

“why’d you call?” you asked, cutting to the chase. you thought that there was no point in the small talk when there was clearly something looming over billie.

“oh!” she didn’t expect you to ask so quickly.

“sorry, it just seems like there’s something you’re wanting to say.”

“yeah… i’m uh, i’m in therapy.” she said, leaning back in her seat. “and i just… we’ve been working on how i can explain myself to you. i feel like you deserve that.”

“i would be lying if i said i wasn’t curious, billie. about our relationship ending…” you said, sighing. “feels like i never got closure.”

“that’s fair! and i guess that’s what i wanted to give you.” she said. “i don’t know why i did what i did exactly, because i could have handled it so much better.”

you nodded in anticipation.

“i felt old.” billie sighed out.

you almost let out a laugh but instead let out a stifled chuckle.

“old?”

“old… yeah, it sounds so silly.”

“billie, you’re not even 25.” you scoffed a little bit in disbelief.

“i know! which is why it’s silly.” she said, a little bit defeated. “it was all too much for me when tour ended. i realised how much i had missed with everyone back home. everyone was going to parties and i was stuck working in the studio all the time. i think our relationship took the brunt of it, it was all getting so serious so i took it out on you.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “serious?”

“yeah… i used to think our relationship getting more serious and committed meant i had to settle down and grow up. i wasn’t ready for that. but i realised i was wrong. our relationship was my safe place to land, coming home to you was the best part of my day.”

“i didn’t realise you felt that way. i wish you told me.” you huffed a little, crossing your arms. “i would have helped you… whatever it took.”

“i know, and that’s why i regret it so much.”

“i kept replaying that fight in my head when it was all so fresh… i just felt like i was fighting with a stranger.” you felt your heart ache upon reliving those memories. “i had some hope that maybe you’d come to your senses that day, that maybe me saying something would be enough for you.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t. i was so stupid—“

“the worst part is that i never fell out of love with you for a second.” you confessed.

“what?” she asked, making sure she heard you right.

“i tried. i tried to hate you… believe me, i did. but i couldn’t.” you shook your head, finishing your coffee off.

“could we ever try again?” billie popped the question. she didn’t know what answer to expect from you. sure, you still loved her, but could you put yourself in that position again?

“i don’t know.” you said, truthfully. “it’s taking everything in me not to say yes, but i don’t know if i can do that to myself again. i think i’ve come too far.”

“then let me catch up to you.”

there she was. your billie.

you couldn’t hold back a laugh when you heard her say that.

“oh, billie. it’s good to have you back. it’s for the better.” you sighed through the smile that was plastered on your face. “well, how about this then?”

you took her phone that was sitting down on the table. she had reached out through a mutual friend but you didn’t have any other contact information.

“i’ll give you my number.”

thump. thump. thump

billie could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.

“i’ll give you my number.” you said. billie had just met you that night but she was captivated by you.

you had gotten a job working tech at her release party. she saw you backstage and couldn’t take her eyes off you for a second. the way you tried to make sure that everything was perfect for her.

you were a face in the background and yet you were at the forefront of her mind the entire night.

“and you can call me and tell me where to be.”

“and you can call me and tell me where to be.” you giggled, teasing her a little bit. you found it amusing that one of the biggest figures in the world was chasing after you after the show.

she was panting a little bit, she definitely ran after you. her hands were on her knees for just a second while she introduced herself, trying to catch her breath.

you were on your way to your car, your bag already on your shoulder. she couldn’t let you leave without shooting her shot.

you handed her phone back to her.

you handed her phone back to her. she took it back in her hand and immediately pressed dial, you were still in front of her.

she pressed dial.

you rolled your eyes and picked up the phone, holding it up to your ear.

“tomorrow. dinner… at my place?” she said with a cheeky smile on her face.

“tomorrow. dinner… at my place?”

“sure. i’ll be there.”

“sure. i’ll be there.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a/n: heyyy y’all i hope the switching between flashbacks & current time wasn’t too confusing. but i hope u enjoyed part 2 <33 much love mwah mwah

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 4)

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment and reblog this story, I'm really glad you're sticking with me on this journey!!

If you're enjoying it, a reblog would mean a lot to me and really helps get this fanfic out there! 🫶

Enjoy...

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1 Part 2, and Part 3

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @nocturnest @the-freak-cassie-313 @rainy-darling @nina-from-317

From then on, you become much more observant. Billy and you meet up after school to do homework, go for walks, grab some food or just hang out. You start noticing small details, like how sometimes his shirt is buttoned up a bit higher than usual, even in warm weather. Occasionally, you catch sight of a bruise on his skin. You refrain from bombarding him with questions, but it's challenging to stay silent when the wounds are obvious. Thankfully, it's never as severe as that night he showed up battered. You quickly understand that this topic is off-limits for him, so you let it go, hoping that someday, he'll feel comfortable enough to open up to you.

For the first time in what feels like ages, happiness seeps into your days. Suddenly, the world seems brighter, nights feel less daunting, and even the mundane surroundings regain a hint of color. But deep down, you know this fragile balance won't last. 

And just like that, everything shifts during a Wednesday afternoon gym class. You're deep into a basketball game. A teammate passes you the ball, and with quick reflexes, you snatch it and charge towards the basket. It all happens in a blur, catching you off guard, until a sharp pang shoots through your knees as they collide with the unforgiving, polished wood of the gym floor. Your heart races as you instinctively extend your arms, just in time to protect your face from the impact. Amid the chaos, the coach's whistle cuts through the noise, and through the fog of pain, a pair of trainers come into focus right before your eyes.

“What happened?” 

“She tripped, Coach,” says the voice belonging to the person in those shoes. Your gaze shifts upward, meeting the mocking eyes of Tina Williams. She stands with one hand on her hip, casually chewing her gum. A moment later, she steps aside as the coach kneels in front of you.

The contrast is stark—where there was once the commotion of squeaking shoes and shouts, there's now a hushed stillness. Half the class has gathered around, watching in silence.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" the coach asks you, resting his hand on your arm. 

You’re not stupid. Tina deliberately tripped you, sending you crashing to the floor. The pain in your knees isn't unbearable, but your skin is clearly scraped. The sting from where they hit the ground and slid across the floor is still sharp.

"Oh man, we need to disinfect these," the coach remarks, examining your peeling, reddened knees where raw flesh is visible. "I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

"No, no. It's fine." you say, your voice slightly shaky as he helps you to your feet. "It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," you murmur, catching the faint snickers of Vicky Muller and Carol Perkins as they whisper to Tina, their voices low but filled with amusement.

The coach makes you sit on the benches for the rest of the hour. As the game continues, you become a spectator in every sense—watching the game and the entire situation unfold, feeling completely disconnected from your own body. Your mind drifts, detaching from everything around you. You’re certain Tina tripped you on purpose, but the reason eludes you. Anxiety gnaws at you, leaving a pit in your stomach. When the game finally ends, you follow your classmates into the locker room, keeping your eyes downcast, avoiding any confrontations. All you want is to leave, to escape this uncomfortable situation.

But as you open your locker, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Reluctantly, you turn, only to find yourself face-to-face with Tina. Vicky stands beside her, arms crossed, with an expression that clearly shows she's anticipating some entertainment, barely able to contain her laughter.

Tina nods toward your knees. “How are your knees?”

You want to snap back, to demand what her problem is, but instead, you choose the path of least resistance. Maybe if you play along, this will all blow over.

“It’s nothing serious. It’ll pass,” you say, forcing a small smile before turning back to your locker.

Tina snorts, and there’s a brief, tense silence. “What’s your deal with Billy?”

Your hand freezes in mid-motion as everything suddenly clicks into place. Slowly, you turn back to her, realizing there’s no avoiding this conversation.

You decide to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“Did I stutter?”

You swallow, taking in her mocking expression. The locker room falls silent as your classmates stop what they’re doing to watch the scene unfold. In the background, Carol wears a wicked smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I barely know him,” you say, trying to diffuse the situation, not wanting any trouble.

You know that Billy had gone out with Tina a few times not too long ago. It was supposedly nothing serious and ended as quickly as it began. Rumor has it that after they’d hooked up in his Camaro, he drove her home and never called her again.

“Please. You think we’re dumb?” Vicky chimes in. “We’ve seen you hanging with him.”

“I…”

“Listen, honey,” Tina cuts you off, unfolding her arms and stepping toward you. Her tone is anything but sweet, almost aggressive. “I don’t care what the hell you’re up to. But stop it.”

“Wha…”

“You really think he’d be interested in someone like you? Take a good look at yourself,” she sneers, her gaze sweeping over you, making you instantly self-conscious. “Make sure you’re not carrying fleas before you get near guys like Billy. God knows what’s lurking in that cesspool you call home.”

“Or STDs,” Carol chimes in with a smirk. “Like mother, like daughter.”

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, the pain in your knees forgotten as a deeper ache settles in. The room is filled with your classmates, yet you’ve never felt so alone. Some stand in silent shock, others hold back amused grins, enjoying the spectacle.

“So yeah, stay away from him. Got it?” Tina snaps her bubble gum, her eyes daring you to respond.

They don’t wait for an answer, turning away and leaving you frozen in place. As you open your locker and reach for your clothes, you realize with a sinking feeling that they’re soaked. Water drips onto the floor, soaking your sneakers, and panic rises in your chest. You quickly grab your backpack, hoping it’s unharmed, but find it just as wet, the contents inside ruined.

Murmurs and giggles fill the room as Tina’s voice drifts over again, soft but cutting. “Sorry about that. Maybe next time you’ll know your place.”

You leave school wearing your damp clothes, shivering as the rain falls down on you. The thought of enduring two more hours of English literature is unbearable. Despite your efforts to dry your clothes and backpack, the dampness clings to you, making the weight of it all feel heavier. The mile-long walk home feels endless as your mind replays the scene in the gym and locker room. You wonder how you could have been so naive, so foolish to think you could find a bit of happiness without something going wrong. The cold air stings your wet cheeks, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, your eyes fixed on the ground. Your knees burn, but nothing compares to the deep, burning shame inside you.

When you finally reach home, you’re grateful your father is still at work, sparing you from having to explain why you’re home early or why you look so miserable. You retreat to the shower, letting the hot water pour over you until the steam is so thick you can’t even see the tiles. Later, you curl up on the couch under a blanket, staring blankly at the TV, your mind far away. The phone rings, breaking the silence, but you don’t have the energy to answer it. Whoever is calling is persistent, though, and the ringing continues.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pick up the receiver, trying to keep your voice from sounding hollow.

“Hello?”

“It’s Billy.”

His warm voice is like a balm, soothing your frayed nerves, but it also brings back the harsh memories of the day. The ugly events replay in your mind, and guilt washes over you as you imagine him waiting by his Camaro, only to realize you wouldn’t be showing up.

“I’m sorry. Sorry about that,” you croak, clearing your throat. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“What happened?”

“I’m just under the weather. That’s all. I think I’m getting sick.”

A heavy silence hangs between you as you twist the phone cord around your fingers, the tension in your grip turning your skin white. You can only hear your own breathing, and you hope desperately that he believes you, that he won’t push for more.

“You sure?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, I promise. I just need to rest.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Hey, Billy?” you blurt out, stopping yourself before your voice cracks. The knot in your throat tightens as you struggle with the urge to be honest with him. It doesn’t seem fair to lie, knowing this might be one of the last times you hear his voice. “Thanks for calling,” you manage to say once you’re sure your voice won’t break.

“Don’t mention it. Bye, sweetheart.”

You hang up before you can respond, the warmth of his endearment slicing through you, leaving you on the verge of tears. It’s not just him—it’s everything. The whole situation weighs on you. You glance at the picture of you and your mom on the hall shelf, taken when you were just two years old in her arms. Your dad still keeps it, a reminder of the past. Billy has managed to make your life easier, not by making you forget, but by showing you that happiness was still possible. But today, all those old wounds are reopened. The void left by her, and now by him, feels deeper than ever. That’s the risk of letting people into your life—they eventually leave, and all you’re left with is the emptiness they once filled.

You stay home for the next two days. On Friday, it still hasn’t stopped raining. The day drags on endless, each hour feeling like an eternity. You struggle to find the strength to peel yourself out of bed, your stomach tied in knots, rendering breakfast an impossible feat. As rain continues to patter against the window, casting a dreary backdrop, you find yourself lost in a numb trance, gazing blankly at the vivid greenery outside. Only in the afternoon does your hunger finally overpower the turmoil within, prompting you to rustle up a simple cheese toast to appease your growling stomach. Settling in front of the TV, you attempt to distract yourself from the weight of the day's events. By the late afternoon, as your dad arrives home, you force yourself to summon a facade of composure, determined not to burden him with worries. Then the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your trance, and you get up to see who's there. 

As you open the door, Billy is standing here, his hands on his leather jacket pockets, his gaze wandering off to the side, but turns to look immediately at you. He’s as pretty as the last time you saw him. His eyes lock with yours, making you weak in the knee. 

“Oh. Hey.” you softly say, completely taken off guard by his presence on your front door. 

“Hey.” 

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask, trying your best to not sound rude. You’re just confused. 

Billy shrugs. “You didn’t answer when I called. Figured I would come to you instead.” 

His response leaves you speechless. You’re struck by his persistence, amazed that he hasn’t grown tired of you, given his tendency to quickly lose interest in people. He says it so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it stirs something inside you that you can’t quite put into words.

Amusement flicks over his face. “You gonna let me in, or what?” 

You excuse yourself by straightening up from your position against the door, opening it wide to let him in. Billy wipes his shoes on the doormat before stepping in. A strange energy seems to be unleashed when your bodies are close to each other. It makes you feel electric. You’ve never believed in those things, but it’s almost like your auras are touching.

You look up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you look at each other.

“Sorry, my dad’s here,” you say as you see him look up behind you toward the living room.

Although very subtle, you notice how his body tenses up when your father approaches him and you introduce Billy to him. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Your dad shakes his hand, a warm smile on his face. “Ah, so you must be Billy. She keeps talking about you.”

Billy lets out a nervous chuckle, briefly glancing at you. You find yourself looking at the ground, cheeks flushed. "Hope she said good things."

“All I can say is that you’re good to her, son. Haven’t seen my daughter smiling this often in a long time. She never talks to me about her friends.” he rests his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” you can feel Billy’s eyes on you, boring a hole through your skin. “She’s good to me too.”

Your dad gestures toward the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet? We made some roasted chicken tonight, it’s delicious.”

Billy shakes his head. “Thank you, sir, I had dinner earlier.” 

“Come have a drink then.” your dad already walks backward to the kitchen. “What can I get you?”

“Dad…” you softly say at his enthusiasm. You never have people over. It’s been a long time since you had them. Not since…well. And you understand your dad lights up as a candle with joy. He’s getting too enthusiastic already.

“You look over eighteen. Beer? Some red wine?” 

Billy glances at you, his hand in his pockets, then slowly follows him to the kitchen. He looks like a wary animal taking in his surroundings.  “Beer is fine. Thank you, sir.”

You follow behind Billy, feeling suddenly so uneasy in your own house. Your eyes follow his broad back as he enters the kitchen, the air already smelling like leather. Like him. 

Your dad, with a casual wave of his hand, says, "Ah, don't bother with all those formalities around me.” 

Billy leans against the counter as your dad extends an uncapped bottle of beer, clinking it against his own. You notice how he stiffens slightly again when your dad mentions remembering his last name, knowing his father. His attitude becomes more reserved, and he answers with small sentences. Especially when your dad mentions how despite having talked to him only a few times at Melvald’s downtown and the bank, he looks like a tough guy. However, your dad is easygoing and his attitude warm, and slowly, throughout the conversation, Billy seems to ease up too. His shoulders relax, and a real laugh escapes him a time or two. You knew they shared some interests, but you didn’t expect them to talk about California for so long. Your dad recounts his younger years living in there, how he spent his days surfing and working in a garage for his own dad’s friend to get some money. Billy did the same back there. He tells your dad how you mentioned some of it to him, then how many more people there are since the 60s, how Will Rogers State Beach is now crowded with tourists. 

“You’re sure you don’t want anything to eat? Hell, there’s plenty of that chicken and it’s only the two of us.” you dad offers again. 

Billy settles the empty beer on the counter. “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you. I was hoping to take her on a ride, to get some fresh air if that’s alright with you.”

Your dad looks at you and you give him a small smile, though you didn’t expect or plan any of it. He nods in approval.

“Sure, kids. Be careful, yeah? It was nice to meet you Billy.”

“Same. Thank you for the beer.”

Your dad winks at him. “Anytime. You’re always welcome.”

At first, silence hangs between the two of you. Billy doesn’t mention it as he drives you toward downtown, and your mind is elsewhere. You’re there physically, but your thoughts are consumed by how wrong it feels to be in the car with him. Your plans to keep your distance have been shattered by his unexpected presence. His decision to come to you makes everything ten times harder. You’re unsure how you’ll find the right words to express yourself without offending him—or worse, hurting him. But then again, maybe you’re overthinking it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel as connected to you as you do to him. Chances are, you’ll be the one left hurting in the end.

Billy casually suggests getting a milkshake at the diner, then lapses back into silence, leaving you unsure whether to thank him or ask him to break the quiet. He doesn’t make it easy. When he parks in front of the diner, he opens the passenger door for you. Physical contact has become second nature between you two—small, almost unconscious gestures, especially on his part. But they always send your heart racing. This time, as he touches your back, gently guiding you inside while holding the diner door open, your heartbeat spikes dangerously.

You usually have a sweet tooth, and the milkshakes at Starlight Grill are delicious, but today, your thoughts have robbed you of your appetite. Billy insists you get something, and when you hesitate, he suggests sharing a milkshake.

When the waitress brings the milkshake along with the bill, Billy takes the first sip. You reach into your pocket for some coins.

“What are you doing?” 

“Just, paying.” You murmur absent-mindedly, counting the coins. Billy's hand appears in front of you, putting them aside.

“Put that away.”

You sigh, meeting his gaze. "Billy."

He casually slides the milkshake in front of you, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, completely unfazed by your feeble attempts to resist. The purple lights of the diner cast a soft glow, highlighting his features and making his mustache stand out more than usual. You can't help but marvel at how effortlessly handsome he always looks. Meanwhile, you feel out of place in your loose jumper, with no makeup and your hair barely combed.

You notice that there is only one straw in the milkshake. “Oh, they didn’t bring another one.”

“It’s fine. Drink it,” his features shifting to an amused look.  “Unless it grosses you out.” 

“No, no! Of course not.” you hastily assure him before bringing the straw to your lips. The rich taste of chocolate floods your senses with a pleasant sensation, despite your lack of hunger. You resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of the whipped cream from the top of the milkshake.

“Feel better today?” he asks as he watches you, leaning back against the bench.

“Uh, yes. A bit better.” you lie, your eyes on the table. You’re unable to look at him.

You instinctively tighten your grip on the cold glass of the milkshake, startled by the sudden warmth of his palm on your forehead. 

“Yeah. No fever, anyway,” he says.

“How did you do on the test yesterday?” you ask instead, eager to change the topic.

Billy leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he brings the milkshake closer to himself, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Eh, not bad. I think I passed," he replies before taking a sip from the straw. “Jesus, this shit is sweet as hell.” he mutters, peering down at the milkshake as if it personally wronged him.

You let out a soft laugh at his expression. When you sat down, he asked you what flavor you liked and ordered it without hesitation. You realize with a pang of guilt that you hadn't even bothered to ask him if he liked it. 

“Sorry… too much?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Just a bit sweet.” he pushes the milkshake toward you, your fingers brushing each other as you take the glass. “I’m more of a savory type of guy.”

"Oh," you sheepishly respond, brushing your thumb against the cold glass to clear away some moisture. “I’m more of a sweet type of girl.”

"You are," he says, his voice carrying a subtle warmth that catches your attention. 

You lift your gaze toward him, struck by the underlying tone in his words. Billy dips his pinky in the whipped cream and brings it to his mouth. Red lips suck around the skin, his tongue licking the whipped cream away. You take a sip of the milkshake to distract yourself from the stirring movement in your lower belly. 

“So what’s your favorite?” he then casually asks, as if he didn’t just do the most provocative thing ever. 

“My what?” you ask as if coming back to reality. 

“Your favorite dessert.”

“Oh uhm, I guess my mom’s tiramisu,” you stop to think about all the summers spent eating your mom’s tiramisu in the back of your house in the garden, the happy memory becoming bittersweet. “I didn’t like it when I was younger, I used to make all of those faces when I tasted the coffee.” Billy snorts a soft laugh as he looks at you. “She used to make it all the time when it was warm outside.” you say as you play with the straw.”

“You know how to make it?”

“Yes. She taught me.” 

“You’ll have to make me one, someday.” 

You meet his eyes, still intently on you, and you lower your gaze while stretching your lips into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. How you wish there was a chance to do this. 

“What’s yours?” you ask instead, ignoring how your heart is aching.

Billy hums thoughtfully, dragging the milkshake toward him. “I’d say the tacos from the Mexican joint in Mission Beach. Hands down.”

“What do they put in them?” 

Billy sucks on the straw before setting the glass aside. “Okay, so picture this,” he leans his elbows on the table. “They have this way of cooking the beef, it’s tender and juicy ‘cause they dip it in the stew, and it’s seasoned just right." 

A smile slowly spreads on your face without you realizing it as he gets enthusiastic about it.

“Then they sprinkle some lime on it.” he mimics the sprinkling, his eyes squinting a tiny bit. "And then there's the crunch of the shell, just crispy enough to contrast with the beef. Then they top it with cheese and jalapeños. Man,” you giggle as he lightly slaps his palm on the table. He turns his head to the side, momentarily lost in thought as he contemplates. “It’s something else.” 

“It sounds delicious.” you nod, a laugh escaping your lips.

As Billy looks back at you, his face is closer to yours as you leaned on the table too. His blue eyes bore into yours. “It’s five-star type of food, babe. Unmatched.” 

His voice is warm like dripping honey and your stomach flips, his half-lidded gaze trapping you there is both charming and dangerous. You’re scared of the things your body is feeling.

“I wish I could try it.” 

“You will. Told you I would take you there.”

He scans your face, catching each of your reactions from up close as your breath hitches in your throat. “I thought you were joking.” 

“I never was.”

You wonder what would happen if you just listened to your instincts right now. If only he lifted the sleeves of your sweater, he’d see the goosebumps on your arms. If he could press his ear to your chest, he’d hear your heart racing. But following your instincts feels too risky. A little voice inside reminds you that all this chemistry between you two might just be in your head. You're building castles in the air; your deluded heart is playing tricks on you. Tina’s voice chimes in too: “What would a guy like him want with someone like you?” So, you pull away, and as you do, your heartbeat slows down a little.

You clear your voice, grabbing the milkshake. “Anyway, I better get home soon. It’s almost ten.” 

With only a little milkshake left, you finish it without meeting his gaze, deciding to switch the topic to how you caught up with homework while staying at home. He doesn’t comment on it, biting into it and telling you about the history test on that Wednesday.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asks you once on the drive home.

He lowers the volume of the radio, Eagles’ ‘Take it Easy’ reduced to background noise. You hesitate. You don’t know how to tell him. You’ve never been good at cutting ties with people. You’ve never been ready. You never will be.

“I’m just not in a good place right now.”

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Billy responds, his voice low and steady. "But what's got you feeling this way?"

You figure that the best way is to be straightforward, though. 

“I know this might sound weird," you begin, already feeling a pang of regret for how you're about to phrase it. Your nails press into the palm of your hands as you twist them together, your eyes locked on the shifting scenery outside. “You’ll probably don’t understand it. But I think we have to stop seeing each other. Hanging around together.”  

At first, your words hang heavy in the air, met only with silence that feels like a weight on your chest. You can't help but replay what you just said in your mind, wondering if you came off too harshly. It's a familiar feeling, the aftermath of saying something you can't take back, and in this moment, it feels far too aggressive.

As you battle with yourself, searching desperately for the right words to soften the blow, you find that every script you rehearsed in your head falls short. Billy's silence only adds to your internal turmoil, leaving you mentally slapping yourself for the brutal way you phrased it.

Billy licks his lips. “If I did something wrong,” he starts.

“No, it’s not that.”

“...Or if I made you feel uncomfortable, you gotta tell me.”

“No. Billy, please don’t think that. You haven’t done anything wrong.” you interject quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in reassurance.

He glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road, his expression unreadable. The tension in the car is palpable as he waits for you to explain further.

“I just…” you begin, running a hand through your hair in a nervous gesture. “I don’t think it’s good for you to be around me."

"Huh," he responds, his tone indicating he finds your reasoning perplexing. "What does that mean?"

You begin cautiously, choosing your words carefully, "I'm just not... I'm not exactly the embodiment of happiness, you know? And I don't want to bring you down with me."

"You think you're gonna bring me down?" 

You nod slowly, unable to meet his gaze. "I just don't want to drag you into my mess," you admit quietly. “I have a lot to deal with myself. Please believe me when I say that it’s not a good idea.”

"That's it? That's why you think we should stop hanging out?" Billy's voice carries a blend of disbelief and skepticism as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your explanation.

His response catches you off guard. Shouldn't your reason suffice? After all, it's what led to the end of friendships with Nancy and Claire. They understood and let you go. And deep down, you understand that too.

“No, it’s not just that…” you feel increasingly frustrated with the situation, it feels harder than you anticipated.

"Hey, if I'm not your cup of tea, or if I'm making you feel awkward, just say the word. No hard feelings. We can't all be everyone's favorite flavor. But let's keep it real, yeah?"

"No, it's not that at all, Billy!" you blurt out, your voice rising slightly with surprise. "I like you. I really do," you continue, your voice softening as shyness creeps in at the urgency of your confession. As you speak, Billy pulls the car to a stop in front of your place. "More than anyone else in this whole town."

Billy doesn’t talk for what seems like an eternity. You don’t dare to look at him. After almost a minute, he finally breaks the silence. “Okay, what is it, then?”

“It’s just…wrong.”

“Wrong?” he says. “Look, it’s not like I have a girlfriend and I’m ditching her to hang out with you or something.”

“Well, Tina doesn’t seem to be on the same page,” you mumble to yourself out of instinct. 

Billy frowns. “What?”

That’s when you realize you talked out loud. You sigh, looking out of the window. You really hoped to avoid this conversation. It just feels wrong to use a lame excuse. You don’t wanna do that. It’s not working, anyway. You figure the best way to put it without having to unravel the whole thing. 

“I don’t know what you guys are to each other-…”

“I fucked her once. That’s it.” 

You wince at his words, carrying on. “...but she made pretty clear that I should stay away from you.”

At first you’re met with silence, but then Billy's reaction is a mix of disbelief and irritation. He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “She's nuts," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration. "Can't believe her. Jesus."

As you fidget with your hands in your lap, a sense of resignation washes over you. That doesn’t change things. You made up your mind already. They succeeded pretty well in making you see things for what they are. In a very sadistic way, that’s for sure. It is the reality nonetheless.

“Listen, don’t pay attention to her.”  

You let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s kinda hard, she’s really committed to making my life a living hell.”

Billy's expression shifts, his gaze now fixed on you with newfound seriousness. “What do you mean?” 

“Nothing, just…” you sigh. “It’s just what I said. Bottom line is, I’m not good for you, Billy. I’m messed up and I can’t give anything good. You should be spending time with people who are stable, who have something to offer.”

Billy turns his attention back to the trailer ahead. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he pieces together the puzzle. Before you can prepare yourself, he's already connecting the dots.

He scratches his chin, then looks back at you. “Does it have to do with you ditching school for the past days?” his tone calm but unwavering.

Your answer is instinctive and almost too immediate. "No, that's..." you start, but Billy cuts you off with a knowing look.

“Don't lie to me.”

You know if there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s when people lie to him. He told you that before. There is no way out of this. If anything surprises you about Billy, it’s his emotional intelligence. His ability to understand what you feel just like that. How he easily and often picks up what’s on your mind. You explain everything that happened to him, noticing how his face hardens progressively as you recount the events that have weighed heavily on you. From that moment Tina deliberately tripped you up in gym class, sending you sprawling to the ground in front of everyone, to the tense confrontation in the locker room. You feel drained after talking, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. 

“Fuck those bitches.” he growls, his voice thick with anger. 

“They’re right though. We really are different.”

“Different in what? I’m a guy, you’re a girl. But then?” 

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, your eyes fixed on the window.

“Well, tell you what, I like spending time with you. That’s all I know,” you turn in surprise at how bluntly he said those words. “Did we ever argue or anything?”

You think back on all the times you've spent together. Whenever you were with him, it felt like everything else faded away, and it was just the two of you against the world. There was never any arguing or discord between you; instead, he had a knack for making you forget about any troubles or worries you had. Being with him was like finding a safe haven, a place where you could just be yourself and feel at peace.

“No,” you admit, feeling a knot form in your throat.

“Do you feel any different when it’s just you and me?”

“No.”

“Are you ever bored when we hang out?”

“No, never.” you breathe out, shaking your head.

“Me neither. So it’s sorted.”

“Billy, I’m…I’m complicated. My life is complicated.” 

He shrugs, shifting in his seat. “I like complicated.” 

Billy's stubbornness despite the doors you're trying to close between you is overwhelming both in the best and worst way.

“I just don't think you really know what you're doing," you protest weakly, unable to shake the nagging doubts that linger in the back of your mind.

“Pretty sure I do.”

“Billy,” heat rises in your cheeks as shame gnaws at your insides, your heart weighing heavy. It's hard for you to acknowledge it, let alone put it into words. “Look at me,” you point at yourself, your throat burning.

Billy's eyes scan your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his features. “I am.”

You shake your head, your throat feels ready to burst from how much it hurts. “No. Look at you, then look at me. Look at this,” you gesture toward the darkened trailer.

“You serious?”

“I am. Trust me, you don’t want to…”

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart. Come on, now. Look at me.”

You realize Billy has leaned over the console as he gently grasps your chin. “I don’t care. All I know is that I like you, alright? I don’t give a shit about the rest.”

His words cut through you, threatening to shatter the fragile barrier holding your emotions at bay. His thumb delicately traces the curve of your chin as his piercing blue eyes search yours. Frozen in place, you dare not move or speak, afraid that the slightest exhale might betray the storm of emotions raging within you.

“You hear me?” he drops his head slightly, as he softly shakes your chin to get your attention, his eyes finding yours. “I don’t care.”

You content to nod, a tear breaking free and running down your cheek. Billy licks his lips, his face inching closer to yours. “C’mere.”

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels as ancient as time itself, as though you've shared this in a thousand other lives. It's tender, lingering, filled with an unspoken longing that resonates deep within you. As you lose yourself in the kiss, his breath dances with yours, and you taste tobacco, mint and something distinctly him on his tongue, sending a wave of euphoria through you. Your hand instinctively rises, fingers curling gently around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, yearning for more. Your heart is beating so fast you swear it’s going to explode. As you break the kiss first in search of oxygen, you’re vaguely aware of his mouth seeking yours, his face tilting forward, his half-open eyes unfocused. His fingers travel on the back of your neck, curling around it and pressing your lips more firmly against his. It’s so good that it doesn’t feel real, your body is the only thing you're aware of. It's ablaze, your heart thundering in your chest, your breath resonating in the car. But he’s here too, he’s real. Real as one can be when you feel his hot skin against your fingers where you’re holding his shirt, as his mustache tickles your mouth, then your cheek, your neck.

He’s certainly real when his voice comes as a muffled and open-mouthed whisper against your skin, buried between your neck and your hair between kisses.

“God, baby.”

It’s a soft plead, a gentle need that swells your heart. Your fingers are tangled through his curls at the nape of his neck. They’re as soft as you imagined them. You could’ve never imagined one day your fingers would run through them. His mouth finds yours again, your senses filled with the scent of him and you can’t help yourself and rest your hand on his cheek, wanting to feel him more. Time is not something tangible anymore. You don’t know how long elapses. It may be minutes, it may be hours. You just can’t seem to get enough of each other to finally break apart. Nothing has ever made you feel so good in a long time. That’s why you don’t question your tongue tangling with his, his hand searching for skin as it ventures beneath your jacket and settles on your waist, warm and big. 

The loud thud of thunder outside makes you jump slightly on the seat, and with the realization that you must get inside, you slowly but finally break apart from him. 

“I have to go.” you manage to say as his lips kiss your cheek and the corner of your eye instead. 

His breath fans against your skin, a gentle caress that makes you shiver. Billy's eyes, still glazed with desire, slowly refocus as he registers your words. There's a flicker of disappointment, but he nods in understanding. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you better get inside,” he replies in a husky voice, his eyes roaming over your face. 

His lips are red and swollen with your kisses, you can’t help but steal another kiss which her eagerly accepts, planting a couple more against your mouth. They’re not as deep but full of meaning, resonating in the air. 

“Call me tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, I will,” you mumble, your cheek feeling red as you internally wish you could stay with the him forever.  

As you leave the car, the cold rain immediately envelopes you, sending shivers down your spine. The rain soaks through your clothes as you navigate through the darkness. As you reach the door, you steal one last look at Billy's car, watching as he drives away into the night, the memory of his touch still lingering on your lips.

[sadhours]

billy's reaction to you slapping/grabbing his ass? I feel like he's somewhat oblivious to his massive dumptruck

heheh he does have a cute butt

billy hargrove x f!reader

short, illusions to smut but overall wholesome

“What’re you doing?” he asks behind a smile, fond but confused.

“Just getting a feel,” you reply easily, unassuming. You’ve stopped him in the kitchen, hugging him and then planting both hands on his plump ass— squeezing.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you tight and he laughs against your ear. “Kind of a dude thing to do.”

“Girls can like butts too, Billy,” you assure him, jiggling his ass in your hands.

“Mhm,” he pats the top of your head, “But it’s not very ladylike to grope people.”

You spank him at that, “Well I don’t care about being ladylike. I like your butt. I wanna touch it.”

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Hurry up, get your fill. I was doing something, ya know.”

You heave a sigh, but give him a couple more squeezes before retreating. “Fine, go do whatever is more important than being fondled by your girlfriend.”

“I’ll stop what I’m doing if you’ll grope me somewhere else,” he tells you, wiggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder before shooing him away. “You ruined it, go away.”

Billy smacks a kiss to your cheek and then walks out of the kitchen, “You’re the one being a pervert!”

[chvoswxtch]

part one: the call

[series masterlist] | [part two]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: a ghost from the past has returned.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of murder, creepy sleazy boss & brief mentions of sexual harassment, billy being the cocky lil shit he is

word count: 3.8k

a/n: ahhhhhhh! i've been working on this for the past few months & i'm so excited to finally put it out. I really really really hope y'all enjoy it. this is only 6 parts, so it will not be a slow burn. it's gonna get intense fast. also, there is an oc name mentioned, but it's just for the backstory of the plot. this is still a self insert, & y/n will be used for the rest of the story! without further ado, let's get this spooky slutty season started. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

This was a bad dream. It had to be. There was no other logical way to explain why you were currently sitting in an interrogation room at a precinct, being questioned by police about a man that you had gone on a blind date with not even twelve hours ago, who had been found stabbed to death in an alley two blocks away from your apartment building.

It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real. All you had to do was open your eyes, and this would all go away. You knew how to deal with nightmares. You knew how to escape them. You’d been running and hiding from them your whole life. All you had to do was open your eyes, and the sinister shadows wouldn't be able to sink their claws into your subconscious to trap you in the dark. Just open them, and this will all disappear. 

Just open your eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

The detective’s voice swiftly brought you out of the trance of denial your mind had wandered into, and your eyes snapped open. To your dismay, nothing changed. The two detectives were still sitting across the table from you, the metal cold against your sweaty palms, one eying you warily while the other regarded you with a more sympathetic stare. The chair beneath you was still stiff and uncomfortable, the light above was still a harsh shade of artificial brightness, and the large piece of glass to your right that reflected your terrified expression still made you feel unsettled knowing there was someone watching you just on the other side of that two-way pane.

“I…I’m sorry. What was the question?”

The waver in your voice gave away how shaken you were by the whole ordeal. When the police had shown up at your office an hour ago stating they needed to bring you in for questioning regarding the murder of Adam Mercer, shock had instantly shot through your entire nervous system, chilling the very blood in your veins with an icy sense of dread. 

This was the kind of thing you heard about happening in the news. A tragedy that struck someone else’s life. A nameless, faceless person whose existence you were unaware of. It was the kind of thing nobody ever thought could happen to them, until it did.

The older detective, the more commiserating one, had said they thought it was some kind of mugging gone wrong. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in New York City, unfortunately. The dazzling city was also dangerous. But since you were the last person to see Adam alive, they needed as much information as you could give them about the last few hours of his life. For some odd reason, it filled you with a sense of guilt that his final moments had been spent with you, a complete stranger, instead of someone else. 

Adam had been a really nice guy. He’d seemed to enjoy the date. He’d thrown his head back and laughed like a little kid at a stupid joke you’d told. He’d flashed you a charming smile when you’d nearly knocked your glass of wine over into your pasta. He’d animatedly told you about his family’s tradition of selecting a perfect tree together at a local Christmas farm back in his home state of Jersey every holiday season. He’d been sweet and gentle and respectful. But had he been happy? 

Had he succumbed to the inevitable fate of death at his attacker’s hands without a fight? Did he even see it coming? Had he had that moment, where everything flashed before his eyes, all his mistakes, all his regrets, all the would’ve, could’ve, should'ves? 

You knew what that feeling was like. You’d been there, once before. Nothing makes you want to live more than Death deciding to show up at your door and pick the lock with its cold, bony fingers to collect a bounty early. 

Thirteen times. Adam had been brutally stabbed thirteen times. It was excessive for a mugging. It felt more personal, that kind of anger and passion. As morbid as the thought was, you hoped the first one had killed him. You hoped he that went into shock swiftly and bled out just as fast so he hadn’t suffered through the next twelve.

Holding his pen in his right hand, the tip hovering over his worn yellow pocket sized notepad, Detective Craven repeated his question.

“How well did you know Adam?”

“I…I didn’t. I’d never met him until last night. My roommate um…she knew him. She’s the one who set us up.”

“Your roommate being Miss Riley?”

Detective Williamson had his hands clasped together in front of him on the table. He lifted one of his brows while waiting for you to answer his question. Swallowing thickly, you gave a faint nod of your head and dropped your hands to your lap, fidgeting with them under the table anxiously. 

“Yeah, Annie.”

Detective Craven cleared his throat, reading over his notes with his honey brown eyes as he continued his questioning.

“Now, you said he picked you up at your apartment around eight-thirty, the two of you had dinner at Maureen’s, and then he dropped you back off at your place around eleven. He left right after that?”

“Yeah, he…um…we said goodnight, he said he’d like to see me again, and then he told me he’d call me tomorrow.”

“He didn’t come up to your apartment at all?”

Detective Williamson didn’t bother hiding the skepticism in his voice, or the implication behind his words, his icy blue eyes locked on you in an almost unsettling way.

“No, he dropped me off at the front steps of the building.”

“And you didn’t see where he went when he left? Didn’t give him one last look after a goodnight kiss?”

A flash of annoyance broke through your stunned disbelief at the invasive second question. You hadn’t said anything about a kiss. The younger detective seemed to be fishing for a crack in your alibi for some reason, trying to catch you in a lie that didn’t exist. A flicker of defensiveness crept into your voice when you spoke.

“No, after we said goodnight, I went inside.”

Before Detective Williamson could ask another thinly veiled judgmental question, Detective Craven stood up, shooting his partner a silencing look. Glancing down at you with a warmer expression, the older man gestured towards the door with his hand.

“That’s all the questions we have for now. We appreciate you speaking with us. I’ll walk you out.”

The precinct was bustling. Various murmurs of conversation buzzed in your ears. People were breezing past in every direction, but amidst the sea of chaos, you spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. Annie jumped up from the chair she’d been sitting in and forced her way through the waves of people, not once muttering an “excuse me” or waiting for someone to move out of her way. A true New Yorker.

Detective Craven placed his hand on your shoulder to get your attention and held out a white business card that had all of his information on it in embossed black text.

“If you can think of anything else that might be helpful, don’t hesitate to call.”

Taking the card into your hand, you looked up at him and forced a tight smile onto your lips, giving him a faint nod of your head.

“Of course.”

After giving your shoulder a light squeeze, Detective Craven gave Annie a nod of acknowledgement before turning and disappearing back inside the interrogation room. As soon as you turned to face her, Annie’s face contorted into an expression of pity and concern. She immediately pulled you into a hug, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of your own overwhelming emotions.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

»»———　　———««

Annie had swiftly shot down your plan to go back to work before the words could even fully leave your lips. All you wanted to do was dive head first into a distraction, to immerse yourself fully in the piles of paper and black ink sitting on your desk that were waiting to transport you to another universe and into the body of someone else whose world hadn’t just been flipped upside down. Again. 

Instead, she brought you back to your shared apartment, uncorked a bottle of wine for each of you, and did her best to help you sort through the shock and the ripples it caused within you. She didn’t understand that your instinct was to run and hide, and that was because she didn’t understand you, not really. But that wasn’t her fault. She could only understand what you allowed her to, and there were huge pieces of yourself you kept hidden from her and everyone else beneath carefully crafted layers.

Pieces you were not ready to uncover and face yet.

The following morning when you showed up to work at the publishing house, it felt like everyone was looking through you instead of at you. Everyone had heard what happened, had seen the two detectives escorting you out of your office, but none of your coworkers said a word. Not to your face, anyway. You could feel the weight of their lingering stares, their hushed whispers floating past your ear like a cold autumn breeze. It was a familiar territory you’d already escaped once.

To your relief, you hadn’t been harassed by reporters wanting an exclusive on the story. Unfortunately, crimes like what had happened to Adam were a dime a dozen in this city. You felt guilty for feeling grateful for that, but not having cameras shoved in your face to be broadcast on news outlets that circulated on social media worked in your favor. You had come to the city that millions of people called home for a reason. You came here to disappear, to be invisible. The last thing you needed was to be thrust into a spotlight that would attract attention you’d gone to great lengths to avoid.

In the midst of trying to drown out the white noise of suspicious gossip and ignoring the way the stares penetrating the glass windows of your office made your insides twist in dreaded knots, you almost missed the sound of a knock at your door. Lifting your head, you were met with the sight of the last person you ever expected to see standing in the doorway.

Billy Russo.

He was significantly more dressed up than the last time you’d seen him, looking every bit the illustrious CEO, although that signature arrogant smirk of his seemed to be missing for once. His tall frame was covered in a deep navy blue three piece suit with a crisp white dress shirt beneath the matching tie, a dark charcoal gray thick coat layering over top. His raven hair was gelled back perfectly, just like it was that night at the bar, but the gleam of mischief in his dark brown eyes was absent. As he stood in the doorway of your office, nearly taking up the entire frame, he seemed to be looking at you in an expression of something that resembled concern.

“Billy.”

The surprise in your hushed tone rang clear in the quiet of your office. Billy removed the black leather gloves from his hands, slipping them into the pocket of his overcoat.

“This a bad time?”

Your lips parted slightly as your eyes flickered down to the open manuscript on your desk before looking up at him again.

“Um…no. No…I…what are you doing here?”

Billy took a step forward into your office and quietly closed the door behind himself.

“Just came by to check on ya.”

“Check on me?”

“Derek told me what happened.”

Billy kept his eyes locked on you as he explained the reasoning behind his unexpected visit, watching you closely.

Derek Becker was a friend of Billy’s. They had served in the military together, and he now worked for Billy’s private security company, Anvil. Derek also happened to be Annie’s boyfriend. A few months back, the two of them had tried to set you and Billy up. The four of you had gone out to a bar for drinks, but instead of hitting it off with Billy, you’d found him narcissistic, and you’d had no interest in pursuing anything romantic with him. Although, based on how he had interacted with you that night, it had seemed like he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic either, just a night of physical release.

Because Annie was your best friend and roommate, and Derek was often around, you’d seen Billy a few times since then, but it wasn’t like the two of you were friends. Needless to say, the fact that he’d made the trip to your office to check on your mental wellbeing was a bit of a shock.

“I’m fine.”

Billy arched one of his dark brows, and the ghost of a smile graced the edge of his lips.

“You almost sounded like you meant that.”

You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, to protest the underlying accusation in his words, but your defense got stuck in your throat. Seeing the look on your face, Billy’s faint amusement quickly disappeared, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few steps closer towards your desk.

“I’m sorry, I’m not here to be a dick. But it’s alright if you’re not fine. Normal people wouldn’t be fine in this situation.”

“Normal people?”

Billy stared down at you for a moment silently before turning his head to look out the glass window of your office, rubbing his large palm over his mouth and perfectly trimmed beard. Looking down at you again, a flicker of amusement was back in his gaze, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I got a real good habit of sayin’ the wrong thing with you, huh?”

The self deprecation you detected in his smooth voice surprised you. You’d never heard him say anything that didn’t have an undertone of superiority or didn’t sound prideful. The guy standing in front of you wasn’t acting like the cocky rich playboy you were used to, and it made you wonder for a second if that’s what it really was; an act. A flicker of newfound curiosity had you wondering if Billy’s persona was as carefully crafted as your own.

“I don’t know if I’d call that a good habit.”

Billy let out a puff of air past his lips, giving a faint shake of his head in faux disapproval.

“Kickin’ a man while he’s down? That’s ruthless, sweetheart.”

“I think your ego can survive being knocked down a few pegs.”

Billy let out a deep chuckle at that, and his lips spread into a wolfish grin.

“Between you and me, it’s a bit more fragile than you think.”

You looked at him in faux shock, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.

“What? You mean the ego you overcompensate for with designer clothes and fancy cars is delicate?”

Billy rolled his eyes and held his hand up in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, alright. I get it. You’ve kept me humble enough for one day.”

To your surprise, and to Billy’s, you smiled. It was small, but it was real and genuine. Billy’s impromptu visit was the last thing you expected to provide a lighthearted distraction to the whirlwind of chaos that had been plaguing you since yesterday. 

As much as you hadn’t been able to stand him the night you met him, you couldn’t deny that the banter between you came effortlessly. Within the first five minutes of meeting him, you’d called him a ‘self obsessed dumbass’, and instead of getting offended, he’d smiled. It had quickly launched into a battle of wits, who could come up with the more clever retort faster, and it only took half an hour for Derek and Annie to become exhausted, realizing they’d made a huge mistake and miscalculated their match making skills. Billy seemed to enjoy antagonizing you, and you couldn’t resist putting a man like him in his place.

Everytime the two of you were around each other, it was exactly the same. Just an endless cycle of unrequited flirting and unrestrained snark.

“Humble is not exactly a word I’d use to describe you, Russo.”

Before Billy could respond, your office door suddenly opened and your boss walked in, glancing between you and Billy in a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed displeasure. He seemed to size him up before turning his attention towards you, not so subtly letting his eyes roam over your figure sitting behind your desk in a way that made your skin crawl, which wasn’t missed by Billy. John gestured his head in Billy’s direction.

“Another detective?”

There was clear annoyance in John’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by you. It wasn’t lost on Billy either, and his posture seemed to go rigid.

“No. No, um…friend.”

Friend. Using that word to describe Billy tasted foreign on your tongue, but Billy didn’t appear to react to it. His dark brown eyes sized John up in a similar fashion as your boss had done to him, only Billy didn’t even attempt to hide his judgment and lack of impression.

“You know, most people knock before just walkin’ in.”

Both yours and John’s heads turned towards Billy. You were momentarily stunned by the way Billy had so casually called out John’s abrupt intrusion, and John looked visibly irritated, but he turned to face Billy with a forced smile on his mouth.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m John Altieri. I own this publishing house.”

Unlike John, Billy didn’t plaster a fake smile on his face for politeness, or speak in a faux friendly tone. Maintaining eye contact, he reached out to grasp John’s outstretched hand with more firmness than necessary as he shook it.

“Billy Russo. I own the building.”

That bombshell had you sitting up straighter in your chair and blinking a few times in surprise. Billy owned the building? Since when? That was definitely news to you.

The smile on John’s face faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered and nodded, trying to appear unphased by that revelation.

“Pleasure. If you don’t mind, I have some important things to discuss with Y/N/N. In private.”

Billy outwardly looked calm and collected, but you swore you saw a flicker of anger in his dark brown eyes. He didn’t seem to like hearing your boss refer to you with a nickname that was spoken with too saccharine of a tone for a superior to speak about their employee. Not that you liked it either. John seemed to always maintain a balance on that tightrope of not being inappropriate enough to report him to HR, but being too friendly for you to not feel uncomfortable. 

The bastard was clever, you’d give him that. He knew what he was doing. He was careful and cautious enough that it couldn’t be classified as textbook harassment, and could be argued as a simple misunderstanding. It made you want to stab him with your pen every time you caught him staring at your chest or your legs.

After letting a purposeful uncomfortable moment of silence pass, Billy looked down at John, that signature smirk you were used to seeing on his lips spreading slowly like a sun rising over the skyline.

“Of course.”

Turning his head to look at you again, Billy gave you a faint nod of his head and a wink.

“See ya later, sweetheart.”

Giving John one last final unimpressed and cold side eye, Billy pulled his leather gloves out of his overcoat pocket and turned to leave your office with a confident stride, leaving you and John alone in your office, and your mind swirling with a flurry of questions about Billy Russo.

»»———　　———««

By the time you walked through the front door of yours and Annie’s shared apartment, all you wanted was a hot shower and a few hours of sleep. You’d spent last night tossing and turning, haunted by the nightmare your life had once again turned into, and you felt the exhaustion in every cell of your body. Tossing your keys into the little green bowl on the side table by the front door, your footsteps were slow and sluggish as you headed down the hall on the left towards your bedroom.

Dropping your purse onto your bed, you sat down on the edge of it and slipped off your shoes, letting them drop on the hardwood floor with a soft thud. Letting out a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and hunched over, covering your face with both of your hands. The muffled noise of your ringtone began to sound from your purse. Dragging your palms down your face, you slipped one of your hands into your purse to dig for your phone blindly, absentmindedly hitting the answer button and bringing it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello Y/N.”

The voice that sounded on the other end of the line wasn’t one you recognized. Pulling your phone away from your ear, you looked down at the lit screen and read “unknown caller”. A furrow creased between your brows as you brought your phone back up to your ear, running one of your hands through the roots of your hair to push it back.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“I guess your new boyfriend didn’t make the cut.”

Immediately your hand froze, and your eyes widened. A mix of confusion, disbelief, and anger coursed through you, but the latter won out.

“Excuse me?”

Your tone quickly shifted from one of puzzlement to pure fury as you sat up straighter. A sinister chuckle from the deep mysterious voice on the other end of the line further incensed you.

“Did you really think I’d let anyone else have you, Cassia?”

The phone slipped out of your hand, dropping to the floor below with a harsh sound that didn’t even register in your ears. A pit of dread opened up in your stomach, and fear trickled down your spine as if someone had started to trace the frozen sharp tip of an icicle along the back of your neck. Panic spread through your nervous system like a lit match to a dehydrated forest, and the four walls of your bedroom began to close in around you, squeezing the last breath of oxygen from your lungs.

No one in New York knew that name. 

You’d left it back in California, along with your past. The past that had forced you to run to the other side of the country and bury every trace of who you were before. The past that you tried so hard to forget and cover up with a new identity and a new life. The past that was taunting you from the other end of the line.

The past that had come back, and murdered Adam.

He’d found you.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit

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