#billy bannister | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stephthestallion · 2 years ago

Text

Blue Banisters

You're Very Brave and Very Free

Warnings: Mentions of marriage struggles, infidelity, mentions of death, mentions of drug use, reunions and things left unsaid.

The house was kept in tip top shape as Maggie planned, but missing its patriarch for far longer than Maggie had ever thought he’d be gone slowly took a toll on the grand house. In the year that Big Daddy was away, they received letters, and some news trickling in from members of the expanded, and ever expanding, family. Maggie however, busied herself with the house, even as her birthday, and Big Daddy’s birthday, passed without the phone ringing for either of them. She knew she had to be careful, as Summer loomed ever closer and Big Daddy’s absence left a gaping hole she felt so acutely she couldn’t believe it wasn’t physically present. She was fond of him, is the excuse given when explaining away her reaction upon his shocking absence that fateful morning, and her trembling frame when sharing the news with Cousin Billy, his wife Mae, and their then 4, (now 5 with a 6th in Mae’s poisonous womb) children.

“I wish we hadn't had to say a word,” Maggie complained loudly one evening, a frustrating 3 months into Elvis’s absence. The family was gathered on the front porch for cocktails after a delicious dinner, and the children were making an absolute racket on the lawn. “Everyone knows Big Daddy is tired o’that shrew of a woman, an’ her no-neck monsters,” she snapped, fanning herself delicately, slowly smoking one of Jerry’s cigarettes, and enjoying her drink.

“Big Daddy adores my children, an’ we’ll all be here to greet him with the happy news when he comes back!” Billy yelled from where he sat whispering with Mae, the two of them throwing looks at Maggie and Brick. Brick stood, apparently unable to take anymore from either of them, fuming mad and pointing fingers.

“Don’t you talk to my wife like that!” his voice rose, and for the first time in memory, Maggie almost fainted. Brick hadn’t raised his voice or spoken a kind word about her in almost 6 months. Not that it was a shock, she thought, rubbing her thighs together subtly, but it was no use.

Maggie the cat, they called her. Cat in heat was how she privately thought of herself. It was an unfortunate secret that Maggie had lived untouched, since the first year of marriage to Brick Presley. Maggie often wondered if Big Daddy knew. She knew he wouldn’t do anything about it if he did, but the knowing… she had to wonder if he knew or had guessed.

The topic never came up with Brick, especially since Big Daddy got taken away. She wanted to ask him, wanted a child to fill her belly, and her heart, but she saw the look in his eyes when she so much as opened her mouth when they were alone together. Big Daddy’s departure and Maggie’s subsequent despondency weren’t the only cracks in the crumbling young couple.

Brick’s ankle, all wrapped in a cast now, had broken after a drunken night that still haunted Maggie’s nightmares.

Time had dragged on with little word of Big Daddy’s progress, and soon, almost a year had passed. Ten lonely months had passed since Big Daddy got taken away, ten months since Maggie had seen him, an even greater tragedy changed everything. There had been a phone call, a fight, and a horrible accident, and at the end of it all, Brick had lost the person that made him feel, (Maggie suspected) the way she felt about her own father in law.

As their marriage had grown more distant, but somehow no less fond in some ways, Maggie knew, in hindsight, that neither she nor Brick were to blame for her husband’s despondency. She saw how he lit up around Skipper, she had seen at the wedding, even. But Big Daddy and the Memphis Mafia were her family, and Brick was dependent on her, more so than anyone knew if her suspicions about her husband and his best man were correct.

Skipper had been, in life, more, and somehow less, than Brick’s best friend. In death, Skipper was the convenient excuse Brick had to pull away completely from Maggie, and drink more than she’d ever seen him drink. Brick’s grief was immense, and it pulled at him, tugging him away from Maggie like a rip current, though he told her time and again that he knew it wasn’t her fault.

“Well if it’s not my fault, then why won’t ya stop drinkin, and get back t’sleepin in our bed, with me?” she had wailed one night, sick from the silence, worry, and work it took to maintain Graceland while Big Daddy was away.

“I swear t’God Maggie, if ya say one more word I’ll march downstairs, tell Billy an’ Mae that you’re barren, an’ that Big Daddy won’t get one grandchild outta me unless we get a divorce!” he yelled right back. Maggie had nothing to say to that, both because of the tears in her throat tightening her jaw, and because for the first time in her life, she was afraid of him.

The next day, their 4th wedding anniversary, Maggie spent alone, wishing she could take back calling Skipper to their home that night, and wishing that Big Daddy was thinking of her too and that he was doing alright. The day after Maggie celebrated her anniversary in misery, Ms. Pollitt received the word from Jerry that everyone had been waiting for; Big Daddy was doing well, and was coming home to stay in just three days' time. Maggie trembled with excitement, or rather, she wanted to. Her emotional display when he was taken was still so fresh in everyone’s mind a year later; this was plain as day when all eyes turned to her when Ms. Pollitt made the announcement at Breakfast. Brick’s lips twitched into a smirk at her predicament, and she wanted to slap him and break things. Wanted to shame him for turning himself into a drunken spiteful fool, and for turning her into an angry, frustrated, frantic, cruel shrew. But she would not. Not in Big Daddy’s house. Instead she gave a warm smile to the family at large, dazzling her brilliant eyes at Cousin Billy, which made Mae grumble.

“Wonderful news! Forgive me if I wait until he’s back with all of us at Graceland to raise a glass, but that’s simply marvelous,” Maggie declared warmly, and demanded everyone serve themselves and dig in.

Completely against the wishes of nearly everyone involved, Mae insisted on a large family gathering to celebrate Big Daddy Presley’s return to Graceland. More offensive than that, however, was her insistence that she and Billy take care of everything.

“Mae, c’mon now, you do know, as we are all aware, that Maggie is Big Daddy’s particular favorite,” Jerry pushed back, thinking no one could hear Mae’s takeover and his stubborn refusal to let it stand. Maggie herself sat in the open window of her and Brick’s Graceland bedroom, much nicer than their room at their home in New Orleans, hearing every word.

At that moment, Maggie didn’t care that Mae wanted to upstage her. She didn’t care that she was far from her supposed home. She didn’t even care that her husband’s indifference was bordering on cruel. She was Big Daddy’s favorite. Everyone knew it. And Big Daddy was well. He was coming home. She’d see him in three days. Nothing in the next 72 hours could bring down her mood, though many forces conspired to do just that.

The day everyone had waited for finally arrived. The heat of the Memphis Summer sun beat down upon the impending festivities, a merciful breeze danced across the lawn, and the horses neighed in their paddocks. Anticipation had settled over the family, and the grand house itself. Mae and the no-neck monsters were rehearsing for some kind of hideous parade out on the lawn. There were ostentatious decorations, loud voices singing off key, and Mae blowing her infernal whistle trying to organize her little troupe. Brick had been more vicious as well, come to think of it- his ankle was hurting, still wrapped in the cast from the break, and he drank like a landlocked fish every minute of the day. Cousin Billy was the final straw that drove Maggie away from Graceland and into town, with a loudly proclaimed vicious rumor before breakfast had even been served.

“We all know he’s dyin, why can’t he just admit it? Just you wait, this place’ll be ours by the time my precious lil girl is born in October,” He said proudly, where everyone could hear. Jerry, always the loyal and trusted friend to Big Daddy, took Billy by the neck while Steve set him straight.

“It’s not true,” Maggie shook her head, staring at Brick desperately. The two of them were holed up in their room, sweating out the wait in the summer heat instead of spending a single moment around Billy and Mae. “It can’t be true.”

“What the hell do you care if it is, Maggie?” Brick asked sourly, finishing his drink and immediately pouring himself another.

“Because he’s your father,” She snapped back, turning her face away.

“Sure, Maggie. Whatever you say. Don’t ya have a new dress to buy?” he rolled his eyes. “Go have breakfast with your buddy Jerry and then shop til you drop. It’s all you’re good for.”

Maggie flinched as though she’d been slapped. Not that Brick could see her, of course. He was staring out the window, sipping his vodka on ice, and resolutely not looking at the wounds his words caused.

“I don’t deserve that. You know I don’t. Please look at me, for a moment, we can talk about this, we can talk about why you’re so angry with me,” she begged, tears forming in her eyes. She wanted to tell him the truth bubbling up in her lungs, drowning her, but he made a low sound of pure rage.

“We don’t talk about it Maggie, remember? If I’m going to keep living with you, we don’t talk about it. Ever,” he insisted, eyes nearly black.

“I’m not living with you!” She cried. “We’re occupying the same cage, Brick. That’s all.”

“Then get out of it,” he sighed, pushing open the door to the veranda. Maggie didn’t need telling twice. She bolted from the room, from Brick. She didn’t even pause to tell the Mafia she would be skipping breakfast before running to the car, wiping her tears, and heading into town. The thing that stung the most was that Brick was right; she did want a new dress for the dinner tonight. Mae could be as nasty as she wanted, Billy could be a greedy sonofabitch, and the no-neck monsters could run wild, but Maggie was determined to be what she had always been. A breath of fresh air for Big Daddy, the man who had always been so kind to his family, and her in particular. She was his favorite, she knew, and she was determined to remain so while rubbing it in everyone’s face. The only person she would spare if she could was Brick. Try as he might to push her away, she loved him, still. It was an uncomfortable feeling, grabbing a bite to eat and buying two new outfits for the day ahead all the while daydreaming about both of them; her husband and her father in law. Two very different men, and thus her pull to them was so very different. She tried to stop thinking about them, but it was impossible. She had set herself on this path. Her life revolved around them both.

By the time she got back to the house, preparation for the return of Big Daddy was in full swing. Mae led most of her children in a repetitive, screechy rendition of Dixieland, played on recorders and children’s trumpets, Billy sat in a lounge chair, pretending to watch over his family, and Jerry, Scotty, Steve, and Bones, sat on the porch, bemoaning the flagrant brown-nosing on Mae’s part.

“He can’t stand those fuckin kids,” Jerry shook his head and Bones chuckled.

“Maggie’s always right, we should all know by now,” he took a long drag of a cigarette.

“Where is she, anyhow? Where’s Brick?” Steve asked, knowing full well that those weren’t the kinds of questions one could or should ask, but for that very secrecy, those questions plagued everyone’s mind.

“I’m right here!” Maggie smiled brightly, catching the tail end of the discussion as she came up the steps, shopping bags in hand. “Brick’s upstairs gettin ready I’m sure. We’re gonna meet Big Daddy’s plane!” Her voice vibrated with excitement.

“Brick joining ya for that, Honey?” Steve asked, handing her his cigarette as Mae’s monsters ran by. She took it gratefully and took a few drags.

“I’m sure he will, unless his leg’s buggin’ him too bad,” she answered at last, her tone softer and less inviting. “I’d better head up t’see how he’s comin along gettin’ into his nice suit.” She kept a smile on her face but the hand that reached for Steve’s cigarette trembled, and she took a slow lazy drag before collecting her bags and her purse.

When she got upstairs, her eyes landed on Brick, drinking the day away still.

“Brick?” she asked as softly as possible, though her frustration was beginning to show. “Ya gonna come on down to dinner when I get back?”

“Ya just go back, where ya goin now” Brick muttered, slurring his words slightly. Maggie couldn’t help but try to drop a kiss on his damp forehead, a gesture he accepted, but not without grumbling at her.

“I’m gonna go meet Daddy’s plane, Baby, then we’ll come on back and it’ll be dinner time, ya gotta come down an’ help me out with Mae an’ Billy like ya did a few months back,” she replied, her voice filling with a dangerous kind of hope when she remembers his wholehearted defense of her.

“They ain’t gonna get up t’that kind of talk t’night, Maggie,” Brick slurred dismissively. The drink, or the heat was clearly affecting his memory.

“It goes on all the time,” she snapped. “That an’ all the little comments about how you and I haven’t had any children yet, I can hardly stand it. At least Big Daddy knows what they’re up to, that’s one thing we’ve got on our side,” Maggie smiled warmly as she walked to the mirror with her shopping. She had work to do,

“Our side? What else exactly, do we got on our side?” Brick asked snidely.

“Big Daddy adores us,” she replied confidently, changing her stockings quickly and slipping on her new skirt, white with pale blue flowers. She smoothed her hands over herself in the mirror, ignoring Brick and the hammering of her heart in her chest to assess her reflection.

“An’ he adores Billy too,” Brick rolled his eyes. “Don’t look like that, Maggie, he does.”

“But he hate hate hates that awful shrew, Mae,” Maggie smirked confidently. “And he adores me, you know he does,” she said, her voice softening at the mention of the man who’s plane would be landing at any minute. “An’ I think he’s still got an eye for girls, if ya ask me.”

“What makes ya think that, Maggie? The nonexistent parade of women in an’ out o’ this place?” he snorted, finishing his drink and pouring another almost in the same breath.

“The fact that he’s got a bit of a crush on me.” The self satisfied smile on Maggie’s face was almost enough to make Brick puke.

“That kind o’talk is disgusting, Maggie,” he spits at her, but she was not to be deterred.

“You’re a puritan, Brick, a back achin’ puritan, that’s your problem. Billy an’ Mae sense that about you, that’t why they make fun of me so, for our havin no children yet, even though that’s all I want,” her voice carried softly through the room like breeze through the trees as she sat beside him, leaning in a little. She wanted a kiss, and once upon a time, Brick would be able to give it to her, but not today. Maybe not ever again.

“Ya want children so damn bad, Maggie, take a lover. Jerry’d take care o’ya in a heartbeat.”

The words from her husband who she, against reason, still loved, were a knife in Maggie’s chest. She flinched back from where he lay, which must have looked so odd to anyone who might have looked in on this private pain; a woman flinching back from her husband who was in no position to strike her. His prone form took no notice of her suffering as he lay, elevating that infernal broken ankle all the while, taking barely any notice of the beautiful woman he kept chained to his side.

“That’s not fair, Brick,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. She didn’t want to be sad when she saw Big Daddy again.

“Life’s not fair, Maggie,” he sighed, turning fully away from her. “You’d better go if you’re going to meet the plane.”

Maggie didn’t need telling twice. Slipping back into her heels and collecting her purse and her lipstick quickly, she practically ran out the door to the balcony, down the steps to the front yard, and into the pink Cadillac that had been reserved, in Big Daddy’s absence, for her particular use. Damn this family, and damn Brick too, for suggesting she sleep with Jerry. The man was handsome, no doubt, but not Maggie’s type. Maggie’s type, as far as anyone was concerned, was forever and always Brick Presley. That was all anyone knew or could reasonably claim about Maggie, and that was true. Brick was the only man for her… with one impossible, but notable exception.

That notable exception was on the plane that had barely just landed when Maggie arrived at the air strip. Mae, Billy, and the children were full steam ahead, barrelling loudly, with their offkey parade of music and chanting, toward where the door to the plane opened, and Elvis Presley, the man himself, stepped out into the sunshine. At the top of the stairs, he paused, barely hiding his disdain for the noise surrounding him, looking past the crowd of children led by a widely smiling Mae. His eyes met Maggie’s and her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t help it. He looked amazing, bold, healthy, brave, and free. She hung back though, waiting as Billy thrust his children upon the long-awaited patriarch of the Memphis Mafia.

“Give the children a big kiss, Big Daddy, we all missed ya somethin’ fierce,” Mae practically yelled.

Big Daddy rolled his eyes behind his shades, but Maggie saw and her stomach clenched with a ferocity she’d never known.

“Not right now, Billy, get ‘em outta here,” he said briskly, walking with a strong determined gait to where Maggie stood waiting patiently. A smile settled on both of their faces as he stepped into her space.

“Ain’t you the sweetest sight f’sore eyes?” he sighed softly, exhaling months of heartache at the mere sight of her. His youthful lopsided smile made her stomach flutter, and she couldn’t help but squeal with delight when he scooped her into a hug and spun her in a circle.

“Big Daddy!” she laughed, and kissed him on the cheek, and his heart grew even stronger than the months of treatment could ever have done as he saw how she looked at him, as though he hung the sun, moon, and stars.

“Maggie the Cat,” he grinned broadly at her, his hand cupping her jaw. “Ya look good. You’re all flushed, darlin, ya glowin yet?” His eyes travel down to her stomach and she shakes her head.

“Not yet, Mr. Presley, just happy t’see ya is all. We can talk back at the house,” she demurred, adjusting her skirt nervously. “I’m sure ya wanna ride back with Billy an’ the kids,” she blushed, knowing he didn’t, but very aware suddenly of her own shortcomings. Of her empty womb. Of her failing marriage to Mr. Presley’s son.

“Course I don’t darlin, an’ a man who’s been through all I done needs the company of a beautiful woman. An’ I see ya look good with my other favorite lady,” he gestured to the car, before getting in the passenger seat, as Mae and Billy gaped at the pair of them.

“Ya sure ya don’t wanna drive?” She laughed, fighting the temptation to lean over the door of the car, give him a view of her chest, and kiss his soft, plush lips.

“Nah, wanna relax a bit, an’ I wanna see how ya handle this ol’ girl,” he pats the dashboard with affection. He looked up at Maggie as though he wanted to add something, but instead he just squeezed her hand and kissed it, before letting her go.The low purr that escaped his chest when she walked around the front of the car in that tight skirt was mercifully inaudible to anyone but him and God, and he sent up a silent prayer asking for forgiveness for the way his body longed to cover her slight frame and give her what she was so clearly not getting.

“We’ll go straight t’the house, Big Daddy,” Maggie was breathless when she took her seat behind the wheel. Adrenaline, joy, and arousal flooded her system, making it hard to catch her breath. “Everyone’s making a big fuss, would ya believe? I kept th’place in tiptop shape for ya, an’ they insist on makin a mess for a big dinner,” she laughed and he chuckled with her.

“So everyone’s at the house then?” he asked, wistful for a moment alone with her, just moments of her attention on him as long as he could hold it.

“Just about!” she replied brightly, and he cleared his throat.

“Then we’re stoppin at Circle G f’a bit, wanna go see Bear,” he hummed, thinking about the company of his horses. It was hard at times to see past the gaping loss he felt most during his time in treatment, but now that he was back and feeling well enough to think and feel for his own self, there were many aspects of home he had missed.

“I know he missed ya, Mr. Presley, that’s a fine idea,” the soft melody of Maggie agreeing with him was music to his ears in more ways than one, and God Above had he missed music. He wasn’t sure, in his lack of certitude as to his way forward, if he’d perform again, but playing and singing would always be a part of his heart.

“I missed home. Missed a lot,” he confessed and a small hand darted out to rest momentarily on his, so fast and soft he swore he invented the whole thing. He chose not to mention it as they pulled up to the large white paddock fence, and Bear and Rising Sun came running over, as though he’d only been gone a week. Billy and Mae drove past, looking as though they wanted to pull over and join, but Maggie successfully waved them off, much to Elvis’s gratitude.

When she turned around to make a scathing joke at Mae’s expense, but Big Daddy was looking at his horses with such soft fondness it almost made Maggie sink into the ground. Here was a man who would forever be just out of reach for her, with a tender heart, big hands, and red hot American blood that pumped through his veins with renewed strength. Surely, he’d take a lover, and Maggie would have to endure yet another heartache, atop the thankless empty life as the wife of Brick Presley. The thought was torture, and she fought tears as she stood by his side, watching the horses.

“It’s damn good to see you back where you belong, Big Daddy,” She said brightly, trying to conceal her own burdens from him. His step was so light now, and a smile played so easily upon his lips that she didn’t dare tread where she wasn't wanted. For all the wonderful things about him, Big Daddy’s temper was just as legendary as his big heart.

“Be honest, Maggie, did ya think I wouldn’t be back?” He asked, patting Bear’s nose absently, as though his mind was divided no matter which way he directed his piercing attention.

She wanted to say she’d never doubted him for a moment. She wanted to say that she’d never thought for a moment that he’d leave Graceland forever. But it wasn’t true, and she knew he’d know. He always knew, always saw her.

“I wanted to believe,” she confessed. “But ya didn’t call, an’ I though you were scared t’tell me an’ Brick somethin’ dreadful, an’ then Mae an’ Billy were goin’ on about how if ya been gone this long without any news, then if they ever did send ya home, it’d be t’set affairs in order an’ go home t’the Lord in your own bed,” she shuffled her feet a bit, not wanting to upset him or be a tattler on Billy and Mae. Big Daddy’s disdain for the pair of them was obvious, but she could remain in his good graces without stooping to the level of mean gossip. She was better than that. For Big Daddy, she could and would be better than that.

“Well, then, my dear,” Big Daddy sighed, and looked at her with a playful but all consuming glint in his blue eyes. “Why don’ we go ahead an’ keep this lil chat between us?” his smile expanded across his whole face as he looked out on to his beloved horses.

“Whatcha mean, Big Daddy?” she asked, hanging on his every word. He either had the best news, or the worst.

“I’m gonna live, Maggie,” he grinned. “I’m gonna live. The doctors fixed me right up an’ got me off the damn pills,” he winked at her. “I was real scared there for a moment, I don’t mind tellin ya. I’ve got a million kinds of feelings left in this ol’ heart, an’ I wanna do somethin’ with em. Make some music, ya know? Be the kind of man I wanna be.” His eyes landed on her and she returned the look with the sweetest smile he swore he’d ever seen. Maggie had no idea, he could see, what he was speaking of, or she’d surely run for the hills. But he knew he had to do something with the time he’d been given.

“Well I think that’s a fine idea, Big Daddy,” she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Ya always were the best this side of the Mississippi.”

“You’re jus’ sayin that cuz you’re hungry, Darlin, I can tell. Let’s go up t’the house, watch Mae an’ Billy sweat it out waitin’ fo’me to keel over dead in m’dinner.” he laughed, a big laugh that shook through the trees. She laughed with him, and they got back in the car to drive up the rest of the way to that beautiful home, Graceland.

Awaiting them, once more, there was Mae and the children making a fuss, but Big Daddy paid them no mind, waving off their loud music, high nasally voices, and cloying attention. Upon seeing the old house, Big Daddy felt emboldened to ask something that had played on his mind since long before he had gone away.

“Maggie dear, is everything alright between you an’ Brick?” he asked. “I mean, Billy got all his goddamn children runnin wild ‘round here, an’ I know you’d make a finer set o’little ones than… well, hell. Anyone, but especially Mae,” he chuckled.

“Brick and I are fine, Big Daddy, we’re tryin’ now in fact. Jus’ been a lil preoccupied with wantin’ ya back home with us, and now that you’re home, I’m sure everythin will move right along as it should,” She said brightly, biting her tongue to fight the flood of tears threatening to break free.

“Why’s he makin’ such a fuss for? Brick don’ ruffle his feathers f’nobody,” Big Daddy shook his head.

“He’s worried, Big Daddy, Brick loves you,” Maggie scolded him gently. “You know he does.”

“Yeah, but does he love you?” Elvis retorted, knowing he was goading her. Maggie tried to pay no mind, but she knew the jig was up. At some point she’d have to stop lying to him about her marriage to his son, sooner than later it seemed.

“What do you want, Big Daddy? Proof?” she chuckled nervously, getting out of the car to avoid looking at him, and he knew in that moment he’d hurt her. Gone too far, or if not too far, aimed his questions in the wrong direction. He quickly got out too, and his hand shot out to hold hers. Looking into her eyes, he leaned in and said, as though for a moment it was just the two of them in all the world,

“If I was married to you three years, you’d have the living proof. Three babies runnin around, and a fourth in the oven.” He looked so sincere in the moment, so full of love for her, that she leaned in a little, chasing a kiss she knew could never come, until the world righted itself when Jerry, Steve, and Billy’s 5 children surrounded them in a rush to greet Elvis Presley, and welcome him back to Graceland, pulling him and Maggie farther apart than ever.

#elvis presley x reader #big daddy elvis #blue bannisters #my heart did a funny thing when i saw this #the disdain for billy mae and their crotch goblins is going to be my new favorite thing #i love how it’s common knowledge that Maggie is Big Daddy’s favorite #this story is going to tear my heart in two #Birdy is going to be the death of me

63 notes · View notes

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months ago

Text

Hold Me Steady

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Dry humping. Word count: ~1.3k

Summary: Billy has a close encounter with one of the hotel's maids after agreeing to help her decorate the employee sitting space for Christmas.

Author's note: Day one of the Smuffmas prompts - "hand holding and dry humping". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She struggles down the stairs into the employee sitting room, the beaten up, old cardboard box she carries hindering her view, meaning she has to pick her way carefully downwards, one step at a time.

Halfway down, a large set of hands grip the box from underneath, relieving her of her burden, and she’s met with the wide eyed curious stare of bellboy, Billy Taylor.

“I’ll take that for you,” he says, giving her one of his trademark tight lipped smiles, before walking it the rest of the way down for her.

“Thanks, Billy,” she tells him gratefully, sighing with relief. “You on break?”

“Yeah, got fifteen minutes left,” he responds, setting the box down next to a pile of stacked band equipment. “What’s in here then?”

“The foyer’s being decorated for Christmas,” she tells him, coming to stand beside him. “This stuff’s not good enough to go out, apparently. Can you believe Mr. Garland wants me to throw it away?!”

Billy crouches, tugging open the box, raising his eyebrows as he pulls out a length of threadbare silver tinsel. “I can, actually.”

She playfully swats him on the shoulder, taking the tinsel from him and weaving it through the iron bannister of the stairs. “Thought we could decorate the sitting room with it. Looks more festive already, don’t you think?”

Billy chuckles. “If it makes you ‘appy, then why not? Want some help?”

She smiles, feeling her skin heat up as he looks up at her from where he’s kneeling. “You’re on break, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s not work if I actually want to do it,” he says with a shrug.

They grin at each other, and he continues to rummage through the box, pulling out cracked baubles and torn paper stars, as she surveys the small under the stairs space that the staff have to relax in.

“It’s weird to think I won’t be here next Christmas,” Billy muses, as he hands her decorations out of the box.

She looks away, focusing on running the colourful streamers through her fingers, doing her best to ignore the twinge of sadness that plucks painfully at her heartstrings. “Oh, yeah, you’ll be drafted, won’t you? I expect you’ll miss your mum’s figgy pudding.”

“I’d sooner have trench foot than eat mum’s figgy pudding, ‘orrible stuff.”

They laugh, and she allows herself a brief moment to admire the way Billy’s cheeks dimple and his eyes sparkle when he’s happy, before returning her focus to the decorations.

Within five minutes, the old piano in the corner is decked out in ragged paper streamers, the staircase’s iron bannister is woven with tinsel that’s seen better days, and a fruit bowl in the centre of the table contains the battered remains of tree ornaments of varying shapes and colours - a fitting centerpiece for the dowdy little space.

She steps back, admiring their work, eyeing the empty alcove above the brown leather sofa that’s tucked away against the back wall.

“Would be nice if we could hang this last piece of tinsel up there,” she muses, “not sure how we’d reach though.”

Billy steps behind her, looking with keen interest at the space she’s referring to. “I think there’s a step ladder in the storage room, wait here.”

He disappears out the back and a few moments later returns with a rickety wooden folding step ladder. It wobbles precariously as he unfolds it, setting it down near the sofa.

She draws in a nervous breath, brow furrowing as she looks at it. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

He presses his lips into a tight line, tugging at the hem of his uniform jacket. “Er…probably best if you go up, less chance of you breaking it. I can hold it steady.”

She hesitates for a few seconds, looking at it with uncertainty.

The final piece of tinsel above the alcove really would look nice.

“Okay, but promise you won’t let me fall?”

“Cross my heart,” he says, signing a cross over the left side of his chest.

She giggles, stepping forward and begins to climb up the ladder. It wobbles as she moves, making her breath hitch, until she feels Billy grab either side of it, holding it still. She climbs the rest of the way, pinning the last of the tinsel to the wall, allowing it to bow slightly in the middle.

It’s not until her hands are free that she realises the view that Billy must have, and brushes a palm over her skirt, making sure her backside is covered. She sees Billy turn scarlet in her peripheral vision, averting his gaze, and her heart flutters at the sight.

“Here, look, we missed something,” she hears Billy say, as she slowly starts to climb back down. She turns slightly, seeing him holding up mistletoe - a dried, long dead bunch of it, tied together with twine.

Butterflies flutter in her stomach at the sight. “That’s mistletoe, Billy…” She breathes quietly.

“Yeah…” he replies, chest heaving as he stares up at her.

A moment of silence passes between them as they gaze into each other’s eyes, until she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Billy gasps, turning pink all the way to his ears, quickly stepping back, and she squeals, toppling forward as the ladder wobbles beneath her.

He is quick to drop the mistletoe, grasping her hands, allowing her weight to push him back into a seated position on the sofa, to prevent her from falling.

They both breathe heavily as she straddles his lap, their hands still clasped together, staring at each other with wide eyes.

“You saved me,” she whispers, “but you dropped the mistletoe.”

“You…you can still kiss me…if you’d like to?” He says hopefully.

She lets go of his hand, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. It’s soft at first, until his arm moves to wrap itself around her waist, pressing her close to him.

The kiss deepens, Billy groaning in approval as her tongue slips against his, their combined breaths hot and heavy against each other. She can feel his rapidly growing hardness through his trousers and grinds herself against it, as his hand slips beneath her skirt, the press of his fingertips feather light against the hem of her knickers through her tights.

There is nothing but the sound of the shared sticky click of their saliva as their mouths move together, and the creak of the leather sofa cushions as their hips push wantonly against each other. Desire sizzles in her blood, causing her core to throb with every press of his clothed length against her.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs leading down to the sitting room causes her to scramble from his lap, quickly smoothing down her maid’s uniform.

“Billy?” Calls out the voice of Feldman as he descends.

“Just on break, sir,” Billy calls back, standing and stealthily attempting to adjust himself.

“That ended ten minutes ago,” the older man says exasperatedly. “Come on, there are guests checking in upstairs with luggage that needs bringing to their rooms.”

Billy’s eyes dart around in panic, his cheeks flushing. “Sorry, sir, lost track of the time. Can I quickly go to the toilet first?”

Feldman sighs. “Make it quick.”

Billy nods, shooting her an apologetic look before walking quickly away.

She puts a hand over her mouth, stifling an embarrassed giggle, knowing exactly what he intends to do.

“What have you two been doing down here then?” Feldman asks her, eyeing her suspiciously.

She clears her throat, smoothing her hands over her uniform once more, hoping her flustered appearance doesn’t give too much away. “Putting up decorations, Mr. Feldman. Looks great, doesn’t it?” She asks with a smile.

His eyes narrow, distaste apparent on his face as his eyes sweep the room, before looking back at her. “Yes, if you say so.”

She stoops, picking the mistletoe up off the floor and tucking it away in her apron pocket. She has a spring in her step as goes back upstairs.

That will definitely come in handy later.

#billy taylor x reader #ewan mitchell #billy taylor smut #billy taylor the halcyon #the halcyon billy taylor #billy taylor x you #billy taylor x y/n #billy taylor imagine #billy taylor fan fiction #billy taylor fanfiction #billy taylor fanfic #billy taylor fan fic #the halcyon #the halcyon fan fic #the halcyon fanfic #the halcyon fanfiction #the halcyon fan fiction

297 notes · View notes

lupinsversion · 25 days ago

Text

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨 - 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

• summary: the party is still in full swing, and reader finds herself outside for some quiet from the raging feelings in her head. billy is still upset with how their last conversation ended and goes to search for her. will she talk to him, give him the time of day?

• a/n: here is part twooo <3 if you haven’t read part one, click the link just a little ways down. i originally rewritten this part at least five times because nothing really felt right to me, but i’m proud with this versionnn

• contains: billy russo x fem reader, best friends to lovers trope, slight alcohol intoxication, fluff

• word count: 2k

masterlist || requests || part one

As the party wore on, the bodies on the property lessened, but it was still in full swing. She found herself sitting on the porch steps, letting the cold breeze numb her senses. She was a little tipsy at this point, nursing a warm bottle of beer to her chest.

He was in a shitty mood. He’d spent the rest of the party trying to distract himself, drinking and chatting with other people, but his mind kept wandering back to her.

He stepped out of the house, the cold air hitting his face and helping to clear his mind a little. He looked around, his eyes scanning the area until they landed on her sitting on the steps. He walked over to her, his expression still tense as he stopped in front of her, the porch light casting shadows on his face.

She noticed his boots right away as her gaze was locked on the pavement. She knew those boots well, maybe more than she should’ve. She had them sitting in her entryway countless of times, she even untied them when he fell asleep whilst still wearing them.

He stayed silent for a moment, studying her face, trying to gauge her mood. She still wouldn’t look at him, her gaze fixated on the ground below her. He let out a low sigh, his irritation from before resurfacing slighting, but he forced himself to suppress it for now. “Are you gonna look at me?“ He grumbled, his tone betraying his annoyance at being ignored.

“I can’t.” She murmured.

His annoyance was replaced by a flicker of surprise at her words. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and it only made his curiosity grow. He leaned back against the bannister of the steps, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at her.

“Can’t or won’t?” He asked, his tone slightly softer this time.

“Both.” She shrugged nonchalantly, her fingers fiddling with the beer bottle as her eyes seemed to focus on a single rock on the ground. “Because if I do, then my progress with getting rid of these stupid feelings I shouldn’t be feeling to go away will all go to shit.” Her foot kicked at the rock in frustration.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise at her confession, his lips parting slightly as he took in her words. He had some suspicions of how she felt about him, but having her actually admitting it... it caught him off guard.

He uncrossed his arms, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he studied her for a moment, his mind racing with questions. “Feelings for who?“ He feigned ignorance in a half-hearted attempt to get her to say it outloud.

“Ignore me, I’m tipsy.” She waved him off before taking a sip of her beer, cringing slightly at the taste.

He rolled his eyes in response to her words, not buying her attempts to brush it off. He knew damn well that she was more than just tipsy.

He let out a huff before stepping forward, closing the gap between them. Without hesitation he reached out, snatching the bottle from her hand.

“You’re cut off.” He said firmly, holding the bottle out of her reach.

Usually, she would fight and demand her bottle back. But tonight? She was too worn out by her own thoughts running through her head. “Fair.”

He was expecting some fight from her, some sort of protest, but instead she just gave in. Her lack of protest only made his concern for her grow. She was far too quiet, clearly in her own head, probably overanalyzing her thoughts.

He looked down at the bottle in his hand, then at her. He knew he should leave her alone, let her process whatever it was she was going through, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet at least.

He sat down beside her, keeping a small distance between them, placing the bottle on the step beside him.

“You should really just go.” She whispered before rubbing her shoes against the pavement.

He let out a frustrated sigh, his jaw clenching slightly as he looked at her. He was fed up with her trying to get him to leave, trying to push him away like this. He wasn’t leaving, not when she clearly needed someone.

He turned to face her, his eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke, his voice firm. “No.“ He stated simply. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on with you tonight.“

She took a deep breath, pulling her sweater over her hands, a sign of her inner turmoil. “It’s nothing, really. Stupid.”

He didn’t believe that for a second. He knew her well enough to sense when something was gnawing away at her.

He let out a low scoff, his gaze still fixed on her, his expression a mix of irritation and concern.

“Bullshit.“ He grumbled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he fixed her with a firm look. “It’s not nothing. You’ve been avoiding me all night. You won’t even look at me. Something’s up.“

“I don’t want to look at you because then I’ll look at those stupid lips of yours and want to kiss you.” She grumbled under her breath, her shoe digging slightly into the ground in frustration.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise once again as her words hit him. He wasn’t expecting her to be so… blunt. But it explained a lot.

He remained silent for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to process the fact that she wanted to kiss him. And he wanted to kiss her, more than he cared to admit. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice a little shaky, his own frustration building up. “Then why don’t you?“

She muttered something incoherently, before glancing at him out of the corner of her eye before averting her gaze again. “Well, it’s not that easy is it?”

He watched as she looked at him, her gaze flickering away just as quickly. He knew she was struggling now, fighting some internal battle. He leaned in closer, closing the distance between them. his voice was low and rough. “I think it is that easy.“ He said, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. “All you have to do is look at me and kiss me. That’s it.“

“It’s not just a passing kiss, I want.” She protested. Part of her knew she was going to regret this come morning, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. “It’s not just a kiss. Not to me.”

His breath hitched as her words hit him, his chest tightening at the admission. She wanted more than just a kiss. She wanted something real, something like he wanted.

He moved even closer, his body nearly pressing against hers as he looked down at her, his heart racing in his chest.

“Neither do I.” He murmured, his eyes searching hers. “I don’t want just a kiss. I want all of you.”

She looked up at him for the longest time, hope filling within her irises. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, saying things he hadn’t actually said, she was after all tipsy and it wouldn’t have been the first time of the sort.

He held her gaze, his eyes locked on hers, filled with a mix of desire and raw emotion. He wanted her to understand the weight of his words, to know that he meant every single one. He slowly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not breaking eye contact, his hand lingering on the side of her face. “I want you.” He whispered, his voice low and rough, filled with a sincerity that left no room for misinterpretation.

“You’re lying.” She whispered. “That’s it. You have to be lying, or this some cruel sick joke.”

His heart plummeted at the sound of her words, the disbelief in her voice stabbing him like a dagger in the chest. She didn’t believe him. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him as he spoke, his voice firm and certain. “I’m not lying.” He said, his jaw clenching slightly. “This isn’t a joke. I want you. I have for a long time. I’ve just been too damn scared to tell you.”

“William Russo…” She whispered his name, it rolling off her tongue in ease.

Hearing her say his name, it sent a shiver down his spine. It was a simple thing, but it had such a powerful effect on him. ”That’s me.” He murmured, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. He held her gaze, silently begging her to believe him, to understand that he meant every word he said.

“What are you doing to me?”

He let out a low chuckle, his thumbs continuing to lightly stroke her skin. “What am I doing to you?” He repeated, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against hers, his gaze unwavering.

“I’m showing you how I feel about you. I’m telling you that I want you, that I’ve wanted you for a long time. I’m fighting off the urge to kiss you till you believe me.”

“I believe you.” She whispered. “But if you don’t kiss me here soon, I’ll be forced to pour my warm beer all over you.”

He let out a low laugh, amused by her threat. He was tempted to try and call her bluff, but he was too impatient to wait any longer. He wanted to kiss her so badly he could practically taste her on his lips.

He moved closer, one hand still gently holding her face, the other sliding down her body to rest on her hip, holding her in place. “That’s not a good way to get me to kiss you.” He murmured, his voice low and teasing.

“But it’s still a way.” A cocky smirk formed on her lips before shaking her head quickly, clearly on the fence about something. “Actually, no. No. Don’t kiss me.”

He huffed in amusement at her words, both frustrated and amused by her teasing back. He let out a small growl as she told him not to kiss her, his hand gripping her hip a little tighter, his eyes darkened. “Don’t kiss you?” He repeated, his voice a low rasp, his face mere inches away from hers. “Why the hell not?”

She smiled, despite his obvious mood change. “I want to remember what it feels like to kiss you for the first time.”

His heart skipped a beat at her words, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over him. He’d been expecting more sass, more playful banter, but instead she gave him an unexpectedly sweet answer.

He let his forehead rest against hers once more, his eyes locked on hers, filled with a mix of desire and adoration. “You’re killing me, you know.” He murmured, his voice low and rough. “You’re just gonna make me want to kiss you even more.”

“I want to remember it.” She repeated. “I just… I want to be sober for it.” She sucked in her bottom lip, nibbling on it nervously.

His fingers gently caressed her hip, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. He understood her desire to be sober for their first kiss, he really did. It made sense. But god, it was hard to wait.

He let out a short huff of breath, his eyes darkening as he fought the urge to give in to the temptation of kissing her right then and there.

“Fine.” He murmured, his voice a mix of resignation and desire. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait until you’re sober, no matter how much it kills me to not kiss you right now.”

She couldn’t help but let out the softest sound of laughter, nuzzling her face further into his hand. “Thank you.” She spoke before pressing a lingering kiss to his palm.

He savored the feeling of her nuzzling her face against his hand, his heart stuttering in his chest at the sweet gesture. And when she kissed his palm, it sent a wave of heat through his body, making it take all of his restraint not to react further.

He let out a low growl, his fingers gently gripping her face as he spoke, his voice a low rumble. “Don’t thank me yet. This is gonna be one long ass wait.”

#the punisher #marvel #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #billy russo smut #billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes

47 notes · View notes

puppetwoman17 · 1 year ago

Text

An idea just popped into my head and I had to put it on here!

So, during a battle, the JL is hit with a spell that makes them forget they’re superheroes. They can’t remember their powers(if they have any), they have no idea why they’re wearing weird costumes, they don’t know each other, etc.

They all wake up in their homes with no memory of their alter egos, basically, and they slowly start to piece their lives back together. Remember bits and pieces. Finally, finally, they meet back up and realize they’re a team. That they’ve been MIA for so long and that they need to get back in the game.

But there’s one person whose been unaccounted for. Captain Marvel.

Hal makes this known first. Judging from the scale of the spell, they’ll need the Champion now more than ever. But no one knows where he is. No one knows his identity. Where he lives. Whether he looks different in his civilian form. How the spell would treat him, because for all they know, all Marvel is is a superhero.

But one person knows. Cyborg. He knows that Billy is Marvel. He knows Billy recently got an apartment through illegal means and just got back in school. That he got a job at Whiz and is doing so much on top of his duties as Champion.

Billy made him promise not to tell. That he would tell them if(and Cy hated the phrasing of “if”) he turned eighteen. Maybe even twenty. Just at an age where they can’t legally get involved in his life.

But desperate times call for desperate measures. They’ve already wasted too much time. Vic can deal with the consequences later.

So he tells the rest of the League that he knows where Marvel is. There’s obviously a riot because why didn’t he tell them he knew ANYTHING about their captain? But Batman silences them, telling them that that conversation will be saved for later. He tells Vic to take them to him if he thinks he might be on Earth. Vic says he’s definitely on Earth.

So there they are, standing in front of an old, battered apartment building with squatters giving them dirty looks. A leaking pipe. Uneven stairs. The smell…isn’t the best. Flash gives Vic a pointed look because there is absolutely no way the flashy, boy-scout, good-natured Marvel is living in a place like this. Vic reassures everyone that they’re in the right place.

He goes up to one of the ladies peering down the stair bannister on the second floor and asks if Billy is here right now. She glares silently and gives him a look that says “what’s it to you?”. He pleads with her, tells her he’s in danger and they only want to help him. Not totally a lie, but hey, he’s desperate.

She huffs, her look protective. She tells them that if she heard a scream, someone being hit, a thud, anything, she’ll call everyone. Who’s everyone? Oh, just the other thugs, cretins, gang members who live or walk around here.

Hal asks why they’re searching for this “Billy” person. Vic is quiet(on the outside).

He promises that nothing will happen, and that he’ll leave the door open so others can see what’s happening. She approves, albeit hesitantly, and tells him Billy’s room number.

Batman being Batman, he asks Vic if Billy is the Captain’s civilian identity. Vic nods because if he opens his mouth he might start screaming.

They find this door at the end of the hall, scratchy and grey and the complete opposite of the captain. Now it’s Clark’s turn to make sure that they’re in the right place. Vic doesn’t answer. Instead, he knocks on the door.

It opens.

There’s a kid standing there, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He’s wearing a battered red hoodie and there’s dirt smudging his face. His face is slightly sunken.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

The League is more than confused at this point. They’re flabbergasted. They’re completely certain that Vic’s memories are still locked somewhere. Maybe his brain’s been messed with. Maybe those circuits have finally gotten to him.

Batman is the first to say something. “Cyborg, who is this?”

Vic is quiet for a moment. He gives the kid a pleading look. Then turns back to his coworkers. “This is Captain Marvel.”

The JL look from the man and machine to the malnourished boy. Then back again. Then back again.

They’re quiet.

Then all hell breaks loose. Diana steps up to Cyborg and asks if this is all some big joke to him. Hal is speechless, studying the kid and asking if he’s sure. If he’s sure this is Marvel and not Marvel’s kid. Barry is shocked that Marvel might even have a kid. Clark is practically fuming because he remembers all the times Marvel and him fought with and against each other and how every single time, his respect for him grew.

He’s the second one to yell at Vic, asking him why the hell he thought he could keep this from them. They let a child onto the league. They brought him to battlefields and let him watch others be slaughtered. They were essentially responsible for traumatizing him.

Billy is…confused. “Hi, um. You’re kinda fighting in front of my apartment, so if you could do this somewhere else…?”

They can’t hear him. They’re too busy yelling at each other. Typical adults, amiright?

So he dips. Just dips cause he’s confused on why a bunch of adults in weird multi-colored clothing are fighting in front of his apartment.

Oh, he’s also really weirded out because there are six voices in his head, and more when the first six get desperate, telling him he’s actually an invincible demigod with the duty of protecting the entire magic community. And that he was chosen by a wizard in a subway station. So yeah, he runs.

Batman clues them in a minute too late.

Feel free to add more or put your own spin on things! Hope my word vomit made sense to y’all.

#billy batson #justice league #shazam #cyborg #hal jordon #batman #captain marvel #diana of themiscyra #superman #the flash

309 notes · View notes

usergrantaire · 11 months ago

Text

gilded age s2 finale im waiting on that s3 renewal announcement

- not the society matrons yanking the duke around like a rag doll

- marian’s gonna have to marry RICH rich now

- is it just the lighting or is christine baranski’s wig looking greyer

- no way bertha would let gladys marry billy carlton after the way she had george drive away tom blyth last season lol

- oh she’s gonna use gladys as bait to lure the duke back to her side isn’t she

- oh noooo we finally have a face to mrs fortune

- what does bannister have against chicago lmao

- aw mr borden lent mrs bruce his jacket

- gasp not larry inviting an engaged woman to the opera with him

- and marian lying that bertha was the one to invite her!

- yas everyone roasting armstrong

- yup bertha’s gonna sell gladys to the duke

- george’s sleeves are so tight 👁️👁️

- oh naur too bad they didn’t have telephones yet back then

- “you’ll stop when we get married” oh fuck off dashiell

- homemaking IS work

- not him calling marian harriet 😭 the classic wrong name outburst

- those big ass hatpins

- “i thought you loved me” bro you assumed

- the duke tug of war is exactly the kind of frivolous nonsense i expect from anything by jf

- “where else can i find all the divorces” she’s just like me fr

- another fabulous hat from bertha

- aww mrs bruce

- “we aren’t exactly alone here” yeah i think that’s kind of the point

- also that pink dress is lovely

- marian’s opera gown is incredibly frilly

- i think i recognise the pattern of bertha’s opera gown from a worth

- “why are you all being so nice to me” because they’re going to sell you to a duke babe

- after seven episodes carrie astor returns

- wow the academy is embarrassingly empty

- mamie fish took one look and dipped lmao

- the duke is named hector???

- the plot of faust foreshadowing gladys and the duke’s marriage

- on the STOOP? in front of god and everybody?? in the year of our lord 1883???

- but we won!

- jf sure loves his letters from beyond the grave, not him recycling the matthew letter plot

- yeah of course luke was a secret heir lmao

- oh they’re all on ada’s payroll now

s3 renewal announcement when i need to see gladys’ consuelo vanderbilt ass storyline fully come into fruition

#kei watches the gilded age #the gilded age #gilded age hbo

23 notes · View notes

queeenpersephone · 4 months ago

Text

tagged by @benoitblanc (ilysm arwen ur gifsets give me life and the fact that the eagles are on repeat for you makes me so happy!!) to shuffle my "on repeat" playlist and post the first ten tracks <3 pls don't judge me <3 <3

"you don't mess around with jim" by jim croce "lullabye" by billy joel "blue bannisters" by ldr (there's a fic lol) "fare well" by hozier "girl i've always been" by olivia rodrigo "obsessed" by olivia rodrigo (love the spilled part of guts lmao) "TEXAS HOLD 'EM" by beyonce "the lobster quadrille" by franz ferdinand (PLS listen to this) "espresso" by sabrina carpenter "500 miles" by peter, paul and mary

tagging ten people: @baronessblixen @scullysexual @tartts @igpitn @themorganapendragon

@katebishopofearth @kyloren @jeanmoreaux @gingerteaonthetardis @pookie-mulder if you wanna!

#this isn't too bad hahah #jim croce is a legend #tag game

7 notes · View notes

marvelmusing · 2 years ago

Note

Imagine taking Billy home to your family during Christmas and him not expecting your family to get him anything, but low and behold, he gets those cheesy pyjamas that match you and your siblings, he wakes up and gets a stocking to open, and he has just as many presents to open as you do. Like maybe you have a way younger, adorable little sister, and she comes into your room at the crack of dawn, and wakes you and Billy up, hauling you out to the living room, where the presents lay under the tree. Your little sister eventually gets your parents up, and as everyone's sitting down and opening their stockings, Billy stands off to the side watching you entertain your sister, who's showing you everything she gets out of her stocking, and your parents ask him, "Aren't you going to open your stocking?" His eyes go wide as they bring over his very own. You watching the whole thing go down, smiling.

This is so adorable, I had such a giddy smile on my face reading it

I know for a fact that my parents would 100% adopt Billy as their own child (so this little drabble is heavily inspired by my typical Christmas Day)

The smell of beef roasting in the oven fills the air, and the turkey is already sitting on the kitchen countertop, glistening bronze encased in crumpled silver foil. The TV is on, playing a rerun of top 100 Christmas songs that is the same one you’ve watched over the last five christmases at the very least.

“Has anyone seen the scissors?” You ask, lifting up a bundle of wrapping paper to search for your required tool.

Some families might clear up the wrapping as they go, but one of your favourite parts of the day is throwing the paper into a colossal pile which you’ll watch your dad struggle to wrestle into a bin sack afterwards.

“What for?” Your dad asks with a raised brow, looking over to see whatever present you were struggling to open. He frowns when he sees you empty handed.

“I thought I’d free the stockings.” You remark with a small laugh, nodding towards the stairs where the stockings have been tied to the rungs of the bannister.

Your mom’s head lifts from where she’s been studying the back of a box of shortbread.

“Oh yes, let’s do the stockings now.”

You know that if you don’t find some scissors soon, your dad will likely suggest using a knife, and Billy would probably agree with him. The two of them would be outvoted, of course, you don’t want either of them cutting themselves on Christmas Day.

“I found some.” Billy says, holding up a pair of scissors that he’s retrieved from under a box.

“Come help me.” You request, and Billy frowns. “You go up the stairs and cut the ribbon, I’ll stand on the sofa underneath and catch them.”

“Catch them?”

“There won’t be anything valuable in them.” You reassure him. “And by catch I mean I’ll hold my hand underneath and hopefully not drop them.”

Billy breathes out a laugh, shaking his head at you as he uncrosses his legs and stands from where he’s been sitting beside the tree.

He hadn’t expected to have his own pile of gifts to open this morning, stacked carefully beside your own underneath the tree. When you had assured him that your parents already considered him one of their own, he hadn’t thought that would extend to your family’s every Christmas tradition.

On the evening of Christmas Eve, he had been handed a box that you had dubbed his Christmas Eve box. Inside had been a pair of christmas-themed pyjamas that matched yours, a small hot chocolate making bundle, and a book.

Your parents knew that you and Billy were collecting the clothbound hardback classics, and your mom had ensured to get you both another addition to your collection. Billy had received Jane Eyre, whilst you had Alice in Wonderland.

Back in the present, Billy climbs up the first few steps of the stairs in your living room. You clamber onto the sofa that sits next to the length of the stairs, and take hold of the first stocking - your sister’s.

Billy takes care not to cut the elaborate tangle of chunky tinsel and fairy lights that has been woven around the bottom of the rungs. You know that both of your parents will have fussed over the decorations before you and Billy arrived.

You know your dad will have been afraid of overwhelming Billy, not wanting anyone to be stressed out by the holiday, and your mom will have wanted to go all out - considering that it was Billy’s first christmas celebrating with a family besides Frank’s.

Once the first stocking is free, you take it over to your sister, before returning to help Billy with the rest.

The two of you give out the other ones to your parents, slowly moving further up the stairs as the stockings are placed higher and higher. When it comes to yours you’re standing on your tip toes on the sofa in an attempt to reach it.

Billy cuts the ribbon a moment before you’re ready, and the stocking slips from your grasp, landing on the floor with a solid thump.

Billy freezes.

“Baby I’m so sorry.” He clasps a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide, and you laugh.

“It’s okay Billy.” You assure him, still laughing, but you frown as he begins to descend the stairs. “Where are you going?”

He frowns, and you point up to the very top of the stairs with a smile.

“There’s one more left.”

The remaining stocking looks newer than the other ones, less worn by years of being packed away into the attic alongside decorations and ornaments.

You retrieve your own stocking from the floor, and join Billy on the stairs. His eyes are filled with emotion, glossy as his throat bobs lightly. Squeezing his knee in reassurance, you sit beside him, holding onto his stocking and encouraging him into cutting it free.

The two of you manage to squeeze it through the gap between the wooden rungs. Then you watch Billy open it.

As always, the stocking is filled with a mixture of tacky little gifts, and the odd expensive one that was small enough to hide at the bottom. He pulls out your gift first.

“Is this…?” He begins, eyeing the unwrapped gift. Your smile widens as he admires the glossy metal of the handcrafted pen.

“A fancy pen, for a fancy CEO.”

He reads the small message engraved onto the side, and wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The next gift he pulls out is a pair of jazzy patterned boxers. Billy raises a brow at you, and your cheeks flush.

“Those are nothing to do with me.” His grin widens.

“Oh, really?” You nod with a small laugh.

“Yes. The pen was from me.” His brows crease lightly.

“You mean…”

You nod.

“Everyone chipped in with a present for your stocking.” You tell him, and he looks through the rungs in the bannister to survey your family.

“I love you.” Billy says suddenly. “Have I told you that yet today?”

You nod with a small smile.

“I think you have.”

He had. Almost as soon as he had woken up.

Filled with Christmas morning excitement, you end up making a warm drink in the kitchen and staring out of the window to admire the frost covered ground - not quite snow but certainly a white Christmas of sorts.

A pair of familiar arms curl around around body, one around your shoulders and another around your waist, and a solid chest presses along the length of your spine.

Billy drops a kiss on your shoulder, before nuzzling his face into the warmth at the crook of your neck.

“Merry Christmas, Billy.” You murmur softly, and you feel him smile.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” He tightens his hold on you, squeezing affectionately but also ensuring that you’re real. That’s he’s here, in your childhood home, about to spend Christmas with your family. “I love you.”

Your own smile widens, and you squeeze his forearm between your fingers, hardly daring to believe that such a quiet, love-filled moment could occur. Then you reply quietly,

“Love you too.”

Now, sitting side by side with Billy on the stairs, you lean forward to press a kiss against his cheek, and echo those same words.

“I love you too, Billy.” He smiles widely, and soon you’re beaming too. You nod back towards his stocking. “Keep going, there’s plenty more in there.”

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #the punisher au #billy russo au #rockin around the xmas fics #answered asks #thanks for the ask!

133 notes · View notes

taleweaver-ramblings · 1 year ago

Note

For the 10 characters ask: Sam Gamgee, Aragorn, Athelas, Linh Cinder, Carswell Thorne, Theoden, Eustace, Billy Bannister, Shiloh, and Ashley Stalworth!

Well, this is an interesting mix. Also, this is way harder than I expected, help. XD

Marry: Aragorn. Needs no explanation.

Drink tea with: Athelas; he tends to be at his most amenable with teacup in hand, assuming he forgives me for my dislike of Earl Grey.

Party with: Shiloh. I feel like she knows how to have a fun time.

Kiss: Carswell Thorne; I am not immune to the roguish captain vibe, and I cannot lie.

Go out on a date with: Sam Gamgee. The date is a combination gardening and cooking lesson, because I need help. XD

Push down the stairs: None of them help oh I suppose it has to be pre-dragoning Eustace. But it's a short flight of stairs, and it was an accident.

Slap: Theoden, I suppose, to try to snap him out of his funk. It would end very badly for me, but this is also a process of elimination thing.

Invade the dreams of: Billy. He canonically has some pretty exciting dreams.

Take a nap with: Cinder; I'm pretty sure she needs a LONG nap.

Rob: Ashley Stalworth. Would it go well for me? Absolutely not, but this is where I ended up via process of elimination.

Send me 10 characters and I'll tell you what I'd do with them!

#10 character ask #taleweaver answers #accidental spice #this was SO HARD #but fun #I almost put thorne in for slap but couldn't figure out who I'd want to kiss #because I don't really kiss people in general (platonic or romantic)#the lord of the rings #dragons in our midst #the city between #the chronicles of narnia #ask games #the lunar chronicles

11 notes · View notes

kanerallels · 2 years ago

Note

OH and Billy/Bonnie?

I love them. They're beautiful. What more is there to say?

#thanks for the ask!!#billy bannister #bonnie silver #diom #ask game #ship bingo

3 notes · View notes

boasamishipper · 2 months ago

Text

LARROQUETTE POLL ROUND TWO RECAP

friends, romans, larroquette stans, another round is now behind us. we fought valiantly for our larroquette faves, and the strongest (and sexiest) survived. let's meet our final four!

Dan Fielding (Night Court)

he came, he saw, he conquered! the universe's favorite chew toy of an assistant district attorney beat the cia's seduction expert in a landslide, 34 votes to 8. please join me in raising your martini glasses (filled with expensive gin and three olives, of course) in a toast to living legend Agent Roan Montgomery, who fought the good fight. in his honor, all flags will be lowered to half mast and @footnoteinhistory's Roan fancam will be mandatory viewing until the end of time.

Mark Bannister (Madhouse)

Lt. Bob Anderson's kind eyes and baby face were simply no match for Mark Bannister's yuppie mullet and suspenders: Mark won with the second highest voter turnout and the second highest margin of victory (71.4% of the vote) and advances to the final four, and Bob returns to flying the (not very) friendly skies, secure in the knowledge that he is the sexiest when it comes to men in uniform.

Jenkins (The Librarians)

the annex's caretaker has faced many battles and formidable foes in his thousand-plus years of life, but John Hemingway really gave him a run for his money here. much like the last race Jenkins was in, this race featured the highest voter turnout of the entire bracket so far (80 votes!), and Jenkins once again emerged victorious with 45 votes to Hemingway's 35. our brave knight advances to the next round, and Hemingway (and his luxurious mane) returns to the bus depot.

Carl Sack (Boston Legal)

just like he does in the courtroom, Carl Sack kept his head high, stuck to his guns, and emerged victorious. press f to pay respects for Billy Ace, who remains in my heart the sexiest larroquette character to ever ride a motorcycle, and cheer Carl on as he and his snazzy pinstripe suits move on to the final four!

Round 3 will begin at 12pm CT on 9/18.

#john larroquette #larroquette poll #dan fielding #night court #mark bannister #madhouse #jenkins #caretaker jenkins #the librarians #carl sack #boston legal

18 notes · View notes

burningexeter · 4 months ago

Text

I realized very early on that I've always been attracted to in media and fiction, unconventional protagonists that while are heroic, they're NOT at all the typical type of "heroes" you'd expect. I've always found that way more interesting and compelling than most other regular or conventional type of stories. Here's a list of the ones that I think are some (or in this case, a LOT) of my biggest influences when it comes to the characters that I write, the protagonists that I write where it's unconventional main characters fighting the odds or facing the highest stakes possible or BOTH in incredible situations or scenarios BUT are again NOT the generic "heroes" you'd think or expect them to be:

• Andy Dufrense & Ellis Boyd "Red" Redding — The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

• Paul Edgecomb & John Coffey — The Green Mile (1999)

• John McClane — Die Hard (1988)

• Arthur Morgan — Red Dead Redemption 2

• Mrs. Brisby — The Secret Of NIMH (1982)

• Norman Babcock — ParaNorman

• Frank — Thief (1981)

• Alice Johnson — A Nightmare On Elm Street 4: The Dream Master & A Nightmare On Elm Street 5: The Dream Child

• Miguel Rivera — Coco (2017)

• Eddie Valiant & Roger Rabbit — Who Framed Roger Rabbit

• Marty McFly & Emmett "Doc" Brown — The Back To The Future Trilogy

• Samantha "Charly" Caine — The Long Kiss Goodnight

• Walter "Heisenberg" White — Breaking Bad

• Ezekiel "EZ" Reyes — Mayans MC

• Peter "Spider-Man" Parker — Spider-Man 2 (2004)

• Michael De Santa, Franklin Clinton & Trevor Philips — Grand Theft Auto V

• Niko Bellic — Grand Theft Auto IV

• Jaguar Paw — Apocalypto (2006)

• Jack Sparrow, Will Turner & Elizabeth Swann — The Pirates Of The Caribbean Trilogy

• Poindexter "Fool" Williams, Alice Robeson & Roach — The People Under The Stairs

• Shane Vendrell — The Shield (FX)

• Matt Parkman — Heroes (Season 1)

• Bob & Helen Parr — The Incredibles (2004)

• The Man With No Name & Tuco Benedicto Pacífico Juan María Ramírez — The Dollars Trilogy

• Matt Murdock, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Frank Castle & David "Micro" Lieberman — Marvel Netflix

• Robyn Goodfellowe & Mebh Og MacTire — Wolfwalkers (2020)

• Kevin Garvey — The Leftovers (HBO)

• El Mariachi — The Mexico Trilogy

• John Hartigan, Marv & Dwight McCarthy — Sin City (2005)

• Andrea Grimes — The Walking Dead (Comic Series)

• Kenny McCormick — South Park

• Thaddeus "Rusty" Venture, Malcom "The Monarch" Fitzcarraldo & Gary "Henchmen 21" Fischer — The Venture Bros.

• Gwen Tennyson — Ben 10: Alien Force & Ben 10: Ultimate Alien

• Literally all of the protagonists — Generator Rex

• Virgil Ovid Hawkins/Static Shock & Richard "Richie" Osgood Foley/Gear — Static Shock

• Al "Spawn" Simmons — Todd McFarlane's Spawn (HBO)

• Billy "Shazam!" Batson & Frederick "Freddy" Freeman — SHAZAM! (2019)

• Frank Bannister — The Frighteners

• Ann Darrow — King Kong (2005)

• Sarah Bowman, John "Flyboy" & Bill McDermott — Day Of The Dead (1985)

• Rick O'Connell, Evelyn "Evie" & Jonathan Carnahan — The Mummy (1999)

• U.S. Army Captain Benjamin L. Willard — Apocalypse Now

• Staff Sergeant Mikhail "Mike" Vronsky — The Deer Hunter

• Mikasa Ackerman — Attack On Titan

• Max Rockatansky — Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior

• Sheriff Hassan — Midnight Mass

• Historia Reiss — Attack On Titan (Manga)

• Grey Trace — Upgrade (2018)

• Seth Gecko — From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)

• Cecilia "Cee" Kress — The Invisible Man (2020)

• Private Cooper — Dog Soldiers

• Quintus Dias — Centurion (2010)

• Lucius Vorenus & Titus Pullo — Rome (HBO)

• Seth Bullock & Al Swearengen — Deadwood (HBO)

• Alita — Alita: Battle Angel (2019)

• O.J. Haywood — Nope (2022)

• Puss In Boots & Perrito — Puss In Boots: The Last Wish

• Po — Kung Fu Panda 2

• Bob Belcher — Bob's Burgers

• Atticus Finch — To Kill A Mockingbird

• John Rambo — First Blood

• Bruce Wayne/Batman — Batman (1989)

• Logan/Wolverine — Logan (2017)

• Charlie Shakespeare — Deathwatch (2002)

• Edward Boyce & Lewis Ford — Overlord (2018)

• Solomon Kane — Solomon Kane (2009)

• Alan Wake — Alan Wake (2010)

• Private/Sergeant J.T. "Joker" Davis — Full Metal Jacket

• Lee Everett — Telltale's The Walking Dead (Season 1)

• Bigby Wolf — Telltale's The Wolf Among Us

• Heather Mason — Silent Hill 3

And that's just merely the tip of the iceberg.

#favorite characters

0 notes

pastelbatfandoms · 7 months ago

Text

Stranger Things dr dreams/Memories

3/14/24 It's been awhile, I know I've been focused on other drs. But I think Billy & Eddie miss me because I keep having dreams with them in it that could be memories. Firstly I obviously need to finish reading Eddie's ST book 'Flight of Icarus' because I had a dream that I was in Eddie's motorhome but it was huge! Then Eddie, his BFF Ronnie (who is not in the show) and I were taking these pills that looked like amber, they were performance enhancers but for musicians. Then Eddie layed down on the couch and I watched him, rubbing his head so he didn't fall asleep cause I was worried he would be unconscious. He got irritated at me for "babying" him, and then that manager Paige showed up and he became really happy and bounded up to her. While I just looked at her annoyed "Oh yeah you'll be nice to her." She wanted to talk but I refused saying I needed to be alone. I dislike her for good reason…The rest of the dream was all over the place and not Hawkins related. Though I think we were in California.

Speaking of…I'm pretty sure Mandy and Billy move there or already have because I had another dream where Billy and I lived in this big 2 story house (Think The Gilberts house from TVD) I also met Billy's older brother, pretty sure his name was Dacre lol, he looks like Billy but with wavy (not curly) light blond hair, wearing a leather jacket with a bunch of pins and buttons all over. I can defintly see where Billy gets his style and charm from. He was flirting with me and Billy was getting upset and Jelous. "Get your own girl." Then Billy pulled me into a room still upset, I managed to appease him by making out with him, until Eddie showed up who Dacre apparently knew because he gave him a big hug and said "Hey Eddie My man! how've you been?" They got to talking idr about what but then Eddie glanced upstairs where we were and told Billy's brother he had something to do. He headed upstairs and I'm pretty sure we had a threesome…I'm not sure if that was just me day dreaming though as I was starting to wake up.

3/23/24 Had a short memory of Steve and I sitting on a roof. Drinking, cuddling and watching the stars. Must have been when we were together. Then another one of Billy and I pulling Eddie and Chrissy from the upside down.

4/12/24

I had a memory while asleep of my dr self (Mandy) with Billy, Chrissy, Steve and Eddie. I'm sure it was during S4 and we were either at the Creel mansion or Nancy's house I'm not sure because all I saw was the bannister we were by. It was dark. We were getting ready to leave (I think Nancy and Robin had left already) Billy and Steve were arguing over who was going to drive. Steve snapped "It's my car I'm driving!" Billy shook his head but didn't say anything.

We got into the car, Chrissy first then me then Billy. Billy grinned, "Hey at least I get to be by the girls." Steve didn't look to happy idk why, we're not together anymore, I'm still with Billy. Steve probably still likes me oh well. Anyway I remember putting my hand on Chrissy's leg and Billy putting his hand on mine and giving each other flirty looks. idk where we were headed.

Update: After doing a reading I figured out where we were headed and why Chrissy was there. Since she died, or we thought she did. Turns out she's stuck in the upside down after we thought we lost her, we find out that Chrissy is alive. (after Billy jumps into watergate, he goes first instead of Steve) We help Eddie get her (via his trailer) where he finds her alone. Then we escape. We then drove to either reunite with Hopper or just go to his place. But we still have to face Vecna later on.

Also the conversation that took place between Steve and Eddie actually takes place between Billy and Eddie in my dr. Eddie thanks Bily for helping him and thinks he's metal for what he did to the bat (Billy gets the Ozzy reference) he then talks to Billy about me and that we need to make up. Which makes sense because in our relationship he is very much the peacemaker.

I also take Max's place in the beginning. I watched more episodes hoping to get memories but I got flashes and resonance from my Marvel dr instead lol (Since El's time at Hawkins Lab is similar to mine in Hydra.)

#desired reality #stranger things #reality shifting #dr memories

1 note · View note

slicznymartwy · 1 year ago

Text

pt ii because i love billy too much

“We’ll miss you,” Claire declares, hugging you again while the other girls made sounds of agreement. You are all gathered by the front door, everyone wearing their coats and shoes except for you. You’re in a pair of shorts and a too-big sweatshirt borrowed from a frat brother, and you try not to shiver with the open door letting in the November night chill.

“I’ll miss you girls too. Have lots of fun for me,” you say, squeezing Claire’s waist before letting go.

“If your cramps let up, you should join us later,” Jess says, pouting. For a moment, you could only think about how lucky you were to be in a sorority with such sweet and compassionate ladies.

“No way, you stay right here,” Phyl says sternly. “You can’t go walking by yourself this late, who knows what’ll happen.”

“Maybe she’ll get lucky,” Barb mutters, standing closest to the outside. She seems eager to leave, already past buzzed and ready to drink more. You hated holding up or inconveniencing your older sisters, and you tried to hurry them out.

“I’ll stay here, you girls go and kiss some cute boys for me,” you say, smiling as they giggle amongst themselves, some already having their targets in mind.

With a few more waves and goodbyes, the door is shut and locked and you are alone. Even Claude is nowhere to be found. Mrs. Mac, less surprisingly, is likely out enjoying her own Friday night, knowing that the girls would have their own plans as well. She wouldn’t have guessed that you would stay at home, sick after a dizzying spell of cramps earlier that afternoon.

Suddenly feeling alone, you walk to the kitchen with the self-assigned task of finding a drink to take upstairs to your room. You’re searching in the fridge for the last can of Coke when the phone rings. You sigh heavily.

You tell yourself it could be anybody, closing the fridge and walking to the phone stand by the front door. It could be a brother looking for one of the girls, or maybe a family member with important news. It could even be someone with the wrong number. There are thousands of possibilities of who could be calling this late on a Friday.

It’s just your luck that you wear a strangled wet mewling sound coming from the line.

You close your eyes as you listen, briefly recalling Phyl’s advice before they left.

“If the Moaner calls tonight, just hang up. Don’t torture yourself listening to him,” she had said, fixing her curls in the mirror. She had made a good point; it was pretty uncommon for any of the girls to be completely alone in the house. Who knows if the guy could take advantage of that.

And yet, your hands shook as you continued to hold the receiver up to your ear.

The stranger’s breaths are labored over the handset, turning deeper and more guttural the longer that you don’t respond. You’ve heard your sisters on the phone with him plenty of times to know the usual game they played. The girls would yell at him, call him names and threaten him with the police, and then he would do the same. Except, this threats unnerved them a lot more than theirs did to him.

Alone in the house, you couldn’t find the courage to chew the creep out like the others normally would. Like a coward, you were frozen to the spot, forced to listen to his waning patience.

“Pig,” he finally spits out, the sound so wet that you were sure he was drooling. “Stupid piggy slut.”

“Stop it,” you whisper.

“Pig. Gonna bleed you, pig.” He oinks loudly, and it hurts your ears with how brash it comes over the phone. “Gonna bleed you dry, stupid slut pig. Bloody cunt pig, gonna lick your bloody piggy pussy. Lick it, lick your fat bloody cunt.” He speaks so quickly you can barely comprehend what he’s saying, but it’s so percussive that every consonant hits you like a punch to the stomach. You let yourself lean against the stairway bannister as your legs start to shake. His laughter is high pitched and boylike, and it makes your chest hurt.

“Disgusting pig cunt. Gonna fuck you ‘til my cock turns red with your disgusting piggy blood. Suck my big cock, suck it clean. Suck off your pig cunt blood. Piggy pig cunt,” he says, cutting himself off with more obscene oinks.

Your racing heart only gets worse as your paranoia takes effect. Like a disturbing photograph, your defiled sanitary pad is ingrained in your mind. You tell yourself it’s impossible that the Moaner has anything to do with that, but you can’t believe it. What other explanation could there be?

“Naughty Billy,” he suddenly whispers. “Disgusting naughty Billy. Gonna fuck it. Fuck your bloody piggy cunt, fuck it, fuck it ‘til you bleed.”

“Who is this? How do you know?” you ask, voice shaking with terror.

“Lick you clean. Gonna lick out all your smelly blood. Smells so good, smells like a slaughterhouse. Gonna bleed the pig, slaughter whore house. Take Billy’s fat bloody juicy cock. Suck on it. Suck on it!” He shouted into your ear and you gasped, toes curling in your soft socks.

“Billy,” you say suddenly, surprised by your own voice. Your breath shakes as you inhale, but you need to know. “Was it you? Did you steal my rag?”

“Bloody piggy. Bloody pig cunt. Gonna bleed you. Lick it, lick your bloody pussy. Smells good, bloody pig cunt. Gonna lick it all,” he rambled, grunting and laughing happily as he spoke.

“Was it you, Billy?” you ask again, raising your voice. “Did you steal it?”

“Theif!” he sudden shouts down the line. “Thief! Thief!” He makes a sound like he’s wailing, and it’s all so bizarre and strange that the way your body reflexively clenches could almost he mistaken for arousal. What the hell is going on with you?

“Gonna cum in your eye,” he suddenly growls, deep and low. “Gonna rub my big bloody red cock all over your fat ugly pig face.” He oinks again, dirty and obnoxious. “Billy the thief! I’m not a fucking theif!”

You want to cry suddenly, feeling all lost and turned around even though you’ve hardly moved this entire time. You cover your eyes and take a shuddering breath. He must have heard it, because he laughs deliriously.

“Hump your pillow, rub your blood all over it. Rub your blood on it. Gonna suck it, wanna taste it all. Taste my cum, fat pig. Piggy cunt, bloody cunt. Taste it. Eat my cum. Pig bitch, eat my cum. Cum on your blood. Bitch whore, bloody hole. Cum on your bloody hole.” He laughs as he speaks, giggling like he’s being hilarious. God, this was torture. Why were you listening still? Why can’t you just hang up? Were you honestly wet, or was it just the menstrual blood between your folds?

On your next inhale, your sweatshirt brushed heavily against your nipple, pebbled and aching, and the sensation sends lightening down to your gut. Out of shock and disgust, you slam the receiver back onto the hook and let out broken moan out of relief. It’s over. He can’t bother you if you don’t pick up the phone.

You’re not surprised that the phone rings again after a moment, but it still startles you. You state at it for three rings before you pick it up. A greeting is at the tip of your tongue, but he’s faster.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he whispers, sounding so solemn you think it could be someone else entirely. “I love you.”

“Leave me alone!” you cry out.

“No!” he cries out mockingly, which turns into laughing and shrieking. Again, you slam the phone onto the hook, then take it off immediately. Hearing the dial tone, you know that you’re safe. Your eyes flutter closed, sighing in relief. Ignoring your still hard nipples and the slick mixed with blood between your legs, you go upstairs, not knowing that you were only getting closer to your secret admirer.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

i lov his ramblings he’s so cute

bloody mess

billy lenz x female reader

warning: contains mention of periods and blood, and billy being a pervert as usual

You sigh for the nth time, throwing a blouse over you shoulder as you search deeper in your hamper. It’s been a long day of lectures and labs, and you don’t have the time nor patience to deal with a missing rag. Having come back up unsuccessful, you groan loudly and shift from your knees to your ass. You might as well give your knees a break with how they’re screaming from the wooden floors.

“What’s with the huffing and puffing?” Barb asks from the doorway. You turn to look over your shoulder at her and see her smirking in that pretty way of hers. You sigh again. “Yeah, just like that,” she teases.

“I’m an idiot. I don’t know what I did with other pad. I just threw away my third one last month, and now I lost my 2nd. Lost! Jeez, what’s wrong with me?” you complain, pushing your hair off your face.

“What’s wrong with you is that you’re still using that ugly belt. I’ll get you some of my stickies, you’ll see that they’re far superior by the end of the week,” Barb claimed, turning away and heading to what you assume is the bathroom.

You hurry to stand up, lower abdomen throbbing and twisting uncomfortably after another cramp, but you push through and follow Barb down the hall.

“I dunno, Barb, seems wasteful and awfully expensive,” you say, stopping in the bathroom doorway to look at her as she rummaged under the sink.

“I’m telling you, you’ll see. One week and you’ll be tossing that whole belt in the trash like the rest of us did,” Barb promised. She came closer to you and held the wrapped sanitary napkin between her index and middle finger. She grinned at you as you assessed the little package. “Jesus, it’s not gonna bite you!”

You blush and snatch it out of her hands, but you then feel guilty. Pushing aside your embarrassment in the whole situation, you throw your arms around her in a quick hug, which she reciprocates with a pleasant laugh.

“It’s okay, I know you’re more irritable than usual,” she teased, which you playfully rolled your eyes at. Moving past her into the bathroom, you waited for her to leave and close the door before getting to work.

You remove the belt that held up your sanitary pads and then put your underwear back on, but not before applying the adhesive pad to the gusset of your panties. With your skirt pulled back down, you clean the little bit of blood that got stuck your fingers and gather your things afterwards. Looking in the mirror, you know there’s no way the change in sanitary pads, of all things, would alter anything about the way you looked, but you felt different. Like a new kind of woman, one that your mother would probably turn her nose up at. It was kind of exciting, if you were being honest.

You open the door, clutching the belt and used napkin, and see that Barb was waiting for you. She lets out a cloud of smoke from her cigarette and grins in her girlish way.

“So? You survive?” she asks.

“It got close, but I think I did,” you joke back, feeling in a slightly better mood now that she didn’t have to worry about bleeding through her pad. “Thank you for helping me out. I’ll buy the next box for the house.”

“Anything for my little sister,” she said, putting her free hand around her shoulder and giving her a small hug. “Just don’t go leaving empty boxes for us to get stuck with. There’s nothing worse than running out.”

You nod understandingly, smiling at her easy ribbing. Sudden aware of the fact that you’re still holding onto a bloody rag, you try to hide the rolled up pad more in your hands. You laugh uncomfortably and say, “I gotta get back to my homework. You know how it is.”

“Sure, sure. See you at dinner,” she says, releasing you and traipsing down the hall. You watch her go for a moment, her smoke tail billowing behind her, before leaving in the opposite direction for your room.

You go on auto-pilot once inside, throwing your belt and pad into your hamper and tidying up the mess you made while searching for the last rag. You’re straightening up your bedsheets when you finally notice it. Your bloody rag, still red but mostly oxidized to a deep brown color.

You go completely still as your mind races with reasons as to how it got there. It got stuck in another piece of clothing and landed there by chance, or maybe she put there earlier and just completely forgot about it. Both sound unlikely, no matter how badly she wanted to believe it; you knew your bed was clean when you left.

Looking closer at the pad, you can see that it’s wetter than it was before, and more wrinkled. Actually, it looks positively mangled, which was strange because you always took care of your belongings. Standing right before it, you pick it up by pinching a corner, letting it unfold as it hung in the air.

Unmistakable as the moon in the night sky was a messy white patch, right in the center of the pad. It had streaked across the pad, however it must have gotten messed up and spread around. Your chest is rising and falling with silent panicked breaths as your brain grew stormy, with anxiety and paranoia clouding any rational thought.

With shaking hands, you brought the used pad with you to the hamper, collected the belt and the other pad, and threw it all into the garbage. It would be better to use the disposable ones anyway, you decided. Easier to forget.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

just a really gross thought i had this morning hehe

i’ll probably write a part two bc now i can only think about billy’s pov

#billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #black christmas (1974)#slasher posting #₊*. ⋆༘ — uli writes

99 notes · View notes