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bookshelf-dust · 2 years ago

Text

when it's rainin'

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 2,666 ;)

warnings: swearing, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, kinda newly established relationship, a few sexual innuendos, fluff

a/n: hi! this was very self-indulgent for me and i am decidedly dedicating this fic to all of my fellow thunderstorm fearers. i see you. i am you. i hope this isn't too bad. i revised it too many times and i'm still feeling a little fretful over it. also, the title is a fleetwood mac lyric. bite me. anyways, please let me know what you think! mwah mwah i love you <333

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“Billy, I gotta get going.”

You squeeze the fat of his thigh where it’s draped over both of your legs. He takes hold of your wrist; his grip gentle, if not a little teasing.

He turns to look at you, head lolling against the back of the couch. His hair is pushed up messily behind him on the cushion. You know that if he were to sit up, it’d be matted in the way that it gets when he lays on it for too long.

Billy knows the cogs in your brain are at work. The beginnings of a cocky smirk play at the corners of his mouth. He furrows his brow, faux concern written all across his face, as if something’s wrong.

“But it’s rainin’, baby.” He gives his head a little shake, like he can’t believe you’d leave in weather like this.

His smirk is in full bloom when he laces his fingers with yours and lifts your hand up to his mouth. You turn to look out the window and feel him press a kiss to your knuckles.

He’s buttering you up and you know it.

“It’s just rain, Hargrove. And I do know how to drive.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the rain picks up, enough so that you can hear it pounding against the roof.

Billy laughs, low and sweet. You glare at him.

“Fine. I’ll wait it out.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, peeling his leg off of yours and repositioning himself on the couch. He leans up against the arm, and holds his own out to you. You know what he’s doing, so you oblige.

Billy loves to watch storms, and holding you this way makes for a better view out the window. You lean into him, back pressed to his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and buries his face in your neck.

There’s a crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder that follows seems to shake the earth itself. Your stomach drops. This is exactly what you hadn’t wanted to happen, and now you’re stuck here, with Billy, internally panicking over a thunderstorm. Admittedly, you do feel a bit safer than you would alone in your bedroom, but this fear isn’t exactly something you share with others.

“You can’t drive home in that,” he argues.

You grab hold of Billy’s forearms, his skin warm under your palms. “I said I’d wait it out,” you mumble.

He kisses the side of your throat, and it’s the kind of kiss you might feel lingering there for the rest of the day. Like his lips have left a searing brand against your skin.

“You could just stay,” he drawls.

“Billy.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh and moves his face back from you. “Yeah, I know. You don’t love me.”

You let yourself slide further down the couch until your head rests on Billy’s tummy. He doesn’t let go of you though, hands rubbing over your collarbones. “That’s not fair.”

It thunders then, at a volume you couldn’t have expected. It rattles both you and the windows, making you jump.

“You okay?” Billy’s tone is sincere.

You sit back up a little bit, and he uses the leverage to pull you into him. He wraps his arms around you completely, enveloping you in warmth and the scent of his body wash. The gesture is protective. He can see the way you glance out the window, and he thinks you might be looking for that flash, that queue for another rumble.

“‘M fine. Scared me is all.”

Your grip on Billy’s knee says otherwise. He thinks he understands.

“I’ve never been with you during a storm before. You don’t like ‘em?”

You glance back at him. The concern on his face is genuine this time, but you can still see that underlying tendency to tease, like he’s ready to use it when he feels necessary.

“Rain is fine,” you start. “I love it, actually. It’s just when it gets like this, when you can’t see down the driveway anymore and it’s windy. I really don’t like the wind.”

It is pretty damn windy. Billy hadn’t noticed it until you pointed it out. It makes him glad he parked under the carport today, knowing this is the kind of storm that leaves a mess behind.

You’re starting to panic, not only because you’ve just told Billy about your childish fear, but also because you don’t know what kind of weather they’re calling for. You live in Indiana, for fucks sake. You don’t like that all of this is out of your control, that there’s nothing you can do but wait it out.

“Hey, look at me.” Billy says, voice low and enticing. It pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. Your fingers are cold where they press into his legs. You twist around to face him and his hands meet your cheeks. His eyes are boring into yours.

He kisses you. It’s slow, measured. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and demands your full attention.

You realize too late that it’s a distraction. You don’t jump when it thunders this time.

Billy pulls away, pleased with the blissed out look on your face. With the fact that he’s seemingly calmed you down for the moment.

“That sweatshirt you like is on my bed. Why don’t you go get it, huh?”

You nod and he steadies you when you climb off of him and the couch. Billy wants to look at the weather, but he also wants to take care of you. He’s not letting you drive home tonight.

You slip down the hall and Billy uses the time to flip the channel, assuming the weather will be on.

You find his sweatshirt where he told you it’d be and stop at the foot of his bed, pulling it on over your head. It smells like him. Not like his cologne or cigarettes, but like the Billy who took a shower and got cold, who fell asleep earlier than usual and slept in more clothes than he ever has—this sweatshirt included.

You see the lightning this time and are able to brace yourself for the thunderclap that follows. You still scramble back to the living room, seeking refuge in Billy.

Your footsteps are quiet despite your panic, and Billy only notices you’ve entered the room because he’d sat up firmly against the back of the couch. You’re chewing on your lip, staring at the warnings flying across the screen. “What’d it say?”

Billy turns the tv off. “Nothing bad baby, promise.” He holds out his hands and scoots to the edge of his seat, pulling you to stand in between his legs. He closes them against your own, gently trapping you there. “Just that it was gonna be stormy the rest of the night.”

Your brow furrows. “It’s not gonna let up?”

“Doesn’t look like it.” This time you catch the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. Clearly he’s happy with himself and the weather.

Billy’s always loved these kinds of storms, and he hates that you don’t, but if he can get rain and his baby to spend the night all in one go? He’ll be pretty damn content.

You realize that you should’ve watched the weather report this morning, but it seems that when you know you’ll be spending time with Billy, he’s the only thing that occupies your brain.

“Dammit,” you say.

Billy squeezes at your hips, and it makes you look down at him. There’s a pout on his face: the crease between his brows deepening, his bottom lip jutting out just that little bit. He squeezes harder now that he’s got your attention.

“Something wrong with staying here? You really wanna go home that bad?”

Billy’s teasing and you know it. You know that he’d let you go if you actually wanted to, that he’d worry until you got home and called him to say you were okay. You also know that he wants you to stay, and you’ve known that since you got to his place and saw the relief on his face. Hell, he hasn’t stopped touching you since then either. He’s plenty needy today.

You cup his face with your hands, swipe your thumb over the smattering of freckles under his eye. His fingers have made their way under the hem of your (his) shirt and are pressing into your skin.

“I didn’t say that. I just told my parents that I wouldn’t be home too late.”

“So call and say you’re staying the night, that you don’t want to drive home in this weather.”

You decide then that maybe you don’t need to overthink this so much. That maybe you shouldn’t let your brain ruin what could be a nice night.

“Okay.”

Billy blinks up at you.

You move away from him and then you’re picking up the phone from its place on the wall, punching in your home number.

Billy can’t believe that worked. You never listen to him. And clearly you recognize this given that you’re hiding a grin with the back of your hand as you talk. The phone call is over quickly, and when you walk back over to him, Billy pulls you down into his lap. Your fingers find their way into his hair before you can even think about it.

“Have I behaved better than I thought?” Billy asks, tentatively rubbing up and down your thighs.

You grin at him and place a kiss on his cheek. It’s warmer than it should be, because somehow you’ve managed to fluster him.

“You keep giving me your pitiful little looks, Billy.”

He scoffs. “No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, pretty boy.”

He blushes. Goddamnit, Billy thinks. You can read him much too easily now. He’s really fucked.

Billy exhales. “I’ve wanted you to stay the night for weeks. But you always had to be home or somethin’. And the storm seems to be working in my favor tonight, y’know?” He gives you this look then, his eyes traveling across your face, down your neck and back up. He bats his lashes at you and you slap him on the shoulder.

He acts as though he’s appalled, grabbing you by the waist and maneuvering you off of him and onto the couch. Billy braces himself against the cushions and hovers over top of you. “Now that was just rude.”

“You deserved it,” you bite back, leaning up to swipe the tip of your tongue across the end of his nose. “Hate it when you flirt with me.”

Billy rolls his eyes and lets his weight drop down on top of you, causing you to voice an audible oof.

He props himself up on his elbows, face inches from yours. “Mhm. Hate it when your boyfriend flirts with you. I believe it.”

You start to say something, something he knows will be a smartass remark, so Billy presses his lips to yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You make a noise of surprise and Billy starts to laugh against your mouth, a low chuckle that makes you want to both keep kissing him and shove him on the floor.

Billy pulls away to press kisses to both of your cheeks and the center of your throat. You’re lost in his affection when it thunders again, making you jolt underneath him. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek. “Hey. S’okay.”

You start to nod when the lights flicker, and you swear your heart falls out of your ass. Please don’t let the power go out, you think. He can read the panic on your face.

“Okay,” Billy grunts, pushing himself to stand. “New plan.”

You sit up, and Billy quickly hooks one arm around your back, the other under your thighs. He hoists you up and over his shoulder, making you squeal with how swift the action is. But you don’t protest, and only hope that he won’t drop you on the way to his next destination.

Billy sets you down on his bed.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, running your hands down your face. You realize too quickly the opening you’ve given him.

He leans in to kiss your forehead, though he pulls away and lets his mouth linger over the shell of your ear.

“You can ride anytime you want, baby.”

You fall back onto his mattress. “Billy, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

You hold back a groan at his antics. “I really should’ve gone home.”

Billy laughs and lands a playful smack to the side of your thigh before moving towards his dresser.

You push up on your elbows to watch him sort through his clothes. He grabs a couple things and brings them to you before pulling his own shirt off over his head.

“Why are you stripping?” You question, looking over the shirt and shorts he’d handed you.

“If you think that’s stripping, clearly I haven’t been good enough to you,” Billy snorts.

You grin up at him. “Are these for me?” you ask, holding onto the bundle of fabric in your hands.

“Mhm. For you to sleep in.”

You nod hesitantly, having just seen a flash outside of Billy’s window. This time the rumble is just that, not a clap, not enough to rattle the windows in their frames.

Billy moves towards his door, with the promise of getting more blankets, allowing you a moment to change. He comes back with water for you, too.

He kicks the door closed behind him, internally melting at the sight of you in his clothes. You’re so pretty, it physically hurts him. He’s never felt that way in his life.

Billy gets you to drink some for him before you’re scooting further into his bed and he’s kicking off his sweats.

You watch him move around the room, the way the muscles of his back move as he’s shutting blinds and pulling makeshift curtains closed. He turns off the overhead light, leaving only that coming from the lamps he has.

You’re in awe of how easy it is for him to take care of you. How he didn’t pester you for being afraid of the storm but instead has comforted you and seems dedicated to keeping you safe.

Billy finally slips into bed beside you. “What are we doing?” you ask, eyeing his torso while he settles in. He pretends not to notice.

“I’m protecting you from the big bad storm, baby.” He kisses your hairline.

You smile at him, one of pure joy that starts slow and grows brilliantly. The both of you are bundled up like it’s some big sleepover, or like you’ve stayed up hiding a book beneath the sheets.

“Well, I’m not sleepy. So what’d you wanna do? Tell secrets?”

Billy props his head up, palm cradling the base of his skull, elbow squishing his pillow. He laughs and squeezes at your hip.

“Trivia? Talk about boys?” you continue.

He shakes his head, his smile matching yours and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Sometimes he can’t believe he landed you. “You got a boy you wanna talk about?”

You snort. “Mhm. There’s one I like. He’s pretty but super grumpy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.”

“I think trivia might be better since you’re just going to bully me.”

Billy flops down on his back. You push up so you can hover over him.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Billy rolls his eyes but kisses you again, pulling your face down to meet his, mouth warm against yours. The next round of thunder is louder than the last and your heart rate picks up, but with him here it feels okay.

It’s hard not to feel safe when he takes such good care of you, when he’s warm enough that everything feels protected, like you could weather any storm with him and his smart ass mouth.

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please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson (for being such a gem and helping me)

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