#i promise billy isn't that BAD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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What Goes Around, Comes Around

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

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

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

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

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

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

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

"You sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

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

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

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

"I mean - "

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

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

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

"No," Lawrence looked down.

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

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

"No? Why?"

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

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

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

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

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

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

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

"What if their man isn't here?"

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

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

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

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bitch has it coming!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm so sorry."

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

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

"Huh?"

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," he breathed.

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

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

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

"Yeah, that's her."

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

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

"You did tonight."

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

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

"Like you?"

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

"I'm still sorry..."

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

You only sniffled.

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

"Hell happened to you, man?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Billy raced back to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

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

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

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

Then he asked, "When?"

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

"Kid - "

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

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

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

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

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

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

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

"All cops like him?"

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

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

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

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

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Bee?"

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

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

"Huh?"

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

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

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

"Billy."

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

"Bullshit."

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

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

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

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

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

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

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

"William!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, don't - "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We good?" You whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He has one in two weeks."

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

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

"I've always been."

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

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

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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tac-the-unseen · 1 year ago

Text

Slashers getting sick

Michael Myers:

• He's pissed

• How could his body do this to him??

• kinda betrayed ngl

• will refuse medicine

• He's to strong for that 😒

• also it tastes yucky

• your probably gonna have to make him tea with honey if you want to actually help

• coax him into bed with the promise of candy afterward

• that's about all he'll let you do

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

If only stu is sick:

• he will be super clingy

• wants to eat but physically can't

• might just lay in bed crying

• you and Billy sit with him and make sure he sleeps

If only Billy is sick:

• attempts to power through it

• ends up fainting

• you and stu are great care takers

• you two have to dog pile on Billy to make him lay down

If both are sick:

• They kind balance each other out

• Billy wants to get up and move, stu wants to lay down and cuddle

• thank God you have a more than one bathroom

• you have to hide stu's medicine in drinks

• you have to call Billy a chicken to get him to take it

• Both make sad noises until they get what they want

Thomas Hewitt:

• he doesn't get sick often but when he does...oh boy

• this is Texas heat, if any Hewitt is sick you have to but them in the basement

• it's the coldest place in the house

• even then he's gonna have to take off his shirt

• wants chicken and human noodle soup

• he really wants to go up and eat with the family

• it REALLY upsets him that he can't

• please go down stairs and eat with him

Bubba Sawyer:

• tired and sad and doesn't know why

• you have to be the one to figure out he's sick

• he feels weak

• when Bubba gets sick he goes into a depression

• sad babbles as he trys to explain that he has to provide for the family

• he goes to bed when you sternly tell him to go

• you freeze a towel and give it to him

• again he's in Texas

• holding his hand and telling him he'll be better soon helps him trough it

• forehead kisses are ideal for a sick Bubba

Bo Sinclair:

• " Bo you're sick"

• " No I'm not!"

• " go to bed!"

• "No!"

• * almost vomits*

• " ......fine..."

Vincent Sinclair:

• he is one of the only normal ones

• He knows his body's limits and takes care of himself

• He's very grateful that you want to help him

• all he wants you to do is bring him food and cuddle up to him

Lester Sinclair:

• he is the definition of male sickness

• he could cut off his arm and he'll just duct tape it back on

• but as soon as he has a cold he's dying

• looks like a lowly peasant boy asking for bread

• you have to wash him, help him to the bathroom, feed him, all that jazz

• he is forever grateful that he has you

• feels bad that you have to do all that for him though

Billy Lenz:

• if he sneezes he begs you to call in sick at work to take care of him

• "you're fine Billy"

• " No no no no Y/N my tummy hurts."

• " You ate 3 crayons"

Brahms Heelshire:

• cries

• begs for his mom

• He tackles you into cuddling

• he wants grilled cheese and tomato soup

• will fight you if you try and give him medicine

• just put it in the soup and he won't know

Hannibal Lecter:

• he refuses to let you take care of him

• "you'll end up getting sick too."

• Quarantine time

• he does everything himself

• appreciates that you want to help

• lays in bed and reads books

• will give YOU medicine so YOU do t get sick

Thanks for reading <3

You can soooo tell I wrote this two years ago. (P.S. That's why there isn't anything for Will Graham or The Lost Boys.)

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cheynovak · 17 days ago

Text

Cramped and Cranky

Pairing: Y/N (Butcher’s niece) x Soldier Boy (Ben)

Summary: Request: Y/N has more pain during her period after taking tempV. Nothing seems to help. So Ben offers a somewhat alternative solution.

⚠️ warnings⚠️ This story is NOT for everyone. 18+! MDNI! Sex during period, mentioning of blood.

This request is so old I forgot who asked me and I can't seem to find the conversation anymore. It's has been sitting in my drafts for soooo long, I'm glad I finally finished it. I have to be honest, I had no idea how to start this. Please if it's not your cup of tea do NOT read it. I hope the person who requested it finds it 🙈

English isn't my first language.

Please do not copy my work. Sharing, liking and comments are appreciated.

Read warnings before reading this story, this might gross some people out and it's totally ok.

You didn’t sign up for this.

Well, technically, you did. You agreed to help your uncle. Uncle Billy doesn’t ask for much unless it’s everything. And apparently, “everything” now included babysitting rhe most psychotic, narcissistic, 1940s man-child Supe in the country.

Soldier Boy was parked in front of the motel’s TV, flipping through channels like he owned the damn place. You were hunched in the kitchenette, gripping the counter like it might save you from the hellscape that was your uterus.

Temp V hadn’t just messed with your nerves and muscles — it had dialed your cycle up to demonic. You felt like your insides were staging a mutiny with knives.

“You okay?” Annie peeked in, concern knitted between her brows. “You look... pale. Have you tried working out? That sometimes helps.”

You whipped around, eyes flashing. “Working out? I can barely crawl to the bed, Annie. How the hell do you expect me to drag myself to a gym?!”

From the other side of the room, Soldier Boy chuckled low. “Well, there is another kind of workout, sweetcheeks. One where you don’t need to leave he bed."

Your face twisted in confusion — then realization.

You blinked. “Ew. That’s gross.”

Ben just shrugged, eyes still on the TV. “It gives the same endorphins as sports. Besides a little blood never hurt nobody.”

“Again, ew! No!”

“Moisture is moisture,” he replied with a smirk, finally glancing over his shoulder at you. “If you need someone to lend a hand... or anything else, just yell.”

You gave him a withering glare before locking yourself in the bathroom with the loudest door slam you could muster.

The next few days were hell. Pain. Cramps. Nausea. Temp V withdrawal. More cramps. Soldier Boy’s suggestive comments. You’d screamed into a pillow more times than you cared to admit.

But on day four, you cracked.

You stumbled out of the barhroom, sweat-slick and dead-eyed, collapsing next to him on the couch. Your body felt like it had been through war, and even the shitty motel couch felt like heaven.

Ben raised a brow. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” you muttered. “Feel like it too.”

He shifted slightly to make room. “You here to take me up on that offer?”

You snorted weakly, resting your head back. “Only if you promise I'm not gonna to die halfway through.

“Sweetheart, I invented halfway through.”You cracked a tired smile. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Doesn’t have to.”

You shook your head, but you didn’t move. Not yet. You were too tired. Too sore. Too everything.

But for once, he didn’t push. He just turned the volume up and let you rest, the heat of him radiating against your arm.

Maybe, just maybe, this whole “babysitting” thing wasn’t entirely hell. Well not if he kept his mouth shut.

You sat there in silence for a long moment, eyes fixed on the screen but not really watching. Your body was a war zone, every nerve ending firing off like a bad fireworks display. Still, maybe it was the fever haze of pain or the desperation for anything to distract you that made you speak again.

“So... let’s just say someone wanted to... have sex while...” You gestured vaguely at your abdomen, grimacing. “You know. Theoretically, obviously.”

Ben slowly side-eyed you, his brow lifting. He reached forward and turned the volume on the TV down, a small smirk playing at the edge of his mouth.

“Theoretically?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said stiffly, arms crossed over your stomach. “Theoretically.”

“Well,” he started, casual like this was an after-dinner conversation and not completely unhinged. “Theoretically, it all stays the same. Boy meets girl..."

"Yeah I know the bees and birds crap Ben. I mean what about, you know the mess one might make." Ben shrugged. "Could put a towel in bed. Lay on top of that.”

Your expression twisted like he’d just suggested using a white couch. He noticed, of course. “Or,” he added smoothly, “the shower. Clean. No mess. No stains. Everything washes right off.”

You blinked at him. “The shower?”

He leaned back, one arm slung lazily over the couch, looking a little too pleased with himself. “Yeah. Hot water, slick bodies, less of the whole murder cleanup situation.”

You stared at him like he’d just done calculus in front of you. Then, suddenly doubling over with another sharp cramp, you grabbed your stomach and hissed through your teeth.

Ben didn’t move to help, just watched with a tinge of concern—and maybe, annoyingly, amusement. "You know way too much about this,” you groaned.

He shrugged one shoulder, all nonchalance. “A man learns things in seventy years. Some things stick.”

“You’re disgusting.”

He grinned. “And you’re the one asking me how to bang on your period, theoretically.”

You let your head fall back against the cushion, hand still clutching your stomach. “God, I hate that this is somehow the most helpful conversation I’ve had all week.”

Ben reached for the remote again. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents. And for you I'm free of charge."

You snorted. “Yeah, okay. Let me survive this uterus apocalypse first.”

“Take your time, sweetcheeks. I ain’t going anywhere."

---

Later that night, the TV was playing some rerun he wasn’t watching, and the dim lamp by the bedside barely cut through the motel’s perpetual gloom. Ben’s attention flicked from the screen when he noticed you get up slowly, one hand on your lower back, the other cradling your stomach, and shuffle toward the bathroom.

“Need a hand?” he asked, voice light, teasing.

You grunted something that sounded suspiciously like *go to hell* and closed the bathroom door behind you.

Ben didn’t move. Not right away. But he listened.

You stood there for a moment, just breathing, one hand on the sink’s edge, staring at yourself in the mirror.

The cramps hit hard again, a sharp, twisting pain that pulled a whimper straight from your throat before you could stop it. You hated being weak. Hated needing help. But the pain was relentless — and, annoyingly, the stupid Supe lounging out there might be the only one who could distract you from it.

“Ben,” you called out, voice tight and shaky.

There was silence. Then the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.

The door creaked open a few inches. “Yes?” he asked, feigning innocence like he didn’t already know damn well what this was about.

You swallowed, trying to focus on anything other than how flushed your skin felt. “If we do this,” you started carefully, “if we try it, and I don’t like it—”

“We stop,” he finished easily, his voice softer than it had been all night. “Simple.”

You looked at him. Really looked. There was no smirk. No joke. Just heat behind his eyes and something unexpectedly patient.

You nodded once, lips pressed into a line. That was all he needed.

Without a word, he stepped inside and pulled the curtain back."After you."

You should’ve felt awkward dropping your towel. Shy. Something. But as the warm water ran down your skin and Ben stepped in behind you, tall and solid and radiating heat, all you felt was the faintest flutter of something else entirely—something that, for once, wasn’t pain.

“You sure?” he murmured, his voice close against your ear now, steam curling between you.

You took a breath, still clutching the edge of the shower wall for balance.

“No,” you admitted. “But I’m tired of hurting.”

The water poured steadily between you, steam curling around your bodies. Ben’s hands found your hips first — warm, steady, not rushing. You expected something crude, immediate. But instead, his touch was patient. Slow.

His fingers moved deliberately, rubbing small circles along your lower back, then upward between your shoulder blades. The tension in your body was impossible to miss — you were practically locked up, muscles clenched like you were bracing for pain.

“Relax,” he murmured, lips brushing against your ear. “You’re tighter than a damn vice, sweetheart.”

You huffed, half a laugh, half frustration. “Yeah, well... maybe if you hurried up I wouldn't think about it too much. ”

Ben chuckled, the sound low and rough against your neck. “That’s not how this works,” he said, planting soft kisses against your damp skin, trailing down the curve of your shoulder. “If you don’t ease up, it won’t help. Your body would just be fighting me the whole time.”

You exhaled, long and slow, eyes fluttering shut. His mouth, his hands — they were still gentle, still coaxing instead of taking. It was disarming in a way you hadn’t expected from him.

You didn’t even notice you were leaning into him until you felt his chest against your back, solid and warm, anchoring you.

Then his hand moved lower. Fingertips brushing between your thighs, slow, testing, teasing. You stiffened instinctively and your hand shot down, grabbing his wrist.

“Relax,” he said again, softer this time, voice more coaxing than before. “I got you.” You held your breath for a beat. Then you let go. And just like that, the pain didn’t feel so loud anymore and you focussed on his touch.

When Ben felt you were ready — really ready — his hand gently guided your hip, turning you toward the tiled wall. His voice dropped, commanding but low, not cruel, just... certain.

“Bend over,” he murmured. “Hands on the wall.”

Your body hesitated. Just for a second. Because this — this — was Soldier Boy. And this moment wasn’t supposed to be this vulnerable. Not with him. But his touch was steady, patient. His warmth surrounded you.

You did as he asked.

The first moment he pressed against you, it was strange — not painful, not intense, just... surreal. The kind of moment you never imagined you’d live through. You braced yourself, heart hammering — and then he started to move.

Slow. Careful. Gentle in a way you didn’t think Ben even had in him. And for some reason you need to feel more of him. Gradually you moved to stand up straighter, wanting to feel his chest against your back while he dipped in and out slowly.

“Good girl,” he murmured against your neck, one hand steady on your waist, the other tracing light, grounding circles along your breast. “You’re doin’ so good. Just breathe. Relax.”

The words. His voice. They did something.

You started to move without thinking, syncing with the rhythm he set — gentle, measured, built more around soothing than pleasure, though somehow, it gave you both. Every time his hips met yours, another layer of pain peeled away, like your body was finally letting go.

“Ben,” you breathed, barely a whisper. He kissed the side of your neck, still cooing in that low, reverent voice. “I got you, sweet girl. I’m right here.”

And for the first time in days, you believed it.

You weren’t just easing the ache in your body — you were finally letting yourself feel something other than pain. You moved for him. Grinding against him. Guided by the sound of his voice and the heat he left on your skin.

And for once, in the middle of a shitty motel bathroom with a literal war relic whispering soft praise into your ear, you forgot the pain.

And then — he shifted just slightly, angle changing, and hit that spot that made you see stars. You cried out, a broken, breathless sound that echoed off the tiled walls, sharp but laced with something sweeter. Relief. Release.

Ben stilled for half a second, then his voice came low, rough, but tinged with a little smugness. “That it?” he asked against your ear, lips brushing skin.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes, yes… oh god, yes.” It came out like a prayer, desperate and grateful all at once.

He adjusted his grip on your hips, grounding you with strong hands as he started to move faster — not rough, but with intent. Purpose. Each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until your thoughts scattered like ash.

Your hands slipped a little against the wall, knees weakening with every stroke. And then you were gone — falling over the edge with a shuddering gasp, hips stuttering as pleasure rolled through you like a wave.

Ben followed right after, a sharp grunt of breath at your shoulder. He pulled out fast, just in time, one hand guiding himself down as he spilled into the tub with a low groan, keeping his other hand steady next to yours on the wall.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Just the sound of the water and your shaky breaths filled the space. You turned your head slightly, blinking back at him with your lips parted, legs still trembling beneath you.

He caught the look and softened — just barely — leaning in to press a kiss to your damp, overheated forehead.

“Take your time,” he murmured, voice gentle now. You nodded, still catching your breath, your fingers gripping the wall for one last moment of stability.

And for the first time in days, your body didn’t feel like a battleground.

The moment you walked out the bathroom you noticed the bed was semi made and a glass of wine on the nightstand. Ben was watching the tv but got up to guid you to the bed.

Instead of telling him to leave you alone, like you would have any other time, you held his arm will sliding into the bed. "I... I eh.." He smiled, a genuine soft smile and nodded, climbing in begin me.

You lay there in the quiet, wrapped in Ben’s warmth, his hand still gently moving over your belly. The pain had dulled to a low hum now, manageable, distant — and your mind had space to think again.

Maybe too much space.

“…Why’d you do that?” you asked, voice soft against the hush of the room. He didn’t answer right away. His thumb kept drawing slow, absent-minded circles.

“My ex,” you added after a moment, “he would’ve never. Not when I was… like this.” Ben scoffed under his breath — not at you, but at the idea of the guy.

You turned slightly, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder

“Why would you?” you asked. “Why not be grossed out or weird about it like every other guy?”

Ben’s hand stilled for a second before he pulled back just enough so you could fully turn and face him. He was propped slightly on one elbow now, looking down at you, serious — maybe more serious than you’d ever seen him.

“Real men don’t give a damn if you’re shaved, if it’s that time of the month, or any of that bullshit,” he said, voice low, firm. “Your bodies? They’re incredible. You carry life. You bleed, you break, you keep going anyway.”

He touched your face, knuckles brushing your cheek.

“If a man can’t handle that — can’t respect it? Then he’s not a man. He’s a coward. And he sure as hell doesn’t deserve you, sweetcheeks.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how much weight his words carried — like he wasn’t just saying them to soothe you, but because he believed them.

Your fingers found the side of his chest, holding him there. You stared up into his eyes, the space between you almost buzzing with something new — something real.

Ben held your gaze, then leaned in, kissing you softer this time. Slower. And before you could even process it, he shifted, gently moving you onto your back, his body pressing against yours with care.

You felt him, hard and ready, But he didn't act on it — no rush, no teasing. Just heat and connection. Eye to eye. It was different now. He was different.

Or maybe it was you who saw felt something else for him. Something... deeper. More intimate. There was no pain this time. No tension. Just the soft sound of your breathing the quiet rhythm you fell into together.

Your fingers curled into his shoulder. He kissed you again. His forehead rested against yours, both of you quiet in the soft glow of the motel lamp, tangled together in the after heat.

You didn't move. You didn’t want to. You loved the weight the feeling of him close.

His hand brushed your side again, thumb stroking light, lazy patterns over your skin. There was something almost... reverent in the way he touched you now. Like he knew exactly how fragile this moment was, and didn’t want to be the one to break it.

You exhaled slowly.

“You’re not what I expected,” you said into the silence. He huffed, a soft laugh vibrating against your ribs. “You never took your time to get to know me.”

You glanced up at him, and he was already looking at you. That stupid cocky glint wasn’t there this time — just quiet intensity. “Still think I’m disgusting?” he asked with a half-smirk.

You smiled, lips quirking. “Maybe. But you’re disgustingly sweet, which might be worse.” He chuckled again and leaned down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “Don’t go spreading that around.”

You were about to reply when — *bang*. The motel door slammed open. Ben didn't flinched, groaning like a man who already knew what was coming.

You scrambled to yank the sheet up as a very furious, very loud voice filled the room.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?!” Butcher stood in the doorway, eyes wide, face a redder shade of fury you didn’t know humans could turn.

“Uncle,” you said flatly, heart pounding. Ben didn’t move an inch from where he lay with you, one arm still slung across your waist. The other holding his weight above your head.

“Billy.” He said in his grumpy soldier boy voice.

Butcher’s gaze flicked between the both of you — you, flushed and half-buried in sheets; Ben, looking smug and completely unapologetic.

His eye twitched. “You were supposed to babysit him,” he snapped at you. "You told me to watch him." You shrugged. “Technically, I still am.”

Ben smirked. “She did a thorough job.”

“Jesus Christ,” Butcher muttered, already turning to walk out, probably to punch a wall or throw something. “I’m gonna be sick.” The door slammed again, leaving the two of you in stunned, awkward silence.

Then you burst out laughing. Ben looked amused seeing you feel so good but most importantly without pain. "So," he said. "How about a movie and wine?"

You kissed his lips and whispered "Sounds perfect." Ben draped himself behind you facing the tv. He kissed your ear and whispered. "Just yell whenever it starts to hurt again. I place a few towels in bed."

You elbowed him and joked. "you’re disgusting".

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn @cevansbaby-dove

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #soldier boy #the boys #smut #soldierboy #the boys fanfic

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starguardianniom · 5 months ago

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Asaba Harumasa canon facts

Like I promised here's my post about stuff I learned about Harumasa from Section 6, curtesy of Yanagi, I swear her conversations and trust events are gonna be more about her coworkers than herself and honestly I am fine with that as long as I get more info on Harumasa, and she happily delivered.

For starters, whatever Harumasa drinks is very bitter, Soukaku learned the hard way.

OH MY GOSH!!! That's so troll even for him. HAHAHAHA!!! On the other hand it means Harumasa isn't even 30 years old yet, and if he means it took 3 years off that means he also probably is under 27 years old... Good to know.

Well duh of course she would.

Oh wow, Harumasa took half an hour to calm Soukaku down from his bad joke and had to swear several times that he would live to 3 digits until she calmed down. Dawwww, even he apologizes when going too far and does his best to make it up to Soukaku, such a big brother energy, a trolling one but also he still cares.

Summed up very well by Yanagi. Harumasa is a really good person even if he slacks off and tease people a lot. Though I guess the " but still..." at the end says that she would wish he would stop teasing Soukaku like that probably. But I love my lazy troll regardless. <3

Fact number 2 about Harumasa, he's apparently the only one who can sing well among section 6, so he's the one send when they do karaokés with section 5. No really.

Apparently Section 6 and 5 don't get along too well if Harumasa's joke about them having a bone to pick with them in Virtual Revenge is any indication, and to remedy that their bosses have both sections have karaoké events sometimes. Interesting~

Does that means Miyabi only sings old songs that nobody knows? And Soukaku sings songs from her tribe, nice. Too bad they aren't on the playlists.

Understatement, her singing is horrible, even Elfy wasn't impressed.

You mean you had Harumasa sings at every karaoke events while the rest of you were cheering for him or something, for real? He is probably fed up of being the only reliable person in the group for this kind of thing, makes me wonder if section 5 are good singers. But i would love to hear Harumasa sing. <3

So yeah so far those are little facts about Harumasa from Section 6, to all Harumasa fans out there on this site, I'll keep you updated about info about him, I plan to pull for him and Miyabi. Wish me luck! And now because I can and I will I will do like Harumasa and call Yanagi Tsukishiro from now on only.

I will now make posts about both Billy and Harumasa from now on, you are warned. These boys are everything to me and I'll tell you all about them and dragging you all down with me in their fanclubs. <3

Bonus (feat Miyabi fact) :

Here's what I got when choosing Miyabi's coffee drinking habits:

Dang, that's a terrifying superpower. Miyabi is a monster (affectionate).

Same here.

Ok and?

For realsies?

Don't laugh you broke her. Dang. It's called achievment in ignorance, you can do it as long as you don't know about it, but the moment you learn about it you suddently can't do it anymore.

#asaba harumasa #zzz harumasa #zzz asaba harumasa #harumasa zzz #zzz #zenless zone zero #section 6 #zzz section 6 #tsukishiro yanagi #zzz yanagi #hoshimi miyabi #zzz miyabi #hoshimi miyabi zzz #soukaku #zzz soukaku

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pinkslipxox · 3 months ago

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Hey! I have a goofy one for you. Bilie x reader. Reader is on her period, and her emotions are all over the place, and one thing you need to know is that she can sometimes get a bit emotional while on her period. Billie says something silly that upsets the reader making her cry. And of course billie didn't mean to at all. She felt so bad for making her girl upset, she's feels a little stupid because she completely forgot how sensitive the reader became while on her period. But billie makes up for it by giving reader plenty of cuddles and kisses but not without reader refusing them at first being stubborn 🥹

hey my love! Ugh yes ofc! Hope you like it 🥰❤️

——————————————————————————

You're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, your body curled into a tight ball. The cramps hit harder this month, and despite your best efforts to hide it, the discomfort creeps into your mood. You can feel the tears welling up, and it isn't long before you start to feel overwhelmed by a wave of emotion that seems to come out of nowhere.

Billie enters the room, her hair cascading around her shoulders, a gentle smile on her lips as she carries a mug of steaming tea. She notices the frown etched on your face, and immediately her brows furrow with concern.

“Hey, pretty girl,” she calls softly, her voice like a balm against the chaos in your head. “What’s going on?”

You sigh deeply, trying to muster a smile for her. “Just cramps,” you whisper, your voice small.

In true Billie fashion, she tries to lighten the mood. “You know what they say about periods?” she begins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “They’re just your body’s way of saying, ‘I’m not pregnant!’”

You can’t help but chuckle at her classic dry humor, but the laughter is short-lived. As you try to hold back a snort, a wave of emotion crashes over you, and you suddenly feel the well of tears spilling over. You don’t even understand why you’re feeling this way, but the laughter only amplifies the ache in your chest.

Billie’s playful demeanor drops in an instant; her heart sinks as she sees the tears streaming down your face. “Oh no, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she rushes over, dropping the mug on the table and wrapping her arms around you. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s okay,” you mumble through your tears, sniffling. “It wasn’t you. I just… it’s just a lot right now.”

She cradles you tighter, her fingers gently brushing back your hair. “You’re so strong, mama. I know this time of month can be really tough. Just let it all out; I’m here for you.”

You feel her soft kisses peppering your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids. Each one is full of love, full of understanding, and slowly the warmth of her affection begins to soothe you. You giggle shyly, even as tears mix with laughter. “Billie, stop it! You’re too sweet.”

“I can’t help it,” she replies, her voice teasing yet tender. “I just want to make you smile.”

Pulling back slightly, she holds your face in her hands, looking deep into your eyes. “You’re beautiful, even when you’re feeling like this. I love you, Y/N.”

You see the sincerity in her eyes, and your heart swells with affection. “I love you too, Billie.”

“Okay, how about we binge-watch that show you love? I’ll grab some snacks and keep you cozy,” she says cheerfully, getting up to fetch the remote.

As she moves, you feel lighter, the dark clouds of your emotions slowly parting with each passing moment. When she returns and settles you against her side, enveloped in her warmth, you relax fully.

Billie nudges you playfully. “And next time I’ll save my jokes for another time, promise.”

You snuggle deeper into her embrace, her gentle fingers tracing patterns on your back, melting the last bits of tension away. In this little cocoon of comfort, you know you’ll be okay. With Billie by your side, you feel safe, cherished, and loved.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish x y/n

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spacecowboyy0 · 2 months ago

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denying the father allegations pt.1/3

summary: butcher babysits little!reader

notes: swearing because it's butcher so duhh, i imagine them in their base in season 2, not necessarily a littles are know universe but the characters are already aware of agere

words: ~1k

a/n: hey everyone! february and march are the most disgusting months ever for me, so i've just been focusing on getting through each day. i'm on season three of the boys and i'm obsessed with butcherrrrr he's so father!!

“I’m not a fucking babysitter.” Butcher grumbled into his phone.

“I know Butcher but my meeting is at a strip club and I’d rather not bring them with me.” Jamie's voice crackles over the call.

“Just leave ‘em alone, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“I-” Jamie sighs, “just please.”

“Yeah alright, send them over.” Billy agrees.

“Jamie please!” Your friend moves your hand that’s gripping his jacket to hold onto Butcher’s coat.

“Don’t worry pup, this big guy will keep you safe, you remember Butcher don’t you?” You do remember Billy, so you guess it can’t be that bad. You huff.

Jamie hands you your plushy and leans in close to Billy, whispering so you don’t hear. “If you lose their stuffie, I’ll make sure you lose all your fingers, and you can deal with a crying toddler too.”

Billy just smiles back smugly. “They’re gonna come back to you without any scratches and that otter snug in their arms, I can promise you that.”

Jamie rolls his eyes and then turns back to you. “Alright sorry kid, I gotta go, don’t get into any trouble.” You watch as he walks up the stairs and Butcher waits to speak until the door is closed.

“You’re not getting into trouble if you’re already in the company of trouble.” He winks at you.

You settle into a chair beside M.M, watching as he works on his dollhouse. You recognize the team from the odd jobs you have done for them in the past, so you aren’t super uncomfortable, but it obviously isn't the nicest place to be in either. You perk up when you hear Frenchie speak from across the room.

“Boss, the meeting’s been moved up to 3.” He looks at Butcher.

“Alright boys let's go, I guess you’re coming with us.” Butcher tells you and when you look at him with concern he’s quick to reassure you. “It’ll be quick hm? And you’ll stay in the van with Frenchie, all safe and sound.”

You let Butcher lead you out of the building and into the van, feeling oddly safe under his care. You’re not the most trusting in general, especially with the kind of work you do, but when you’re little you tend to be good at finding the right people to trust.

You grip your otter tightly during the bumpy drive, unsure of what was about to happen. If Jamie trusts Butcher then you don’t have to worry, you decide. Thankfully, it’s a quick drive before the vehicle comes to a stop and the door is sliding open. Hughie hands out some technology to everyone except you and Frenchie, and it’s a flurry of activity without any explanation. Context wouldn’t be much use for your little brain, you suppose.

“Alright love, you sit your ass right here and don’t move alright? Frenchie’ll snitch if you do.” Butcher tells you. You look at Frenchie warily but he shakes his head slightly which makes you giggle. “See? You’ll be just fine.” Butcher reaffirms.

For about 10 minutes you’re alone with Frenchie in the van, watching as he sets up the equipment and monitors the computer. Naturally you get bored. Holding your otter in one hand, you use your other hand to fidget with random things on the floor. You’re not quite sure what they are but they’re fun to play with.

A hand slowly comes into your sight and pulls the item from your hand.

“That isn’t good for little hands, so how about this?” Frenchie hands you a blue wire, and you take it. It keeps you satisfied, and you twist it as you wait in a comfortable silence.

One by one, the rest of the crew filters back into the van after they’ve done their jobs.

Everyone watches the cameras, keeping an eye on the top right one, which monitors the room where the meeting is being held. It’s a musty room with a circular wooden table in the middle, and men sit around it. Things start to escalate with more yelling and then suddenly it all goes to shit. One chair is thrown and then guns are out. One lanky guy brings out a long sword, and starts swinging it around.

“He looks kinda like you Hughie.” M.M remarks with a laugh and the others snicker too. Hughie just rolls his eyes but smiles too. Everyone’s faces drop when the guy starts hacking at the others. Butcher puts a hand over your eyes so you don’t see, what you assume to be, a brutal mess.

“Don’t need to see that much, dove.” You plug your ears too, as now you’re more aware of the disgusting sounds that are being picked up as well. You zone out after that, even after Butcher lets you see again. You go into your own world, pretending it’s your otter who’s on the adventure.

When Jamie comes to pick you up you’re telling Butcher all about your otter’s adventure and all the information she learned.

“And and she sawed that the guys didn’t have ‘nough guy so they’re hiring more, so she’ll be a spy ‘n join their team.” Billy nods along as you tell the story. It’s not very coherent but he makes an effort to listen.

“Hey bug, did you have a good time?” Jamie asks and you rush over to him. He picks you up and you rest your head against him.

“Mhm,” you mumble against his sweater. Butcher walks over to the two of you and hands Jamie your stuffie.

“Alright, say thanks to Butcher.” He prompts, and bounces you encouragingly.

You lean over to Billy and press a messy kiss to his cheek. “Thanks,” you slur, and hide into Jamie once again. Jamie’s surprised at the display of affection but smirks when he sees Butcher’s eyes widen slightly.

The team watches with matching smiles as well. Butcher catches them out of the corner of his eye.

“Fuck off.”

#little!reader #sfw agere #little reader #agere fic #cg!billy butcher #cg!butcher #the boys #the boys agere #william butcher

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lexirosewrites · 3 months ago

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Mafia au pt 2

So I'm on break right now at work so please bare with me

Moriah Harrington is not happy that she got the vacation homes, several cars and a large pay out after Richard died. She wanted it all, but his will said that his first born would inherit his business. She kept waiting to have kids because she was younger than him and still had time but look what waiting got her. A bunch of bullshit. Now some young omega brat bastard is going to be running the whole thing and she'll have nothing.

I'm not sure what role I gave Eddie but he is changed to being Richards personal assistant and now Steve's personal assistant. If I had him as a secretary or something else before ignore that, thanks!

Eddie is actually in the office with Steve when he discovers paperwork showing Richard hiding money from the group/"family". Eddie is surprised that Steve found the documents because that is what he had been looking for for so long. With this evidence they would have been able to kick Richard out and appoint a new leader but now he's dead.

Steve and Eddie continue to look at all of Richards documents and they show everything, eventually Eddie notices that Steve is leaning heavily against the wall even with his crutch so he grabs a chair for Steve to sit in, Steve gets a bit flustered and gently grabs Eddie's wrist as he sits down and thanks him.

Eddie acts casual and like everything is fine, that it wasn't a big deal but Steve is so pretty and has soft hands and seems so gentle that Eddie's inner alpha starts growling that they'll have to protect the sweet omega.

Steve is given some time off of school to deal with his loss and figure out what he's going to be doing with Richard's business. Everyone in the family knows that Steve actually is Richards thanks to the DNA test and all have different motivations for trying to get close to him.

Enter alpha hitman Billy Hargrove. He's so cool and suave that Moriah called him whenever Richard wasn't cutting it in bed and gifted him shit constantly. It should be so easy to fluster the young omega and mate with him so that way he can lead the family.

He waltzes right into the main office flirting past the secretary and holds out his hand introducing himself to Steve. Eddie gets out of his seat to help Steve stand because he was having a bad pain day. The two shake hands but Billy turns Steve's hand over and kisses the back of it with a wink and sits in Eddie's vacated seat.

Steve seems charmed and stammers asking how he can help Billy. Billy says how he was away on business when the funeral happened and didn't know about Richard's passing until he got back so he was just there to offer Steve his condolences personally as well as handing over his business card and promises Steve can call him anytime.

Steve takes the card and hides behind it giggling and thanks Billy for such a sweet offer.

Billy leaves and throws one more wink for the road. Eddie turns around from locking the door and hears Steve let out a big scoff. He's startled and turns around to find Steve super annoyed looking. He drops Billy's business card into the trash and rubs hand sanitizer onto his hands and Eddie can faintly hear him grumbling about stupid boneheaded knot headed alphas.

Steve snaps at Eddie how most alphas see him and think he's so fucking easy because he's an omega, a handicapped omega at that. He should be so lucky that they wanted to give him their time and attention. Steve rolls his eyes and scoffs again and looks up at Eddie "can you fucking believe that!?"

Eddie is blown away at how hot he still finds Steve even while ranting about annoying alphas. Eddie apologizes to Steve about how he's been treated in the past.

Steve waves him off, Eddie is a great alpha so he wasn't part of the problem, plus Steve shows Eddie the evidence of Moriah and Billy's affair and shows how he isn't dumb, he knows Billy wasn't really there for him.

Eddie isn't surprised to find evidence of the affair it was a poorly hidden secret after all the only thing is, the evidence wasn't found by Richards usual private investigator like Steve claims it was.

I'll leave it there for now I'm not sure if slick Sunday is happening tomorrow or not but I wanted to get this to you as I start planning up part three :D

(link to part one)

can’t wait for part three!💛

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks

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hellfirecvnt · 11 months ago

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Hallelujah, What a Payday

Baby Billy Freeman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Baby Billy's on the search for his next co-star.

Warnings: Sex with that weird, old man (at the very end.) Religious trauma but with zero detail at all. If I refer to anything as "nonsense" or whatever, that's not about any religion and is only about the silly Gemstone activities.

Notes: Tiffany just doesn't exist here. I love her too much to write that she got left or something. This should've been two parts, but I promised we were gonna fuck him, so. We're also gonna ignore the Baby Billy body-double pp they show in the first episode. Don't even fucking act like that dastardly old man isn't packing.

"Five minutes, Y/N!" The angry stage manager screams backstage. You perfect your lipstick in the mirror and stand to straighten up your ensemble. You sing a few nights a week at a local lounge/venue for extra money. You're a local hit and it pays the bills.

Across the entire building, a man pays his way inside, tired after days of wasted effort. He sighs as he takes a seat, alone in a VIP booth. They're not cheap, but even if he hadn't sat there, anyone can tell he has money just from the way he dresses.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight's entertainment." A smooth voice vibrates over the intercom. You gracefully file out onto the small stage, illuminated well by a single spotlight amongst the mood lighting throughout the lounge. The tired man taps a finger on his table, watching with boredom as he waits for his drink to arrive.

"I'm all out of hope. One more bad dream could bring a fall..." Your voice rings through the air like honey sweetens tea. The lone man at the VIP booth nearly gives himself whiplash with the rate at which he turns to face the source of the illustrious talent. You continue to sing your cover, and slowly he begins to recognize the song.

Your eyes meet his, as you do at every show to engage with the audience.

"It's easy to deceive. It's easy to tease," you slide your hands down your sides, swaying back and forth sensually for this verse. "But hard to get release."

The pianist serves as backup vocals, delivering the iconic lyrics: "Les yeux sans visage."

"Eyes without a face; got no human grace. You're eyes without a face." Your vocals swell and the man stares at you, inspired. His mouth hangs agape with a hopeful smile.

After you finish your set of five songs, you take a small bow and excuse yourself to the bar. The well-dressed man all but trips over himself as he scrambles to meet you over there.

"Double vodka cran, please, Henry." You tell the bartender and he nods, starting your order.

"That's some voice you got there, darlin'." The man appears next to you, smiling a large, white, evangelical grin.

"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Well, I more than enjoyed it. You got yourself a gift, now." The man extends his hand. "I'm Baby Billy."

"Baby?" You look at him, perplexed. He explains his backstory a little, insisting you should at least know who his sister is.

"You ain't never heard of Aimee-Leigh Gemstone?"

"Of course I have, I just don't listen to a lot of gospel." You shrug, truthfully hoping the conversation could end there.

"Well, darlin', do you ever sing gospel?" His eyes twinkle in the dimly lit bar area.

"I don't think that'd fare well for me here. This place looks fancy, it's costly to get in, but it's just a bar at the end of the day. No one wants to be preached to." You take a sip of your drink and he watches you closely, noting the pout of your lips as you press them to the glass.

"No, not here. Here." He lies a pamphlet out in front of you, sliding it closer along the bar. "I'm the head preacher at the new church in Locust Grove. Opens in a month."

"A man of God, huh?" You mumble as you skim over the pamphlet. "Does this gig pay?"

"God never asked us to exploit our talents for free." Baby Billy grins. You look him up and down. He's a walking red flag, but it's clear he's got money and as a broke woman on your own, you can never have enough.

"I'm free on weekends. I'll adjust my availability when I know you're serious." You say, stone-faced. Baby Billy hands you his card, passing it smoothly between his index and middle finger. You take it and stand from the bar, walking away, and disappearing into the green room to prepare for another set in an hour. He watches you, still sporting a wide smile as you stand. His eyebrows twitch in short-lived confusion. He pushes all that aside, only one thing matters now. He has his co-star.

Friday afternoon rolls around and Baby Billy attends your show, beaming at you from his expensive, empty VIP booth. He's practically got dollar signs for pupils.

"Friday is a weekday, Billy." You call over your shoulder as you excuse yourself to the bar.

"Baby Billy," he corrects, clinging to his childhood fame with all he has. "It's a brand, now. And who said I'm here for work? Can't a man just enjoy the show?" He follows you to the bar, taking a seat next to you.

"Well, did you enjoy it?" You turn to him with an amused smile. "The show?"

"It was even better the second time around."

"Thank you, Baby Billy," you say, with a knowing emphasis on 'baby.' "I guess I'll be calling you tomorrow, then."

"I'll be ready when you are, darlin'." He smiles warmly and you begin to wonder if you'll ever see him without that goofy, toothy grin stretched across his face.

Saturday morning, you're up, bright and early. You think nothing of the process of getting ready, throwing on a T-shirt and jeans along with various accessories you only get to wear on your days off, so you take every chance.

"This ain't a repeat of that... Lost soul you brought in last time, is it?" Eli settles back in his seat. He's sitting in one of the thousands of seats in the Gemstone Auditorium along with his three children, Judy, Jesse, and Kelvin. Baby Billy stands before them.

"No, damn, Eli. She's perfect for the job. She's got the face, she's got the voice, and most importantly, she's got stage presence." Baby Billy makes a grand case, convincing the Gemstone family that he's found an angel on Earth. Which is why it's all the more shocking when you walk in looking like an entirely different person than the woman he met at the lounge.

Everyone falls silent, they turn to face you as you walk through the door. The second you come into clear view, Judy Gemstone does a poor job of stifling a hateful chortle. Baby Billy meets you halfway, keeping you off to the side before you're front and center in front of everyone.

"The fuck you look like that for?" He asks with a peculiar sense of genuine confusion/ curiosity.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think it'd be a dress rehearsal." You narrow your eyes, placing a hand on your hip.

"When you called me this morning I thought I made it clear what kind of... Environment you might find yourself in." He waves his hands around as he says this.

"Is this an audition or did you scout me out?" You ask with a smirk, looking him up and down.

"Well, hear me out, now. Because if it were up to me, you're hired. But you need to hop up on there and prove to these assholes that I know what I'm doing."

"Playing dress up costs extra," You whisper. Without leaving time for him to respond, you walk ahead of him and confidently offer a handshake to Eli. The two of you become acquainted and he welcomes you to the stage.

As you step out onto the grand platform, it's awkwardly empty. You find yourself almost nervous, which is out of character for you. You've been performing since you were young.

"What am I singing for you today, Dr. Gemstone?" You ask, sensing a little bit of decorum could go a long way here.

"Looks like she's about to start blasting Rob fuckin' Zombie," Jesse, the oldest Gemstone son, quips under his breath. You narrow your eyes at him, clocking his appearance on the spot.

"I think I know what you wanna hear," you smile politely, pointing directly at Jesse. After a quick speed walk to the sound tech, you queue up the track for the song you've chosen. The music starts, and the two youngest Gemstone siblings burst into laughter. Even Eli chuckles.

"Hello, Darlin'. Nice to see you," you start. "It's been a long time, you're just as lovely as you used to be." The joke about Jesse's appearance quickly fizzles away as the Gemstones take in your voice. Baby Billy stands off to the side, gauging their reaction, absolutely elated.

"I told you he was trying to be Conway fuckin' Twitty," Judy whispers to Kelvin.

"Come back Darlin'. I'll be waiting for you..." You finish your song and take an unserious bow. You secure the job, and Eli even commends Baby Billy for finding you. After researching the Gemstones a little bit the night before, you quickly begin to realize how much money you could potentially make here.

"That was fantastic! That old fucker didn't think I could do it," Baby Billy gushes.

"And what did you do, just now?" You side-eye him.

"I found a star." He emphasizes his words with his hands. He's a charismatic and handsome man even given his older age.

"What's next? I'm sure this next month will be pretty busy with rehearsals." You laugh, already contemplating quitting your recurring lounge gig.

"Well, sure. We'll put in the work and all, but," he looks at you expectantly.

"What?" You ask, but he only gestures with his hand as if you should've caught on by now. "Oh, Baby Billy. I don't know if I'll be attending church tomorrow. I'm um, not a Christian."

"Huh," he says, dryly. You scrunch your nose, awaiting an uncomfortable lecture. "You work in this industry for so long, you forget some people aren't religious." He shrugs and you feel a sense of relief.

"I'm not busy today. Care to show me around the Locust Grove church? It's nice to know what I'm going into." He holds the door for you as you step out into the bright parking lot.

"I'd love nothing more." He grins.

At the Locust Grove location, you're wowed by the remodeled mall-turned-megachurch. He gives you the grand tour, specifying that you'd have your own area to get ready before each service.

"This is... A lot," you laugh.

"You're about to make it much more, darlin'." He ushers you up to the stage with him. "Let's give it a go, see how we sound together."

"What song are you thinking?"

"You don't know any gospel?" He peeks over his glasses at you.

"Not really," you shrug. "Well, I know Angel Band and I know Down to The River to Pray from that movie I like."

"Good fuckin' God." He sighs. "Down to The River." He counts off and starts the first verse. His voice is southern, crisp, and clear. You quickly decide in your head what fashion of singing would best compliment his. The chorus approaches and you ready your breath.

"Oh, sisters, let's go down. Let's go down, come on down," your voices melt together pleasingly. You can tell by the look on his face that he likes what he hears. The song ends for the two of you after that first chorus, that's all he needed to hear.

"It's about time something worked out for ol' Baby Billy," he shakes his head. "Now, the next matter to discuss is... Wardrobe."

"Yeah, I figured 'sunday best' would cut it, right?"

"Well, not quite." He leads you to a room past the storage area full of broken, useless mannequins. He walks up to a large armoire and pulls it open. Inside is one dress. It's wrapped in a layer of protective plastic that's done wonders to preserve it. It's campy and dated, though you can tell it was high dollar fashion for its time.

"Baby Billy, I'm not wearing this." You look at him, as if hoping he'll tell you he's joking.

"What? Why not? Now that was Aimee-Leigh's favorite dress," he glances back and forth from you and the dress.

"Okay and it's beautiful, but it looks like it's a hundred years old." You look at the striking piece of clothing again. "This is helpful, though. If this is the kind of look you wanna go for, I think I can make it work."

The two of you spend the rest of your time in the unopened church getting acquainted. You find him charming and entertaining. He finds you beautiful and unintentionally hilarious. You make him laugh often. It's like his own personal ray of sunshine on his shoulder.

It's late when you head to leave. You hardly noticed how long you'd been there. As you open the door to the dark parking lot, you turn to bid Baby Billy goodbye.

"Well, hold on, now, darlin'. Let me walk you to your car." He follows you out the door and to your vehicle. You roll the window down to thank him for the job, pulling your seatbelt over your head.

"I'll see you...?" You wait for him to tell you what day he plans to start practice.

"Monday afternoon, if you can make it." He places a hand on the roof of your car. "Now, listen. I know you ain't the religious type-"

"I will see you Monday, Baby Billy." You interrupt before he has the chance to invite you to church tomorrow. He shrugs, waving to you as you drive off.

That night, as you shower, you wonder if you were too rude with your rejection of his invitation. After all, you grew up going to church. Certainly not a mega church, but a church regardless. It's not a chapter of your youth and adolescence that you hold dear, hence your inclination to stay away from it all.

You set an alarm and wake up early Sunday morning... To get ready for church. You take this outing as a chance to demonstrate to Baby Billy and all the Gemstones that while your personal style may not mesh with their vibe, you've always had a way of blending in.

You put on a white dress with statement sleeves. Something to play off of the whole "voice of an angel" shtick. After perfecting the rest of the look, you leave with a satisfied smile.

You walk through the large double doors to the "Gemstone Worship Center" and look around. It's needlessly gigantic and overwhelming to take in.

"Y/N, is that you, darlin'?" Baby Billy's voice grounds you back on Earth. You turn to face him and he raises his eyebrows, shocked by your range of appearances. "Don't you look pretty this morning?" He grins, admiring your pearly glow in the white garment. He's elated to see you there. Not because he thinks you need church, but because he wanted to see you.

He introduces you to a few colleagues, and even Eli Gemstone reintroduces himself, shocked to learn you're the same woman from yesterday.

"Who is this with you today?" A tall, bald man with a thick African accent asks with a warm smile.

"Now, this is my girl, Y/N," Baby Billy gestures to you like a grand prize. Something about the title "his girl" makes your stomach flip, and you're not sure how you feel about that. "She'll be performing with me at Locust Grove."

The theatrical, pretentious service is long, loud, and feels uncomfortable the entire time, so it's hard to keep your mind and eye from wandering to anything else. Often, you glance at Baby Billy. He's brought you to his seats in the front area, so it's hard to drown the music out entirely, but everything does seem to muffle when you're staring down the white-haired enigma of a man before you.

After service, Baby Billy invites you to join the family at a restaurant called Jason's. You're hesitant at first, but Eli insists. When you arrive, the Gemstones are escorted to a level above the restaurant to a private section for their own VIP dining experience. It's frivolous to you, but it's nice to do something different for once.

After church lunch, the entire group congregates in the parking lot, saying their goodbyes and making promises to see each other next week. You smile politely, though a bit awkward, as you don't really know anyone besides Baby Billy.

"Nice get up, Rob Zombie." Judy Gemstone appears beside you, seemingly complimenting you, but she's just as confused as you are.

"Thank you, Judy. I just wanted to show that I know how to fit into a crowd."

"Yeah, well. You're not so bad, up there, on stage." Her tone sounds like she's accosting you, but her words sound genuine. As if she's not sure how to... Just be nice without intimidation tactics. "Singer to singer, don't let Uncle Baby Billy ride your coattails too hard." She struts off, linking arms with her husband and loading up into their lavish vehicles.

You feel a sense of comfort now, knowing Judy is just like that. It's nice to know you have another woman in the mix that you can look to as an acquaintance. Slowly, but surely, you find yourself melding into the atmosphere that follows people like Baby Billy around. You begin to feel more comfortable around the rest of the church leaders, though you realize rather quickly that there isn't much talk about God. It's nice.

As the weeks go by, you meet up with Baby Billy for practice every day. It's not the schedule you meant to give him, you just find yourself wanting to see him more and more. You delight in the strange way he talks and his charming mannerisms. You also think it's really funny when something goes wrong and he's suddenly not grandpa sunshine anymore, and he's kicking a speaker calling it a dick.

As the rehearsal window comes to a close, you and your co-star are inseparably close. On more than one occasion, one of you has slipped up and gotten a little too comfortable.

"Baby Billy, why does the mirror say something about washing my hands keeping me safe from Satan?" You ask, returning from the restrooms.

"That was song lyrics from back in mine and Aimee-Leigh's day," he laughs.

"Well, how do clean hands keep me safe in the eyes of the Lord?" You furrow your brow, in disbelief that anyone could believe this. Baby Billy is tinkering with the stage lights as they two of you converse.

"Well," he says, still messing with the light. "Just like those hands can commit sins, they can be washed clean by his mercy." He chuckles as if he already knows he's going to overstep. "Those look like sinner hands to me, darlin'." He winks.

"Sinner hands?"

"Ain't you ever done anything with those hands? Something the Lord might not smile upon?" He continues with his back to you, finally flicking on the light after his adjustments. Your face is hot and red with the realization of what he meant.

"Oh, yeah. I guess so." You shrug. Baby Billy turns to face you, taking a few steps closer. He's a good deal taller than you, so his lanky frame looms over you in a way that makes your stomach flip. He's barely a foot away, smiling down at you.

"You guess so," he repeats, tilting his head and grinning, letting the silence thicken for a moment. You give up on trying to fight back the blush in your cheeks, there is no way around it.

"Well, I guess let's get back to it," you clap your hands once in front of you as if to break up this moment and you take your position. Baby Billy just laughs and leaves you with a lingering confusion. The rest of the day, you can't seem to keep your head clear. A flip has switched and you find yourself lusting after this televangelist old man.

The two of you wrap up rehearsals for the day, but instead of leaving, you linger behind a little longer. You're unsure if it's nerves telling you to practice more, or if it's just you wanting to be around him.

"Next week is opening day," Baby Billy grins. The excitement is clear on his face with that brilliant, big smile. He takes a seat next to you and you both face the large, beautifully lit and decorated stage.

"That fast, huh?" You chuckle, trying to laugh away the knot in your throat so you don't have to swallow it.

"You're gonna be great up there," he says, catching you off guard. He seems to have mistaken your unexpected attraction as pre-show nerves. "Right next to ol' Baby Billy Freeman. This is a big break for you."

"Oh, it is?" You laugh.

"Look, I'm serious, now. The right ears hear us and we're signed and touring," he snaps his fingers. "Like that!"

"You sure you could handle being on the road with me? I'm kind of a diva," you joke. "If I don't get my beauty sleep, I look like a dead bug and I'll hit someone." Baby Billy bursts into laughter.

"I don't think a lack of sleep or even a semi-truck could deter what you've got goin', sweetheart."

"What do you mean?" You ask through a laugh.

"You're a looker, darlin'. You walk into a room and draw everybody's eye." His hands are animated as he speaks.

"Oh, yes. Flattery will get you everywhere," you laugh, lightly shoving his arm playfully.

"I mean it, now. You the prettiest girl I know." He shrugs.

"You're not so bad yourself." You smirk, leaning closer to him than you realized. He notices the closing gap and can't help himself, he leans toward you as well. Time seems to slow down just for a moment as you two share this closeness.

He glances at your lips, and then back up to your eyes. Your heart begins to race before the sudden, loud crash of the stage light Baby Billy messed with hitting the stage with great weight. You both sit up, startled by the sound, jumping away from the close quarters you'd just been in.

"Oh, uh," you regain your grip, realizing what poor business practice has just nearly taken place. You've fucked your boss before. You know it doesn't end well... "I should get going."

You stand and readjust your skirt, smiling nervously as you start toward the door. Baby Billy stands too, hopelessly searching for his next sentence, but for the first time in his life, he seems unable to find the words.

"Same time tomorrow, darlin'," he calls out to you as you step out the door. He takes a step over to the stage, sitting down and exhaling a big breath. What an old fool he'd have to be to think you'd want anything to do with him when you're so young-spirited and beautiful? Will that stop him? No. It won't.

The last few days leading up to the grand opening are full of those small, close encounters. One day, you tripped during dance practice and practically landed in his arms. You two locked eyes and it would've been done for right then if a janitor hadn't walked through the stage door. Another time, you were high up on a ladder, making Baby Billy hold it steady out of fear. The entire time you're above him in your dress rehearsal skirt, he can't seem to fight the perverted urge to glance up. When he does, he nearly loses his bearings. His face ignites red and he can't help but smile ear to ear.

It's no secret to either of you that some kind of tension has been brewing. Even the Gemstone siblings share a look of confusion when they see you two forget anyone else is in the room. Neither of you seems to notice how long your eye will linger on the other.

The Sunday of the Church's debut sneaks up on you after the last few days of having nothing but Baby Billy on the brain. You're less nervous about performing and more nervous about seeing him again. It's as if every time you two come together, the palpable tension in the air becomes thicker. You're certain you'll lose the ability to breathe the air around you if it gets any worse.

"You ready to make some magic, darlin'?" An excited Baby Billy startles you as he intrusively enters your dressing room.

"My God, don't you knock? I could've been naked," you laugh, perfecting your makeup in the mirror.

"I don't think you'd hear any protest from me, sweetheart." He winks and makes a quick getaway. To be honest, he wasn't quite meaning to say that part out loud. You're left red-faced and pleasantly shocked. The comments between the two of you have been growing more bold by the day, but that one takes the cake... So far.

You get dressed in your opening night outfit. It's a bit different than the one you wore to rehearsals. It's nicer, fancier, flashier, without all the dated glitz of Aimee-Leigh's 80's-esque dress that Baby Billy attempted to lend you.

It hadn't occurred to you that Baby Billy hadn't seen this outfit of yours. But his beaming, smiling face when the two of you step out in front of the crowd from opposite ends of the stage gives you a needed stroke of your ego. He holds an arm out to you, inviting you to his side as he introduces you and himself. It was established early in the arrangement that he'd do most of the talking, so you put on your best "quiet and pretty" act. You clap when the crowd claps, and you throw your hands up in "praise" when it seems appropriate.

Anyone who'd met you before this performance is genuinely confused by who they're watching right now. They expected you to give a hell of a singing show, they didn't expect you to play the full part so well. As you told them, you know how to blend in. The surge of energy that comes with any performance this in-depth carries you throughout the whole service.

With each song you sing, with or without Baby Billy, you cannot stop yourself from looking at him, over and over. Fuck the tension, something is building up inside of you and the adrenaline of the stage is only making it worse, for both of you.

Baby Billy bids the crowd farewell and you give a gentle wave as the two of you exit the stage, arm in pining arm. The very second the stage exit door closes behind you, muffling the sounds of the cheering and dispersing crowd, you and Baby Billy fall still, silent, and stare at each other for barely one breathless second and then your lips are on his. You both stumble for a moment before he steadies you, pressing you up against the nearest wall.

"God damn, Y/N," he whispers between hungry kisses. You pull away for just a second, just enough time to ask a question.

"My dressing room or yours?" Baby Billy answers that inquiry by reconnecting his lips to yours and guiding your intertwined bodies to his dressing room. It's the closest. The two of you stumble through the door and straight to the lengthy couch meant to make the room look more glamorous. He lies you back on the cushions and his two careful hands begin to wander.

"Darlin, you look incredible in this get-up," he huffs. "But I can't wait till I get it off of you." He quickly unfastens the buttons of your blouse and groans roughly just at the sight of your lacey bra-clad breasts. Soft, breathy moans escape your lips over and over as he gropes at you and grinds against you. "Now, you don't mind where this is goin', do ya?"

"No, shut up," you chuckle, pulling his mouth back to yours. Your hands rake through his hair and find their way down to his expensive, flashy belt buckle. He sits back on the couch, legs hanging off with his Italian leather shoes resting on the floor. He spreads his knees and you take your position between them. You're breathless with excitement as you free his erection from his slacks. The moment you wrap a hand around his shaft, you feel him still growing harder in your hand.

"God damn it," he sighs, tossing his head back against the couch. He wraps one hand in your hair, guiding your lips toward the head of his cock. "Come on, now. Don't make me beg for it." You chuckle at his eagerness, but you do as he says, wrapping your lips around his tip. Baby Billy sighs with relief as you slowly welcome him into your mouth. He gasps as you press your nose to his waist, taking his full length in your throat.

You bob your head up and down, still riding an adrenaline high that's enough to power through even the worst of neck cramps. He calls out small exclamations and whispers sensual praise, all of which makes the heat between your thighs burn hotter.

His moans become more and more vocal until he roughly pulls your head away, jerking you by the hair. You gasp at the pain, but it only fuels your fire.

"Get on up here, now. Let an ol' man get his kicks," he quips, helping you out of the floor before you take your place, lying before him on the couch. He buries his face in your neck, kissing away up and down your flesh as he continues undressing you. He unfastens the rest of the buttons on your blouse, slipping a hand under your bra and squeezing your breast eagerly.

"Come on, don't make me beg for it," you mimic his words, sliding your skirt up your legs, and exposing your panties. They're wet with arousal and he grins at the sight.

"I might just like to hear a pretty young thing like you beg to get fucked by the pastor." He grins deviously, pressing a gentle hand to your clit over the panties. "All this for me?" He chuckles, basking in the effect he has on you. After what feels like ages of teasing and edging, he slips the drenched underwear from your legs. The white-haired man stares in awe at your throbbing core, extending a hand to play with you.

He slips one digit inside you, earning a filthy, needy moan from your chest. Your mouth hangs agape with a gasp as he pumps his finger in and out of you, staring deeply into your shining eyes. He shakes his head, amused by his power over you and also in disbelief at the position he's in at this moment. Just a month ago you were a stranger with a beautiful voice on a stage he'd never taken a second look at. Since then, you've been the object of all his desires. How could he ever imagine you'd feel the same?

"Oh, my God! Please," you whine, arching your back as he fingers you. He chuckles, unsure how he's holding himself back. It must be how much he's enjoying the show.

"Shhh," he whispers, adding another finger. Guttural moans of heated pleasure pour from your lips like a waterfall. He eats up every second of it.

"You're doin' real good, now, darlin'." He positions his twitching erection at your aching entrance, playing with your arousal with the head of his cock. "Keep being good for me," he says as he slips himself inside. A long, needy cry escapes you as he slowly sinks to his hilt.

You stare up at him, locking eyes as his mouth hangs slightly open. He's breathless as your tightness squeezes him just right.

"Aw, damn, sweetheart," he groans, pulling back only to quickly slide back in. "You're somethin' else." He grunts and moans as he thrusts in and out of you, hastily picking up his pace. For an older man, he's incredibly virile. He fucks you for what feels like hours but is surely only a handful of steamy minutes. You squirm and whine beneath him as he steadily guides you to your climax.

"I- I'm-" you try to speak, but it's too late, he's fucking you into oblivion, riding out your high with a bright white, goofy smile on his face. He loves watching your face contort as you soak him with your orgasm.

"I hope you ain't done yet, sweetheart," he chuckles, sliding out of you. "Flip on over, now, darlin'. Let me get a look at that perfect ass you got." His praise ignites a wave of goosebumps across your skin. You do as he says, turning over and assuming a position on all fours, presenting yourself to him perfectly. He releases a breathy laugh, slapping both hands down on each ass cheek.

Baby Billy tightens his grip on your glutes and fervently tugs at you until you're lined up with his swollen cock. He slips inside you again, thrusting away at maximum pace. Your ass jiggles as he slams into you and he's hypnotized by the sight. His goofy grin has fallen to a serious expression as he chases his climax. He mumbles curse words and praise under his breath while pressing your back downward to amplify your arch.

"God damn, just look at you," he huffs, coming closer and closer to completion. "Whatever you want, Y/N, just say the word," he grunts between heavy breaths. "And it's yours, darlin'." You laugh at the way he offers you the world just from how good he feels inside you. It's a high compliment.

"B- Ba-!" You attempt to beg for mercy, but he's quick to cut you off.

"Shh, shh, now, sweetheart. Just... A little more," he groans, quickening his thrusts as he ends his sentence. He slams into you impossibly hard, incredibly fast, with both hands hooked around your waist. You release sensual cries of pleasure as he chases and finally catches his climax.

He withdraws from you, breathless and sweating. A string of lusty moans drips from his lips as he strokes himself until he finishes all over your ass. He stutters out a grunt before collapsing back on the couch. You're breathless, fucked out with your face buried in the cushion. The two of you fall silent for a moment as you catch your breath.

"Baby Billy?" You break the silence.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"Could you pass me, um, a towel?"

"Oh!" He scrambles to his feet, tucking away his softening length. His unfastened belt jingles as he makes his way across his dressing room and grabs a towel from the neat, little stack of hand towels. "Allow me," he whispers, still catching his breath, as he wipes your skin clean, allowing you to comfortably collapse as well. He joins you on the couch, buckling his belt and straightening up his suit.

"That was... Amazing..." You sigh, somehow a little shocked at how well he just fucked you.

"It certainly was, Y/N. It certainly was." He lies back on the couch, allowing his eyes to fall shut. A hand reaches up to fix his disheveled hair. "Let's get them drawers back on you, now. We're late for Church Lunch."

You regain your composure and fix your clothes, sliding your panties back up under your skirt. After fixing your hair and your smudged makeup, you're ready to head to Jason's. You and Baby Billy arrive a few minutes after everyone else, and you take your seats next to each other. The table seems to grow quiet when you two join.

"Don't everybody start talkin' at once, now." Baby Billy looks up and down to both ends of the table. "What'd we miss?"

"From the sound of it, you didn't miss anything, Uncle Baby Billy," Judy scoffs. Baby Billy gives you a knowing look, grinning at you sweetly.

"No, Judy, I did not." He beams, proudly, placing an arm around your shoulder and planting a kiss on the side of your forehead.

•••••

Taglist: @justme12200 //

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