#Billy oneshot

[cosmic-glow]

+18!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Notes: While returning from a party, you are apprehensive about the unknown car that follows you, little knowing that you knew the driver very well.

Warnings: Billy x fem!reader; dom!Billy x sub!reader; bad language; persecution; slap; NSFW.

The Halloween party at your friend's house had gone really well, her parents would probably kill her if they found out that she had thrown a party the night while they were away but you didn't really care about that right now, all you could focus on was the fact that it was cold and there were still more than 500 meters to go before you got home and your feet were already hurting. You could have called your parents and asked for a ride, but then they would have found out that you ran away in the middle of the night to go to a party.

The hot air coming out of your mouth formed white smoke in front of you. The road was silent and poorly lit, with each step you felt even more that you had made a bad choice, but the feeling got worse when you heard an approaching car start to slow down behind you. You looked over your shoulder, the car window was dark and didn't let you see who was behind the wheel, you didn't know anyone who had that model of car, much less recognized the license plate. You quickly looked at your watch, it was approaching 3 am. You cursed yourself as you quickened your pace, "stupid, stupid, stupid...".

The part of the road that passed through the long trees of the forest was left behind, now all that was around you was smooth pasture, if you tried to escape it wouldn't be too difficult for the car to follow you. Fear made you feel even colder, crossing your arms tighter against your body, managing to reach the knife hidden in your jacket... As if it would be very useful against a car, which was following at a very reduced speed behind you.

Looking surreptitiously around, your eyes fell on a house on some farm. You had no idea who the family that lived there was, but it was your best option, you would pretend it was your house and wait for the crazy person to leave, maybe knock on the door and ask the residents to call the police. The only problem was that the house was on the opposite side of the road from you, you would need to pass the car.

Waiting for the right moment, you gathered courage and hurriedly turned to cross in front of the car, taking advantage of the distance you managed to take. But the red car moved forward and stopped a few centimeters away from you, honking and shining a high beam in your eyes that forced you to close them and look the other way. When the light went down, you stared at the windshield trying to see someone, but it was useless. The driver's side window rolled down, a hand came out and gestured a long "no" with index finger before pointing forward, telling you to go straight. “Shit,” you thought, an icy shiver running through your body as something told you that whoever was on the other side of the steering wheel knew damn well where you lived.

Still in shock, you turned forward and went straight again, the farm behind you and your heart starting to rise up in your mouth. You analyzed the options you had, the blood that ran through your veins becoming cold with the fear that grew inside you. There was a small forest before arriving at your house, you remembered, you could hide among the trees, it was your last chance to lose that person.

The walk continued as before, the headlights of the car right behind you following you as you went, stretching your lonely shadow in front of you. Adrenaline began to heat up your body as approached the trees. When you were close enough to run, you went without thinking twice. The car engine roared behind you, the high beams illuminating everything in front of you, when were about to flee the car passed you like lightning, the tires sang with the curve it made to block your path, marking the asphalt, smoke rising and mixing with the night air. You froze, watching your last chance slip through your fingers.

Your heart began to beat even harder against your chest when the driver's door opened, on the other side, wild blonde hair with its back to you, when the figure approached, turning around and raising his head to look at you, you became even more confused, the man smiled at you when he saw the terror on your face.

- Were you trying to kill yourself, doll? - Billy said with a smug smile.

- What the fuck was that, Hargrove?!!

You and Billy had hooked up a few times, he was an asshole, but you couldn't deny that he had something that moved you, he could make you feel like no other boy had ever done before, and you hated him for it, that's why you two has nothing serious, but it seemed like every day that passed, the more he pursued you. The boy walked up to you, standing close enough for you to smell the strong scent of his perfume.

- You know I don't like you calling me that - he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him - But you know what I like even less? Seeing my girl in another guy's arms.

- What?

- If you continue pretending it will be worse, I saw you and Harrington at the party, you seemed to be having fun - the smile disappeared from his face.

It was true, Steve was drunk enough to shamelessly flirt with you today, he didn't leave you the whole party, not caring who was watching. But you didn't know Billy was there, you didn't even imagine that your friend had invited him, she probably didn't, Billy never needed an invitation to go somewhere.

- And what are you going to do if I say I was really having fun? - you crossed your arms.

Billy's jaw tensed, jealousy burning in his eyes, a strange smile forming on his lips, he clenched his fist at his side, controlling the urge to hold you against his body.

- Then I'll have to remind you of everything I make you feel - he leaned down to your ear - everything that only I make you feel.

In one quick movement, Billy reached down and grabbed your waist with one arm, easily throwing you over his shoulder while holding your thighs firmly with his other arm. You struggled and screamed for him to put you down, but all you got in return was a slap on your ass that burned along with the desire that was beginning to emerge between your legs, knowing where it would lead.

- Quiet - he said as he took you to the car.

You don't know how he managed to throw you in the back seat of the car without even giving you the chance to escape, when you sat down, the smell of a new car along with the smell of Billy's perfume and cigarettes invading your nose, the boy was in the doorway, hunched over and looking at you with a mischievous smile.

- Would my beautiful girl prefer me to fuck her in the car or in bed?

Your heart started pounding against your chest again, but now for another reason: anxiety. Without realizing it you bit your lip remembering how Billy could take you to heights, remembering the impetuous pace he always maintained you pressed one thigh against the other, already feeling how wet you were getting. Oh, God, you could hate Billy with all your might, but how you wished his hands were on your body.

- Where you think I will learn my lesson best - you finally replied, making his smile widen.

- That's my girl.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar;

Masterlist

#billy hargove x reader #billy x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy x fem!reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfic #billy fanfic #billy x you #billy oneshot #billy drabble #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove drabble #billy imagine #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things oneshot #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #st fanfic #st x reader #st oneshot

[writethrough]

I Know Better

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Warnings: Language, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1396

A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.

I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  

This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.

And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.

I hope you enjoy!

Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me

"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 

Billy Hargrove never scared you. 

Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 

You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 

You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 

Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 

He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 

You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 

It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 

You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 

You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 

Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 

In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 

You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 

“Wanna say that again?” 

Your brows pulled in confusion. 

What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 

It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 

Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 

He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 

Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 

Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 

I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 

No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 

Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 

The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 

At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 

You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 

“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 

“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 

“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 

Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 

It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 

He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 

“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 

You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 

This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 

But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 

“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 

There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 

“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 

“You’ll have mine.” 

The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 

You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 

— 

That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 

He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 

“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 

“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 

He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 

“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 

You took a shot in the dark. 

“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 

His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 

So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 

But why? 

And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 

You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 

“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 

“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 

At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 

“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 

“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 

Of course, that was what he took away. 

“Billy,” you warned playfully. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 

You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 

“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 

“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 

Names.  

You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 

You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 

He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 

“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 

He leaned his elbows on the table. 

“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 

Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove x female reader #Billy Hargrove x fem!reader #Billy Hargrove x you #Billy Hargrove one shot #Billy Hargrove oneshot #Billy Hargrove fanfic #Billy Hargrove fanfiction #Billy Hargrove imagine #Billy Hargrove imagines

[chr0llossexygf]

MISUNDERSTANDING I

PAIRING: eddie munson x henderson!fem reader

SUMMARY: prom is coming up. you wanted to go with eddie, eddie didn’t wanna go with you. at least that’s what you thought. insecurities kick in and you refuse to talk or look at eddie. but he can’t stand a day without talking to you. how is he supposed to apologise when it’s a total misunderstanding?

part 1 / part 2

WARNING: eddie being a rlly stupid teen boy 😡. angst! reader is rlly insecure. cuss words. jason 🙄 cuz he needs a warning. THIS IS PART 1 and it’s rlly sad. eddie and reader are both 17

“ we’re goin-”

“ we aren’t going.”

you both say at the same time, you groan rolling your eyes. “ eddie come on we have to go it’s prom!” you whine covering your face annoyed. “ absolutely not. it’s prom it’s for weirdos.” he says while wiping his guitar with a tissue. “ but eddie. we literally are weirdos. stacy mckay is handing out party invitations and we’re here talking about a fantasy game.” you say laying back down. “ yeah but henderson prom is for jocks and cheerleaders with daddy’s money.” he says cracking his knuckles. “ eds come on it’s our last-maybe your last year in highschool with me, just go to prom with me.” you whine standing up, you look around and see people in the parking lot. forgetting you were chilling on the school roof. you quickly sit back down making eddie chuckle, “ just go with your brother henderson.” eddie says laying down. you snap your head towards him, “ excuse me? i’m not going to the prom with my brother that’s so lame!” you grown. “ but we are lame for the love of god henderson.” eddie yells.

“ your going.” you stand up again, eddie covers his face with his hand. “ yeah no i’m not.” he says. you raise an eyebrow, “ yes you are.” you say holding your hand out for him. he takes it and stands up, “ nope!” he says running then jumping off the roof to the parking lot floor. you roll your eyes following him. “ this is why you have no female friends.” you say flipping him off. “ sure henderson.” he says taking your finger trying to put it in his mouth. “ ew go away.” you say shoving your hand in your pocket. eddie smiles, “ still not going.” he says crossing his hands. “ i hate you.” you say giggling. eddie puts his hands over his chest, “ oh god i’m so hurt!” he says pouting. you flip him off moving closer to him as you two walk into school.

“ freak.” someone says behind eddie, he turns around closing his locker. jason- oh god jason? what does he want with eddie. “ what do you want dipshit?” eddie says crossing his hands. jason takes a deep breath in smiling, eddie smirks. “ is your uh really hot friend going to prom?” jason says smirking tilting his head. eddie stops smirking. “ can’t ask her yourself?” eddie says pushing jason out of the way. “ come on freak, just wanna know if she’s going.” jason says catching up, putting his hand on eddie’s shoulder stopping him. eddie takes a deep breath in looking back at jason. “ yes she’s going. now go shoot your balls into laundry baskets.” eddie says shoving jason’s hand off of him. “ will do. thanks freak.” jason says patting eddie’s shoulder.

“ your not going to the prom with him” eddie says crossing his hands leaning back on your bed, “ what?” you say turning around throwing the dress you had over your body on the floor. “ why not?” you say tilting your head to the side. “ because it’s jason. ” eddie says reaching over your nightstand picking up a cassette . “ hey hands to yourself.” you say snatching the cassettes. he throws his hands up in defeat, “ come on are you seriously thinking of going with jason?” eddie says. “ yes munson.” you grown jumping on your bed covering your face. “ you seriously pick prom with jason over playing dnd? with me and dustin?” he says standing up walking to your perfume stand, spraying some of your perfume on himself. “ yes.” you blatantly say.

eddie turns around flipping you off. “ come on it’ll be fun munson! just for like 10 minutes.” you say standing up grabbing his hand. eddie turns the other way because he knows, if he looks into your eyes he’ll give in. your beautiful eyes jesus. “ we can go wearing hellfire shirts.” you suggest, eddie turns around. “ really?” he says in shock. “ no.” you say pushing past him to your closet. “ how about this one?” you say turning around holding up a baby blue dress. it’s a v-neck dress that reaches the floor, it’s usually worn with silky white gloves and a pearl necklace. “ do you like it?” you ask looking at eddie.

eddie stares, and stares hard. the image of you in the dress made him blush. blush. like blush a lot. “ hellooo! earth to eddie!” you say shaking the dress. your laugh, “ dustin!” you yell out loud. “ dustin henderson!” you yell again. “ what?” dustin says walking into your room with a bar of nougat in his hand. “ is this pretty?” you ask looking back at the dress. “ no way eddie is going to prom?” dustin says gasping. eddie shakes his head snapping out of his day dream, “ no your sister is going with jason.” eddie says standing up walking up to dustin. “ what?!” dustin yells. “ quiet!” you yell at your brother. “ why aren’t you going with eddie? he’s perfect!” dustin says looking at eddie. “ i wanted to! he doesn’t wanna go to prom with me!” you say throwing the dress on your bed crossing your hands.

“ eddie?!” dustin says crossing his hands too. “ oh my god does it run in the family?” eddie says chuckling. “ i don’t wanna go to prom because cheesy and lame.” he says throwing his hands up in defeat. “ that’s the point of the prom!” you whine sitting on the bed. “ ask steve.” dustin says. “ what? steve?” eddie says in offense.” yeah maybe i will.” you say laying down on your bed. “ you can’t ask out steve harrington.” he says crossing his hands annoyed. “ why not? its either him or jason.” you sit up crossing your hands too. “ unless..” you sing raising your eyebrows jokingly. he throws a pillow hitting you. “ absolutely not.” he says. you groan. “ is it cuz it’s me?” you say turning to look at him. “ what?! no!” he yells. “ then why not.” you say.

“ if it was chrissy asking you. you’d 100% say yes.” you mumble laying back down. he remains silent. why is he silent? you sit back up crossing your hands. “ wait seriously?” you scoff. you and dustin make eye contact. “ wow fine okay.” you stand up walking out of your room. you slam your bedroom door. you walk to the front door. putting on your converse. you open the door. grabbing your bike you immediately start riding it. are you over reacting? are you just insecure? fuck its so stupid. why couldn’t he just tell you he wanted to go with chrissy instead of having you ask him over and over again. it was humiliating. and stupid.

you start tearing up. it was dark. the only light coming from your bike. why are you starting to tear up. fuck this is so stupid. was it because you felt humiliated? or was it the fact that eddie wanted to go with chrissy and not you? who wouldn’t though. chrissy is so pretty. so so pretty. she was extremely nice. you feel so dumb and pathetic. you continue riding your bike as tears roll down your face. you take a turn to the richer side of town. you look around. you spot the house your looking for. you start paddling faster. you get off your bike. standing infront of the house you wipe your tears roughly. you take a deep breath in. you walk up to the door and knock. you gulp as the door opens revealing

“ are you crazy?! chrissy over my sister?” dustin yells throwing a cassette at eddie. eddie dodges it. “ no! no no never!” eddie yells back standing up. “ then what!” dustin yells again spit coming out of his mouth. “ i don’t want her to ask me out!” eddie yells back. dustin steps back. “ no not like that! it’s because i wanted to! i had this whole thing planned and i don’t want her to ask me out!” eddie yells grabbing the cassette. “ what?!” dustin yells again. oh for fuck sake.

#eddie munson #fanfiction #imagines #mike wheeler #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things 1 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #oneshot #xreader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things imagine

[thewritingofamadwoman]

Billy’s Girl

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader!Reader (reader’s last name is Emmerson; no reason, just cuz)

Warning: Fluff, making out, Billy realizing he’s in love, and Jason Carver being the dick that he is.

Enjoy & let me know what you think! 💙

“Dude look at Emmerson, she looks fucking hot in that cheerleading outfit.”

“Nah man have you seen Chrissy? She looks amazing.”

“Yeah but have you seen that skirt on Emmerson? If she jumps a little higher, I’ll be able to..”

“Finish that fucking sentence Carver, and the only thing you’ll be able to do is drink your lunch through a fucking straw.”

Billy Hargrove turned around from his seat on the bleachers to glare at the boy seated directly behind him, who was objectifying his girlfriend. Now, dont get it twisted. No one loves cat calling more than Billy Hargrove. But now that he’s a taken man things have changed. He only had heart eyes for his girl. Little Ms Emmerson was one of the first people he met in this shitty, bumble fuck town when he first moved here with his fucked up family. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet, the love of his life. She was the light to Billy’s darkness. He promised her and himself that he would protect her at all costs. And he intended to keep that promise.

Jason Carver visibly gulped at Billy’s threat, knowing that the Hargrove boy wasn’t kidding. Billy’s glare deepened and it his nose flared, almost like a bull ready to charge.

“Sorry Hargrove, didn’t see you there. Just meant to say that your girl is gorgeous.” Jason said, attempting to calm the situation.

Calling her gorgeous? Strike two.

“Yeah I know she’s fucking gorgeous Carver, I’ve got eyes. Just keep your fucking eyes on your own girlfriend and shut your fucking mouth,” and with that, Billy turned back around, eyes back on his girl as she practiced with the rest of her team.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned and found Billy’s eyes immediately. She smiled wide and blew him a kiss before getting into the next routine formation. Billy pretended to catch the floating kiss and brought it to his heart. One of the girls around her whispered something and Billy watched as his girl smiled and blushed, the girls around her obviously teasing her about her their relationship. Her bright eyes found his again and Billy’s swore that in that moment, he’d never felt a love stronger than that. His heart tightened in his chest and he felt like he could explode with pride.

Practice ended an hour later and Billy found himself outside, leaning on his Camaro and patiently waiting on his girl. With anyone else, Billy would have driven off, angry at having looked like a fool for waiting an hour for someone. But for his girl? Billy would wait until the end of time. The gym doors opened and the sound of a gaggle of girls made its way to Billy’s ears. He looked up, arms crossed in his denim jacket as he waited to spot her, a smirk immediately forming on his lips when he did. She locked eyes with him and said goodbye to her friends, making her way towards him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hey handsome. Thank you for waiting for me,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.

“Anything for you. Just don’t make it a habit. I barely wait for Maxine when she’s late,” he teased giving her a genuine smile, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

“That’s mean, you should wait for her more often. It’s going to get chilly soon,” she gently berated him, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Billy suppressed the shiver he felt coming on, and pulled her closer. She giggled in his arms, pressed so tightly against him, and loving every moment of it.

“I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to think about my little shit head sister right now. I want to think about you in that little uniform of yours,” he whispered against her lips, barely touching. She played along, whispering a reply against his lips as well.

“Oh? And what about my uniform?”

“Just that it’ll look way better on my bedroom floor,” he growled and closed the space between them, pressing his lips hungrily against hers. He swallowed her gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he devoured her. One of his hands slipped down to her behind, using his large palm to give her an impromptu squeeze. She squealed into the kiss and Billy laughed against her lips. When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“Woah, where did that come from?” She asked breathlessly. Billy grinned and nuzzled his nose against her again.

“What, can’t a guy show his girl just how much he’s missed her?” She smiled back at him and pulled him into a sweet embrace.

What she didn’t see, however, was Jason Carver’s car behind her as she and Billy were making out.

What’s she also didn’t see, was that while Billy was hugging her, he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin; his arm around his girl’s waist and middle finger up at Jason as he drove by, a scowl on his face.

#billy hargrove x reader insert #billy hargove imagine #Billy Hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader

[rafescurtainbangz]

Fine - Billy Hargrove One Shot +18

Minor DNI

2k

Billy Hargrove x female reader

Based off of an ask by @billysbot :

SMUT, lots of pet names, language, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, practically plotless, ownership kink, cum play, manipulative Bills; canon-typical assholary

★Lightly edited★

Y/N’s POV:

“Co’mere,” you whisper through panting breaths, tugging Eddie towards Steve’s room. The speakers blare from downstairs; the upstairs of the Harrington’s packed like a brothel.

Eddie takes you into his arms, pinning you against the wall; deepening your kiss. You moan against his lips, rolling your hips to soothe the want between your thighs.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Eddie mutters between kisses; his soft, sweet lips moving effortlessly with yours. “Been waiting for this for a while. I-”

“The fuck is going on here?” You hear the deep bark of your ex. Ugh, Goddamnit. “Kissin’ my girlfriend, Munson?”

“Not your girlfriend, Hargrove,” you snap.

“Since when baby?” He steps a little closer. You feel Eddie’s grip loosen; setting you on the floor, fear setting in as Billy closes in on the two of you. You grit your teeth, feeling your anger swell.

“I’ll call you. Okay?” Eddie whispers, hastily; looking at Billy out of the corner of his eye. You can tell he's nervous; which is valid, honestly, because you belong to Billy whether you hate him or not.

“You won’t,” Billy laughs. “You're not gonna talk to her ever again. You understand?”

“Yeah - yeah. Understood,” Eddie mumbles as he meets your eyes again. “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

“Call her sweetheart again. Please,” Billy pleads; an unhinged look in his piercing blue eyes as he challenges Eddie to say one more fucking word.

Eddie turns on his heels, disappearing down the steps.

“Have a nice night, honey,” Billy smiles; flashing you a wink, following close behind Eddie.

You reach out, clawing the shoulder of his red button-down; yanking him back to you as he releases a manic laugh. SLAP. The sound of your hand cracking his cheek resounds through the hallway.

A wicked smile spreads on Billy’s lips; your act of violence carrying the opposite effect, Billy craving more per usual.

“I fucking hate you,” you hiss.

“Sure you do,” he hums; as he steps closer, backing you into the wall. It’s true… it’s not just lip service I fucking hate him. I hate the way I can’t get over him, the way he’s constantly on my mind even when he treats me like absolute dog shit; the way he says I’m the only one; but, can’t quite seem to keep that promise. I hate that I still love him. “Were you gonna fuck Munson?” He winces, looking back at you in disgust. “Are times really that tough?”

“Leave me alone, Billy.” You blow by him, shoulder-checking him on the way to the stairs. He reaches out for you, hauling you back in. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

“To find Steve. He’s always a good time. And, he’s not scared of you. Bigger dick too.” Lie.

“Fuck you,” Billy growls; his ego bruised as you strike a nerve. A devilish smile tugs on your lips this time.

“We done here?” You chuckle; just pressing his buttons further.

“Not even close.”

Billy’s lips crash into yours, taking your breath away as his hips push into you, guiding you back to the wall. You can feel his bulge, rock-hard against you as he grinds, keeping cadence with your kiss. You give in momentarily; hands, skimming up his muscular body, resting on his firm chest before shoving him off.

“Get off of me!”

You stride away but he grabs you, tossing you effortlessly over his shoulder. “Remember that safe word? I haven’t heard it yet, princess. You must still want my cock. Am I right or am I right?” He sneers as he steps into Harrington’s room, slamming the door shut.

“Billy!” You scream; doing your best to fight your way out of his arms; but, he’s right. He's all you want.

“You think I’m happy about this?” He snips. “I was about to fuck, Rachael Dalton. Pretty little thing; sweet fuckin’ ass, perfect tits. And then you, you decided to sneak in here with Munson. And we can’t have that now. Can we?”

“Why? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You groan.

“‘Cause you’re mine, baby.”

He can't be serious.

“I’m not, Billy. You don’t own me.”

The corners of his lips curl into a little smile. “Well, we both know that isn’t true. Is it, sweetheart?” Billy lunges forward, lips locking with yours. You kiss passionately, gasping for air, gripping his long locks; your body aching for contact.

Heat fans across your being; a steady pulsing between your thighs, an ache in your core that was missing with Eds. No one would ever compare to Billy. It's fucking infuriating.

His blood-red shirt is pulled taut across his broad shoulders; chest fully exposed. You pull at what little buttons remain; Billy quickly rips his shirt off the rest of the way.

You reach for him instantly; drawing your hands from his strong chest through the ripples of his abs, following the deep indentations of his v-lines to his leather belt. You suck off his bottom lip, biting down hard enough to pinch; making Billy moan before shoving you against the wall.

Billy’s rough hands follow the zipper between your breasts, drawing it down slowly; savoring each new inch of bare skin, until your little dress falls to the floor. "Such a whore f’me," Billy chuckles, looking at you lustfully as you stand in front of him in nothing but red lingerie.

“Not for you.”

“Bullshit… Who else would you wear this for? Tell me.” He’s right. Fucking asshole. Billy reaches behind your back; unclasping your bra with a single hand as the other grips the hair at the nape of your neck. He reaches down, tugging at your delicate lace panties; ripping them away.

"Fucking dick," you moan breathily as he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling lightly; moving to the other as he palms your curves.

"These fuckin' tits," he mumbles, drunkenly against your chest as he continues to play. The other hand reaches down, skimming up your inner thigh. A thick finger glides through your folds, toying with your entrance; your obvious excitement making him release a needy moan. “You say you hate me; but, this pussy says otherwise.” Billy slaps your cunt, making you fuss.

“Stop, Billy.”

“Just say the word, doll, and I’ll stop,” he taunts as you finger the button of his Levi’s, splaying the zipper. “You don’t even know what you want,” he murmurs.

“Shut the fuck up,” you groan as you snare his denim, pulling it and his boxers to his feet as you lower yourself to your knees.

You move back slightly as Billy foots closer, bullying you back to the wall. His eyes beg for you, as you lift his hard length to your plush lips.

"My girl looks so good on her knees. Fuck," he pants; throwing his head back as you swirl your wet tongue around his reddened tip, swiping the lick of precum leaking from his swollen head.

You wrap your lips around him as Billy reaches down, taking your head in his hands; sinking onto his cock as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. Billy grips your hair, pulling slightly causing you to moan and hum, as you start to bob back and forth.

You can feel his thick dick throb on your tongue; every ridge and vein, gliding in and out of your mouth. "S-Shit, baby," he pants; eyebrows knitting tightly.

You add your hands, following your mouth as you work. A slight twist causes Billy to moan; his stance shifting. Taking your tongue you stroke the underside of his shaft, making his thick thighs quiver.

"What would you do without my dick?” He grunts as you deep-throat his cock; gagging slightly. You feel tears roll down your cheeks, dripping off your chin.

Billy slams his hands against the wall, thrusting into you suddenly; moving you even closer to the wall as he uses your mouth to stroke his cock; your head pressed to the partition.

"I'm gonna cum, princess," he moans. You cup his balls in your hand, rolling them gently; feeling as they tighten. "Ugh... Christ," Billy grunts; spilling his load deep into your throat. His eyes pinch shut, fluttering open slowly. "Holy fuck," he huffs.

You stand up, watching his beautiful, stupid fuckin’ face as he comes down from his high. He wastes no time taking you back into his arms, mouth meeting yours. "You hate me. Huh? You sure about that? You weren’t throatin’ my cock like you hated me," he mumbles between kisses.

“You treat me like shit. You’re a fuckin’ dick. You’re a liar. How could I not hate you, Billy?” You whisper against his lips. “You’re a disrespectful asshole and your only positive quality is your dick.”

He smiles against your lips; a deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ve got a nice ass too.”

Billy pumps his dick a few times, kicking your foot to the side. You spread your legs as he guides himself to your warmth. You feel his fat cockhead swirl around your entrance; a tug as he starts to stretch you out before drawing out completely. "Fuck... You're soaked," he groans; thrusting himself in fully, taking your breath away. “Gettin’ all worked up over suckin’ my cock?”

"N-No," you stammer.

"Who’s the liar now?" He draws out, thrusting rougher; making you whimper as you feel him fill you to the brim. He wraps his arms around your ass picking you up; you fall deeper onto his shaft, crying in pleasure as he ruts roughly. Billy pumps into you quickly, fucking you out of your heels; landing on the floor below.

He draws you off the wall, walking you to the bed; kissing messily before laying you on your back. Billy mounts you again; gripping your thighs, pulling you to the edge.

He wraps your legs around his shoulders; taking his dick in his fist again. Billy runs his cock along the length of your soaked silk, gathering your arousal before pressing himself in nice and slow.

He rocks his length into you, playing with depths; watching your eyes roll back as he drags out. Your breasts bounce with each clap of your ass against his hips.

Taking your ankles in his hands he pulls them straight up in the air, using them as leverage to drive deeper. "Shit, Bills," you cry; feeling the pressure of his length and the tugging of the stretch.

"Bills?” He stammers as he watches you get closer and closer to the edge. “Using nicknames again I see. You giving in, baby? Or, are you just goin’ so dumb on my cock you can think straight?”

“Shut up.” SLAP. You smack him across the face again, making him growl in pleasure.

Billy reaches for your wrist, pinning it against Steve’s plush mattress; grabbing the other as well, lowering himself to your lips. “You gotta stop slappin’ me or I’m gonna fall in love with you all over again,” he groans.

Billy reaches his arms down, looping them around your body before tossing you higher on the mattress. He spreads your thighs widely, spitting on your clit before stuffing his cock back inside.

Billy’s body slaps against yours; his hand greeting your greedy cunt, rubbing small circles on your aching pearl. You close your walls tightly around him, causing Billy to throw his head back in pleasure.

"Whose pussy is this?” He moans, breathlessly.

Your eyes roll back in your head; lip bitten as you hold back the words he's longing to hear.

"Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” He snarls as his large hand wraps around your throat, picking up the pace; an unrelenting tempo as you feel your pleasure near its peak.

“Fuck you,” you spit. His hold tightens, a smile spreading on his lips. You can feel your pulse under his hand as your eyes flutter shut. “Yours,” you whimper.

"Good fuckin’ girl… Want me to cum in this tight cunt? Make you cum?" He taunts.

"Yes. M’gonna - Fuck, Billy," you cry as your body flutters around his cock.

Billy moans your name as he floods you with his seed; panting through jagged breaths as he continues to work you through your climax.

Billy’s eyes shut heavily as he feels you relax around him. He wraps himself in you, nestling into the crook of your neck.

The two of you reach for a breath; hearts banging against each other. He draws back not soon after; his hooded eyes meet yours, that same smirk setting on his kiss-bitten lips.

"Still hate me?" He asks, breathlessly; scooping his sandy blonde bangs off his sweat-glistened forehead.

"Yes," you whisper; knowing full well that meant nothing now.

"M’sorry,” he rasps. You roll your eyes and look away; but, he grabs your face, guiding you right back in again. "Will you be my girlfriend?" Billy asks, his tone gentle and warm, contrasting everything leading up to the point.

"You can’t be serious?” You whisper. “Hell fucking no.” A little scowl tugs on his lips. “I wasn’t kidding, Billy. You’re not good for me. I can’t trust you.”

"That’s not true. M’good for you,” he pouts. "You love me. I know you do.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“C‘mon, princess,” he whispers against your neck as he draws his cock out nice and slow. His eyes fall between your thighs, watching your shared releases slip out of your entrance. He swirls his thick fingers, stuffing it back inside; toying with your cunt as his eyes plead with you to say ‘yes’.

“Fine.”

#billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove boyfriend #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove moodboard #dacre montgomery #boyfriend billy hargrove

[imyourbratzdoll]

Just read your Charlie Swan fic💕💕 it was great. Can I request smut with Charlie swan where reader was riding him in public in the police car and a fellow police officer catches them. After that the whole station talks about it and Charlie and reader are being called freaky😭😭 female reader please. Thanks alot 💕💕

hello honey! thank you and I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you like it.

summary - you and the chief get freaky in his car.

warning - smut, public sex, cream pie, swearing.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You tug on Charlie’s hair as you ride him, bouncing up and down. Your moans fill the small space, causing Charlie’s cock to throb and his head to fall back into the headrest. His hands grip your hips, thrusting up into you as his breath hits your neck. “F–fuck, sweetheart. You feel so amazing.” You whine, and your head falls back, exposing your neck. “Keep going, sweetheart. You’re doing so well for me!” Charlie places kisses on your sweet spot, sucking the flesh on your neck into his mouth softly. 

“O–oh, Charlie!” Your fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling your walls tense around his thick member, your eyes roll back as pleasant shivers spread through your body. You can feel your orgasm approaching, it’s so close to snapping. “I’m going to cum!” 

Just as you are about to finish, there’s a knock at the window. “Hey, Chief! These windows aren’t tinted!” You both turn your head, Charlie covering any part of you that is exposed, holding back a groan as your walls pulsate around him rapidly. “But good job!” The officer chuckles, shaking his head and walking back into the station. 

Charlie looks at you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” You smile, wiggling your hips slightly. 

“Don’t worry about it, are you going to make me cum, Chief?” You smile sweetly, batting your lashes. A gasp escapes you as he holds you against him and begins to pound into you. Your orgasm builds back up and you cum around Charlie’s cock. “F–fuck…” You tuck your face into his neck, moaning softly as he continues to fuck into you until he finishes inside of you. 

Charlie moves your head back, cupping your cheek while stroking your hair back. “You are beautiful, I just want you to know that.” He whispers, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Are you ready to go back in? There’s no doubt that he’s told everybody.” Charlie rolls his eyes, smiling when you giggle. 

You nod, fixing your clothes and leaning over to grab your perfume out of your bag to spray yourself with. When you place it back into your bag, you grab your lip balm and swipe it across your lips while staring Charlie in the eyes. He watches with adoration before he opens the door and helps you out, ensuring you don’t hit your head or fall. 

Charlie holds your hand as the two of you walk into the station. Everyone’s head turns and cheers begin to fill the room. “Chief! Chief! Chief!” Their fists punch the air as they surround you. “We didn’t know our boss and his girl would be so freaky!” One of them shout, sending a wink your way. 

Charlie shakes his head, his cheeks turn pink, and he pulls you closer to him. “Alright, alright. You’ve all had your fun, now get back to work.” 

You giggle and bury your face into his chest, feeling your cheeks heat from all the attention. As everyone scatters and gets back to work, you remove yourself from his chest and look up. “I guess we are freaky, Chief. Wanna get freaky in your office?” He smirks and nods, pulling you toward his office and ignoring his employees.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollasks #anon reply #imyourbratzdollwork #charlie swan fandom #charlie swan #charlie swan fanfiction #charlie swan fic #charlie swan fanfic #charlie swan oneshot #charlie swan one shot #charlie swan imagines #charlie swan imagine #charlie swan angst #charlie swan x reader #charlie swan x female reader #charlie swan fan fic #charlie swan fan fiction #billy burke #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight fic #twilight fandom

[geminiwritten]

undercover ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*

notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!

warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude

word count: 6496

“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.

Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.

“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.

He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”

“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”

“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”

You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.

“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”

Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.

“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”

“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he begins helping you unpack the bags of food, “besides, I had a sneaking suspicion. You do kind of look at him like-”

You pull a butterknife out of the draw and point it at him, “Like what?”

He freezes, his hands flying up on either side of his head in surrender.

Annie laughs again, “Okay, you two, cut it out.”

You put the knife down and retrieve three full sets of cutlery before setting a stack of bowls beside the containers of food. Hughie serves himself first before Annie fills her own bowl and you last, already shovelling mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth as you move back toward the couch.

“You know,” Hughie says between mouthfuls, “if you wanted to talk about it, I might be able to help.”

You scoff, “Yeah? How?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, talk to him.”

“And say what?” you drop your fork into your bowl, mocking Hughie’s voice as you say, “Hey Butcher, do you think Y/N is hot, because I know she dreams about fucking you.”

He scowls at you, “I can be subtle.”

Annie giggles, hiding her face behind her bowl as Hughie casts his glare toward her.

“I appreciate your concern, Hughie,” you say, “but I think I’ll just stick to fantasising about him in the shower.”

His expression morphs into disgust as he begins choking on his mouthful of food, his face turning bright red. Annie’s laughter fills the room, and you join her while Hughie struggles to compose himself.

To your surprise, and relief, Hughie agrees to keep your little secret to himself. He doesn’t even make a stupid face the next day when the three of you arrive at the boys’ current hideout, finding MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and the man himself huddled around the dining room table.

“Righ’ on time,” Butcher says with a grin, “let’s get to it, then.”

You knew he was excited about this next mission, if you could call it that. Everyone was, in fact, because thanks to Annie’s excellent intel, you were all attending Vought’s annual ball. A night of celebration to thank the mighty Supes for keeping the streets safe, or as Butcher liked to call it, Vought’s annual wank-fest.

“Your invitations are all sorted,” Annie says, pulling a small handful of envelopes out of her bag. “Hughie came up with all your aliases, so please stick to them, or you’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. Security is tough at this thing, and there’ll be no talking yourselves out of a bad situation.”

She looks pointedly at Butcher, but his smirk only widens.

“Frenchie,” Hughie says, “you’re going as a member of the tech team, so you’ll be behind the scenes and keeping an eye on the cameras for anything suspicious.”

Frenchie rubs his hands together excitedly, taking the envelope from Annie and tearing it open.

“Monsieur Felipe Lavigne, senior security technician,” he announces, reading the ID card aloud.

“MM and Kimiko, you’ll be with me,” Hughie goes on, “we’ll be posing as press on behalf of the city council. There’s a huge group of council members and associates, so all we have to do is blend in.”

MM takes two envelopes and passes one to Kimiko.

Hughie turns to you, “I originally had you listed as press too, but then decided it might be smart to double down on Butcher’s alias, give him another level of cover, you know?”

You frown, tilting your head sceptically as he hands you and Butcher an envelope each.

“You’ll be attending as prospective stakeholders, invited by corporate to bask in the glory of Vought in the hopes that you’ll invest in their cause,” Hughie explains. “An affluent couple from upstate New York, recently immigrated from Britain after growing bored of your rich English lifestyle.”

You’re almost positive your brows have reached your hairline as you stare at the envelope in your hands, your trembling fingers struggling to pull the ID badge out.

“Brooklyn Williams,” you read aloud.

Annie shoots Hughie a look, promising that he would be paying for this later, and you realise that he must have made this decision in the past twelve hours without consulting her.

“William Williams,” Butcher says, frowning at Hughie, “really?”

Despite being the target of several unhappy stares, Hughie chuckles.

Frenchie snickers too, “At least you will not forget it, eh?”

“Smart move, Hughie,” MM speaks up, “Butcher is the one most likely to be caught, but with Y/N in tow, he might think twice about putting himself in danger.”

Butcher rolls his eyes, “Do none of you ‘ave any faith in me?”

Hughie, Frenchie, and MM respond in unison, “No.”

The seven of you spend the next two hours going over the details of your aliases and the agenda of the function. It’s going to be a huge event, which meant little risk of actually running into Homelander or anyone who might recognise any of you. Annie won’t be able to help on the night, being one of the spotlight attendees, but that isn’t what’s was making you nervous. You’re going to have to spend a good five hours pretending to be married to Butcher, the one man you desperately want and the one man you were trying very hard not to fall in love with.

After what feels like forever, Frenchie announces that he is going to get dinner and Annie bids you all goodbye to check in at Vought tower. Hughie sets his laptop up at the desk in the corner of the lounge room while MM excuses himself for his nightly facetime call with Janine.

Kimiko turns to you, signing a question about what you were all going to wear on the night.

“Annie helped me organise some things,” you reply, gesturing toward the suitcase by the door. “You should try it on now, and if you don’t like it we can find something else.”

You know Kimiko isn’t a fan of cocktail attire, and you definitely didn’t want her walking into the dragon’s den worrying about the way she looked or if she’d be able to fight should the need arise.

“What ‘bout me, love?” Butcher asks, his signature smirk curling the corner of his lips.

Your cheeks burn under his gaze, “You don’t get a choice, you’ll be wearing a suit.”

He chuckles, “I do love a stubborn woman, must’ve been why I married you.”

Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you fail to think of a sarcastic retort, instead turning away in the hopes that he hasn’t already noticed the bright colour in your cheeks.

Kimiko drops the case on its back with a thud, unzipping it quickly and throwing it open to pull out each of the bagged costumes. There are four suits of various styles with varying accessories, and two dresses. She stands holding the one labelled with her name, dragging the zip right down the middle and revealing the soft black fabric of her dress. It isn’t quite full length, hemmed just below the knee in a pencil skirt style and devoid of any embellishments. A simple black dress with long sleeves, fitted but flexible.

She grins, signing to you that it is perfect and thanking you for not putting her in anything ridiculous.

“We chose two pairs of shoes too,” you say, “in case you don’t want to wear the heels.”

Butcher strides toward the suitcase and picks up the last bag, but you follow him, quickly snatching it out of his hands before he can pull the zip.

“My dress can wait until the night,” you hold it behind your back for good measure, “I’m still not sure about it.”

He quirks one brow, “You’re not wearin’ latex, are ya?”

You roll your eyes before turning on your heel, taking your dress into your room and tucking it into the back of your closet. You fall back on your bed, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to calm your erratic pulse. It’s just one night, you can hold it together for one night, right?

The next two days pass in a blur of preparations and planning, and before you know it, you’re staring at the dress hanging in your closet with a towel wrapped around your body. Your hair is clean and curled, pulled into a half up do with twisted gold pins creating the illusion of diadem just below the crown of your head. You took a little longer to do your makeup than usual, out of practice in the art of winged eyeliner and false lashes, but in the end, you were proud. Now, the dress.

Your fingers are numb as you pull the zipper down, revealing the red silk material of the gown that Annie convinced you would be a good idea. You blame her for this just as much as Hughie.

“Come on, Y/N,” MM calls through your bedroom door, “we have to go.”

You sigh and throw your towel aside, hurriedly pulling the dress off its hanger. The material is cool against your skin, sliding easily over your curves and fitting your body like a tailor-made glove. You twist awkwardly to secure the zip before turning to the mirror.

The dress is floor length, a few inches of the red silk pooling at your feet, with a long slit reaching scandalously up to your left hip. The straps are about an inch thick, and the neck cowled, showcasing your breasts and the perfect amount cleavage. The silk hugs your torso, and you’re a little startled at just how good you feel in this dress.

Another knock at the door has you rushing to slip into your beige heels, and you check that your underwear are pulled high enough to not be seen in the slit of the dress before opening the door. MM’s jaw drops.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You blush, “Thanks.”

Being the gentleman he is, he tears his eyes away from you, offering you his arm with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

In the lounge room, Kimiko is helping Frenchie with his tie and Hughie is struggling to secure his suspenders to his trousers. Your breath catches when your eyes land on Butcher, dressed in a classic and perfectly fitted black tux. He has even trimmed his beard and styled his hair, still a little dishevelled but holy shit, does the sight of him make your mouth water.

“Damn,” Hughie says when he sees you, “nice dress.”

“Nice suspenders.”

He chuckles, “Are we ready?”

Butcher turns to you, his jaw going slack and his eyes dark. Your chest squeezes, your lungs struggling to draw enough breath as your head spins from the lack of oxygen.

“Ready,” MM says beside you.

“Good,” Hughie tucks his ID badge into his shirt pocket, “I’ve organised two cars, one for Y/N and Butcher, and the other for the rest of us. Once we’re there, we can’t slip up, keep your masks up and don’t even look at anyone you think might recognise you.”

You check your small black clutch for your ID badge and phone.

“Earpieces are too risky tonight,” he continues, “so keep your phones on you, and if one of us is out, we all abort.”

Kimiko checks her own purse and the boys check their pockets before you all shuffle out the door. Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko exit the building first, leaving you and Butcher alone in the lobby.

“You ready, sweethear’?” he asks, gazing at you with the same dark eyes as before.

You nod, “As I’ll ever be.”

After a minute, you exit the apartment and climb into the awaiting car. Butcher greets the driver as the car pulls away from the curb, and you take the chance to pull your phone out, typing out a quick message to Hughie.

‘I’m going to kill you.’

Your phone pings before you can put it away, and you quickly turn it to silent before reading his reply.

‘You’re welcome ;)’

A warm hand on your bare legs startles you, the heat sinking into your blood and making it sizzle through your veins.

“You sure you’re alrigh’?” Butcher asks.

“Yeah,” you mutter, “just nervous.”

His thumb rubs soft circles on your thigh, sending shockwaves of desire right to your core.

“Nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, love, I’ve got you.”

Your eyes almost roll back in your head at the sound of his deep voice. He truly does not know how much he does have you, all of you.

“Thanks, Billy,” you whisper, your voice unsteady.

His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of car ride, and your pulse refuses to settle. Anxiety and desire tangle in your stomach, twisting it into loops and winding the knot in your core even tighter than it already was.

Eventually, the car stops, and you both thank the driver before climbing out. You’re not at the main entrance of the building, but there is still a ridiculous number of security guards standing around, and barriers preventing anyone without an invitation from getting within twenty feet of the door. Butcher wraps an arm around your waist to guide you forward, his warmth shielding you from the cold night air.

“By the way,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you look fuckin’ delectable in that dress.”

Another wave of heat washes through your veins, and it takes every ounce of focus for you to not stumble up the walkway. Two security guards step forward as you both flash your ID badges.

“Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the guard in front of Butcher says, scanning the barcodes on the badges, “welcome to Vought tower.”

The security guard in front of you is younger than the other, his blonde hair slicked back and his mouth etched into a sleazy smirk as his eyes rake up and down your body. He winks as he steps aside, and Butcher notices, his expression twisting into a scowl.

Just as you reach the doors, Butcher’s hand slips from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as he dips down and plants a hot kiss against your neck.

“Fuckin’ perve,” he mutters, before guiding you through the doors and down the corridor.

Your mouth is dry and your knees wobbly, but you move with practice and manage to appear cool and collected as you step into the huge event room. It’s extravagantly decorated with drapes of sheer fabric hanging from the high ceilings and a huge crystal chandelier in the centre. There are dozens of round tables, all set with fine silver-wear and obnoxious centrepieces made of red and white roses.

“Nice to know where all our money will be going if we decide to invest, darlin’,” Butcher says with a cheeky grin.

You giggle, letting him guide you through the clusters of elegantly dressed attendees toward where you assumed your table would be. You don’t remember ever finding out that piece of information, but you assume either Hughie or Annie told Butcher while you were still reeling about having to play ‘happy couple’ with him.

You listen carefully to snippets of conversations as you pass, waiting for anything interesting to catch your attention. Butcher stops at an empty table and pulls out a chair, you smile in thanks before taking a seat, quickly shuffling forward to avoid flashing everyone due to the ridiculously high split in your dress. Butcher notices though, chuckling to himself as he takes the chair beside you.

Before you can speak, he places a hand on your bare leg and squeezes, knocking every thought right out of your head.

You gasp, “I-It’s hot in here, is it hot in here?”

“I think that’s jus’ you, sweethear’,” he replies with a wink.

The room quickly fills with guests, conversations growing louder and drowning out the soft music playing over the speakers. Eventually, a woman takes the stage and the room falls quiet, listening to her lengthy introduction about how grateful Vought were for this night and how wonderful it is to be able to celebrate America’s finest superheroes. You can barely hear her though, your ears filled with the thrum of your pulse as Butcher’s fingers draw patterns on your leg. Your core aches, and you shift in your seat only to feel the dampness between your legs.

When the room erupts into applause, Butcher’s hand freezes, and you turn to see Homelander striding onto the stage, his hair blinding beneath the bright spotlight.

“Hey,” you whisper, placing a hand on top of Butcher’s, “you okay?”

He turns to you and his scowl relaxes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m good.”

You slip your other hand beneath his, praying that he doesn’t notice how sweaty your palms are as you play with his fingers beneath the table. Although you had started in the hopes of calming him, you find your own sense of relaxation in his touch, focusing on the feeling of his skin as Homelander drawls on about Vought and The Seven.

After what feels like an eternity, he finishes his speech and the room cheers again. The woman returns to the microphone to announce the first course of food before music and conversation fills the air, and you turn your attention toward the centre of the table. Butcher grips your hand as you attempt to move it, entwining his fingers with yours and only allowing one of your hands free.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you two at one of these events before,” the woman beside you says.

She’s older but extremely elegant, with a pendant around her neck that you don’t doubt costs more money than you’ll ever get to see in your bank account.

“We’re new in town,” you reply, your voice very slightly lilted, “just moved from London’s east end, actually.”

“How charming,” she places a hand against her pendant, “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Jack.”

The podgy man beside her nods, his cheeks and nose bright red as he guzzles from his glass of champagne.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, “I’m Brooklyn, and this is my husband, William.”

You cast a glance at Butcher, only to find his eyes already locked on you, sparkling under the soft yellow lights. He has dopey smile on his lips and an emotion you can’t discern floating behind his gaze. Your stomach flips.

“You do make a charming, if you don’t mind my saying,” Lucille says.

You nod, your cheeks tingling with warmth, “Thank you.”

“So,” her husband, Jack, speaks up, his voice gruff, “what brings you here?”

You wait a beat for Butcher to reply, but he only watches you with that same expression.

“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure,” you reply with a half-hearted laugh, “we have been thinking about investing, but I do wonder why a company of this immensity even needs investors.”

Jack chuckles, “You’ve got that right, seems greedy, doesn’t it?”

Lucille frowns at her husband before turning back to you, “We don’t do it for them, we do it for our grandkids, for their future. In the hopes that they will have a future, a safe one. This world is a nasty place.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” you sigh.

She nods, “That’s why it’s important to protect what you love, and hold on to it.”

Butcher’s hand squeezes yours, making your heart thump violently within your chest. You turn to him and meet his eyes, the fire in your veins blazing with a new intensity and heating every inch of your skin.

“I-If you’ll excuse me,” you stammer, pushing your chair back, “I need to use the bathroom.”

Butcher nods as you stand, and you can hear Lucille strike up new conversation while you weave between the tables toward the exit. Fresh air fills your lungs the moment you reach the foyer, and you pull your phone out of your bag, finding Hughie’s contact name with trembling fingers.

‘If I survive tonight, I WILL kill you.’

You hit send and turn toward the bathroom, almost stumbling when you see the same blonde security guard who had been stationed at the doors.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his slimy smirk loading the question with innuendo.

“I’m okay,” you reply, “thank you.”

He steps forward before you can move, “You sure? You look a little flustered. Perhaps a step outside might help? It does get awfully hot in here.”

The first spark of fear rattles up your spine.

“I appreciate that, but I just need to use the restroom,” you say.

His smirk doesn’t falter, “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’d be more than happy to escort you. Can’t have a stunning woman such as yourself wandering the streets alone.”

You force a polite smile onto your face as you step around him and hurry down the corridor toward the bathrooms. With one subtle glance over your shoulder, you see him watching, still standing at the end of the hall looking almost predatory.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, turning sharply into the first stall.

You close the toilet lid and sit on top if it, holding your head in your hands and counting your breaths. After a minute of trying to wrangle your wild thoughts, you decide that Butcher is either a fantastic actor or… in love with you. Your heart aches to agree with the latter, but your brain fights for reason, reminding you that you’re in an incredibly sensitive situation and he is only acting like this to keep up the façade.

You sigh and stand up, panic piercing your chest when you remember the pushy security guard waiting for you in the foyer. You find your phone again, tapping on Butcher’s name and quickly typing out a message.

‘Don’t freak out, I’m totally fine, but I need you to come get me. Foyer.’

You count to thirty before exiting the stall and washing your hands, pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the mirror, aside from the deep red splashed across your cheeks. You walk calmly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, ignoring the spike in your pulse when you see the back of the security guard still standing there.

He turns around at the sound of your footsteps, a smirk curling his lips. “Hey gorgeous, are you-”

“There you are,” Butcher calls, striding toward you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your lower back as he presses your body against his. You don’t have time to respond before his lips capture yours. Your knees almost buckle, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as his mouth moves against yours and your mind goes completely blank.

He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead still touching yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”

The feeling that bubbles in your chest makes your heart want to explode.

“Better get back in there,” he says, carefully releasing you.

You nod, unable to summon a single word as he looks at you like that, his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. He takes one of your hands in his and pulls you toward the doors before casting a menacing scowl over his shoulder at the security guard.

“Did he touch you?” he asks, his voice low.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Good.”

“Wait,” you tug on his hand before he can walk through the doors.

He frowns as you pull him to the side, into an alcove beneath the grand stairs that lead up to the private rooms above the event hall. He doesn’t resist when you press him against the wall, your hands on his chest and your body covering his. You look up at him through your thick lashes, and you can feel a soft groan rumble through his chest.

“I’m not sure we were convincing enough,” you whisper, before surging up and pressing your lips against his.

His hands hold the back of your head as he tilts his own to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and making you whimper. Your ears fill with the erratic thrum of your heart and the soft moans from the man in front of you, making you forget about everything that isn’t him. The fire rushing through your veins collects at your core, burning with need and making you clench as his hands wander down your back to cup your ass.

Time loses all meaning as you tangle your limbs with his, your body throbbing almost painfully. You have to stop yourself from clawing at his clothes, every desire within you craving to tear his suit apart and absolutely devour him.

Eventually, your lungs begin to burn, and the short gasps between kisses aren’t enough to appease them, so you pull away. His pupils are huge, consuming almost all of the colour in his eyes as he studies your face with a small smile.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to tell him the same when someone clears their throat, and you both snap toward the sound. Hughie is standing a few feet away, his ID badge now on a lanyard around his neck and a notebook in his hand. His face looks pained, struggling to contain what would be a hysterical laugh if you weren’t all supposed to be undercover.

You stumble back from Butcher with wide eyes, your mouth trying to form words but no sound comes out.

Butcher straightens his jacket and clears his throat, “Sorry, mate, as you were.”

Hughie takes a deep breath and turns toward the room, and you have to commend him for his self-control.

Butcher looks down at you, “D’you think that was convincing enough?”

You giggle, “Maybe a little too convincing.”

He smirks and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping at the smeared lipstick. You know you must look like a wreck, your makeup smudged and your face blotchy and red, but you don’t care.

“Better get back in there before you get me arrested for public indecency,” he says, taking your hand in his.

You laugh again as he leads you back into the room, guiding you through the throngs of people and toward your table. Lucille greets you with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveys your flustered state. Butcher sits and shuffles his chair closer to yours before placing a hand on your thigh, much higher than where it was before.

“It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” Lucille whispers to you.

You frown, “What is?”

“That love and passion,” she replies with a grin. “He just adores you, I can tell. Don’t ever let go of what you two have, it’s rare.”

You try to hide your smile, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t.”

You’re not sure what you’ve missed but you assume it was Annie’s speech as the chatter around you is filled mostly with her name. The woman from before returns to the stage to rave some more, though you don’t bother trying to pay attention. Butcher is watching you with hungry eyes, filling your head with filthy thoughts and absolutely soaking your panties.

“So, Mrs. Williams,” he says, his voice low, “got any plans after this?”

“Not really,” you reply, “but I do think there’s a toy in the top drawer of my dresser calling my name.”

He swallows thickly, “Is that so?”

You nod, “I’m feeling a little wound up.”

“Perhaps I could help you unwind,” he whispers, “think I’d do a better job than that fuckin’ toy.”

“That’s a bold statement, are you sure?”

His fingers dig into your thighs with enough pressure to bruise, making your whole body jolt.

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure.”

His hand slides up your thigh and you part your legs instinctively.

He smirks, “Good girl, so responsive.”

The burning in your core pulses, sending white hot waves of desire up your spine to cloud your mind. His fingers brush the crotch of your panties, barely a touch but enough to make you sigh softly.

“You’re soaked,” he whispers, “so ready for my c-”

Cheers erupt throughout the room, drowning out his voice and startling you out of your stupor. His hand slides back down your leg and his smirk breaks into a devilish grin when you look at him with a scowl.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, drawing steady breaths and trying to focus on anything but the man beside you. He chuckles at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket.

“Was that your mistress?” you tease.

He raises his brows, “Is that jealousy I’m hearin’?”

You slide your hand up his thigh, stopping just below his crotch to squeeze.

“You tell me, do I have anything to be jealous of?”

His voice is almost a groan, “Never.”

“Good.”

You slide your hand over his crotch, relishing in the way his whole body tenses before you pull back and fold your hands in your own lap. He sighs and takes a generous gulp from his glass of champagne, grimacing at the taste before leaning toward you with an arm over the back of your chair.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You turn to him, your face barely an inch from his, “Oh, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He leans back in his chair, his jaw tense but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You fond of that dress?” he asks casually.

“This old thing? Nah.”

He nods once, “Good, because I’m goin’ to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The woman sitting on his other side chokes on her mouthful of champagne, casting an abhorrent glare toward the two of you before completely turning her back. You have to swallow your laughter, averting your gaze to your lap as Butcher chuckles quietly.

You feel your purse vibrate at the same time that Butcher reaches for his pocket. You pull your phone out and check the messages, finding several from Hughie.

‘We’re here to WORK, not fornicate.’

‘I just spent five minutes laughing to myself in the toilet.’

‘The shows closing soon, we should leave before the crowds. Unless you and Butcher are busy ;)’

“D’you think you can make it out of here without your knees bucklin’, love?” Butcher asks with a smirk.

You tuck your phone away and twist in your chair so that your legs are toward him, parting them slowly. The red silk slides against your skin and the split opens with your legs. Butcher’s gaze drops, his whole face turning red as his eyes grow wide.

“I bet you a hundred dollars that you’re rock hard right now,” you whisper, leaning forward.

His jaw twitches as his gaze moves to your chest, and you smirk before twisting toward Lucille.

“We’re going to duck out before the masses, but it was lovely meeting you,” you say, “and best wishes to your grandkids. They’re lucky to have such incredible grandparents.”

She smiles at you, her eyes watery, “It was lovely meeting you too, dear.”

Her husband grumbles a farewell and you smile politely at the rest of the table who you hadn’t bothered to meet before turning back to Butcher expectantly. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the way he shifts in his seat.

“Pleasure meeting you,” he nods toward Lucille and Jack.

He pushes his chair back and stands up, drawing a hand out of his pocket and dropping two fifty dollar bills onto the table before stepping back. A grin breaks across your face as you snatch the money and stand up, taking Butcher’s outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the room. You almost stumble at the pace at which he drags you through the crowds, not stopping until you’re through the foyer, out the doors, and a good distance from the building’s entrance.

“You owe me,” he growls, yanking on your wrist so that you fall into his arms.

“Take whatever you want,” you whisper, “I’m all yours.”

Another rumble vibrates through his chest, and the knot of anticipation in your stomach twists tighter.

“Good, you’re here,” Hughie calls, his feet slapping against the pavement as he jogs toward you.

Butcher’s hold goes slack, and you take a reluctant step away from him as MM and Kimiko follow a few paces behind Hughie. The cold air nips at your bare skin, making you shiver.

“Where’s Frenchie?” MM asks.

“On his way,” Hughie replies with his phone in his hand, “and the car is close.”

You startle at the feeling of material falling around your shoulders, and glance up as Butcher steps in front of you, his arms guiding his blazer over your trembling body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him through your thick lashes as his lips curl into a soft smile. He moves back to stand at your side and wraps one arm around you, pulling you against side.

Hughie’s grin is so wide you want to slap it off his face.

“Not a word,” Butcher mutters.

Hughie chuckles, “I didn’t say anything.”

MM is clearly amused, and even Kimiko is giggling when Frenchie comes jogging up behind them.

“Did I miss something?” he asks, his brows raised as he looks from Butcher to you.

“Car’s here,” Hughie announces, and you all step toward the curb.

Hughie climbs in the front seat and greets the driver before texting rapidly on his phone, no doubt messaging Annie to let her know you were all safe and heading home. Kimiko and Frenchie shuffle toward the back of the van, and MM grumbles when neither you nor Butcher volunteer to join them. He squeezes between the two of them on the backseat before Butcher helps you into the van, and you take the single seat behind the passenger as Butcher falls into the last seat behind the driver.

You shrink into his jacket, enveloping yourself in his scent and relishing the warmth that his body had left behind. His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of the trip, studying your face, lingering on your lips, and moving up and down your body over and over again.

The drive feels much longer than it should, but the car finally pulls up outside your apartment block and you all pile out. Frenchie begins rambling about pieces of information he overheard, and MM fills in some of the gaps with snippets that he picked up in the press crowd. You almost feel guilty that you did nothing but dry hump Butcher and chat with an elderly rich woman, but that guilt washes away the moment you step inside the apartment.

“Bed, now,” Butcher tells you, tugging you by your hand toward the master bedroom.

“Y/N,” Hughie calls before you can disappear, “I thought your bedroom was that way.”

You turn to him with a frown, finding that stupid boyish grin stretched across his lips as the rest of the room watches you with amused faces.

“I’m not going to sleep, Hughie,” you say, before turning to Butcher, “I’m not tired.”

You catch a glimpse of his disgusted expression before you turn and rush into Butcher’s bedroom, followed closely by the man himself. His hand catches the collar the jacket and pulls it off of you as you step toward the bed.

“Not tired?” he asks, starting on the top button of his shirt.

You sit on the edge of the bed and kick your heels off. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

In two strides, he’s right in front of you, using his knee to nudge your legs apart so he can stand between them. His eyes trace up your bare leg, stopping where the red material reveals an inch of your black panties, and he sighs.

“So,” you say, leaning back with your hands on the bed, “what do I owe you?”

His self-control snaps and his hands yank at the opening of his shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons apart before he shrugs it off his shoulders. He straddles your hips and pushes you back, his lips assaulting your neck as you writhe beneath him.

“You said, I could take whatever fuckin’ I want,” he mutters against your skin.

You only moan in response and he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise before soothing it with his tongue.

“I’m gon’a take all of you,” he growls, “but first-”

He sits back suddenly, his fingers making quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his trousers.

“I made a promise to this dress,” he finishes, before gripping the material on either side of the slit and ripping it.

You gasp as the silk falls loose around your body, tearing right up to the neck and cleaving the dress apart entirely. His eyes rake over your bare skin as he licks his lips and drops onto his hands to hover over you, grinding his hips down and eliciting another moan from your mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs, “you’re gon’a kill me with those pretty noises, sweethear’.”

“Butcher,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need you.”

His elbows buckle and his body falls on top of yours as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss.

“You have me,” he murmurs against your mouth, “you’ve got all of me.”

END.

#billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #karl urban #one shot #oneshot #homelander #hughie campbell #starlight #mm #mothers milk #frenchie #kimiko #the female #fanfic #fanfiction

[birbius]

council of silliness,, what could they be talking about??

#oneshot game #a hat in time #billie bust up #deltarune #birbiart

[wwwbestgoredotcom]

Slashers with a s/o who owns a bakery

Warnings / murder mentions, fluff, short for most of them, suggestive themes (no smut)

Characters included / Thomas Hewitt, Micheal Myers, Billy lenz, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Candyman, Billy Loomis

Genre / fluff

Writing style / headcanons

Thomas Hewitt :

This man LIVES for your baked goods

You and his mother always cook together and he eats that shit up

When he puts you in his lap and you feed him cupcakes or spoonfuls of cake, he never let's you get up from his lap man

(He doesn't care how heavy you are, you are sitting on his lap)

Loves to cook with you

He'd be so greatful if help pay for their needs or feed them using your money

Scratch that bro he'd be BEYOND greatfull

Bandages you up when you burn or hurt yourself while baking

Micheal Myers :

Stands over you just watching you bake

Pushes the spoon away if you try to feed him

But after a couple tries he just accepts it at that point

Can't cook for the life of him

Won't admit it but he loves when you cook for him

Like for his birthday or a special occasion

Looks at you from outside of your shop window

(And nobody sees him for some reason??)

He got blood in batter of some cookies and he learned to never do that again

Billy Lenz :

Nah cuz this guy has the BIGGEST sweet tooth EVER

Begs you to make him sweets

Just pretend here he gets out of the attic

He sits on your lap and makes you feed him

Sits at your job all day until you leave (with him)

He sits on the counter in the kitchen and watches you bake

Gets hurt more than you when you accidently burn yourself

He compares your "sweetness" to your desserts

Ofc he makes it dirty

He steals sweets from you and your bakery all the time

Jason Voorhees :

He and his mom love your cooking so much

You two feed eachother all the time

Cupcakes are his favorite

In the au, your bakery is near the woods you two live in

He doesn't like you going away but he won't complain

Insists on helping you with the dishes after you're done baking

Hugs you from behind when you bake

He would help but he thinks he'll mess it up if he does

After stressing over the trespassers, the only thing that can calm him done is your baking

Bo Sinclair :

He goes to your job and starts flirting with you as if you two aren't dating

Like Billy, he also makes it dirty

"'Stead of 'em pastries ya make everyday, how 'bout I have you fer dessert 'is time" along with a wink

Unlike the others, he laughs at you when you hurt yourself

Then when you cry he actually starts to care

Buys you the products you need

"Why're ya makin' another cake? Ya a'ready got enough in tha back" also followed by a wink and an ass slap

Like I said, makes it dirty

He overall loves you baking

Candyman :

In this au, he lives with you and not in a mirror

Helps you bake everytime

For your birthdays and other occasions, he bakes instead of you

While you two wait for whatever dessert you're making to bake, he showers you in kisses, hugs, and slow dances with you

Praises you every time

If you wear an apron, he ties it for you and when he's done he gives you a neck kiss

Thinks his bees and hook get in the way when you're cooking but you shut that down pretty quickly

He feeds you and kisses you after each bite

Billy Loomis :

He smugges some ingredients (cream, frosting, etc) on your face

He does it so he can kiss/lick it off of you

Visits you at your job

Mainly visits you when it's near your break time

Last time he helped you bake, he burnt the dessert so uh never again

He just sits there lookin pretty watching you bake

One time for his birthday you made him a horror themed cake and when you cut it, red jam spills out the center like blood

He fell in love with you that same day

#thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt fluff #michael myers x reader #micheal myers #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #candyman #daniel robitaille x reader #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #fanfics #oneshot #headcanon #female reader #fluff

[bookshelf-dust]

i was made to love you

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @suledins

word count: 1,879

warnings: teeny bit of swearing (i think?), reader has some bad experience with romantic things/insecurities/trust issues, anxious habits (lip picking), anxiety/slight panicking, otherwise quite soft and comforting

a/n: well, hello! i haven’t written for billy since october (gasp), but i’m happy to say that i finally got some inspiration for him again and i am pretty pleased with how this turned out. that inspiration was courtesy of a few prompt lists i found! the first being from this list by @euthymiaaa and the second from this list by @creativepromptsforwriting !! both of those were extremely helpful in getting me back in the groove of things. please check those blogs out!! anyway, i hope you will find some comfort in this and that you’ll enjoy. happy reading!!! <333

————

“What’s the matter with you?”

Billy isn’t being mean when he asks you this. His tone isn’t cruel, but instead there’s a lilt to his voice, an almost desperate one. 

He’s asking you to talk to him. The way you’ve been standoffish towards him all day is freaking him out. Your lip is raw from how aggressively you’ve chewed at it, since you’d rather do that than voice your feelings.

But he can’t take seeing you act this way.

“Come on. The windows are gonna start rattling with how you’re bouncin’ your leg, babe.”

You stop on instinct, red-stained fingernails moving back to your bottom lip. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Billy. Just having a bad day.”

But that’s not totally true. Your day had been mundane at best. This feeling, your acting this way, had started when he’d shown up this morning, unannounced, with flowers in his hand. For you. 

Something inside you broke upon seeing him there, knowing he’d spent money on you, knowing that for some reason he was thinking about you. You can’t understand it.

Billy gets up from his place on the couch. His socked feet move across the carpet until he’s sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. His hand grips your knee. You can’t avoid him this way, and it frustrates you even more, because why is it your attention that he wants? 

“I know you better by now than to believe that,” he says firmly.

You can’t handle this. You sit up further on the couch and criss cross your legs so they’re out of his reach. You try not to notice the flash of pain across his face. You’re retreating from him and he doesn’t like it. 

“Why are you doing this, Billy?”

He blinks. “Doing what?”

“Bringing me flowers. Thinking about me. Wanting to spend time with me. Touching me, calling me those names. Why do you do all of that to me?” Your voice breaks over that last word and you exhale, hard. 

Billy’s eyebrows knit together. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stare at him like he’s suddenly grown a third eye. Like it should be obvious to him why doing all of these things is wrong.

You lift your hand and rub at your chest. “Because I’m me.”

Billy lets out a huff of a laugh, looking over his shoulder like there must be some hidden camera in the room. “Yeah, and?”

Your eyes water. “Can’t you see all that’s wrong with me? There’s so many other girls you could be spending time with. So many you could love or pamper. We’re not even together and you-you’re treating me like I’m special.”

You stand up, now short of breath. Billy stands with you. You keep rubbing your chest. You slip a hand under your sweatshirt and squeeze the soft of your side, leaving fingernail imprints in your skin.

He moves quickly across the floor, recognizing that you’re starting to panic. He takes your hand in his, but keeps your clasped fingers pressed against your chest, just under your collarbones.

“You are special. To me, you’re the only girl in the world,” Billy says. But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are glued to some spot behind his head. He presses his thumb to your jaw. “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes find his and he follows a tear as it makes its way down your cheek. “You’re the only girl in the world.”

Your eyes flutter shut and you pull away from him. 

“Th-this doesn’t make sense. I’m not the kind of girl that receives flowers or gets loved on or gets chosen. You’re my favorite person in the world, Billy, but I can’t possibly be what you want.”

He maintains eye contact with you, trying to understand why you’re behaving this way. Why you don’t believe his motives behind treating you the way he does. Like a princess.

You continue on, starting to pace. “My default is being a nervous wreck, Billy. I hate leaving the house, I don’t have any prospects, I’m not exciting…and I don’t have anything t-to offer you.”

And then it clicks.

Everything comes rushing into Billy’s mind, and he understands now, why you’re so confused, why you’re so afraid of the fact that he’s choosing you.

You’ve never had someone treat you this way. The last guy you talked to, the only guy you’ve talked to, wanted you first. But then you realized he wanted to talk when he needed something. You got attached and he took advantage of that. He dangled everything you’d ever wanted right in front of your face and then took it all away.

And now you’re trying to figure out why someone would want you.

The next words to leave your mouth snap Billy out of his stupor.

“I don’t deserve you.” 

Billy swipes a hand down his face, fingers traveling to the back of his neck where he tugs at his hair to keep himself composed. Nothing is more frustrating than having the best girl he’s ever known in front of him and she can’t even see a shred of the value she has. How good she is. 

He sighs. “If you think I am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you’re wrong.”

You stop moving and slowly step back towards the couch. Your hands reach out for the cushions first, like you need to steady yourself or you won’t be able to sit properly. 

This is the part where he’s supposed to leave. To lash out at you and say you’re too anxious, too worried. Thinking about the way those words have been said to you in the past makes you nauseous and your fingers rub at your stomach. 

Billy tracks the motion and sits back down on the coffee table like he had been before. You’re trying to wrap your head around this. 

You’d felt desired for a short time before Billy, and you’d felt special, having been treated like you were. But those features weren’t because of you and who you are, but because it guaranteed you’d be giving attention to someone else. Someone who fed off of that and needed it to feel satisfied. It was never because he really wanted you.

But now Billy does. 

“I’m sorry, Billy. I want to be able to accept that you’re doing all of these things because your intentions are pure and because you actually like me, it’s just that my mind—it can’t comprehend that just yet.”

Billy takes your face in his hands. They’re warm and calloused and big, and your eyes fill just from the feeling. 

“Don’t apologize to me. I understand where you’re comin’ from. But in all honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I bring you flowers and ask to take you out and buy you books and stay the night because I want you. I’ve never wanted to do any of that with someone before. I’m not doing it for my gain. But because you…you are worth all of that. I want to make you happy. You understand me?”

You blink, and Billy’s thumb swipes the tear away before it travels down your face. You start to nod.

“I understand. Can you just…” You lock eyes with him. “Be patient with me? I’m gonna have to learn how not to be afraid o-of this and I know it’ll be hard.”

Billy knows your emphasis on “this” means a potential relationship with him. One beyond the slightly-more-than-friends thing you’ve got going on now. If he’s honest with himself, the prospect of that scares the shit out of him too, because he’s never really done this officially either. He’s always been a hookup kind of guy. The few girlfriends he had never lasted long or had some lasting emotional connection. But he knows your life hasn’t been that way. You’re afraid for different reasons. Because you think he’ll slip away and that you’ll really be the version of yourself that you see on a daily basis. 

“Of course I can. I wouldn’t just give up on you because you’re kinda fucked up. That’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?”

The corners of Billy’s mouth twitch. You blink at him, winded at his attempt to make you laugh. 

He chuckles to himself, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture steals the breath from your lungs but makes you warm all over. You grab hold of his wrist where it still lingers near your face. Billy is drawing shapes on your shoulder. 

He relaxes his arm and lets you take his hand in your own. You drag your index finger along the lines crossing his palm in every direction.This is more entertaining than anything you’ve done in weeks. Your hand slides up against Billy’s until they’re lined up at the heels, and you push against him in an effort to convey that you want to raise them. 

Billy catches on. You’re trying to compare his hand to your own. He thinks it’s a silent way for you to communicate with him. Like your way of saying: I want this too. I care about you. You matter to me. 

His palm is so warm. Just like the rest of him. And his hand is much bigger than yours, enough so that you hold back a shiver. You want to be able to show Billy that you feel how he does. You want to be able to use those gestures as effortlessly as he does. 

So you lower your fingers until they fall between each of his. And then you’re holding hands. You give Billy a little grin, and he swears he could fucking melt. Seriously, the way you make him feel ought to be studied. 

To him, spending time with you, comforting you, talking to you about the hard things, learning who you are—it’s as easy as breathing. 

It’s like he was made for this. Everything up to this point has prepared him for you. He thinks that somehow, someway, he would’ve found you no matter the situation. You have always been it for him, even when he didn’t know it yet.

You take a deep breath.

I deserve this, you think. I deserve to be cherished and to hold hands. I deserve to let go and see this through.

“Maybe…maybe together we can learn to be a little less fucked up,” you finally say. “I could be easier that way.”

Billy squeezes your hand. “And maybe we’ll get more fucked up in our own special ways.”

That gets a quiet giggle out of you. Shit, he’s won the lottery. 

After a moment of peaceful silence, Billy leans forward, dipping his head down so he’s looking up into your eyes. His own are so very blue this close. With those little flecks of gold. 

“You deserve the world. I need you to know that. I don’t want anyone else. I want to learn you, inside and out. I want you with me. Is that okay with you?”

You look at him, at the way his curls frizz out by his ears, the way his freckles have faded because of the cold, the way his hand shakes when it leaves yours.

“That’s okay. More than okay.”

————

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

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fluff

[writethrough]

A Place to Land

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You told Billy you love him. And he knows it's time to break up with you.

Warnings: Minor language (I don't think I use the F word), angst to fluff, insecure Billy, drunk Billy

Word Count: 3495

A/N: I'm actually really proud of this one. I think I fixed what was bugging me about it a few weeks ago. Please let me know what you think! I also recognize this is not one of the requests I have in my ask box. I will get to those, but I am weak to the little gremlins controlling my hyper-fixations.

The day Billy realized he loved you, he knew he had to leave. It was only a matter of time before you broke up with him. He felt it when he woke up from nightmares, and you held him.

He felt it if he wanted to leave a party early because the crowds reminded him of how claustrophobic his mind felt under the Mind Flayer’s influence—he thought your frown was annoyance.

Your look of pity each time he didn’t answer you because he flashed back to that time killed him.

Before the Mind Flayer, he wondered why you agreed to that initial date with him. He was an asshole—so angry at everything. Angry at himself. What did you even see in him?

Your date had to be one of his favorite memories. He took you to see The Goonies, bought popcorn to share, and when he took your chin and turned you to kiss him, you waved him off after the third one. He would’ve been irritated; any other girl and he’d have considered the night a bust, but you were so invested in the screen that he couldn’t help his lips turning up. He wasn’t sure you realized you grabbed his hand at one point in your excitement at the film. Neither of you pulled away until it was over to gather your things. He had thrown an arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. And when you asked if he wanted to go to the diner down the street, a little jump in his stomach made him say “yes.”

It felt…nice…that someone wanted to spend time with him. Maybe he was interesting enough without sex.

He’d never laughed as hard as he did that night. You were funny and kind, sweet and smart—and dammit—the way you smiled at him? You were so goddamn beautiful. He was hooked.

Now, after the Mind Flayer—after he found out this wasn’t your first time dealing with that creature—he knew he loved you. He felt the beginning of it that first night. And that meant you would hurt him. That meant you would leave.

Exactly like his mom had.

But Billy was a coward.

The day he had decided to end it, he kept pushing it back. He had picked you up, and you smiled, and he thought, “Tomorrow.”

You were in the middle of a date, sitting across from one another, and he had imagined that smile turning into a sneer. He had been so close to blurting it out. Then, you giggled and intertwined your fingers with his.

Then, Steve invited everyone over for a BBQ. He had tackled you into the pool, and when you both emerged, you laughed and splashed him. He warned you with the biggest smile, and you started swimming to the other end of the pool.

Billy watched it all. And he felt sick.

It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t angry enough to be jealousy. It was like confirmation. One day, you could have this when you were no longer tied to him. If it was happening now, then it’d happen in the future.

He had to break up with you.

No matter how much it’d kill him.

—

He pulled in front of your house, barely getting out of the car before you were bounding toward him.

You were so excited to see him that you couldn’t even wait for him to reach the door.

He shook his head slightly. He had to do this, had to beat you to the punch.

“Hey, Billy! How are—”

“We need to talk,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

“Oh? What about?” You tilted your head, scanning over his tense posture.

He let out a slow breath. Just rip the bandaid off.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?” Had you heard him correctly?

“I’m breaking up with you,” he repeated, jaw clenched.

You took a tentative step forward.

“Billy, I—what do you mean? Are you okay?”

It didn’t make sense. You were attached at the hip yesterday; Billy couldn’t keep his hands off you, and now he wanted to break up?

What the hell was going on?

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets to hide his whitening knuckles. He didn’t trust himself to not grab hold of you.

“I mean, it’s over. I don’t love you.”

You furrowed your brow, inhaling shakily. “I love you, Billy. I’ve been telling you for weeks now. I know you haven’t said it yet, but that’s okay! I’d never pressure you into—”

He had to cut you off if he was gonna get through this.

“And I’ve realized I don’t love you. What? You gonna make me stay with you?” He wished he could get through this without looking at you, but then you wouldn’t believe him.

You’d be okay. You may hate him now, but you’d move on. And he’d never have to know the pain of you leaving him—of you having an everlasting disdain for him. This hate would only be temporary.

“...You know I won’t,” you whispered. “I’d never force you to do anything.”

He'd had enough of that his entire life.

He nodded. “Then I guess we’re over.”

He turned to walk back to the driver’s side, pulling the door open with more force than needed.

“I don’t believe you.” You managed to get out before he got in.

He stopped. His hand was on the car's roof but didn’t look up.

It gave you a bit of hope.

“I don’t believe that you don’t love me. I see it every time you look at me.” You sniffled. “I know you, Billy. You never would’ve been with me for this long—through all this shit—if you didn’t love me.” You wiped at your tears. “But if this is what you need to do, then I guess you have to do it. And I’ll still love you. That’s never going to change.” You took in a shaky breath. “So, when you’re ready, I’ll be here. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

He didn’t know how you could read his mind. But it had always been like that. You could anticipate what he needed before even he knew.

He wanted to run to you, to scoop you into his arms and apologize, but that nagging in his head wouldn’t stop. The image of you and Steve smiling and laughing. That phone call with his mother—Billy begging her to take him, too.

It felt like you confessed to him just yesterday—that warm feeling in his chest froze over.

You’d leave him eventually. Even if you didn’t think you would, he’d do something to change that. He’d ruin the best relationship he ever had, and then you’d be gone.

He blinked rapidly, getting into his car and speeding away. But not before glancing in his rearview to see the tear tracks streaming down your face.

—

It had been three weeks since Billy broke up with you, and every day your chest seemed to hurt worse. You had spent the first few days hopeful, convincing yourself Billy would be at your door any moment to apologize and explain why he did what he did. It didn’t fully sink in until the fourth day that he was serious.

You had arguments, of course, but Billy was always quick to remedy the situation. He didn’t like when you were angry with him. He said it put a pit in his gut because it reminded him of his anger toward his father. Even if it wasn’t nearly the same thing, Billy still hated the idea that you could ever loathe him that much.

But you didn’t hate him—could never hate him. You just wanted him back, but you didn’t know how to do that. You had called but either gotten Max or nothing at all. You had driven by several times, but Max and Billy weren't home, or he ignored you because—of course—he could tell it was you by your knock.

By week two, you were almost positive you had done something to him. However, you had no idea what. You played through every moment you spent with Billy, and the closest thing you could come up with was that you were a bit clingy. And even when you asked Billy about it, he said he liked it!

That was a few months ago, and he wasn't one to hold his tongue if something bothered him. It was one thing you loved about him. Even though it may come off as harsh—which he was working on—nothing ever festered with him. There was no chance of growing regrets.

You had barely gotten any sleep the past few weeks.

Lying in bed in one of Billy’s shirts, you tried to take your mind off everything with a book when the phone rang.

You sighed but got up to answer anyway. At this hour, it was either Robin or Steve.

“Hello?”

You waited a moment, no one speaking, and then a deep breath came through.

“(Y/N)?”

“Max?” You furrowed your brow. “Is everything okay?”

You’d spoken to her plenty since your break up, but she had never called you after ten. You gripped the phone tighter, ready to listen to anything she had to say, and hoped she was alright.

“I don’t…It’s Billy.” She waited for your response, and when you didn’t give one because of your surprise, she continued, “He’s been drinking a lot since your…since you know…and I’m worried. This is the worst it’s ever been, and I…I don’t know what to do.” She let out a shaky breath. “Can you please come over? I think he needs you.”

Your heart was in your throat. Part of you wanted to refuse. Billy ended things. There was no way he wanted to see you.

But the selfish part of you wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay, to maybe get some answers out of his inebriated state. Even if you didn’t want to hear them. So, you told her you’d be over soon. Not bothering to change, you threw on shorts and shoes and grabbed your keys.

—

You didn’t know what to expect when you arrived. Billy could hold his alcohol, but you didn’t know what frame of mind he was in. The fact that Max called you to begin with set you on edge.

You barely knocked on the door before Max ripped it open.

“Hey.” Her mouth pinched. “He’s in his room. He was…He turned off the music ten minutes ago. I’m not sure what he’s doing.”

You nodded. “...You said he’s been doing this since we…since he—”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what to do anymore,” she said.

You placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll try to figure out what’s going on.”

You weren’t sure if you knocked or not on Billy’s door. The thumping of your heart drowned out the taps.

His slurred “go ‘way, Max” made it nearly stop. Just how long had he been like this?

“It’s me, Billy.”

He opened the door faster than Max, eyes wide as he took you in, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were here.

“(Y/N)?”

The glassiness of his eyes made you want to pull him close and tell him everything would be okay. That whatever was going on in his head, you could face together.

“Is s’tha’ really you?” His knuckles brushed your cheek, testing to see if this was another daydream. And when he made contact, he breathed, “I miss s’you.”

Your nose tingled. “I miss you, too, Billy.”

A singular tear slipped down his face as he cupped yours.

“Hey,” you cooed. “It’s okay.” You wiped it away. “Everything’s okay.”

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m sorry. M'sorry…sorry…”

His shoulders shook, and he could no longer look at you, head hanging low.

You hushed him softly as you led him back into his room and closed the door. His apologies continued until you sat on his bed and pulled his head into your neck.

You brushed through his curls and blinked back your own tears. Never had you seen Billy like this.

He had gotten better at telling you what he felt but still kept a lot to himself. This…This was a sadness you couldn’t handle seeing in him. You wanted nothing more than to take it away—fix it—so you could see that brilliant smile again.

“I lo’you.” He burrowed further into you. “Love you.”

They were quiet confessions, but they held so much conflict.

You were relieved, almost ecstatic, but he was drunk. It might just be because you were here, comforting him.

In any other scenario, you’d be the happiest person alive. However, with every “I love you,” a knife seemed to lodge into your heart.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Everything’s okay. I forgive you.”

He squeezed you tighter in response. All he wanted was to be closer to you. Like that could erase what he had done.

With another kiss, you gently guided him away so you could meet his gaze.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?” You tucked a stray curl behind his ear, and he nodded. It seemed he was content to do whatever you said.

You helped switch his shirt to a clean one and handed him a pair of boxers, covering your eyes when he didn’t hesitate to remove the ones he wore.

“How’s that feel? A little better,” you asked, combing through his hair with your fingers.

He hummed, leaning in.

“Good,” you said. “I’m gonna get you some water and aspirin for tomorrow.”

When you went to pull away, his hand shot up to grip yours.

“Please,” his eyes were near watery, “please, don’t leave me.”

Maybe you were imagining it, but his plea felt like it held so much weight.

He was asking you to stay with him, to sleep beside him so he wouldn’t feel so vulnerable in an already vulnerable state. But it also felt like he was asking you to not walk away from him. That even though he broke up with you, he regretted it. And hoped you would want him back, accept him and all his mistakes. All his flaws.

Either way, the answer was the same.

“I’ll always be right here, Billy.” You squeezed his hand. “You get settled, and I’ll be right back.”

He slowly nodded, letting your hand slip from his.

And when you came back, Billy was on his side, facing the door, a space for you wide open.

Once you got in, he nuzzled into your chest, arms securely around you.

“Love you,” he mumbled, already half asleep.

“Love you, too,” you whispered, heart in your throat.

—

There were three blissful seconds of peace, of the comfort of an arm wrapped around your waist when you woke up. Then last night flooded back.

Billy drunk.

Him crying.

And saying he loved you.

And you had said it back even though you were afraid the next day would bring you more hurt.

He might not remember.

Or worse, he might not have meant it.

Looking up at the peaceful expression on his face pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.

He’d feel like shit today, so the least you could do was make him breakfast and ensure he was alright.

You had managed to switch positions throughout the night. He had held you like always.

You carefully slipped out and into the kitchen. And as you worked, you prepared for the worst.

—

The ache in his chest might’ve been worse than the one in his head. The sun hurt his eyes, and the cold spot beside him bit at his torso.

You had been there.

He couldn’t remember all of last night. But you had been standing outside his door. And the smell of your shampoo clung to his sheets anew. Back where it belonged. The day it had worn off, he had buried his face in his pillow, desperate for one part of you to still be with him.

But you weren’t here anymore.

He swallowed the aspirin, wondering if Max had put it there. Maybe she took pity on him and was making him breakfast.

The bacon made his mouth water. He just hoped she wouldn’t want him to open up about last night. He didn’t want to relive it, especially when you had left before he woke up.

He dragged his feet in the hallway, one hand grazing the wall with the other rubbing his eyes.

He would've plopped down at the table. He would’ve tucked his head in his arms and maybe drifted in and out until Max nudged him. Instead, he stopped and stared.

You were still here.

His heavy steps must have alerted you because you glanced over your shoulder and gave him a small smile.

“Morning,” you said softly.

“Hi,” he said, blinking once, then again.

You motioned for him to sit at the table, and he did without another word.

You hadn’t left him.

After placing some food down, you sat across from him.

He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t even sure he was awake right now. After everything he put you through, you stayed.

His mind was still foggy. Add that to the thoughts racing through it, and he didn’t know where to start. Thankfully, you spoke first.

“I miss you,” you whispered, hands folded atop the table.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I miss you, too.”

Without his notice, his hand had sought yours out, his fingers sneaking underneath to trace your palm. “I miss you so much.”

Your answering squeeze was like a switch—it made things brighter.

“I’m right here,” you said.

He nodded, not even trying to keep the smile at bay.

He believed you. Last night was proof. He was at one of his lowest points, and you had shown up—you had stayed.

Still, the smallest part of him had to hear you say it.

“Promise?” He locked eyes with you, pleading.

You took his hand in both of yours. “I promise,” you said. “I love you.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “I love you, too.”

You brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles, and he could feel your smile against his skin.

He needed you closer.

Tugging at you, he muttered a “come here,” guiding you onto his lap and pushing his nose into your neck, breathing into you. “I love you so much.”

You said it back, running a hand through his messy curls, then trailing your thumbs around his ears down to his jaw, holding him gently so you could kiss him. You wanted to savor every second of this. You had a lot to discuss, but right now? You just wanted to be with him.

His grip tightened as he returned the kiss.

He wanted to apologize again, to tell you how much he regretted what he said. Before he could, you looked at him as if you couldn't get enough.

“As much as I would love to continue kissing you, I’m starving. And you need to eat.”

He laughed, a genuine, full-fledged laugh, something he hadn’t done in weeks.

You tried pushing off his lap, but he wouldn’t let you budge.

“I’m just gonna get my own plate,” you said, giving him a quizzical look.

He shook his head. “Eat off mine.”

And with the contentment and hope on his face, you couldn’t argue. So, you swiped a piece of bacon, taking a bite as he kissed your shoulder.

"This mine?" he asked, pulling at the hem of your shirt.

"Yeah. I've kinda been cycling through all the ones in my closet," you said.

He hummed, a sullen look crossing his features.

"Been wearing your ring," he muttered, fishing out his Saint Christopher to show you the ring hanging on it.

You toyed with both pieces, rubbing your thumb over the face of the original, then set it back to his chest. You pressed your palm against his heart, and he placed his hand over it.

You leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes.

He took a sharp breath, then relaxed.

When you finally looked into his eyes, they held security. He trusted you. And he would continue to trust you with something he didn't trust anyone with.

As you ate, one of your arms stayed around his shoulders, sometimes playing with his hair or rubbing his neck. His stayed firmly around your waist, his fingertips grazing up and down your side, trailing further to your thigh.

It was perfect, this moment. Every laugh Billy brought out of you, every kiss you gave him, every word said; it was all a balm. He wasn’t completely healed, he knew that, but he also knew you.

You had reassured him, given him a place to land when he never thought that place existed. You loved him. And that meant you weren’t going anywhere.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things billy #stranger things billy hargrove #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #billy hargrove x fem!reader

[chr0llossexygf]

RIBBONS, CHEERLEADERS, EDDIE

PAIRING: eddie munson x fem reader

SUMMARY: eddie is surprised to see a hawkins high tigers uniform in a heavy metal shop. but he’s even more surprised to see it belongs to hawkins high’s golden girl y/n l/n.

WARNING: fluff sm sm sm fluff. THIS IS CO CUTE OMG!2:!:7: creds to the original gif owners! idk their @ cuz i find most of these gifs on pinterest and they aren’t linked :((

eddie walks the streets of hawkins with his hands in his pockets. he’s wearing his hellfire shirt with his jean jacket. his skinny black ripped jeans. it’s the same thing he wore last week on tuesday. but it doesn’t really matter.

he looks at the shops, none of them seem to fit his style and taste. not that there are any to begin with in hawkins. it’s a shit hole made for stupid suburban rich families. not for people like eddie.

in the midst of his little breakdown of how shitty the town is, one shop catches his eye. he’s never seen this shop before. he walks a bit faster. his eyes widen. slayer heavy metal shop? holy shit. holy shit.

his face brightens up. there’s no way. a heavy metal shop in hawkins? what the actual fuck? he stops right infront of it. he looks at the inside from the big glass windows. holy shit it’s sick. there’s everything there. t-shirts. vinyls. posters. cassettes. jackets.

his eyes travel around the shop. his eyes widen. he stumbles.a hawkins high uniform. a cheer uniform to be exact. he stares. your hair is up in a pony tail. a dark green ribbon tying it together. your wearing white knee socks with white sneakers. he recognises you. it’s y/n. what are you doing at a heavy metal shop?

he pushes the door open. you turn around, your skirt twirling with you. a smile on your face. “ e-eddie?” you blurt out in surprise. “ oh my would you look at that! you remember me!” eddie says his eyes wandering around the shop. you smile, “ yeah of course why wouldn’t i?” you say folding a motörhead t-shirt.

“ i’m surprised you remember me y/n.” he says flipping through a bunch of dio vinyls. you laugh. eddie walks around the shop, “ you know, i am obviously not the one to judge people but uh. what are you doing here y/n?” he says shoving his hands in his pockets. you turn around crossing your hands, “ what do you mean?” you ask tilting your head to the side with a smile. eddie laughs grabbing a mötley crüe cd. “ you know your a cheerleader what would you be doing in a heavy metal shop?” he confesses turning the cd around to look at the price. you giggle, “ what your saying is i don’t fit in?” you mumble smiling.

“ no no totally not. it’s just you know you dont-“ you cut him off. “ fit in? i know. believe or not i like heavy metal.” you giggle looking through patches. eddie walks up to the cashier leaning on it, “ so let me get this straight. y/n l/n the most popular cheerleader of hawkins high works at a heavy metal shop.”

“ correct.” you mumble turning to look at eddie. “ is that a bad thing?” you ask smiling.

eddie quickly shakes his head. “ no no no totally not. it’s just- your not what i thought you’d be like.” he says grabbing a metallica patch. “ mean and scary?” you giggle walking to the cashier. eddie tilts his head to the side, “ yeah well i actually kind of thought you’d be kinda mean and scary too.” you mumble biting your lower lip. eddie chuckles, “ i certainly look the part.”

you laugh. “ so do i, i mean i look like your typical mean cheerleader.” you joke biting your nails. eddie covers his smile with his hair. “ who works at a heavy metal shop.” he adds. you smile nodding.

you look at the patch he’s holding. “ i have that one on my jacket.” you say looking up at eddie. he giggles, “ you listen to metallica?” he questions quietly. you nod giggling, “ yeah i do.”

he smiles again. he’s surprised. and shocked.

and happy? your so easy to talk to. no one from hellfire is gonna believe him if he tells them he saw y/n l/n in a heavy metal shop. but he also doesn’t wanna tell them. he wants it to be a little secret between you and him. how is it so easy for you to make him smile. how are you so easy to converse with. he feels warm. really warm right now. he feels secluded from the world. and that’s a good thing right now.

“ then i‘ll take this one.” he hands you the patch. you look at his denim vest, “ do you want me to sew it on?” you ask looking back at him. “ oh i wouldn’t wanna steal your look l/n.” he whispers furrowing his eyebrows jokingly. you roll your eyes.

he takes off his vest placing it on the counter. “ i put mine on the right side. do you want yours on the left?” you mumble opening a drawer, grabbing a sewing needle. “ i don’t really mind.” he says shoving his hands in his pockets. “ i’ll put it on the right side so we can match.” you mumble smiling.

his heart just melted a bit. heat rises in his cheeks. his ears get warm. he quickly looks down hiding his face.

“ all done!” you exclaim looking at eddie, he looks at his denim vest. “ oh that’s sick.” he chuckles. “ you like it?” you question smiling.

“ yeah of course i do.” he says admiring the patch. you feel your cheeks start to heat up. you cough looking around the shop. “ it’s uhm- it’s for free.” you choke on your words. he looks at you in confusion.

“ your cool eddie.” you mumble playing with the hem of your skirt. eddie chuckles, “ your cool too y/n.” he whispers gently grabbing his denim jacket putting it on. “ so uh are we just gonna go back to not talking to each other during school?” he says putting his hands in his pockets. you giggle. “ why?”

“ because i’m a freak l/n.” he teases biting his nails, you look at his rings. “ so am i munson.” you giggle biting your lower lip. “ you know what- here.“ eddie looks at you.

you remove the green ribbon from your hair. your hair falls down.

eddie stares at you. you look so beautiful right now. your eyes are beautiful. your hair is falling in slow motion for him. time froze. he examines your face, your eyes are sparkling. your smiling. you have the cutest most adorable smile on earth. his eyes bore into you. he can stare at you for hours and hours and not get bored. something soft snaps him out of his trance. he looks down to see you tying the green ribbon around his wrist.

“ here. if your so sure we won’t talk to each other at school. or if u forget to talk to me, just look down at your wrist. there’s your reminder munson.” you giggle tying the ribbon.

“ you deserve a reminder too then. for when your too busy with the shooting balls into laundry basket weirdos. with your little pom poms.” he reaches for his back pocket, he grabs his black hankerchief. you laugh tilting your head to the side. “ what is it?” you ask smiling. “ your wrist please?”

you extend your wrist to him, he ties his hankerchief around your wrist. you blush again. he’s holding your wrist. and holy shit your skin is soft. so so so soft. he doesn’t wanna let go. he double ties it just to be able to feel your soft skin against his. “ there we go.” he chuckles.

“ oh that’s sick!” you exclaim looking at your wrist. eddie smiles. “ yeah? you think so?” he whispers gently. you nod smiling. “ then i’ll see you at school freak.” eddie says turning around . “ i’ll see you freak.” you laugh. eddie opens the door turning around to look at you once more. you wave. he waves back. “ gosh your adorable.” he mumbles under his breath turning around to leave.

#eddie munson #fanfiction #imagines #mike wheeler #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things 1 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #xreader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove #oneshot #stranger things 2 #netflix #smut #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington one shot #billy hargrove imagine #eddie munson x reader #angst #stranger things angst #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a (poly)ghost face where reader is masturbating in her room and they walk in on it

“well look what we have here,” billy said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

you froze, stopping your movements and hurriedly pulling your fingers out of your dripping cunt. opening your eyes, you saw your boyfriends standing near the doorway to your shared bedroom, still clad in their masks and robes and covered in someone else’s blood.

“i- i was just-,” you said, sitting up and attempting to pull the blanket over you, only to have it snatched out of your hands by stu.

he grinned at the slight panic that appeared in your eyes. “you were just what? getting off by yourself like a dirty slut?”

billy tsked and walked over to you, his eyes darker than usual. “you know the rules, baby. no touching yourself. it shouldn’t be that hard to follow, right?”

you nodded and tried to speak again to defend yourself when billy narrowed his eyes at you, causing you to fall silent. they had both walked over, practically towering over you as you lay there on the bed, almost cowering beneath them.

“what should we do with her, stu? the little brat just never seems to know how to listen.”

stu grinned, moving to sit down on the bed beside you, absentmindedly running his hand up and down your thigh.

“i don’t know, billy. maybe we should let her finish. i mean she seemed so close before we walked in. it’s only fair.”

your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that response in the slightest. were they really going to let you off that easily? it almost seemed like a trick. but your mind was too clouded and you were too desperate to care.

“alright then,” billy said, sounding almost like he was taunting you. “you can touch yourself.”

almost instantly, you hand went back in between your thighs, a sigh of relief falling from your lips as you started to bring yourself closer to the edge again.

“but you’re not stopping until we tell you to.”

i wrote it as a blurb, i hope that’s okay! i hope you like it, and have a great day!!

tags: @tatesxthumbring @imaloserbabysowhydontyourailme @evilcr0ne @hocksetterrs @cheyp420

if your name is crossed out, it means i can’t tag you!

#imagine #imagines #x reader #oneshot #smut #scream #ghostface #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis #billy loomis smut #billy loomis oneshot #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu macher oneshot #stu macher smut #stu macher imagine #poly ghostface x reader #poly ghostface #poly ghostface smut #poly ghostface imagine #poly ghostface oneshot #billy loomis x stu matcher

[accio-motivation]

'I'm not a queer', Steve thinks when Billy pushes his cock all the way inside.

He's not a queer because before he met Billy he has not even kissed another guy and he has always enjoyed having sex with girls. Right now he's just experimenting, it's nothing serious. And he can still say that he didn't like it afterwards.

Afterwards.

After Billy made him moan like a pornstar and beg for his cock like a cheap whore.

But Steve doesn't like it.

Doesn't like the way Billy's grinning down at him right now, all smug and hot, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead.

He looks like an angel and Steve doesn't like it, so he grabs him by the nape of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Just so he doesn't have to see Billy like this anymore.

Because Steve's not a queer.

He doesn't like it when Billy hits that one spot inside of him, that makes his eyes roll back in his head. He doesn't like that the feeling of being stretched open on Billy's cock makes him squirm and whine because he feels so full. So complete.

But he hates Billy, actually.

Hates him so much that he's leaving ugly red scratch marks on his tanned back, that will look absolutely terrible tomorrow morning when he has to go back to the public pool.

Hates him so much that he's burying his fingernails in the flesh of Billy's hips which will surely leave half-moon shaped marks. Because he wants to keep Billy close. Wants his dick even deeper inside of him. Wants Billy to fuck him harder.

And Billy does.

He presses one more kiss to Steve's open mouth before he straightens his back. He grabs Steve's thighs, spreads his legs even wider and increases the pace of his thrusts. Steve moans, in protests of course, and grabs the bedsheets with both hands, because Billy fucks like an animal and Steve thinks he's going to pass out.

He doesn't like it when Billy calls him his 'good boy'. Doesn't like how warm it makes him feel. Doesn't like it when Billy tells him how pretty he looks right now. How well he's taking his cock. How perfect he is for him.

Steve's going to come like that.

Billy hasn't even touched his dick yet but he's going to come. Can feel his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.

He reaches out and puts a hand on Billy's left pec. He lets his hand travel down to Billy's toned stomach where he can feel his muscles working under the warm skin.

Steve's not into guys but Billy keeps hitting that one spot perfectly and fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!!

He moans Billy's name.

Says a few things he's not proud of. Does a few things he's going to regret for the rest of his life.

And when he comes, it's hot and loud and intense.

It makes Billy groan. Makes him slam his cock so deep inside, Steve thinks he can feel it in his throat. And then he feels something warm filling him up and it makes his already spent cock twitch.

Steve doesn't like it when Billy pulls out and he suddenly feels a kind of emptiness he has never felt before.

He doesn't like the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs. Billy's cum.

Billy.

He flops down on the bed next to Steve. Breathing heavily. One arm covering half of his face.

He looks as tired as Steve feels.

Steve isn't a queer and he doesn't like Billy but he doesn't say anything when Billy's drifting off to sleep in his bed. Doesn't wake him up. Doesn't kick him out.

He grabs the blanket to cover both of their naked bodies. Has to move closer to Billy, so they both fit, he tells himself. So close that his head is resting on Billy's chest.

Billy's heart's beating fast. Like he ran a marathon. Steve wonders if his own heart is beating as rapidly when Billy carefully puts an arm around him, keeping him close.

He doesn't really care because he doesn't like Billy. And he doesn't like guys. Not in that way, at least.

And maybe that's alright.

He doesn't have to be queer to enjoy another person's warmth. Doesn't have to be queer to like being held. Doesn't have to be queer to like the feeling of Billy's soft cock against his thigh.

Okay, maybe he's a little queer.

Just a bit.

Just for Billy.

#Steve is only gay for Billy #he later finds out that he's bi #actually #he's mind-blown #harringrove #billy hargrove #harringrove oneshot #harringrove fic #bottom steve harrington #top billy hargrove

[sunny-mercya]

Sensitive Heart

Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Sidney had become quick to learn, that you're a rather sensible—if not even overstimulated sensitive—boy.

Most things; be it a large crowd, people accidentally bumping into you or someone saying something you had difficulty to understand—hell, even the most mundane compliment; you look really good today—brought you to tears.

And on some days, wether if they are bad or good ones, you would cry for an eternality of hours—exhausting yourself with a sore throat sobbing.

Throughout the school years, you had spend more time in the nursery office thanks to this—whatever and however it's called, Sidney doesn't bother to remember—than being actually injured.

Tatum, who had heard from Stacy—and she had it being told from Mackenzie, who had gotten told it from Helena—the nurses daughter—told Sidney once, that your over sensitivity of personality has been coming from your mother.

Your mother who had pampered you into a suffocating and constant anxious panic. She was a kind soul, with her off shrugging absently affectionate, but treating you well still.

Although, when you were at the age of ten—having been in the hospital again, because of your mother—your father had enough, filled a divorce and complete custody over you and told his ex-wife to leave.

So now, Sidney had to endure your tears filled stuttering jumble of words while accompanying you, yet again, to the nurse office.

Please god, she thought, end me. Holding back a groan, simply nodding along to what you're trying to say. If she's telling you to shut up, you would probably cry a flood then.

~~~

The cold wet washcloth always felt good over your burning irritated eyes. Cooling them off and bringing a sort of pain relief to them.

Mrs. Westbrock had left the office, after assessing you down onto the bed and giving you a glass of water and headache-pills. Nothing new, a normal occurrence for you to be alone—till school hours ended—in the nurse office, when you had another rather server breakdown episode. Then again, every episode brought you to the office.

»Aww, at this point you should ask the Director to let you live rent-free here« Stu did his best to lower his voice, when stepping in. Knowing well how headache prone you would get and he also knows how loud his voice can be.

It must be lunch break or a free period or study all, otherwise Billy and Stu wouldn't be able to visit you. Then again, you wouldn't put it pass them to just skip a lesson or two—and you knew they had done already more than once.

»What was it this time babe?« asked Billy, sitting down onto the chair. Someone would say his tone, when asking you this question, is coming off as annoyed, rude and tutting. It wasn't. It was Billys way of asking you how you are and what the cause was.

You shrugged at him, rubbing your eyes and sitting up a bit—letting Stu prep kisses onto your face.

»I.....don't really remember anymore.«

Billy hummed, knowing well it was lie of you, watching you and Stu, the both of you conserving now over some Cartoon.

»Did Jules brought you here?«

»Nu-uh, it was Sydney,«

Billy nodded, they all were somewhat friends with Sidney, though somehow she always seemed to be irritated annoyed by your mere presence—not that you took notice if it, always busy to greet everyone happily, even when it was hard to do for you.

»[Name]. Tell us, what made you cry.« a bit demanding harsh he sounded, but how would he know if Billy didn't use a dominant force to bring you to speak.

»It, it–it was, someone talked about–about how killing is, is–is something and I got upset over it, because they talked so causally about it, but killing is–is–is bad and taking–taking a humans life is cruel«

You broke into another, new, round of tears. Sobbing into Stu's arms, who cooed at you lovely and giving you sloppy kisses on the cheeks again.

Oh, how innocent sweet you are. Thinking so naively and thoughtful about the world. Aren't you adorable?

~~~

It was weeks after, when Sidney came to the conclusion that the ominous masked—dubbed as Ghostface—killer, who tried to killer her, is Billy Loomis.

Sidney, when she got the chance, pulled you into an empty classroom, cornering you. Doing her best to look as threatening as she could, to make you confess.

She always found it strange how Billy (and Stu) could love someone like you—someone who's a crybaby, skittish and meek in personality. Too Sensitive for a boy to be.

But then she thought, you're the perfect alibi for Billy or perhaps even someone who knows that Billy is the murder.

»You know Billy is the killer, don't you [Name]?«

»What? What are you talking about Syd?«

»It's Sidney. Billy is the killer and you're either good at pretending to play clueless dumb, which you are though, or you're his partner. There aren't any other options.«

Sidney hated it how you pronounced her name so dumbly wrong. It's a simple name, how hard could it be to say it right? Apparently hard enough for you.

»Accusing someone, a friend even, of something so horrific is a cruel thing to do.«

»Oh? I didn't knew you could speak english without stuttering in sobbing.«

Your lips begun to wobble, biting softly onto them to stop the starting trembling—which would soon racked through your whole body. Eyes getting wet, tears ready to spill.

Sidney had no rights to accuse Billy like this and neither had she the right to be this mean to you. You hadn't done anything to make her upset, so why does she say such things?

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, gripping your arm tight when you were about to bold off.

»We both know I'm right. Whether you like it or not.«

You freed yourself from her, jerking your arm out of her grasp and bolting out of the room. At some point colliding with Jules, who was looking for you, scrambling up again and running even faster away.

A lie. It's a complete conspiracy bullshitting lie, what Sidney had said to you. It wasn't true, Billy isn't a killer.

~~~

»I'm home!« greeted Billy once he had open the front door and stepped in, closing if afterwards. Getting out of his jacket and hanging it up on, he made his way towards the kitchen.

Leaning against the frame of the kitchen-door, Billy watched you, smiling at the sight of you cooking today's lunch—dancing slightly to the music which the radio plays.

»You need help, darling?« he admits, spooking you up like this was—the way how you jerked together into surprise—always a fun thing to do.

»Oh, Billy! How was work? Sure sure, you can set the table and please get Stu« you pecked his lips, when he leaned down, snatching a piece of bacon from the cutting board.

»Where is he?«

»Upstairs, doing the laundry.« you had long returned to the cooking, resuming with what you had stopped.

Billy passed through the living room, stopping at the commode in the hallway, next to the stairs.

Photo frames over photos frames filled the commode, telling their own stories—from their graduation, first house, to marriage, to their honeymoon and then to their Kids and their first kindergarten and school day to the here and now.

There was one photo in particular, which both Stu and him are very found of. It still confuses the kids, who couldn't figure out why a photo of you crying was a found memory to keep and share.

To the kids they had told a story of how they always found it adorable, just how bunny like you were and wanted to capture the moment.

In truth though, it was the moment when the broke you—your spirit of will—and had you forever to love.

It was after Sidney had inflicted your pure heart with self-doubt and questionable unbelief towards Billy. You confronted him, breaking out in hysterical when Billy bluntly admits it with a shrug and when you were about to call the police—Stu stepped in, holding you tight in his arms as you trashed in his hold and shouting words at them you never wished to say again.

They had to break a few of your bones, scaring and threatening you completely in submissive—because if they don't, you wouldn't be able to continue with going to school with them and enjoy life, if they didn't had done it this way—they had to kill you and that would be a shame. After all you're their precious little darling.

It took a few years—after framing someone else for their killings and making Sidney an implausible witness in the polices eyes—to shape you into what your are now; a good submissive husband, who showers them in unconditionally love.

»[Name]'s adorable, isn't he Bills?« Stu trotted down the stairs, flashing a grin at Billy.

»You're right, he really is. I was just about to get you, laundry-boy«

»Funny, man. Urgh, my back hurts. I never do laundry again«

After lunch, when the kids had retired into their rooms or going out to spend time with friends. You and your husbands sat on the couch, cuddling against another and watching another round of romance movies.

Even after all these years, you couldn't stop your sensitivity and the spilling tears from your eyes.

Billy and Stu wouldn't have it any other way. They adored you how you are, in their eyes you're perfect.

»Have I told you, just how–how much I love–love you two?« you asked them in between sobs, romantic movies always made you so moody.

»You do plenty of times, precious. We love you just as much in return.«

Both Billy and Stu pressed a kiss against your lips, tasting your salty tears.

You're their little bunny.

#male reader #x male reader #fanfiction #malereader #oneshot #scream 1996 #scream x male reader #scream #poly! billy loomis & stu macher x male reader #billy x stu x male reader #poly! billy and stu x male reader #billy loomis x male reader #stu macher x male reader #stu macher #billy loomis

[rainforest-daisies]

Day 13|Car sex

Character: Billy Hargrove x afab!reader

Tags: car sex, kinda exhibitionism, fingering, PIV, reader wearing a skirt.

A/n: kinktober is so stressful what..

kinktober masterlist

“C’mon baby, get on top of me.” his finger tips traced shapes on your thigh, feeling conscious of every move he made, closely watching through the windows, making sure it was truly an empty parking lot like he had promised. your eyes glazed over your panties discarded on the dashboard, sucking in a breath when his hand lifted from your thigh. “I don't know what to do.”

“It's okay, I'll show you. You trust me, don’t you?” Your head quickly nodded, goosebumps forming on your skin as his fingers lifted your skirt and his cold rings met your bare hip, pulling your body over the console, and pressing your thighs to straddle his spread legs.

Your back reclined against the steering wheel as his finger nudged at your slit, causing the car to honk, making you jump. Billy's tongue pressed against his cheek, chuckling against your neck, “Gotta be quiet, right hun? Don't wanna get caught today.” he softly bit the flesh of your neck, quick to soothe the pain with a kiss. ”unzip my pants for me.” your palm met his crotch feeling the hardness through his dark denim jeans. you did as he asked, unzipping and unbuttoning them, “Why don't you pull my cock out, hm?” again, you obeyed his orders, playing with the waistband of his boxers before pulling him out. his fingers pressed into your cunt, wetness sucking him in with ease, guiding your hand to stroke him.

“You ready, baby? You ready for me?” your head quickly nodded, whimpering when his fingers left your cunt, but pleasure filled your body as his wet fingers rubbed against your clit, pushing his dick into your cunt, groaning at the feeling of you clenched around him. The constant stimulation of your clit was catching up to you, chest heaving with every circle he rubbed, “I'm getting really, really close. Don't stop, please.”

“That's a good girl. get real close for me.” your hips hesitated their moves, but Billy quickly put a stop to it. “I'm not afraid of a mess, baby. cum on my dick.” your cunt clenched around his cock, holding the back of his neck as his fore and middle fingers rubbed your clit. your orgasm was white-hot-pleasure, praising the fact that the windows were somewhat fogged up as his fingers trailed up your navel, making their way to your lips, as he shoved them into your mouth.

His other hand wiped a single tear that left your eye, overstimulation making a sob leave your lips as you gagged around his digits. “shhh. yeah, ride that cock.” his hands ground your hips against his, whispering so you could just barely hear him, as if you were even listening.

His body began growing impatient, thrusting himself into you, making whimpers fall from your mouth. with a loud, bellowing groan, his seed spilled into your wet pussy, gasping against your shoulder when your body kept bouncing after his body relaxed.

“Woah, woah, calm down, hun.” his hands grabbed your hips again, holding your body flesh against his pelvis.

“You keep moving like that, you're gonna get me hard again.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things #x reader #smut #kinktober