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generalfoolish · 1 year ago

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It Never Changes

By some merciful providence, Hope awoke the next morning with a far milder headache than she had any right to. She’d lost track of the amount of liquor she’d knocked back by the time she and Hancock had stumbled out of the Third Rail, yelling drunken revolutionary chants at the night sky and giggling like children whenever someone on the street echoed one back. He’d walked her across Goodneighbor, stepping back once they reached her door and sweeping off his hat with a ridiculous bow which nearly sent him toppling to the pavement.

It had taken every ounce of self-control she had not to grab him by the coat and pull him into the elevator with her.

She played out that fantasy in her imagination later, phantom lips dragging along her neck in the shower, his body pressed against hers as she slipped into bed.

It was just the liquor, she lied to herself.

The sun was just beginning to stain the clouds a pale pink through the morning fog as she checked and double-checked her backpack, folded Daisy’s dress neatly, freshened herself up one last time, then descended with Dogmeat in the little elevator to meet Hancock at the gate. He was already waiting for her, leaning against the barricade with Fahrenheit and smoking a cigarette. He waved as she approached. Hope returned the wave, ducking behind the curtain into Daisy’s store to quietly deposit her dress on the counter, a note of gratitude folded on top. When she emerged, he was stooping down to lift his pack onto his shoulders. Hope had assumed he’d be the type to travel light - to take a gun and a chem stash and not much else - but not only was his backpack much larger than hers, he also had an empty duffel bag rolled up and strapped to the side.

“Have you packed half the chems in Goodneighbor into that thing?” asked Hope.

Hancock chuckled. “I’d need a way bigger bag for that.” He gave the straps a tug. “More like a brahmin. Or a herd of ‘em. Nah, this is just shit for the road. With a bit of the fun stuff to spice it up,” he added, with a wink.

“Sounds exciting,” said Hope, grinning. “You ready to go?”

“Sure am.” He nodded to Fahrenheit. “Try not to let this place burn down while I’m out, yeah?”

“Less chance of that with you gone.” She pulled a shotgun slug from her pocket and tossed it at him. He caught it deftly.

“In case you need it,” she said, walking away. “See ya ‘round.”

“See ya round,” he replied, tucking the slug into an inner pocket. He turned to Hope. “Well, then. Let’s get this freak show on the road.”

“What’s the story with that bullet?” asked Hope, as the neon sign of Goodneighbor receded into the dawn fog. They were heading northwest to Oberland Station, taking the riverside route out of Boston at Hancock’s suggestion, skirting the city along the bank where it was easier to spot a potential ambush from a distance.

“This one?” Hancock withdrew the slug from his pocket, flicking it into the air and catching it with a flourish before tucking it back away. “Ya know, I’ve never asked. Bet if I did, she’d spin some bullshit about me turnin’ feral, but we both know that ain’t what it is.” He smiled. “Don’t need to be said, really.”

Hope recalled a rough hand reaching down to her with a lit cigarette. The same hand which had drooped lazily from a couch to scratch Dogmeat behind the ears, right where he liked it.

“She seems a lot sweeter than she lets on.”

“She is, but don’t let her hear ya say that,” said Hancock, leaning into Hope like he was telling her a secret. “She likes bein’ big and scary.”

Hancock popped open a tin of Mentats as they walked, taking two before holding it out for Hope. She took one, enjoying the salty-sweet flavour as it fizzed on her tongue, each bubble tingling her awake as the chem entered her bloodstream. A sense of alert clarity washed over her, tuning her ears to each metallic groan of the buildings, along with distant voices and more-distant gunshots.

A few minutes after they reached the riverbank, Dogmeat stopped dead in the road, his hackles rising with a low growl. Hancock threw out a hand in front of Hope, pausing to squint through the fog at the outline of a footbridge ahead of them. He motioned her over to the shadow of a building. Hope followed, unslinging her rifle and peering down the scope. Large, hulking shapes were moving through the mist.

“Super mutants,” she said, lowering the rifle. Hancock withdrew a shotgun from a holster tucked somewhere beneath his coat.

“How do ya wanna play this?” he asked.

“I’ve got a revolver for close quarters, but when I’ve got cover and range,” Hope patted her rifle, “I like to snipe.”

“Great, ‘cause I like doin’ the exact opposite.” Hancock grinned, a slightly fierce edge to his expression as the adrenaline of combat began to hit them both. “I’ll go cause some chaos with the pup up close, you pick ‘em off.”

“Sounds perfect.”

When Hancock said chaos, Hope realised - as she knelt in the shadow of a building, picking off the silhouettes of mutants between shotgun blasts and the flash of grenades - he meant it. The brutes were so distracted they didn’t seem to realise bullets were hitting them from more than one direction. Hancock’s much smaller shadow wove through the fog and the hulking figures as Hope aimed for headshots, dropping any which seemed to be coming at him from behind. She was so focused on that, and on keeping count of how many she’d taken out, she failed to notice the one running at her until he was almost on top of her.

“Shit!”

The brute had a huge bat with rusted nails poking from it in all directions. She rolled to the side as he swung it down, dropping her rifle and reaching for her pistol as he hefted the bat again with a roar. She sucked in a breath, scrambling back - then the mutant’s vast chest exploded in a spray of blood and viscera. The creature fell to the side, revealing Hancock, shotgun raised and a wild grin on his face. He strode toward Hope, tucking the gun away.

“Now that was fun!” He extended a hand, pulling her to her feet. “Damn, you were poppin’ em off so fast, I could barely get a shot in.”

“From where I’m standing, you just saved my ass,” she said.

“Nah, I shouldn’t have let him get that close in the first place. Slipped the net.” Hancock kicked at a great, green arm with the toe of his boot. “If you’re snipin’, it’s my job to keep ‘em off ya. But hey, we’re both still breathin’.”

“We’re both breathing, and we made a pile of dead super mutants,” said Hope. “And the sun’s barely even up.”

Hancock laughed. “That’s what I’d call a damn good start to the day. Come on, let’s book it before the chaos attracts anythin’ else. Super Mutants never have good loot.”

He turned to look at where Dogmeat was tearing at the exposed flesh of one dead mutant, his muzzle stained red, and laughed under his breath.

“Unless you’re real hungry, I guess.”

The fog had cleared by the time they reached the outskirts of Boston City, the denser city making way for trees and a cluster of ruined houses. Hope had just suggested picking through them for anything the settlers at Oberland might find useful when the teeth-tingling clatter of a Vertibird reached their ears, growing louder at surprising speed.

“Fuck! Brotherhood!”

Hancock dragged her into the side of a building as the machine swooped overhead, filling the air with a horrendous clamour which set Hope’s nerves on edge immediately.

Even before the bombs, Vertibirds rarely meant anything good.

Especially before the bombs.

Hancock usually wore his billowy white shirt open at the chest, but now he was frantically buttoning it up as high as it would go. Then he pulled off his hat and swept his hair forward to cover more of his face, before placing it back on his head, tilted low. Hope heard the heavy clang of the Vertibird depositing someone wearing power armour, then voices moving through the wrecked houses as the aircraft retreated. She put a hand in the bristles of Dogmeat’s fur as he growled softly.

“Do you think they’ll attack us?” she said.

“You? Nah. Me? Flip a cap.” Hancock grimaced. “They don’t always murder us on sight, but they sure as hell ain’t fond of ghouls.”

Hope clenched her fists, her jaw tensing. Some things were apparently perennial, apocalypse or not, and it infuriated her that stupid, violent prejudice was one of them. She motioned for Hancock to stay put, then peered around the building they were crouched behind.

“There are three of them,” she said, pulling back. “One in power armour, two in some kind of uniform. They’re just picking through the houses.”

Hancock breathed out sharply through his nose. “They’re no better than scavvers and raiders, for all their fuckin’ airs,” he said. “Think we can sneak past ‘em?”

“I think so,” said Hope. “They’re moving further into the houses. Let’s just walk. Stay behind me. You don’t look very… ghoul-y from a distance, and if we pretend to be harmless travellers, maybe they won’t pay us any attention. There’s an empty little shack just down the road, we can bunker up there until they’re gone.”

Hancock nodded, rising to his feet with Hope and staying one step behind her as they passed by the group. As predicted, they were too far away and too occupied with their task to pay more than a cursory glance toward a pair of travellers and a dog. The moment they were out of sight, Hope picked up the pace, making for a small shack with stands of dried, long-since-rotted vegetables out the front. She waved Hancock through.

“Used to know the guy who ran this place,” he said as he entered. “Guess he ain’t around anymore.”

“Oh…” Hope paused, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry.”

Hancock toyed with a cigarette box, his eyes downcast. “It’s alright. He was old. Got more years than most. Still… gonna miss droppin’ in when I pass by.” He took a cigarette and lit it, then walked over to a locked door at the back and fished a bobby pin from his pocket. “He told me once that if he dropped off the perch, I should take whatever I wanted from back here.”

The door clicked open to reveal a small chem lab tucked behind the vegetable stall. Hope joined Hancock in fishing through drawers filled with a variety of raw materials, liquids and rotting fungi. She had to muffle a shout of excitement when she pulled open one to find a dozen glass jars filled with Daytripper.

“Ooooh, jackpot!” Hancock leaned over her shoulder to take a bottle, shaking it. “These are homebrew, but ol’ Doug was damn good at it. I know some pre-war ghouls who swear it’s as good as the original.”

“I’d be surprised if the pre-war stuff could even get you high after two-hundred years,” said Hope. “They’d lose potency if you so much as left them in a hot car.”

“Which is exactly why these are better,” said Hancock, winking at her. “You don’t have to eat the whole fuckin’ bottle. Let’s take ‘em all. Waste not, want not.” He opened his bag and began packing the little bottles into it. An idea occurred to Hope, dangerous and enticing.

“Hey, Hancock. I followed the train line down from Tenpines to Oberland. Same route we’re taking back up. Aside from a few wild dogs and some feral ghouls, it was pretty quiet and actually kinda scenic. Be a nice route for some Daytripper.”

The smile which spread across Hancock’s face could light a city. “You’re speakin’ my language, sunshine,” he said, his voice low and warm. “I’m keen. Word to the wise, don’t take too much on the road. Gotta have your wits about ya… just in case.”

“Oh, I’m well practiced where Daytripper’s concerned,” said Hope, grinning.

“Well then,” rumbled Hancock. “I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

The clanging of power armour had receded far enough into the distance that Hope and Hancock were both keen to move on rather than use the shack, its air musty from the rot of the vegetables, as a lunch stop. Hancock lingered quietly at the threshold for a moment, hat held in his hands.

“Rest in peace buddy. Thanks for the gift.”

They walked a little ways further into the forest, stopping at the rail bridge where the road met the train line. Hope dug through her bag, withdrawing some jerky and a jar of what seemed to be tato chutney. Hancock contributed some sharp brahmin cheese and a tin full of crackers - made from razorgrain, apparently - to dip in it. If Hope squinted a little, their lunch was almost like a charcuterie board.

Almost.

“Can you tell me much about these ‘Brotherhood of Steel’ people?” Hope asked, between mouthfuls. ”Nick seemed to think they were bad news as well.”

“Yeah, he would… they’d scrap him for parts. They’re bad news for pretty much everyone, and worse news if you’re not human.” Hancock paused to shove a chutney-laden cracker in his mouth. “They ain’t been seen in the Commonwealth for decades - not in force, at least - but travellers bring news and none of it’s great. From what I’ve heard, they’re some kinda… religious military cult obsessed with collectin’ pre-war tech. If that means rippin’ it outta vaults or settlements, well… too fuckin’ bad for those folk. They say they’re gonna to use it to rebuild civilisation, but everyone knows that’s a load of bull. They’re out for power.”

Hope’s appetite abandoned her.

“You’re saying they could attack settlements?”

“Maybe not attack ‘em, but they’ll expect to be ‘given’ whatever the fuck they ask for.” The look on his face told Hope this ‘giving’ was not likely to be optional.

“You mentioned they hate ghouls…” she said, darkly.

“They hate all non-humans. Ghouls included.” Hancock pulled a face. “Not like that’s anything new. Ghouls ain’t exactly welcome in a lot of places.”

“For fucks sake, why?” Hope threw her head back. “It never changes, it’s always something. It’s the colour of your skin, or the shape of your eyes, or your fucking political beliefs.” She sighed. “Every ghoul I’ve met - well, aside from Bobbi - every ghoul I’ve met has been perfectly nice.”

“You’ve met feral ghouls, haven’t ya?” Hancock’s voice was quiet.

“Yeah, but-”

“That’s why.” He turned to Hope, meeting her blue eyes with his black ones. There was a deep pain haunting them, and when he spoke, his voice was heavy. “A lot of folk see a ghoul, and all they see is a monster that could turn feral any second. It’s fear. It’s also a load of bullshit - ghouls don’t turn feral all of a sudden, it’s a process - but it’s still what plenty of folk believe. At least, it’s what they say they believe.” He laughed, bitterly. “Some people just like hatin’ everyone that’s different.”

Hope was quiet for a long while. There was steel in her voice when she broke the silence.

“I need to get the warning out, make sure every Minutemen settlement has somewhere safe for ghouls to hide if the Brotherhood show up.”

Hancock’s brows shot up. “Wait, you have ghouls in your settlements?”

Hope nodded. “It’s part of the agreement. Any settlement that wants ongoing Minutemen protection is obliged to offer safe harbour to anyone who needs it, and a home for anyone willing to pitch in and help. That includes ghouls.”

Hancock was very still for a moment, wearing an expression of wonderment. “...I could kiss you.” His voice was wobbling. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in years.”

“Much as I’d love to take you up on that,” said Hope, with a flirtatious smile, “it was Preston’s idea. I hadn’t even met a ghoul yet, feral or otherwise. You’ll have to kiss him.”

“Shame, doubt he’s as hot as you,” Hancock chuckled. “Think he’ll settle for a thank-you bouquet?”

A vision of Preston’s baffled panic at a bouquet-carrying Hancock attempting to land a kiss on him flashed into Hope’s imagination, and she snorted with laughter.

“Yeah, I think he’ll settle for that.”

First Chapter

Chapter 6

Chapter 8: COMING SOON

#chem break

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generalfoolish · 1 year ago

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Confidant

Baby Billy Freeman x Reader

Summary: Reader is Billy’s pseudo agent, they’ve known each other their entire lives. When another job falls through for him, she is the only one who stays around.

CW: drinking, drunken sex, oral f!&m!receiving, baby billy never shuts up lol, SMUT

a/n: I finished Righteous Gemstones in less than a week and I am IN LOVE with it. As someone who was born and raised in Tennessee, I will have to fight myself on the Southern-isms I put into this. also sorry I don't really proofread.

~~~

“Of course fucking Eli convinced Aimee-Leigh not help at all! I was counting on HER to make this work,” he threw some notebook across the room, “Fucking bullshit! Eli Gemstone has always had it out for me! You know that, ever since he met me! Never gave me a single chance!” He gestured towards you in his frustration. You sat quietly nodding in agreement.

Baby Billy Freeman, a childhood star alongside his sister now washed-up preacher. And you, a girl raised just a few roads down from the Freeman Ranch, growing up alongside Baby Billy and his sister, Aimee-Leigh. You were friends before stardom, along with becoming somewhat his Agent in adulthood. You knew the ins-and-outs of his life. And here you were again at the end of another harebrained scheme that fell through. One thing about Baby Billy: he would do anything for some quick cash.

"Goddamn Gemstone and their stupid church!" He stomped his foot and ripped pages up. This is how he coped. He could not ever admit he was wrong so he had to go through his list of people to blame. Eli, Aimee-Leigh's husband, usually at the top of the list.

He paced around your living room. His face almost as red as the Marlboro crewneck he wore. Hands going straight to his head, eyes wide. You could see his mind racing.

"Such a fucking loser! I am talented! Eli is just plum ignorant! All he cares about is being on top! What about underdogs like us? Every bit of missionary work he does is so he looks good to the public," Billy walked in circles around your living room before plopping down onto the couch directly next to you.

His face rested in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. Frustration painted his body, embarrassment that he had failed once again. He groaned into his hands.

You stared at him not sure how to comfort him. In all your years of knowing him, you knew he really just needed silence and for him to talk himself through it.

He reached one of his hands out to you, placing it on your exposed thigh. His other hand still holding his face, eyes not yet looking at you. “In all my years, you’re the only one who’s stuck by me, sweetheart,” he grumbled into his hand, the other rubbing your skin.

“Of course, Baby Billy,” you swallowed hard, “I believe you’ve got a talent that needs to be shared with the world.”

He looked to you slightly, “Yeah… That’s right. You have impeccable taste.” He flashed a white smile at you. Timidness painted the smile you returned. He slapped your thigh lightly, springing up to his feet. He exclaimed a holler.

“Where do you keep the liquor in this place?” He walked over to your cabinets rummaging through them. You joined him, opening up your liquor cabinet pulling out some tequila.

His eyes widened at you, “You keep the good stuff hidden from me don’t you, dollface.” You giggled at him. Grabbing two shot glasses, you poured the first round for both of you. He grabbed his off the counter, toasting you, “Here’s to us.” You clinked your shot with his, throwing it back. Billy sucked his teeth, “GodDAMN that’s good stuff. WHOO!” Warmth rose to your cheeks, an instant flush on your face. “Gimme another one of those,” he gestured with his glass. Both of you threw back another shot. Warmth melted down your throat. “We’re gonna have a great night tonight, Y/N,” Billy’s freehand went to your hip. You melted as he pulled you flush against his side.

You make cocktail after cocktail for Billy as the night got later. His cheeks buzzed with the alcohol in his system, a goofy grin painted on his face. He kept on and on about how one day the world would appreciate his talents. About how Eli was a “motherfucker with that church’s thumb shoved so far up his asshole he should be able to see God.” You agreed with everything he said. Drinking at a crawl compared to how quickly he put it down.

You sat together on your couch. Your legs rested across his lap, his hands resting on them. You both laughed drunkenly at something. Billy ran his hand up your legs, getting highly close to the warmth that had been brewing on you for hours. He leaned in closer to your torso.

He hooked one of his hands under your ass, pulling you closer into his lap. You stared into each other’s eyes. “You’re too good for me,” he smiled.

You blushed, “What do you mean?”

One of his hands went to your cheek, “No woman would stick around a man like me this long without a ring on her finger. Let alone one as dedicated as you. Always trying to book me gigs, staying up late to help me rehearse, cheering me on…” He smiled looking at you. “You’re a real gift from God, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you at my side,” he pulled you closer and planted a kiss on your lips.

“You’re drunk, Baby Billy,” you laughed shyly.

“Not too drunk to know you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had in my life,” he kissed your neck. You placed your hands against his chest, pushing him to look at you. His hooded eyes stared into yours, pupils blown with lust. “You just want to get laid,” you tried talking sense into him.

“No,” he protested, “No-No. If I just wanted to get laid I’d go down to the strip joint and have one of those bimbos hop on my cock. I’ve been stupid to not see what I’ve had in front of me for this long.” He leaned closer, his lips attaching to your neck again. You could not deny the arousal pooling deep inside you, your cotton panties growing soaked with each kiss on your skin.

“Come-Come on, Baby Billy. You and I b-both know you-you’re just trying to drown out your—“ a moan escaped your throat, “Drown out your sorrows and I-I’m just the clo-closest woman you can get t-to.” You stumbled over your words as he continued kissing your neck. His lips made their way up to your ear, “If I was looking for a quick pick-me-up I would be out drunk fucking some whore off the street. Don’t be so hard on yourself, darlin’.” His gruff Southern drawl was like honey dripping down your skin.

Maybe he really did want you. Maybe he really had just been blinded by his need for stardom that he never even considered pursuing you. He was praising you like you’d never been praised before.

Your hands went into his hair, leaning your head back to give him better access to your skin. “Atta girl,” he encouraged, his hot breath against your neck. “Baby Billy is gonna take care of you now. Real good care of you… all night,” he trailed his kissing down your collar, resting where your shirt laid. You felt him breathe out against your skin, a smile painted his face. You looked at him, your skin hot to the touch. He swatted at your exposed thigh, “Hop up on my lap now. Ole Baby Billy wants a better look at you.”

You readjusted to be straddling him. He admired you slack jawed. His hands ghosted down the sides of your body, stopping on your hips. “Good ole liquid courage, helping me realize what a good thing I’ve had right in front of me,” he chuckled. Billy’s hands pinched at your shirt, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded shyly. Billy hooked his fingers under your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side. His eyes scanned your chest, a wide grin painting his face. “That sure is a pretty lace set you’ve got on,” he licked his lips. His hands cupped your breasts, squeezing them. His thumbs danced over your hardening nipples through the bra. You could see how laser focused he was on your chest. His ever growing erection becoming more obvious by the second against you. He placed his hand between the fabric and your breast, pinching your nipple ever slightly. You rolled your eyes at his touch, enjoying any attention he would give you. His lips found the exposed skin of your breast, kissing and biting at it. His hand pulled your breast out from your bra, lips quick to attach to your nipple. Sucking on it momentarily. A soft moan left your lips, causing Billy to smile against you. “You like my mouth on you, don’t you? Love those pretty noises you make, doll.”

You rolled your hips against his groin. Billy groaned against your skin, tightening his grip on you. His attention was now on your face, staring deeply into your eyes. His hand caressed the back of your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth clanking together. Moans and grunts being shared between you.

“I’m gonna fuck you senseless tonight, girly,” he growled into your mouth. You smiled, pressing the weight of your body into him. His back was flush against the couch now as you began kissing his neck. Billy threw his head back, his Adams Apple bobbing with each breath he took. His hands danced up your body, small praises falling from his lips. His fingers went around your back fidgeting with the clasps of your bra. He unhooked your bra, pulling the straps down your arms. Once fully off, he took it and threw it to the side. Wide eyes stared at your bare chest.

“My, my,” his hands grabbed your breasts, “I think God may have put the most beautiful tits I’ve ever seen on you.” He palmed at your skin, your nipples becoming hard at his touch. “Fittin’ perfectly in my hands and everything,” he smiled up at you. Your skin was red hot as he laid compliment after compliment on you. Every touch sending lightning through your body, pooling in your ever growing arousal. You adjusted your hips, feeling his erection directly against your soaked core. A slight moan escaped you.

Billy’s hand traveled down to your shorts, running two fingers against your clothed folds. You closed your eyes taking in the slight friction he gave you, your legs shuddering slightly. “So fucking warm, darlin’. Bet you’re soaked under them daisy dukes,” he stared at your body. He admired you. A gorgeous woman straddling him. His cock was begging to be released from its confines.

You stepped off his lap, receiving a dissatisfied whine from Baby Billy. You began removing your shorts painfully slow in front of him. Billy smiled when he realized what you were doing, spreading his legs to enjoy the show. Your shorts pooled around your ankles revealing the matching lace thong you wore. Billy’s head fell slightly to the side, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. You spun around for him quickly, letting him take you in before walking over and kneeling in front of him. His brows raised quickly, eyes unable to leave you. You began with the button of his jeans, slowly pulling his zipper down. His hand slipped down his jeans, pulling his clothed cock out. You salivated at the sight of his tent. You wanted him badly, wanted him inside you anyway he was willing to give it. You doed your eyes up at him.

Billy bit his lip staring down at you. You ran your hands up his thighs, stopping them beside his erection. You leaned down placing an open mouthed kiss on the still clothed member. Billy’s breath sputtered, rolling his neck and licking his teeth. Finding your way inside his boxer-briefs, you pulled out his cock. It sprung up at you. You gawked at it for a moment, eyes completely blown with lust. Tip swollen and leaking pre-cum, a vein on the underside popping out. You licked a stripe up the underside, placing a kiss on the tip. Billy moaned loudly, his hips jolting at the contact.

“You sure do know how to get a man fired up,” he chuckled lightly, breathless. You took him into your mouth quickly, causing his eyes to spring open. He sat up slightly, his cock going deeper in your mouth. Desperate hands found your hair, tugging you up and down on his member. He held you in place at the base, your nose resting on the hair surrounding his cock. Gentle thrusts came from him, his eyes squinted shut and head thrown back. “God gave you a gift! Goddamn! Y/N, sweetheart— Jesus Christ,” he moaned hardly able to find his words. Sweat beamed down his face, his clothes growing tighter on his body the more you went down on him. “You look so good with my dick shoved down your throat,” he praised looking you in the eyes.

His hand caressed the underside of your chin as he face fucked you. “Get up,” he insisted. You sucked off him with a pop of his cock. A shaky breath escaped him. You both stood before one another. Billy began removing his own clothes, his crewneck the first thing to go. Your hands found the waistline of his pants, helping him undress. He was quick to plant a kiss on your lips, his hands grabbing your face.

You admired his lightly toned body. How covered in sweat he was, watching as his chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took.

He stepped out of his under garments, pushing you back onto the couch. He was on top of you, his lips never detaching. They found their way down your neck, traveling lower and lower down your body. He kissed right above your panties, smirking up at you, “This pretty thing for little ole me?” You nodded, encouraging him. His large hands spread your thighs apart. Your panties were darkened from where you had soaked through them. His eyes widened at the sight. A toothy, white grin painting his face. Two of his fingers played with your opening, pressing your panties into it. You rolled your hips with his touch, moaning his name. “Ooo, sound real pretty like that,” he praised. Lips found your inner thighs, biting and kissing the soft skin. A slight shake decorated your legs. Anticipation weighed on you. His finger began making circles on the covered nub. Electricity jolted through you.

Fingers hooked around the thin strap of your underwear. He guided them down your legs which now rested on his shoulders. His breath sent chills up your body as it hit your aching core. Black eyes stared at your exposure, “This has got to be the sexiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Your hand found his hair, running fingers through it. He looked up to see your face painted with need. A need who knew how to fill.

His mouth attached to your throbbing clit. Your head threw back, his name a complete scream on your lips. You felt him moan into your cunt, his tongue working absolute magic on your lower half. Fingers interlocking with his hair, grinding into his face. A knot in your belly began twisting tighter and tighter. If he continued like this, your orgasm would wash over you shortly.

He pulled away abruptly. Rising to his feet, stroking his cock as he stood above you. You stared at the member in his hand. "I'm gonna fuck you now, pretty thing," he huffed out with a grin. His weight fell into the edge of the couch with his knees, propping your legs on each of his shoulders. He positioned himself, easing his way inside your sopping entry. He stared down where he entered you completely slack jawed. You squirmed and moaned his name loudly. "That's it. You take Baby Billy so good," he breathed out. He fully sheathed himself inside you, taking a deep breath and looked into your eyes. Your eyes were hooded as you stared up at him. He pulled back, nearly removing himself completely before thrusting back into you.

He began a relentless pace with you. The sound of skin smacking echoed through your entire home. It was completely euphoric for you both. You had never had someone this good. His cock perfectly filled you up, stretching you just enough.

"Darlin', you're so fucking tight," he groaned, "You squeeze my cock perfect." He bent one of your legs, his fingers finding their way to your throbbing clit. You were seeing stars when he started rubbing circles against you. You called out to him, your head falling back into the couch. You felt the coil inside you ready to spring free.

"Baby Billy, I'm gonna cum," you cried out.

A wicked grin came across his face, "Please, pretty girl. Cum on Baby Billy's cock." He picked up his pace working you to your finish. Your walls fluttered around his cock, practically milking him. He moaned loudly as you finished around him. Your orgasm pushed him over the edge. His thrusts grew sloppy. He shot ropes of cum inside you. Continuing thrusting making sure to get every drop inside you. He leaned his head back with a loud groan.

Gently, he laid your legs back down, his cock slipping out of you. Remnants of him spilled out of you. He leaned down on top of you, smiling and placing a tender kiss on your lips. Scooping up what had spilled out, he placed two fingers inside you. Aftershock from your orgasm caused you to pulse around his fingers. "Wanna keep that in there," he kissed you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling up at him. He had worked your body perfectly. You enjoyed the softness between you both, how he kissed all over your face and neck, whispering praises about how good you were.

"I hope you recover quick, sweetheart," he chuckled, "Baby Billy wants to go all night with you."

That went straight to your core.

"Gonna have you filled up like a fucking boston creme donut when I'm done," he whispered into your ear, kissing your neck.

A fun night was ahead of you.

~~~

END

[Thank you for reading! If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me! All tag lists are open! I have a master taglist and one for each character!]

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@anamelessfool ~ @vaultdwellingghoullover ~ @ivyinthesun ~

#if there are no baby billy fans im dead

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