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#billy hargrove oneshot
queers-gambit · 13 hours
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Talk Shit, Get Hit
prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 5.4k+
note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.
warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.
PLEASE NOTE -
this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.
DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.
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Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.
However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.
The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.
Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.
Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.
And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.
It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.
You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.
He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.
Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.
He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.
So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.
That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.
You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.
However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.
It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.
Today simply hadn't been your day.
After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.
Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.
However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.
As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.
Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.
Keyword: most.
Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.
Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.
You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.
"The fuck you want, Brittany?"
"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"
"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."
Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."
"Excuse me?" You snapped.
"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."
You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"
"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"
"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."
"Excuse me, what?"
"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."
Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."
"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."
Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."
"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."
She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.
You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"
Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.
Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.
"FIIIIIIGHT!"
"GIRL FIGHT!"
"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"
Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.
In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"
"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"
He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"
"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "
Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.
"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"
He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).
Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.
"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.
"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.
"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "
"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"
"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.
"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"
Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"
"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.
However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"
"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.
Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.
"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.
"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"
"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."
"Might be."
"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"
"It doesn't matter, Billy."
"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."
"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."
Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"
"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."
"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"
"Well, you're not even letting me try!"
"'Cause it's redundant!"
"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"
Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."
"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"
"I told you, they approached me."
"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."
"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.
"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."
"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."
"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."
"There's no point - "
"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"
"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."
"I'd like to understand how this happened."
"It won't change anything."
"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"
You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."
"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."
Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.
"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"
You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."
"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."
"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."
"Right, okay..."
"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."
Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."
"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."
"We'll get you outta it."
"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."
"You said she swung first?"
"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."
"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."
You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."
"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."
"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."
"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."
"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"
"Nah, they'll probably find you - "
The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.
"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.
He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.
"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.
"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."
"No?"
"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."
"See? That's good, huh?"
"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."
Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."
Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."
"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."
You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."
"Something else happen?"
"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."
"You reported your mom?"
"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."
Billy frowned, "Jesus."
"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."
"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.
"What about Neil?"
"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."
"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."
Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.
When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.
You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.
"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.
"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.
"No, but I could've done more."
You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"
"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."
"What good would that do?"
"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."
"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"
"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."
"You already do, baby."
"Let me do more, princess."
"You can't fight every battle for me."
"You could let me try."
"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."
"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"
"I wouldn't know."
"Never had a boyfriend before?"
"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."
"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."
"Ain't no other choice."
"You could let me in more..."
"You're one to talk."
He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."
"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."
"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."
You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."
"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."
"You're so romantic."
"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."
You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.
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thewritingofamadwoman · 4 months
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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! 💙
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“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.
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writethrough · 1 year
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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.
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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.
3K notes · View notes
rafescurtainbangz · 3 months
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Fine - Billy Hargrove One Shot +18
Minor DNI
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2k
Billy Hargrove x female reader
Based off of an ask by @billysbot :
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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.”
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bookshelf-dust · 20 days
Text
i was made to love you
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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!
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rainforest-daisies · 6 months
Text
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
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“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.”
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steph-speaks · 7 months
Note
low key cant form this into a decent request so pls brainstorm with me. dom billy falling in love with a girl hes hooked up with regularly. i want some filthy smut ???? maybe he likes spitting on her ????
Sex On Fire
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WC: 6,001
Warnings: NSFW obviously, Minors DNI, maybe some minor dom/sub dynamics, smut, creampie, spit kink, masturbation, use of toys, manhandling, some edging. Lmk if I forgot anything!
Author's Note: love this idea tbh, especially if he's the one to fall first. Never hesitate to send me your thots lol <3 This is just a one-shot btw, not really planning on writing a second part, but if anyone finds inspiration from this, have at it!
What started the whole thing was the idea of a quid-pro-quo situation. She wanted some experience but didn't just want to give her first time to some random guy, and for Billy, the thought of catching something from the girls at school gave him the heebie-jeebies.
He hadn't really wanted her at first, though. The idea of fucking a virgin didn't appeal to him like it did to other guys. They wanted someone pure, untouched, and he wanted someone nasty and kinky. Someone without so many reservations.
But seeing your pitiful expression when he turned you down made the gears turn in his head.  He sighs, running a hand over his face.
"I think I probably know the answer already, but do you have any toys?" He asks, glancing around the outdoor rec area where students could hang out if they didn’t want to sit inside for lunch period. He doesn't particularly want anyone hearing him have this conversation at school. 
"Toys? Like...a vibrator?" You mull over his words as you raise your legs up on the picnic table to rest your chin on your knees. "No, but what does that have to do with anything?"
He takes a cigarette out of his jacket pocket before he takes the denim off, laying it across the table. The sun’s high enough in the sky that it’s beating down on him, and he doesn’t feel like sweating until it’s time for gym. 
“You live down the road from me, right?” He ignores your question in favor of asking one of his own, lighting his cigarette with practiced ease, one hand shielding the flame from the breeze. 
“...Yeah,” You raise a brow. “At 4824. Blue siding.” 
He puffs on the Marlboro, leaning his head back as the nicotine settles into his throat. “Open your window at eight-thirty. Don’t be late.” 
<3333
He climbs in, surprisingly quiet for his looming size (though you suppose it's because of his countless sexcapades and sneaking around with girls that gives him that advantage), and hands you a black shopping bag. You sit on your bed and open it curiously.
“Where the hell’d you get one of these?” You pull out a box that has a crude cartoon picture of a dildo on the side. Now you understand the discreet bag. 
“There’s a little shop out of town that sells all kinds of shit.” He explains absently, looking around your room. It’s different from most of the rooms he’s snuck into. You have shelves of books lined up, all stacked as neatly as can be, with a few plush animals displayed here and there. You also have some tiny action figures that he’s ninety-nine percent sure is from Star Wars, or maybe Star Trek. You have polaroids of you and the Henderson kid, with a string bracelet hanging off the corner of one of the picture frames. 
The photo shows you riding piggyback on him, though it looks like he’s about to fall from your weight. The both of you are laughing, hair a mess and dirt covering your outfits. Billy notices a similar string bracelet on Henderson’s wrist. 
“And what’s this one?” You pull out a smaller box with no images on it. 
He gestures smugly. “Open it.” 
You set the bag down and do as you're told, pulling out a little oblong plastic piece that’s attached by a cord to what looks like a remote. 
“Vibrator?” You ask, turning the remote over to see little buttons that indicate speed. You set it down in your lap. “I know you’re trying to help, but how is all of this supposed to give me experience?”
He pops the gum in his mouth, looking you and your surroundings over again. Your bedspread is plain and lovingly worn, and even though you have a tube of lipstick on your vanity, it’s the only makeup he sees and he doubts you use it very often. 
You have homework set on your desk, looking completed, and he gets a very clear picture of what kind of person you must be. Not necessarily a goody-two-shoes, but you’re certainly someone who doesn’t put herself out there that often, and he knows that the way girls talk can’t be all that different from how guys talk. You’ve probably heard some of your friends talk about kissing, maybe feeling their boyfriends up and indulging in some heavy petting. You’ve definitely heard about sex itself, if your proposal was any indication. 
You feel left out of the loop.
He supposes you could have gone to Harrington, given the fact that you’ve known him for longer than you’ve known Billy, but the fact that you came to him instead fluffs his feathers. He instantly wants to rub it in Harrington’s face. 
“I’m not gonna pop your cherry,” He says, crossing his arms as you look up at him. “Well, not really, anyway. You’re going to do it yourself.”
Your expression is downtrodden. “What do you mean, not really? Am I really that repulsive to you?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic. I am going to fuck you, but you have to use these first. And you can’t just do it all in one night.”
You don’t say anything, making him sigh in exasperation. “Okay, look.”
He sits next to you, shoulders bumping as he takes the vibrator parts from you. “Not to brag, but I’m bigger than average, okay? I can’t just…stick it in all willy-nilly, it’s gonna hurt.” He gestures to the little plastic pieces and then grabs the dildo box from you. 
“You have to work your way into it. Use the vibe first, like around your clit,” He doesn’t notice the flush that’s creeping its way up your neck as you listen to him, or if he does, he doesn’t mention it. “Then you use the dildo.” 
“And don’t,” He emphasizes as he shakes the box, rattling the contents. “Force it. For the love of God, do not force it. Take a little bit at a time. If it hurts, stop.”
He hands them back to you but jerks them back when you try to grab them. 
“Don’t. Force it.” He says sternly, making you smile wryly as he lets you take them. 
“Got it. Nice to know you’re looking out for me.” You tease quietly. He snorts and picks up the bag and takes out the last remaining item, a bottle of water-based lubricant. 
“This is just in case,” He explains. “Some girls don’t get as wet as others, and there’s nothing wrong with that, they just need a little extra help. Or sometimes they just like the way it feels. Just put down a towel if you’re going to use it, it’s messy as hell.” 
He hands it to you as you look all of the goodies over. “And make sure you wash all that, before and after you use it.” 
Your big eyes soften. “How much do I owe you for this stuff?”
“Don’t worry about it,” He dismisses as he stands up, making his way back to the window. “Just take your time, and tell me when you’re ready. Besides,” He pauses with a sharp grin when he’s halfway out and straddling the sill, his jeans tight over his ass and giving you a nice view. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.”
<33333
You don’t use them that night, or the night after that, or the night after that. It’s too embarrassing. The fact that Billy Hargrove went out of his way to get you these things, these very intimate things…you can’t quite wrap your head around it. 
But one day you see him from across the hallway as he’s putting stuff in his locker, and he catches you looking. He shoots you a wink that no one sees, his buddies too busy conversing about some new muscle car on the market, and you don’t know what it is about him and the stupid curls that fall over his forehead that make you want to see what other expressions you can get him to make, but it psychs you up and it’s all you can do to get through the rest of the day without him on your mind. 
When you get home that day, you thank every deity you can think of because your mom is working late according to her little note on the fridge. You don’t even bother trying to eat dinner, opting to instead rush up to your room and lock the door, pulling the stuff Billy gave you out from under your bed. You do as he suggested and go into your little private bathroom to wash both items in hot water and non-fragrant soap, trying not to think about the smooth silicone in your hand that you’re inadvertently stroking in the same way you figure most people would stroke a regular dick. 
This is so stupid. You think as you grab a clean towel and yank your blankets back in a rush. Stupid, stupid, stupid—
You set the things down on the towel and strip, settling back against the pillows. You fiddle with the lube and pour a drop on your index finger, testing the feel of it against your thumb. It feels weird, you know that much. It slides over your skin, feeling oily but not at the same time. You catch a slight whiff of strawberries and look at the label on the bottle. It turns out to be flavored lube, though you wonder why anyone would want something like that. 
Setting the bottle aside to experiment with later, you lay back again, turning the vibrator piece in your hands. It’s an obnoxious neon pink color, a hard plastic that has the cord running out of one end to the remote. You hesitantly click one of the buttons to turn it on, nearly jumping at how powerful the vibrations are.
You wince when you place it between your legs, the buzzing feels (and sounds) forceful, so you turn it down before trying again. You’ve indulged in a little foreplay before, just not with this kind of stuff. You tease your clit and end up melting into the pillow at the instant wave of pleasure that shoots up your spine when the vibrations are flush against your little button. 
“Oh!” You whimper to yourself. Your hips naturally start to gyrate into the same rhythm that your hand rubs the bullet over your clit, and you feel your entrance starting to become slick the more you chase your high. You’ve never gotten yourself to feel this good this quick with your own fingers and it actually scares you a little. No wonder these things were popular. But if this is how a toy feels, how would normal sex feel? Would it amount to this? Would it be worse? 
You half want to see what the bullet feels like inside you, but the thought of dragging it away from your clit makes you want to whine. The more you shift on the bed, the more desperate you become. You feel like your orgasm is building up and after steadily grinding your hips against your hand and the vibrator for what feels like forever, searching for the special something that makes stars burst behind your eyes, you feel like it’s right there. 
“Mng…oh wow, that’s so good,” You moan. “Want more…” 
You’re not begging anyone in particular, but the thought of someone else holding the reins of your climax seems to help you along, little shockwaves curling in your abdomen and turning into the tight spring of an orgasm. You pant with exertion and start to sweat as you press the vibrator harder, but you’re so wet from being on edge that it slips past your  folds. You cry out as your orgasm fades instantly even though you try again to rub it over the bundle of nerves, but it’s not the right angle this time and you feel tears start to well at the corners of your eyes as ecstasy gets further and further away.
“No,” You cry softly, bare feet digging into the pulled back comforter in desperation. “Shit!” 
You shut the thing off in frustration and half think about throwing it across the room, but then you remember that Billy spent his money on it and the—
Oh.
You look at the nearly forgotten dildo that’s still perched next to you on the towel and you feel your core clench at the sight. It’s not as bright as the vibrator, actually, this is “flesh-colored”. And the more you look at it, the more you think you want to try it, even though Billy warned you not to push it. 
Billy Hargrove. The boy you were going to eventually lose your virginity to, if everything went according to plan. You run your fingers over the life-like veins in the silicone, and find yourself wondering if he’s just as big. It’s enough to be intimidating, that’s for sure. 
Before you can chicken out, you grab the lubricant and squirt a generous amount along the length of the dildo. It feels greasy, but as you place it between your legs and lean back again, you think that might be a good thing. 
You turn the bullet on again as you adjust yourself, the head of the other toy nudging against your entrance while you try to find the best placement for the vibrator. You find it eventually, with your other hand grasping the base of the cock. You only push the head in, and even that feels big. You want to take more but you opt to listen to Billy’s instructions, content for the moment to flex your wrist into tiny little back-and-forth movements while you press the vibrator down. The combination of the two working in tandem brings you to another peak, leaving your mind hazy and desperate. 
“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck—” In your excitement you accidentally push the dildo further inside you, just a tiny bit, but the feel of it stretching you out feels otherworldly, and stars burst behind your clenched eyelids as you fall over that edge. The long, drawn out moan you let out sounds like it’s from someone else, and you have half a mind to be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you to care. It just feels too fucking good. 
You squirm as the vibrator starts to overstimulate you so you shut it off, panting as you manage to take the toy out and lay back to catch your breath and stare at your ceiling. 
Holy mother of God, You can’t help but think as you let out a little breathless laugh. I want to do that again!
<333333
Billy doesn’t press you to hurry up, which you’re grateful for, but it’s also part of the reason why you feel embarrassed to tell him you’re finally ready. If he’s not in a rush to fuck you, does that mean he doesn’t really want to? 
You practice every night, imagining him between your legs, pistoning into you just like the dildo. It sounded good in theory, until you realized that he was the only one you were imagining. You tried picturing other people, even women, but you can’t come without fantasizing the feel of his body, the huff of his breath on your cheek, the piercing blue eyes that would look down at you as he folded you in on yourself, using your body to chase his pleasure…
It all comes to a head when you manage to catch Billy after gym class on a Friday. He was always the last one out of the showers, plus it was the last period of the day for most, so it’s easy for you to slip into the boy’s locker room unhindered. He’s in the process of putting his jeans on when he catches sight of your sneakers as you lean against the wall across from him. 
“Thought you got scared off,” He says, adjusting his locker door to look in the magnetic mirror on the inside. He musses his damp hair with no particular regard for how it looks or the fact that it was dripping over his shoulders, little wet rivers running down his torso and back. 
You shrug, your lip quirking at the corner. “You don’t scare me, Billy Hargrove.” 
He chuckles as he takes a T-shirt out and pulls it over his head without bothering to dry off completely. “No?”
“No,” You lean your head back as he comes closer, towering over you as he props a hand up next to your head. “Not really.” 
His lashes are still wet, too, you notice. He’s close enough that you can smell the body wash he used, sharp and musky. You can also see the freckles that are dusted over the bridge of his nose, something you’d never noticed before. 
“Not really, huh?” He murmurs. “Not scared of this, either?” 
He takes your wrist in his grip and directs your palm to the front of his jeans, right over where his dick would be, making you jolt. He spreads your hand over the bulge, watching you swallow and laughing softly at your startled expression. 
“Well, maybe a little,” You admit softly. His brows twitch in amusement. 
“That’s normal,” He drops your hand and you’re quick to pull it back to your side. It’s not that you don’t want to, just that you weren’t expecting it. “Just as long as you’re comfortable. Are you?”
You nod wordlessly and he passes his blue eyes over your face, so you muster up the courage to reassure him. “I am.”
He hums, looking away from you momentarily. “Alright. Well, we can either go to my place or I can sneak into your room again. Your choice.”
“Um,” You nearly say yes to going over to his, but think better of it when you picture being caught by his parents. “We can stay at mine, my mom’s supposed to be working the overnight shifts at the hospital this weekend.”
“What time does she leave?” He looks back at you, down to your lips, then down to the striped shirt you’re wearing that’s tucked into your jeans. He wonders what you’re wearing underneath them, makes him smirk.
“Seven-thirty.”
“Be there at eight, then.” He pushes himself away from the wall. 
<333333
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting—actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly what he was expecting. A night filled with slow movements, half-assed reassurances, and possibly getting hassled into cuddling post-sex. That’s probably the part he hates most of all. 
What he doesn’t expect is for you to be so nonchalant about the whole thing, in spite of the way you had reacted earlier. 
“What are you doing?” He asks, confused as you make him sit down on your bed. 
“What I want,” You say as if it were obvious, as you move to stand between his legs. He’s still clad in his clothes from earlier, but it smells like he put on some cologne, and his earring is flashing in front of his curls. He’s got his denim jacket on, too, despite the warm, summer night air. “This isn’t about you, remember?”
He doesn’t have a chance to say anything before your mouth is on his and he’s gripping your hips, covered by your sleep shorts. He feels you move to straddle him and he lets you, hands wandering as he follows your lead, surprised as he is. 
You grip the back of his neck and nibble on his lip, both of you panting into each other’s mouths as you let him squeeze your ass. Feeling another body against you, moving with you in tandem…it’s better than what you fantasized about. 
Clothes are eventually tossed all over the room and positions are switched, and he’s surprised, yet again, when the only sign of trepidation he sees is you swallowing as he lowers his body to nestle in between your thighs. 
“Practiced like I taught you?” His voice is low and husky as he palms at your breasts, squeezing just firm enough to get you to breathe out a sigh. 
“Yeah.” You tilt your head back when he slides against your folds and reaches down to guide himself into you, making you gasp. 
“Good.” He says. “Shouldn’t hurt too bad, then.”
His dismissive sarcasm should piss you off, and it does a little, but he feels like velvet covered steel as he keeps pushing forward, stretching and invading your every sense, and you’re grateful he suggested the toys because he feels huge. He’s only slightly thicker than the toy but it doesn’t hurt. Just feels like there are pleasurable tingles emanating from your center. 
If this was what sex felt like, then now you knew why all your girlfriends were so into it, why so many of the girls at school were so desperate to count Billy as a notch in their lipstick case. 
You whimper when he’s fully seated inside of you, elbows braced beside your head. His curls are a soft curtain against your face, and he flicks his head to get them out of the way, but you don’t mind. Even when he rolls his hips without asking you if you’re ready, you don’t mind. His necklace dangles down and tickles your clavicle as you slowly relax with his steady pace, thighs pressing into his naked hips. 
“Alright?” He breathes heavily, blue eyes nearly glowing in your low lamp light. 
“Mng!” You gasp after a particularly hard thrust, your hands searching for something to grasp onto, eventually settling on his biceps. “Y-yeah, I’m good.” 
He chuckles and brings a hand to your face, thumb hovering over your bottom lip for a second before he decides to trail it down to your neck, hand nestled just underneath your jaw. He doesn’t press, just keeps a firm, steady placement. 
You moan when he sits up and uses his other hand to drag your leg over his elbow, leverage to pull your body harder in time with his thrusts. He wrings an orgasm from you and doesn’t stop, even when you arch off the bed. He groans when he feels you clench down on him, and he pulls out to flip you over on all fours. 
It’s honestly a long night for him, and you. You end up liking it even more when he makes you straddle him again, this time with his back against the headboard. He can feel you soaking his cock from how many times you’ve come, and he’s surprised every time when you still opt to grind your hips against his, even when you're breathless and panting. 
“Fucking Christ,” He grits out. “Can’t get enough of it, can you? Gonna give me one more?” 
He squeezes the flesh of your ass as he forces you down at the same time he lifts his hips, jostling you until he gets the tell-tale sign that you’re about to come. Your voice gets a little bit higher, your moans a little more forceful, until you’re cresting over that edge and you go silent for a split second, and then he’s got to pull from your body to draw his own climax out or else he’s going to create a problem neither of you need. 
“...Shit,” He groans as he fists his cock, quick back and forth motions as you manage to sit back between his open legs. He looks at the mess he’s made of you, of your pussy that’s slick and covered with your own release, of your heaving, naked breasts and your open mouth, and then he’s spilling over his own hand with a long, drawn out growl. 
“Fucking hell,” He pants, blinking at your blissed out expression. 
You giggle breathlessly as you brace your hands behind you on the bed. “Are you surprised?”
He scoffs as he tries to catch his own breath. “Yeah, I guess. Fuck!"
You sigh as you lay back on the bed, hair spread out like a flowing halo. He thinks you look like a porn star, seemingly completely comfortable with laying naked across your bed when most girls he’s been with usually tried to reclothe themselves as soon as the deed was done. 
He fishes a strip of gum from his discarded jeans in lieu of a cigarette, though you could bet he’d probably indulge in one of those just as soon as he was clear of your house. 
“I’m going to take a shower,” You say, but you make no moves to get out of the bed. “Or you can go first if you have somewhere to be.”
He watches as you roll over and nuzzle into your fuzzy comforter, bare ass jiggling with your movements. He reaches over and smacks it, making you gasp and laugh.
“Billy! I didn’t say you could do that,” You tease, wiggling around anyway. His eyes roam over your body, over the shadows that accentuate the dip of your spine and the curve of your hips. 
He grins as he blows a small gum bubble, getting up from the bed and making his way to the shower with his jeans in hand. “I do what I want, baby, get used to it.” 
You laugh and shake your head as he disappears into the bathroom. 
<3333
Your little situationship continues well past the end of the school year and into the summer months, and Billy’s still surprised at how often you want him. Everyone else just assumes you’re a really quiet young lady, a wallflower—and for the most part, you are. 
But you’re also the most insatiable little thing he’s ever had in his bed. You’ve asked to try so many new and different things—positions, kinks—you name it. He’s spent money on soft cuffs—that was a definite yes from the both of you. You had even asked him to slap you around a little but he’d been the uncomfortable one at that point. He didn’t want to disappoint you, so he’d tried, but it made him think of Neil and he’d nearly gotten sick when he saw your eyes well up, though he hadn’t hit you very hard. 
You both decided that from then on, the most he could do was some rough manhandling—maybe some spanking—but that was it. It was a good trade off, no harm done. 
He thinks he’s discovered yet another kink you want to try, but you haven’t said anything to him about it yet. Whether you’ve hit your threshold of how open you want to be or he’s misinterpreting it—he doesn’t know. It definitely turns him on, that’s for sure. 
He’d taken you to Lake Jordan, citing the fact that Lover’s Lake was overrated and held little to no privacy from other young adults, which was true. 
Jordan wasn’t very popular except for the suburban dads that liked to fish in the early hours of the morning because it was further out of town, and also because it wasn’t easy to get to. You had to walk down a tiny dirt trail to get to the dock; it wasn’t accessible any other way. 
You’d scuffed up your Keds that night when you’d tripped on a branch, and you’d have probably twisted an ankle if Billy hadn’t caught you. 
You laugh breathlessly afterwards, and he feels a twinge of disappointment when you pull away from him, the smell of your perfume wafting after you and permeating his jacket. It invades the pores and tiny little cracks in the leather, something he only realizes later, when he’s alone in his bedroom and he can still smell it. 
A good two hours were spent out there, on the dock. Legs dangled off the wooden edge, the full moon casting a white glow over the lapping water. The sound of crickets, frogs, and the occasional owl were the only things that filled the air, something Billy was grateful for. He liked big cities and loud music, but back in California, it had been difficult to find any sort of quietness. There was no reprieve from the sounds of honking horns, casino slot machines, even the roaring of the ocean waves when it became too much. 
Sitting here with you versus alone, that also made him grateful. He found your sarcasm—your cleverness—refreshing. You never interrupted people, just observed, and noticed more things than you probably should have. He’d discovered that you were the kind of person to not say anything to a waitress if she got your order completely wrong, you’d let an excited kid cut in line at the snow-cone stand, and you would always have a spare five bucks for someone who was begging on the corner of the street for change. 
Billy Hargrove had fallen in love with you. When he thought about it, he’d run a hand over his face and go about his business to try to forget, but he couldn’t. Shit was too fucking hard, and he didn’t know what to do. 
So he’d brought you out to Lake Jordan to tell you he didn’t want to fuck you anymore. He was going to lie, tell you he found some other chick that was better, until the words stick in his throat and he feels like he’s going to choke on them. 
Because nobody is better than you. No other girl had gotten to know him—and his body—as well as you had. They only wanted to be able to brag to their girlfriends that they screwed the most popular guy in school—not that they could prove it. And up until you, Billy had gone along with it and let them. If he was seeing a shrink, they probably would have said something smart about bad habits and self destruction-something-or-other. 
And not only that, he’d let slip at one point that the random bruise he’d sport from time to time wasn’t from a fight with another classmate, but from his father Neil. But instead of treating him like he’d expected you to—again, ruining every expectation he had of you—you had just slipped your hands in his hair and had kissed his forehead. Like you cared. 
He’d been extra rough with you that night, as rough as he could be without making you cry. He didn’t know if it had been to convince you that he wasn’t some weak twig that couldn’t take care of himself, or if he was trying to convince himself he wasn’t the broken shell Neil wanted him to be. You hadn’t said anything sympathetic after, just a soft brush of your fingers on his temple when he’d laid beside you. 
Everything Billy had thought of you, from the beginning, had gone straight down the drain. 
Everything he’d thought would happen with you had turned into something better, something more intimate, and it wasn’t anything he had ever experienced. Maybe that was why he was so scared.
Maybe that’s why he’s so content to drown himself in you—in your body—and maybe that’s why the lies die so easily on his tongue when he tries to spit them out again. But instead, he spits out into the water, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and cites a dry mouth when you raise a curious eyebrow. 
He finds out about that new kink then. When he does it again, later, hoping that he’ll be able to force the words out for real if he’s forceful in some way, he sees your eyes flit down to his mouth and then back over his face, your own lips parting momentarily. 
He ends up kissing you messily, hand on your jaw as he forces you to lay back on the dock. Your knees bend and bracket his hips like it’s instinct, and it’s not long before he has your shorts off of your legs and your shirt above your tits for him to mouth at and squeeze. 
He briefly sticks his face in your cunt, not to make sure you're wet because he already knows you are, but because he can’t resist the thought of you in his mouth. He laps it up like he’s being paid, wrings all sorts of breathless gasps and pretty moans from you like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 
And then he pulls away, hands spreading your thighs, until you open your eyes and look at him. He ducks his eyes—only for a moment—and spits on your slippery center, and he can feel the little flinch and subsequent shiver that echoes through your thighs when your head thuds back on the dock. Your broken moan confirms his suspicions, and he grins as he goes back to thrusting his tongue in your hole, thumb flicking at your clit in tandem. 
He edges you just a bit, pulling away when you’re close and reveling in the fact that he’s in control of your orgasm. 
The third time, when you’re white-knuckling the edge of the dock and your eyes are shining, he makes a request. It’s now or never. 
“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” His voice washes over your haze and you almost feel like it’s spurring your orgasm on, closer and closer. “Come on, baby, tell me. Don’t be shy.”
You wriggle as much as you can as his thumb goes back to nudging your little button—now red and angry from not getting release—and you find the idea of Billy Hargrove playing you like a fiddle oddly comforting, like he’s the only one you trust to bring you that sweet, sweet culmination. 
“Mng, you, Billy,” You breathe, and he rewards you with a firmer touch, his mouth returning to its obscene licks. “Only you, I swear!” 
He palms at his cock through his jeans as your orgasm hits you, and it’s so forceful that you don’t know he’s unbuckling his belt until you hear it, and even then it doesn’t fully register. You feel boneless, airy. 
But then you feel the press of his cock head against your entrance and the delicious stretch when he tries to push in. You’re soaking wet but it doesn’t go as easily as he thought it would, so he spits directly in his hand, silver ring flashing as he jerks himself off and makes sure he’s plenty lubricated. It’s easier this time when he pushes in, and your back arches as he starts a quick, unrelenting pace. He hadn’t bothered to undress, so you can see the sheen of sweat that coats his neck and chest underneath his unbuttoned shirt. 
A few curls stick to his forehead but he either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice. Either way, you reach up and tug him down, hands brushing them away as you grind your hips in time with his thrusts. He grips the back of your neck, keeping it bared as his teeth dig into the meat of it and make you whimper. Another orgasm is pulled from you before his own, and you moan into his ear at the last moment something he’s never heard from the girls from before. 
“Come inside me,” He squeezes his eyes shut as he feels his cock throb. Shit!
“Want it so bad, Billy, please!” 
He can’t deny you, not with your brows scrunched up so adorably and a flush running the length of your body. Not when you moan so desperately, and certainly not when you’re squeezing every drop from him like he owes it to you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck!” He groans, long and drawn out, like he’s been waiting for you to say those words his whole life. 
He practically collapses on you, but his weight is comforting. The summer breeze that blows over the water cools you both down as you catch your breath, and when you finally feel like you can slip your discarded shorts back on without falling into the lake, he finds himself staring at you like some lost puppy, the moon backlighting you like in some cheesy movie. 
God, I’m so fucked, he thinks to himself.
@nix-rose @writethrough @bookshelf-dust @billlydear @justice4billy @powerofelvis @eddiesdruid @scarletwitchwhore @justice4billiam @nirvana-nikiforov @snorl0ck @andthevillainshallrises @prompted-wordsmith @gublerstylesobrien1238 @madneedshelp @sadhours @18lkpeters @astermath @lululacava @bluebeardtheblasphemous @blurredcolour
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sadhours · 7 months
Text
Heatwave
Billy Hargrove x f!reader
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masterlist
@billysbot 😘
summary: you and billy are melting on the couch when he thinks of way to cool you down, just to heat ya back up again.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, kissing, ice cubes, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected sex
////
It’s a lazy day. No work, no school. Just the heat of summer beating down on the run down two bedroom house you share with Billy. The window ac blasting paired with the oscillating fan you got for a discount at the department store isn’t doing much to cool the tiny place. Sprawled out on the couch, you’re both sticky with sweat. Aimlessly flipping through channels, not quite finding anything entertaining enough to keep your attention. Not to mention Billy’s like a space heater against your skin. Nevertheless, you’re needy. Have to cling to him like it’s the last time you’ll ever touch him. He doesn’t seem to mind, hand resting on your stomach while he watches you flick from channel to channel. Commercial after commercial, you two are silent.
Who knew Indiana summers could be so brutal? The lack of clothes is necessary, but it’s still simmering despite the cool breeze manufactured by the fan dancing against your bodies for seconds. Billy rests his cheek against yours, dancing his fingers against your bare navel and let’s out a small sigh.
“I’m melting,” you tell him.
He chuckles, nodding softly against your head, “You and I both, darlin’.”
You drop the remote and turn around so you can face him, placing your palm against his cheek as you look into his stunning eyes. His breath fans against your lips and it’s like magnet, pulling you closer to him. His plump, pink lips are just so inviting. You know that kissing him is just gonna make you feel hotter, but you don’t care. Feel desperate for it. So you press your mouth against his, hooking your leg up over his waist and press your body flush against his. Billy’s palm holds your thigh over him, kissing you gently at first but it progresses quickly. Like he’s just as needy as you are. His heavy tongue slides against your lower lip before purchasing passed them, flooding your mouth. Billy licks against your tongue, then against your teeth and he’s pulling back to kiss your lips before deepening it again. Your palm lowers to his jaw, fingertips digging in just slightly to his soft skin. The two of you moan into the kiss, writhing just slightly against each other.
The actions only add to the heat, your body almost uncomfortably hot but the kiss is distracting enough. But Billy keeps pulling back to breathe so you know he’s feeling just the same. You giggle when he does it, grabbing onto his hair to pull him back into it. It’s satisfying to see him flustered over a kiss. Intoxicating to know you can make him feel like that with something so simple as snogging. Billy grabs onto the flesh of your thigh tighter, pulling your closer while he circles his tongue around yours. You close your lips around his tongue, sucking on it gently while you roll your hips against him. He hums pleasantly, moving his hand to grab a handful of your ass. The heat in your body tunnels down to your core, an aching desire radiating from it while you take turns licking into each others mouths. Billy lays back, pulling you on top of him with both hands on the small of your back. You dominate the kiss at this angle, bracing your hands on his broad shoulders. The bulging muscles feel nice against your palms. You sit up, grabbing your cropped tank top and pulling it over your head. Billy’s mouth finds your tits, enveloping your nipple in the heat of it. You moan out softly, eyes fluttering shut as you revel in the euphoria erupting through you. He’s hard in his briefs, you can feel it against your ass as he just barely jerks his hips up.
“Billy,” you whimper, wrapping your fingers against the back of his neck while he sucks on your perky nipple.
Chills run down your spine, the opposite nipple tingles with how hard it is. Billy moves his hand up and flicks his forefinger against it, like he read your mind. You choke on a moan, the sound breaking into the humid air as you knit your fingers in his hair. He’s sloppy with it, coating your breast in his saliva. It’s dripping down your chest, making a mess and the sound of his eager lips against the sensitive skin is intense on your ears. A surge of wetness escapes your cunt, dampening your underwear while you weakly hump against him. His left hand squeezes at your hip and you can feel his lips tugging up on a smile against your skin. It’s endearing as much as it’s arousing. The excitement he gets from making you come undone is apparent and it’s one of the hottest things about him. Billy’s eagerness to please is unmatched.
He bites gently, looking up at you work this mischievous look that forces a half moan, half giggle from you. You pinch his cheek and he giggles around you, his eyes crinkling up with it. Pushing his head back, the pair of you laugh.
“You’re so pretty,” you confess honestly.
Billy grins wide, eyes closing with it before he replies, “You’re prettier.”
“Shut up,” you blush, squeezing his cheeks between your fingers.
“Ya still melting?” he asks, voice slightly constrained by the way you’re grabbing his face.
You let go, “Yeah. In a different way, now.”
He slaps your bum gently, “Up.”
You obey, standing up and watching as he does the same, hard cock swaying in his briefs. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into another kiss that makes you lightheaded. You struggle to keep up right, clutching onto his biceps for support while he twists his tongue around yours. Billy pulls back but you follow, not wanting the kiss to end so soon. He laughs, grabbing your wrists to steady you.
“I’ll be right back,” he assures you, “Lay down.”
You watch as he saunters down the hall and into the kitchen, piquing your curiosity but you listen, trusting him completely as you make yourself comfortable back on the couch again. You press your palm against your pussy, desperate for a bit of relief. The sounds of Billy rustling through the kitchen light you up in anticipation but you stay put, lazily rubbing yourself through your underwear.
“Can’t control yourself, babydoll?” he inquires in a teasing tone as he sits on the edge of the couch. In his hand, he’s got a short glass filled with cubes which ignites a totally new fire inside you.
“What’s that for?” you sit up quickly. Billy presses his hand against your chest, pushing you back down with a soft laugh and a shake of his head.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he insists, biting his lip as he finishes his sentences.
Eager, you look up at him with wide, curious eyes as you impatiently wait for his next move. Billy plucks a single ice cube from the cup, moving to drag it against your collarbone. You inhale sharply at the coolness, tilting your head back while you squeeze your thighs together. It’s a relief from the heat but it’s an incredibly erotic feeling, shooting straight from where the ice meets your skin down to your pulsing pussy. He continues against your collarbone, dipping his lips down to suck the water up from your skin. As he does so, he lowers the ice down the curve of your breast. You gasp, eyelids involuntarily closing while goosebumps erupt over your skin. Billy’s tongue follows the ice, warming the coldness left in it’s wake. When he circles the ice cube around your nipple, you cry out softly.
“Coolin’ ya down?” he asks, biting his lip as he looks up at you.
Quite the opposite. You’ve never felt hotter, chest heaving as you pant out. It’s not a temperature thing. You’re squirming at the feeling, eyes wide with your eyebrows knit as you look at him, mouth agape. There’s no fucking way you could reply, no possibility of actual words coming from you. A weak moan falls out instead and he chuckles, looking at you with dark eyes as you fall apart beneath him. Billy circles the ice around your nipple a few more times before leaning down to suck up what’s melted around it. A strangled groan escapes you, hands gripping the couch under you. Billy slides the ice cube to the neglected nipple, but it’s barely the size of a marble at this point. It’s turned into water in no time but he’s reaching for a second quickly, running against your nipple while he sucks a sizable hickey on the other breast.
The teasing continues until you’re arching your back and the second ice cube melts into nothing. He peels your underwear down your thighs, slapping the bottom of one so you lift your legs and he can get them completely off. You sit up more, back against the arm of the couch while he retrieves another ice cube. Billy starts at your belly button, swirling the ice around before descending. Once the cold ice meets the top of your pussy lips, you gasp and spread your legs for him. Billy drags it down to your swollen clit, bumping the corner of the cube against the bundle of nerves before he’s moving it through your folds. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, turning you into a puddle, just like the ice between his fingers. He slips the shrinking ice cube inside your cunt, watching you eagerly as your hips jerk from the feeling.
“Holy shit,” you pant out, wide eyed.
Billy bites his lip, looking from your pussy back to your eyes, “It melted, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod, letting your head fall back as he reaches for another cube and repeats the same actions, but this time, he slides it inside your pulsing walls before it’s melted quite as much. He puts his whole mouth on you, tongue curling around your clit before flicking through your folds and then prodding into your hole. Billy’s fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he spreads you even wider, going to town on your pussy like a man starved. You moan repeatedly, fingers grasping at his dirty blonde curls as you push him closer against your cunt. He hums at the neediness, eyes meeting yours while he devours you.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry, eyes locked on his while he focuses on your clit, moving his tongue in the particularly perfect way he does. You can feel him moaning against you, watching as he grinds down against the couch. Billy slips two fingers in without resistance, curling them up against your sensitive wall as he sucks your clit between his lips. It’s formulaic, the way he can bring you on the precipice of orgasm in seconds. Tried and true, Billy works easily to bring you to that edge. He moans gutturally against you as your body seizes in pleasure, the rough waves of euphoric heaven wrack through you. Vision goes white, ears ringing as you scream your boyfriends name, thighs trapping his head and fingers pushing his mouth hard against you.
“Billy!” you cry, eyes leaking as you jerk your hips up against him, riding out your orgasm.
He allows you to come down, smoothing his hands against the backs of your thighs. His chin is shiny with your slick as he pulls away, moving quick to kiss you hungrily. The taste of yourself is welcomed, clinging to him desperately while he writhes against you. His hard cock strained by his underwear rubs against you in a way that has you eager for another orgasm. You scratch down his back, wrapping your legs around his waist as you pull him closer.
You remember the glass of quickly melting ice, pushing against his chest. Billy sits back, looking at you with that glassy look in his eyes that tells you he’s desperate. You sink down on the floor between his legs. Hooking your fingers into his waist band, you pull down his briefs and let his cock free. It slaps up against his abs, pulsing while his slit leaks. You move forward and lap at the precum before sitting back and grabbing for the cup. You pull out a cube and press it to the top of his cock. Billy groans lowly, watching as you drag it down is shaft and then experimentally slide it against his sack.
“Fu-uck,” he lets out in a broken moan, clenching his fists at his side, letting you know he’s giving you complete control.
The ice cube melts quickly and you lick up what it’s left behind before reaching for another. Shyly, you circle it against his nipple.
“Oh,” he exhales in pleased surprise as his legs involuntarily spread. You giggle softly, dragging the cube down his muscled torso and swipe it around the tip of his cock. Billy jerks his hips up, mouth hung open as he pants out. Your clit aches at the sight, walls fluttering around nothing but the thought of his stretching you out. But the sounds he makes are too pretty, and the almost submissive writhe of his body is too good. The ice cube drips, is so cold in your fingers as you bring it down against his shaft and then back up to the most sensitive part of his tip.
“Jesus Christ,” he curses, cock twitching at the sensation.
You bite your lip, bringing the ice to his slit and watching as his chest heaves with how hard he’s breathing. Once the ice melts and you look back to the cup, you realize that was the last of them. So you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down until it meets the back of your throat. Breathing through your nose, you grab hold of his hands and he laces your fingers together. You bob up and down on his thick length, squeezing his hands as you focus on not gagging. Drool pools at the corners of your lips, dripping down his cock as you drag up and down it. The whimpers and whines he’s eliciting make you squirm where you’re sat, looking up to meet his watching eyes. Billy’s fucking ethereal, blissed out. Glazed eyes, pink lips parted as he pants out with his eyebrows knit together.
“Fuck,” he grits out, “Get on my cock. Need your pussy, now.”
The urgency in his voice rushes you, pulling off his cock with a pop before you climb into his lap. You sink down on his cock easily, the pair of you groaning out at the feeling. Billy grabs onto your hips roughly, pushing you down on him eagerly while he growls. You hump against him, wrapping your arms around his neck while you stare into his eyes.
“So good, your pussy feels so fucking good,” he whines out, nails digging into your skin.
“Billy,” you gasp out, eyes rolling back as his tip hammers into your g-spot.
“Such a good girl for me, fuck— so hot,” he babbles out, hands helping you bounce up and down on him, “Ride that cock, just like that, baby girl.”
His voice is heavy on your ears, riling you up even more while you ride him. It’s wonderful, your body overwhelmed with the pleasure. His gorgeous face staring up at you is intoxicating, makes you buzz with desperation. He’s utterly perfect, all chiseled and handsome and all fucking yours. You grab his face, grinding down on him with reckless abandon. Billy’s clearly close, he grabs your hips and holds you still so he can thrust up into you even harder.
“Oh, fuck yeah, take it,” he growls out, holding you tight enough to leave bruises. It doesn’t matter. You’re covered in the evidence of his lust.
“Feels so good,” you tell him.
“Yeah?” he asks, voice higher than normal. “Taking it like a good little slut. Fucking made for it.”
His words make your toes curl, coupled with the almost delirious look in his eye as he’s overtaken with arousal induced hunger. He looks so hot when he gets like this, concentrated yet falling apart. It’s enough to have you mirroring him, moaning out as you keep your grip on his stunning face. His eyes gaze up at you through thick eyelashes, beads of sweat forming along his hairline while his hips rock up into you with determined force. Your walls squeeze him as you feel the familiar pressure building in the pit of your stomach and the tingling sensation rushing up your thighs.
“Gonna cum?” he asks, breathless, “Go ahead, cum on my cock.”
Your hands move to hold his shoulders, pressing your foreheads together while you work to meet his thrusts. He captures your lips in his, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you flush against him. The kiss is just as urgent as the slapping of your bodies, sloppy and uncoordinated until it turns into the pair of you just moaning into each others mouths. Billy adjusts his hips just barely, pressing into your sensitive spot exactly how you need it.
“Right there,” you pant out, “Just like that. Don’t stop!”
Billy whines, rolling his hips harder and deeper. It only takes a handful of thrusts to push you over. A cry erupts from you as you scratch down his arms, back arching while the orgasm crashes through you like a ton of bricks. He kisses you again, swallowing all the sounds you make as he allows you to ride it out. Then, he’s grabbing at your hips again, plants his feet steady on the floor and hammers his hips up at you. He sets a brutal pace, fast and hard. It’s overwhelming, considering how spent you feel from the past two orgasms. The erotic grunts and moans he let out do a lot to dissipate the discomfort, you grab hold of his face again and stay still, letting him use you for his release. His moans get a little higher pitched, a little needier and he freezes, back arching as you feel his hot, thick spunk coating your walls.
“Billy,” you moan weakly, stroking his cheek as you watch his body relax. He hums softly, reaching up to press his palm against your cheek. The two of you stay put until the heat makes itself known again. You pull off of him, watching as his cum drips out of you and onto his softening cock. You kiss his nose softly before wandering into the bathroom to clean up. Billy’s behind you shortly after, kissing your forehead as you sit on the toilet before he splashes his face with cold water.
When you’re finished and follow him back towards the living room, he pulls on a pair of sweats from the pile of laundry you two have been neglecting and reaches for his pack of Marlboros. You follow him to the porch after pulling on a dress and sit with him. He intertwines your fingers after lighting his smoke and stares up at the sky, chuckling softly.
“What?” you ask curiously, peering up to see the grey clouds hiding the blazing sun.
“It’s gonna rain,” he observes and turns back to you, just as a strike of lightning flashes and is followed by a loud thundering. Rain starts pour down onto the yard and Billy’s placing his smoke in the ashtray before picking you up and carrying you out to the grass. You wrap your legs around his waist, giggling as the pair of you are drenched in seconds. Billy presses his lips against yours, deepening it quickly as he tightens his arms around you.
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vilentia · 11 months
Text
Tears of Regret
Billy Hargrove x reader
Inspired by this post by @billyhargrovesslut
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Billy Hargrove's heart pounded in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He had always been hot-tempered, but this time, he had let his anger consume him completely. He never meant to hurt you—his beloved, the one he was deeply in love with—but in the heat of the moment, his actions had spiraled out of control.
You had been arguing, the tension between you escalating with each word exchanged. A simple disagreement had turned into a raging storm, and Billy had lost control of his emotions. In his fury, he had lashed out, a wild swing of his arm connecting with your shoulder, causing you to stumble back in pain.
The moment he saw the look of fear and pain flash across your face, Billy's heart shattered into a million pieces. His anger evaporated instantly, replaced by a profound sense of regret and guilt. All he wanted was to take back that moment, to rewind time and prevent himself from causing you any harm. But it was too late—the damage was done.
As you flinched away from him, your eyes filled with tears, Billy's world came crashing down around him. He was deeply in love with you, and the thought of hurting you, even unintentionally, was unbearable. He had promised himself he would protect you, cherish you, and now he had failed miserably.
"Y/N," Billy's voice wavered with a mixture of sorrow and desperation. He reached out a trembling hand, desperate to bridge the growing distance between you. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I never wanted to hurt you. Please, believe me."
But you couldn't bring yourself to respond. The pain in your eyes mirrored the pain in his heart, and you took a step back, a silent plea for space and time to process the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. It felt as though your love, once so strong and vibrant, was now crumbling under the weight of your shattered trust.
Tears streamed down Billy's face, his chest heaving with sobs he couldn't control. The realization of his actions crashed upon him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in remorse. He had always struggled to express his emotions, to let others in, but with you, he had found solace—a love that made him vulnerable in ways he had never experienced before.
Now, as he witnessed the anguish etched on your face, he felt like he was losing everything he held dear. The depth of his love for you consumed him, suffocating him with the agony of his own mistakes. He knew he had to give you space, to give you time to heal, but the thought of living without you was unbearable.
"Babe, please," he whispered through choked sobs, his voice raw and broken. "I'll do anything, anything to make this right. I can't lose you. I can't."
But as you turned away, your steps filled with uncertainty, Billy knew that your love, once so vibrant, was now slipping through his fingers like sand. The anguished realization left him feeling utterly alone, drowning in a sea of regrets.
And as he stood there, watching you walk away, his heart shattered into a million more pieces, knowing that he had caused irreparable damage to the one person who meant everything to him. The tears fell freely, his anguished cries echoing in the empty space around him, as he grappled with the painful truth that he might have lost you forever.
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billlydear · 1 year
Note
Touch starved Billy Hargrove ✨a concept✨
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HC - TOUCH STARVED BILLY HARGROVE
W.C 1680 - INBOX (please request !) - CREDIT TO GIF OWNER
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mmm not touch starved billy, love starved billy. he gets plenty of skin-on-skin. a backhand or a shove from his dad, a quick fuck in the backseat of his car, hell, why do you think he takes his shirt off to play basketball, a contact sport? he wants to feel touch, he's just never been given a kind one.
and that's where you come in :) from the very first date you're already shyly reaching for his hand, slipping your fingers between his over the vinyl table of the small diner you're eating at
you watch carefully for his reaction, and he's not really able to hide his shock, he kind of goes stiff. so you're worried you've overstepped, and you start to draw back with an awkward apology, but just before you can pull your hand away completely, he tightens his grip, and squeezes your hand, holding it in place.
“Don’t apologize.” Normally that would be said in a teasing, lighthearted tone. But instead his face is strangely intense, eyes shining under the low lights of the diner.
then it escalates from hand holding to a hug. He drops you off at your front step, and instead of just staying in the car, he walks you up. It’s a pretty cliched first kiss scene, you tell him you had a good time and he agrees with a dazzling smile. There’s a slow, heart-racing lean-in, hitched breath and an eager shine in your eyes, and then he kisses you so soft, you’re not even sure he’s there. He’s not really about special first kisses, preferring to tongue a girl behind the gym. But when your hand comes up to press gently, softly against his cheek, he knows he’s addicted to kindness, soaking it up like a sponge and letting the excess compel him to hold your waist.
he’s not handsy like he normally would be, he keeps his hands firmly planted there while you kiss. It’s soft, slow, sweet, and it feels like waking from a daydream as his pretty blue eyes flutter open to stare into yours.
“Goodnight, Billy.” You whisper, and he’s a goner.
there’s tenderness in your voice, your touch, your gaze, and he lays awake that night thinking about it. It warms him up, knowing that you’d treated him like you care. Maybe you do, maybe you dont, but the feeling is intoxicating, and he doesn’t feel as perpetually angry at the world that night
max notices a change after that. Neil shouts at him, tells him he’s good for nothing, weak, disappointing, and instead of slamming his door and blasting music, probably kicking the bed frame, he offers her a ride to the arcade.
"What?" / "A ride, dipshit, I'm going out and I'll drop you on the way."
and the most insane part, he doesn't even bitch at her in the car. she sits silently and so does he, and when she gets out, he says he'll get her at 8. no threats, no name-calling, just 'i'll pick you up at 8'.
when she gets in the car at 8:10, she's absolutely certain she'll be griped at for being late. but he backs out of the spot, and even asks her about the slap bracelet she'd won inside.
"You get that in there?'"/ "Yeah. I had enough tickets so..." / "What?"
She squints hard at his face while they're stopped at a light, and his own face scrunches in displeasure, "What is it?"
"Are you wearing chapstick?"
The light turns green, and he punches it hard, only remembering to slow down as he pulls his lips between his teeth to lick them. she doesn't ask again, but she spots a tube of it on the ground, strawberry flavored, and definitely not hers.
billy had taken you to the drive-in, and apparently it had fallen out of your pocket when you'd leaned over the center to kiss him. he brought it back to you the next day, knocking at your door and greeting your mother who surprisingly loved him. he wasn't really sure how to react to that, because no girl's mother has ever liked him before, but he's welcomed in and finds you in your room, folding laundry.
he spends the entire day with you, a saturday, just being with you. you teach him how to fold laundry your way, and he definitely teases you about the bras and underwear he finds. in retaliation you whack him with a pillow, and he pretends to be greatly injured after the attack, sprawled out over your bed with his tongue out in a cartoonish display of death
you straddle his waist, peering down at his minutely-fluttering eyelashes. you take his face in your hands, gently, sweetly, and turn it to face you, watching as his pretty blue eyes make a reappearance. he's staring at you, and he looks almost nervous, but he could easily push you off it he wanted to, and he doesn't, so you take that as a good sign.
you trace his features, fingers grazing over the tip of his nose and down through the crease of his chin, just below his lips. then beneath his eyes, along his cheekbones, and smoothing over his forehead. he watches you breathlessly the entire time, a thin layer of tears glossing over his eyes.
when you notice them you stop, nervous that you'd upset him. you ask him what's wrong, hovering over his face only inches away
"I love you." He murmurs, reaching up to cup your cheek.
it's breathless, it's passionate, and it's.. a little early. but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. he's just quicker to figure out when he loves someone 'cause he doesn't very often, so it's a new feeling that sticks out to him.
now that he's said it for the first time, watch out.
he's gonna say it 24/7, any opportunity. you hand him a chip? he leans over to bite it out of your hand and goes 'I love you'. he hands you a chip? when you reach for it he'll hold it out of your reach, wait 'till you look at him like wtf? and then say 'love you' with that shit-eating grin of his
he clings to you. his hand is always somewhere on your body, whether it be prying at your own and pulling it into his lap or laying around your shoulders, pressing your sides together
play. with. his. hair. seriously, scratch your nails through his hair, he'll purr like a kitten. brush it out right before his shower, give him a little head massage, that way you can mess up the curls and he'll just reform 'em. comb through it, braid it, put serums and products in it, anything as long as you're touching his scalp
i think he'd really appreciate forehead/cheek/nose kisses, of course he appreciates them on the lips too but it's different, casually intimate and sweet. he's addicted to kissing your cheek, he'll be walking beside you in the mall and yank you closer by where his arm is laid around your hip just to press his lips to your cheek
he kisses your forehead in bed, tugs you into his chest and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. he might not even lean back up, he might just fall asleep with his face pressed to yours
he's.. obsessed with kissing. like, your lips are constantly swollen. of course he's game for a good steamy makeout session but mostly it's just lazy, slow, soft, sweet kisses, just laying together and swapping spit and touching each other, your leg thrown over his, your foreheads bumping together, his hand on your stomach
speaking of, he'll sleep with his hand under your shirt most nights, either flat and warm against your back or your stomach. and if you ever sneak your hand up his shirt to scratch up his back, he shivers. fully body shivers.
he loves loves loves it when you hold him in your sleep, sometimes he stays awake while you drift off just to watch you get comfy and unconsciously snuggle into his warmth. The first time you do it is while you’re watching a movie on your couch and he misses the last half of the film because he’s just watching you sleep peacefully all snuggled into him
he’s not only grateful that you’re his safe space, but he’s amazed that he seems to be your own. he’s never had a safe space before, even when his mama was around Neil was too. so being with someone he loves without any fear or anxiety is very meaningful to him. It means that when you pass out on his shoulder at the drive-in or let him cart you around to parties just as long as he keeps his arm around you the entire time, he recognizes that you feel safe with him, and that means more to him than he’ll ever be able to express
it’s why he takes such good care of you, he doesn’t ever want to let you down or be someone who fails you. the movie’s too loud and you’re starting to wake? he doesn’t need to see the end of it, the two mcs probably get together. he’ll just drive quietly and slowly back home and let you snooze in the parking lot. party getting too wild? he’ll take you out into the backyard and sit on the porch swing with you, smoke a cig and blow it away from you, let your head fall onto his shoulder with his arm around your waist.
your touch grounds him. he feels safe, secure, loved, supported, happy, and content all at once when he’s touching you, even if he’s just knocking his foot into yours from under the lunch table.
Billy may get touched a lot, but not loved, so when you come into his life, a beacon of all things sweet, he’s going to bask in it, soaking up your love like a big sappy sponge and letting it heal his wounds
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latelyanobsession · 2 years
Text
Ripe
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summary enjoying your favorite summertime snack around the wrong company can be a very dangerous thing to do.
warnings cursing, lots of heat, smut, slight food play, oral fixation-ish, praise, semi-public & risky 
word count 1,912
note i will say that inspiration strikes at the oddest of moments
As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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It was a beautiful summer day as you walked through the gates of the Hawkins Pool. 
Tilting your sunglasses up you scanned the bustling scene for your boyfriend, your ears perking up as a shrill whistle entered the air followed by harsh barking words.
There he was. Berating a pair of twelve-year-old boys for dunking each other in the 5-foot end of the pool.
Pursing your lips around your fingers you mustered a sound capable of hailing a taxi cab. Smiling, you gave him a large wave as he snapped his head in your direction.
Coming over to Billy’s side of the pool you crossed your arms and waited for him to finish his lecture. 
“You wanna die today kid?” the one boy still ashamedly grasping his friend by the collar.
The boy shook his head furiously.
Looming over them menacingly Billy waved them apart, blowing his whistle sharply.
“Didn’t think so.” he scoffed turning to face you.
“Another life saved.” you mused sarcastically.
He smirked, eyes appraising the small sundress on your frame.
“You staying to swim today?” he asked curiously.
You had yet to come to the pool for a swim. Thus far only stopping by to share lunch breaks or say hi on your days off, and he was beginning to worry that you were ducking him.
Allaying his fears, you slyly pulled aside the strap of your dress revealing a thin red bikini strap.
A small groan escaped his lips. 
“Good.”
Pulling the beach bag from your opposite shoulder, you took Billy’s hand as he walked you to a small patch of shade in the grass.
Sitting together, you pulled out a couple brown paper lunch sacks and water bottles. 
Taking his, Billy pulled out a sandwich biting into it immediately.
You giggled, pulling a peach from your lunch bag.
“Wha?” he questioned, ripping off another large portion. 
The sandwich was nearly gone.
“Had I known they worked you this hard, I would have brought you two.” you said tenderly.
He chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, opening the small bag of chips with a pop.
“Would you like mine?” you offered.
He almost looked offended, waving his hands in refusal.
“Billy, if you’re still hungry have mine.” you pulled out your sandwich, putting it in his lap.
“It’s not the end of the world...” you smiled encouragingly.
He swallowed hard. Guilty, childlike eyes of appreciation looking back at you.
“Thanks.” he ripped the tinfoil off and tucked into it with vigor as you turned your attentions to your own lunch.
The peach was soft and ripe, giving way with an audible squelch as you bit into its smooth flesh.
It may have actually been a little overripe as juice flowed from the fruit down your chin. Dripping onto your chest and traveling to rest between your cleavage.
You pulled away with a messy mouthful, closing your lips with a loud slurp.
“This was messier then I thought it would be...” you commented innocently, taking another graphic bite.
Billy was slowly chewing, his ears burning with the first wet sounds falling from your lips.
He was watching you now with rapt attention.
Watching those delicate pink pillows wrap and press themselves against the skin of that sinfully moist food. 
Teeth and tongue scraping for the exquisitely sweet meat it had to offer you.
Your mouth pulling off in a lewd, wet burst. Lips shimmering.
You looked immensely content and it was driving him absolutely insane.
Taking care to suckle the last bits of goodness from the pit, you hummed happily.
“I’m a mess. Lemme go clean off... be back in a sec.” you insisted, sucking a bit of juice from your thumb.
Rising to your feet, you wandered towards the women’s locker rooms, tossing the pit in the trash.
Entering the locker rooms you headed off towards the sinks, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist and jerked you inside a nearby changing stall.
About to yell, your eyes widened when you realized who it was.
“Billy?!” you whispered harshly. “You can’t be in here!”
You gruffly pulled the privacy curtain over the entrance, encasing yourselves in the small space.
“Relax...” he murmured with a leer, “the supply closet connects the men’s.”
You weren’t relaxed.
“Why’re you in here?” you inquired, bashfully meeting his eyes.
The corner of his mouth pricked up in sick delight as his broad arms pinned you in on both sides.
Your toes curled in anticipation, resting a palm flat against his bare chest.
You knew that look anywhere. And he knew. 
He knew damn well that he didn’t even have to lay a finger on you, and you would fall right into whatever scheme he was concocting.
He rarely if ever had to ask.
“Here?” you breathed, slightly panicked as the voices of women chattering passed by the curtain and out the door.
He gave a stern nod, his hand lazily lifting one strap of your dress. Drawing it down your shoulder.
Heat was pooling between your legs, a familiar ache overwhelming your core as you chewed your lip. 
“Think you can handle a lil’ challenge princess?” his opposite hand dragging down your other strap, pulling the dress downward and exposing your bright crimson bikini top. 
You looked over at the drape, considering your last momentary thoughts of sanity before locking eyes with him.
Nodding nervously, your head fell back against the stall wall as he instantly attacked you.
Diving, he dipped his face between your breasts, his tongue seeking out the sticky sweet trail of fruit juice that had fallen among them.
A sharp gasp of surprise fell from your mouth, feeling him run his tongue in a thick, flat strip up the length of your sternum approaching your collar bone.
Momentarily pausing at your pulse point, he nipped your skin, testing you.
You bit your lip, holding in a small cry, rolling your hips against him in protest.
“Good girl” he muttered, moving his assault northward.
Craning your neck, pressing yourself flush against the cool metal wall, you attempted to ground yourself. 
His tongue creeping over your chin reaching its final destination.
Biting your lower lip, he pulled you into a hungry kiss. Laving his tongue against your plush lips. Demanding entry, which you willingly obliged.
Slipping your fingers beneath the elastic of his trunks, you ground yourself against him. A low rumble of approval emanating from his throat as his growing arousal pressed up against you.
Deepening the kiss, his hands traveled south roughly grasping your ass, his fingers digging harshly into the skin, making you whimper.
“Have you always owned this set?” he rasped, leaving open mouthed kisses along your jaw and tickling the shell of your ear.
“I bought it two days ago” you squeaked, as a hand cupped your sex.
A deep growl of satisfaction met your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Looks sexy” he commented, hooking a finger in the crotch of your high-leg bottoms and shifting them aside.
An intense thrum of pleasure rumbled in his chest as he lightly dusted his fingers across your folds.
“Ya just make this too easy princess...” dipping his digits lightly at your entrance he withdrew them, to show you. The clear viscous fluid dripping from his fingers.
You looked to the ceiling in silent prayer before returning your gaze to him.
“I can’t help it.” you simpered as he held out his fingers for you.
Taking them into your mouth, you wrapped your tongue around them longingly only to whine lightly as he pulled them from you, replacing his mouth on yours in a searing kiss.
A conceited huff passed his lips, fanning your face. Your hips stuttering as he slipped a single finger inside you.
Idly wagging it, pressing lightly against the spot that could make you scream.
“Ya seem plenty ready to me... What cha’ think princess?” he taunted.
Deep cerulean orbs boring into you for an answer.
Chuffing, a deep blush settled across your cheeks, you were wound tighter than a spring.
“Just... fuck me” you heaved, wrapping your hands around his neck.
A broad smirk broke across his lips as he grabbed your ass, hoisting you up his waist. Pressing you firmly between himself and the wall.
Freeing his erection from his trunks, he lined himself up against your entrance, sinking into your heat.
Your jaw clenched, biting your lip hard to quiet yourself as you wrapped your legs around him.
“Shit princess...” his head lolling at a full tilt, “so fuckin’ tight.” 
You whimpered softly, the light sting of the sudden intrusion making you clench reflexively.
“Always so fuckin’....” he drew back “tight...” thrusting deep.
You choked out an audible moan, your head hitting the wall.
“C’mon now princess... we’re just gettin’ started.” he tutted.
Picking up a steady pace, he claimed your lips. Swallowing down your pathetic whines and pleading cries.
Angling his hips, he drove deeper making your head swim.
“Billy...” you mewled softly, tucking your head against his neck to stifle yourself.
“Somethin’ ta say princess?” he growled with a harsh snap of his hips. The head of his cock hitting your cervix.
You always played this game. The longer it took for you to choke it out, the harder he was going to make it for you.
He rolled his hips, burying himself deep pressing against that nub in a way that could make you cry and wipe your mind blank.
“Speak up...” he taunted, nudging himself up against your sensitivity.
“Ngh...” looking at him through hooded eyes you tried to gain what control you had.
Another abrupt thrust.
Your eyes rolling, you managed what you could.
“Fuck me...” a sharp inhale, “so well...”
He was smiling like the cheshire cat. 
“That so princess?” his pace was gaining steam, your nails grappling against his back for better hold. 
A calloused thumb had found your clit, providing constant pressure in unrelenting circles.
Your back was arching, breath hitching, as your hips started to tremble.
“Billy...” you warned.
“Tell me... say it...” he ground out.
Your walls were beginning to flutter, your climax initiating.
Kissing the juncture of his jaw, your first contraction hit you with a low moan reaching his ear.
“No one... fucks my pussy like you.” and you tumbled into bliss. Resting your head on his shoulder, forgetting completely about the noises you needed to withhold. 
He gave in, pistoning his hips. Making you cry out. Locking you into a final kiss as he fell apart, fist slamming against the wall to steady himself as he filled you.
Still meeting you with lazy thrusts, he looked at you, resting your foreheads together.
You were breathless as he set you down gently, your legs still shaking.
Your eyes were wide and glazed like a doll’s. 
He adored you this way. Fucked speechless and twice as beautiful.
Tucking a hair away from your kiss-bitten lips, he nipped you sweetly.
“You better shower before going in princess.” he stated.
You looked at him confused.
“Pool rules....” he tapped his whistle smugly.
Giving you one last peck, he poked his head out the curtain before casually strolling off.
A half hour later, after you pulled yourself together and took an extremely cold shower.... you came back out to the pool.
In your new suit you self-consciously waded into the shallows, wondering where he was.
A shrill sound startling you. 
Whipping around you saw him smirking over you, before walking away.
2K notes · View notes
billysbabyy · 11 months
Text
i know a place - billy hargrove one-shot
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billy hargrove x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ (mdni), swearing, smut, public sex, oral (f receiving), choking, size kink.
summary: when billy finds her painting alone, things take a rapid turn.
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Billy had been watching you for a few weeks now. It had been by accident, really. Leaving practice late and hearing the music coming faintly from the art room. Pausing at the door as he listened to the Pixies playing. Figuring it was one of the art freaks who wanted some time away.
Glancing through the glass pane and shocked to see you sitting at the easel. Hair pulled back in a messy bun. Paint brush in hand as you bobbed along to the music.
Completely in your element.
Completely oblivious that someone was peering in during this private moment.
Billy knew who you were, but he didn't know you. Caught a few glimpses of you during the biology class you shared together. You were one of the quiet ones who sat by themselves for the most part. Keep your head down and openly cringed whenever the teacher calls upon you or asks the class to pair up.
You weren't usually the type Billy went for. He liked them easy and fast.
You were a good girl who did her homework and never broke curfew.
You seemed like an effort. The effort he didn't have.
Yet seeing you in this private moment. The way your hands moved quickly across the canvas. The slow, happy movements of the music are playing. The little streak of red paint on the side of your cheek.
Maybe you were worth the effort after all.
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You always preferred painting after school hours. The art teacher leaving the room open for you. It was quiet, peaceful and you could be by yourself. No one looking over your shoulder, questioning what you were doing.
You had learnt young that Hawkins was the sort of place that rejected you if you didn't fit the right mold.
You weren't rich enough to be with the rich kids.
Yet not poor enough to be apart of the outcasts.
Not sporty enough to be a jock or cheerleader.
Not smart enough to be apart of the honour roll kids.
Not pretty enough to be popular.
Not nerdy enough to be a part of the fantasy kids.
You simply were.
And in a place like Hawkins, that made you invisible. Someone who slipped through the cracks to fall into obscurity.
You had friends, but none that were a solid fixation in your life.
You liked it this way. You kept your head down, did your work and prayed you'd get out of Hawkins one day.
That you might find a place that allowed you to simply be yet still noticed you.
It happened in biology.
Your heart pounding when the teacher asked you to pair up; an activity you always dreaded.
Always sitting there awkwardly and waiting until the outcasts were left and the teacher forced you to awkwardly interact for 45 minutes.
You didn't expect someone to slam their books down next to you; blonde curls fill your peripheral vision.
Your eyes widening when you realised it was Billy Hargrove.
He had been in Hawkins for a short time but had already made a name for himself.
The new King of Hawkins.
The new heartbreaker.
The new bully.
And he was sitting next to you.
"Um-"
"Wanna be partners?" You realised you had yet to actually hear him speak before. His voice was deeper than you expected, an edge to it- like a knife cutting through something hard.
"With me?" You asked in disbelief.
Billy chuckles lowly and nods his head, staring intensely at you.
"I sat next to you, didn't I?"
"You know I'm not that smart, right?" You say softly.
Sure, you were passing the class, but you weren't at the top of the class. Somewhere nicely in the middle, enough to get into a decent college, but you wouldn't need to make a speech at graduation.
Billy chuckled again, shaking his head at you.
"I didn't want to be your partner because I thought you were smart."
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What Billy didn't expect was for you to be funny as hell.
When Hagan thought it would be funny to toss his cow's heart across the room, watching as it landed on Carol and Tina's desk. Both of them squealing, and Billy watches as you cringe.
"I definitely think he is over-compensating for something."
It wasn't a comment directed towards Billy, but he still laughed as you awkwardly glanced at him. A tight, awkward smile graces your features before you turn back to the workbook.
You were also a hell of a lot smarter than you let on. You worked through the workbook with ease, pointing out small things to Billy.
He watches as your cheeks tint a light pink when your small hand accidentally brushes against his, before you quickly rip it away and look away.
"You look cute when you blush." Billy muttered.
You suck in your cheeks, clicking in tongue as you glance up at Billy.
"Smooth talk won't work on me, Hargrove."
And maybe you had a bit of a razor tongue too, but Billy liked it.
He wanted more of it.
He tries each class. Gently pushing and probing, but you never gave an inch. You were sweet, you talked back, and answered questions but never gave him anything.
"You got any siblings?"
"Yes."
"Do you like Hawkins?"
"No."
"Wanna go out with me?"
"Do your work, Hargrove."
He keeps watching you after practice too. Standing there quietly as he watches you in the art room. Sometimes he wonders what you'd do if he opened the door and revealed himself.
But it felt like something special between the two of you. Seeing you in that moment, completely carefree and yourself.
He keeps pairing up with you in biology. Trying to push past that barrier you had spent so long putting up around yourself.
If you dare give some of yourself to Billy, it's not long before you're quickly pulling it back off him.
You were one hard fucking case to crack.
And usually he would've given up by now, moved onto something easier.
But he found his mind drifting to you when he was alone. That small, tight-lipped smile whenever he says something funny, how you dance in your stool while painting, and how all your clothes seem to have tiny flecks of paint scattered on them. The wise-ass remarks you mutter when you think he isn't paying attention.
He wanted to know all of you.
And if that meant he would have to watch you every damn day through a glass pane than so be it.
It's when he catches you in biology. Lazily drawing a butterfly in the margin of your notebook, hardly paying attention to what the teacher was rambling about. Billy tears his attention away from the chalkboard, gripping his pen as he reaches over and draws a faint lightning bolt.
You glance at him, pursing your lips before moving your pen and expanding on Billy's crudely drawn lightning bolt. He watches as you add the shading, making his bad drawing look like something magical.
"That's pretty rad," he mutters under his breath as you give him that tight-lipped smile. "Reckon you could draw me a hot chick with a guitar next?" He teases.
Watching as you roll your eyes and nudge his hand away.
But he notices that smile. Finally, one with some teeth.
And God damn he'll take it.
And he's even more proud when he gets to his locker later that afternoon to find a piece of paper folded. Unfolding it and grinning when he saws the curvacious girl holding the guitar. Roughly drawn with a pen but only done by one person.
Carefully folding it and making sure that it slips into his wallet without tearing.
And it becomes the most precious thing he owns.
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He finds you painting again after hours. Staring at you through the window of the art room door.
The way the thin strap of your dress fell down your shoulder as you lost yourself in creating.
Billy had never been the artistic type, and he'd always been better at the logical- the shit that had reasoning behind it. His mom had been the creative one, something Billy had always enjoyed watching her do when she had been around.
The way your hand moved with ease, guiding the brush where you wanted on the canvas.
Creating something beautiful from nothing.
And how beautiful you looked while doing it.
Billy finds himself doing something he's never done before. Pushing the door open.
He watches you jump, turning around and narrowing your eyes when you see Billy standing there.
"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked in a soft voice as Billy walks into the room.
The smell of paint, turpentine and your perfume engulfing his sense as he closes his eyes for a brief moment.
"You're always painting in here." He says with a casual shrug.
"I like it when it's quiet." You mutter.
Had he been watching you? How long had he'd known that you came here?
"I fucking suck at art." He mutters as he walks closer towards you.
You climbing off the stool and staring up at him with wide eyes.
His hair still damp from the shower after practice.
"It's not that hard. You just create what's in your head."
Billy chuckling darkly as he took another step towards you.
"You don't wanna see what's in my head, Princess."
Your heart is pounding in your chest at the nickname. The way he's taking another step towards you, his strong body looming overs yours as you stare up at him.
"Tell me. What's in your head, Billy?" You asked in a low voice.
A confident smirk coming across his face as he dips his finger in some of the paint.
"Bending you over this table, pushing that pretty little dress and making you scream my name."
The heat surged from your stomach to between your legs at the thought of Billy's hands on you. What his lips would taste like, how his cock would feel inside you, the marks he would litter your body with.
He was staring intensely at you. The next move was entirely up to you.
"And then what happens?" You ask in a low voice, taking a step towards him.
A silent yes. That this was okay and you knew how it would end.
And you wanted it as much as he did.
Billy's rough hand comes up and smudges the small streak of paint on your cheek as you stare at him with wide eyes.
"I've always dreamed of fucking in school." He muttered, his finger pressing a little more roughly into your cheek.
"Wanna help me fulfill it?"
You're the one who initiates the kiss. Pressing your lips hungrily against his. It's messy, his hand gripping your neck and pulling you roughly into him. Teeths smashing against each other, lips pressed roughly against each other. Weeks of growing tension are finally being let out.
Billy props you on the paint-stained table with ease, shoving your dress around your waist, his hands roughly gripping your thigh as he drops to your knees.
His nose nudging against your inner thigh as your legs spread more of him, Billy sucking in a breath. Watching transfixed as you push your underwear down your hips, Billy hurriedly helping you remove them.
"You know how much I've thought of this pussy?"
He wastes no time burying his head between your legs. His tongue experimentally came out and swiped between your damp folds. The hitch in your breath, the way your hands clenched together tightly at the motion, was the silent answers Billy nodded.
His nose bumped against your clit as you closed your eyes; his tongue felt like it was everywhere. His large hands gripped your legs tightly. The paint he had put on his fingers spreading across one of your thighs.
Your head fell back as you whimpered above him. Wrapping your legs around his head, holding him tightly as you ground your pussy against his face.
Billy eating your pussy like a man starved. His tongue lapping up your desire filled the room, his nose purposely bumping against your clit. The perfect mixture of his tongue pushing past your folds and nose pushing against your clit.
The way his tongue seems to be working you like he knew every inch of your body. The way you would feel it push through your folds, probing you gently as you whimpered his name.
That coil tightened painfully in your stomach as you tightly clenched your hands. Nails digging roughly into the palm of your hand, leaving crescent-shaped indents in its wake.
"Billy- I- fuck." You pant out, clenching your eyes shut tightly.
Your legs shake as Billy abruptly pulls away from you. Leaving you on that vicious precipice, your entire body feeling like it had been set alight.
"Why did-" You whimper out as Billy smirks at you.
His lips and chin glisten with your juices as he stands up. Wasting no time in undoing his belt, the outline of his hard cock evident through his tight jeans.
"You really think I'm not feeling you cum around my cock the first time?" He laughs in a low voice, shaking his head at you. Watching as pushes his jeans down, pulling out his hard cock as you nibble on your bottom lip. Slightly daunted by his size.
Billy smirking down at you.
"Never seen one this big have you, Princess? You're wondering if you'll be able to take it."
He wasn't lying. Sure, your previous dalliances hadn't been small, but they hardly had the same girth and length as Billy's.
Though any doubt is ripped from your mind when he roughly grips your legs, pulling you towards him before gripping his cock. Stroking it a few times as he groans above you, the head leaking with pre-cum.
"You'll be fine," He mutters, his head nudging your wet entrance. Your hands try to find some grounding, clenching your hands tightly as Billy pushes his tip inside you. "I'll take good care of you, Princess."
Billy grunted as he pushed into you. Your nails dug into his strong muscles as your body pushed by force up the dirty table. Billy staring intensely down at you. "You okay?" He manages to rasp out.
"So fucking tight." He mutters, still gauging your reaction. The small nod of your head is all he needed before roughly moving inside you.
Your back arching off the table as you gasp out his name, Billy groaning at the sound of his name falling from your lips. You know that you get caught at any moment, anyone could walk by and see what you two were doing.
Yet, for some reason, that only added to the pleasure that was rippling through your body. He felt all-encompassing like you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he slowly moved inside you. His golden chest flush against yours, his blue eyes staring intensely into your own. The way his hands were moving over pieces of your body, holding your arm, briefly gripping your neck or hitching a thigh over broad shoulder.
Both of you groan loudly as he pushes deeper inside you.
The crude sound of flesh slapping against flesh and breathless pants drowning out the sound of the forgotten music that was still playing in the background.
"You close, baby?" He mutters in a low voice.
You could feel yourself falling over the edge, but it was like you couldn't quite reach it. Clenching your eyes shut as you shake your head, feeling Billy twitch inside you as he lets out a mumble.
His hand reached out and slipped between the two of you. His thumb brushing against your clit as he hitches the other leg over his shoulder. Watching you intensely as you moan out his name, arching off the table.
The firm pressure of his thumb circling clit is what you needed. Hands clenching roughly together as your legs cramp and shake.
"Billy- fuck!" You hiss out, tightening around him as you see white.
Your entire body goes stiff as Billy stares down in amazement. Watching you fall apart beneath him. It's always the most beautiful fucking sight he's ever seen.
Seeing a woman completely lost in pleasure and because of him.
It was the biggest fucking ego boost.
And it always made him cum so fucking hard.
Groaning out your name as he spills himself inside you. Groaning as he fucks into you roughly a few times before gently pulling out. Gently dropping your legs as you both groan at the loss of closeness.
You lay there for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Billy carefully tucks himself back into his jeans.
He watches as you finally sit up, pushing your dress back down and stare at Billy nervously before chuckling.
"How long have you been watching me?" You finally ask.
Billy glancing up at you as he does up his belt, shrugging his shoulders.
"Awhile."
You nod as you jump off the table, searching the ground before finding your discarded underwear. Billy watching as you slip them back on and glance at Billy.
"You gonna ask?" You finally say, Billy quirking a brow at you.
"Ask what?"
"Ask me out?"
Billy chuckles lowly as he reaches into his top pocket, producing his crumbled pack of cigarettes. Whacking it into his palm a few times before pulling out a cigarette and pinching it between his lips.
"I did ask you out. You turned me down."
You smirk lowly at him.
"That's before I knew what you had in your pants."
Billy smirked and took a step towards you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"You know I've always wanted to learn how to paint." He says in a low voice.
"Is that, right?"
He nods his head, pulling out his lighter and lighting up his cigarette with ease.
"I'd be far more receptive to art if you let me paint you naked." He suggests.
All you can do is smirk up at Billy.
"I think we can arrange that."
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writethrough · 3 months
Text
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” 
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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.” 
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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. 
1K notes · View notes
rafescurtainbangz · 12 days
Note
My wife is so hot 🫦
Also I’m on my knees begging for Billy smut. Just a little. Just something. A few lines of daddy 😩😩😩
My wife is hotter 💅✨
Unedited
+18 Minor DNI
unprotected p in v; rough but in a fun way
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“BILLY STOP FUCKING BITING ME. JESUS,” you shout, pushing him off as he smiles at you wickedly.
“What? Thought you liked my bites,” he asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, soothing the sting with a few kisses, only to do it again. You throw back your elbow, jabbing him in his stomach, his abs making your act of aggression laughable.
“I'm trying to write, Billy. C'mon,” you whine as he wraps you up a little tighter in his arms. “Leave me alone, or I'm gonna kick your ass.”
“Woah… Wait, doll. Are we scrappin’?”He chuckles through a gravelly laugh. “You're gonna kick my ass?” He asks as he points to himself, with a taunting smile.
“Yeah… And, I’d win too,” you sass, knowing there's no way he's gonna let this go, playing into his game. You stand up from your chair chest-to-chest with Bills. “So, are you gonna do anything, Hargrove? Or, are you just gonna stand there like a bitch-” He cuts you off, lifting you over his shoulder, walking with you to the living room as you put up a fight.
He lays down on the fluffy carpet, beckoning you to straddle his lap. You sit on top of him, resting your hands on the chest of his crisp white t-shirt. “I'll even give you a headstart, princess.”
“How are you already hard?” You tease as you circle your hips on his rock-hard buldge through his grey sweats.
“I got hard when you elbowed me,” he answers with a smile, making you roll your eyes. “So, are you gonna do anything, baby doll, or are you just gonna sit there like a bi-” You cut off his words with a decent slap to the cheek, making his mouth fall open in disgust.
“That hurt,” he spits.
“And, your bites feel great,” you retort, delivering another slap, causing him to gasp playfully.
“Didn't think you had it in you, kid,” he taunts. Reaching around, smacking your ass rougher than ever, making you scream. Your hands bind around his throat, squeezing tightly, making him returna crooked smile.
He quickly rolls you to your back, your hands still firmly wrapped. The veins in his neck protruded, that same smile still slicked on his lips. He grabs your wrists, pinning them against the carpet with a bruising grip.
Billy releases his hold, sitting on top of you, giving you his full weight as you wriggle and protest. “Damn, baby. You’re kind of a pussy,” he rasps as he moves his hands up your body slowly, landing on your neck, taking his turn choking you.
You release a choked moan as he starts to grind himself into you, nudging your clit with each roll of his hips. His hands trail back down your body, rising slightly on his knees as he plays with the band of your shorts.
“Where are you goin’? Huh?” Billy shouts, giving you just enough room to flee. You crawl away, only for Billy to grab for you, pulling you back as well as your shorts off your body. He smacks your bare ass, holding you in place as he yanks his sweatpants down.
“Billy!” You squeal, fighting away from him with minimal effort this time, hoping for this outcome all along.
“What?”He snickers. “I won. Just claiming my prize.” He groans as he clutches his hard cock in his fist, running the tip through your soaked folds.
“Prizes? Don’t remember talkin’ about that - BILLY!” You scream as he slams his thick dick deep.”
“Well you’re gettin’ this dick, baby. Maybe you’re the winner. Hmm?” He snickers at his own stupid joke as he throws his hips into you rapidly.
“Too much, Bills,” you whimper.
“You tappin’ out, princess?” He grunts. “We just got started. We gotta toughen you up a lil bit.” Billy throws you to your back, quickly ripping off his shirt. Your eyes follow the indentaitions of his abs to his deep v-lines, so distracted by his body that you gasp again when he ruts himself in again. "Fuck. You're so tight, y/n," he moans, lowly.
You can feel him stretching you out; a sharp pressure between your thighs. He continues pounding you into the floor, breasts bouncing with each thrust. He lifts your t-shirt exposing your tits before giving one a slap.
“Ouch, Billy!”
“Please-” he chuckles as he sees the want in your eyes.
Billy moves his hands under your neck, propping your head up so you can see. “Bet my little slut wants to watch. Don’tcha?” He teases, but he’s right. You watch as your soaked cunt swallows up his dick, hitting the right spot each time. "Fuck, y/n. Look at you taking me so well," he burns, his forehead pressed against yours. “Can’t take me in a fight but you can take my cock like a champ,” he bullies, running his tongue along his plump bottom lip.
A familiar heat builds inside you. You close your walls around him, gripping him harder. His brows knit tight. "Mmm... I love when you do that," he moans. His lips crash into yours, messy kisses as the two of you fight for air.
“You know if you cum before me, Bills, I win,” you pant against his lips, feeling him smile along yours.
“And, when has that ever happend, sweetheart?” He breathes as his fingers meet your clit, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably.
“You’re gonna cum. Aren’t you?” He groans. “I can tell.”
“M’not”
"Your not?” He teases as he moves his fingers quicker.
“Fuck, Billy,” you moan, arching your back as your orgasm washes over your body. Billy pushes even deeper, flooding you with his climax. His fingers dig into your hips, mucles clenching as he fucks out the last bit of his pleasure and yours.
"Fuck, baby," he groans. “I won.”
Tag List: @voyeurmunson @billysbot @gri959 @beautifuldisaster88 @redhead1180 @xo-billy-hargrove-ox @hippiegoth97 @cutielando @Akashababy @struckey @struckstarkey @strangerthings93 @floredaqueen
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bookshelf-dust · 1 year
Text
fix me up
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billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 1,425
warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/sexual innuendos, basically billy being a flirty little shit, mentions of back pain, fluff
a/n: hiii!! i came up with this a few days ago and i’ve been in love with it but now i’m feeling a little iffy about it, so i hope someone out there in the void likes it. happy reading! love you!! <33
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“I think that if I have to lift a squirmy toddler up one more time, I’m just going to fucking die.”
“That seems a little dramatic.”
You’re sat on your knees next to where Billy lays flat on his back, his palms pressed to his eyes. You reach forward and rub your hand over his forehead, fingers smoothing over his hair. 
He moves his hands, looking up at you like he always does when you’re sweet with him. He raises his brows for a moment, a little confused, but then he leans into it, allowing himself to enjoy your affection. 
His hair is still a little damp from the shower he had when he got home, washing the smell of chlorine from his skin. 
You drag your thumb over the slit in his eyebrow, across the circles under his eyes, lingering on the freckles he has. They’re your favorite part of him, you’ve decided.
Billy shifts a little, like he’s uncomfortable, his eyes scrunching closed in pain. 
“Something hurtin’ you, baby?” 
He grabs for your wrist when you take it away, smacking a kiss to your pulse point. 
“My back’s fucking killin’ me.”
You pout for just a second, though he misses it because his eyes are still closed. 
It’s a dull ache that travels from his lower back, up his spine, and spreads at his shoulders. He’s sore. And his sides hurt, too. He can practically still feel the little feet kicking the shit out of him as he tried to convince the kids they were not, in fact, going to sink.
Not with floaties on, and not with him there. Not on their backs.
“Want me to rub it for you?”
Billy snorts. “You’d do that?”
You readjust so you’re sitting cross-legged. “I mean, I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it, but I’m willing to try to see if it’ll make you feel better.”
“I have complete faith in you.” 
“Liar.”
He grins at you before he’s grabbing your face with both hands to pull you down to his level. He kisses you once; his mouth is warm and he’s a little stubbly, though it’s not like you mind. 
When he pulls away, Billy sits up and flips so that he’s laying on his tummy, socked feet up by the pillows.
You go to straddle the backs of his thighs, but he’s sitting up again. “Wait—wait,” he says. He yanks his shirt off over his head and throws it somewhere behind him on the bed. 
You roll your eyes. “Show off.”
“Like you don’t want your hands on me.”
You choose this moment to slap him on the ass. He groans and crosses his arms so he can rest his face on them, cheek squishing up so he looks much less menacing than he would’ve hoped. 
You settle with your knees on either side of his hips, placing your hands on the skin of his back. He shivers, and you fight a grin. 
Billy is so warm. He's like a space heater. It takes seconds for the tips of your fingers to warm up against him. You run your hands over the planes of his back, down the dip in his spine. 
“I’m gonna touch you, and I need you to tell me where it hurts, okay?” 
Billy hums. Having you on him like this is comforting, he thinks. He likes feeling the weight of you against him, likes your hands running all over him. Even if you do keep skimming his ass because you can’t help yourself. 
You rest your palms against his lower back. “Here right?” You lean down and kiss the spot. 
“Yeah,” he says. 
“Where else?” you ask. You put some lotion on your hands so as to not make him uncomfortable, warming it up before you touch him. He fights the urge to make a joke about you lubing him up. 
Your hands slide upwards, over his shoulder blades. “There,” he grumbles.
“That all?”
“My sides.”
You put your hands back against his soft spot, and rub them up and outwards in a sort of sweeping motion. “So, like, this whole spot?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“‘Kay. You’ll tell me if something hurts or if you want it harder, right?”
Billy snorts at the sexual connotation that your words carry. He’s laughing because he’s asked you the same questions before. And he likes that you’re the one asking them now. 
“Billy,” you whine. 
“You know I will.” 
You start with his lower back, pressing your hands firmer than you had been against his skin. You rub in that same motion you’d used before, fingers spreading and trying to push the tension out. 
He hasn’t complained yet, so you assume he’s doing fine. Assume you’re doing fine. 
You keep doing that, rubbing his back and thinking about how you might do your own, reaching and sort of massaging the area to relieve the pain. 
When you look up at him, Billy’s eyes are closed. It’s like he’s sinking into the mattress. It makes you smile. 
You move to his shoulders. Your palms dig into the squish of his back, tanned skin and freckles moving under your touch. You push upwards, and hear him sigh. 
Billy feels like he could die. Your hands feel so good and his mind is so muddled he’s not even sure he could form a coherent thought. He knows that if he’s like this and you’re only doing his back, he’d just dissolve if you touched anything else. 
You start on his back again, remembering that he’d said it was bothering him the most. You use both of your thumbs and start at the very base of his spine, just above the waistband of his underwear, pushing hard. 
You’ve only done this once when he moans. 
“Ohhh, fuck.”
You stop. You’re giggling at the way he’s melting underneath you and it’s making you heat up in more ways than one. 
Billy turns his head to look at you, half asleep, blanket lines on his cheek. “Why’d you quit?” he grumbles. 
You grin. “You’re moaning, William.”
He rolls his eyes and face plants back into the comforter on his bed. “Am not.”
You laugh and he reaches back with one hand, blindly swatting at you. He misses but is too sleepy and entranced to do anything but relent, so your thumbs find his back again, pushing in the same motion. 
This time Billy let’s put a low sigh, like the tension is being released from his back. You push a little harder, rubbing up a little further. He does it again, brows furrowing. He knows that he moaned for you. He’s trying not to do it again but he’s losing the battle. 
“That good, huh?” you tease. 
Billy’s eyes fly open and he pushes up onto his elbows. He’s said those exact words to you so many times it’s like he doesn’t even have to think about it anymore. 
He’s not sure he wants to admit how much he likes this power you hold over him. 
You take your hands off of him and place them over your mouth to keep from laughing. You’re so proud of yourself and Billy swears he feels his heart swell at your antics. 
“Do you want me to stop?” you ask. “Clearly I wasn’t hurting you.” You’re laughing again and you lower yourself to rest your forehead against his back. He can feel your breath and your body shaking with giggles. 
“Kiss my ass,” he says. He runs a hand down his face. 
When you take him up on his offer, planting a kiss on the side of his ass cheek–even if it is on top of the cotton shorts he’s wearing–Billy breaks. 
He laughs. It’s a warm and happy sound. He seriously can’t believe you. 
The both of you are laughing like children, so loud that Max screams down the hall for you to “shut the hell up,” but that only makes it worse. 
“Okay,” you start, trying to catch your breath. “Okay. Holy shit.” Your hand slides back up his back, fingers running up and down his spine, giving him goosebumps. “You feel any better? Or you want me to keep going?”
Billy flops back down into the mattress. “Please don’t stop. Need you to fix me up.”
You adjust yourself so that you’re sitting directly against the curve of his ass this time. You lean down to whisper into his ear, hands massaging at his sides. 
“I think I can fix you up just fine, baby.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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rainforest-daisies · 5 months
Text
Day 29|Orgasm control
Character: billy hargrove x afab!reader
Tags: fingering, edging, overstimulation, no PIV
A/n: this month really flew by huh…
Kinktober masterlist
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“Nu-uh, stop writhing those hips. You’ll get what you want, just gotta be patient.” His fingers thrust into your tight cunt, loud squelching filled the room as he did so. His radio quietly played in the background, a popular rock song acquainting the moans of his name.
Your begs filled the air, continuous edging had caused your legs to weaken and chest to heave as every spark of pleasure. Your body was sensitive, whines slipping from your lips as you begged, begged, begged for him. The lack of ties holding your arms, and the desperate need to be closer to Billy, drove your hands to drag through his tangled locks, landing themselves on his muscular shoulders.
“C’mon, babe. You've been good, you can cum for me.” Your legs trembled, head pressing harshly against the pillow under you as the long-awaited orgasm took over your body. His hand never slowed down, causing your body to jolt after your ragged breathing had calmed down. Mere minutes ago, you would have begged for the overstimulation, words dripping with desire simply to feel the overwhelming pleasure he could bring you, yet now, you’re begging him to slow down.
“You want me to slow down? But we just started, baby. Why would I do that?”
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