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erisnoxauthor · 1 year

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Unholy Halloween Night

Summary: Billy takes his girl to a Halloween party and things get a little hot...

Warnings: Mature Themes 18+ *minors do not interact* fem reader (OC), p in v, alcohol and drug use, hints of abuse, fingering, overstimulation, sir kink, hair pulling [I think I covered everything, if I didn't please let me know!]

Celine is my OC, I don't own Billy Hargrove (although I wish I did ;} )

This is my first published piece anywhere! Let me know what you think!! xoxo Eris <3

Billy pulled the Camaro to a stop of in front of a house Celine hadn't seen before. "Do you know these people?" She asked, looking over to her boyfriend as he lit a cigarette in the dark of the car. He shrugged his leather clad shoulders. "Party is a party babe." Celine rolled her eyes, tugging on the pleather of her sexy nurse costume. Billy stepped out of the car, skirting the hood and coming to open her door. She stood from her seat, pressing her hands to his exposed chest, that red button up always undone way to low.

Billy's lips pulled into a smirk, pressing them roughly to hers. "Damn you taste good." He mumbles against her mouth. Celine fisted her hands into his jacket, pulling herself closer to him. She had been aching for him all day.

"You want to skip the party?" Celine asked, sliding her hand down his toned abs. Billy grabbed her wrist , stopping her path to his semi-hard dick, his eyes dark with lust. "I want to be drunk right now. Last night was fucking shit and today wasn't much better." Celine nodded, a look of concern on her face, stepping aside so he could close the door. Billy tossed the cigarette, pushing the door of the car closed.

She laced her hand in his, following him up the sidewalk to the house. The door was open and music poured into the front yard. Bodies lingered everywhere, drinks in almost every hand. She stayed behind Billy as he made a way through the crowd, the throng of people parting like the red sea when they saw him. Nobody messed with Billy Hargrove. Nobody.

He let her hand go when they made it to the kitchen, grabbing a cup for them both and handing one to her. Celine took a small sip of the cheap beer, wrinkling her nose at the taste. She liked fruity stuff a whole lot more than horse piss.

Billy tossed back what was in the cup, licking his lips as he sat it down on the table and surveyed the scene. Almost everyone was dressed in some kind of stupid costume. He turned his gaze back to his girlfriend. Celine currently wore a sexy nurse outfit, barley covering the tops of her thighs. The zipper looked ready to pop between her breast. Fuck it was going to be a long night.

They had been there a little over an hour, socializing with friends and dancing in the living room. Celine slid her ass across Billy's crotch, earing a look as he roughly gripped her hips. "I said drinking first." Celine laughed, turning her body and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I need you though." He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue darting out to lick her mouth. Celine obliged, opening her mouth to him. Their tongues intertwined, fighting one another for dominance. Celine groaned, threading her fingers into Billy's curls. She pulled slightly, earning her ass a rough squeeze. He pulled back, a breath away from her lips. "Are you going to make me fuck you right in front of everyone?"

Celine bit her lip, sliding her hand down his shoulder and his broad chest. "If that's what it takes." Billy grabbed her elbow, towing her toward the kitchen. He grabbed another cup and poured a hefty shot of liquor into the red plastic.

He took a drink, his ocean eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed, lost in the arousal forming between her legs. He pulled the cup from his lips, sitting in on the counter. "You're in for it baby girl." She looked down, a blush forming over her cheeks.

Billy caught her attention when he groaned, grabbing another cup from the table and swallowing half of it.

Celine followed Billy's line of sight to Tommy H and Carol pushing their way through the crowd. Tommy thought he and Billy were best friends but truthfully, Billy hated him. "Hey man!" Tommy shouted over the music. Billy nodded his head, fishing his cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of his leather jacket. He already looked irritated as hell.

"Well look at you Miss Nurse lady, maybe I'll get hurt later." Billy snapped his head toward Tommy, the other boy taking several steps back, his hands in the air. "Just a joke man." Tommy cleared his throat. "Hey, they have a keg out back. You want to reclaim your title?"

Billy shrugged, blowing smoke into the air. "I didn't know I had lost it." Tommy scratched the back of his head. "Well you didn't but.."

Billy tightened his arm around Celine. "Let's get outside babe." Celine followed him, wafting away the smell of pot hanging thickly in the air. She watched as Billy let her go, walking over to the keg in the midst of "Keg King! Keg King! Keg King!"

Two boys Celine recognized from the basketball team lifted him up by his legs as he held the nozzle, swallowing as much as he could. Billy wasn't always the best to be around when he was drunk but sometimes Celine understood. That was his one escape from his shit hole father. He couldn't think so he couldn't remember.

When the boys let Billy down, Celine snapped out of her thoughts. "Almost a whole fucking minute Hargrove! Fifty three seconds!" Billy stumbled against one of the players that had been holding him, reclaiming his cigarette. He slid the butt into his mouth and held both hands up triumphantly. The chants began again.

"Keg King! Keg King! Keg King!" Billy swayed over to Celine, tossing the cigarette into someone's mother's flower garden. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her roughly against his body. "Let's find somewhere a little more private."

Celine followed Billy up the stairs into the first room they came to, a bathroom. He closed and locked the door, turning toward her. His eyes were glassy from the alcohol and his cigarette smoke and the mint gum currently in his mouth filled the bathroom.

Celine gasped when he pushed her back against the sink, slotting his thigh in between her legs. "Billy," Billy continued sucking on her neck, marking her as his. There would definitely be little bruises in his wake.

Billy slid his hand down to her breast, palming the heavy globe through the fabric of her outfit. She covered her hand with his. "Fuck me," Celine whispered into the small room. "I need you." Billy pulled back from her throat, slowly unzipping the front of her sexy nurses outfit. Her breast spilled free, nipples hard. Billy pushed the fabric back and bent his head, taking one into his mouth.

Celine tossed her head back, her hands gripping his hair as he sucked her breast. "Yes," He moved to the other one, giving it equal attention. Billy slid his hand up her skirt, his fingers brushing the thin fabric covering her pussy. He groaned, feeling the heat coming from her, the wet spot already formed on her panties. He slid the fabric aside, sliding the tip of his finger through her wet folds. God she was wet.

"Are you ready for me baby?" Celine nodded, pushing her breast out as she pulled at her nipple. Billy raised an eyebrow. "I didn't hear you." "Yes sir," She spoke quietly, pushing her soaked pussy toward his hand. "Please touch me." He slid two fingers into her, curling his fingers.

"You have to help me first babe." Celine looked down, his eyes widening at the bulge forming in his pants. She made quick work of his belt and undid the last few buttons on his shirt, pushing it back. She unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers. His thick cock sprang free, slapping against his belly. A bead of precum already forming on the head.

Celine reached down, circling his cock with one hand. she swiped her thumb across the head, gathering the cum and bringing it to her mouth. She stared into Billy's eyes, his breath coming unevenly. Her tongue darted out, licking it off the pad of her thumb.

Billy smirked, he loved what a slut she could be. Just for him. But he was just as desperate as she was at this point and there was no time for play. He pulled her fingers from her pussy, sticking them into his mouth and licking off her arousal. Billy winked and Celine, her pupils blow at the small touch. He helped her off the sink, jerking her panties down her legs and pushing her skirt up. Billy put his hand in the center of her back, pushing her forward. The globes of her ass were on display to him and he could see her glistening arousal in the light.

Billy pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling the condom he kept for times just like these out. He tossed the wallet onto the sink beside her head and tore open the foil packet with his teeth. Billy rolled the condom down his hard length. No more little Hargrove's. That shit hole blood line stopped with him.

He gripped her hips, lining himself up, he pushed into her. Celine gasped. No matter how many times they fucked, she couldn't get past how big he was. He seated himself all the way, giving her time to adjust, massaging her hip.

Celine pushed back against him, signaling she was ready. Billy slowly withdrew before slamming back into her. He picked a rough pace. His balls slapping her clit with each thrust. Celine bit into her fist to keep from screaming, her small gasps still escaping. She looked in the mirror, meeting Billy's eyes as he fucked into her.

He winked, leaning forward to change the angle. Celine cried out as the head of his dick pounded against her sweet spot over and over. "Be my good girl, cum for me." He reached around, circling her clit with his left hand. Billy held eye contact with her in the mirror. Neither of them would last long.

He pussy clinched around his cock. The coil in her stomach felt like it is going to burst. Her orgasm took her by surprise, causing her to cry out. Billy covered her mouth with his free hand, helping her ride out her high. He continued to play with her clit in slow, lazy circles.

Tears streamed down her face at the overstimulation. She made eye contact with Billy in the mirror, her hands braced on the edge of the skin as he continued to roughly thrust into her. "Can you be a good girl and not yell?" She nodded her head, his hand still over her mouth. "Promise?" He grunted, his fingers digging into her hips. She squeezed her eyes shut, nodding furiously. He removed his hand, gripping her hips with both, chasing his own high.

Billy's thrust became erratic, his breathing ragged. His hips stilled as he came, spilling inside of her. Celine closed her eyes, her pussy clenching at the feeling. He let out a groan, his eyes closed and head thrown back. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. His necklace stuck to his sweaty chest.

He stayed like that, soaking in the feel of her hot core around him. He could feel his cock softening, party from the alcohol, partly from the amazing orgasm he had just had.

Billy hissed as he pulled his cock from her. She stood, feeling her arousal sticky between her thighs. She turned into her boyfriend's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his throat. He bent his head to kiss her temple. "My girl," Celine smiled against his skin. "Always,"

She untangled herself, stepping back and grabbed some toilet tissue to clean herself up. She slid her panties back up her legs, pulling her skirt back into place and fluffing her hair. Billy tossed the used condom into the trash, stuffing himself back into his jeans and fastening his belt. He rebuttoned his shirt and tucked it back into his jeans. Celine turned, resting her hip on the sink. She watched quietly as Billy pulled his cigarette back from his jacket, putting one between his lips and lighting it.

He tilted his head back, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. She stepped toward him, pressing her cheek to his chest, listening to his heart beat. He wrapped his free arm around her, squeezing her ass. making Celine laugh. "Never enough for you is it?" He watched as she took his cigarette from his lips, placing it between her own and taking a long drag. "Not when it's from the most amazing girl in the world." He paused, taking back his cigarette. "Not from my girl."

Celine stood on her tip toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Come on baby, I need a beer."

Billy laughed, opening the door for her. "There's my girl."

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alloftheimagines · 2 years

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billy hargrove | drunk again

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.6k

warnings: 18+. triggering topics. read with care.

billy struggles with alcoholism, reader's dad was also an alcoholic, mentions of abuse, blood, violence, strong language, hurt/comfort

prompts: Hey, could u write something about billy hargrove? It can be anything u want but maybe it can mention about how he struggles with alcoholism and tries to be better for the reader? It's okay if u don't want to!!

"Just because you're angry, it doesn't give you the right to be cruel." Billy x Reader angst but maybe happy ending? You don’t have to do a happy ending though, whatever feels right to you 💞

tags: @whiskeypowder @lil-stark @m0rning-st4r @findleynovadachs111

You’re beginning to despise parties. You and Billy used to love blowing off steam, dancing, getting a little tipsy, having fun. But these days, Billy doesn’t drink for fun. He drinks to forget. Almost every night. Not just at parties, but whenever he can. He’ll use his lunch break to fill his hip flask with whiskey. Open a beer, two, three, as soon as you get home from work.

You’re losing him. You feel it. You’re just too afraid to tell him. The few times you’ve tried to gently broach the subject, he’s gotten angry and shut down, and that only leads to more drinking. More fighting. More him sleeping on the couch while you lie awake in the next room, wondering how the hell you can help him if he won’t let you in.

You try to forget when you get to Steve’s that night. The two of you go your separate ways, Billy catching up with his old classmates and you with yours. But anxiety pulses through you, relentless, constant, and you can’t keep your gaze from wandering every few minutes just to see if you spot him. Just to see if he’s already wasted.

He is. Not two hours later, Steve pulls you aside to tell you that Billy’s all over the place, and he’s trying to start a fight — not for any particular reason. He’ll prod the first guy he’ll find. You know this about him. Hate it about him. Steve’s often on the receiving end, but apparently he knows something’s wrong too, because he looks at you with more concern than you know how to handle before guiding you to the kitchen.

Billy is mouthing off, drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle as he jabs an accusing finger at Tommy H. “You’re a real sleazy prick, man. What is it? Mommy doesn’t love you enough?”

“Hey,” you interrupt, standing between them and nudging Billy backwards. He doesn’t look at you, eyes sparkling with hatred even through the haze of his drunkenness as he glares at Tommy. “Please don’t start a fight tonight, Billy. It’s not worth it.”

He doesn’t even seem to hear you, swaying against the kitchen counter. You cup his jaw, tilting his face down to look at you, but he’s reluctant. He fights you. The stench of drink rolls off him, and you dread to think how much he’s had tonight. It looks a lot. More than most nights.

“Don’t,” you plead again, locking your gaze onto his. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“That’s right,” Tommy pipes up from behind. “Do what your bitch says, Hargrove. You wanna talk about my mommy? Where the hell’s yours?”

It’s all it takes. In a nanosecond, you’re shoved out of the way. Billy yanks the collar of Tommy’s shirt, fists so tight his knuckles turn white as he bares his teeth. The crowd parts as he presses him up against the wall opposite. You’ve seen Billy fight before, but you’ve never seen him like this. Trembling. So full of rage that you can’t find the man you love there. He’s a stranger. And you know it’s the drink — and whatever it is that eats him up inside. His mom. His dad. His grief and his fear and his anger.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” he demands, but his words are slurred.

“Billy,” you beg again, attempting to go to him, but Steve holds you back. Maybe he’s right to. Billy just pushed you away like you were a piece of paper cluttering his desk. Like you weren’t there at all. He doesn’t see you, and that…

Well, maybe that makes him dangerous.

“Don’t even get me started on your dad.” Tommy’s grin is oily as he looks down at Billy. “We all know he knocks you around. Still not man enough to stop him, are you?”

You turn cold. If there’s one thing that will trigger Billy, it’s his dad.

And it does. Billy’s fist pounds into Tommy’s jaw without warning, and then again, again, again. Tommy fights back, aiming for Billy’s nose, his stomach, anywhere he can get. You’re certain you’re screaming, or maybe it’s everyone else. You don’t know anymore. There is something so harrowing, so world-ending, about seeing what Billy is capable of under the influence.

And for the first time, you can’t be certain that you trust him with your safety.

But you can’t just sit and watch with the rest of them. You wriggle out of Steve’s grip desperately, fingers clawing at Billy’s jacket as you try to pull him away. “Enough! Stop it!”

He whips around, swiping, expression wild and untethered and not his. You dodge his fist by a metre, ducking at the last second. He falters at the sight of you, the sight of tears rolling down your face, and it’s the distraction Steve needs to come between him and Tommy. You’re vaguely aware of him telling Tommy to fuck off, get out, go, but Billy is still staring at you through low, heavy lids, sweat glistening on his forehead, and you both know something has been broken tonight.

Finally, Billy breaks away, yelling over Steve’s shoulder, “I better not see you anywhere near me again, you hear me? Piece of fucking shit.” He spits, arms waving wildly — until they’re not. Until he slumps against the kitchen counter, instantly picking up his bottle of whiskey. As the crowd scatters under Steve’s command, Billy takes a swig and then shouts, curses. “Fuck!” The bottle turns to shards as it hits the wall, the remaining liquid staining the white tiles brown. You both flinch.

“You need to calm down, man,” Steve says softly.

“Fuck you, Harrington.” The words are empty, if not a little bitter.

You close your eyes for a moment, gulping down your tears as the kitchen becomes quiet. Empty. “That’s enough,” you say. “It’s enough, Billy. Please… enough.”

Billy sucks in a few shallow breaths, chest rising and falling, before his upper lip curls into a sneer and he begins ransacking the fridge for more beer. “Whatever.”

“No.” You manoeuvre around Steve, catching Billy’s hand before he can raise a fresh can to his mouth. Your own shake and he must notice because he looks down as though he’s never felt your touch before. “Enough.”

“You gonna start telling me what I can and can’t do now, sweetheart?” Billy sways against you.

You shake your head, exhaustion setting in. “Steve, can you give us a minute?”

“I don’t think—”

You cut Steve’s protest off quickly. “Please. We’re fine. He won’t hurt me.”

Hesitantly, Steve nods. “Feel free to crash in the guest bedroom tonight if you can’t get him home.”

It’s a possibility. Billy is tall, broad, heavy, and he can barely stand. As Steve leaves, you turn your back to your boyfriend, grabbing a solo cup from the stack and filling it with water at the sink.

“Fuckin’ hurt you,” Billy is muttering nonsensically, slamming the beer down on the counter. “Who the fuck’s he think he is? ‘Course I won’t fuckin’ hurt you. You’re my girlfriend. Jesus.”

You turn around and, feeling numb, eye his injuries. A bloody nose. Bruised knuckles. A swollen mouth. Jesus. You don’t know how much longer you can watch the man you love tear himself apart.

But you do love him, even now. You always have. Always will. And you know that you can’t give up on him, because that’s what he’s waiting for. He’s never known love before. Only pain and abuse. You plan on changing that, no matter how long it takes.

“Sit down,” you order, hoping your voice sounds stronger than it feels. "Drink this."

Billy rolls his eyes but does as told, not without huffs and puffs and a few stumbles. You grab a cloth from under the sink and then fill it with ice from the bucket where the beer is chilled. You get another for the blood, and then round the counter to meet Billy. He sits on a stool, legs spread wide, shoulders sagging, eyes unfocused, and it breaks your heart.

Still, when you eye him carefully, he pulls you in by the waist, hands warm and rough. It would usually make you grin, but tonight, it makes you want to cry. You clean up his bloody nose while standing between his legs, letting his knees keep you clamped to your own composure.

“You’re mad at me,” he points out.

“No, I’m not,” you reply honestly.

A smirk. “Liar.”

“I’m not mad, Billy. I just wish it wasn’t like this.”

His jaw sets, anger returning to his features. “You’re welcome to fuck anyone else here, babe.”

The words are bitter, sharp, and you flinch from them, dropping the cloth and leaving his prison. “I know you’re drunk and you’re angry, but it doesn’t give you the right to be cruel. Not to me. I put up with your shit, Billy. Don’t throw it back in my face.”

“My shit?” he repeats with a snort. “What shit would that be, huh?”

“The drinking. The mood swings. The fights. I don’t…” Your voice breaks, and you can’t look at him anymore. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you sober. I don’t remember the last time we felt like us. And you won’t talk to me. You shut me out because you only know how to use your fucking fists.”

“We’re not talking about this bullshit again,” he dismisses.

“Exactly. So what will we do? Should we keep pretending like everything is fine, even though it’s not? Even though…” God, you can’t even express how broken you are because you know it isn’t fair. Something is wrong with Billy, and you can’t make it about you. Even if it’s ruining you, too.

“Everything is fine,” Billy snaps.

“I’m trying to be understanding because I know something’s eating at you, baby, but…” Your bottom lip trembles as you remember the feeling of his fist flying at you, the blank, empty look in his eye. “You almost hurt me tonight. You’re not yourself. And I’m scared.” You whisper the last part, a sob rising in you.

His eyes narrow, thumb digging into the counter. “I’d never hurt you.”

“You almost did.”

“Fuck this.” He stands up, but the movement is unsteady and he almost collapses again. You don’t dare go to him this time, and he falls back onto the stool, eyes closing. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Jesus. This needs to stop.”

“What needs to stop? Stop talking down to me!” His fingers curl into his palms again. You do your best not to wonder why.

“I’m not talking down to you, Billy. I’m trying to tell you that this can’t go on!”

“So what?” His head whips up, and he looks surprisingly sharp now. “You gonna break up with me 'cos I got a little drunk at a fucking party? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tears rolling down your face. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. I really can’t.”

“Then don’t! Fuck off! I don’t need you anyway.”

The words sting more than any punch could, and you turn your back to him as your shoulders shake with suppressed sobs. What do you do? If you leave him, he has no reason to change. To get better. You’re telling him that you won’t stand by him when things get tough. But if you stay…

If you stay, he won’t change anyway. You’ll sit by and watch more of him disappear each day, just like you did your dad. Your mom stayed with him too long, and it got you both beaten and empty. You don’t know if you can do it again.

But he’s Billy. You love him. You can’t abandon him.

His sigh wafts through the room. “Baby,” Billy whispers. “Y’know I don’t mean that. Don’t get upset.”

You can say nothing. Do nothing but keep crying, keep wiping away the tears, keep trying to hold it together while he falls apart. It isn’t working anymore. You’re not strong enough.

The legs of the chair scrape against the tiles, and then he’s there, falling into you, eyes bloodshot and intense as he swipes the curtain of hair off your shoulder so he can see you. “Baby,” he repeats, guiltily now. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I’m an ass. I’d never fucking hurt you, okay? I never would.”

“Tell me how to help you,” you beg. You’d get down on your hands and knees if you thought it would make a difference.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” you erupt. “I’ve lived with an alcoholic my whole life. You think I don’t know by now what’s happening? You need help before…”

“Before what?” Lines wrinkle his forehead.

“Before you ruin more than just a party. Before you stop being able to separate people you love and people you hate. Before you lose yourself.”

“You’re being so fucking dramatic—”

“Don’t. Just don’t,” you whisper.

“I’m not your fucking dad!” His shout bellows through the kitchen, stripping you raw.

It takes everything in you not to yell back until your voice turns hoarse. Instead, you mutter, “And you’re not yours. Not yet. But you’re making all the same mistakes. Is that what you want?”

Finally, you see something change. His throat bobs, lips parting in surprise as he staggers back an inch. As though realising how close he is, how intimidating he can be. As though finally seeing things from the outside in. “Don’t ever say shit like that to me.”

“Then what do you want me to say? That it’s okay? It’s not. It’s not okay. None of this is okay.” You take a deep, shuddering breath. “We’re going round in circles. Go sleep it off, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“You’re gonna leave me, aren’t you?” Devastation writes itself across his face agonisingly slowly. “I knew you would.”

Carefully, you inch closer, letting your hands fall on his swollen jaw again. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not giving up on you. But I don’t know how much longer this will work if you don’t get the help you need. I don’t know how much longer either of us can survive like this. God, Billy, I love you… but…” You choke on your tears. “You won’t let me in. Baby, please. Let me in.”

A tear rolls down his cheek, dark eyelashes dampening, and you finally see a glimpse of something real. Something him. “Shit,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.” He bows his head, face scrunching as though in pain. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You pull him close, and he rests his head against your shoulder. You draw soothing circles into his back, inhaling the scent of him: cigarettes and whiskey and spearmint. Aftershave he once kept fresh but that now smells days old. “I know you are. It’s going to be okay.”

He whimpers into the crook of your neck. “Don’t give up on me yet. I’ll be better. I swear to god. I can’t… I can’t do it without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” It’s all you can offer, but he relaxes in your arms, and you prop each other up that way.

“I love you,” he murmurs over and over again, half-drunk and half-asleep until you eventually sink to the floor together. “I’ll be better, baby. I love you. Love you so fuckin’ much.”

“I know,” you reassure him as the minutes tick by, body growing cold against the kitchen tiles. But you have to believe him. You have to hope history won’t repeat itself. You have to stay.

So you do.

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