Billy Hargrove Imagines

Blurryface

Request: "Hey I would like to request a cute fluff fanfiction with billy. Don't get me wrong, I also like the smut with billy but sometimes it's a little bit too rough and I don't like this whole 'call him daddy' thing."/ "Oh please just some billy fluff"/ "Could you please do like a fluffy imagine of Billy ? Some character development for him would be amazing!"

Warnings: cursing, mentions of abuse

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

Summary: Billy wanted nothing more than to let you in, to let you know him. You were the only person who didn't make him feel as though he was already gone.

Word Count: 1,533

Listen To: Goner by Twenty One Pilots

I'm a goner

Somebody catch my breath

I'm a goner

Somebody catch my breath

I wanna be known, by you

I wanna be known, by you

Billy watched you silently, his chin resting on his palm. You were sat in front of him in the library, working on your AP Lit homework. Finals were coming up in two weeks, and you had been spending 75% of your time study for them. The other 25% of your time you had spent with Billy, and he couldn't fathom why someone like that would want to be with him. His own textbooks and notebooks were laid in front of him, practically untouched. He'd been spending the past half an hour watching you study rather than doing his own work. The way pieces of your (h/c) hair fell from your messy bun and into your face, the way your eyes would scan the information before you, occasionally glaring at things you couldn't understand. That was his favorite thing; the fact that you thought you could intimidate your textbook into handing you the answers you needed.

"Ya know, babe, if you spend more time looking at your textbook than at me, you might be able to pass your Econ class," you said suddenly, not even glancing up from writing your notes. Billy's breath got caught in his throat-of course you knew he was looking at you.

"I'd rather study you, gorgeous. I'm positive I could pass your class any night," he fired back, sending you a wink when you looked up in shock. Billy barely had time to duck as you flung one of your pink erasers at him.

Though I'm weak

Beaten down

I'll slip away

Into the sound

The ghost of you

Is close to me

I'm inside out

You're underneath

A few days later, Billy found himself on the floor of your bedroom. He had a bruise resting under his cheekbone, and a cut beside his eye. Soft music played throughout the room, filling the emptiness. It was late, around 11 o'clock. His dad had gotten upset when Billy came home late from basketball practice. He had been out looking for a new record to get you for when you passed your finals (he knew you were going to), after all the hard work you had put into them. The family dinner at 7 had totally slipped his mind.

You sat beside him, switching between playing with his hair and the earring that dangled from his ear. Billy didn't like to talk about things when they happened. He would show up at your front door, your mom would let him in with a smile, and you would patch him up. An hour later your mom would bring the two of you something to eat before 'heading off to bed'-also known as eavesdropping from the other room. So you didn't press him, because the last time you did, he had run out of your house so fast you were amazed he wasn't on the track team. Therefore, you opted for your silent comfort: playing with his hair, running your hands over his arms or legs, and making sure his injuries were tended too. Anything to keep his mind off of his dad. But tonight was different.