Bill Skarsgård Imagines { Ongoing }

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏

summary: in which; after a nasty breakup, you run to your best friend Bill's house, the place you always felt the safest.

trigger warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

includes:

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YOU never saw anything scarier than the anger in his eyes as he threw your clothes into a cardboard box, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as you stood in the corner, observing. Unsure of what you've done to upset him this time, you just watched as your world crumbles down around you; once again.

Everything was fine last night. He was whispering in your ear how much he loved you, and playing with your hair—telling you how lucky he is to have you. But today, something snapped inside of him. You woke up to the sound of him cursing and throwing things around the room, dodging a book that was thrown towards your head. "Get out of my house." He tossed the box down the stairs, your hair falling over your face as you left the bedroom.

You keep telling yourself that you wouldn't come back to him. But every single time, he apologizes and tells you that it won't happen again and you give in. Loving someone so much can be torture. Your feet carried you down the stairs, your hands shakily picking up the box that held your belongings, Jason's lanky figure right behind you. He shoved you out the front door, your cheeks stained with tears. "Please." You pleaded, looking up at him, looking for any sign of remorse. But there was none. Just darkness.

He slammed the front door, the sound of the lock turning making tears flow from your eyes again. Sitting the box down, you pulled out your phone to check the time. 4:30am. The dark sky engulfed you, your fingers fumbling with the keys to your car to unlock the doors. Shoving the box in the back, you plopped down into the driver's seat, your head in your hands as you cried. You had nowhere to go—not at this hour of the night. Your sweater clad hands rubbed your runny nose, your hands shakily starting up the car as you glanced back at the house.

For the third time, you're pulling out of the driveway, heading towards the place you always go. Your best friend, Bill. He's always been there for you, ever since you were younger. He'd always beat up the kids that would pick on you, and would threaten any boys that you would go out with. He's never been a fan of Jason, but he would never tell you that. As you pulled up in front of his house, you noticed the lights were all off—and you knew he's sleeping.

The box in the back was forgotten, your hands shakily pounding on his front door. You cradled your arms around yourself, sniffling and wiping at your wet cheeks. A light shone through the window, your head slowly lifting up as the front door opened. Bill mumbled quietly, his eyes droopy with sleep. As soon as his green eyes found yours, swollen and leaking with tears, his strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. "Again?" He whispered, though, you only nodded as warm tears soaked his warm chest.

He helped you inside, shutting the door and helping you take off your shoes. You balanced on the wall, your legs shaking, hands wiping at your cheeks. "I.." You mumbled, leaning her your head back and fighting the tears that threatened to pool from your eyes. "I don't know what I did, Bill." You sobbed, Bill's figure towering over yours as he watched you break down in front of him for the third time.

        "Seems like you never have to do anything for him to be a dick," He replied, his arm around you as he guided you to his living room, helping you sit on his large sofa. He sat down next to you, hands rubbing at his tired eyes before he turned his attention towards you. "I don't know why you keep running back to him."

You bowed her head, wondering why you kept running back to him also. "I.. I don't think I can this time. I can't," you sniffled, hands pawing at your leaking eyes, "I can't keep living like this." Bill leaned onto the arm of the sofa, his long leg outstretched behind you as he pulled you between his legs, arms cradling you as you laid against his chest.

        "You shouldn't have to live like this, darlin'." His voice was quiet, soft. Much different than what you're used to. His slim fingers rubbed up and down your arm, your body slowly relaxing into his warm embrace. As you laid against him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, your eyes grew dry.

Eyes swollen and red, you looked up at him. "I don't deserve you, Bill," You muttered, laying your head back on his bare chest as you breathed in. Bill's fingers played with your hair, twisting it around his long fingers. "I don't deserve anything."

        "You deserve the world, actually," his fingers were under your chin, lifting your head up to meet his. "And that asshole isn't going to give it to you. He's going to keep doing this if you continue to let him." You listened to every word he said, your eyes focused on the way his lips moved when he talked. "You can't keep letting him do this to you."

You nodded in understanding, eyes shifting up to meet his blue eyes. The way the light hit his face, brightened his eyes and lit his face up in such a beautiful way. His structured jaw and soft eyes could draw anyone in, and you slowly felt herself being sucked in every single time you were around him.

The protection he provided you, and the comfort, was enough to have you falling at his feet. Not only was he a sight for sore eyes—but his heart and his personality are the most beautiful things about him. He has so much love to give, and you find it such a shock that some lucky girl hasn't snatched him up. But you also find that a relief—because if he had a girlfriend, you wouldn't be able to be in this position anymore. "What are you thinking about?" He asked, fingertips brushing against the flushed skin of your cheeks.

        "How different everything would be if you had a girlfriend," You admitted, shifting your body so you sat up in front of him. His head fell back with laughter, lips curling into a smile as he looked at you.

        "Nothing would be different, babe. If you need comforting, I'm gonna be the one to give you comfort." Your heart began to pound against your ribcage as you stared at him, eyes locked and tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. There's been a couple of times where you've thought about your feelings for Bill, and how happy he made you. Thoughts of how his plush lips would feel against yours, hands wandering over every inch of your skin.

Unsure if it was the many thoughts flooding your mind, or the way his hands rubbed your knee, you found yourself leaning into him. His nose brushed against your cheek, your lips almost touching. With your eyes closed, you closed the gap between the two of you and held onto his cheeks. Your lips molded together, his hands resting on the fabric on your hips, your body climbing onto his lap as you straddled him. "I..."

He pressed his lips against yours, stopping you from saying a word. "Don't say anything." He whispered against your lips, hands finding their way to your face, fingers brushing over the apples of your cheeks. You pressed your forehead against his, your eyes closed and breathing uneven as you stayed in his embrace. "Don't go back to him," He spoke quietly, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, "stay here with me."

For the first time that night, your lips curled into a smile, your noses brushing together. In that moment, this is where you knew that you belonged. You belong with Bill—the man who's taken care of you and given you the protection you deserve.

The man who's always made you feel like the only girl in the world.