Blasphemy || A Bill Skarsgård Imagines Anthology

Shooting Blanks || Bill Skarsgard x Female Reader

Bill Skarsgard x Female Reader
Summary: Bill's regular assistant on the movie set quit and since you are a gofer they decide to reassign you to be his P.A with interesting results.
Tags: Gun Kink, Semi-Dub-Con, Humiliation, Gun Sex, Dirty Talk, Slapping, Consensual but not Safe or Sane, Mild Fear Play, Dom/Sub, Mild Daddy Kink.
Notes: This is not meant to represent Bill Skarsgard or his actual life or any events that have ever taken place anywhere. This is pure fiction that is meant for adults. The acts described within this story take place between adult people and this story is not meant for minors.

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"Hey! You!" Some guy yells in your direction. You turn and realize that he is the production manager on set, one of the biggest head honchos there is. "What are you doing today?"

"Just a gofer I guess...you know. Whatever's needed." You reply. Even though the job was far from glamorous but you knew that in order to live in such a fancy area of California you had to be doing something. You found yourself on the set of a movie because of a connection your cousin hooked you up with. It was just as annoying as he had promised you. You were at the bottom of the food chain and you would do what anyone told you with a smile on your face.

"We got a P.A out, she quit. Something about getting her big break I dunno, so you're going to be with Bill now. You ever do P.A stuff?" He asks. You stare at him, stupidly, because of what he just said. You certainly could fill in as a personal assistant just fine, a big part of your resume reflected that (you just hadn't gotten the position) but to Bill? There was no way in hell he did not mean Bill Skarsgard of all people. That was the only Bill currently on set. "Hello?"

"Yes, sir...sorry I...I'll do just fine." You say.

"Good because he can be a bit cranky if he doesn't get his coffee right about now." He says. You nod and hurry over to the craft services table looking around desperately, realizing you have no idea how Bill takes his coffee or what he may or may not want in it.

"Here," The woman behind the table says, "This is for Bill, I heard him shouting, he's not nearly as quiet as he thinks he is." She picks up a cup and holds it in your direction.

"Thank you," You say, grabbing it from her hand quickly to hurry out of there towards the dressing rooms. You aren't sure which one is going to be his but seeing as how they are all labeled with signs you know it won't be hard to find. His will be one of the larger ones so he can relax between takes and whatever else they are going to have him do that day. Once you get to the right door you knock on it softly. "'Scuse me, Mr. Skarsgard?"

"Come in, it's open." He calls. You feel butterflies in your stomach as you open the door and walk in. The hand holding the coffee cup shaking as you see him sitting on the couch looking at a gun in his hand. You gasp softly. He looks up. "Oh this? It's...well it's real but just a prop."

"Right, sorry." You say and hurry over to him to set his coffee down on the table in front of him.

"You're not Tricia." He says.

"No, Sir." You agree.

"Good, I did not like her. She was less about doing her job and more about fucking any guy who could get her a part in a movie. Seems that it eventually worked." He chuckles and picks up his coffee. He doesn't set the gun down though, you keep eyeing it. There's something about the way he's holding it that makes your body heat up. Your cheeks start to flush.

"I think there's probably a lot of people like that around here, Sir." You say.

"Bill is fine, you know." He said, "Unless you're into that sort of thing." He snorts and takes another sip of his coffee. Your face heats up even more as you contemplate the suggestion that he has possibly just made. Is he joking or is he trying to feel you out?