Michael Myers In Every Halloween Movie

Michael myers in every halloween movie

Billy lenz imagine pls! Barb being an absolute jerk to gn reader when they're at the sorority house. Insulting them, putting them down. Readers just trying to have a good ol time because it's the holidays but barb makes it hard. Billy seeing this and getting protective of reader and makes calls directed at barb. I'll leave the rest up to what you want! Love your works!

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [billy lenz]

fandom: black christmas shipping: billy lenz x gn!reader warnings: explicit language [like a lot], barb being a bitch, alluded to panic attacks, murderous desire, literal murder, violence, description of a corpse, reader could be seen as a little ~messed up~ but who am i to judge, sexual references and like one scene thats a bit suspicious

synopsis: Barb had always disliked you - it was something you just grew to deal with because you loved the company of Phil and Jess. But by the holiday season, it all became too much for you to deal with. Though it seems that you had a surprising person to fight in your corner.

"Fucking cunt!”

All of you were crowded around the phone and intently listening to The Moaner and his insults. It was originally Jess who had answered the phone, using her usual calm and warm nature to try and chide the Moaner off - but once Barb had taken the phone and started to insult him, the Moaner went off. 

You sniffed and wiped under your red-rimmed and puffy eyes with your sweater. When Jess had called out that he was on the phone, you had been hiding in the upstairs hallway trying to stop yourself from crying. Barb had made multiple comments toward you, only increasing in intensity the more she drank, and you had reached your limit. Though once you heard her yell out about the Moaner, you ran downstairs and tried your best to hide the building tears.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, piggy cunt!” He roared, and you all looked at each other wide eyed. You’d been around the sorority house for many of the past phone calls from the Moaner, but never had he been so angry - and from the looks of the girls around you, you figured they all agreed. “Making my precious cry? You’re going to die tonight.”

Jess eyed you off as the call cut out, and you stared back at her with furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes. It was very obvious you were the only one there who had cried that night (still puffy eyes only further exposing you) but you still wanted to try and believe that you were not the one being discussed. How would he even know you’d been crying?

After slamming the phone back into the receiver, Barb took a puff of her cigarette and gave you an evil smirk. “Look’s like you’ve got an admirer,” you glared at her and she just grinned back. You hated how much her words could affect you - and you hated the fact that this was not the first time she had made you cry. “A perfect match, really.”

“Fuck off, Barb,” you spat out at her before wiping under your eyes again. Hopefully, the Moaner was just some fucked up student at the university who had seen you cry over Barb’s words in the past - if not, well, you didn’t want to think about that.

When she turned her attention towards Clare, it honestly shocked you how much of an instigator Barb was, you walked out of the foyer and to the living room. The house’s only record of holiday music was playing for the umpteenth time that night, the familiar hum of Eartha Kitt’s ‘Santa Baby’ echoing around the room, and you went to sit down on the couch.

Jess sat down beside you, resting her head on your shoulder, and Phil came in and sat on the arm rest of the couch and wiped under your eyes. “I’m fine,” you mumbled with a very weak attempt at moving Phil’s hands from your face, “promise.”

She reluctantly stopped cupping your cheeks and instead moved rest her head on your other shoulder, leaving you stuck with the two girls using you as their personal pillow. “How did he know?” Jess’ voice was quiet but somehow the words seemed like a wrecking ball through your false sense of security.

Louis Armstrong’s strong voice replaced Eartha Kitt’s as the excruciating lull in speaking grew more and more painful. Phil didn’t say anything about the question, and you sure as fuck weren’t about to answer with your actual fears. “Don’t worry,” you rested your head on top of Jess’ as the lies fell from your mouth, “he probably just saw us fight in front of class last week.”

Billy did not in fact see you fight in front of class the previous week. But learning that that fucking bitch had made you cry on multiple occasions only fuelled that desire for carnage in his gut. 

He had been rather intrigued by you since that first time he heard your enchanting voice through the phone. His precious love had listened to what he said, didn’t yell or berate him like those other piggies, and spoke in that soft tone of voice Billy adored so.

When Billy learnt that you had to suffer daily because of that cunt, it infuriated him. He had already heard some of the insults sent toward you before he arrived at the house, the bitch had been lucky enough at the time to remain faceless, but now Billy had seen it all. 

Billy had heard your voice when he first got there, and so he left the safety of his attic and toward where your intoxicating lilt was. Only he was greeted with you storming upstairs with tears welling in your eyes. The piggy cunt had only laughed as you ran, before she went off to refill her drink, but Billy was quick enough to connect the dots in his mind.

Though Billy went back to the attic as you hid in the hallway to try and muffle your cries, all he wanted to do was reach out and hug you. He nearly did, his shaking hands reaching toward your small, cradled frame on the floor, but Billy knew he had to wait. You would be scared if he did that - and Billy knew he would be patient for you.

So after his phone call earlier where that fucking slut had the audacity to insult him? Billy was seeing red. None of those pigs were protecting you - not like Billy could - and so he knew it was his time to help you like you deserved.

He only saved you from one so far, the quiet one who would judge people from the corners of her eyes instead of overtly saying it. Billy had caught her in her bedroom and waited until she stopped squirming so much before taking the piggy up to the attic. 

Billy decided to wait in that piggy’s room with the little cat before his next act. He could still just hear your voice talking with some of the others downstairs, it made Billy rather giddy to know you were still there - perhaps you knew he was there and it made you want to stay? He hoped that was it.

It was after some time that Billy made another call. He hadn’t been able to hear your voice for awhile (something which made him have a fit - why did you leave him) and Billy just wanted to make sure that those piggy bitches hadn’t hurt you enough to make you leave.

But when the phone was answered and your voice answered with soft, “Hello?” Billy was ready to bounce up and down in excitement. You were still there!

“You’re here,” his voice was a mess, nervous stutters and slurs getting picked up on the microphone, but Billy was still so happy to know you were there! You answered the phone! “Precious answered Billy’s call.”

Billy swore he didn’t mean to start moaning, but it was you! How could he not? More moans and even some groans slipped out from him at his excitement on getting to talk to you - plus you didn’t end the call like those other piggies, you wanted to talk to Billy!

“S-Say it,” he grunted with his eyes closed. Billy could see you, not that sight of you crying while coddling yourself on the floor because of some piggy cunt who was nothing compared to you, but you with a warm smile. A smile directed towards him as you said his name - but he couldn’t hear it. He needed to hear it! “Say it!”

While the image in his head was nice, Billy still just wanted to have you, the real you, in front of him. A you he could feel, smell and taste. “Say what?” Your voice was so quiet, quivering almost, and Billy liked it. Though he also liked it when you were stern and loud, like when you were cursing out one of the piggy’s boyfriends. 

Could Billy be your boyfriend one day soon?

“Billy. Say it. Say it. Say it.” He just needed to hear it. Hear the sound of you whispering his name, yelling it, screaming it, crying it - he just needed you to say the fucking word. “Say it. Say it. Say it!”

And then...

“Billy,” softly spoken, large hints of confusion, slight fear but absolutely no sign of ending the call. There was a pause where neither of you said anything (though Billy was still moaning himself silly) and Billy felt pride swell in his chest. You, his precious thing, were listening to him and following his every word. “That’s your name, right? Billy?”

He could lose himself to every feeling flowing through his body. You had said his name again without prompting. “Yes, yes, yes, say it again. Please say it, say it. Say it!” Billy would do anything to hear you say it, to see you say it, just anything to do with you had Billy on his knees.

“Oh, um, alright,” you seemed taken aback by Billy’s antics. He knew that many people could get unsettled by how Billy spoke and what he did - but Billy also knew that you would never be like those other people.  “Bil- shit!”

Though Billy did like hearing you swear, it was a sort of guilty pleasure he had since he saw you swearing about that piggy’s boyfriend with such venom in your eyes, he was not happy to hear the curse erupt from you with such urgency. Billy wasn’t even sure why you were so urgent, why you were muttering about something that had nothing to with with you saying his name.

It was all until that fucking piggy bitch’s voice came through the phone with a chuckle as he heard the fight for the phone were Billy’s questions answered. “What? Am I interrupting something between you and your pervert boyfriend?” The bitch scoffed. “I always knew you were into the creepy shit, but this, really?”

“Fucking whore!” Billy was so angry - how dare this idiotic pig ruin his phone call with you. Insinuate that something to do with your perfect self was wrong? “I’m gonna come over and and and rip you apart! Y-You won’t see it coming until you’re there, dead. Piggies don’t survive, no no no.”

She scoffed, “What the fuck have you been saying to this creep?” Billy assumed that was directed toward you - but either way her words still made him angry. How dare the cunt think she was worthy of talking to you? “Listen here perv, you can go back on the phone to your love or whatever the fuck you sickos call each other - but leave me alone. I doubt you could scare a fucking fly so don’t even think you got me.”

Billy ended the call. That fucking bitch wouldn’t last another day, he decided, it was about time he was going to rescue you from those piggies who tortured you.

You had ended up passed out on the couch an hour or so later. Everyone had gone to their rooms (you said goodnight to them all and simply sent a middle finger to Barb) for the night and Phil had given you a blanket. Both her and Jess were adamant you were going to stay there the night, heavy snowfall only further cementing that you weren’t about to trudge your way home while drunk. 

But, like most nights when you’d been drinking, your sleep was broken. You’d already woken up twice and fallen back asleep after some time spent thumbing at the page of a random book. Though you did manage to keep getting back to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes watching your every movement.

The third time you woke up, the clock letting you know it had just passed four in the morning, you decided to just have a coffee and stay up the rest of the day. So you sat up from your lying position on the couch and did a big dramatic stretch as though you were in a movie and swung your legs off the couch...

... and hitting a giant body lying on the floor next to you.

“What the fuck!” You screeched and jumped up onto the couch as though you were mimicking the adorable house cat Claude - never let it be said your reflexes weren’t fast. There was a large man lying there on the floor, you heard a somewhat familiar groan as he turned toward you. “What the fuck.”

The man was quick to realise you had actually seen him, and he too sprung into action. He jumped from his lying position on the floor and stood to his full height (even if you were standing you knew he would still tower over you) as he fumbled with his hands and the sweater he was wearing.

You took a glance toward the sweater, and though it was dark you were able to make out scarlet red drops of blood. A full look at him only showed that there was blood all over his face as well - some of it dried while other were more fresh. 

An eerie feeling in the pits of your stomach only cemented the belief that the blood wasn’t his.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” he kept on repeating it as he watching you on the couch. You were sure you looked terrified, or just confused, but either way the man didn’t seem to like it - or maybe he just didn’t like that you saw him. “Don’t be scared of Billy, pl-please, don’t. N-no need to be scared of Billy.”

Billy.

The Moaner, Billy, was right in front of you and shaking himself silly. He seemed terrified of the idea of you being scared of him - a shock to you considering he was the one with blood on him. Did you even want to know whose?

“I’m not scared, Billy,” you eventually said and he seemed to calm down a bit. He was still shaking, bits of drool falling from his mouth, and his eyes continued to jump from around the room to your own pair. “But I need you to tell me something... is that alright?”

Billy’s nodding was frantic, “Yes, yes, yes - anything.”

“Who’s blood is that, Billy?”

The man bent down in front of you and grabbed your hands in his - his very sweaty, shaking hands. But you were too busy staring into his wide eyes to care that much. “Those, those piggy sluts were bad. Bad. Very, very bad. They didn’t treat you nice,” one of his hands went from your hold to cup your cheek, “and that fucking bitch deserves to die.”

“Oh,” you really didn’t know what to say besides that. Perhaps it was shock, perhaps you really did not care - you weren’t sure what. You took a guess that he was referring to Barb, at the very least, you had been one of the many witnesses to his constant threats toward her. “Are they in the house?”

Billy nodded, and you managed to convince him to take you to the body. Once again, you weren’t sure why you wanted to see it, most likely some form of morbid curiosity, but nothing would prepare you for the sight inside of Barb’s bedroom.

There was her body, sitting atop her bed. Her back was pressed against the headboard while her barely clothed chest was slumping forward. Her legs were covered with blankets and such but you could still see the blood pooled on the sheets. The glass unicorn object Barb often prided was shoved through her neck, blood was still pouring from it.

Then, suddenly, Barb’s eyes were blinking open as she gurgled blood from her mouth. How the fuck is she still alive? Part of you had to give it to her - Barb was one determined son of a bitch.

“No, no, no! Fucking whore is meant to be dead!” Billy stormed over to Barb’s damn near dead body and dragged the horn of the glass unicorn from her neck. “Stupid!” He shoved it into Barb’s gut, as she gurgled out more blood and cried a few tears. “Fucking!” Yet another stab. “Pig!”

You ran over to them and placed your hand on Billy’s shoulder. He stopped instantly and turned to look at you with soft eyes. More blood was splattered over his entire body and he seemed to look for any semblance of fear in your eyes. 

But if you were scared you would have ran the second he went over to Barb. Why the fuck weren’t you scared - why didn’t you run?

You didn’t know how exactly you got the unicorn in your hand, but there it was. Warm from Billy’s grip and the coating of blood as well as weighing down heavy in your palm. You looked down at it, the horn almost taunting you, and tested how you could move it in your hand.

And then... you shoved that fucking unicorn right into the bitch’s chest. You ended up covered in the thick blood as it poured from her new wound, but you continued to force it through her. Until only the end of the unicorn was showing.

Barb died while you were doing so, the sight of her wide yet faded eyes was still burning in your mind. You were sure you looked crazy; blood coating your body, jitters in your every movement, and the glare of a killer. Though, some sick part of you was glad that was the last thing that Barb would see.

It’s what she deserved for everything she had done to you.

“Come on, Billy,” you slipped your hand into his and you watched the giant man smile like a mad man as he interlocked your fingers, “you need a bath.”

  authors note

When I was writing angry Billy over the phone, I kept accidentally writing him like he was fucking Ghostface lmfao. If that came across I would like to apologise xxx also the word say now looks wrong to me, like i wrote it so many times in a row i think its just wrong lmao

also this is my formal thank you to all the anon’s who gave me nickname ideas you are amazing and i love you all <3

now i may or may have not changed the order of deaths but shush lets all unanimously ignore that in favour of billy being a protective king

with love, Honey

Steve Harrington aka protective older brother and/or mama bear ↳ requested by anonymous + bonus

me sleeping peacefully at night after i just spent the whole day reading and writing the most disgusting, vile smut about fictional men

michael can adopt me anytime