#Josh Hutcherson burn

[joshfutturman]

'i can fix him, no, really i can.'

i finally finished my cowboy billy drawing and the way i so wanna write a cowboy billy fic guys (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

[starymoondoodles]

i'm totally not a simp 😶 ➸ ➸ ➸

Date: 11/9/23

Traditional: - Pencil / Color Pencil - High lighter

Movie : Burn (2019)

Song: California Love - 2Pac

Actor: Josh Hutcherson

➸ ➸ ➸

DON’T REPOST

DON’T STEAL

You can use my art as profile pictures / icons ONLY with CREDIT!!

[joshhutchersonsgf]

BILLY IS ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF GUY TO SMOKE A CIGARETTE WHILE YOU RIDE HIM.

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader | switch!billy | cursing | praise | slight angst | porn with plot | fluff | unprotected sex | smoking | fingering | riding

your boyfriend, billy, comes home from yet another failed attempt at trying to pay off debt he owes. he never gave you the exact details of the situation, but you always promised you would help him in any way possible.

the sound of the creaky door unlocking was enough to wake you, and you look over at the clock on your bedside table.

“12:06” the clock glowed at you. ‘why could he not just get home at a reasonable hour?’ you thought to yourself, yawning and sitting up on the bed. it was a selfish thought, you acknowledged, but you just missed falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his kisses.

you could hear billy walking into the kitchen, opening the pantry and making himself whatever he could find. you decide to get up and see him, and even though you were slightly annoyed that he woke you, you did miss him while he was gone.

it would be impossible to not notice his disheveled appearance. he looked at you with shame as you studied his demeanor. he had dark purple eye bags under his eyes and his hair was all messed up. he had a habit of running his hands through his hair when he got stressed, and you could tell he had been doing it not stop the whole night.

“not a good night, huh?” you question, pulling yourself up to sit on the countertop.

billy looks at you and sighs, “no.. shit, i don’t know what i’m gonna do,” he confessed. he looks away from your gaze, purposefully avoiding eye contact. his hands are slightly shaking when you look down at them, and the knuckles look slightly bruised.

you frown and look back up at his face, wishing there was some way you could help him. you’re both not financially well enough to pay off some crazy debt, but you try to give him every leftover dollar you have. he’s always too stubborn to take it at first, but eventually does and never stops thanking you.

“fuck, i’m sorry i’ve been neglecting you, baby,” he says, putting his hands on your waist. “don’t know how worried i’ve been about you.” he whispers, finally meeting your gaze again.

“what do you mean?” you question quietly, furrowing your eyebrows.

“don’t worry about it, i promise nothing will ever happen to you.”

you smile at him, ignoring the feeling of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

he leans into you and begins kissing your neck softly. you didn’t realize how long it’s been since he’s paid attention to your body. he’s been coming home late and waking up early, hardly ever seeing you anymore. let alone touching you.

billy’s grip on your waist loosens, and he pulls them down to your thighs and begins running his hands up and down them. you sigh quietly and lean your head back, giving him more access to your neck.

“fuck, i’ve missed this so much.” he whispers against your neck, feeling your pussy through your shorts. you whine loudly, sensitive due to the lack of attention you’ve had these past few weeks.

“please touch me,” you beg, rutting your hips against his hand. he chuckles before kissing your neck a few more times, then coming back up to look at you.

“i’ve barely even touched you, and you already want me so bad?” he smiles at you, and you give him a frown in return. “i’m sorry i haven’t been giving you what you need, baby. gonna make you feel so good tonight.” he promises before moving your shorts and underwear to the side.

you gasp as the cold air hits your pussy, aching with need. billy’s eyes widen when he runs his finger through your folds.

“shit,” billy groans, “you’re soaked.” you whimper in reply when he runs his fingers up and down the bundle of nerves. you move your hips towards his hand again and he smiles softly at your action, then starts to move his thumb in circles around your clit.

“mhmmm..” you moan through closed lips.

“why are you hiding your sounds, hm?” he questions, “you know it’s just us.”

you let your mouth fall open at his words, and a loud moan comes out.

billy leans in to your face, just inches away from your lips. he looks down at your lips then back at your eyes, studying your features. he leans into your touch, kissing you slowly. you groan into his mouth and he takes that his opportunity to put his tongue inside. he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing up your sounds.

he begins to run his middle finger up and down your slit while simultaneously rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb. he pushes his finger into you, slowly stretching you out.

he curls his finger into you, touching that spongy spot inside of you that’s been neglected these past few weeks. you clench around his finger, hoping it will tell him you want more.

“i only put one finger in, and you already want more?” he asks against your lips, breathing heavy.

“yes, please, billy.” you beg, “i can take it.”

he starts kissing you again, pulling his finger in and out at a quickening pace. before long, he let you adjust to his ring finger.

“want you to cum on my cock.” billy into your mouth, palming himself through his jeans.

you were thinking too much about your own pleasure, you haven’t even thought about how desperate he must be.

“please fill me up, billy. i need to feel you so bad.”

billy’s heart almost jumps out of his chest when he hears those words. he removes his hand from your pussy, and before you can protest, he pulls you up off the counter by your waist.

“think you’ll be able to walk, baby?” he chuckles, looking down at your shaking legs.

you roll your eyes at him, and grab his (dry) hand. you pull billy into the bedroom and you’re immediately all over him. you push him back against the bed lightly and crawl over him. he quickly takes off his jean jacket and disregards it to the floor. before you can kiss him again, he holds his fingers up to your lips. you knew exactly what he wanted you to do, and you waste no time doing so.

you take his middle and ring finger into your mouth, cleaning it from all of your slick. you moan on his fingers, really wanting to give him a show.

“fuck.. you don’t know what you do to me,” billy groans, mesmerized by the way you swallow his fingers. his eyes don’t leave your lips as you swirl your tongue around his fingers.

you smile at him, and pull his fingers out of your mouth with a plop.

he puts his hands under your shirt, sending a shiver down your spine. he pulls it off around your head quickly and begins to kiss you again. this kiss isn’t like the one before, this kiss is more desperate. billy is pushing his hips up to meet yours, begging for friction. you push your hips down on his and start rocking back and forth.

billy begins pulling on your nipples, making you arch your back into his touch. he’s starts rolling them in between his pointer finger and thumb and you couldn’t control the whine that fell from your lips. you desperately needed his dick inside of you and you think he got the hint because as soon as you started rocking your hips harder, he began pulling at your shorts and underwear.

“fucking— need to get this shit off of you,” billy moans against your lips, only breaking the kiss to help you pull your shorts off.

suddenly, you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you. he’s still completely clothed while you have nothing on. billy seems to notice your anxious stare, because he then pulls his shirt off quickly. he pulls you back in to kiss him harshly while you help him pull his jeans down to his thighs.

the only thing restricting you from what you wanted most was the pair of boxers he was wearing. you try to pull away, but he brings his head up, following your lips. he was so desperate for your touch, and you needed to help him.

you pull back far enough to where the kiss is broken, and billy looks so needy. his pupils are blown, his hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, and his lips were so puffy and red. his lips formed a slight pout and you stared in awe.

you run your hands down his chest and take in the sight for a moment more, then look down at his neglected dick. there’s a wet patch on his boxers. usually, you would have wanted to drag this out, teasing him for as long as possible. but now, you were so desperate to feel his cock stretch you out.

you pull his underwear down to his thighs, and his dick bounces up, hitting his stomach. billy gasps through gritted teeth at the contact and closes his eyes tightly.

“fuck..” he whispers when you wrap your hand around the tip of his dick. he felt so vulnerable like this, laid out infront of you with his shirt off and cock out.

you start running your hand up and down his length, squeezing tightly. billy was already a mess under you, he always got like this when you gave him a handjob.

you wanted to give him one now (and maybe if you weren’t so impatient you would) but you needed to feel him inside of you. billy opens his eyes to see as you slow your hand down to a complete stop and take your hand off his dick. billy whimpers softly at the loss of contact, but then smiles when you position yourself just above him.

billy blindly reaches over to his bedside table and grabs his box of marlboro cigarettes. you roll your eyes at this, and he looks up at you as he grabs the lighter.

“fuck.. i’m sorry, baby. need it so fucking bad right now.” he says as he lights it. he puts the cigarette between his thumb and pointer finger, taking a deep breath in.

you would never admit to him that seeing him shirtless while smoking is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

billy takes the cigarette away from his mouth with his pointer and middle finger and rests his hands on your hips.

“need to feel you. please let me fill—” before billy can continue his pleas, you slowly sink down on his cock.

it felt so much better than his fingers. you have only taken in the tip of his cock, but it was already stretching you so much better than anything (or anyone) could. billy hisses at the feeling of your pussy swallowing his cock, and brings the cigarette back to his lips. he leaves the cigarette between them and grips onto your hips tightly.

“fuuuuckk..” billy groans loudly, taking a long drag from the cigarette that loosely hangs from his mouth, “yeah—jesus. that’s my good girl.”

you moan at his words, bracing your hands on his chest for stability. when he’s finally all the way inside of you, he gives you a moment to adjust. he starts rubbing soothing shapes on your hips while you take deep breaths.

billy is always so sweet to you during sex. he’s in no rush at all, as desperate as he was earlier. he just wants his pretty girl to feel good.

billy lets you go at your own pace and stares at you in with admiration as you start to rock your hips against his dick.

“just like that, angel. don’t hurt yourself.”

his words went completely unheard as you start to roll your hips faster. billy throws his head back against the pillows and whines. how did he expect you to go slow if he made the prettiest sounds when you went fast?

the question in your mind was left unanswered as you pick yourself up with your knees and slam back down on his cock.

“jesus christ.” billy moans, “you’re killing me here, baby.”

billy blows a cloud of smoke into the air, and it slightly burns your lungs. you frown and wave the cloud away, and he laughs at your reaction. you lift yourself up slightly and begin bouncing on his dick again. his laugh turns into a moan while he watches you ride him.

“shit— i’m sorry, i..,” billy says through whines, “i know you don’t like when i do that.”

you answer him with a moan as you start circling your hips around his dick, his pubic bone perfectly stimulating your clit.

billy bucks his hips up into you and arches his back against the bed. his words come out as incoherent whimpers as he tries to hold himself back. his fingernails leave crescent moon marks on your hips with how hard he’s gripping onto them.

you run your fingers down your body slowly, rolling your eyes back into your head. you bring your fingers down between your legs and move them in fast circles. this seems to almost send billy over edge.

you choke up moans as your legs tremble and you use your left hand to cling onto one of his shoulders for support. billy’s dick continuously abusing that sweet spot inside of you had you both coming undone.

thick tears build at your lash line when billy starts pushing you up and slamming you back down on his cock again. his hips chase yours as he continued to grind into you.

“this pussy was made for me,” billy groans, “only me.”

your boobs are bouncing at the rhythm of both your hips moving, and billy swears he could cum from that sight alone. he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, trying to distract himself from the fact that you’re bouncing on his cock like your life depends on it while your boobs bounce in his face.

you grip his chin between your pointer finger and thumb, forcing him to look at you.

“don’t close your eyes, billy.” you moan, “wanna see your eyes when you cum.”

“fuck..” billy groans, cigarette sitting between his teeth. “i won’t last much longer if— shit.. if i look at you.”

“need you to cum, please.” you beg billy, rocking your hips against his harshly.

“shit, yeah..” billy whines, turning his head to the side and grabbing the cigarette from his lips. he huffs a cloud of smoke into the air, all while making eye contact with you.

seeing billy come undone under you while smoking was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. your lungs were burning from the nicotine and your legs were shaking underneath you. billy looked like he was going to cum at any moment, and you couldn’t hold out much longer either.

“fuck, billy..” you moan, “cum in me. please.” (thank god you were on birth control. billy could barely take care of himself.. let alone two people.)

billy’s dick jerks inside of you at your words, and soon he’s rutting his hips up into you. his thoughts turn into nothing but you as he chases his high, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. your pussy clenches around billy and he ruts up into you one last time before cumming.

billy cums with a loud, high pitched moan that seemed to echo through the room. feeling his cum coat your walls was enough to tip you over the edge and cum around his cock. your hips stutter and you fall forward, using your arms on either side of his head to brace yourself. your head is spinning and nothing comes out of your mouth but moans and whimpers. you continue to ride billy through your orgasm, struggling to hold yourself up.

when you both come down from your high, you continue to slow your hips until a complete stop above billy. billy’s eyes are squeezed shut and his stomach is clenching slightly as he takes deep breaths, trying to catch his breath. you look at the cigarette between his fingertips and pick it up to bring to his lips, watching as he breathes in. he sighs deeply and smiles to himself.

“thank you.. shit,” billy cuts himself off with a groan when he opens his eyes again, seeing your trembling body still on his cock, “thank you so much.”

you aren’t sure why billy thanked you, but you assumed you were getting rid of a lot of his stress. you pull yourself off of his dick and you both whine at the loss. you collapse beside him and let your body go limp against the bed.

billy takes one more drag of his cigarette and puts it out on the ashtray on his bedside table. he turns over to you and pulls you in for an embrace before getting up and going to get a towel. he cleans you up well and lays back in bed with you, and you both fall asleep in each others arms. ♡

[freak-accident419]

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: You and Billy make your endeavor to escape. Then you’re faced with Melinda. But what will even happen after all of this insanity?

Word Count: 3.0k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, guns, attempted suicide(?), smoking, mentions of death

(A/n: thank you for all the support, thank you all so much for reading!!)

-

“You got it yet?” Billy asks.

“Yeah, yeah, hold on, almost there,” you reply hastily.

After a while, you two decided to find different ways to escape. After your conversations and laughter would die down, you’d realize the dire situation you two were in, getting back on track as you figured Melinda could come in any second now and cause more destruction.

You two came up with the idea of releasing your leg first, which was duct taped to the chair leg, because it was probably the easiest restraint to get out of. Your position was complicated because you were laying on the floor on your side, still stuck to the chair. You shimmied your leg, gradually removing its attachment from your pants, rolling the duct tape into a thin ring that you can slide out from the chair leg.

That was the plan, at least. You weren’t successful yet.

Until you began to see the tape begin to roll in on itself, becoming thinner and more flexible around your leg, unsticking from your pants. “Oh shit!” You gasp in awe, continuing to jerk your leg. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“What? Is it working?” Billy asked, trying to look behind him, but only able to see the back legs of your chair.

“Almost, it—” Your eyes widen as you keeping moving your leg, then tried to scoop the ring of duct tape out of the chair leg, stretching it until…

“Fuck! Yes!” You exclaim in delight, slightly panting from how much energy it took. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“You got it out?” He inquired urgently.

Your one leg was entirely free. Sure, it was a small victory, but it was a crucial step in getting out of here alive. “Yeah,” you replied, smiling. “Yeah, I-I did, now what?”

”Okay! Good! Alright. Good job, Y/n,” he says supportively. “Umm… Shit, now what?” He mumbled to himself in frustration.

Your other leg was still duct taped to the chair, but it was against the floor due to your position. There seemed to be no way to do the same thing you had previously done to get your first leg out.

“Um… Fuck…” you muttered.

“Maybe… Maybe we could try to break out of the zip ties. If a lot of force is used, you could potentially break it,” he suggested.

“Wouldn’t that really, like, damage our wrists or something?” You asked anxiously.

“At this point, it doesn’t fucking matter, yeah? As long as we get out of this goddamn chair,” he replied. “We should push our hands out in the opposite direction, one forceful movement by one. At the same time. And just keep repeating it until it hopefully breaks, or something.”

“Okay… Alright…” You agree.

“At the count of three…” he began, “One, two, three—”

You two jolted your wrists in the direction opposite from each other. Nothing happened. At least, not yet.

“Okay,” you breathe. “One, two, three—”

You do the same, quick motion again, using as much force as you could. Nothing yet, but you could almost feel that it was close to breaking.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself. “Alright. One, two, three.”

Another powerful yank, but still nothing.

“Okay, okay, we can do this,” you breathe. “We can do this. One, two, three—”

A snapping noise sounds as the white zip ties break, letting your wrists separate from Billy’s as you two gasp happily in relief.

“Yes! Fuck!”

The entire time, you and Billy were continuing to break out of each restraint. Billy let his single leg loose, and you two attempted to drag yourselves closer to the desk. Finally, you stretched your leg and used your shoe to drag the scissors off the desk, pushing it on the floor to your hands. It was finally in range and you grabbed it, first cutting the tape that withheld your upper arms and torsos, giving you enough reach to cut the other zip tie.

After a few quick moments, once you two felt free of all the restraints, you immediately scampered out from the chair on the floor in opposite directions, picking yourself up until you stood, completely and wholeheartedly free.

You two immediately turned around, looking down at the two chairs on the floor, then finally looking up at each other.

Billy was very attractive.

He was practically the epitome of handsome. Like, he wasn’t the most attractive guy in the entire history of them, but he was strikingly cute. The first thing you noticed was the burn on the side of his face, in which you then remembered he told you that it was Melinda’s doing. He wore a fleece jean jacket and light blue skinny jeans, and a small gold earring. And while you were falling for him as you had conversed, you felt like you were falling even deeper as you saw his soft brown eyes.

There was a bit of silence between you two as you just looked at each other. You had been stuck together for almost an hour, but you had already gained a mutual admiration for each other.

Billy didn’t expect you to be this attractive. Actually, he didn’t really expect anything, and neither did you. But he truly and indefinitely believed that you were beautiful. Probably the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

He broke the silence by clearing his throat, walking over to you. He wasn’t very tall, but that sort of just added to his charm. He took out his hand. “Thought we should’ve had a proper introduction. I’m Billy.” You could feel his mannerisms be a bit rushed because you were still in the same building of a psychopath.

“I’m Y/n,” you shake his hand quickly.

“Nice shirt.”

“Nice jacket.”

Billy turns around, then looks at the lockers with intrigue. He slowly makes his way towards it, looking at each of the small vaults. As you watched this, your eyes trailed downward, seeing a long, dark green bag on the floor by the wall. Your attention was pulled away from it, however, as he brought his hand inside of one locker, seemingly grabbing something from inside it.

You felt your heart race as you saw the revolver in his hands. It was like he was able to sense your fear, because he tucked it into his pants immediately and walked towards you unthreateningly. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he claims. You nodded softly. You trusted him. Even though you only knew each other for such a short period of time, you two had told each other so much about yourselves. It was a weird shared trauma bond, that made you wish you met on different circumstances.

“How are your wrists?” He asks gently.

You present them to him. “They’re okay,” you answered. He took your hands into his, observing the faint bruise along the wrist that you broke out the zip tie with. His fingertips were soft on your skin, the brief contact making your face heat up, almost. You then move your hands under his to see the small indents on his wrists caused by the zip ties, rubbing over it softly with your thumb. You two look up at each other and chuckle softly, looking back down and coyly smiling to yourselves.

“We should—we should go,” you say after a while.

“Right. Yeah,” Billy says, letting go of each other’s hands then cautiously looking at the desolate, white door that would lead into the store. Before you could take another step towards it, it slowly opened by itself.

And Melinda her-fucking-self was behind it.

She had a look of shock on her face, as she didn’t expect to come back to her captives being free. Immediately, Billy took out his gun, pointing it at her, making her involuntary raise her hands up in surrender, placing his other arm in front of you, letting you stay behind him.

There was fear in Melinda’s watery eyes. She let out small sniffles as she looked at the barrel of the gun, then at you and Billy.

“I-I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” she stammered, voice cracking and tears gradually falling down. “You… You can take the money and go, it’s-it’s all there.”

You wondered what was wrong with her. What exactly drove her to do all this stuff. How she never called the cops on Billy and instead tie him up. How she tied you up because you witnessed it.

“This didn’t have to be complicated, Melinda,” Billy says sternly, a look of hatred and disgust towards her.

“I-I know,” she whispered.

“And… and you brought them into this for no reason too! They were fucking innocent, and you just had to bring them into this! I mean, I get that you would tie me up, I robbed you, but Y/n? Innocent.” He asserted. “You made me kill somebody, Melinda. I am not a killer, but you… you made me kill Sheila. You fucking made me kill somebody.”

“No, I- I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please. You can just go. I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry. The money is on the floor. Behind the counter. Just leave me alone, please,” she pleaded, continuing to cry. She then looked at you. “I’m sorry-I’m sorry I tied you up too, I was scared that you’d get the police.”

You sighed heavily and looked at Billy, relying on him for direction. But she continued on, making you look back at her again.

“I—I’m going to burn this whole place down.” She claimed. “I’ve covered the entire store in gasoline, just leave while you still can, p-please.”

“Why the fuck should I believe anything you say?” There was hostility in his voice. “Walk.” He ordered, waving the gun around, gesturing for her to walk back into the store.

Billy walks towards her as she goes backwards, with you following him. The neon blue lights of the store caressed your skin as you passed the door, completely leaving the employees only back room and being met with short aisles, composed of shelves filled with candy and chips.

“The money, it’s back there,” she pointed as you were now all in the center of the store. He looked at her with suspicion, slowly making his way to the front counter. You followed behind him, leaving Melinda with her hands up as Billy seemed to have found it, grabbing a black backpack and swinging it over his shoulders. Then, you two turned around to see Melinda, except…

She looked at you two with bloodshot, sad eyes, and an ignited lighter in her right hand. Shit. You looked down, and it appears she wasn’t lying, because gasoline coated the bottom of your shoes. “Okay, good, you can… you can have the money, just… just leave me now, please,” she begged.

“Wait. Let’s just… We can get you help, okay?” You offered, feeling a bit of sympathy for her. You knew she wasn’t exactly right in the head.

“Y/n, no,” Billy warned, looking at you sternly. “I honestly love how you continue to prove to me how much of a good heart you have, but Melinda? She is fucking crazy.”

“That’s why we should, I don’t know, get the cops, get her to a hospital—“

“Y/n. You don’t know what she’s done. Plus, we cannot get the cops involved. What are we gonna tell them, huh? What, are we gonna mention the fact that I was trying to rob the place? That it was my gun that fucking killed Sheila?” He stammered, which ultimately saddened you. “This woman is beyond redemption, okay?”

“So what? What, are we just going to watch her set herself on fire? Yeah? You’re really going to be okay with that?”

“Y/n, please. I don’t want to argue with you. It’s us or her. Do you see the goddamn lighter in her hand? She’s going to drop it any second and she is not going to wait for us, so we have to go. Okay?” He urged, grabbing onto your shoulder and leading you two to the backdoor, still pointing his gun at Sheila.

“Billy, wait,” you plead. “What if she’s just bluffing?”

“And risk catching on fucking fire, huh? We have no fucking time, let’s go!” He exclaimed, leading you out to the backdoor, your eyes meeting with Melinda before you were abruptly shoved outside.

It was freezing. Every exhale you took was visible in the cold air.

Billy closed the back door, moving the dumpster to block the exit. You two stood outside, a few feet away from the building, waiting for it to be set in flames. But it wasn’t. So either Melinda was truthfully bluffing or changed her mind. But you felt grateful, because you would’ve felt guilty if she hadn’t.

You took out a pack of cigarettes from your pocket, grabbing one from it, placing it between your lips and taking out a lighter from your other pocket. As you first exhale, you watch the back of the building. Nothing going on at all.

You weren’t sure what would happen after this. If Melinda would go to the police. If Billy would get caught and/or pay back his debt with the bikers. And what would you do?

You turn your head to look at Billy.

“May I…?” He trailed off, gesturing to the cigarette in between your fingers.

You chuckle under your breath then handed him it, watching him place it in his mouth and taking a drag. It was kind of silent. And it was still cold.

“Are you gonna go pay off your debt now?” You ask him softly.

You watched the smoke escape his lips as he nods. “Yeah. Then I’ll just… get the hell out of this fucking place…”

There was another moment of silence. An uncomfortable, uncertain silence.

“Will I… Will I ever see you again?” You ask hesitantly as he hands you back your cigarette.

He gives a low chuckle, offering you a gentle smile. “You’d really want to see me again?”

You hummed softly. “I feel like it’d be nice…” You say quietly. “Maybe when I’ll be getting gas again, you’re there to rob the store.”

He scoffed. “Y/n—“

“I’m messing with you,” you let out a small laugh. He smiles at you. You felt comfortable now. And you shouldn’t have been, because it was fucking freezing, but as cliché as it was, he was warming your heart.

He looked into your eyes deeply, which drove you to observe his soft face. You couldn’t exactly describe what his facial expression was or meant at this moment—until he expressed it with his words:

“Come with me, Y/n. Please.”

It was urgency. It was a look of urgency and desperation.

“I’ll pay off the biker assholes and then—then I’ll pick you up and we can leave together. Come on. How does that sound?”

“Billy, I—“ You were shocked. You didn’t want to throw your whole life out in this way. You were very fond of Billy, you could swear it, but this was too much. “I can’t, I… It’s just too… too crazy.”

“I-I understand. Completely. But fuck, I… I don’t want to lose you…”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You felt bad. You didn’t want to lose him either. Goddamnit, why did he have to be a damn fugitive?

“Somebody’s gonna have to work cashier number five for Macy’s, Billy,” you joke softly. You put out the cigarette on the snow and grabbed his hand. It was comfortable in yours, fingers fidgeting with each other, rubbing the skin tenderly. You rubbed your thumb over the gold ring that embraced his index finger, in which the metal was warm against your skin. “If we were in… another circumstance, maybe I would. But… I can’t just throw my life away like this. While you’d be starting anew, I’d be discarding everything I’ve ever known. I can’t sacrifice that for you.”

He nodded, staring at his hand in yours. He wouldn’t have thought you would have agreed anyway. He just had so much hope. Like his goddamn Marlboro, he wanted more of you. “Right… Okay, I understand,” he reckons dejectedly.

“I’m sorry,” you say warmly as you watch his thumb move across the back of your hand. You look back up at him.

“It’s okay,” he replies gently. “I hope I’ll see you again, Y/n.”

“Me too,” you add.

“Goodbye, Y/n. Thanks for… for getting us out of that shit hole. And… being a good person.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “Give yourself some credit, dude. We escaped together. It was a team effort. And also… I think you’re genuinely a good person too. You were just… faced with unlucky predicaments.”

He grins appreciatively, letting out a small chuckle. He looked down at your hands that were in his, then back at you. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Billy,” you felt the warmth of his hands leave yours, making his way back to the front of the gas station to get to his car, leaving you there to stand alone in the cold…

*** A Few Weeks Later ***

If you had to do a rundown of everything that had happened ever since, then it would be simple—you got away with all of it. Melinda must have had permanently discarded all of the camera footage before police could get it. But as seen in the news, she was arrested for accessory to murder, then hospitalized from signs of mental illness. It seemed that she didn’t reveal much and ended up lying, because you never saw Billy’s face or information on any wanted posters.

Now you were at your job, working as a cashier, handing a woman her receipt after she paid for her items. She then left with her bags after chirping an expression of gratitude. Your head remains downward, sort of dispirited and not in the mood today. “Welcome, did you find everything alright?” You enunciate in monotone, yet with a slight endeavored cheerful tone, as you saw the figure of the new customer in your peripheral vision. You grabbed the single item that the customer placed on the counter and scanned it sluggishly.

However, you finally paid attention to your surroundings and realized what the purchase was: a Kentucky Wildcats cap. You let a sharp inhale, as the sports team only reminded you of…

You look up to see the customer standing in front of you. Your eyes widen as your breathing stopped.

You really couldn’t believe your eyes.

There was a smirk on his face as you felt a blissful smile begin to tug on your lips.

“‘Go Wildcats,’ am I right?” Billy recites.

[laurrrelise]

cowboy josh is canon

am i the only one just now finding thus video or what

never wondered if someone was very drunk and or very high less in my life

[r04dk1llx2]

Begging For It *ੈ✩‧₊˚

This came to me suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere, so enjoy it.

Pairing: Clapton Davis x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: You get to peg Clapton Davis. That’s it. That’s the story.

Tags: GN!reader (use of ‘mommy’ is the only gendered term), Dom!reader, Sub!Clapton, pegging, strap-on penetration, anal, nipple clamps, vibrating cock ring, whiny Clapton (as usual), premature ejaculation (he’s touch starved and horny be nice to him), praise, degradation, overstimulation, thigh-highs, very brief choking, average early 2000s teenager room setup, don’t talk about the fact that Ayesha didn’t produce music in that timeframe…

The harsh moonlight from your open window shines along his skin, illuminating the thin sheen of sweat covering his toned body. You were balls deep in Clapton Davis, the schools resident jackass.

“f-fuuuuck—! don’t stop-!” Your room is entirely filled with his moans, even drowning out the sound of the Ayesha Erotica track that he had playing on your speaker. Clapton was never one to be quiet.. being in bed with him was no different.

You thrust slowly, holding his hips as he groans into the fuzzy pink pillow beneath him. He looked entirely fucked out, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead, his necklaces tangled and his shirt pulled up to expose his chest, not to mention the black thigh highs you convinced him to wear for you. You gently pull at his hair, forcing him to look back at you.

He’s already drooling, long eyelashes fluttering as he looks back at you with a dumb grin, the chain connecting the nipple clamps you had put on him earlier jingling each time you push into him.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, pretty boy?” You purr, his hole clenching around you as soon as he hears that nickname. He nods frantically, lips parted slightly as he lets out a sharp whimper.

You pick up the pace, causing him to loose balance as you slam into him. He’s panting, a total mess beneath you as you bring your hand to hold his head down against the bed, your other hand reaching down to pump his painfully hard cock.

He yelps, hips bucking into your fist as soon as you make contact with his length. His thighs tense, his muscles showing under those sheer black thigh highs.

“Ghh—! m-mommy—!” He sobs, babbling incoherently, completely dumbed down by your dick. He whines loudly, eyes rolling back as you slam into his prostate.

It only takes a few more thrusts against his sweet spot for him to moan, his dick twitching hard in your hand before immediately shooting a load out against his stomach, coating your zebra print sheets in the process. He was never one to last long, got himself too excited and worked up.

He cries out, panting hard as you continue to move, only slowing down enough for him to catch his breath. He’s insatiable.

“Already cumming so soon, baby?”

“M’sorry—“ He pants, still rocking his hips back against you. “Please- keep going— need it-“

You nod, slipping your cock out as you turn him onto his back. He looks.. embarrassed, completely flushed, but turned on.

“Good boy… think you can cum again for me? Make your mommy proud?”

He nods pathetically, his hips rolling against the air, desperate for contact again. You grin down at him, reaching down to grab the chain connecting his clamps, tugging at it, watching his expression contort in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Fucking whore. Of course you’d be more than happy to cum again.” You spit, snapping the elastic of his thigh highs against his skin. He lets out a choked sob, tears pricking in his eyes from the overstimulation. “Stay there.”

You briefly get up, rummaging around the bedside drawer before pulling out a bright pink ring. You hold it up, waving it teasingly infront of his face as you climb back ontop of him, kneeling between his thighs.

“You know what this is, don’t you, baby?” You hum, watching his pupils dilate.

“u-uhm… a cock ring..?” Clapton stammers, nervously biting his lip. His cock twitches from the thought of you using it on him alone.

“Mhm.. that’s right. This one vibrates, it’s gonna keep you nice and hard while I fuck you.” You murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh, slowly slipping the cock ring onto his hardening dick. He whimpers, cock twitching at the sensation, a small bead of precum already forming at his slit.

“God, you’re such a slut…” You scoff, grabbing the bottle of lube that had been set aside on the end of the bed, pumping a generous amount on your hand before stroking yourself. Once you’re fully coated and lubed up, you guide his hips up and press back against his ass, feeling it immediately take you in.

He groans once you slide back in, knowing you hadn’t turned on the vibrating function to his cock ring just yet. His gaze meets yours, full of lust and a twinge of anticipation in those big puppy eyes.

“Mommy…?”

“F-fuck- what? you want that turned on already? are you that desperate to cum again?” You grunt, slowly pumping in and out of him, sweat already forming on your brow. He nods, looking a little embarrassed.

You sigh, a small smirk escaping your lips before you press the side button of the ring, feeling it vibrate to life. Clapton whines, hips bucking again as you hold his thighs, thrusting harder. He already looked close.

With how loud he is, you can barely register the music that’s still filling your bedroom, as if you could even think of anything aside from Clapton at this point. He looks so pretty… lips soft and puffy from earlier, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, a deep blush covering his freckled cheeks.

“Fuck me harder- p-please-! feels s’good—“

He’s begging again, how cute. You oblige, ramming deeper and deeper into his ass, the bright pink of the dildo connected to your strap-on sliding in and out of his pretty little hole, how he managed to take this much up the ass? No clue, but you weren’t one to judge.

After a few moments of listening to him babble incoherently, you turn up the vibrations on his cock ring, causing him to sob out in pleasure. His cock looked pathetic, all red and overstimulated, but still rock hard and leaking everywhere. As if he didn’t already leak all over this bed, you’ve got to wash those sheets later..

You reach down to grab his throat, applying just enough pressure to make him see stars as you fuck him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. You feel his legs wrap around your torso, the sensation of his thigh highs rubbing against your sides as he pulls you in closer.

“Cmon, Clapton… cum for me, be a good boy and cum” You pant, leaning in to kiss him, darting your tongue out to wet his painfully chapped lips. He almost instantly complies, parting his lips so you could deepen the kiss, letting your tongues dance as you thrust harder and harder into him.

He whimpers and moans into your mouth, stifling himself as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You hear his voice go up an octave, and his legs begin to tremble, his nails digging into your back as you feel a sudden sensation shoot up against your stomach.

You pull back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you hear him panting heavily under you, his eyes shut a his mouth still slightly open.

“Good boy… Such a good boy..” You whisper, peppering soft kisses along his jaw, slowly moving down to his shoulders. You let the ring continue to vibrate, but pull yourself out slowly, eliciting a high pitched whine from the pretty boy underneath you.

“mmhh- fuck— t-thank you, mommy—“ He breathes out, slowly opening his eyes, a mess of sweat and tears covering his soft skin. You wipe his cheeks, smiling softly down at him.

“mm-hmm.. of course, baby, I love yo—“

Knock. Knock.

“Y/N?? Did Clapton come over? You know we don’t want your friends over this late at night!”

Suddenly, a knock on your bedroom door, accompanied by the voice of.. who you could only assume was your parents, of course it was your parents, you haven’t moved out yet. You stare down at Clapton, his eyes were wide, and frankly, so were yours. You can barely make out the words over the mix of music and the vibrating of Claptons cock ring..

“oh fuck-“

[leelaslittleworld]

Journey in between my legs 🙏

[happy74827]

After Hours

[Billy x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}

WC: 4,392 (whoops)

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}

I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).

『••✎••』

You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.

Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.

The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.

It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.

You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.

But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.

"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"

The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.

You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.

You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.

You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.

You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.

As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.

You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.

You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.

Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.

It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.

You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.

You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.

The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.

You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.

You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.

"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"

There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.

You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?

You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.

She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.

"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"

"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."

She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.

"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."

"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."

She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.

She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.

You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.

You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.

Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.

You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.

You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.

You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.

You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.

A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.

You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.

"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.

You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.

"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"

The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.

You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.

Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.

You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.

"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.

It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.

It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.

He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.

He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.

"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"

He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.

"What?" You asked.

He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.

He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.

“Jesus, what happened to you?"

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.

You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."

"Did that… lady put you in here?”

"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"

He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”

“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."

He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.

"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"

You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."

"And if she finds us, what will she do?"

"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.

You gasped, covering your mouth.

"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.

"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.

"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"

"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.

"Just, hurry up," he urged.

"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.

After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.

"Where did you even-"

"Not the time," he interrupted.

He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.

Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.

"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"

You blinked, and nodded.

"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Done with her?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."

"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."

"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"

"Right," you said, nodding.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.

"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."

"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.

Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."

He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.

"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"

He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Don’t ask stupid questions,"

"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"

"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.

You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.

Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.

The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.

When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.

He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.

Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.

He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.

I guess he was telling the truth.

“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.

She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.

"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"

The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.

He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.

Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."

He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.

She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.

He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.

You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

You did the only thing you could think of.

You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.

The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."

Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.

But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.

She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.

She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.

"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."

You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.

"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."

"Please," she whimpered.

He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.

Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.

He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.

You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.

Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.

"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."

She said nothing, just stared at him.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?

He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.

"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."

"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."

He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.

"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"

“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.

He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."

Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.

So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.

And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.

Your car will remain broken.

So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.

I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨

(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)

[xcherryerim]

Never in my 20 years of life have I seen a man take a cigarette so submissively

[joshfutturman]

ok but billy being like 'when did i ever say that i was a man' like ok ur a non binary bitch with a gun then <3

the bag says trans on it too. ive cracked the code. everyone go home billy is non binary now <3

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Lapses

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: In the wake of death our minds begin to wander. To better times, to little moments. Reality is so fickle in the minds of the weak. But he's coming back. Eventually.

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/no comfort, set mostly during the nine months Reader spent grieving before Billy returned in 'My Ghost,' disassociation, distorted reality, death, references to 'Twin Peaks' (1992).

Previous Works in Series: 'My Ghost' (original) • 'Repentance' (prequel)

Warning: You should at minimum read 'My Ghost' before reading this work in the series first. (For best reading experience, please read both previous works beforehand.)

Notes: :)

-¤°》◇《°¤-

Down comes clumps of wet snow from the grey sky, falling.

                And falling.

                         And falling.

I don't know when I wake up.

The TV has been on for hours. Flashing the same photos.

He smiled at me from across the room.

Don't think. Don't perceive. Don't focus.

"I think you look pretty with your hair like that," I told him. His cheeks are so rosy when he smiles.

Smiled.

Why is he smiling?

Where is that photo even from? Have they contacted me with any new details? Check your email.

"Is the internet working? I can't get this fucking email to go through."

He left on an errand.

"Did the auto-payment go through for the bill?"

He's coming back.

"You didn't tell me that was due, I don't have anything on the account."

He's coming back.

"You don't have anything?"

He's coming back.

"I don't have anything."

What are you supposed to do after a death?

There's no guide. There's no instruction manual. Grieve, move on. That's it. That is all we know. How am I supposed to do the second if the general public disapproves so heavily of the first?

There's a long while I don't even leave my house. I lock the doors, shut the curtains tight and nail them to the walls so he can't leave. Like he's captured in my basement, wilting in the darkness as I try to preserve his voice ringing in my ears like the sirens on the TV I eventually break when I throw the remote at it in a fit of rage and desperation.

"It's a piece of shit anyways," Billy would say when he saw it again. "I always meant to buy us a new one."

First thing I did when I found out was rip open my nightstand drawer. "William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?" I whispered under my breath. "Where the fuck is the gun?in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

I tore the house apart looking for it. He's unwell. Wasn't it just last night he was curled on my bed, so sweet and small as he stared at the wall in front of him?

He didn't feel well. He said his stomach hurts. My stomach hurts. Must have been something he ate, he mentioned a mistake. He wouldn't do this of his own free will, I know him.

He walks through the living room, pulling on a jacket to fight the cold air that seeps through the thin windows.

"Whatcha watching?"

Your report "'Twin Peaks,'" I told him.

"Oh shit, seriously? I haven't seen that since high school," he laugh'sowhodoicallabouttheremains?"

"Apparently they came out with a new season," I said. "Got us a free trial if we wanna watch."

"We gotta start from the beginning. Won't make sense if we don't," he says as he throws himself and one other dead thus far against the couch, almost landing on top of me in his excitement. It makes me scream.

Our first date was a little bit of a mess. I wasn't really expecting to meet someone when I did. But I met him. And he was sweet.

"So he didn't tell you anything about this?"

I've dated. I've seen a few guys. Not to sound easy, it was only a handful. But I'd only dated one other guy seriously. It was high school, lasted all the way through. Didn't end well.

"He was running an errand. He does it all of the time."

Billy picked me up fifteen minutes early. Claimed Google overshot the time estimate to my address, so he left early. Later he admitted it was a lie.

                                   But he's not a liar. Why won't anyone believe me?

"What does he do on the errands?"

"I don't know, get groceries or something. I never asked."

                         I never wanted to know.

Billy hasd this romantic side to him. Oh yes, Mister 'Primps and Primes in Front of The Mirror For an Hour Just To Get Drinks' had a flare for the dramatics. Who would have thought? And he showed up with this grocery store bouquet of lilies and baby's breath mixed with wildflowers from the local park.

"They price the hell out of these things for half the product. Figured I'd give you the proper amount," he said with a wink.

"Did you know he was affiliated with gang activities?"

"No!" Yes. "Of course not!" I helped him pack a bag of coke about a week ago.

Did you know that I love the color blue?

                                                                        No.

Mm hmm. Had it on everything. Even dyed my hair that color in high school.

      You with blue hair? You're full of shit.

No, I'm serious! Hated the bleaching process though. Do you know how bad it looks when you grow out dark hair from neon blue?

                          I imagine It'd look co-

Ld.

                              It's cold.

It's been a week. The police have decided I have nothing to do with this. The town has nothing to do with me.

The house is in shambles. But some things are prestine. Like his ashtray sitting on the kitchen table. I kept the surface clean for him, for when he comes back. A string of photos is on the wall from when we went to the arcade and found a photo booth. Half of them are photos of us just looking at each other. Not kissing. Not smiling. Just looking. He has such gentle eyes, you know? I tried to draw them once. They're really hard. They're just so soft, just the right angle. The skin on his eyes crease so specifically. And if you don't draw them right, it doesn't look like him at all. Told him I was gonna get it perfect eventually.

"I may have to go away for a little bit."

They won't give me anything to bury. They won't let him come home. One time Billy was trapped at a bus station during a snow storm and couldn't come home. He'd been running an errand for a friend. I think I know who that friend is now. Billy could hardly even call on the phone from how bad the storm was. He was so cold. Said he wished I was here. Said how much he misses me. Said there was a rerun of 'Twin Peaks' at the station keeping him company. So I put on the same episode and stared at the TV while I waited for him to regain service and let me know where he was. I told him to give me a call when he could.

I'm at the bottom of his closet. Our closet. I don't know why I'm here.

       When I was a child, I liked small spaces

Yeah?

"This is a hard time. It's only natural that you're grieving," says my mother on the other side of the phone.

A month ago Billy sat across from me, eyes trained on the TV as we smoked our way through season two.

"If I have a psychotic break, would you reenact history for me?" He teased around his joint.

"Why don't you go to church?"

"No one talks to me there. I've tried, momma. They hate me. They keep thinking I was in on it." I helped him pack a bag of coke.

"God won't judge you."

Scientists aren't really sure what happens to your mind when you die.

I've looked it up. Once. Read an article. Well, read is a strong word. More accurately I stared at it on my ancient computer I'd had since college while I disassociated for hours on end trying desperately to concentrate. Maybe it's morbid, but when your soon-to-be husband dies in a fire one is prone to wonder about such a thing.

Recent articles suggest DMT- a psychedelic drug that can occur naturally in plants -can actually be produced by your brain in the final moments of brain activity.

"Do you think there's anything after this?" He'd asked me one time as we layed beneath the stars, sand in our hair from the beach of the lake.

"I think we see what we need so that we'll be content as we drift away."

"Studies of animals undergoing brain death have found that the organ begins to release numerous signaling molecules and creates unusual brainwave patterns to try to resuscitate itself, even as it shuts down external signs of consciousness."

I'm sorry. I can't focus anymore. On anything. I feel like my lungs are being squeezed from bottom to top like a tube of gogurt.

We were hardly paying attention to the show anymore. So smoked out it was hilarious to us, laughing at everything as we focused on nothing except for the feeling of each others skin. My hands on his cheeks, his hands covering mine so soothingly. It was so sweet when he guided me off the floor where I lay. Julee Cruise sang on the old TV. Falling, falling. All I can feel is falling as he guides me into a gentle sway across the old shag carpet lit with the mid-July sunset, holding me like I'll fall far, far away.

"I think I've fallen in love with you," Billy whispered against my ear. His breath is warm.

"Yeah?" I'm too high for this conversation. I didn't even realize how low my tolerance had gotten since the last time I smoked. "You make me feel like I'm in high school again."

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"I could die tomorrow and I'd be happy," Billy confessed in a strained voice, finally letting all of the walls come tumbling down around us to the gentle beat of the song. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

I was so nervous during our first date that I forgot how to eat hummus properly. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? But there was something about him. He wore this white button up shirt, basic jeans that were tight on his thighs. Not that I was looking. Much. His hair was combed neatly, gelled away from his face in a chic manner. Really, he took the whole thing so seriously he almost looked like some youth pastor they would have shuffled into a room with high schoolers to play a guitar and say 'you know, I was troubled once'  before offering his story of repentance. It was so different from how he usually looked. Was he scared?

But anyways, I was so nervous that when they brought us our tray of hummus and bread to share, I took my little triangle slices and barely dipped them so to not look greedy before shoving the whole piece in my mouth one by one. I didn't even remember I was supposed to tear them apart until a week later. I was just trying to avoid double dipping.

"I think that's the first time I fell in love with you," Billy confessed. I giggle so stupidly, so incredibly high as I float on air.

"Because I was stupid?" I ask.

"Because you were sweet," he said.

There's a long moment of silence, the music swelling and making the cheap TV vibrate from the bass it was unequiped to handle.

"Tell me you'll marry me one day," he whispered.

What do you do with a ring that no one wants you to wear? I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" I laughed softly.I'm sorry you went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money you shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. "It's only been a year." I don't even think we're dancing anymore. I think I'm sorry you couldn't come back for me.we're just swaying softly to the music flowing around us in a blind stupor, the humidity so suffocating outside that Billy shoved an electric fan in the living room window to try and blow in the cool air earlier that afternoon.

And I'm sorry for hating you when you showed up unannounced at my door.

“It shuts the door to the outside world and takes care of internal business because the house is on fire,”  says biomedical scientist Charlotte Martial of the University of Liège, who studies near-death experiences.

He looks guilty sitting on the bed, watching me fiddle with the small container in front of me.

"You can't bring much," he tells me. There's sadness in his voice, honest and tired. His clothes smell like lavender.

"It's fine," I said.

He simply stares at me, bags heavy under his eyes. He had this spark of life before he returned to me that evening. I'm so glad he's home. Things weren't the same.

"Your hair looks so pretty like that," I said, stepping closer to cup his face in my hands. The contents of my nightstand drawer stabbing the bare skin of my feet as I walk to him. He blushes, looking away in shame.

"You can't ever come back if you leave with me," he says softly.

"I have nothing to return to. Everything is gone," I insisted. But I can see he's having second thoughts, glancing down the hallway. "You can't leave me again."

"What the fuck is that?" I screamed into the phone.

"Baby, I don't know-"

"There is a manhunt for my fucking fiánce who can hardly kill a fucking spider and all you want to say is you don't fucking know?!"

There's an article staring at me. Sent by my mother just a few minutes prior. Billy had been gone for a couple hours after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon. He wasn't lying.

"I want you to come. But you have to be sure."

His eyes are desperate, staring up at me as I stoke his hair away from his face. His clothes smell like lavender.

They finally sent him home today. Took nine months. First they had to confirm it was his remains. Then I had to decide where I wanted him to go. It's such a hard process trying to get your loved ones back, especially when you were running out of the pills that kept you sane. Kept you wrapped in the thick fog of memories left behind to damn the living in a house that has turned more into a tomb. No sunlight, no visitors. My mother came over to see us once, but the smell was so bad she left soon after. I got a new bottle today. Might as well, after all.

He looks so tired on my bed. Curled in on himself. You could fit him in a box. So small. So tired.

It's so cold.

                  "You know, today would've been our anniversary?"

Zemmar says, because “death is sort of a mystery—we don’t really know what it is.”

I wonder who found me alone in the closet of our room.

                    We were too busy dancing to notice.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist • Article

[sun-spider13]

he’s so beautiful i need him inside me <3

[joshhutchersonsgf]

can u write peeta mellark talking you through..😼

PEETA MELLARK WOULD SOOOO TALK YOU THROUGH IT OMFG

nsfw | mdni | gn!reader | softdom!peeta | porn with little plot | unprotected sex | mention of nipple play | praise | reader spits in peeta’s hand once | pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) | no use of y/n | not proofread!

it has been a slow day at the bakery today. peeta lazily wipes down the wooden counters with a cold cloth, cleaning off any remaining dough from the days earlier work. he’s grateful for the absence of other people in the store, as he often finds himself enjoying the silence.

the bakery bathes in a gentle glow, emanating from the soft light of the lamp in the corner, occasionally flickering.

“i should probably change that..” peeta whispers to himself, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. he feels silly talking to himself, but he notices himself filling the silence that lingers in the air more often than not.

he loves the nights when it’s just him working, no distractions. he can get lost in his thoughts without having to worry about anyone or anything pulling him away from his daydreams.

peeta glances at the wall to read the clock.

“9:47” it reads. only 13 minutes left.

peeta bends down behind the counter and feels around the shelf underneath. his fingertips graze over a plastic container and he gives a sigh of relief. he pulls the plastic that contains a lightbulb from the shelf and frowns. the last one.

peeta opens the container and walks over to the lamp, unscrewing the flickering bulb. he’s careful not to burn himself as his fingers graze over the glass.

the room alludes in a sudden darkness when the light bulb is fully unscrewed. a faint light from outside allows peeta to see enough to toss the old lightbulb into the trash can near the front door.

after replacing the lightbulb, peeta glances outside. hidden in the darkness of the night, he sees a figure standing before the irregular cobblestone path. peeta cocks an eyebrow and puts the plastic container down, straightening his posture. he walks over to the window and looks outside, allowing his eyes to focus on the figure.

the shadow slowly walks along the path until it reaches the door, enough light shining through the window for peeta to see it’s a person.

not just any person, it’s you.

peeta has seen you around before, but never so late at night. hardly anyone ever visits past nine.

he glances at the clock again to make sure he didn’t read it wrong.

“9:50”

peeta looks back to the door quickly to see you open it slowly. the door creaks as you push it open, and you wince at the sound.

peeta greets you at the door with a warm smile.

“pretty late to be out getting bread, huh?” he jokes.

“no kidding,” you scoff, returning peeta’s grin.

peeta leads you over to the glass display of everything the bakery sells, and you’re surprised by all of the options. you didn’t expect a place here to have so much food.

“what’s the best option?” you ask while examining the bread loaf on the top shelf.

“hmm.. that’s a hard choice,” peeta says, acting like he’s deep in thought, “the banana bread has always been a capitol favorite.”

“so now i know what not to get,” you mumble, eyes shifting to the boy who is leaning against the glass.

the boy with the bread, you always remember him by. you glance down at his name tag. you hide a smile as you look at the dorky design on the plastic. it’s not like anyone is going to remember a name here, you think.

“peeta..” you mutter, “fitting.”

peeta laughs. the soft glow from the lamp in the corner accentuates his prettiest features perfectly. you didn’t want to sound cheesy, but you swear you could get lost in his eyes if you look at him any longer.

you look back down to all the bread on display, trying to find something enjoyable, yet affordable.

“i’ll have that one.” you say, pointing a long finger at a loaf of sourdough bread.

“good choice,” peeta replies, going behind the counter and opening the back of the display case. “anything else?”

“that’s all,” you reply.

“okay,” peeta seems to never stop smiling when he talks to you, “that will be—”

“-shit.” you blurt out, hands frantically searching for the money you thought you put in your pocket.

“is everything okay?”

“um.. yeah,” you mutter under your breath, “i swear i thought i had some money—”

“don’t worry about it,” peeta smiles.

“what?” you ask, still desperately searching your pockets for money that isn’t there.

peeta reaches his hands over the counter and grab your frantic ones.

“really,,it’s okay. just take it.” peeta says, tone more serious than before.

“i couldn’t do that,” you whisper, leaning in and allowing your forearms to rest on the counter, hands not leaving peeta’s, “there has to be another way i could repay you.”

peeta’s eyes widen and he looks away from you for a moment, deep in thought, “and what would that be?”

you smile at peeta’s question and lean in closer, only a few inches away from his face.

“it’s almost closing time right?” you ask casually, like talking about the weather.

peeta averts his gaze to the clock on the wall and tries to focus on it, rather than you being so close to him that he could smell you. peeta thinks you smell nice.

peeta looks back to you and without warning, slows the gap between the two of you.

his lips are soft, and he tastes so sweet. you were sure you could get drunk on the taste of his lips just from a peck.

it’s like time stills for a moment, everything completely fading away. the only thing in the world that matters is peeta’s lips on yours.

peeta pulls away from your lips slowly, only for yours to follow. peeta puts a hand on your cheek and pulls away, studying your features.

“i’m sorry..” peeta mumbles, only to quickly be cut off by your hand reaching for his shirt and pulling him forward.

any feeling of his fear of rejection left his body the moment your lips touch his again, and he smiles into the kiss.

you swear kissing peeta could transport you to another world with how gentle his mouth is on yours.

it’s a moment of pure bliss when he opens his mouth and lets his tongue brush against your lips. you gasp softly and he uses that as an opportunity to put his tongue inside.

the kiss deepens as peeta now has both hands on your face, like he’s holding you so you don’t float away. peeta’s thumbs rub soothing circles on your cheeks while your tongues dance together.

in the moment, it feels like your two souls intertwine. kissing peeta feels like an intimate choreography that’s almost impossible to keep up with. you feel like the room is spinning around you, and peeta’s touch is the only thing keeping you grounded.

the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach is almost suffocating as peeta deepens the kiss once more. it’s like the air around you both is charging with an electric energy as he pulls you behind the counter through the swinging doors.

peeta pushes you up against the counter and you gasp, gripping onto his messy white shirt for support. peeta mimics your movements and claws at the soft fabric of your top.

you pull away from peeta just enough for him to pull your shirt off while he latches his lips to your neck. his name becomes a frequent word on your lips as he kisses your sweet spot while his thumbs brush over your nipples softly.

“peeta,” you moan out, suddenly becoming conscious of where you are. your eyes snap open and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

peeta notices your attempt to be quiet and pulls away from your neck, but doesn’t stop playing with your nipples.

“please,” peeta pants, “let me give this to you.”

you look up to meet his dark eyes, seeing his blown-out pupils stare into yours while his dirty-blonde hair flops onto his sweaty brow.

you knew you shouldn’t, that anyone could see you two if they just walk by, but in that moment, you really didn’t care. all you care about right now if the way peeta is looking at you and the way his hands are playing with your nipples.

“fuck..” you mutter under your breath, pulling peeta’s shirt off.

your eyes widen at his physique, and he’s quick to notice your staring.

“you like what you see, sweetheart?” peeta mocks, giving you a toothy grin.

before you could say anything, peeta’s lips met yours in a hot, opened mouthed kiss.

usually, you would hate it if someone made a cocky joke like that, but his voice only turns you on more.

peeta removes one hand from your chest and runs it down your body, stopping when he reaches your pants. he pulls away from your lips once more and looks down at his hand on your waistband, then looks up at you.

“is this okay?” he asks, studying your face for any signs of discomfort.

“fuck yes, peeta.” you moan, bringing your hands to your waistband and pulling them down for him.

peeta groans under his breath at the sight. he kisses you harshly as he begins to pull at the thin fabric of your underwear. you could practically taste how desperate he was, considering how loud he was getting only from kissing you. you swallow up each sound he makes and enjoy every second of it.

peeta pulls your underwear down as far as he can reach and lets it fall to your ankles. you step out of your underwear and disregard it to the small pile of clothes on the floor. you hook your fingers around peeta’s belt loops and pull down quickly, desperate to feel him in your grasp.

you feel so vulnerable and exposed, sweaty bodies pressing against another. his hands grap at the meaty flesh on your hips tightly, desperation only becoming more evident by the second.

the only thing seperating you and peeta from being completely nude against each other is his underwear. peeta pulls away from your lips and lets his mouth trail down your jawline, peppering kisses all along the way, until he reaches the brink of your ear.

“can i feel you, please?” peeta begs with desperation lingering in his voice.

you knew exactly what he meant when he said that. you want it as much as he does.

“god yes, please,” you whimper, rutting your hips against him.

peeta grips the fleshy skin on your hips and pulls you up to sit you on the counter. the cool surface against your warm skin causes you to hiss through gritted teeth, but peeta swallows the sound in a quick peck.

peeta pulls his boxers down enough to where his cock springs out, whimpering when it hits his stomach.

you look down and gasp when you see peeta’s length, standing tall against his lower abdomen.

“how the hell do you expect that to fit?” you blurt out, almost terrified to even try.

“i can make fit.” peeta mutters, bringing his hand to your mouth and hooking his index finger and thumb to your chin gently.

he runs his thumb against your bottom lip and smiles softly. he pulls it away and opens his hand, indicating for you to spit. you cock an eyebrow and spit.

peeta brings his hand down to his cock and starts stroking slowly, not breaking eye contact.

“jesus..” he moans, spreading your spit along his thickness.

you watch in complete shock as he does so. you never expected the boy with the bread to act this way, especially with someone he’s only talked to a few times ever.

when he finishes lubing up his cock as much as he can, he spreads your legs enough to where he can stand comfortably between them. peeta rests one hand on your waist while the other holds his cock in his hand, stroking slowly as he lines it up with your hole.

anxiety dances through you as the tip of his thickness rests against you. the anticipation is killing you, but just as you’re about to say something, he slowly pushes the tip in.

“oh my god,,” you moan out loudly, not noticing how loud you are until it echoes off the walls.

you clap a hand over your mouth and stare at peeta, waiting for him to say something.

peeta just smiles and mutters against your ear, “does it turn you on knowing that someone could just walk by and see us at any moment?”

his hot breath fans across your ear and you shiver, despite the heat in the air. you shake your head aggressively and furrow your eyebrows, hand still over your mouth.

peeta pushes his tip all the way in and your eyes roll back into your head, hand barely muffling your loud whimper.

“it’s okay, honey, let it all out.” peeta whispers, removing his hand from your waist and gently grabbing yours, pulling it away from your mouth.

he wasn't even half way in yet and you already had tears in your eyes from the stretch, knuckles paling because of how hard you are gripping the counter.

peeta buries his face into the crook of your neck and moans loudly. your mouth falls open in a silent cry as your eyes squeeze shut. you make a sound of pain and peeta immediately stops, letting you adjust.

“let’s just stay like this for a minute, yeah?” peeta mumbles against your neck.

you try to steady your breathing as tears swell in your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. peeta’s shaky hand grips your hip tightly as he uses all of his self control to not push himself into you farther. he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, enjoying how nice you smell.

“you can move, peeta.” you whisper, thick tears sitting at the brink of your eyelids.

peeta pushes in about an inch deeper and moans, “you’re so.. jesus.. so tight.”

the way his cock kisses every sweet spot inside of you made your eyes roll back. he takes his time with every inch, giving your body enough time to adjust to him before he does anything else. when he’s about halfway, that’s when you start to get desperate.

“peeta, please,” you whimper, “fill me up. i can take it.”

you feel peeta smile against your neck and he kisses the skin there softly, soothing any thoughts of anxiety in your head.

“are you sure you can handle it, sweetheart?” peeta mocks, sucking a dark circle on the crook of your neck.

“yes, please!” you whine, and without warning, peeta pushes in until he bottoms out.

any words you had immediately fell from your lips and turned into a high pitched moan. peeta pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you with awe. the tears that earlier sat in the brink of your eyelids had fallen, staining your cheeks, peeta uses his thumbs to gently wipe away the tears.

“you poor thing,” he coos, “let me take care of you.”

peeta grabs the outer part of your legs and pulls you closer to him. he holds you closely to him, rubbing soothing circles on your outer thighs.

“you’re so beautiful,” peeta whispers.

you look up at him and blink, salty tears falling from your eyes. the compliment caught you completely off guard. peeta pays no mind to your confusion, instead only smiling at you and leaning down to kiss your forehead.

after a few moments of sitting like this, peeta pulls out about halfway. you whine at the loss, but the whine quickly turns into a moan when he pushes himself back inside.

your body arches into his when the tip bullies it’s way inside of you. peeta, who is so scared of hurting you, took you arching into him as a sign of pleasure. he pulls himself out halfway once more, watching your eyebrows crinkle and your eyes silently beg for more.

peeta’s cock kisses every sweet spot inside of you with a lingering touch that he knows will ruin you for everyone else. peeta’s cock jumps at the thought, him ruining you. peeta imagines you not being able to get off on anyone’s dick but his and has to bite back a moan. the thoughts alone have peeta starting off a slow pace, watching your face for any sort of discomfort.

he felt horrible for thinking like this, but he can’t help it. he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to control himself while his cock is being perfectly squeezed by your hole.

with each shallow thrust, it felt as if you were being split apart, but in the best way possible. breathles moans and cries fall from your agape mouth each time his tip grazes over that sweet spot inside of you. peeta couldn't deny that it was adorable to see your mind crumble just from a couple pumps of his dick.

you wrap your legs around peeta’s back and pull him closer, locking your ankles behind him.

“you feel so good, angel,” peeta moans, “feel so good around me.”

peeta closes the gap between the two of you in a sweet kiss. the small gesture quickly turns into a desperate need to each other as his pace speeds up. you have a hard time keeping up as he puts his tongue inside of your mouth. he whines when his tongue touches yours, enjoying every moment of the kiss.

your hole grips peeta perfectly, swallowing him in. you feel every vein as your tight hole sucks every last drop of precum out of him, his name becoming a frequent word on your lips while he abuses that sweet spot inside of you.

your senses are filled with nothing but peeta as he continues to kiss you like a starved man.

“peetaaaa,” you whimper against his lips.

“you take me so, so well,” peeta praises through soft moans, “such a pretty thing.”

you cry out his name at his words, moaning and begging for peeta to give you more. you practically scream with pleasure and grip his hips with your legs, pulling him further into you with every thrust.

“you want more, yeah?” peeta moans.

“please!” you cry out.

peeta is so scared of hurting his pretty doll, but what is he supposed to do if you keep begging for more?

peeta pushes into you at a harsh pace and pulls out, before immediately thrusting himself back in. you both moan out in unison at the sudden action.

peeta does it again to test your reaction, and you moan louder than before.

“am i, shit.. am i hurting you, angel?” peeta coos.

“n..no,” you whine, “faster, peeta!”

peeta wastes no time speeding up his pace, because who is he to deny you of your pleasure?

it doesn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to form, the coil threatening to snap as the minutes wear by. he could tell that you were getting close from your incoherent mumbling and whining.

“gonna cum for me?” peeta asks.

you aggressively nod your head, not even bothering to try to stammer out a response.

peeta’s hands move to cup the underside of one of your thighs, nails digging into the plush skin as he lifts it so that it sits over his shoulder. the new position allowed him to reach all kinds of new angles that you desperately needed him to touch.

“don’t hold back, please,” peeta begs, “give it to me.”

just his words alone had you coming undone, squeezing around his cock tightly. you allow peeta to completely take over as your orgasm washes over you.

“oh, just like that,” peeta coos.

you cum around him with a loud cry, hips stuttering against the counter. his words become completely inaudible as you drown in your own pleasure, everything in your mind merging together.

the sight of you coming undone was so beautiful to him. peeta lets you enjoy the moment as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. he leans down to press a kiss to your sweaty forehead, grinning at the way your body shudders beneath him.

peeta’s pace slows down a bit, rocking his hips against your own till he finally reaches his high.

“gonna make a mess of you,” peeta moans, “can i do that? yeah? want me to make a mess inside of you, angel?”

you cry out at peeta’s words and the feeling of overstimulation, feeling both pain and pleasure mix inside of you.

without warning, peeta coats your walls with thick cum. he cums with a high pitched moan that seems to echo off the walls. he continues fucking into you harshly, barely able to control himself.

as he slows his pace, peeta whispers incoherent blabbers into the air. you weren’t sure what he was saying, but it still warms your heart, nonetheless.

peeta pulls out of you slowly, whining at the loss. you shudder at how empty you feel, completely fucked out. peeta gives you a few moments to rest before pulling you off the counter.

“peeta,” you whisper, looking down at your shaking legs.

peeta lets out a breathy chuckle and grabs you by your hips, assisting you back on the counter.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart. here, let me help.” peeta picks up your clothes off the ground and places them on the counter. he finds your underwear and pants in the pile and helps you put them on, then helps with your shirt.

“i just cleaned off these counters,” peeta smiles.

[freak-accident419]

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Summary: You go to a gas station and notice something peculiar. Immediately after, you wake up and acknowledge your current situation: in a chair, tied up to a stranger with your backs to each other, with restraints promising no way out. While you two figure out a plan to escape, you bond in the process.

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: fluff (?), gender-neutral reader (no pronouns used), kidnapping, swearing, mentions of death

(A/n: title was taken from Suki Waterhouse’s song because I find it funny how she was in this movie. Also jhutch is very good looking. Inspo from the interrogation scene in Stranger Things 3.)

-

You pulled up into a gas station, filling up your vehicle, and then going inside the store for any extra snacks or cigarettes. You had just finished up your evening shift at work, and in the process of driving home, decided to make a pit stop.

The gas station employee named Melinda, evident by the embroidered name on her uniform, scanned your items as you waited patiently, looking around the store and through the window. Then, your eyes trailed to the large security footage screen, showing the several different views of the property in a grid. However, one square caught your attention as you saw…

Was that a man? Tied up in a chair?

“What the hell?” You say out loud, peering closer at the footage of the struggling man in a secluded room. Were your eyes lying to you, or was this really happening?

You look back at Melinda, and pointed at the security footage with your thumb in hostility and confusion. “Hey, Melinda, what the fuck is thi—”

***

Your head was throbbing and your vision spinning. You slowly began to fully open your eyes, attempting to rub them with your fingers, except…

You realized your hands were restrained. You were restrained.

You were gradually gaining awareness of what had happened, piecing everything together in your head. The last thing you felt before your vision went black was trauma to your head, a short pain before losing consciousness. And now, you were in a room, in which its details matched the exact one you saw through the surveillance cameras with the tied up man.

And it only took you seconds later to finally realize that you were in a chair, restrained to him back-to-back. Your wrists were zip tied behind you to the chair with his, and bright orange duct tape restrained the both of you. And not only that, but your legs were duct taped to the chair legs as well. You could barely move.

“What the fuck…” you muttered to yourself in disbelief. There was no sign of Melinda in the room, however. She must have left you here while she would be preoccupied with working the store.

“Hey.”

His voice surprised you, only because it was a bit unexpected. He sounded tired and frustrated, which made you wonder even more what she had done to him and why, even.

It felt a bit weird and awkward to not be able to see his face if you’d begin to talk with him. This whole situation was weird. Having to be restrained to a man. Well, being restrained in the first place.

“Hey,” you replied softly.

There was an awkward silence. You felt like you should’ve been more afraid because you were practically kidnapped, but really, you were just more confused.

“Okay, what… what the fuck is this?” You asked before he could speak again. “Like, why were you here and tied up in the first place? And why am I here now? What the hell is this? Some kind of prank, or—”

“No, for fuck’s sake, it’s obviously not a fucking prank,” he said, which caught you off guard, because you didn’t expect him to be so hostile and vulgar after first hearing a small ‘hey’ from him. “Turns out, Melinda over there is a fucking psychopath who, first of all, burnt me with fucking coffee, then tied me up in this fucking stupid chair,” he explained with frustration and dismay. Well, at least now you knew what his favorite swear was. “Now, I have no idea why she would tie you up too, but otherwise, it probably was for a stupid reason as well.”

You pondered for a bit, actually trying to think of a legitimate reason why that woman would keep you captive here too, while simultaneously being slightly intimidated by this man due to his excessive swearing. But then again, you thought it was an understandable reaction to being held captive.

“Well… I seriously didn’t do anything at all. I just went up to the counter with my stuff and… and then I saw you on the security camera screen. And I was about to bring it up, but then… Oh…” You put the pieces together and found that Melinda would have held you captive as well because you’ve already witnessed what she had done—tie up and lock the man in a room. She definitely turned off the cameras after her encounter with you, ensuring nobody else would see them.

“Right,” he sighed. You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking of what to say.

“Hey, so… What about you, then? Was there a… specific reason why she stuck you in here, or is she entirely and wholeheartedly insane?” You urge, while wanting to know more of what kind of situation you were in.

“Yes, but… If I tell you, don’t be like… alarmed, or anything, or… I don’t know, hate me, I guess,” he says with a tone of exhaustion and fatigue.

That was definitely a questionable thing for him to say, but you figured that as long as you were both tied up together, for now you were both on the same team. “Alright. Yeah, just… Just help me understand our situation more,” you implore.

He took a short breath, then finally let it out. “Okay, so… I was robbing the place.” Alright, you definitely weren’t expecting that. “And before you say anything, it was for a good reason, okay? It wasn’t personal, I just needed the money to pay off debt from these stupid fucking bikers. But that’s all. I swear.”

It was kind of weird to you, how much you sort of tolerated this—tolerated him.

“Hm. So, you’re telling me… She tied you up here because you were a threat?” You asked, which seemed like a pretty valid reason why—like a survival instinct. But you figured that since you were also tied up as well, there were probably more layers to her as a person.

“Well, yes… and no. I don’t know. She… She wanted to go with me after I’d pay the bikers. Like, get out of here with me. Which was really weird to me, because, like, why the fuck would you want to go with someone who robbed you with a gun, you know?” He said, making you now think more about him and what he had done—how he got himself in this situation in the first place. “Look, she didn’t even call the damn cops. That’s how… weird this shit is. I don’t know what she wants. I guess she feels, like… shit—alone and neglected? She was saying how… how everyone paid more attention to her co-worker instead of her. But now she’s dragged you into this goddamn mess, and all of this just feels so unnecessary. I seriously don’t know what her motives are now.”

You nodded as you heard this. You could agree with that. This gas station employee was definitely unhinged at some extent. You just hoped you would be able to live after all this.

“Hey, so,” you began with slight hesitation, feeling more curious about this man. “What’s your name?”

You could swear you heard a light snicker escape his lips, probably from how unusually compliant and calm you two were to each other. It could’ve been the adrenaline, or something. “I’m Billy,” he answers very smoothly.

“Hm,” you hum shortly as you raise an eyebrow, looking at the same, light blue wall you had been facing ever since you woke up. “Well, I’m Y/n,” you tell him.

“Y/n,” he repeats softly to himself, letting out another chuckle. “That’s a hell of a nice name.”

You scoff from amusement and smile to yourself. “Thanks,” you reply, not really expecting that comment, appreciating it, however. “Looks like we’re gonna be here for a while,” you remark.

“Yup,” he said, followed by an exasperated sigh. “Don’t know when that fucking psycho chick is coming back, but we should use this time to make an escape plan, or something.”

“Right.” You observed your surroundings, seeing just a bunch of random junk, shelves, and a desk, gradually feeling a bit of claustrophobia. At least you were able to infer that the room you two were trapped in was the employee’s only room or office. However, something finally caught your eye, making your heart race.

“Hey, um, Billy?” You say as you try to clear your vision, squinting at the object you think you see.

“Yeah?” He answered.

“I think… I think I see a pair of scissors… over there.” Your vision had completely cleared up as you saw grey scissors sitting on top of a wooden desk.

“Holy shit, really?” You heard surprise and hope in his voice, which sort of lifted you up as well.

“Yeah,” you smile to yourself. “It’s like, on a table in the corner, I could probably find a way to get it in my hands..” You didn’t notice or acknowledged it before, but you finally realized that since your wrists were tied with his, the backs of your hands were touching the whole time. You also noted that you could feel a thin metal against your index finger—he was wearing a ring. However, the slight warmness and softness of his hand strangely brought you mere comfort.

You shook it out of your mindset though, as you focused rather on escaping. “Hey, so,” you began, looking down at your shoes, then up at the scissors. “It’s a pretty good distance away. I’m not sure how we can reach it.”

“Well, um, maybe we can try to, like, scoot at the same time to get closer to it. Like I could probably scoot back while you scoot forward.”

“Oh yeah. Yeah, good idea,” you reply. You look down at your shoes again, in which they were barely touching the ground due to the way they were taped. “Fuck, this is gonna be difficult,” you scowl.

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” Billy reassures. “We can just try to scoot our whole bodies. Like, hop or something, anything.” You listened to him, preparing to obey his plan. “Okay, on the count of three, we scoot towards that desk, alright?” You hum in agreement. “Okay, right. One, two, three…”

With the two of you scooting at the same time, you moved yourself and the chairs about an inch forward. The scissors were still pretty far, but you figured it wouldn’t take too long to continue scooting.

“Okay, good,” he praises, impressed by the progression. “Okay, again. One, two, three…”

You two did the same movement again, which brought you even closer to the desk, but still not close enough. You grinned as you sought the possibility of escaping and leaving after this, to immediately go to the authorities and detain Melinda.

“Yes! We’re-we’re almost there, just a couple more,” you observe with enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay, okay,” the way he spoke made you just know he had a big grin on his lips. “One… two… three…”

“Fuck!” You blurted as you felt a sharp pain after falling onto the floor with him, the chairs losing balance and collapsing ever since you tried to scoot forward once more.

“Goddamnit! Fuck!” He exclaimed in frustration as the two of you were now on the floor on your sides, still very much secured to your chairs. You hear him mumble a few swears, hissing from slight pain, until he heard your reaction to this, face contorting as if he didn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are… Are you fucking laughing?”

Indeed you were. You were sort of cackling on the floor, so very amused by all of this, but you didn’t really know why. But then again, humor was one of your instinctive reactions to life-threatening situations, so it would make sense for your mind to manipulate the dire reality of the circumstance. “I’m sorry,” your laugh transitioned into soft, dispersed giggles as your eyes face the wall once more. “Sorry. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t laugh,” you say as you were still grinning. “I just… cannot believe that I am… tied up to a stranger in a goddamn gas station. At the hands of a… an apparently lonely gas station worker who took things too far? It’s bullshit, man! People are fucking crazy!”

Billy scoffed from impatience. “Y/n, I get that, but this is fucking serious, okay? I know that this seems like there’ll be an easy way out of this, but Melinda is a fucking psycho. Shot and killed her co-worker, burnt my—”

“Wait, what?” You interrupted as you thought you didn’t hear it right. “She killed her co-worker?”

“Yeah, well… Technically, okay? I wasn’t actually going to shoot her, but then Melinda spilled fucking hot coffee on me which made me instinctively pull the goddamn trigger,” he explained, now making you question everything. You don’t know this man, why trust him as well? Was he the bad guy all along? Then it looked like he knew what you were thinking, because he added, “Look, if Melinda wasn’t crazy, then you wouldn’t be fucking tied up to me as well, alright?”

You sighed. That was true. “Right.” It was a bit of alarming news to you, the fact that someone died here tonight at the hands of the man tied up behind you, but also at the hands of the woman who tied you up. You didn’t really want to think about that and your possible demise, so you shifted the subject. “Hey, so… Why a gas station?”

You heard Billy scoff. He seemed to do that a lot, you presume. “Well, I figured there’d be a lot of money here. You know, gas is one of the most expensive fucking things in the world.”

“Well, true, but nobody pays with cash anymore, man. Tell me, how much did you get from the registers?” You chuckle.

“Like… less than a hundred dollars—”

“Pftt. See, y—”

“But I got into the safe. Well, technically Melinda did. There was, like, at least thousands,” he says.

“And you said you needed to pay off, like… bikers?” You asked.

“Yes. And those stupid clown assholes know I’m robbing this place, so they’ll kill me if I don’t have their fucking money.”

“Damn, dude! What exactly did you do to piss them off?” You laughed softly.

“Debt and my anger issues,” he answered. “That’s sort of what got me here in the first place. I could’ve left with the money already, but Sheila kept fucking with me.”

“Sheila?”

“The co-worker,” he clarified. Oh, right.

“Hey, maybe once this is all over, I’ll get you an anger management book in time for Christmas, alright?” You joke sweetly, hearing soft laughter from the both of you.

“Honestly, I definitely need one of those. Like, I swear I’m working on myself, but clearly—”

“Clearly, your actions have shown—” you began to add.

“That I still have a lot to work on, yes,” he chuckled. He seemed to do that a lot, too. And, if you were going to be truly honest with yourself, you thought it was charming—that he was charming.

To think, that you’d be charmed by a gas station robber who just happened to be tied up to you. Right. That didn’t sound right. It was probably some shared trauma thing that made you have these weird feelings. So they had to be fake. Right?

But you were smiling way too much. And he wasn’t even able to see your face, so why would you be smiling—other than the fact that he could be truly captivated by him?

“Y/n?”

You slightly flinched as you were brought back to the present, realizing he had been speaking to you while you were reflecting to yourself.

“Uh-yeah?”

“What was it?” He asked.

“What was what?”

“Were you even listening to me?”

“Spaced out. Sorry,” you briefly answered.

He let out a soft, amused chuckle. Despite the fact that his face had been burned, with the biker gang on their way to kill him, and the way he was tied up by a crazy lady, he sort of enjoyed this with you. You were entertaining and patient with him. It felt refreshing. And he admired that.

“I asked you what brought you to Paradise Pumps tonight,” he repeated for you.

“Oh. Yeah, um…” You thought about how your day went today. “Just finished my evening shift and when I was driving home, I realized the fuel level was pretty low, so I stopped by.”

He hums in response. Then asks, “Evening shift? What’s your work?”

“Retail,” you answer, chuckling to yourself. “I know it’s not as interesting as gas station robber, but—“

“Hey. I don’t normally fucking do this. In fact, like, this was my first time robbing a place. I needed the money that bad. I’m not, like, some criminal,” he says with urge. You could tell he was a bit sensitive about that.

There was a sort of comfortable silence for a while as you thought about it. “Tell me about yourself, then.” You ask gently. “Like, other than your… shit with the bikers and robbing gas stations.”

Billy shrugged as he tried to think of how to answer you. “Umm… I was born and raised in Kentucky,” he began.

“Go Wildcats,” you softly add, smiling to yourself.

He slightly giggled, and there was a smile on Billy’s face as well, but with your circumstances, you couldn’t see. In fact, you never really knew what he looked like, and he didn’t know what you looked like. You tried to remember from seeing the surveillance camera, but it was too quick of a memory to have a clear picture of him in your head.

“And… I don’t know. What do you wanna know?” He questioned.

You hum. “Just convince me you’re not really a bad guy.”

You heard a sigh leave his lips. “I… I told you… I’m… I’m not a bad guy. I’m not some… evil criminal guy and I’m not a killer. I’m just… currently involved in very complicated circumstances.”

You decided to hear him out, dropping it completely. “So, what were you going to do after you paid the bikers then?” You wondered.

“I was just gonna… I don’t know… get the hell out of this place. Like leave far away, probably. Get a fresh start,” he answered, which you responded with sympathy. There was another short, comfortable silence before you interrogate him again.

“You caused this much trouble here? ‘Specially with the bikers?”

“Yeah… I don’t know… I just want a second chance in life,” he admitted softly.

You sensed that he was becoming more and more vulnerable. More truthful. You wish you were able to look him in the eye. But instead, you were back to back, on the floor, tied to a stupid chair.

You didn’t know how to feel towards this man. He was robbing the place, but only because he would’ve been killed if he didn’t have the money, and he had no intention of harming anyone. Maybe there was some type of goodness in him.

“Yeah… I understand that,” you reckon. “I believe that people deserve second chances. Especially people like you.”

“‘People like me,’ what do you mean by that?” You heard a bit of defense in his voice.

“No, I meant… You seem to… You seem really unlucky as of recently… In debt with guys who could kill you, gas station robbery gone wrong and now you’re, like… practically kidnapped alongside a stranger,” you elaborate tenderly.

You could hear a warm chuckle before he says, “Well… being stuck with you isn’t really what I’d consider unlucky.” He was smiling, looking at the white tiles of the floor. “If anything, you’re just keeping any possible insanity at bay. You’re… You’re actually very kind, which is making this… ‘experience’ less shitty than it was intended to be.”

You smile to yourself, not sure if you were feeling a bit flustered as a reaction. You were glad to know he appreciated you. “Well, yeah… I can’t imagine being alone in this situation. I think I would’ve been more disoriented without you,” you add.

He hums in agreement. “Well… we’re not alone. We have each other, and we can figure out a way to get out of this alive,” he says comfortingly. “I’m sorry that if anyone were to be restrained to you, it ended up being a lousy gas station robber, but—”

“No, it’s…” you laugh under your breath. “It’s okay. And… you’re more than that. You even said it yourself. I really hope you get your fresh start after this, Billy.”

You were a comfort to him. You were understanding and patient and kind. You even made him forget he had major anger issues. “Me too…” he says quietly.

Time passed fairly smoothly as you two had continued to laugh and converse, learning more and more about each other. Each smile and laugh you two expressed made each of your hearts flutter in such an unsuspected way. And soon enough, none of you ever brought up or reacted to the fact that, for a while now, your pinky fingers were linked together in one hand.

[this-aint-massachusetts]

Bro CAN NOT keep his tongue in his mouth 😭🙏