#leaving the room billy wants to be in so that billy will feel more comfortable

[hgrve]

hopper is trying to be a good dad to billy but it's an adventure

[jamminvroomvroom]

Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼

I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)

I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."

late night talking.

op x fem norris!reader

in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…

hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍

songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit

4.1k words

sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.

that’s what you do, oscar and you.

you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.

you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.

rinse, repeat.

you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.

lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.

and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.

-

“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.

he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.

it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.

“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.

“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.

you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.

“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.

“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.

oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.

“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.

“more careful?”

you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.

“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.

“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”

“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.

you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.

-

“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.

he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.

“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.

“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.

“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.

you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.

“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”

“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.

a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.

it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.

-

somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago

“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.

“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.

“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.

“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.

you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.

“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.

“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.

“agreed.” he breathes.

“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.

“always.”

-

always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.

you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.

you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.

“lando, are you okay?”

will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.

your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.

that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.

and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.

but you stand there alone.

just like always.

-

somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago

“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.

you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.

the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.

“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.

he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.

“brown?” he questions teasingly.

“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.

“why?”

“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.

“you flirting with me?”

“you bet i am.”

you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.

-

the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.

he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.

“you just stood there.” you croak.

“love, i-“

“don’t call me that. please.”

hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.

“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.

you nod feebly.

“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”

“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.

“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“

“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.

“i can fix this, i will.”

“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.

“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.

“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”

“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately

“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.

you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.

“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”

“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.

“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”

“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.

oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.

“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.

the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.

“i love you, osc.” you whisper.

he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.

“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.

“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.

he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.

“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.

“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.

he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.

“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.

“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.

your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.

“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.

you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.

“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.

it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.

“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.

oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.

“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.

-

“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”

you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.

“what?”

“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.

“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.

“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.

“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“

“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.

“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”

-

“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.

“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.

“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”

“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.

“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.

“promise, i promise, i love you.”

you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.

“i know.”

“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.

“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.

he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.

“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.

“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.

“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.

his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.

“there’s something we gotta do.”

-

you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.

still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.

ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.

“oscar, what-“

“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.

oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.

your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.

“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.

“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.

lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.

but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.

“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.

“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.

“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.

“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.

“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.

“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.

all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.

“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”

jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.

“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.

“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.

“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.

“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.

you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.

-

you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.

you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.

when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.

you and oscar, you’re built to last.

-

“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.

it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.

the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.

“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.

“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.

“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.

yeah. duh. come on, man.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.

lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.

you’re gonna be okay.

-

hehe

-

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[julietsbody]

lace garters

words : 3,903

tags : 18+!!! mdni! escorts , sex work , reader ! sex worker , vaginal sex , finger fucking , finger sucking , porn with feelings , brothels , oral sex , save a horse ride a whattt

p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!! ( divider by siren4u & gif by drewstarkrs )

billy was a virgin, surprisingly, he didn’t have time for a girlfriend, and the quick fucks from the escorts never enticed him much. many offered, when he would stop quick at towns for a simple beer or to take care of things— he would typically get stopped by the escorts dressed in their gorgeous silks, tight corsets, and sleeves that fall off their shoulders so easily it has your fingers itching with desire to fix it. it would make even the most sane man turn mad, and somehow billy never allowed himself to fall for it. 

not until now, an escort stops him before he walks in a bar, “how old are you, dear?” 

“19, ‘bout to turn 20,” his voice is smooth and sweet, southern drawl sweeping out with ease. 

the girl hums out, tipping out of the way to allow his eyes to another girl standing far behind her, you, “you’re too young for me, dear, you should talk to her. she can show you a good time.”

typically billy would say no, offer a few coins for their efforts and simply walk into the bar like nobody had offered. but something was different when his eyes fell on you, you weren’t like the other escorts, quick to talk to the men and get some money for the events that take within the confines of the motel walls. you were rather looking off in the distance, your position more reserved rather than comfortable. it had him wanting to know more. 

to be fair, billy was bored these days, all he did was travel and go from town to town, never leaving a mark on those behind. other than his wanted posters, which by the way, had an awful drawing on it. how the hell was he ever supposed to get a girlfriend with drawings like that made about him? each step is slow, calculated, as he moves over to you. he notices that mid way, your attention seems forced away from him. 

are you afraid of him? he tips his head in your peripheral, easily looming over you, “darling.” 

your eyes snap to him almost immediately, widening as if you didn’t think it would truly be him, yet you mumble out a, “honey.” 

“lady over there told me to talk to you,” his head tips up, blue eyes piercing into you, even through the deepest of the night. 

“i don’t want trouble,” you finally turn to him, the smell of musk and gunsmoke filling your nose as he bites through the toothpick in his mouth, “i hear you’re wanted.” 

“wanted, but not trouble,” he corrects, smirk tugging at his right lip, “you don’t gotta tell anyone.” 

“wasn’t plannin’ on it,” your voice is so sweet, it nearly has him doubling over. you’re teasing him, clearly, but billy has never backed down to a challenge once in his life, he can bet on that. 

his eyebrow twitches upright slightly, “how much for thirty minutes, beautiful?” 

“you can satisfy me in thirty minutes?” you tease, smile widening at your own joke. 

his head cocks to the side, and he can’t help the way he licks his lips, cockiness coursing through his veins, “i probably could in ten.” 

you can’t help the way your flesh feels like rubber over molten, cheeks flaring to a new maroon that you hadn’t expected. your eyes dare to match his, the lust unsheathed in the teal of his eyes, “thirty will be just a few coins.” 

his hand moves to your jaw, tipping your head up further to look at him with ease, now you have no choice of looking away, “you don’t think i can in ten?” 

“i doubt it,” your skin is hot underneath his touch, despite your bold demeanor. 

“we’ll see.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the motel carried the same smell as it always did, the mix of mustiness, smoke from cigars, and whiskey. billy’s gut churned as you led him to the room that you always rented, surely, he was cocky at first— then he began to worry if he would even be good enough. he was a virgin, after all, and he’s sure you’d been with mostly experienced men. he doesn’t say anything once the door opens, seemingly every worry dissipates as you look back at him with a different look, your lashes flutter over your eyes with ease, the look is more seductive, siren like. 

if you were a siren, consider him the sailors in those tales, lost in the tides and addicted to the song that oozed out your vocals.

he allows you to guide him to the bed, sitting him down on the thin, firm mattress with your hands lingering on his shoulders, “what would you like me to do?” 

“i’d like for you,” he trails off, eyes tracing down your body, “to get on your knees.”

your hands leave his shoulders as you ever so slowly kneel down, every movement is well thought out, calculated, your body flowing in the most seductive ways. despite your lowered body, your eyes still remained up at him, the sudden doe look in your eyes making his legs spread ever so slightly. his hand is gentle when it touches your cheek again, pinky lining underneath your jawline as his thumb threatens against your lips. 

it’s dangerous, the way you look at him, like your gun is being drawn to him with your finger teasing the trigger. 

“and?” you add, his thumb teasing your now open lips. he tried not to flinch when your mouth encased his thumb, the warmth wetness of your mouth enveloping the skin. he finds himself unable to speak, unable to wonder whatever he wants— he wants to be stuck in this moment forever, it was greater than any other treasure he had come across. you were so good at your job, it made him want to know the lengths of your skills. 

“suck me off,” he finally speaks, gentle to remove his thumb from your mouth. 

it was a statement that you were used to, the firm tone, the expectation to get to it immediately— yet you are somehow surprised when it comes from him, it’s less firm, not like a demand but rather an offer, and there wasn’t a feeling of being rushed. for a man who seemingly had no time for women, he surely had a way to talk to them, to be gentler with them, unlike the other men. it was always cowboys who had the better ways of treating women, respectful with every word, or touch. his eyes are heavy on you, the curtains of your eyelashes blinking up to him, your lips tinted a sweet rouge due to a patted on lipstick, and he finds himself pushing his thumb across your lips, smudging the burgundy ever so slightly. 

your hands smooth over the fabric of his pants, fingertips teasing the leather of his belt which accompanied his gun holster as you palmed him through his slacks. the touch of the leather was rich, sturdy and every loop was clean cut, rather than loose and falling apart like many belts you had undone before. you hear him groan as your hand gently pushes against his clothed cock, his back stiffening ever so slightly as a chill runs up it. 

he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly as you undo his belt, your fingertips threateningly close to his gun holster as you pull the leather from the metal to loosen it. a chuckle vibrates from his chest, voice lower than usual, “careful, princess.” 

he lifts his hips as you tug down his pants, boxers following soon after to slip down to his ankles with ease. a hiss escapes him as soon as his hard dick is released to the cold air, with the opposing blow of your warm air on his tip. he was already so hard, as if he had been aching for a day like this. his hand moves to wrap around his base, hips scooting closer ever so slightly. 

“open,” his voice is husky, yet velvety, like the thorn of a rose to the petals. 

you’re quick to allow your jaw to fall slack, tongue smoothing out past the burgundy that coats your lips, as if you expected his next command. he taps his tip against your tongue, biting back the groan that thunders inside his every limb at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle. he allows you to take the lead, your tongue following the underside of his dick, memorizing each vein. when you reach his tip, you press a few sloppy kisses to it that has his breathing roughen, allowing you to open your mouth once more and take his length inside. 

he sucks in a deep breath, a hoarse groan escaping past his lips when he exhales, allowing his teeth clench on the thin wooden toothpick that still remained in his mouth. his head tips back when you hollow your cheeks only mere seconds into sucking him off, his hat slipping off his head and falling onto the plush of the bedsheets. 

his breath becomes ragged with the more you bob your head, allowing the tip to reach the back of your mouth, to the throat. his free hand moves to pass through your hairline, gripping at the beginning of your hair, even through your updo, loosening the tightening of the strands. the muscle in his arms flex underneath his short-sleeved button up, veins popping out every time you reach the base. 

“good girl,” he breathes out, the whimper that vibrates around his cock making his release come quicker than expected, hand bunching up your hair as he has to move you back, off his dick to stop his orgasm. he heaves, noticing the way strips of saliva connect your mouth to his dick. he moves his hand from your hair down to your lips, watching the way your mouth instinctively opens then closes around his fingers, sucking them in with pure ease. 

he allows you to wet them with your saliva until he pulls them out and mumbles a soft, “come.” 

he helps you up onto his lap, the metal of his gun is a cooling sensation on his heated skin as he moves back, reaching under to toss his gun elsewhere. he had his guard down now, despite the large bounties on his head, he was too focused on you, and giving you the pleasure that you deserved. as you straddle him, his fingers dared to touch the bottom of your dress, threatening to raise, “may i?” 

your eyes are tantalizing when they meet his, like the threatens of the deepest lust lie within them, and billy is willing to dive in, “you may.” 

his hair is messy now, like he never took off that damn hat, and when he did— he didn’t bother to fix the hair underneath.

every movement is careful, meant to be more meaningful than a quick fuck, he raises your skirt until his eyes catch on to a white lace garter that’s propped around your upper thigh. so sweet, the purposeful placement of it all, it’s like a prize for whoever gets to raise your skirt. as you sit on his lap, your arms rest on his shoulders, a hand threatening the skin on the back of his neck as his hands move back around your waist, through the silk of the corset to the strings that hold it together on the back. his eyes are stuck onto you as his fingers begin to tug at the tie of the strings, they were in a harsh knot, but billy always knew his way around things. 

kissing clients was typically a line many of the women wouldn’t dare to cross, sometimes not even you, but the way his eyes kept tipping down to your lips had you threateningly close to the now faded line. as the laces of your corset loosen, your head tips down to where your lips barely brush him, you can smell the mint already before even getting a chance. your lips move to close around the toothpick that he kept in his mouth, moving to spit it out and he was quick to chase your lips. as soon as you had spit out the toothpick, his lips finally pressed against yours, allowing your freshly manicured hands to curl through his brunette hair. 

the fresh smell of your rose and jasmine was quick to his nose as he inhaled you up close, tongue teasing against your lower lip ever so carefully. there was a certain thirst that billy found himself feeling as he moves to spread your mouth open with his own, allowing your tongues to both clash, the mix of spit and remnants of mint and a cigarette becoming prominent to the taste. he wanted to drink every word from your lips, to suck in your siren song like his life depended on it. 

when your hips bucked up against him, needy to feel a form of friction, it had encouraged him to finally free you from the confines of your corset. your lips part when he breaks the kiss, his lips trailing kisses down to your jaw, throughout until he meets your neck, the softness of his kisses making it feel as though doves were flying through the confines of your body. when his lips begin to move to suck on the delicate skin, you hiss, “dear, dear, you can’t leave marks.” 

“your rules or brothel rules?” he murmurs against your skin, moving to toss away your corset onto the floor. 

“brothel rules,” you hush out, and you feel his lips curl onto your neck. 

“then ‘m gonna leave as many marks as i want,” he falls back into your skin, lips taking in the skin between his teeth as he moved to mark you as his own. the desire to have a prostitute as your own was a dangerous game, but billy had been a part of many dangerous games before, and now he was pulling all his money in with the unluckiest of cards— yet he still finds himself with the pride of feeling he will win. his lips pause at one of the pulse points on your neck, noticing how your heat beat quickens, and flutters, was this typical? 

he wasn’t sure, but he finds himself praying it’s a good thing. he chuckles as your hands are desperate to unbutton his shirt, pushing each wooden button through the loops with ease, you had done this a million times before, this is the only time your heart is thumping in your chest when you do, though. he moves his hand down to take a hold of one of your wrists, “easy, girl, easy.” 

“you said ten minutes,” you remind him, smile dripping on your lips. 

“mm, i want longer than that,” he helps you unbutton the last few before taking off his shirt, noticing how your eyes trail down his figure. 

“just sayin’ that because you can’t make me cum,” you break into a soft laugh against him, and he can’t help the way a small smile curves his lips as he takes off the dress that you were wearing. your body is alike to the statues you could only dream of seeing in those beautiful stories about gods and women who ruled. women who were worshipped, even as billy knew you for mere minutes, he found himself wanting to kneel at your altar, to worship the ground you walk on. to make you cum would mean more than he imagined at first, he wanted to be that man, to pleasure you in ways others haven’t. 

his fingers slip underneath the hem of your panties, immediately exposed to the wetness underneath as it coats his fingers, “can’t make you cum yet you’re so wet for me, hm?” 

you bite your lip, allowing your hips to sway against his fingers as pleasure envelopes your every thought almost immediately. though billy wasn’t quite sure about what exactly to do, he had heard the other cowboys speak of this, and he hoped it delivered as much pleasure as they said when he dips a finger inside of you. you’re loose around him, wet, yet sucking him in so easily. he’s quick to add another, finding his rhythm almost immediately and getting cocky with it. he dares to let his thumb tease the edges of your clit, as if he didn’t know it was there and he was merely looking for somewhere to place it. 

he notices the way your nails dig in to his scalp, biting your tongue so hard that crimson may bleed from it with ease. 

billy had kissed many women, been on the brink of sex, and yet none have reacted the ways in which you do. they were quick to show how they react, every emotion not blanketed behind a curtain of embarrassment but now, despite it being your job to over exaggerate the pleasure, you found yourself shy to make noise. he moves to allow another finger to push inside of you, the pink velvet of your insides encasing his fingers with ease. he hears you gasp when his fingers threaten to curl, and he allows himself another smile. his thumb moves to your clit again, and that’s when your grip becomes lethal, biting your lip no longer becoming a guard for your moans. 

“please,” you mumble out, whimpering. 

“please what, princess?” you’re putty in his hands, and he’s kneading you with ease. 

“i.. i need you,” you moan out, to be saying this to a wanted man, one who has killed, and committed theft, as well as escaped from prison— it was something you swore to never do. yet you were having sex with him and his touch felt so gentle it was as if it never happened, how could a man so dangerous be so kind? you feel a vein pulse from his neck as he finally pulls his fingers out, his eyes following yours as he moves his hand up to his mouth, allowing his fingers to move in between his lips and the taste of you to savor his tastebuds.

your pupils dilate at the sight of him tasting you, skin warming before you can even realize that you’re moving to take his fingers out, replacing them with your tongue as your mouth presses against his again. his hand falls on your waist, other hand guiding his dick to your cunt as he deepens the kiss to feel you moan against his mouth. your tongues fight for dominance, each movement a hunger of it’s own but yours falls submissive as soon as his dick slides into you with ease. your velvet is tighter around him than he expected, and he feels the vibrations of your whines against his tongue, mumbling a small, “you’re so big—“ against his lips. 

once you reach his base, you pull away from his lips, a mere string of saliva connecting you both like a lifeline. 

now you have the lead to take, your lips connecting with his neck to leave marks on him, you wonder how the other cowboys will react as your hips start swaying on his dick, riding him with ease. will they laugh at him for all the prominent hickeys? there’s no way he could hide it, you’ve heard billy had girlfriends all around in many different towns and parts of the state, what if he went back to them and they saw all the marks? it would trace back to you, you’re sure of it, but something about that fills you with a sense of pride rather than fear. you’ve always adored the outlaws, even though you were raised to be a good christian woman, a good girl. the outlaws were always the sweet talkers, as you were told from the other girls at the brothel. you were told stories about how well they treated the women, their touch being better than most the regulars, their words so dirty you’d only dream of being told it until you had finally heard it. 

now you found yourself in love with the idea of trouble, as you wrap yourself in the silks of his touch and the pleasure he gave you. his head tilts back to allow you more access to the free canvas of his neck, his hand raises, then immediately smacks onto the flesh of your ass. the slap tore a cry from your throat, into the skin that coats his neck, and a plain redness forms around the mark of his hand, branding you. 

somehow, this was more intimate than your previous affairs, even despite the roughness of the sex. it felt like a wild play of ballet, an opera you would only dream of seeing, the gracefulness of each movement and the sweetness that drips like honey off each sound, even the sounds of skin slapping as you ride him. you taste the bitterness of his cologne as you reach the sides of his neck, sucking the pale skin with a need to create marks that last. he’s fascinated by your every movement, if this truly was a ballet, he would find himself in the crowd, watching the dancer move with such purity even during such a lewd act. 

you felt yourself curl as your orgasm builds again, and it seems he is too in the way his hips begin to rock. every movement feels like being coated in molasses, trying to swim through it, the orgasms scorching through your inner thighs to your core until it wracks your body, hitting you harder than it had any other time. you don’t know what it was about him, but you were quick to flutter around him, and that had him pulling out, stroking himself for mere seconds until white stripes fall in messy streaks across your skin. 

he pulls you closer when your lips move so your head tilts onto his shoulder, both of your guys’ chests heaving as if you had just been working out, as if you were running towards danger and felt the warmth of it’s embrace reel you in. it was billy’s arms, his eyes closing for a mere second before they open again, “thought i couldn’t make you cum.” 

you hate the way you smile so easily at anything he says, the way you melt into his touch, the way even though you were merely a one night stand it felt like you wanted this to be an eternity, you wanted him to be a regular. 

“mm, i faked it,” you say with a smile, so clearly a lie. 

you move so he slips out of you, your cunt clamping around nothing as it missed the feeling of him inside of you. soon, you reassure yourself as you stand, convinced he will be returning. poor, poor girl, you were just another victim of the sweet talkers with pretty faces. it worsens as your legs become jelly, and he’s quick to stand, hands fastening to your waist and holding it to keep you balanced. his chuckle turns to a laugh, a deep, hearty laugh, “you sure, doll?” 

you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, somehow your lipstick remained and it kept the mark staining his cheek as you left your kiss there. then you moved, taking your clothes and putting them on, “goodnight, billy.” 

[reidmarieprentiss]

Home with Migraines

Summary: Spencer snaps at Y/N while having one of his migraines.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt//comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: yelling, childhood trauma, crying, being afraid of partner

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: i'm an angsty girl what's new :)) can be read alone but it is a blurb from Finding Home Again !!

main masterlist

Y/N had been chatting animatedly about her day as she walked into the apartment, her keys and bag clattering onto the table. Spencer was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, trying to focus on anything but the throbbing pain in his skull. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt her, hadn’t wanted to dampen her enthusiasm, but the relentless pounding in his head was making it impossible to concentrate on anything she was saying.

“I stopped by that new café on the corner,” Y/N was saying as she hung up her coat. “You know, the one we’ve been meaning to check out? Anyway, I got us those croissants you like, and—”

She paused for a moment to head to the restroom, and Spencer used the brief silence to take a deep breath, trying to steady himself. But when she came back out, her voice filling the room again, it was like nails on a chalkboard to his hypersensitive senses.

“—and then I called Billie, and they were telling me about this new project they’re working on, and—”

Y/N continued talking as she walked back into the room, her voice cheerful and full of energy. “—and they were saying it’s going to be this huge collaboration with all these amazing artists, and I thought, ‘Wow, this sounds right up your alley, Spence!’ Oh, and I ran into Mrs. Thompson from downstairs—she asked about you, by the way. I told her you’ve been super busy with work, but maybe we could bring her some of those croissants later, she always seems so lonely…”

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sound, but it only seemed to grow louder, more insistent, with every word she spoke. His head felt like it was going to split open, the pressure behind his eyes unbearable.

“—and then I thought, maybe this weekend we could check out that new bookstore downtown? I heard they have a whole section on rare first editions, and I know how much you love—”

“God!” Spencer suddenly exploded, his voice sharp and filled with a frustration that had been building up all day. “Can you just shut up, please!”

The words echoed in the room, stark and heavy. Y/N immediately stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening in shock. She hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t noticed how tense Spencer had been sitting there.

“...what?” she asked, her voice small, her lip trembling as she tried to process his outburst.

“Stop. Talking. Please. It’s like nails on a chalkboard,” Spencer bit out, the pain in his head making his tone harsher than he intended.

Y/N’s heart sank at his words, and she felt a sting of tears welling up in her eyes. “Oh—okay,” she managed to say, her voice breaking slightly. She turned quickly, her breath hitching as she tried to hold back the tears, and hurried back to their bedroom.

Once inside, she shut the door behind her, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing in the silence. She pressed her back against the door, feeling the weight of the situation crashing down on her. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer, and she threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in the pillows as the tears came. 

She cried quietly, her shoulders shaking with each sob as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Y/N didn’t know what she did wrong; Spencer usually let her yap about her day for as long as she liked when she came home. He had never once snapped at her, for any reason at all. The unexpected harshness of his words replayed in her mind, each time cutting deeper, leaving her feeling confused and hurt. What had she done to deserve that? 

She tried to rationalize it, telling herself that maybe he’d had a particularly rough day at work, or maybe something else was bothering him. But no matter how she tried to spin it, the hurt wouldn’t go away. All she had wanted to do was share her day with him, and now she was left feeling as though she had done something wrong, something to push him away.

Spencer, on the other hand, was just glad for some peace and quiet, unaware of the storm he had unknowingly unleashed. The silence in the apartment was a welcome relief to his pounding head. He leaned back on the couch, finally able to close his eyes without the constant barrage of noise that had been aggravating his migraine. In his haze of pain, he didn’t realize that the quiet had come at the expense of his fiancée’s feelings.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her, hadn’t even considered how his words might have affected her. All he knew was that the pain in his head was blinding, and he needed silence. As he sat there, trying to will the migraine away, it never occurred to him that Y/N was in the next room, crying her heart out over the way he had spoken to her.

—

Spencer eventually fell asleep on the couch, the tension in his body slowly unwinding as the pain in his head dulled with the quiet. Y/N noticed the apartment had grown silent, and after a while, she carefully opened the bedroom door, hesitating as she listened for any sounds. Hearing none, she snuck out of the room, scared to upset him again by making too much noise. 

When she saw that he was asleep on the couch, she let out a small breath of relief. Y/N tiptoed into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and a quick snack to substitute for dinner. She still felt too upset to eat a full meal, her appetite dulled by the earlier confrontation.

As she closed the fridge quietly, trying not to make any noise, Spencer stirred on the couch, waking up groggily. “Babe?” he called out, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice, her heart racing as she froze in place, terrified that she had woken him up and that he might yell at her again. “Sorry, Spencer,” she whispered quickly, trying to keep her voice low. “I promise I was trying to be quiet. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“What? No, it’s okay, Y/N,” Spencer said, sitting up slowly, still disoriented from sleep. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. My head just hurt so bad.”

Y/N hesitated, her voice small and uncertain as she asked, “Is… is that why you yelled at me?”

Spencer blinked, the realization dawning on him like a cold splash of water. “Yelled at you… oh—oh my god, babe, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he said, his voice filled with guilt and regret. “I didn’t mean to upset you. My head… you were just talking so much, and it felt like my brain was going to explode.”

Y/N looked down, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the counter. “I didn’t realize my talking hurt your head so much,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

Spencer stood up, quickly closing the distance between them. He gently cupped her face in his hands, tilting her chin up so she would look at him. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated softly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down her cheek. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I wasn’t thinking straight. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Y/N flinched when Spencer touched her, an instinctive reaction that sent a jolt of pain through him. She had never done that before. His heart broke, and he immediately pulled his hands back, taking a step away from her, his expression filled with concern and guilt.

Y/N looked down at the ground, her mind racing as she tried to find the right words. She hadn’t meant to react that way, but the hurt and fear she’d felt earlier had lingered, and now she knew she had to explain it to him. 

Spencer watched her, his chest tightening with worry. “We need to talk more about this, don’t we?” he asked softly, his voice laced with regret.

Y/N nodded slowly, still avoiding his gaze. “Yeah,” she whispered, moving towards the couch, knowing that they needed to clear the air, even though the conversation ahead felt daunting.

Spencer followed her, sitting down beside her but keeping a respectful distance, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He waited for her to start, his heart heavy with the realization of how much he had hurt her. 

Y/N took a deep breath, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. “I’m not used to you being like that,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “You’ve never yelled at me before, and when you did… it just… it scared me. It… um, it reminded me of when my parents would yell. I don’t like to talk about it, really. But I just—I was afraid of you.”

Spencer’s heart sank, the weight of her words hitting him like a ton of bricks. He had never imagined he could make her feel that way, and the thought of her being afraid of him, even for a moment, was unbearable.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry. I never want you to feel afraid of me. I didn’t realize… I didn’t think… God, I’m so sorry.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I know you didn’t mean it, Spencer. But it brought up memories I thought I’d buried. I just… I can’t handle being yelled at. It makes me feel small, like I’m a kid all over again, and I just… I was afraid.”

Spencer moved closer, carefully reaching out to take her hands in his. “You never have to be afraid of me,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “I love you more than anything, and I hate that I made you feel that way. I promise I’ll never do that again. I’ll be more mindful, I swear.”

Y/N squeezed his hands, feeling a sense of relief as she looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity there. “I know you will,” she whispered, her voice softening. “I just needed to tell you how it made me feel. I don’t want to hold it in and let it fester.”

Spencer nodded, his heart aching with the need to make things right. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “We’ll work through this together, okay? I’m here for you, and I want you to feel safe with me.”

“I do,” Y/N replied, her voice filled with a mix of relief and affection. “I just needed to get past that moment. I know you’re not like them, Spencer. I know you’d never hurt me.”

Spencer pulled her into a gentle hug, holding her close as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back, resting her head against his chest as they held each other.

“I need to tell you something too,” Spencer said, his voice tentative.

Y/N looked at him, concern etched on her face. “Okay.”

“I’ve been getting pretty severe migraines recently… usually they happen when I’m at work. That was the first one you’ve witnessed.”

Y/N’s expression softened, her worry deepening. “Oh, Spence. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to worry you. I thought I could handle it, that it wasn’t a big deal. But clearly, I was wrong. I should’ve told you.”

Y/N reached out, gently placing her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to handle everything on your own, Spencer. We’re in this together, remember? I want to be there for you, especially when things get tough.”

“I know,” Spencer said, his voice filled with regret. “I just didn’t want to burden you with something else. But I see now that keeping it from you only made things worse.”

“You’re never a burden,” Y/N replied firmly, her eyes locking onto his. “I want to know when something’s wrong, so I can help. I care about you, Spence. That means all of you, even the hard stuff.”

Spencer felt a wave of emotion wash over him, grateful for her understanding and support. “Thank you, Y/N. I promise I’ll be more open with you from now on. I don’t want to keep things from you, especially something like this.”

“I’m here for you,” Y/N said, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure this out together. If these migraines are becoming a problem, we’ll find a way to manage them.”

Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of relief and comfort in her words. “I’m lucky to have you,” he whispered, his heart full of gratitude.

“And I’m lucky to have you too,” Y/N replied, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss. “We’ll take care of each other, okay?”

“Okay,” Spencer agreed, his voice steadying. “Together.”

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[mushies-stories]

patience 18+

part one (read part two here)

Stu Macher X F!Reader!Virgin

Summary: things get a little steamy during movie night and Stu makes you feel good for the first time after teasing you for months.

Wanrings: SMUT 18+, dry humping, dirty talk.

word count: 2324

Stu had been patent and slow with you, knowing you were a virgin and not wanting to force you into anything. He kissed you, explored your mouth with his expert tongue. He would even grope your hips and thighs, sometimes holding you from behind and messaging your breasts through the fabric of your bra while he kissed your neck. All in his slow attempt to get you comfortable and ready to take another step in your relationship. Even Though Billy mocked and teased Stu about getting so close to you and taking his sweet time, he didn’t mind. Billy could say whatever he wanted, after all it’s not Billy who has you turning into mush in his arms when your neck is being sucked and bit on. 

Watching you slowly fall apart for him was thrilling for him, you were becoming so sensitive the more he teased your body, kissed you until you had to pull away for air with a deep blush. Like now as you sat on Stu’s lap, legs straddling his sides while his hands held your hips gently. Some movie about a killer at a summer camp playing in the background, the tv being the only light in the room as your lips move softly against each other. Your skirt rode up enough so the only thing between your crotch and his were your cotton white panties. Your arms came to wrap loosely around his neck as you deepened the kiss a little, parting your lips and letting him slide his tongue into your warm mouth. You hummed softly as his hands traveled around to softly cup and rub your ass over your skirt, threatening to pull it up with little effort. 

After a moment you both needed to breathe. you pulled away first with soft breaths and rosy cheeks. Stu leaned down to kiss your cheek softly, then lower to your neck. “You're so pretty Babygirl, could kiss you all day.” he said between kisses that he was trailing along your jaw until he found the spot on your neck that had your hips twitch against him. A small smirk played at the corners of his mouth, his teeth grazed the same spot before he began to suck a pretty little purple bruise onto the delicate skin. Your eyes fluttered and you let out a soft gasp, your back arching a fraction. 

Stu, who was noticing every little movement, took the opportunity to scoop up more of your ass in his hands and slide you closer onto his lap. The friction it caused against your pussy made you tighten your grip around his neck and let out a soft moan. Your own hips jerked a little more this time and your pussy tingled at the sensation. You had an idea as to what Stu was trying to do to you. You noticed every time his touching and kissing had become progressively needier and more sensual over the past few weeks. You didn’t mind, but you also didn’t know how to tell him you wanted more. Your body was reacting to him constantly, even laying in bed you feel how wet your panties got at a memory of his hands wandering closer to your needy core. The only thing you had was your fingers and they just didn’t make you feel good enough, never satisfying you. 

You began to feel your wetness pooling in your panties, sure to be leaving a nice wet spot. You worried as Stu adorned your chest and neck with love bites that you could be causing a mess on his lap as well. You shifted a little, trying to lift your hips up a bit so you were no longer pressing against his cock that was slowly hardening under the layers of fabric. Stu frowned against your skin before pulling you back down and grinding you softly against himself. “Where are you trying to run to baby, need you to keep my lap warm.” he teased sweetly between kisses and nips. 

His hands kept a firm grip on your ass as he felt you slowly falling apart on his lap, your body mostly relaxed other than when your hips jerk a little from his hands squeezing and massaging your behind. You couldn't ignore how wet you were getting, sure you had to be leaving a mark on his jeans by now. “Stu…” you say softly, eyes fighting to stay open due to his soft lips on your hot skin. 

He hummed and looked up at you from your chest where he was sucking a mark that made sure you couldn’t show any cleavage any time soon. “What Baby?” he asked after pulling off and listening to your small whimper. 

You let out a soft sigh, regaining some kind of composure. “I think… well my um..” you end up stuttering out, embarrassed to tell him he was making you so wet you were also making a mess of his jeans. 

He leans back fully so he could give you his full attention, something he knows fluters you even more. His hands smooth down the back of your skirt and come back to rest on your hips, thumbs pressing softly into your sides. “What was that Baby?” he asks, turning his head to hear you better with a small smirk. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you shifted back again, hips pulling up from his crotch. “It’s… my panties.” your voice just above a whisper, your eyes were focused on the little space between your bodies. “They're all wet and making… making a mess on...” you cut yourself off, the rest of the sentence dying off in your throat.

Stu gave you a playful pout. “Oh Baby Girl, pussy getting needy for me?” he teased, that cheeky smirk back in place. He brings your hips down again, this time rolling his own up to elicit a short whimpery moan from you. “Pussy aching at the thought of my cock getting hard right under you, that right baby?” He asked when you didn't respond, delivering another roll of his hips. 

You nod your head softly while looking at your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Mhmm, hurts Stu.” you say, a pout of your own forming on your face. 

Chuckling softly Stu starts to rock your hips back and forth, not fast or hard, just teasingly slow. “Hurts? Oh, sweet girl can't help soaking my lap with your dripping little pussy huh?” He teased, voiced laced with pure desire now. “Want me to make you feel better baby?” he asked. 

You nod again. Your eyes flutter a little as your clit is grazed along his cock uncethe thick fabric of his jeans. “Please.” you breath out,voice barely even audible, if he wasn’t so close he would have had to strain to hear you. 

Stu’s smiles softness, you were trying to be brave and speak up and he could tell. His heart beat faster knowing it was him you were being so vulnerable with. “Of course baby, you asked so bravely and sweetly, how could I deny that?” he cooed. “move your hips and follow my hands okay Baby?” he instructed.

“Okay.” you respond softly. When his hands pulled you forward you were unprepared for the amount of pressure he started with. You gasped and held yourself steady against him while you found a rhythm together. You rolled your hips more evenly in time with his own and managed to pick up the pace to match the force he was using on your hips. It wasn't long before you were letting out soft little moans and whimpers, his cock pressing perfectly against your clit even through all the fabrics. “Stu… feels good.” you sigh, eyes rolling up a little as your brain becomes foggy from the new pleasure you were feeling. 

Stu looked at you in awe, your face shifting from concentration to bliss in moments had his cock twitching in his pants. He needed this just as much as you did, he didn’t mind the wait but seeing you so desperate was making his cock so hard he couldn't help but pull your hips even harder. 

Your pussy grinding fast and hard against his cock was making the sweetest mewls and whimpers leave your plump lips. “You sound so sweet Baby girl, such beautiful noises just for me.” He praised along with a harsh roll of his hips. 

Your back arches and allows your clit to rub against his cock even more and your legs shudder a little at the feeling. His cock was big and the length was more than you figured you could feel with clothes on. Soon you began to feel a knot building in the pit of your stomach, your pussy was throbbing against the slick of your panties. “Feels so go-od, Stu I think-” you whimper, looking at Stu with big eyes, trying to tell him you need to cum, that you're so close. 

Stu cocked his head to the side with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Want to cum sweet girl, that's it?” he asked. He really wanted to tease you more, make you spell it out and make you squirm until he finally gives you his cock in full. For now he settled on this, watching up ruin you pretty little panties on his lap. “Alright, I got you. Show me how good it feels rubbing your pretty pussy on my cock Babygirl.” he encouraged. 

You nod your head rapidly, pulling your chest closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. You chased your high with help from Stu’s hold on you, making sure to keep you in place so he could rut his hips up and press your clit firm against his cock with every thrust. Your eyes fluttered shut, your lips parted as you let moans and whines fall pathetically from your lips. Stu drank in every desperate and needy noise you gave him. His cock was throbbing and leaking precum. 

Finally that feeling in your stomach snapped, your hips would have slowed if it wasn't for Stu making sure to rock you through your first orgasim. “Mmm Stu- please don't st-op.” You whine and cling to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You let out a strangled moan, your shaky breath fanning the side of his neck. 

“That's it, so good for me baby.” he praised, trying to keep it together but he was right behind you, once he felt your body relax a bit he continued rutting himself against your dripping core while he moved your hips at a steady pace. He could feel how wet you were, your sensitive messy pussy was soaking his lap and you whimpered softly as he moved you. Another harsh pull of your hips has his cock twitching and his cum coating the inside of his boxers. He let your body sag against his own, arms coming up to wrap around your back and pull you closer. “You did so good Baby, came so good for me.” Stu kissed the top of your head. 

You smiled and snuggled into him more. “You made me feel so good, Stu.” you said sweetly. You pull back and look down at your laps, your skirt covering the mess that lays underneath. 

Stu notices your curiosity and chuckles softly, his hand bundles up the fabric of your skirt and pulls it up. “Dirty girl.” he muses. “Look at the mess you made of me.” He teased you. 

Your face was feeling hot again, your panties were a mess and you had indeed made a rather large wet spot on his crotch. “I'm so sorry, I’ll clean them an-”

“Baby.” Stu stopped you with a squeeze of your thigh. “Never be sorry for this.” He said. Letting go of your skirt, he slides his hand down and into your panties. He slides his middle finger through your slick folds and your whimper at the feeling and practically whines as he pulls his hand from your core. He places his middle finger flat against his tongue and licks your cum clean from the long digit with a low groan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head a moment. “Fuck, not when you taste this sweet Babygirl.” He said.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach was starting to stir again watching him taste you. Your pussy is almost aching at the sight. “Can't believe you teased me for months and made me wait to feel that good.” you pout, a hint of playfulness in your eyes.

Stu laughed. “Figured that out? My shy girl was just too scared to say anything?” he mocked.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “Not scared… just waiting for you to make a move.” you lied.

Stu chuckled and rolled his hips up rather harshly. You gasp softly and your hands flew out to spread across his chest to keep your balance on his lap. “That so? Well I made my move Babygirl, what's yours?” He challenged that little attitude you just attempted to throw at him. 

You tried to say something, move and do something but you froze. Being put on the spot making you back down and look at him with innocent eyes full of confusion. 

Stu brought a hand up to up your warm cheek, his thumb stroked over your bottom lip. “Awe baby.” he cooed. “It's okay, you'll get there but for now let me take care of it okay?” he said sweetly. You nodded and nuzzled into his hand a little. He smiled and nodded back. “Good, now why don't we go get cleaned up baby, as much as i'd rather keep you glued to my crotch.” he joked. 

You rolled your eyes and giggled. Thankful you had Stu who cared so much about you, you knew you would be safe with him and were ready for whatever came next.

[stayinlimbo]

hotel check-ins

pairing: idol!lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff requested?: yes warnings: cuteness, slight suggestiveness towards the end, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, lowercase intended word count: 1.0k note: (did i add three different lee know pics because i don't know how to find three from the same shoot...maybe). thank you @starfire21 for the request. i hope i did it justice. now playing - billie bossa nova ♡

as the girlfriend of a kpop idol, you’ve become somewhat of a pro at navigating security.

badge check? easy. safety briefing? lightwork (no reaction). being inconspicuous? you got a couple side-eyes from the hotel receptionists at the sunglasses and mask obscuring your face, but it’s nothing you haven’t handled before. 

the only trouble you had was using the codename minho texted you after the concert to obtain his suite number from the front desk. in fact, it’s the first thing you gripe about after your boyfriend whisks you inside the room the two of you will reside in for the night.

“really? ‘lee jisung?’ who chose that?”

“i did.”

“shocker.”

“i know. i wanted ‘lee know is cute’ but they said no,” minho replies casually, a smile illuminating his face.

the sigh you let out is mostly for show at this point, in contrast to the no longer suppressed grin you display in return. you can’t even pretend to be annoyed at the man who tugged you through the doorway after a singular knock. 

minho’s hand still gently holds your wrist, and he uses this to his advantage to pull you closer to him. a synchronized “oof” leaves both of your lips as you collide into his chest, taken aback by his unexpected strength. light laughter fills the otherwise silent room as you settle into a familiar embrace. 

his arms traverse to your waist, guiding your body to nestle further against his. wrapping your arms around his neck, you rest your cheek on his collarbone, tilting your head slightly to press a tender kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

the scent of minho’s shampoo fills your senses as your hand roams through his semi-dry hair. from this angle, you can tell that his stage makeup has been carefully wiped off for the night, revealing the small, beautiful imperfections you love oh so much. 

“i missed you,” you mumble, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“i missed you too” minho breathes, squeezing your frame tighter, “the door was unlocked, you know? you could’ve just walked in.”

“aw, poor baby,” you coo teasingly, pulling back slightly to face him, “it must’ve been torture to be without me for so long.”

“you say that as if it wasn’t the same for you,” he retorts lightly, moving his hands to rest on your hips. you can’t help the laughter that escapes you as he gently shakes you in place in retaliation. as if you would ever feel otherwise.

you reach up to pinch his cheek, smile growing even wider at his feigned disgruntled expression fighting (and losing) against the tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“stay would be so jealous right now if they knew about this,” you say once you’ve calmed down enough. 

“about what?” 

“this side of you.”

the small, genuine smile adorning his face at your words. the light dusting of blush across his cheeks that reaches the tips of his ears. the post-concert afterglow still lingering on his expression, eyes flickering over your features ever so slightly more than normal. the way he tries to act nonchalant as he brings his face closer to yours.

the side only you get to see.

“mm, too bad for them then,” minho whispers. his breath intertwines with yours at his proximity, stopping a breadth away from your mouth. just a little closer. “i’m yours.”

“yeah, you’re mine,” you murmur, moving forward to close the distance between your lips.

small chimes emitting from his pajama short’s pocket compel you to plant a tiny peck on the corner of his mouth instead, slowly pulling away as he attempts to chase your lips. 

“aren't you going to check that, min?” you ask, chuckling at his soft protests from the denied affection. 

a cute pout forms on his face, accompanied by furrowed brows, as one of his hands releases your hip to dig his phone out of his pocket. your thumb brushes over his cheekbone as he stares at the phone before turning it off and tossing the small device over his shoulder. quiet thuds echo around the room as it lands and bounces on the hotel bed.

wait. what?

“min–”

your words are interrupted by minho’s soft, moisturized lips enveloping your own. your eyes flutter shut as he allows you to take the lead, slowly brushing your lips against his, savoring the taste of fresh mint on his tongue. minho deepens the kiss, grabbing your palm cradling his cheek and holding it flat against his chest, right above his heart—where you always reside. 

minho’s pupils are blown out when you pull away for air, which you have no doubt mirrors your own. heavy breaths mingle together as you both try to regain composure. his heart beats widely beneath your touch and you’re unable to resist the heat spreading across your cheeks at the effect you have on him.  

“could that have been important?” you question, glancing over at the phone resting behind him. 

“maybe,” minho shugs. his eyes trail back down to your lips, drawing you in again for a heated kiss. “not more important than you though.”

his heart still pulses erratically under the press of your hand. you meet his half-lidded gaze with a smile, letting your eyes wander across his slightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks. you push the bangs that fell into his face out of his eyes, giving a teasing kiss to the tip of his nose.             

well played.

“i take it you still have energy leftover?” you smirk, already knowing the answer. “need any help with that?”

minho’s eyes widen, his grasp on your hips tightening as a shiver runs down his spine. you didn’t think his heart could beat any faster.

“the walls aren’t soundproof. chan will break down the door.” 

“maybe you should go lock it then.”

minho’s never moved faster in his life. 

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺

bonus: (“should i call you lee jisung now?”

“please don’t.”)

bonus 2: (“how’d you know the rooms aren’t sound proof?”

“felix brought his gaming pc.”

“oh.”)

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabble: my strange addiction

A/N: I see everyone writing about touch starved Astarion so I had to give it a shot. This is Tav insert instead of reader.

Recommended Song: my strange addiction - billie eilish

It was odd to him, to say the least. Being in a relationship without sex. His purpose for most of his life had been to seduce and manipulate. Tactics that still felt like they were written into his every thought. Finding someone who didn’t require that intimacy was even more odd.

Tav could see through him so easily. She could see his struggles and see how tense he got when there was mention of his past. He doesn’t know how, maybe she drugged him, but he opened up to her. He was drawn to her, in a way he couldn’t describe.

Everything about her calmed him. She made him feel like the person he was before Cazador found him. He felt like himself again. He didn’t wake up in the mornings with a sense of dread anymore, because she was always there to ground him.

She didn’t request anything from him, any kind of intimacy at all. The only kind of physical affection was that which Astarion requested. And he found himself requesting it more and more.

He simply wanted to be held. To be touched. And she was more than happy to oblige.

As another day filled with harsh encounters comes to an end, Astarion reflects on this. And feels giddy at the prospect of being held by Tav again.

He enters her tent later that night. She’s waiting for him, laying on her side while her eyes start to grow heavy from sleep.

She sits up when he enters. “Do you want…?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately.

She makes room for him in the bedroll. He doesn’t hesitate to climb in next to her. They fall into their usual position. He lets his head nestle under his chin, his cheek resting against her chest.

He feels her hand start to play with his hair. She twirls the strands at the base of his neck, then gently runs her fingers through the curls.

The rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic, and he begins to grow drowsy at the sound of her heartbeat. So steady and strong. He can’t remember the last time he allowed his guard to come down around anyone. It would feel foreign if it weren’t for how comforting you are.

Her warm skin against his is intoxicating. He never knew skin could be so soft, so inviting. Of course, he never allowed himself to notice these things before.

Her other hand brushes the white curls on his forehead back. And her fingers trace the shape of his face. Delicious tingles begin in his forearms, working their way up until he feels them in his spine.

A sigh leaves his lips. He could die right now and he wouldn’t care. As long as he could stay in her arms.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Summary: Deaf!Reader. Takes place during Scream 5

Warnings: violence

WC: 3.9k

Author’s Note: hope y’all enjoy :D sorry for any mistakes.

Tara watched with a lazy smile as you tried to teach Sam sign language. While Sam had been gone in the past five years. She had met you. You had been a new student freshman year, she had been quick to become your friend. It had been so easy to befriend you. It was even easier to fall in love with you. Even with her relationship with Amber, she did feel guilty for falling out of love with Amber. But the more her feelings grew for you, the more she realized maybe she wasn't in love with Amber. And even though she had broken up with Amber a while ago now, in the hopes of gathering the courage to ask you on a date. She still couldn't find the courage.

She had been told by Wes that you had been by her side the moment she was out of surgery. Refusing to go to school and to stay by her side. It warmed her heart, the way you cared about her. The way you had cried when she finally did wake up. She had been so scared, scared that she'd die without ever telling you how she felt. Die without ever seeing your beautiful face.

Now as she laid on the hospital bed resting, she watched as you smiled at Sam. A silent laugh escaping your lips at how wrong Sam mostly signed her own name. If this was her second chance at life, she wasn't going to waste it.

*

You had been scared. Afraid of what Tara had gone through, how she almost died. It was why you refused to leave her alone. You had stepped out when Sam typed on her phone if she could speak to Tara alone. You had nodded respecting her want of privacy. With kiss on the top of Tara's head, who smiled up at you. You signed that you'd be right outside.

You were skeptical of Sam's boyfriend. You weren't sure why. He just gave you a weird vibe. So you avoided being around him. When he had asked (by text) you to go with him to grab snacks you politely declined.

It wasn't long till you saw the door open. Sam coming out of the room. Tears blurring her vision. You stood up straight going to where she leaned on the wall. Quickly taking your phone out and typing in your notes.

Is everything okay?

You watched as she wiped her tears before taking your phone from your hands in a gentle manner. Her fingers hesitating over the letters before typing. Handing your phone back to you.

Please just stay with her, don't leave her alone. I have to go figure some things out. I'll be back soon. Okay?

You nodded. Softly squeezing her shoulder in a way you hoped came off as reassuring. With a nod she walked away. As soon as she walked away you went into the room. The sight of a sobbing Tara breaking your heart. You were quick to go to her side when she raised her arms a clear sign of wanting comfort.

Tara had regretted the moment she yelled at Sam. But the emotions had been strong. The fear she felt had doubled tenfold. Now she knew the person that attacked her wasn't random. Someone had targeted her to get to Sam. The daughter of that, murderer. Sam was nothing like that man. Even though she had no idea what or how Sam had spent the last five years. But she knew in her heart Sam wasn't like Billy.

Having your arms wrapped around her. Your hands careful not to hurt any wound of hers, your fingers gently creasing her in way that had the butterflies in her stomach to flutter. Her head resting on your chest. Hearing your steady heartbeat was enough to calm her down.

From the moment she woke up she had noticed your hearing aids were not in your ears. Making you completely deaf. Your hearing aids helped you a lot more than anything. With your hearing aids you were able to hear some things. Like how you always smiled when you faintly heard her voice. The way you smiled when ever she spoke, the way it made her feel was unexplainable. You had once said that her voice was like the softest melody to your ears. It was something that had her ears red from how hard she had blushed.

But with the hearing aids gone. You couldn't hear. Wes's mom had told her that you were the first one in the hospital. It had been 2:00 in morning when you arrived at the hospital still in your pajamas. The pajamas that she had gotten you, the ones of your favorite superhero. Wes had brought you a change of clothing with some toiletries. But he had also forgotten your hearing aids.

Talk to me. Are you okay?

Tara read the text, taking the phone to use the dictation seeing as she couldn't use her other hand to type.

Sam's father is Billy Loomis. It's the reason why she left five years ago. It's why ghostface attacked me. To get her to come back to Woodsboro. I don't blame her for the attack. I could never blame her for that but. I kicked her out of the room and I feel horrible. I let my emotions get the best of me.

She laid her head back on your chest. Waiting for you to finish reading what she typed. She felt your hands move to type.

What you're feeling is valid. What you went through was traumatic, I can't imagine what you're feeling. Sam's hurt I won't lie on that part. She said she'll be back soon. Get some rest, I'll wake you when she gets here.

Tara let out a sigh, her eyes closing momentarily. After reading the text. Breathing in your scent, you had showered and changed in the bathroom connected to her room. You had always had a scent that calmed her. You in general were always one to calm her down. There was just something about your presence or maybe it was the fact that she was in love with you. Or maybe it was both.

"I wish you knew how much I love you." She spoke softly into your neck, a spot she knew was sensitive. She felt your shoulders go up a bit, small sound escaping your lips, one she knew very well. It was the closest thing to a giggle you would let out. She felt your arms gently moving her body closer to you.

Get some rest.

*

You weren't sure what woke you up. You hadn't realized when you fell asleep. You had tried to stay awake. Making sure to protect Tara cause that asshole was still out there. But you must have been a whole lot tired than you thought. You looked around the room. It was barely lit, the lights had been dimmed down and tv was shut off. Tara was still fast asleep in your arms.

So what woke you up?

*

After successfully getting out of Tara's grip you made your way to the door cautiously. Opening the door to what was supposed to be a some what busy hall. But it was empty and you were positive it was quiet as well. A hospitals hall way should never be this empty. There's always at least one nurse around. You looked back at Tara who was still sleeping.

You just had to make sure everything was okay. But you had a nagging feeling of, dread? Something was making you feel uncomfortable, like you should go back into the room. You looked down the hall, straining your ears to hear something, anything. But you heard nothing. Debating whether to go check on the nurses that were at the nurses station.

Your steps were quiet, well you hoped they were. You knew ghostface was still out there. The more you walked towards where the nurses should be. The more your palms became sweaty. You felt your body freeze in fear at the sight of the dead officer. The same officer that was supposed to be guarding Tara's room. His body laying in a pool of blood, along with the bodies of two other nurses. You stumbled backwards. You felt this sense of someone being behind you.

With only seconds to react as the blade was quickly swiped at your face. You had dodged the knife, barely. Ghostface was here to finish the job. But you wouldn't let it happen. It would have to kill you before this bitch could get to Tara.

*

A loud crash had startled her awake. Upon hearing what had sounded like glass shattering she was quick to look for you. The dread filling her stomach when she didn't see you and saw the door wide open. She heard a struggle happening down the hall. Along with the heart monitor going crazy. She struggled to get up. But the more she heard the struggling the more determined she was to get up. She had to find you.

Crying in pain when the stitches of more than one of her wounds pulled. As she got on the wheelchair. By the time she got on to the wheelchair, she was already sweating from the pain she was feeling. She heard groans and then what seemed to be someone. Crashing through a window.

Moving the quickest she could with just one hand, her bandaged hand only being able to do so much. To wheel herself to the door. Getting to the door when another loud yell of pain echoed through the halls. This time she was able to hear the scream a lot clearer. The scream rattled her bones. Gripped her heart in a tight fist. Those screams were yours.

She moved quicker. Ignoring her own pain to get to you. Moving the best she could. Going into the now quiet hall. But she could see obvios signs of a struggle.

"Y/n?"

Tears filled her eyes. She feared on how she'd find you. Moving further down the hall. Towards the mess, the broken glass. Stopping when she heard a groan. Not caring for her own safety. Desperate to get to you. But the further she went the more the dread filled her. Eyes widening in fear at the sight of the dead cop. The amount of blood on the floor.

She moved towards the broken glass.  Only to stop when she heard footsteps coming from a room

"Hello Tara, looking for someone."

*

You had fought the best you could. But the more you fought. The harder ghostface fought back. You had been successful in kicking the knife out of its hand, but they had used their fists. Punching and kicking you, whenever it could. You tried to fight back. But this ghostface seemed to know all your weaknesses. Even with that, you weren't one to quit. Especially since Tara was not even a few feet away from you.

But ghostface had gotten the upper hand. Being able to hold you down with its body. They had gotten the knife back, before they had your arms pinned to your side. As they looked down at you. Their weight holding you down. Toying its knife into your already bloodied wound. Before forcing it in, the pain being so over bearing. The scream that ripped through your throat. You may have not been able to hear it but it must have been loud. Ghostface waisted no time in covering your mouth.

The knife was left buried into your shoulder as it stayed on top. Slapping your cheek to make you look at them. Your vision blurred from the immense pain you were feeling. But you saw the hand movements.

You stole something that was mine. And now you're going to pay for it.

You were left confused. Your mind racing, trying to figure out what this nut job could possibly be talking about. As far as you could tell you had gotten along with everyone. Well as best as you could. You usually kept to yourself. Ever since you moved to Woodsboro. You had always been respectful to others. When you had befriended Tara, people had even tried to befriend you as well.

Ghostface reached for their knife, twisting it before taking it out. His hand covered your mouth as the scream of pain ripped through your throat.

"Y/n?"

You felt a new sense of fear as you heard Tara's voice. You didn't want her to see you die. You didn't want her to feel any type of guilt. You knew her well enough to know that she would find any reason to blame herself. You were then forcefully pulled up. Being led back into the hall way. Your eyes quick to find Tara.

"No, no please. Leave her out of this, she has nothing to do with this." She sobbed trying to find anything that could help you. She couldn't lose you. Not now. Not ever. Your face was covered in blood along your shirt. The way your eyes shined with worry. Worry for her, not yourself who was in the arms of a psycho. The knife was dangerously close to your neck.

"Oh Tara. That's where you're wrong. She's a thief, and now she'll pa-"

The knife had been pulled from your neck, enough time for you to elbow Ghostface in the stomach. Taking advantage of having the upper hand to continue beating on this crazy bitch. Being able to pick up one of the IV poles. Beating down on Ghostfaces back. When ghostface failed to move. You were quick to turn around facing Tara. You needed get Tara out of the hospital.

You watched the little relief Tara had, disappear. Replaced with fear, her face morphing into one horror as she screamed. You couldn't hear her scream, but you knew she was. You didn't have a chance to respond to the sudden change of facial expressions before you felt a sudden pain coming from the back of your skull. The pain causing you to lose consciousness for what felt like hours.

You regained consciousness in an elevator. The back of your head still ached, the ringing in your ears felt almost felt like you could actually hear. The warm sensation of hands cupping your cheeks, is what caused your eyes to finally open. Only taking a second to find the pair of eyes you wanted to find. Tara was hovering over you, her face scrunched up from the amount of pain she was surely feeling. Her eyes filled with tears, you could feel her body shaking. You were sure she was sobbing.

You had barely registered the other people in the elevator. Or the paramedics who were trying to help you. All you were worried about was Tara. The fear that coursed through your body was still very much present.

**

With a mild concussion, some buries, cuts and stitches to the stab wound you received had been deep enough to need stitches. But thankfully not too deep to hit any vital points. You had been told about the plan of getting the hell out of Woodsboro. And Tara didn't have to beg for you agree. You would follow Tara to ends of the world, if you could.

Being in the car with Tara, Sam and her boyfriend had felt sudden. Agreeing that the safest thing to do was to get out of Woodsboro, ignoring anything said by Gale Weathers and Sidney Prescott. You had seen the way the two older woman spoke to Sam. As you helped Tara into the car.

The feeling of Tara taking your hand to pull you into the car drew your eyes back to Tara. Being able to read her lips as she spoke slowly. "Come on."

Taking her hand in yours as you sat next to her. Reaching over to put on her seat belt. Your face heating up when she leaned a bit forward to kiss you on the cheek. Your face wasn't that far from hers. The way smiled at you. Her lips moved, your eyes taking in how soft they looked.

"Thank you."

Leaning back in your seat to put on your own seatbelt. Hoping the car was dark enough for anyone see how  flustered you looked.

*

Wait down here. I won't be long.

You nodded at the text on the phone. Tara offered you a smile before going up towards the room. With her inhaler missing, she needed her spare which was at Amber's house. Seeing no problem with Tara keeping her spare at her exes house who she was still friends with. Tara had told you that when she broke up with Amber, Amber had been respectful, Amber had been hurt but she accepted that Tara didn't feel the same anymore.

You had always thought Amber had taken the break up quite well if you were being honest.

Staying in the corner of the living room as the party guest left the house. Seeing Sam follow Tara and Amber. Richie leaving to what you assumed was the basement. Mindy and Lev talking, you saw the suspicious look Mindy was casting towards Lev. You looked Lev with a small smile when she turned towards you.

How are you?

Yea I'm okay. What about you lev?

Lev returned the smile and shrugged. Doing okay, I'm going to go look for Chad. With a nod she walked away. You sat on the other side of the couch, looking at the tv but not really watching. Your mind wondered, trying to figure out what ghostface meant when it called you a thief. You've never stollen from anyone. You tried to come up any suspects like Mindy does. But you came up empty. You would ask her but she was drunk and clearly too into the movie.

Which had been ironic seeing as she was watching Stab.

The sudden change had happened quickly feeling the rapid movement had your head snapping to the side. Seeing the familiar black cloak. You had tackled ghostface off Mindy as he stabbed her. It had been easy for ghostface to get the upper hand. With Mindy being drunk, you're injured shoulder. Sam thankfully arriving on time to smash a lamp over ghostfaces head.

Quickly checking you before going to Mindy. You hated not being able to hear. Ghostface had been right behind you and you hadn't been aware. You stood up the moment Tara and Amber came into the living room. Tara quickly moving to you,  her uninjured hand cupping your jaw.

Are you hurt?

With a shake of your head you took her hand in yours giving it a small squeeze before she moved to check on Mindy. You watched the moment Lev ran in, her hands covered in blood as cried. Her lips were moving too fast for you to understand. Along with Amber's who seemed to be more angry than scared. You desperately wanted to know what was being said, why everyone looked scared at Lev the more Amber spoke.

Even with your hearing being absent you felt the vibration of the gun. Saw with wide eyes as Lev fell to floor lifeless with the gunshot in the middle of her forehead. Seeing the change in Amber's eyes as she held the gun, smoke still coming from the end of it. You saw her lips move but you couldn't tare your eyes away from the gun.

Everything was starting to make sense. The way Amber's attitude changed the moment Tara broke up with her. How Amber became a bit more aggressive towards you but if Amber was ghostface. That means it had been Amber to attack Tara. To almost kill Tara. Amber had been the one to attack you and Tara at the hospital.

The moment her eyes connected to yours it had been like a switch. The gun pointed at you.

Tara didn't hesitate, the moment she realized the gun was now pointing at you she lunged forward. Before she could fire the gun like she had done to Lev, she had been fast enough to move the gun to fire at the ceiling and not at you.

You had moved to go to Tara but a rough hand had pulled on your wrist preventing you. Pulling your wrist from Richie’s hold before he could reach the basement. Once you were out of his grip you ran back to the living room. Your heart thumbing like crazy in your ears.

There was no one in the living room. Just one Tara’s crutches. You only had ever been at Amber’s house a hand full of times. Never being able to remember where everything was at. So seeing that Tara was no longer in the living room was causing you panic even more. You had to find Tara.

*

Sam heard screams, the moment she came out of the basement. Screams of pure pain, a cry she’s never heard before. When she got closer to the clear struggle, she came to face with a horrifying sight. A bloodied Amber standing over you, your fingers were bleeding and broken, your face slashed in way that was clearly going to leave a deep scar.

“Oh hello Sam. You like my work. It’ll teach her not to be a thief.” With a final kick your face, rendering you unconscious.

*

Waking up with bright lights shining down on to you was blinding and painful. The ache coming from both of your hands had almost been overwhelming. The curtains had been closed before you could really take in, where you were at. Your eyes refusing to open until, a familiar hand cupped your cheek. You’d be able to recognize the hands anywhere. The size, the warmth, the softness.

Opening your eyes to see the beautiful face of your best friend looking down at you.

Tara had remembered the moment she snuck towards the kitchen. Seeing your body unmoving on the kitchen floor, she had picking up the gun and shooting Amber with out a second thought. Amber had been someone she deeply cared about. Amber had been her best friend before she had been her girlfriend. But the girl she had killed. The girl who had almost killed you. That was someone she didn’t recognize.

Feeling Tara’s hand on your ear, you realized she was putting on your hearing aids.

“Can you hear me?” The smile on your face was just the answer she wanted.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice was soft barely a whisper but she loved it either way. The relief she felt when she watched you open your eyes the afternoon after everything happened. You had been asleep for the past 14 hours after Richie and Amber were put down. The pure comfort, calmness she had felt so over come at seeing your pretty y/ec eyes. It had been enough to make her cry.

“I’m okay. We’ll be okay.”

Sam watched from outside the room. Watching how her little sister looked at you Tara cared for you. How she had cried for you. Now she understood why Amber called you a thief. You hadn’t stollen anything physically. But you had clearly taken Tara’s heart. Something Amber never had.

:)

[phfenomena]

“you’re my only hope of getting into heaven, angel.” || William H. Bonney x reader

giving cowboy realness fr

| WARNINGS- sexual innuendo

| William H. Bonney x Reader fluff

the morning air is crisp and clean as it filters in through the windows and propagates throughout the entire house. the sudden chill and the bright rays of light beaming into your eyes forced them open.

jesus christ it feels like the middle of january in here.

your gaze settles upon your still slumbering partner. you shuffle closer and wedge yourself into his arms, your chest pressing into his. he stirs lightly as you continue to make yourself comfortable, as if he’s a heated rag doll.

“what are you doing, angel?” he croaks above you, voice thickly laced with sleep.

you hum softly “nothing, just freezing in here. you’re warm, like a nice campfire.” he chuckles softly and pulls you closer. his head perks up to press a kiss against the top of yours.

“it’s so damn cold, i might already have hypothermia. you’ll have to warm me up better than this.” you nod as you talk and stare lightly up at him, your smile residing in her eyes.

“why don’t i get up and close the windows, doll? that might fix your deadly condition.” he muses from above you. you ponder the idea but ultimately reject.

“you’ll leave me alone and cold in bed. you said i was your sweetheart. how could you leave me when i’m on death's doorstep?” you pout and he rolls his eyes.

“you’re too dramatic for your own good.” he rubs his arms over every inch he can reach to bring your temperature up.

“i won’t let you go dying on me, darling. you’re my only hope of getting into heaven, angel, so we gotta go together. i’ll have to jump the gates if you go first.” he almost whispers against your ear, his voice still not wanting to wake up. you look up at him and smile softly, your hand trailing up and settling on the side of his face. “you’re a good man, billy. even if god didn’t let you into heaven, i’d run down to hell for you. atleast i wouldn’t be cold there.” you smile wide and lean up to press your lips together.

he moves his hand to rest behind your head as he attempts to deepens the kiss while slowing the pace that your lips meet at. he reluctantly pulls back and takes a deep breath. his hand trailing down and drawing shapes on your hip. “you know, i could think of a few ways to warm you up real quick.” he smirks against your lips and narrows his eyes while looking into your wide ones. raising his eyebrows he rolls on top of you.

“i think that sounds like a wonderful idea, mr. bonney.” you wrap your arms around his neck and admire him. his messy hair, his tired eyes, and his dopey grin plastered across his face. yeah, you’d follow him to hell.

“hey billy i know it’s real early but-“ jesse saunters through the bedroom door and stops with wide eyes upon seeing the encounter. “i’ll…come back later.” he quickly averts his eyes down to avoid eye contact and firmly shuts the door.

billy’s head hangs low as you both hysterically laugh and he rolls off of you. “works calling, angel. are you warm or do i need to stay in bed with you all day?” he spoke softly as he fiddled with pieces of your hair and the lace from your nightgown.

“i’ll be okay, billy. you better get goin’ before jesse comes back in here” you smile as you kiss one last time and watch billy undress then dress again. shamelessly eyeing him until he leaves the room, not without one more kiss.

you’d fight the damn devil for that man.

[bookshelf-dust]

i was made to love you

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @suledins

word count: 1,879

warnings: teeny bit of swearing (i think?), reader has some bad experience with romantic things/insecurities/trust issues, anxious habits (lip picking), anxiety/slight panicking, otherwise quite soft and comforting

a/n: well, hello! i haven’t written for billy since october (gasp), but i’m happy to say that i finally got some inspiration for him again and i am pretty pleased with how this turned out. that inspiration was courtesy of a few prompt lists i found! the first being from this list by @euthymiaaa and the second from this list by @creativepromptsforwriting !! both of those were extremely helpful in getting me back in the groove of things. please check those blogs out!! anyway, i hope you will find some comfort in this and that you’ll enjoy. happy reading!!! <333

————

“What’s the matter with you?”

Billy isn’t being mean when he asks you this. His tone isn’t cruel, but instead there’s a lilt to his voice, an almost desperate one. 

He’s asking you to talk to him. The way you’ve been standoffish towards him all day is freaking him out. Your lip is raw from how aggressively you’ve chewed at it, since you’d rather do that than voice your feelings.

But he can’t take seeing you act this way.

“Come on. The windows are gonna start rattling with how you’re bouncin’ your leg, babe.”

You stop on instinct, red-stained fingernails moving back to your bottom lip. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Billy. Just having a bad day.”

But that’s not totally true. Your day had been mundane at best. This feeling, your acting this way, had started when he’d shown up this morning, unannounced, with flowers in his hand. For you. 

Something inside you broke upon seeing him there, knowing he’d spent money on you, knowing that for some reason he was thinking about you. You can’t understand it.

Billy gets up from his place on the couch. His socked feet move across the carpet until he’s sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. His hand grips your knee. You can’t avoid him this way, and it frustrates you even more, because why is it your attention that he wants? 

“I know you better by now than to believe that,” he says firmly.

You can’t handle this. You sit up further on the couch and criss cross your legs so they’re out of his reach. You try not to notice the flash of pain across his face. You’re retreating from him and he doesn’t like it. 

“Why are you doing this, Billy?”

He blinks. “Doing what?”

“Bringing me flowers. Thinking about me. Wanting to spend time with me. Touching me, calling me those names. Why do you do all of that to me?” Your voice breaks over that last word and you exhale, hard. 

Billy’s eyebrows knit together. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stare at him like he’s suddenly grown a third eye. Like it should be obvious to him why doing all of these things is wrong.

You lift your hand and rub at your chest. “Because I’m me.”

Billy lets out a huff of a laugh, looking over his shoulder like there must be some hidden camera in the room. “Yeah, and?”

Your eyes water. “Can’t you see all that’s wrong with me? There’s so many other girls you could be spending time with. So many you could love or pamper. We’re not even together and you-you’re treating me like I’m special.”

You stand up, now short of breath. Billy stands with you. You keep rubbing your chest. You slip a hand under your sweatshirt and squeeze the soft of your side, leaving fingernail imprints in your skin.

He moves quickly across the floor, recognizing that you’re starting to panic. He takes your hand in his, but keeps your clasped fingers pressed against your chest, just under your collarbones.

“You are special. To me, you’re the only girl in the world,” Billy says. But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are glued to some spot behind his head. He presses his thumb to your jaw. “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes find his and he follows a tear as it makes its way down your cheek. “You’re the only girl in the world.”

Your eyes flutter shut and you pull away from him. 

“Th-this doesn’t make sense. I’m not the kind of girl that receives flowers or gets loved on or gets chosen. You’re my favorite person in the world, Billy, but I can’t possibly be what you want.”

He maintains eye contact with you, trying to understand why you’re behaving this way. Why you don’t believe his motives behind treating you the way he does. Like a princess.

You continue on, starting to pace. “My default is being a nervous wreck, Billy. I hate leaving the house, I don’t have any prospects, I’m not exciting…and I don’t have anything t-to offer you.”

And then it clicks.

Everything comes rushing into Billy’s mind, and he understands now, why you’re so confused, why you’re so afraid of the fact that he’s choosing you.

You’ve never had someone treat you this way. The last guy you talked to, the only guy you’ve talked to, wanted you first. But then you realized he wanted to talk when he needed something. You got attached and he took advantage of that. He dangled everything you’d ever wanted right in front of your face and then took it all away.

And now you’re trying to figure out why someone would want you.

The next words to leave your mouth snap Billy out of his stupor.

“I don’t deserve you.” 

Billy swipes a hand down his face, fingers traveling to the back of his neck where he tugs at his hair to keep himself composed. Nothing is more frustrating than having the best girl he’s ever known in front of him and she can’t even see a shred of the value she has. How good she is. 

He sighs. “If you think I am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you’re wrong.”

You stop moving and slowly step back towards the couch. Your hands reach out for the cushions first, like you need to steady yourself or you won’t be able to sit properly. 

This is the part where he’s supposed to leave. To lash out at you and say you’re too anxious, too worried. Thinking about the way those words have been said to you in the past makes you nauseous and your fingers rub at your stomach. 

Billy tracks the motion and sits back down on the coffee table like he had been before. You’re trying to wrap your head around this. 

You’d felt desired for a short time before Billy, and you’d felt special, having been treated like you were. But those features weren’t because of you and who you are, but because it guaranteed you’d be giving attention to someone else. Someone who fed off of that and needed it to feel satisfied. It was never because he really wanted you.

But now Billy does. 

“I’m sorry, Billy. I want to be able to accept that you’re doing all of these things because your intentions are pure and because you actually like me, it’s just that my mind—it can’t comprehend that just yet.”

Billy takes your face in his hands. They’re warm and calloused and big, and your eyes fill just from the feeling. 

“Don’t apologize to me. I understand where you’re comin’ from. But in all honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I bring you flowers and ask to take you out and buy you books and stay the night because I want you. I’ve never wanted to do any of that with someone before. I’m not doing it for my gain. But because you…you are worth all of that. I want to make you happy. You understand me?”

You blink, and Billy’s thumb swipes the tear away before it travels down your face. You start to nod.

“I understand. Can you just…” You lock eyes with him. “Be patient with me? I’m gonna have to learn how not to be afraid o-of this and I know it’ll be hard.”

Billy knows your emphasis on “this” means a potential relationship with him. One beyond the slightly-more-than-friends thing you’ve got going on now. If he’s honest with himself, the prospect of that scares the shit out of him too, because he’s never really done this officially either. He’s always been a hookup kind of guy. The few girlfriends he had never lasted long or had some lasting emotional connection. But he knows your life hasn’t been that way. You’re afraid for different reasons. Because you think he’ll slip away and that you’ll really be the version of yourself that you see on a daily basis. 

“Of course I can. I wouldn’t just give up on you because you’re kinda fucked up. That’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?”

The corners of Billy’s mouth twitch. You blink at him, winded at his attempt to make you laugh. 

He chuckles to himself, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture steals the breath from your lungs but makes you warm all over. You grab hold of his wrist where it still lingers near your face. Billy is drawing shapes on your shoulder. 

He relaxes his arm and lets you take his hand in your own. You drag your index finger along the lines crossing his palm in every direction.This is more entertaining than anything you’ve done in weeks. Your hand slides up against Billy’s until they’re lined up at the heels, and you push against him in an effort to convey that you want to raise them. 

Billy catches on. You’re trying to compare his hand to your own. He thinks it’s a silent way for you to communicate with him. Like your way of saying: I want this too. I care about you. You matter to me. 

His palm is so warm. Just like the rest of him. And his hand is much bigger than yours, enough so that you hold back a shiver. You want to be able to show Billy that you feel how he does. You want to be able to use those gestures as effortlessly as he does. 

So you lower your fingers until they fall between each of his. And then you’re holding hands. You give Billy a little grin, and he swears he could fucking melt. Seriously, the way you make him feel ought to be studied. 

To him, spending time with you, comforting you, talking to you about the hard things, learning who you are—it’s as easy as breathing. 

It’s like he was made for this. Everything up to this point has prepared him for you. He thinks that somehow, someway, he would’ve found you no matter the situation. You have always been it for him, even when he didn’t know it yet.

You take a deep breath.

I deserve this, you think. I deserve to be cherished and to hold hands. I deserve to let go and see this through.

“Maybe…maybe together we can learn to be a little less fucked up,” you finally say. “I could be easier that way.”

Billy squeezes your hand. “And maybe we’ll get more fucked up in our own special ways.”

That gets a quiet giggle out of you. Shit, he’s won the lottery. 

After a moment of peaceful silence, Billy leans forward, dipping his head down so he’s looking up into your eyes. His own are so very blue this close. With those little flecks of gold. 

“You deserve the world. I need you to know that. I don’t want anyone else. I want to learn you, inside and out. I want you with me. Is that okay with you?”

You look at him, at the way his curls frizz out by his ears, the way his freckles have faded because of the cold, the way his hand shakes when it leaves yours.

“That’s okay. More than okay.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[amomentsescape]

Can I request a Yandere Slashers with an S/O like Patrick Bateman (She is a rich narcissist, arrogant with others, always treating others as if they were inferior, but with the slashers she is sweeter, always showing affection for them)

Yandere! Slashers with Patrick Bateman-esque Reader

Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Some foul language

A/N: I love this request! Thank you, and I hope you like it! (No mentions of Reader pronouns in the fic itself)

Freddy Krueger

Honestly, Freddy finds it pretty funny (like most things)

He too is an asshole to pretty much anyone other than you

So together, you make quite the duo

He won't admit it, but there are times where you're honestly kind of scary

The way you can say the most traumatizing thing to someone without so much as blinking has him a little frazzled

Even he chuckles or shows some type of emotion

But when you're both alone, it becomes a different story

It's the only time he sees you smile and really relax

To think that you'd so much as hug someone is insane, but Freddy gets to see that side to you

It honestly just makes him trust you more

Knowing that he's the only one you're actually nice to puts his mind at ease

It's even gotten to the point where he feels comfortable letting you have some freedom during the day

He's still watching, of course, but he knows he has nothing to worry about

Michael Myers

He's probably the most similar to you out of everyone you've ever met

(It's why he became attached to you in the first place)

Seeing you say the most evil things to people without showing any emotion, and using your money just for yourself stirred something in him

And it still does

The connection was so immediate that he learned to trust you pretty quickly

He still likes to follow you whenever he gives you some "alone time"

But what originally started out as trust issues soon turned into entertainment

He likes seeing you move so confidently about your day and scaring all those around you

The way your presence alone silences a room is enchanting to him

And since he doesn't really like to go out much during the day, he gets to live vicariously through you

And when you come home with a smile and a quick kiss, it secretly melts him

You are perfect for him

Jason Voorhees

When he first got to you, his ability to trust you was hardly there

You seemed so cold and uncaring

It seemed impossible for you to return his feelings

But over time, he began to see you show more kindness and affection towards him

He was confused and just assumed that you were trying to gain his trust so you could leave him

But then he saw how you acted when he "wasn't" around

Whatever side he got to see of you wasn't the side you showed to everyone else

Because of this, you began to make him feel special

And his walls came crumbling down the as soon as they were put up

You spoil him, in his opinion

Lavish gifts, kisses, genuine laughs, and just overall attention has Jason melting in your hands

He honestly doesn't even care if it's just an act anymore

He's addicted to how special you make him feel

Plus, there's no way he's ever going to let you go anyways

Thomas Hewitt

It came as quite the shock when you were actually nice to him

He was enamored by you, clearly

But he saw the way to treated others as below you

It was a risk for him to take you as his in the first place

But when he noticed the little gleam in your eyes while looking at him, he knew he was locked in for good

He lets you initiate the affection most of the time, and he'll never say no to you

He even feels pretty comfortable letting you go into town and do what you want

He knows how you act around others, so there's no doubt in his mind that you wouldn't try to betray him

Plus, he loves the gifts you come home with after a day out

He's never owned anything nice before, so he truly feels like he's in heaven with you

You just can't ever act cold towards him

Even if he does something to anger you, you can't lash out

He will not hesitate to lock you in your shared room for the whole day if he sees it necessary

He likes your cold demeanor only when it's not directed at him

The moment it is, he will become immediately wounded

Bubba Sawyer

This poor man doesn't know any difference

You could step on his face and he'd be giggling

So he barely even notices your sour attitude with other people

He just thinks you're perfect no matter what you say or do

You can literally see hearts in his pupils when he looks at you

But thankfully, you actually enjoy your time with Bubba

The simplest touch or compliment given by you has Bubba kicking his feet and blushing

And when other people are around, you could call them the meanest name in the book, and he'd just be all smiley and giddy

He really is all around innocent

However, this sweetness only lasts for as long as you stay in the house with him

If you need to grab some things from the store or want to walk around by yourself for a bit, it comes with a price

He will beg, cry, and plead with you to stay

It doesn't matter how cold and uncaring you are with everyone else, he doesn't want you going anywhere

But if you insist, expect him to be pouty and silent around you for the rest of the day

But don't worry, by morning it's like it never even happened

Brahms Heelshire

Your calm and callous demeanor only fuels Brahms possessiveness

He loves how cruel you can be with others

And the money you have is fitting to him (having been raised a rich boy himself)

He'd prefer if you didn't interact with anyone at all, but he supposes your hatefulness makes up for that

Oh but when you come home with a big smile and arms outstretched for a hug, he becomes putty

He'll hold you for hours without so much as a motion to move

He loves that he's the only one that gets to see you like this

But just be careful

Brahms likes making up situations in his head

If he thinks you so much as blinked one too many times around someone, he will go berserk

He loves that you're cruel to everyone but him, but if he's having an off day, it's easy for him to see things that didn't actually happen

And once he has that thought in his head, it's hard to convince him otherwise

If he thinks you weren't being cold enough to someone, he will not hesitate to lock them in the house and place you right in front of them, making you do the dirty work

It doesn't faze you much thankfully, but it can become a bit annoying

Especially when your $800 shoes get blood on them

Norman Bates

Kindness is the number one policy in Mother's book

So he really isn't a fan on how you treat other people

Treating other's cruelly and not even attempting to share your wealth is all immoral in Norman's mind

He's tried having so many conversations to you about how you should be kinder

But his voice always falls on deaf ears

You'd think he'd be sick of it by now

But the main reason he can't give you up is because of how sweet you are towards him

You litter him with affection and sweet words

You gift him with just about everything he's ever wanted

He knows it's wrong, but he's addicted to how you make him feel

Could it all be an act on your part? Sure

But he barely cares, to be honest

He knows you'll be the death of him, but he truly can't imagine a better way to go out

Billy Loomis

He hates to admit it, but he finds it oh so sexy

You're quick with your words, and the slight raise of a brow is all it takes for someone to crumble to their knees around you

The control you have is awe-inspiring to him

And the fact that you become his little love bug at home only makes it more exciting

Seeing you go from rude and cruel one moment to sweet and kind the next keeps things interesting for Billy

He truly believes that most of humanity doesn't deserve the attention of people like you or him

You're both too good for them

With that being said, Billy's "body count" has gone up drastically since he claimed you

You're mean to someone? They deserve to die

You're a little too nice to a guy? He had it coming

Someone so much as bumps into you on the street? They'll be gone by the end of the night

He swears you're making him even crazier than before

But God, he loves it

Stu Macher

Look, Stu is all about hating other people

As lighthearted and goofy as he is, he really can't stand a lot of people

The amount of times he's murdered some stranger over and over again in his mind is outrageous

So he gets it

But at the same time, suspicion easily arises from people who see how outwardly cold you are

He's asked you time and time again to "lighten up," but it never changes anything

Which is why he's always so astounded by how you are when you both are alone

You laugh at all of his jokes, you plant his face full of kisses, and you even share his love for horror films

How you act with him is how he wishes you'd act in public

But at the same time, he kind of likes how two-sided you are

There's a part of him that loves being the only one who receives your kindness

It just makes it taste that much more sweet to him

And to be honest, if you ever did act nice to someone other than him, his whole mind would go dark

And you'd never hear from that person again

Vincent Sinclair

Contrary to what many people would assume, Vincent enjoys your callousness towards others

He hasn't come across many people during his life, but those he has met have always shown him nothing but disgust and hatred

Even his own brothers have ridiculed him and ordered him around like he was a slave (mostly Bo, but Lester has had his moments)

This only fueled a true hatred for most of humanity

It's a large part of the reason he set his sights on you in the first place

You stirred something in him, and he knew there was no going back from that feeling

But the way you acted around him was quite the surprise

You spoke so softly to him and touched him like you were a true angel on earth

You made him feel so special in a way that no one else had

There's no way he was ever going to let you go

It just feels so nice to have someone on his team for once

Your glare is so cold that even Bo doesn't want anything to do with you

Vincent has gotten his first taste of respect, and he only wants more

Bo Sinclair

He's always wanted his partner to have a little fire to them

But damn, you were a hell of a lot more than just a flame

He was drawn to you like a moth, and seeing how mesmerizing yet cruel you could be was like the total package to him

Anytime you told someone off, he'd just be standing back saying "that's my darlin' right there"

And at first, he didn't want to believe that you were being genuine when you cuddled up to him or gave him a passionate kiss on the lips

He thought is was all a game, and he was happy to play

But after some time being met with this affection, he soon became convinced that maybe you actually did return his infatuation

And that opened up a whole new world

He loves to take you to a night out in the next town over, showing you off

And between the money he's stolen off of visitors and the riches you have in tow, you both splurge on each other like crazy

This is quite literally a dream relationship

And with how manipulative you could be, the wax museum was booming more than ever

He'd be dead before he'd let you leave

Lester Sinclair

He finds your arrogance and cruelty a little unnecessary at times

But he doesn't ever push you too hard on it

As long as you're nice to him, that's all that matters

In fact, he lets you do what you want whenever you want it

You could walk all over him, and he'd still thank you for it

However, escaping him will never be an option

You're his, and your happiness is his number one priority

Just so long it involves being with him

But he grew to trust you pretty quickly

You're just so kind and loving towards him that he can't imagine you ever leaving him

It just doesn't make sense, right?

Even if you did try to leave, all you have to do is give him a big kiss, and he'd forgive you

Just don't talk to other people for too long

Even if you're saying the most hateful things to them, that attention alone is enough to make Lester insecure

If you want to spew anger at someone, he'll happily take it

Your attention is all he desires after all, good or bad

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Graduation challenge.

What's A Little Grand Theft Auto Between Friends?

Prompt: Graduation | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Nudity for Comedy, Smoking, Brief Mention of Underage Drinking | Tags: Post S2, Class of '85 Graduation Party at the Quarry, Randomly Teaming Up, And Then Having Fun Together, Steve Gets an Alternate Introduction to Eddie's Hot-Wiring Skills, Steve Ain't Body Shy, He Spent Too Many Years in Locker Rooms, Pre-Steddie

Coming tonight was a mistake, he's realized, because Steve isn't comfortable with this crowd, not anymore. 

Decision made: He's leaving.

He places his plastic cup down on the open tailgate of a truck he's passing by.

"Thanks for the trash, Harrington," comes the snapping snarl, and Steve stops. He hadn't realized there was anyone sitting in the back of the truck. But there's Munson, in all black, blending into the night. The only thing visible, the cherry on the end of his lit cigarette.

"Sorry, man," Steve says, leaning up against the side of the pickup, "I didn't want to just, you know, throw it on the ground."

"How noble," Munson says, dripping with sarcasm.

Steve's too tired for another snotty showdown. Graduation party at the quarry sounded neutral enough, but he was wrong. He's done dealing with everyone, and everything, from Hawkins High.

Except Henderson and the kids. But they haven't started HHS yet, so they totally don't count, and tonight he can hate everything about the place.

Including the crown prince of shitty attitudes, Eddie "The Freak" Munson. 

Steve takes the few steps back, grabs the cup, slings the beer that was mostly untouched into the grass. Holding up the empty cup to show Munson he's corrected this horrible offense. 

"That's more like it," Munson says, cigarette dangling from his lip.

"Well, that's my cue," Steve says, and keeps walking.

"Wait! Wait a second," Munson asks, no demands, and Steve has no idea why he even thinks about going back, let alone does it.

But he does.

Backpedaling the few steps until he can almost see Munson again.

"What?" Steve asks. 

"You leaving already?" Munson questions, and Steve just bobbles his head, because yeah, obviously.

"Can I get a ride back to town?" Munson asks, and Steve arches an eyebrow.

"Is this not your truck?" Steve asks.

"Nope," Munson answers, and Steve's hand flies up to toss the empty cup right at Munson's forehead.

Munson bats it away, laughing, as it clatters around noisily in the truck bed.

"You're a dickhead," Steve says, but then just wheels his arm around, silently telling Munson to hurry up if he's coming. Munson grins, wide and wolfish, hopping over the side with ease, landing on both feet with a resounding thud.

Then he holds out his arm in a sweeping after you gesture. Steve shakes his head and starts walking back to his car, hoping like hell he's not blocked in.

He is. 

"Well, shit."

"I got this," Munson says, trying the doors of both cars boxing them in, nearly touching bumper. Billy and Tommy, of fucking course. 

The Camaro is locked, but Tommy's isn't, and Munson slides into the driver's seat. Curious, Steve sinks into the passenger seat. 

Munson pulls out a multi-tool of some kind, and before Steve has a chance to realize exactly what he's doing, Munson has the cables pulled out from under the dash.

"Holy shit," Steve says, leaning closer, "where'd you learn to do that?"

"Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire. Now, I swore I wouldn't wind up like he did, but they wanna be dickheads? We'll all be dickheads. What's a little grand theft auto between friends?"

Friends. They aren't friends, and Steve's aware of that fact, acutely. But he'd be lying if it didn't feel kinda nice to hear from someone, even as a lie.

So, Steve grins, "Not a thing. Friend."

Eddie backs up Tommy's car, then pulls the wires, killing the engine. Afterwards, he stuffs everything back up under the dash. 

"Won't that-" Steve starts.

"Yup," Eddie answers, "gonna be deader than shit and he's gonna have no idea why."

"My man," Steve says, holding up his fist, and Eddie eyes him, but eventually bumps it back. "Thanks. This is hilarious, and he'll never suspect me. Like, I can't do that, and Tommy knows it."

"That's why it's good to have shady characters on your side, Harrington."

"Guess so," Steve agrees, and once they're back in Steve's car, Steve backs up, pulling away, easily.

Eddie digs his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, "Can I?"

"Only if you light me one," Steve answers, watching as Eddie slides the cigarette along his own bottom lip, into his mouth, puffing as he lights it, then reaches over to place it between Steve's parted lips.

Steve feels funny about it, in a way he doesn't exactly understand, just for a second, before shaking it off.

"So, why was King Steve bailing so early tonight?" Eddie asks.

"Eh, I don't know. Guess I realized I'd graduated and had no interest in seeing any of those assholes again."

"Well, I didn't graduate, but same."

"You didn't graduate?" 

"Nah, maybe the third time will be the charm," Eddie answers. "Going from King Steve, to running as fast as you can. I'm proud of you, big boy."

It's so unexpected, Steve's sure he looks stupid, before he busts out laughing, "Well, that's a new one."

"Really? Are the rumors not true? I'll be so disappointed," Eddie asks, looking dramatic, feet now resting on Steve's dashboard. Steve doesn't have the energy to tell him no.

"What rumors?"

"About your big dick, man. Girls talk. I listen."

What? That's. What?

"Well, I gotta piss, so you can take a gander for yourself, I guess," Steve banters, parking and hopping out of the car along the dirt road. 

He knows Eddie doesn't actually wanna look, but two can play this game.

So, Steve doesn't go to the trunk, to the cover of darkness. No, he heads right up front, illuminated by headlights, and takes his dick into his hand. Lays it on his palm, like he's presenting it.

He looks through the windshield, but can't really see Eddie's reaction. Bummer.

But, then Eddie's hand pops out of the passenger window, giving him a big thumbs up.

And Steve tosses his head back, laughing.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[annwrites]

fine, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous!

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & billy get lunch & he nearly commits assault. he then steals your icecream cone.

— tags: billy getting violently jealous, billy getting a boner, billy being possessive

— tw: eating, drinking, slut-shaming, sexual harassment

— word count: 2,840

— a/n: i'm not gonna lie, writing for billy is sm fun. he's such an asshole & it's hilarious to me

When you wake in the morning, it's with a muscled arm slung heavily over your waist, and something hard pressed into your backside.

So, he'd decided to join you under the convers at some point during the night, you think.

You turn, wishing to get him off of you, but jerk in surprise when you feel a patch of rough hair brush against the side of your thigh. He was not...

You shoot up in bed, his arm falling into your lap, and he doesn't even wake.

You very slowly pull back the comforter, and when you glance down you fill with rage. "Get up!"

Billy's eyes slowly open and a lazy smile forms on his lips. "Mornin', sunshine. You sleep good? I know I did."

You get out of bed, throwing the covers back, then immediately regret that decision, seeing someone—or, rather, something—also clearly 'awake'.

Billy doesn't so much as react. He just folds his hands behind his head, not even bothering to re-cover himself, knowing what God blessed him with.

You stare up at the ceiling. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

His eyes trail along your body, your messy hair. "I don't like sleeping in clothes. Get over it."

Your hands ball into fists at your sides. "You are such a dick."

He raises a brow, glancing down to his waist, shrugging, lightly nodding. "In a way, I guess you're rig-"

You quickly walk around to his side of the bed, grabbing his briefs, and throwing them in his face. "Get dressed."

He catches them, sighing. "You're so mean to me."

You grab your backpack, heading into the bathroom, firmly shutting the door behind you as you get ready for the day.

When you come back into the room, Billy's now dressed—thankfully. A pair of jeans, his boots, and a plaid button-up...which is fairly unbuttoned at the top, showing off his chest, and leather jacket on.

He looks up to you, chewing on a piece of cold pizza. "Breakfast?" He asks, holding the half-eaten piece out toward you, mouth full.

You grab your other bag, settling the strap on your shoulder. "No, I lost my appetite," you say, making your way toward the door.

Just as you reach up on tiptoes to unlock the chain at the top, you feel him pinch your ass under your dress.

You swing around, backpack nearly slamming into him, which you then slip off of your shoulders, throwing it on the floor.

He raises his hands, laughing.

You raise an open palm toward him, his hand quickly grabbing your wrist, catching it before it even comes close to his face. You raise the other one—same thing. He pushes you back against the wall, holding you firmly in-place by your wrists, a smirk on his lips as you squirm to get free.

He places his lips directly beside your ear, his body now pressed-up against your own. "You want to take your frustrations out on me, baby? I can think of lots of funner ways to do it." He pulls back, looking into your eyes, face now utterly serious, eyes hard, his hands squeezing your wrists a bit more firmly.

"Don't ever do that again," he says, suddenly releasing you and grabbing his bag, throwing the door open, leaving you standing there seething.

Once the two of you are checked out and back on the road, Billy seems to be in good spirits, despite your little tiff that morning...which you felt incredibly guilty about.

How could you have even thought of hitting him? Especially when you knew how much it hurt. And you knew that he did as well.

You reach forward, turning down AC/DC on the radio and turn toward him.

He looks at you with a curious expression. "You need somethin', baby?"

Always with the pet names...

"I'm sorry...for...for trying to slap you. I shouldn't have done that. You're right: it won't happen again."

He's silent for a moment, staring at the road ahead. Then, "Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Just trying to get you to lighten up a little, sugar. You know, you are allowed to have fun."

You shake your head. "Could you please stop with the pet names?'

He smirks. "Not likely, honey." Then, "So, about that having fun-"

You turn the radio back up, Highway to Hell blasting through the speakers.

A couple hours later, the two of you finally stop for lunch at a roadside stand that serves burgers, hotdogs, fries, and a few other items.

The two of you pay separately this time, you opting for cheese fries, and Billy a burger.

You sit at a picnic table with an umbrella overtop the both of you, and you watch as he opens his soda can, taking a sip.

You eat a couple fries, and feel a jean-clad leg brush against your own under the table.

You glance up to him from under your lashes, but he just continues eating.

And then you feel his boot knock against your ankle.

"Would you stop that?"

He looks up at you, swallowing. "Eating?"

You roll your eyes, lightly kicking him under the table.

"You want to play footsie, darlin'?"

You shake your head, ignoring his leg softly rubbing against your own. Every time you react, you're giving him exactly what he wants. He's just pissing you off to amuse himself.

A few moments later, his leg stills and you look up, seeing that his eyes are now trained elsewhere: on a pair of girls around your age perched atop a picnic table diagonal to where you sit, giggling and talking amongst themselves, glancing to him every few seconds. You turn back around to continue eating.

Billy shoots them a wink. "Hey, dolls," he calls flirtatiously.

You roll your eyes, but remain silent.

"Is that your car?" One asks, looking to his Camaro.

He grins—it always makes picking up chicks so much easier. "Sure is, sweetheart. You want me to take you for a spin?"

She goes quiet for a moment, you imagine she's debating it with her friend, then, "Can we both come?"

He stands. "Hell yeah you can, baby."

He doesn't bother looking down to you when he says quietly, "Be right back."

You watch as his car speeds out of the parking lot, hoping he comes back simply because all of your things are in his trunk.

Once you've finished eating, you stand to throw your trash away, until a soft breeze blows one of your napkins away. You groan.

You plop your paper bowl on top of the table and crouch down on hand and knees, reaching underneath the table to grab it. You go to stand, then hear someone catcall you from behind, and you slam the top of your head against the bottom of the table.

You reach up, placing your palm over the spot you were sure would have a bump forming on it soon enough.

You look behind you, and a group of three guys are watching you. Two of them standing, talking to each other, glancing to you every few seconds with smirks, the third seated on the hood of what you assume is his Mustang.

You turn around, throwing your trash away, then you seat yourself at the table again, leaning back against it, watching for Billy's car, now feeling uncomfortable.

The one on the hood slides off, making his way over to you.

You ignore him, glancing around, pretending not to notice, hoping it'll discourage him from trying to talk to you. You don't get so lucky, however.

He comes to stand in front of you, forcing you to look up at his towering form. He's older, but still handsome. Mid-twenties, maybe? Short, dark hair that's slicked back, a goatee, and dark eyes. He sports a plain blue t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. "Sorry about that. My friends...they, uh," he looks to them and smiles, then back to you. "Can be real assholes."

You smile nervously. "It's ok, no harm done."

He cocks his head to the side. "Your boyfriend do that?"

You reach up, hand hovering over the side of your face, then lower it back into your lap. "No. It's...a long story."

"I've got time," he replies with a kind smile.

You remain silent, not exactly interested in giving a stranger your life-story.

He nods. "I get it; you're shy. That's cute," he says with a chuckle.

He glances down to your bare legs, then back up to your eyes. "You're pretty."

You swallow nervously, blushing. "Thank you," you say quietly.

"Sweet too, apparently."

Your heart starts to pound from nerves. You then begin to worry about how long Billy is going to be gone. A few minutes? A couple hours?

Suddenly, he leans down, planting his palms atop the table behind you, boxing you in as he leans down, his face mere inches from your own. "You like fast cars, cutie?"

God, they really are all the same, aren't they?

You clasp your hands together to keep them from trembling from nerves. "Not really. They...they kind of scare me."

He smirks briefly. "What if I promise to take things slow, just for you?"

You know he is most certainly not talking about cars now.

Before you can reply, you hear the rumble of a familiar engine pulling back into the lot, and as you go to turn your head in the direction of the sound, he presses a kiss to your cheek, causing you to jerk your head back in his direction.

He laughs lightly. "Not exactly where I was aiming for." Then, "So, what's your name? Mine's Tyler."

You hear a door being loudly slammed.

"I-"

Suddenly, Tyler is being pulled away from you by the back of his shirt. Billy throws him on the pavement, the look on his face that of utter rage.

You glance to the Mustang, and see his two friends heading in your direction.

"Touch her again and I'll beat your fuckin' ass! You hear me, asshole?" He points down at him, his other hand in a tight fist.

Tyler goes to get up and Billy steps overtop of him, legs on either side of him. "Stay down, if you know what's fuckin' good for you."

"Hey!" You hear called from the parking lot and your eyes widen. His friends do not look happy.

You step over to Billy, gripping the leather of his jacket in your hands, pulling him toward you. "Billy, we have to go. Now."

He glares down at Tyler for just a moment longer, shoulders squared, rapidly rising and falling, jaw set, eyes hard, then steps away, grabbing your forearm, pulling you around to the passenger side. "Get in the fucking car," he orders, shoving you inside.

He quickly makes his way around the front of the car, turning the engine over and rapidly pulling away, leaving the three angry men in the rearview.

Billy swerves into traffic when he goes to merge, forcing the car in his lane to also swerve into the next one over, laying on their horn.

He just angrily switches gears, ignoring the now-angry driver, going faster.

You buckle yourself in, still shaking.

When you glance at him, he looks anything but pleased. Why was he so angry, anyway? Had the girls he'd given a quick ride to ticked him off? And thus made Tyler the target to take his anger out on?

"Did you not have fun, then?"

He looks at you with an irritated, but also confused look. "What?"

"With the girls from the food stand. Did they-"

He scoffs, shifting gears. "Are you fucking stupid, or something?"

Your hands ball into fists. "Excuse me?"

"Who even was that prick, huh? I leave you alone for five goddamn minutes and that's what I come back to? You letting him kiss you, and touch whatever-the-fuck-else while I wasn't there to-"

Angry tears sting your eyes. "I didn't let him touch anything! He came onto me! Maybe, if for once, you thought with the head on your shoulders, instead of the one in your pants, it wouldn't have happened in the first place!"

He picks up speed. "It's not my fuckin' job to babysit your ass. So, is that it, then? Huh? That you really are some easy slut who puts out for everyone except me?"

You're shaking you're so enraged now. "Fuck you! You-"

"Yeah, probably the only guy you haven't!" He throws at you with a mocking laugh.

He swerves into the next lane over as a poor excuse at merging.

"God, you are such an ass! What's your problem? I mean, how many girls have you slept with, anyway? I talk to one guy—one guy—and I'm a slut? Are you serious?"

He sneers. "None of your business how many I've had. Don't be such a fuckin' prude. Not like it meant anything, anyway. It's just sex. It doesn't mean shit."

"And that's exactly why I won't let you—any guy—so much as touch me: because that is what sex is to all of you. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll save myself for someone actually worthy of me."

He looks at you then, expression unreadable. "You're a fucking virgin?"

You clench your jaw.

He looks back to the road.

"Like you said: none of your business."

He leans back, dropping speeds, upshifting. "So you didn't let Harrington crawl up there after all, huh?"

You want to break something inside his car, but know for your own safety that you better not.

"Why? Are you jealous if I did?"

He looks at you. "Did he?" He asks, completely serious.

You shrug. "I don't know. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Sound awful jealous to me."

He downshifts again, anger climbing, along with the speedometer. "Answer the fuckin' question."

You stare out your open window, hair whipping around you.

"Fine, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous! That what you wanted to hear? Huh? So, did you-"

"No, we didn't even hold hands because it wasn't a date, Billy! I'm not even attracted to him in the first place. Halfway through Nancy showed up, and they talked for the rest of the evening, while I sat with a girlfriend of hers chatting."

He grows quiet for only a second before saying "fuck this" and turning the radio on, blaring Black Sabbath.

It's an hour later before either of you speak again, you breaking the silence. "I have to pee."

He rolls his eyes. "Why didn't you go back at the food stand? Oh, wait, nevermind. I know why. You were too busy-"

"Either you pull over soon or I'm going all over the seat."

He takes the next exit, and once he's parked outside of a McDonald's, you slam the door behind you.

"Fuckin' watch that shit!"

You ignore him as you go inside, in search of a restroom.

Once finished, you sit there a few extra minutes, trying to calm yourself down. You consider going back out and trying to calmly explain to him that there are other ways of expressing emotions than through violence and unabashed anger, but you know exactly how such a conversation will go—it won't. He'll put a stop to it before you can even start.

So, you instead wash your hands, then go and get yourself an ice-cream cone.

When you come back out to the car, Billy has a pair of sunglasses on, head leaned back against the seat, Led Zeppelin now playing.

You get inside, buckling yourself in with one hand, then take a lick of your ice-cream that's in the other.

He turns his head in your direction. "What, nothing for your chauffeur?"

You look at him, licking your lips. "You have two feet and a heartbeat, go get one."

He watches you lick a few more times, vanilla sliding down your tongue.

He doesn't even try to hide it when he reaches down, adjusting himself.

You ignore it, licking again.

"Let me have some."

You look at him, considering, then hold it toward him.

And he bites half the thing off, swallowing.

"You-"

He then tosses the rest out the window, splattering against the pavement, rainbow sprinkles going everywhere.

"What'd you do that for?!" You yell.

He puts the car in reverse, backing out of his parking spot. "Don't need you making a mess in here, or distracting me while I'm driving."

"You just wasted thirty cents of my money!"

His hand circles the wheel, turning toward the exit of the parking lot. "More like fifteen once I was done with it." He looks at you again. "If you need somethin' else to lick, I know where you can put your tongue at, sweetheart."

"You're so disgusting."

He glances to you. "I think you like getting those perfect feathers ruffled."

He then revs the engine loud enough as he drives away that he doesn't catch the vulgar statement you throw his way.

He'd like to think you agreed with him.

[iluvapplesxh]

hii!! if ur comfortable can u do billie x f!reader who sh’s? like a comfort fic maybe. ive been getting alot of urges to sh after being clean for a long time and i kinda just need this rn

⧽⧽baby, don't cut⧼⧼

❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

✰ summary: The bliss, the lightness of every single gush of blood felt more and more freeing and you thought it would be for the best to finally make your mind shut off, but one person is always there, helping you, reminding you that you're not alone and that you're worth it. Worth living this life even if it's hard.

✯ warnings: self harm, blood, crying, angst, comfort, fluff, !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

✒ a/n: I legit teared up writing this...| also this is kind of rushed but I just didn't really know what to write. so sorry, anon!

A long, sickeningly satisfied sigh left you. Your back was against the wall, the cool surface palpable through your clothes against your skin. Your knees were pulled up against your chest, ankles pressed tightly against each other. Your arm was resting on top of your knees, the deep red substance seeping onto your pyjama pants, painting them that beautifully crimson colour.

The tears which were once streaming down your face now dried up, red puffy eyes tracing the harsh, deep lines on the soft flesh of the underside of your forearm, the stinging pain was dulling by each passing moment. 

The weight which was once pushing harshly against your chest, making it hard to breathe, now faded. Your heart calmed from its previous fast beating and you didn’t know if it was because of the way the blood was flowing down your arm, or because of that disgustingly amazing feeling, but your tears have stopped too a while ago.

It felt incredibly freeing, uplifting. Like the overwhelming feelings of the day have been washed away. All those thoughts that told you, you needed this. You had to do it. You deserved it. They were now quiet and your breaths weren’t as ragged, your lungs filling with air completely before it flowed out slowly.

Yeah, this was what you deserved. This was what you needed to feel okay….

But those thoughts fought a harsh battle every time your gaze wandered around your room and your eyes locked on the framed photo propped up on your nightstand. A photo of your amazing girlfriend. She was always so sweet. Asking if you were okay even after you’ve reassured her 10 times throughout the day. Now she was the one thing you didn’t  deserve. So why did she stay? Why, when all you do is push her away when your mind becomes too much and you feel like you can’t breathe without that sweet relief of the blade sliding across your already torn skin. It felt even more painful every time it glided over a fresher cut and that just made every breath intake that much clearer. 

Why?

And although you felt like there was absolutely no reason for her to be with you, you couldn’t bear the mere thought of her leaving you finally. The possible look on her face if she saw under your sleeves. It made you cry harder every time you thought about it at the wrong time and you didn’t want her to leave. You needed her. She was the only reason you didn’t press the blade down any harder, the reason you didn’t drown yourself in your medicine cabinet. She was the reason that you had rushed to the medical supplies in your bedroom when your blade hit that vein and then when the ambulance arrived you told them it was an accident. And when she asked about it you just told her the same. She was the reason you were alive.

But even if she was, you couldn’t just stop. No, you needed it like air in your lungs. 

With every hug from her, every squeeze she gave your hand when she’d hold it, every kiss of her soft lips on yours, life was breathed back into your soul until those damn thoughts. Your fucking head pushed it out time and time again and it made you sick.

You just wanted to love her.

You just wanted her to stay, to love you, to hold you when your ears rang and your eyes burned with tears. 

But you couldn’t anymore. Your lungs felt heavy again by the time you’d cleaned yourself up and then you started again, and again and again until you passed out for hours.

That also must be the reason for your blurry vision right now. Or for the sweat littering on your forehead as the back of your head leaned back against the wall. 

The love, the need to stay seemed to slip farther away just like the blade held in your other hand, falling against the floor with the quietest thud. But even though your knees soon stretched out, your arm falling to your side, you felt like you were floating. It felt like you were finally done with all of this. All these fucking problems and thoughts and you. 

And maybe it was due to the dull thumping of your heart in your ears, or your brain slipping in and out of consciousness that you didn’t hear the phone thrown on your bed ring. But it was, and the screen was flashing, lit up with a photo of Billie smiling at the camera. It rang over and over again but you didn’t hear it, not when your body went numb and your senses were duller than that first blade in your drawers under your clothes.

It was when you felt a soft, hurried touch on your cheek that you came back to your senses once more, eyes still slightly blurry and you could feel the stinging of your unwashed cuts on your arms. 

“Baby? Baby, look at me, please” 

Billie’s voice was soft but you could hear the strain in it, the slight crack in it when the nickname rolled off her tongue. You heard a sob rip through her chest and your vision cleared, eyes meeting hers.

“Oh thank God” Billie leaped forward, cupping your face with her trembling hands as she helped you sit up. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Help is on the way, okay? I’m here”  Tears clouded her own vision and her chest felt awfully tight.

You moved slightly, hand reaching out to her but she stopped you with a shake of her head. And for a brief moment her blue eyes snapped away from yours and raked over your body, the blood on your clothes, almost dried, but when her gaze fell onto your arm, another sob escaped her and she looked away, one of her hands leaving your cheeks to slap against her mouth.

Your throat felt tight with guilt, your heart feeling like it was being squeezed tightly as you watched the one tinge of hope in your life sob in front of you and when you finally muttered out some words, your voice was painfully hoarse.

“I’m-...I’m sorry, baby-..” Your eyes filled with tears and your head shook. “I didn’t–” You took in a deep, shaky breath as your own gaze averted from her tear stained face. “I tried to–...I’m sorry”

Billie quickly looked back at you and shook her head, turning your head to look back at her. “Sh, sh…I don’t need an explanation. I just…–” She swallowed around the lump in her throat, tears still rimming her eyes. “I don’t know how I didn’t fucking notice” Frustration laced her voice and she pulled back.

It obviously hurt her. 

When she had come over to you in worry after you didn’t answer her calls, she didn’t even think about this. And when she barged into your bedroom to see you lying against the floor by the wall, the deep red coating your shirt, it made her whole being freeze with harsh flashbacks. Her breathing had grown faster and she had muttered a string of ‘no’s as her feet brought her closer to you. She had fallen to her knees, one of her hands scrambling for her phone to call help as the other desperately used a paper tissue to dry up your gushing arm.

“Don’t move, baby.” Billie said, her voice quiet. “I’m here now.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips against your forehead while tears fell on her cheeks.

–

The two of you didn’t exchange any words when the ambulance arrived and took you away. Nor when you were lying on the hospital bed, being kept for the amount of blood that has left your body.

It made you angry and sad when she’d left, saying that she needed to collect herself. You knew she needed that. She shouldn’t have had to see you like that but fuck you didn’t want her to leave. God knows if she’ll come back. And your eyes filled with tears again as you were lying there, watching her leave that room with soft hiccups leaving her throat.

You hurt her. You made her leave just like you were afraid to do so and your chest felt tight, breathing becoming a problem. The doctors had come in quickly, calming your breathing with some kind of medicine and you wish it was Billie’s hand caressing your hair as your eyes closed and your body fell asleep. The deep green eyes of the nurse trying to calm you missed that warmth which hers held and even though deep down you knew that all of this didn’t mean she was leaving for good. But it felt so much like it.

–

About 24 hours later, you were let home, but she never came back. 

You were now sitting on the couch of your home, an emotionless expression on your face as your bandaged up arm rested on  your lap.Your head was a mess once more and your hands twitched the slightest bed, your eyes darting towards the door of your bedroom from time to time.

The sudden sound of your doorbell ringing was what snapped you out of the suffocating depths of your own mind and you mindlessly stood, walking towards the door and unlocking it before pulling it open. When the door was fully open, you didn’t have a chance to look up before your body was engulfed by a warmer one, arms wrapping around you tightly while your head was pulled against a shoulder and when you breathed in her familiar scent, your body relaxed. Your own arms circled her torso while you turned your head, burying your face into her shoulder with a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I left.” Billie whispered softly, leaning her cheek against your head.

“No-...I understand…” You mumbled onto her hoodie, palms spreading flat against her back.

Billie swallowed harshly and pulled back, guiding you back inside your home as the door closed behind her and she lifted a hand, placing her palm against your cheek. “Are you okay?” 

The question which you usually simply and swiftly answered with a ‘yes’ made you pause this time before you shook your head, throat tightening up. “N–...No” Your eyes welled with tears.

Billie’s heart clenched in her chest and she took a deep breath in, her thumb caressing your skin gently. “I know. I know, baby” She sighed and swallowed harshly again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice” Her other hand reached out, she placed it hesitantly on your bandaged arm. 

A soft gasp of air filled your lungs and your teeth dipped into the flesh of your bottom lip. “I thought you left…” You whispered, eyes wandering away from hers.

Billie’s eyes watered and she nodded. “I know, I’m sorry” She whispered back.

“I don’t want you to leave. Please” Your voice cracked brokenly as your eyes found hers again.

She took a step closer, her hand on your cheek going behind your head. Billie’s head shook rapidly. “I won’t,  won’t, baby. I promise. I’m here, I’m staying” She gently pulled you close to her, pressing her lips onto the top of your head. “I’m going to help you, okay? We’ll get through this together” She murmured against your hair before you pulled back and your eyes met. The softness in her blue seas made your mind ease up the smallest bit and then her soft lips slotted against yours tenderly. The kiss was full of emotions, sadness, anger, guilt. 

“I won’t let you hurt yourself again” She whispered against your lips, and her words were like another promise. A promise that everything is so wrong right now, but she’s here and she’s going to make everything good again. That it may seem like the darkness of your mind was going to consume you and you were gonna slip up, and maybe you were going to, but even then, she’ll help you go straight. She’ll be there when it feels like everything around you is slowly falling apart and she’ll whisper in your ear that it’s okay and she’s here. 

She saved your life again and again, with or without trying and she will continue to do so until you feel like you are ready to fully live again.

✒ a/n: hey, anon, I just really hope that you'll be able to hold on with the help of this and if not I want you to know that whatever or whoever you think is worth enough to give it up is not worth it and you'll get through it, even if it's not going to be easy.

[midnightsimpsstuff]

WILDLOWER

WILDFLOWER by Billie Eilish

Spencer Reid x reader

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort (promise), JJ's confession to Spencer, toxic friendship, mention of break ups, happy ending.

Summary: After JJ confesses to Spencer that she is in fact in love with him, he is stuck in a tight spot and doesn’t want the reader to find out because you never knew he liked JJ so he broke up with you with no explanation. Because you are friends with JJ you happened to go to her to cry about the breakup not knowing she’s at fault.

A/n: I found out what Wildflower by Billie Eilish was truly about and I fell in love with the idea so I wrote something with the plot, so enjoy! LOL. There might be a part two so look out for that.

Word Count: 2.3k

Comments, shares and rebloggs are appreciated! :))

Had to add the inspiration ;)

You were walking back home, and your heart was more than broken, you didn’t think anything could be worse than this. Everything was fine before Spencer had gone on that stupid case! You knew he was kidnapped during it, you knew he wouldn’t want to tell you what happened but to break up? That was too far.

You took some time of work, you couldn’t go on, not in this state, your friend JJ, who had even introduced you to Spencer was the only friend of yours that didn’t have work at that moment, she was given a leave for reasons she hadn’t told you.

That was what brought you to her couch watching rom-coms, taking tubs of ice creams at once you just finished crying your eyes out on her shoulder, when you told her about how Spencer just dumped you for absolutely no reason, you felt as she tensed up. You were no profiler but you knew that she knew why but you won’t push her to tell you, in case it was a touchy subject and she kicks you out of her house.

Meanwhile, JJ knew she had never felt more guilty in her life, not when she returned home and she had to hug her kids and sleep side by side with Will, not telling him about the case a she usually would, not when she imagined Spencer was at her side not Will, or her kids looked like Spencer or how much they loved Spencer, and she wished she had known Spencer loved her back then she knew everything would be different.

She didn’t think Spencer would break up with you, it was a life or death situation there was nothing she could do but tell him, she felt instantly better when the burden was off her shoulders, she didn’t one bit think about how it could affect him, how it could affect you.

She comforted you though, trying to take her mind away from how you would act when you find out what she said, what she did, how it was her fault, all her fault, how you didn’t deserve this. You were a perfect fit for Spencer. You let him talk without interruptions, you didn’t use him to make your work easier, you didn’t give him sneaky insults or once tell him to shut up, but she did and she didn’t deserve the kindness both of you showed her endlessly.

You had gone home around the time Will had come back from work, JJ’s face was stuck on a look of despair, she made you feel better sure but when you told her ‘Thank you so much, Jenny. You know exactly how to make me feel better, you’re an awesome person and friend. Good Night!’ she froze at the door as she closed it watching you drive away with your car.

It wasn’t fair on you, she felt like shit, Will had noticed her weird mood and tried to confront her about it but she lashed out at him and went straight to her room. Discarding the takeout that Will had gotten from her and their kids’ favourite store she couldn’t help but subconsciously think about Spencer bringing you home takeout from your favourite food store if not for her and her big mouth.

She should have never loved him in the first place, especially since she got you both together.

Spencer and JJ had returned back to work the two weeks after, everyone in the BAU saw the change in dynamic between both of them, and they noticed Spencer’s mood had ultimately dampened and his migraines weren’t the only reason.

Spencer had suffered the two weeks without you, it was just taking a break from each other, and he secretly hoped you would find out what JJ had said so you would understand that it wasn’t his fault.

Your heart would be crushed and his and your friendship would be crushed, because you would have asked him if he loves JJ back and he honestly doesn’t know. He loves her as a friend for sure but as more? He’s not sure.

He already knew he was going to go over to your place that evening and explain everything to you, he had a feeling you didn’t know if not you would have barged into here a long time ago. He knows you, you don’t know how to keep your anger in check you would have come to confront her right there right then.

He let out a soft sigh. It was lunch break now, he had already ordered the flowers you adored so much to your house. When you get back from work you would see them and when you change and get comfortable you would see him. Hopefully, you would take him back even though he knew that was unlikely he really hurt you.

As he was about to get to his seat, JJ stopped him and he couldn’t help the eye roll he did, he wasn’t on the best terms with her at the moment he was going to make up with her when he has completely made up with you.

“Spencer, I am so sorry about your breakup, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” JJ had started with not noticing how loud she had said it now everyone was listening to them but they didn’t make it obvious.

His eyebrows furrowed, not only because of her pitch but also how did she know? “How do you know, I never told anyone that-“ then it clicked. He never knew she had it in her to be this much of a bitch. But he didn’t want to jump into conclusions.

“She told you didn’t she? But did YOU tell her?” He didn’t care if anyone heard at this point he was pissed. Really? Confess your love to your friend’s boyfriend and comfort her about him.

“I am sorry about everything about everything but you know I couldn’t do that to her.” JJ looked down to the floor in shame, her eyes were watering but she knew she didn’t have the right to be crying at that moment. He couldn’t believe he thought he loved her.

He walked away from her, he looked angrier that before but that subsided when he realised he could go home. He had never done anything as fast in his life, he packed his bag, practically ran out then began driving straight to your house.

You had just arrived at home seeing a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers at your front your door you knew who it was from. You unconsciously smiled before your face dropped remembering the break up, you sighed before carrying it inside your house. Dropping it on your coffee table, you realised it had a note but you weren’t in the right frame of mind to read it yet.

You went to quickly shower, change into something by far more comfortable. Before plopping on your couch, deciding to read the note.

            Dear Y/N it was inconsiderate of me to break up with you without explaining first, I am coming over after work to explain everything to you. If you don’t want me to come over just text me. Love you, Spencer.

It wasn’t his handwriting, he must have sent it over, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Funny of him to think you still had his number.

As you began watching something on your TV, you heard your doorbell ring, you went to open it.

“Start talking bitch.”

You sat on the chair opposite Spencer, he had just finished explaining everything to you and your mouth was currently agape. You began backtracking you finally understood. That’s why her body kept going rigid.

She loved Spencer. She had a husband yet she loved Spencer. She had kids yet she loved Spencer. Spencer had a girlfriend yet she loved Spencer. Spencer’s girlfriend was someone she considered a best friend yet she loved Spencer. She was extremely beautiful, knew Spencer way longer than you and Spencer once liked her like seven years ago and now she was in love with him. Spencer is the godfather of her child and she loves him?!

You were no more shocked, the reality of the situation was dawning on you, softly laughing to yourself about everything. “You don’t love her back, right?” you didn’t know what you would do if he said he does but the moment the question came out of your mouth. Spencer shouted no so loud you flinched.

His face was now pink from embarrassment, “No, I don’t, not anymore, not again it’s just you I love and want to love.” He said meeting your eyes with a smile.

His eyes began doing that drawing in puppy dog eye thing it usually did when he wanted to get something he wanted, you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it sure felt like he did because how could you not take him back when he is doing his face that way.

You walked over to him, your face was neutral, and he didn’t know what you were going to do. When you stood beside him you held his face, caressing his skin as he looked up at you his eyes still doing the thing. You slapped him really hard, “That’s for hurting my heart for the past two weeks.” Then you crouched down to him giving him a passionate kiss. “That’s because you went out of your way to explain and apologize and because I love you.

His face still hurt but he was sincerely happier now he had you back. You went away to get your phone to send a quick message to JJ.

‘We need to talk, come over tomorrow.” you sent her. You gave your phone to Spencer so he could see the message. His face visibly tensed, “Are you ending your friendship with her?” he asked. He’d feel pretty bad, you two have always been so close.

“No, we just need to talk some things through. Don’t worry my love” you said as you took a seat in his lap and as he drew circles on your thigh.

“Should I end my friendship with her?” Spencer asked shyly, he felt like you would say no but he did really value JJ as a friend so it might hurt a bit.

“Do you want to?” you asked him, you were just playing with him finding it funny as his face began changing from thoughtful to fear. He felt like it was a trick.

He feebly nodded, you smiled “Then no, Spencer. That won’t be fair on you. You two have been friends longer than I knew you” you told him while looking at him with love.

Everything was better and looking up for you.

But with JJ she felt her heart leap out of her chest as she read your message, she just read it again and again and again. The face of Spencer’s fury and your sad face was in her head she didn’t know what to do she didn’t want to lose any of you but she knew what was coming.

She just came between a good relationship because of her stupid feelings. She would have cried even more if she wasn’t tired of crying.

After getting the message from you she got enough courage to tell Will about everything. He reacted better than she thought he would have, although he was mad. When she had assured him she doesn’t love him anymore and only loved Will. He wasn’t so mad anymore but he asked for a bit of space because the way she had been neglecting him throughout the weeks she was at home and he said it’s best she knows what it felt like a bit.

JJ without fail had come to your home the next day, immediately after work. Texting Will about where she would be. She didn’t get a response though he left her on read, but she understood she had hurt many people and it was beginning to come on her.

You opened the door smiling at her. JJ wanted to cry, why were you smiling, did you not know, did you know and weren’t angry, she doesn’t know whether you and Spencer got back together. But she knew she couldn’t take it any longer.

“Y/N, I have something to tell you…” she stated while motioning her head inside as if asking if she could come in. You moved away so she could seat in on your couch.

You already knew and you felt touched she wanted to come clean. You looked at her expectantly waiting for her to speak.

“I confessed my love to Spencer on our last case, I think that’s why you two broke up.” She was fiddling with her ring.

“I already apologized to him, and to Will and I felt it’s time to apologize to you, I don’t want to lose any of you. I am so sorry I got you two together, I am sorry I pulled you both apart, I am sorry you trusted me enough to cry to me about what happened. I don’t deserve you.”

When she finally looked up at you, she realised you didn’t look angry. “Spencer told me.” You said. She felt something in her stomach drop. “You knew the whole time?” she asked, now she felt this was a plan for you to become the next unsub.

But instead your eyes widened, “No, he told me yesterday. Relax.” You said rubbing her back.

“I forgive you don’t worry. I want my friend back. You two hugged and she held unto you tighter than she had ever done before. Spencer watched you two from the kitchen.

This is how it’s meant to be.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four Five

What the fuck are you even so happy about? You fucked it up. Jesus you both fucked it up. I didn’t even know something like that could happen.

Eddie smiles at his bedroom ceiling in the dim light, “it was amazing.”

You hugged. Congratulations, you hugged a boy. Eddie can feel Billy roll his eyes.

“You don’t get it.”

There’s nothing to get, because nothing actually happened. Because somehow you both fucked up something as simple as kissing.

Eddie laughs, “you mad Billy? Mad you didn’t get to make out with Harrington?”

Fuck off. I don’t give a shit.

“Uh hu,” Billy is finally quiet. He leaves Eddie alone, lets him grin up at the clean ceiling from his clean new bed, in the room Steve set up for him. Filled with the things Steve went out of his way to save from the old trailer. There’s no beeping here, no hospital smells, he’s warm and comfortable and he’s full of Steve’s casserole and mashed potatoes.

The scent of Steve’s aftershave lingering in his nose, on his cheek.

They were going to kiss, Eddie’s pretty sure they were. They were both so close, heads tilted and eyes wide, but someone twitched wrong, something happened, both of them simultaneously sublimating whatever it was they were doing into a hug instead. Steve’s arms wrapped carefully around Eddie’s middle, conscious of the still healing wounds, his face tucked carefully against Eddie’s neck, ‘never done anything with a guy before.’ The whispered confession from Steve Harrington, the soft lips and sharp stubble against Eddie’s neck.

A confession that means he was going to do something with a guy. Or at least was interested in doing something with a guy, and that guy was, presumably, Eddie.

An incredible turn of events, really.

‘Never done anything with anyone,’ Eddie had whispered back, earning himself a snort of a laugh. God natured though. Happy.

‘We can go slow.’

And Steve had left with a big sappy smile and a dorky little finger tip wave and a promise they would hang out tomorrow.

Eddie sighs. Then grabs a pillow so he can scream into it. And then he’s kind of just grinning, laughing a little, he’s just so fucking happy.

Jesus christ, you fuck ups are actually made for each other.

“I hope so.”

What is this we’re doing now.

Eddie ignores him, sets up his DM shield, his books, his dice. Unpacks his pencils, his notes. Eddie always plays it fast and loose, he’s got a vague plan sure. As long as he knows the plan and the motivations of the bad guys, everything else falls into place pretty easily.

So this is the nerd thing you’ve been planning for.

He wants this one to be good; first game with Will the Wise present, after all. Steve’s in the kitchen, left Eddie to set up the finishing touches. They’re going to hang out and watch a movie once all the kids have gone, and Eddie’s pretty sure he couldn’t have planned a more perfect day if he tried. Steve’s even making them snacks. He’s done something to the dining room table to make it even bigger, unfolding some extra hidden bit of wood to make it longer; wild rich people shit.

The bell tolls; the kids are at the door, and Eddie can’t suppress his joy at having all the kids here together, everyone alive and well. Well, except for Max, which is shitty, but all the kids are going to go and visit her after this, so that’ll be nice for her.

He wants to prance to the front door, leap and skip and play he’s so buzzing with excitement for this, but one single hop is enough for his body to remind him, pretty sharply, that he is absolutely not ready for that sort of nonsense just yet, so he walks instead.

Jesus christ, this kid is a straight up savage.

Lady Applejack stares Eddie down over his DM shield.

Could have done with her against the Mindflayer.

“I’m going to attack.”

Of course she is.

Eddie claps joyously, “everyone roll for initiative.”

Eddie’s standing now, can’t possibly just sit with all this going on, “and that is a hit, his mighty war hammer crashing into your armor with a resounding smack, for one D10 of damage…”

“Dustin,” Mike hisses, “how much health do you even have?”

Dustin shakes his head, worried, but doesn’t answer. Lucas is hanging onto Dustin's shoulder, looking down at Dustin’s character sheet. Eddie’s dice clatters on the table behind the DM shield, Lucas signals ‘five’ to will with his fingers.

The whole table collectively holds it’s breath as Eddie watches his die roll and settle on a nine. “It’s a glancing blow! Your armor must absorb some of the hit as you take four points of damage!”

Eddie, no, don’t lie. Kill the little shit-you're too soft on them.

Will immediately starts on his turn, so excited, “I cast Cure Light Wounds!”

Of course he does.

Why is this taking them so long?

The most simplistic puzzles are the best.

Literally all the have to do is match the colors. I can’t believe how dumb they are.

Eddie does his best to hold in the snort. Doesn’t quite succeed and earns a scathing look from Erica. Yep. They are over thinking it a little.

This is so frustrating, how can you even sit through this.

Watching them struggle is the fun. They’ll get it in a minute.

We’re going to grow old and die here.

They sit and listen to the kids argue a little longer, coming up with wilder and wilder theories on how to solve what is the simplest color match game Eddie could come up with.

Baldie is staring at us.

Don’t call her that, Eddie’s reply is reflexive, but Billy is right. El is watching them.

Eddie isn’t surprised when she lingers. Deliberately makes it so that she’s the last standing on the porch. The boys shot off on their bikes, but El, Mike and the ferocious Lady Applejack are hitching a ride with Nancy.

She waves to him through the wind shield, then turns, talking to Mike.

“Do you talk to him?”

No preamble. Just those big fucking eyes looking up at Eddie. Knowing. A little kid should not look like that.

“Yeah, all the time.” In his mind, Billy is still and quiet. Watching warily.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s still a massive dick, so, I guess so, yeah.”

“Does Max know?”

She cuts right to the heart of it, this kid, “she’s the only one who knows.”

She nods, “for now,” and then leaves, running to get in the car without a care in the world.

She’s terrifying.

I know, fucking great isn’t it?

Part seven