#bill skarsgard fiction

[lihikainanea]

I know you have had a little writers block and not much time to write but in case this can inspire more tiger and Bill hear goes. So Bill is working on a movie that is a mess. He took the job because because he really loved the director, but lets so with rewrites and other politics that director quit. Bill was still in a contracted he could not easily get out out and he did not want to quit something he had already put work into.

Filming finally started back up with a new script and he was doing his best to make his character believable. But his neppo-baby co-star was not helping. Of course he was also considered a neppo-baby by the US press but he did not think he was not a brat like this woman. She wanted to change things in the script. She wanted special foods and no one could talk to her unless she was officially on set. He could not even get her to go over lines or how he could respectfully touch her during scenes since they were playing a couple.

He of course talked though things with Tiger as much as he thought he could but this was a very tough shoot. He would come home late and only get about 6 hours before having to be back on set.

His mind is wheeling one night when he has to do a love scene with this awful girl the next day. Tiger calms him enough for him to fall asleep. His brain has other ideas to fix the thoughts he has about the next day. He dreams of actually having an affair with awful girl. And the sex is just....he wakes in cold sweat. He was moaning in his sleep and he can not even look at Tiger. And boy does he not want to go to work that day either.

Ohhhhh I like this.

Look, I mean, with how many films actors do--every once in awhile, they must work with fellow castmates that they just hate. Abhor. Their hatred is so thinly veiled that it's incredibly palpable to the crew onset, but thankfully things rarely ever make it to the press because of NDAs and big ass scary lawyers and the like. But every once in awhile--we, the ever little-seeing public--we get wind of it. Think Don't Worry Darling. The drama surrounding that production, for the so many reasons it seems to entail, was just--unf, chef kiss to those of us that still love the thrill of a little celebrity drama.

And I'm sure Bill, in all of his perfectionist nature, was also hated on a few sets. His perfectionist nature. His insistence on trying the scene 100 different ways, for 100 different takes, until he was satisfied. Not everyone performs to that calibre nor do they hold themselves accountable to such lofty expectations as that big swedish talking tree, but that's just who he is. That's how he works.

But y'know, I'd even venture to say that it's quite rare that Bill actually likes his castmates and fellows actors he works with. That's not to say that he hates their guts--not at all. But rather he's just pretty...ambivalent about the whole thing. Neutral. He's the Switzerland of film sets. He's a pretty private person in general, a pretty guarded individual, and for him this is a job. Onscreen chemistry is far more important than actual chemistry in this line of work, and he's able to separate the two. He can have great onscreen chemistry with someone that he's not super friendly with, and he doesn't feel any inclination to add the to the inner workings of his closest social circle. Beers after a long day on set is one thing, the occasional celebratory dinner, gifts for the make up and costume crew. Getting to know everyone on a first name basis. But beyond that, Bill is more than happy to go back to his trailer between takes, or go back to his apartment at the end of the day, and cook dinner with tiger or have drinks with some of his friends who flew out to spend a few days with him.

And on that note, he's probably had to work with a lot of actors that he really doesn't like. People who either take themselves way too seriously (Bill thinks method acting is the most ridiculous fucking thing anyone could ever do), or the opposite--people who don't take this seriously at all. And if you call Bill a nepo baby to his face you'll likely be tackled violently from stage left by tiger--but it's also why he's ultra sensitive about those nepo baby actors who don't have any talent, and don't even have the work ethic to build it up.

It's still like pulling teeth to get Bill to admit that his laast name opened up a few doors for him, but he'll also be the first to admit that his initial acting jobs weren't....uh, they weren't great. But he worked at it, he honed his craft, he worked his ass off, and now nobody can say the opportunities he's gotten have been handed to him.

But y'know, the thought of nepotism--well, it doesn't really bother some people.

And maybe on a recent film set, Bill is living in his version of hell. His love interest in the film is a girl in her young to mid-twenties, the type who grew up with two famous parents and all of a sudden decided she wanted to act--so roles were handed to her. Bill's not quite sure how she even got the job given how their chemistry read went, with Bill nearly glaring daggers at her the whole time. She's just the type of person he can't stand. She's loud about everything. She comes with an entourage to everything. It's always over the top, all the time. She never learns her lines. She doesn't give him anything to work with in a scene, reciting her lines like a robot and not leaving anything to improv, natural reactions. She needs a million takes for one scene--not because she's a perfectionist--but because she forgot her lines, or didn't listen to the notes the director gave her. Bill is pretty convinced this entire film could have shot in half the time if she'd just be a little bit of a fucking professional about it.

The whole thing irks him at first, then just pisses him right the hell off shortly after. She's late for the call time, when the other actors are sitting in the transport car well before the ass crack of dawn waiting for her to come out her house. She comes into the makeup trailer blasting her music and yelling along with her entourage, while Bill is reviewing his scene changes and trying to get his head into his character for the day--they knock over his coffee, get in everyone's way, and just never shut the fuck up. Her friends--and her--are all filming all the time, and Bill spends most of his time between takes trying to dodge ending up on someone's instagram or tiktok.

But y'know, it's just so pitifully ironic that the only scene this girl is keen to rehearse--a little too keen, actually--are any of the kissing scenes, or the sex scenes. And with one scheduled in just a few days time, this little nepo baby has been all over Bill trying to find proper times--evenings, of course, with a little wine to loosen up--for them to uh, practice. Bill's gag reflex has been barely contained.

And like, tiger bears the brunt of his rants at the end of every filming day. Whether it's 2AM or 2AM or anywhere in between, he always FaceTimes her when he wraps the day and tiger always thinks that vein in his neck is real damn close to bursting.

"She just...she doesn't get it tiger," he rants, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette, "This is a fucking joke to her. This is my job, my profession, and it's a fucking joke to her."

"Has anyone told her?" she asks, "Maybe she needs to be called out on it."

"Her dad's studio is partially funding this one," Bill exhales, the camera shaking as he continues to walk.

"You're fucked then," tiger smiles sadly. Bill just makes a frustrated noise before continuing to rant for the next hour.

And like, maybe tiger goes to visit him on set right? And she's not it before, the whole rehearsing an upcoming steamy scene with him--but wait wait, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

So, tiger visits him on set and sees firsthand what a fucking nightmare this girl is. Tiger spends most of her time in his trailer but somehow, she still has to dodge what feels like a million cameras all linked to a hundred different kinds of social media, all from her entourage. They ain't shy about questions that are none of their damn business either--shit like who she is, how she knows Bill, what she's doing there.

"I'm his bodyguard," she cracks, except tiger is kind of scary when she's pissed off and she's not really blinking so suddenly the gaggle of girls don't really know what to think.

In any case, tiger can definitely see why Bill has been so pissed off lately. Everything is a joke to this girl, she doesn't take anything seriously, and suddenly she's just real excited about the scenes coming up in a few days.

"We should practice tonight!" she says gleefully, as both her and Bill are sitting in the makeup trailer getting all un-done after the day. Tiger quirks a brow from the back of the room where she's playing with one of the other actor's dogs.

"No thanks," Bill says immediately.

"You can come by, I'll get some wine, we can loosen up."

"No," he says again.

"We need to rehearse," she continues, "We need to practice."

"I've had enough practice."

And thankfully one of the make up artists--tiger makes a note to give her a big hug after--one of the make up artists sees every single hair on Bill's neck stand up.

"Bill, sorry--can you stop talking? It's getting the make up caught in the creases and making it hard to remove," she says kindly. Bill gives her a wide smile.

"Sure, sorry," he says softly.

And that's the end of that.

But like, look. It's plain as day. Bill is chainsmoking. He didn't sleep that night, he just rants and rants at how repulsed he is, and how much he's dreading the next 1.5 weeks worth of scenes. Tiger does her best to distract him--keeps his whisky glass full, hell she even gets him in the sauna and sucks his soul out from his dick just to try and get his mind off it. But the sun rises the next morning as much as we sometimes wish it wouldn't, and Bill has to go to work.

I'll be waiting for you in your trailer bud," tiger says reassuringly, "Remember, you can take as many breaks as you need."

But y'know, here's the thing. Bill is getting through it, because he's a goddamned professional. Is he having fun? No. Does he hate every second of it? Yes. But it's not that. It doesn't take him long to figure out that this girl...she's purposely fucking up the scenes, just so they have to do them again. And again. And again. The scene where he has to push her up again a wall, rip her shirt open, and kiss the hell out of her? Somehow, that scene took the entire day to shoot. 57 takes.

The actual sex scene, him on top of her, both of them wearing nothing but tiny little pasties? Somehow, that took two entire days to shoot. More than 100 takes.

On any set that Bill has been on, things like that could usually be shot in anywhere from 4-6 takes--maybe half a day, depending on lighting and equipment needs.

Bill was livid. He drew the line initially and demanded a closed set, after she brought her entire entourage to watch that day. It took a lot of negotiating, but Bill wasn't budging on it.

And every single day that Bill went to set and have to film that, when he'd get home--man, he took it out on tiger. The poor girl was ravaged. Bill just needed her, needed to completely wreck her, just to get the taste and feel and everything of that other pain in the ass as far away from him as possible.

But y'know, Bill's mind is a cruel place.

And maybe its triggered by something small. He has a long day on set so tiger goes shopping, and when he comes back to his rented apartment she has some stuff strewn everywhere and Bill spots a shirt on the bed. His blood boils.

"What the fuck is this?" he marches over to it, holding it up.

"It's....my new shirt?" tiger says cautiously, "I thought it was cute."

"Get rid of it tiger," he snaps. He grabs his lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and holding it to the shirt.

"Okay whoa," tiger jumps, grabbing the shirt from him, "Easy bud. What's going on."

"She has this shirt," he seethes, "I don't ever want to see it on you."

"Ah," tiger says, "Right. You won't see it again bud."

"Promise?" he puts the lighter away.

"Promise.

But it's enough to just...kickstart some part of Bill's brain that should have stayed dormant. And that night, he drifts off to sleep with tiger in his arms and his thumb in her mouth--except he dreams of her. And it's ~spicy~. A stupid ass, unreasonable sex dream that felt really good. Amazing sex, actually, and from the noises he was making tiger wasn't sure if he was in pain or having the time of his life but the piece of plywood digging in to her back gave her a small inclination.

That is, until he woke up and all but shoved her away with enough force that she almost went tumbling off the bed.

"Bill!" she shrieked, but he was already scratching at his skin and lightly smacking his own face.

"No no no no no," he muttered, "No no no god fuck no."

"Bud?"

His eyes snap to hers and they're wild, pupils huge, his hair sticking up all over the place and his chest heaving.

"You," he says, out of breath, "Here. Now."

"What--"

"Now."

And tiger doesn't have time to do anything before two long arms wrap around her waist and haul her up with force, slamming her into his chest.

"Fuck me," he growls into her neck.

"What?" tiger's still trying to get her wits about her because a second ago she was asleep and comfy and now this wild ass enraged beast has his hands all over her and she can't quite keep up.

A hard spank lands on her ass and she squeals a little, but then he has his fist balled in her hair and his teeth biting at her neck.

"Fuck me," he growls again, "Fuck me into next fucking week."

"Bill, what the hell is going--"

But then suddenly she's in the air, and then she's pinned under his body as he looms--big and scary and totally wild--above her.

"Tiger, I just had a dream about her," he snaps, "And now you need to get it the fuck out of my head so that I never have to see it again. So I'm only going to ask you one more time."

He yanks her head back, licking up her neck before biting down hard on her earlobe. His other hand cups her harshly through her panties and she gasps.

"Fuck me," he growls.

Tiger is all too happy to oblige.

[texaschainsawmascara]

movies know exactly how I like my Skarsgårds

Boy Kills World / Infinity Pool

[humanrindswrites]

practice - ii

summary: as the days get closer and closer to a certain scene, y/n still isn't feeling as prepared as she could be

pairing: bill skarsgård x female reader

warnings: NSFW, mentions of masturbation (female), kissing, breastplay, dry humping, accidental orgasm (is that a thing? it is now), embarrassment, mild angst

word count: 2974 words

a/n: this part is a little later than i expected it to be, but i did say that i’m slow at writing smut. also i know that in real life there would be an intimacy coordinator to work through a scene, but this is fiction and therefore more exciting.

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

one | two | three | four | epilogue

Things had been going exceptionally well for Y/N. They were three weeks into the shoot, and any nerves she’d had about returning to a live-action film set after so long had been put at ease, thanks to the director and crew.

But most of all, thanks to Bill.

The two of them had become fast friends at the beginning of the shoot, but since that afternoon in Y/N’s trailer, they’d become just that little bit closer. In fact, they were almost joined at the hip; they ate all their meals together, spent downtime together, and even taught each other things that they could use in future performances - Y/N taught Bill voice techniques, and Bill taught her about stunts.

“I told you it would be love at first sight,” the director had teasingly said to Y/N after noticing how inseparable they were.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Y/N said, trying to hide the blush that had started to creep across her face.

“Uh-huh, just make sure to invite me to your wedding someday.”

Y/N had rolled her eyes at that, but she couldn’t deny that she was feeling a certain way about Bill. Small, friendly glances had turned into longing gazes so quickly that it felt like that was how they’d been looking at each other the whole time. 

What had surprised her the most was how comfortable he’d seemed to have gotten with her. When they’d first met, he was just as shy as she was, despite being used to being around new people all the time, and he kept some level of distance. But now he was fine with being closer to her, often brushing his fingers against hers while they read a script together, placing his hands on her shoulders or arms as he stood close behind her, or giving her hugs whenever they said goodnight.

No matter how much she tried to see him as just her co-star, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked at her when she talked, how he laughed at her stupid, dry jokes, and the way he said her name all made her want to melt. She couldn’t stop imagining his lips on hers, his arms around her, or his cock inside her. 

She wanted him so badly that it was clouding her thoughts and interrupting her sleep.

While she’d gotten comfortable with touching and being touched, and she constantly fantasised about him fucking her, she still didn’t feel completely ready for that scene, no matter how much she psyched herself up. She’d practised the motions alone in her room, with a toy in her cunt, her fingers on her clit, and Bill in her thoughts, but it wasn’t the same as having him there with her.

He’s going to see me naked was the only thought in her head, circling round and round until her mind became a vortex. 

He’s going to see me naked and hate what he sees and never want to touch me or have anything to do with me ever again. He could get any girl he wants, why would he want to be with a fucking loser like me?

There was only one way to deal with this problem: she needed some more practice with Bill.

Y/N couldn’t stop fidgeting as she stood on the steps to Bill’s trailer. She pulled at the cuffs of her hoodie and chewed the inside of her cheek as she bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to pluck up the courage to knock. Her heart pounded in her chest as each second passed, and she could hear the blood rushing to her face.

Come on, Y/N she told herself. You’ve known him for three weeks now, it’s not like he’s going to tell you to fuck off.

Her stomach turned when she thought about what she was about to ask him, but there was a scene at stake that she didn’t want to go badly, thanks to her inexperience.

She was just about to knock on the door when it opened, making her take a step back. Bill was just about to step out of the trailer when he saw Y/N.

“Oh, hey,” he said with a smile. “I was just about to go look for you.”

“Here I am,” Y/N said, trying her best to keep her nerves at bay. “Why were you going to look for me?”

“I know you’ve been a little nervous about the scene, and I wanted to know how you were feeling today.”

God, he’s so fucking sweet it hurts.

“I’m still not one hundred percent,” she said as she turned her eyes to her feet and pulled her sleeves over her hands. “Could we maybe... go over it?”

She felt stupid as soon as the words left her mouth, worrying that he was going to say no.

“Sure,” he said, bringing her attention back to him. “Come on in.”

Her legs felt heavy as she forced them to move up the steps and into the trailer. She forced herself to breathe normally as she took in her surroundings.

Although it was the same as hers, Bill’s trailer was a lot more organised: a couple of empty water bottles sat on the coffee table alongside his copy of the script and an open pack of cigarettes, but she couldn’t see a lot of mess. Her trailer, on the other hand, frequently looked like a bomb had exploded in it.

“So, what exactly did you want to go over?” he asked when he closed the door behind them.

“The, uh,” she started to say, but her tongue felt like it was thick in her mouth. “The love scene.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘sex’, suddenly prudish, opting for a word she’d heard be used by older actors in the past.

“Okay, what part of it do you need help with?”

She noticed a blush spread across his cheekbones. Surely he couldn’t be as embarrassed as she was?

“It’s the movements. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You just do whatever feels natural, like you would do in real life.” Y/N looked at him blankly. “You have had real sex before, right?”

She shook her head. “I would’ve thought that me telling you I’ve never had a boyfriend would have given that away,” she said, wanting to pull her hoodie over her head and sink into the floor.

“Oh shit, of course. Sorry, Y/N, I should have remembered.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like I go around telling people that I’m a virgin. It’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Hey, there’s nothing embarrassing about it,” he said as he took her hand in his and led her over to the sofa for them to sit next to each other. “You’re sharing your body with another person, it can be scary.”

“Can we talk about the scene now?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, right, the scene.” He picked up his script and flicked through to the scene in question.

Just looking at the directions made Y/N’s stomach turn; just kissing Bill was nerve-wracking enough, this was something completely different.

“Okay,” he said as he read through the script. “The beginning is easy enough. I’ll be on top, so you don’t need to do much.”

“And then? What about when I’m on top?”

She read through the directions again; not only did she need to writhe around on top of him, but she was about to have his hands on her breasts too. 

I picked the wrong day to wear my hair up, she thought as her face started to burn.

“We can work that out,” Bill said, placing his hand over hers to comfort her. “Do you trust me?”

She looked at their joined hands and thought about what was about to happen. Of course she trusted him. He made everything feel so easy, so natural. She’d worked with actors in the past who would have just left everything to chance and refused to rehearse with her, and here she was with someone who was willing to help her out. Who treated her as another human being and not just another step on the way to a paycheck.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, her voice small. “I trust you.”

“Good,” he said as he smiled softly at her, his eyes dilated slightly. “You’ll want to be sitting in my lap for this.”

Y/N gingerly let go of his hand and climbed onto his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs and her hands on his shoulders as she hovered over him. 

“Like this?” 

He placed his large palms on her hips, the feeling immediately travelling straight between her legs. She wanted nothing more than for him to slip his fingers lower and touch her clit over her thin yoga pants as it started to slowly throb.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?” She nodded. “That’s the kind of motion you’re going to do.”

Haltingly, she lifted herself onto her knees and lowered herself back down again, testing out the motion. She’d done it before with one of her toys inside her, but that was something she’d done completely alone while thinking about him. There was no way she was ever going to own up to that.

“Is this okay?” she asked as she continued the motion, unable to properly focus with how his hands were holding onto her.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. That way’s better for show, but you could try another way.”

He gripped her hips a little tighter and pulled her to sit on his thigh, her pussy dangerously close to where she wanted to be the most. 

“Just move your hips forwards and backwards,” he said, guiding her by pulling her towards him.

She mimicked his movements, her swollen clit dragging against his thigh with each pass of her hips. She could feel herself getting wetter and bit her lower lip to stifle a moan, her eyes drifting closed as she continued to grind against him.

“That’s good,” she heard Bill say, his voice suddenly closer to her ear. “Just keep doing that.”

She gasped when she felt his lips on her neck, laying gentle kisses along her jaw before he made his way to her mouth. His lips were so soft against hers, caressing them as she whined into his mouth. She ran her tongue against his lips, taking the lead and plunging it into his mouth when he let her.

Her body was starting to get hot, the thick hoodie no longer seeming like a suitable outfit. His hands slowly drifted up from her hips, no longer guiding her but skimming across her stomach to dip under the band of her bralette.

“Can I touch you here?” he rasped against her mouth, waiting for her to give him permission.

“Yes,” she breathed before breaking the kiss to pull her hoodie and top over her head in one go. She opened her eyes as she tossed it onto the sofa beside her, taking notice of how Bill looked at her as she straddled him.

When she’d picked out her underwear that morning, comfort had been her only priority, but now she was glad that she’d picked the bralette. The grey fabric didn’t show much of her breasts, but just enough cleavage for him to notice.

She watched as his eyes dilated and travelled down to her breasts before he dipped his head to kiss the base of her throat, his hands dipping under the cotton to hold her breasts.

“Don’t stop,” she whined as she threaded her fingers in his hair.

Her eyes fluttered closed when he started to kiss her neck again, his hands gently squeezing her breasts and his thumbs stroking her nipples, making them harder and harder with each caress.

A small moan escaped her lips as she rocked her hips faster, her throbbing clit starting to tingle and burn with pleasure. She wished so badly that his cock was inside her, that he was touching her for real.

Even though they were just rehearsing for a scene, it felt real enough to her.

She pulled his head back to kiss her lips again, a short moan of his own escaping his mouth when they made contact, their tongues tangling together as he continued to fondle her chest, keeping his touches gentle.

She tried so hard to keep her coming orgasm at bay, clenching her pussy tight and digging her nails into his shoulders as he continued to kiss her, but it was futile.

Her orgasm crashed through her like a wave, her hips stuttering against his thigh and her breath escaping her lungs in gasps as her cunt clenched around nothing and her essence gushed out of her, soaking her panties. Lights flashed behind her eyes with each clench, and she eagerly kissed him back as the endorphins flooded her body. Her body shook in pleasure as it subsided, leaving her only with the hope that he didn’t know it was real.

Thankfully, Bill was none the wiser.

“If you do it like that, you’ll have no problem,” he said against her lips as he took his hands out of her bralette.

Y/N stilled to catch her breath and tried to ignore how her clit continued to throb as she looked at him, taking in his soft smile and gentle gaze. She could have dived back in to kiss him again if something else hadn’t caught her attention.

What the fuck is that? Y/N wondered as she felt something damp between her legs. She dragged her eyes away from Bill’s face to where she sat in his lap, and they slowly widened in horror once she realised what it was.

Oh, fuck she thought. I just came. On him.

She should have been able to talk to him about the scene, about anything else, but instead, alarm bells were blaring in her head. She shuffled back slightly to see if there was any ‘evidence’ on his clothes but, thankfully, he was clean.

She couldn't say the same about herself, though.

Although she couldn't see, she knew that there was an obvious wet patch over the crotch of her yoga pants, and that was only going to get more noticeable if she didn't climb out of his lap soon.

“Are you okay?” he asked her as he moved his hands back to her waist. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to go,” she choked out, her voice small and strained, as she jolted out of his lap, pulled her top and hoodie back on, and scurried to the door.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake.” 

She was just about to pull the door open when she felt his hand circle her wrist. Her heart slowed down in her chest, but it was still fast enough for her to notice. 

“Hey,” he said softly, drawing her attention back to him. “Try to breathe, okay?”

She took a shaky breath and let it out slowly, trying to focus on his hand on hers as it slipped down to twine their fingers together. Her heart still hammered in her chest as she kept her eyes on the door, unable to look at any part of him.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly as he stroked her knuckles with his thumb. She shook her head, still refusing to look at him. “Was it me? Was it something I did?”

No, she thought. It was something I did.

She couldn’t tell him the whole truth, it was just way too embarrassing. He’d never want to have anything to do with her ever again, let alone work with her.

“I just panicked, that’s all,” she said, her voice small. 

Panicked because I just had the best orgasm of my life while grinding against you.

Gently, Bill tugged on her hand and pulled her into his chest, enveloping her in a warm embrace. She initially stiffened when her cheek bumped into him, but she let herself relax against him, her ear resting on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. The gentle beat soothed her frayed nerves, and she lifted her arms to wrap around him, trying to keep him as close to her as possible.

Her eyes drifted closed as she melted into his embrace, the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent filling her senses as he softly stroked her back. Even through the thick fabric of her hoodie, she could feel her skin tingle under his hands, and she wished he would just push his hands underneath like he’d done before.

“Feel better?” he asked her after an extended silence, his voice vibrating in her ear.

“A little,” she said, her voice still shaking. “Just first-time nerves, I guess.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before bending down to softly kiss the top of her head.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open.

He’d never called her anything like that before, just her name.

Conflicting emotions whirled around in her head. Of course she wanted him to be like this with her, who wouldn’t? But there was the film at stake, she didn’t want to let her feelings for him cloud her mind and affect her performance.

This isn’t right, she said to herself. You came in here looking for help and ended up starting something bigger.

“I should go,” Y/N said again, begrudgingly wrenching herself free from his grasp.

“Y/N, wait,” she heard him say as she threw the door open and rushed back down the steps to her trailer.

She could only deal with her feelings the only way she knew how.

There was no way she’d be able to be alone with Bill again.

tags: @unlimitedlust @malenoradgn

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

TWELVE

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

It was liberating to be with Keith in Paris. We could finally act like a couple, and the Frenchmen didn't even react twice at our age difference. We could just be. Maybe me and Ludwig had looked like the perfect couple, but Keith and I were the perfect couple. Everything he did made my cheeks warm and my heart jump like a fluffy bunny among daisy flowers. He played around with me like a kid, made out with me like a teenager, but also gave me romantic moments like the perfect gentleman. That he could afford to give me everything wasn't so bad either. When I told him I had missed the tour of Notre Dame, he fixed us a private one. When I was tired of all the taxi rides, he rented a motorcycle (why hadn't he told me he had a license? Just knowing he had a license made him sexier, and seeing him on it made my loins burn like in a 1970s erotic novel). When I admired a girl’s Chanel beret, he got me the same one. He himself seemed to have the same t-shirt, just in different colors, and a pair of sunglasses with a lightly scoffed corner. He didn't look rich, but he spent his money on me like he was. 

I wore a short yellow gingham-patterned dress our last Thursday in Paris and jumped out of our taxi with a giggle. Keith ran after me, giving my bum a light spank for trying to run away from him. My class stood by the entrance door to their hotel, and I had come to join them to go to Claude Monet’s gardens and hoped Keith could come with us, or at least buy himself a seat on the bus that would take us there. I felt how they all looked at us curiously. Keith had his hand on my waist while I stood in front of the professors and guide, asking them with a big smile if my boyfriend could come along on the bus and that he would pay for everything by himself. I said it with a big smile and turned to him with a giggle. He gave me a little smirk and then looked at the professors that looked up at him. 

“Boyfriend?” Asked the female professor. I had always thought of her as a woman in her early fifties but wondered now if she was younger and she could feel that Keith was around her own age. 

“Boyfriend. Keith Toshko,” said Keith and put his big hand out for her to shake. She shook it doubtfully and gave her male colleague a look. He was probably Keith's age. He had always joked with me, but I had always seen him as just a silly older man, until now when I realized he and Keith could have gone to school together. 

“Sure… It shouldn't be a problem,” he said while shaking Keith's hand. I giggled again and hugged Keith around his waist. I interrupted him in the middle of his thank you to say my own loud, girly thank you. 

I jumped around like a schoolgirl while we walked up to Farah. I didn't think about who was watching us or what others were thinking. I just thought about having Keith close and spending time with him in the French sun. 

“Hey,” said Farah, who gave us a little nod. She had gone to the hotel earlier to see some of our other friends that now stood by her side and looked curiously at Keith. 

“Hey!” I said brightly and took Keith's hand in mine. With the same bright smile on my lips, I introduced him to my friends. Their facial expressions were mixed, but most of them seemed amused by my behavior, especially when Keith and I talked softly to each other and I did that sweet girly voice he liked and looked at him with childish pouting lips every time he said something I didn't like. We were probably quite amusing to look at because others had also turned their heads to where we stood and more or less baby talked to each other. Our hands were on each other constantly, even when the professors talked, and for a moment I could see the male professor’s disapproving look. When he talked, I stood on my toes playing with the hair in the nap of Keith's neck while his long fingers played with my shiny locks. I had that little pout on my lips because he had told me to listen to the professor instead of just watching him. We were that annoying couple, but that sexy annoying couple. 

“You're so fucking extra…” teased Farah in the line to the bus. Keith walked a bit behind me, checking his phone so he wasn't a part of the conversation. 

“What?” I said with a giggle and fixed my white headband. 

“Do you do it to provoke?” She smirked at me and looked down at our feet while we walked slow steps to the bus door. 

“What do you mean?” I smiled as broad as before. I knew she was talking about me and Keith, and to be honest, I wanted to provoke people a little. Even if Keith looked really good for his age, he looked quite a bit older than me. It was fun to play around with and make people wonder where this boyfriend came from. 

“Ludwig stared his eyes out on you. He really likes you!” She whispered so no one else would hear. 

“Ludwig? Come on! We made out a couple of times; that's it!” I whispered back. We were finally by the door, and I could feel Keith's hand on my waist. It was obvious we would sit together, I took his hands so he could follow me and we could make that happen. It started well with him hitting his head on the bus roof and both of us giggling while he rubbed his head, a bit embarrassed. 

“Are you okay, Daddy?” I said in a hushed tone. The nickname had just slipped out, but Keith didn't seem to react to it; he just gave me a kiss and steered me to continue to walk. 

“Yes, my little bunny. It's okay…” he said low and deep at the same time I met Ludwig's eyes. He wouldn't have been able to have heard what I said, but it didn't seem like that mattered because he looked pissed anyway. I rolled my eyes, hoping he would see and let Keith steer me to a seat. I giggled again when I looked at how cramped he sat in the seat, but he just smirked and pulled me closer so he could kiss my forehead. 

“Daddy's little girl…” he whispered and let his hand massage my thigh, up under my short dress.

××× 

We walked together with the others under the guided tour and tried to behave the best we could. We were extra because I talked like a little girl the whole time while Keith messed around with me all the time to make me laugh. He bit my cheek loosely and dug his nose in behind my ear until it tickled. The others ignored us after a while, even Ludwig and his friends. When the guided tour was over, Keith left Farah and me to look around by ourselves while he sat down on a bench to look out over the pond. 

“I don't know what to think really… It's obvious you're in love and that he's here for you, but… I can't just start trusting him because of that. What if what your mom said is true?” Said Farah, lowly, while we walked side by side. I smiled a little to myself because Keith's honest words had calmed me down. They weren't perfect words where he denied and proved everything was untrue, but it was a believable version, a version unflattering enough to be true. 

“We talked about it, and, yeah, some of it is true.” 

“It is?” Farah gave me a worried look, but I gave her a calming smile. 

“He's older than us. He has been through things, and yeah, he's not perfect. And he's a dirty man.” 

My cheek blossomed up to a rose red color, but I smiled a bit secretly. 

“Jaqueline…” Farah sighed. “Don't let yourself get used. You shouldn't put up with his weird fetishes because he—” 

“I like it, Farah. I like all of it. I don't care if he likes younger women and being a daddy because…” I laid my hand over my cheeks and laughed, embarrassed. “I like it just as much.” 

I had thought a lot about what he had said and knew it didn't matter because I liked his dirty side. It was a lot, especially for a girl as inexperienced as me, but inexperienced didn't mean I couldn't like it, and I did. That he had watched a bit too much porn when he was in an unhappy marriage didn't feel like something weird at all. He was a man craving dirty sex, so why would he just accept a life of celibacy? 

Keith was a dirty man, but maybe I was just as much of a dirty girl behind my good girl persona. 

Farah had stopped at one of the bridges and looked out over the beautiful view. Among all the people, it was also easy to see Keith when he stood up. Even if he was so tall, he did look like the least threatening guy in the whole place. His demeanor was soft and kind, and he moved politely out of the way for people. I smiled and giggled just by seeing him like that. Farah looked at me, then at Keith, but didn't say anything. I looked at her and got a small smile back. I interpreted it like she gave us her blessing, and I gave her a brief side hug. 

“I really need people on our side. Everyone is so judgemental.” 

Farah nodded a little and looked towards Keith again, who stood and talked with an older lady. I could see from his expression he wasn't really comfortable, and I guessed the woman tried to speak French with him. 

“Okay, okay… But I don't think my blessing means much when your parents probably will kill him if he comes close to you.” 

I gave her a sad smile but took her hand. 

“It means everything. You're my best friend and because of that, also my family. I need you.” 

She smiled at me, but it was in the same sad way as I smiled, and then she hugged me hard, like a true friend should. 

××× 

The last days in Paris were beautiful, romantic, and cozy even if it rained some, but there was a bittersweet scent in that air wherever we walked. It was the final days we could openly act like a couple, and it was obvious it pained us both. We tried to use the time well with romantic dinners, walks, and cozy nights in the big hotel bed. We also had sex. A lot of it. Keith's honesty had also made him a bit more relaxed in what he liked, and instead of me guessing what lingerie he liked, how he wanted my hair, or how to act, he told me. I came to understand he didn't like lingerie that much; a cute pair of panties he could like, but otherwise there were things he liked better. He liked me in his clothes. He liked when I took the same t-shirt he had used that day and paired it with my French braids and no panties underneath. He liked when I walked around like that so he could peek at my bum and pussy while he did other things. He liked when I acted oblivious to how horny he was; he hoped I would never stop blushing by seeing his hard cock. He liked when I called him Daddy even if we weren't in the act. 

He asked me what I liked, and to my surprise, I knew what I liked. I liked him as comfortable as he could get. If I decided, he would dress in sweats every day and skip all hair products. I liked him soft and sweet but with that intense, sexy gaze always near. I liked when he jerked off in front of me without warning me. I liked it when he tried me and did something I wasn't expecting, by ourselves but also among people. 

It was our final night together in Paris, and I walked around in the hotel room, pulling the curtains even if there was a remote for it. Every time I did, his gray t-shirt I wore lifted and he could see my bare bottom. He sat with his laptop over his thighs, doing work he couldn't ignore, but he lifted his gaze a bit too often just to see me struggle. 

“Why don't you use the remote?” He asked and laid a hand over his crotch. 

“I can't find it, Daddy,” I said with a shoulder shrug and turned to him, playing with the t-shirt in my hands. 

“Let go of the shirt; you will stretch it out,” said he authoritatively, which made me blush. 

“I'm sorry…” I let the t-shirt go that still covered me because of its size. 

“Have you looked? I haven't even seen you try to find it.” He sighed and leaned back in the white armchair he sat in. 

“I did earlier! I did!” I protested, but Keith just sighed again and put the laptop on the coffee table in front of him. 

“I know how sloppy you are. Try again and stop disturbing Daddy.” 

Keith laid the laptop in his lap again. Even if it was a game, it could surprise me how real emotions could take over and settle in me, and in that moment I got really irritated at him, so instead of looking for the remote silently, I tried to be as loud as possible, even making annoyed, silly sounds while standing with my bum in the air. I didn't know if he was watching me, but I was almost sure of it. So while searching the bed, I stood on all fours with my bum towards him, leaning forward so much he could also see my pussy. I didn't get a reaction though, so I let my irritated sounds start to sound more like moans, small pathetic moans just to get his attention. 

“I can see it,” I could hear him say with annoyance, and I peeked behind me just to see what he was doing. 

“I can see the remote.” He sat leaning back in the chair with spread legs. The hand over his crotch had bundled up the dark gray thin sweats so I could see a thick line lay up against his hip, but his face was as collected as before.

“It's under the pillow,” he said and nodded towards the pillow that usually was mine. I looked at it and could see the remote lying there, thin and in sleek steel. I looked at it for a few seconds and a stupid idea took over. It felt like Keith would take a long time to really get my attention, and I didn't have his patience, so I took the remote, and instead of using it for the curtains, I placed it between my legs and slowly started to drag it between my folds. 

“No, no, no,” said Keith behind me, and just a few seconds after, I could feel the mattress dip and him crawling up to take the remote from me. He looked at me with big eyes and then down to the remote. After the shock had left his face, he smirked evilly at me, and I realized what I had done. It was the hotel's remote and definitely not something to masturbate with. 

“Are you so desperate for attention you will fuck yourself with a remote?” Keith mocked me and laid a heavy hand on my bum that still was in the air. I thought about changing position but knew Keith would react to that. I had chosen my degrading position myself; now I would stay like that. 

“Daddy…” I whined because I didn't know what else to say. Instead of getting comforting words back, he slapped my ass hard, so hard I almost fell from my position on my knees. He did it a few times more but then dragged his hands soothingly over the blossoming color he had created. 

“Fuck, honey, there can be all kinds of bacteria and shit on that shit.” 

He turned me around and looked at me seriously. 

“Time to scrub that pussy clean, dirty girl.” 

I didn't say anything because it was still embarrassing what I had done, and I continued to be silent while he pulled the t-shirt off of me and put me in the luxury bathtub. On his knees next to me, he started to wash my pussy softly. He hadn't done anything like that since the first time we had sex, but I spread my legs and let him drag his wet, curious fingers over me. I could feel my pulse creep down there, and I couldn't stop myself from moving against his hand a bit. 

“Never get such stupid ideas again, okay? You must take care of yourself. Take care of Daddy's pussy.” 

He smiled fatherly at me, and I smiled back even if I still felt ashamed. 

“Must I wash your sweet little ass too?” He mocked me with an evil gaze. I knew I hadn't dragged the remote that low but pretended differently and nodded like I was ashamed. Keith smirked knowingly but washed and lotioned every part of me up with long, skillful fingers. His longest finger sank down my asshole while he lotioned me up, but I didn't say anything; I just smiled a little while looking at him pulling on his cock in the inside of his sweats. Finished, I stood naked in front of him, and looked at him tenting his sweatpants. Looking up at him, my eyes asked for permission to touch him, and Keith answered by pulling off his t-shirt and then pushing down his sweatpants. His cock was so hard and already wet with its own pre-cum. His balls were tight like he was already close to coming. 

“Now, girly, lean forward so Daddy can punish you for your really filthy behavior.” 

I leaned up against the bassinet and lifted a leg up to make it easier with his height. He gave both my ass and pussy a spank, but then he pushed into me roughly and held my hips so hard I could feel bruises form under his fingers. 

××× 

I pretended to be that good girl again as soon as I was home, but I kept the joy. Even if Keith and I needed to be a secret again, I still had him in my life again, and that was enough of a reason to continue to have a big smile on my lips; it was also the best way to fool my mom that everything was okay, and she would let me be without lurking in my life. 

I tried to come up with a way for me and Keith to be a couple, to not need to keep hiding, and I suspected he did too because he could be a little distant when we met at his place during the night. I went into some sort of made-up safeness and forgot that still everything could be smashed into pieces again. 

“Dismissed? What, for having a boyfriend?” 

I sat in front of the sorority committee in our common room. We sat by the long table, but I was placed on one side alone while the other girls sat on the other side, looking at me with furrowed brows. 

“I'm sorry, Jaqueline, but your behavior breaks our rules. We have heard about your behavior on the Paris trip, and it goes against our statutes.” 

I looked at them one by one and then scoffed loudly. 

“I was just having fun with my boyfriend!” 

“Yes. But in a way that we don't tolerate,” said our leader as she crossed her arms. It was clear she started to get annoyed with me. I looked at them with big eyes. They looked at me like I was street trash someone had dragged in and put on their floor. In their eyes I was a whore now because I had an older boyfriend who I made out with in public. 

“I really think you should think about if this is what you want to be. I thought you wanted a good husband and a safe home. I also think you should think about your parents; this can be embarrassing for them.” 

I scoffed again and stood up annoyed. First I had been hurt that they dismissed me, but now I was just annoyed that preppy, virgin girls thought they had the right to look down at me. 

“Think about your father—”

“Oh, just shut up; you don't care about that! You don't care about what my parents feel or think!” 

I commented loudly and put my bag on my shoulder. I looked straight at the leader that looked back at me with fake pity. 

“Yes, yes we do. That's why we called your mother before you came here.” 

××× 

I looked at my ringing phone in my lap while the tears streamed down my face. Even if my mom had a pink heart behind her name, the text looked aggressive on the screen. Everything with my mom was a bit aggressive, and I would always be a bit scared of her. Sometimes it felt like others were too, but not Keith, not at all. 

We sat together in his car. He had met me up by the sorority, and he had driven us to the nearest place I could get a hot chocolate in the middle of May. Together with it in a takeaway cup, he had bought himself a flat white, and in the parking lot we drank our drinks while the weather started to look more and more like summer. I continued to cry, and my mom continued to call. 

“Shouldn't we just go there?” Keith sighed and looked at me with big, tired eyes. 

“And say what? She will tell your wife, and then it's over for the both of us!” I cried loudly and dried my cheeks of glittery blue eyeshadow with my fingers. 

“I don't think so, if I'm being honest. I don't think she will tell her.” 

“Of course she will! Not to be vulgar or anything, but my mom is a real B-word!” 

Keith smirked and looked at me amused. 

“Really? The B-word?” 

“Yes! She is!” I said without really registering that he was making fun of my prude way of talking. Keith took my hand in his and leaned close to me. He kissed my nose and made me calm down just by putting his own nose tip against mine. 

“Let me talk to her, babe… I think I could talk to her,” he whispered, and I looked at him with big eyes, fascinated by his confidence. I nodded because I knew I shouldn't talk back to him too much; he was my Daddy after all. 

While he drove to my parents house, he held my hand the whole way there. I breathed deeply, trying to stay calm. What calmed me down the most was looking at Keith; he was completely calm and looked like he didn't have a problem in the world. I smiled a little when he did because his confidence made me believe him—that he could speak to my mom and make her keep it a secret until his divorce was final. It was so close. Keith had a way with people, and maybe he even could calm my mom down. 

He parked just outside of the house, not caring to park it in the right place or hide it. He walked around to open my door and helped me out so my short skirt wouldn't slip up. He gave me a light peck and then one more on the back of my hand before we walked up the driveway to the house hand in hand. It was he that opened the door, and it was also he that called out a hello when we stood in the hallway. I gave him a worried look and then looked down at our hands that still were linked together. He looked at me, pulling down the corners of his mouth and shrugging his shoulders, believing no one was home, but soon my mom came around the corner with an icy stare. 

“Leave our house at once, or I will call the police!” She said aggressively, but I could hear her voice break in fear. Both Keith and I looked at her in shock; neither of us were prepared for her to stand with her phone against her chest, ready to call the authorities. 

“Can we just—” started Keith, but she raised her voice and shouted at him to leave. 

“Mom,” I said weakly. I didn't want them to fight because I loved both of them, and I knew Keith just wanted to talk in peace. 

“Go to your room!” 

I looked between her and Keith, but he didn't let my hand go. 

“Giselle,” he started again, but she just waved with her phone in a pointed way. I could see Keith getting annoyed because this was not how he wanted to solve things, so after a few seconds of her trying to wave me to my room and threatening him with the phone, he took a deep breath and said with masculine power: 

“Giselle, I just want to talk. Just the two of us. Now.” 

She looked at him in shock but swallowed hard and gave in. Instead of her leading him in her home, he was the one leading her to the dining room without giving me a look. It really felt like the grown-ups would talk while I should stay to play by myself.

I tried to keep myself busy by fixing my makeup and braiding my hair, but my mom's loud voice and the deep vibration of Keith's voice made me sometimes just sit and stare towards the dining room. I couldn't hear much, just that my mom was screaming that I was just a child and that he was an awful human being. I couldn't hear if they resolved anything, but after twenty minutes they came out to me in the living room. I stood up awkwardly, like they would give me an important message. Even if they didn't say it out loud, I got a message when Keith laid his arms around me and kissed my lips. It wasn't even that dry little peck we could do in public but the more intimate kind he often gave me as a hello. 

“I’ll wait in the car…” he whispered, and I looked at him with big, confused eyes. He dragged his hand over my waist and walked out without giving my mom a look, who stood just in front of us. When I looked at her, she stood with her cheek towards us, and I guessed she hadn't wanted to look at mine and Keith's intimacy. 

“Mom…” I said as weakly as before, still scared she would scream at me, but instead she just gave me a cold look. 

“I will ignore your relationship, but your father can't know a thing, okay? This is sick, Jaqueline. He's old enough to be your father. He's one of your father's oldest friends, but—” 

“I love him, Mom,” I whined, afraid she would take him away from me even if it had just sounded like she would accept it. 

She shook her head in disappointment but then dragged her hands over her face in anxiety. 

“You can never tell your father this. I just hope you will realize what a mistake you're making.” 

She gave me a sincere look, and I looked back at her insecurely. I didn't understand what she meant, and I couldn't really believe she would let me be with Keith. 

Mom looked out the window where Keith stood waiting against the hood of his car. I looked at him too; he was looking dreamy in a crisp white t-shirt and messy, slicked-back hair in the sun. 

“Go now; don't let him wait…” said my mom to me with a sigh and turned her back to me. I looked at her petite stature for a while before walking to her side and giving her a fast hug. 

“Thank you, Mom, thank you. I really do love him!” I said with a beating heart and took my little handbag from the floor. 

“I actually believe he loves you too… I just hope that will be enough…” 

She had turned her eyes away from me again, but I was too excited to really take in what she said. Instead I giggled to myself and ran out to my boyfriend, who smiled brightly when I came out the door. 

×

[peggyao3]

Tell me about your taste in ✨(fictional) men✨ in the reblogs and comments, I'll go first —

I like my men playing characters who are pale and sickly looking like Victorian children, with freaky sociopathic tendencies and a high chance of murder. Meanwhile, the actors are absolute sunshine looking, warm, golden boys with the biggest smiles in the universe.

I've also noticed that having a plush, pouty mouth, deep-set puppy eyes and a cute, straight nose drastically improves the score on the peggy-o-meter 🔥🥹

[morepreciousthanrubiess]

ultimate male celeb/fictional crushes (very superficial)

Cilian Murphy in disco pigs or in watching the detectives

Tom Hardy as the Kray twins or as this handsome pilot in dunkirk but also as Tom Hardy

Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne

Jesse Eisenberg as Mark Zuckerberg

Barry Keoghan

Tom Holland as Tom Holland

Armie Hammer as the Winklevoss twins

Evan Peters as every character on American Horror Story ever

Josh Hutcherson as Peeta Mellark

Ewan Mitchell

Eddie Redmayne in Hick/Runaway Girl

Lucky Blue Smith

Alexander Skarsgård as Amleth

Elijah Wood

Bradley James as Arthur Pendragon in BBCs Merlin

Rupert Grint as Ronald Weasley

Domhnall Gleeson as Wiliam Weasley or as Konstantin Levin in Anna Karenina

Charles Weasley (with no screentime ever but I absolutely love the idea of a buff Weasley working with dragons)

tbh and to my greatest misfortune redheads don’t need much further qualification:/ save me pls

Daemon Targaryen

Jacaerys Velaryon

Robb Stark

Ramsay Bolton

Björn Ironside

[vampireheist]

I love bill Skarsgard but Matthew goode/ Krisfor Lazar is the only HOT count orlok that exist to me. 'He has gone by many names.' 😩🥵

I believe count orlok was ONE of them.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

A little mood board spinning off of this post!

[midwestpencess]

Nosferatu: A Nightmarish Descent into Gothic Horror

Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is a hauntingly poetic reimagining of a classic tale, weaving together a tapestry of light, shadow, and surreal dreamscapes that stay with you long after the credits roll. At over two hours, the film's runtime is an unexpected commitment, but every moment is meticulously crafted, drawing the audience into its otherworldly atmosphere.

Eggers’ play with light—or more accurately, its absence—creates a visual feast. The interplay of shadow and flickering candlelight evokes a gothic intimacy that feels both oppressive and beautiful. For much of the film, Nosferatu himself is not just a character but a presence—an ominous shadow creeping over cityscapes, sweeping across walls, or lingering in the folds of billowing curtains. This ethereal approach heightens the tension, making him an omnipresent force of dread.

The costuming adds another layer of depth to the character of Count Orlok, played chillingly by Bill Skarsgård. Inspired by Vlad the Impaler, Orlok’s heavy, layered robes and dramatic mustache evoke the gravitas of a high-born Transylvanian nobleman. Skarsgård brings him to life with a rotting, corpse-like physicality, shattering the trope of the seductive, shimmering vampire. His voice is equally captivating—measured, deliberate, and steeped in old-world authority. Every line drips with a refined menace that perfectly captures the essence of an aristocratic predator.

Across the board, the performances are equally captivating. Lily-Rose Depp delivers an incredible showcase of body acting, conveying a fragile intensity that feels deeply visceral. Nicholas Hoult’s portrayal of fear is raw and authentic, grounding the supernatural elements of the story in genuine human emotion.

While Eggers’ Nosferatu may not be for everyone, with its deliberate pacing and artful yet unsettling tone, it’s a masterclass in atmospheric horror. By blending meticulous costuming, a haunting vocal performance, and a shadowy, decayed depiction of the vampire, Eggers offers a vision of Count Orlok that is as terrifying as it is unforgettable.

—

Danielle

[alphabetbill]

N E O N W O L V E S [ teaser? ]

“ this city is my [ h u n t i n g   g r o u n d ] . people like you will always fall prey. no matter how smart you are, now matter how fast or far you run, rabbit. [ y o u ’ l l  b e  d i n n e r  i n  t h e   e n d ] “

__________________________

He just wants to [ e s c a p e ] the city. She just wants to [ s u r v i v e ] it.

La LaXina is Rockett’s home– and she’ll fight dirty before she ever gives it up. The Neon City has many chips and cracks, sure, but she was born and raised on these rough streets, and her loyalty to them may just be what spells her end. She’s got debts to pay and her own grave waiting, that is, if the Southbanks King of crime can catch her first. Janes Hoffman wound himself stranded in La Laxina after a heist gone wrong sent him packing to the prison city, where the only way out is to climb the ranks and bribe one of the crime High Lords into smuggling you out. He works with lock picks, not fists, and he’ll need all the help he can get to make it out alive. A hungry wolf is a deadly wolf- and the King is out for blood, and he's got his whole pack of animals searching. Rockett can't run from her problems forever, and there are fights Janes won't come out of easily. They'll have to pull something out of their asses and come up with a plan to survive- because there are some fates not worth meeting.

-

____________________________________________________________

Just a little something I'm working on. I haven't put Rockett on the cover yet because I didn't really want to use a face claim for her, so I guess when the time comes for the first chapters to be posted, you'll be able to imagine her according to your own liking.

I'm working on the first chapter now so if all goes to plan, as many things don't, you'll get to see that pretty soon.

This story will take place in a futuristic cyberpunk city called La LaXina [ La-zeena], which is named after a fictional Goddess of Waste and Discourse. The city [otherwise known as The Neon City or LaLa] serves as a place for the mainland to dump their prisoners. The city is ruled by High Lords [crime bosses], who are Janes Hoffman's only ticket to being smuggled off the island and to another country where he can start out fresh. He teams up with Rockett, a street fighter who is on the run from one of those High Lords, who calls himself the King of the Southbanks. She'll teach him how to fight, how to work some snazzy futuristic weapons and how to move up in the ranks of street-fighting and racing in order to be scouted for jobs by any interested High Lords.

Looking forward to working on it and I hope I'll have some level of dedication but probably not. We'll see how it goes. A trigger warning list will come with each chapter.

[thewrathoffemalerage]

My other blog is @chaptersleftunwritten if you guys wanna give it a lil peep! I’m trying to make as many moots as I can 🫀

Let’s be friends!!

[lihikainanea]

I am picturing Bill having this specific hobby/thing he likes (a book, a game, an album, etc.) and Tiger knows about it. it's not really Her Thing but she can dabble into it (learn it, experience it). and then one day Bill talks about it and Tiger just simply agrees with him, says a few points of her own about how she's grown to like it, and Bill is just a bundle of emotions. because it's a lot of things at once. she took the time to see what it was about? and then as he listens to her talk about it more it's all OF COURSE she'd get it. OF COURSE she understands the joy he gets from it, why it means so much to him, and so on. it's just a simple moment, but Bill feels so seen and it hits him like a truck. he is so in love. they end up snuggling. :'D

oh god, what if it's something so completely out there and something so not-on-brand that he's actually a little bit shy about it? What if it's something so absurd like....like crochet, nani.

IT'S CROCHET ISN'T IT.

And I'll bet tiger thinks it's real sweet right? Because maybe Granny taught Bill how to crochet. Maybe they'd kind of spend hours together over tea and madeleines, Bill would be holding the ball of yarn while Granny's hands went a mile a minute, and eventually Bill just kind of...well, he picked it up too. And tiger thinks it's so sweet, this big dude with these huge clumsy hands, but the thing is...Bill is kind of really good at it. Like, really good. So tiger also appreciates having all kinds of warm socks and mittens and toques all custom made. And Bill is pretty damn talented, so he crochets all kinds of fancy patterns with all kinds of colours and every once in awhile when a mutual friend compliments tiger's new cute mittens, Bill just sort of smiles shyly and lets himself be a little proud.

And like, he's also super into it, you know? Once he lets go of the initial embarassment. Maybe once tiger points out that literally thousands--if not millions--of people have seen his ween (And literally the ween of nearly every male in his family) on a big screen so a little crafty habit is nothing to be ashamed of. He's part of groups. Facebook groups, online groups. One is for troubleshooting, which he turned to when he couldn't figure out why his current project was just getting wider and wider or when his chain was too tight or he was only crocheting in the front loop. One is for inspo, all kinds of things he wants to create. And one is a legit little support group in the area that meet up every so often, and Bill wishes so badly that he could go but he just doesn't want the visibility. He knows he's the only man in the group, and he's...well, he's him. it would cause a stir.

So my girl tiger--ever the one to indulge her Big Dude in all of his adorable weirdness--maybe there are like, CONS for these things. A Crochet-Con. And she gets wind of one happening about 2 hours away, way in the country side. There's only about 100 people or so who attend, it's so niche, and after some careful creeping tiger realizes that the average age of the participants is like, 80.

Nobody will know who he is there.

It's a whole 2-day event. There's discussion groups to troubleshoot common issues. There's a workshop on crocheting complex patterns. There's a small trade show area where you can sell some of your goods. So tiger gets two tickets, prints them out, and gets all giddy.

Maybe she wanted to keep it a surprise for longer, but when she bounced into the living room she saw her big dorky dude there on the couch, his thick rimmed glasses on, a foot propped up on the coffee table. His tongue was poking out the side of his mouth in concentration as his gaze was fixed on the small crochet hook, the ball of yarn, and this dainty, intricate pattern between his huge hands.

"I have a surprise for you," she smiles, plopping down on the couch. Without missing a beat Bill passes her the ball of yarn and she instinctively unravels some of it as his little crochet hook bobs and weaves at an impressive speed.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks but doesn't look away, "What's that?"

She puts her hand on the small pattern he's creating but he squawks.

"I'll drop a stitch!" he shrieks, then inspects the little piece of fabric thoroughly. Tiger just quirks a brow, and waits.

"Crisis averted?" she chuckles.

"Barely," he snarks, then he softens. "What's up kid?"

Tiger pulls the tickets out from behind her back and hands them to him, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Hooker Con?" he asks skeptically.

"Keep reading."

He scans the rest of the writing, and then his eyes light up.

"It's a crochet con?" he asks excitedly. She nods, smiling.

"It's two days?" he continues reading, "Troubleshooting, discussions, workshop--oh my god, the Jasmine stitch?! that one's impossible to do!"

"It's in two weeks," she says, "I thought it might be fun."

But then suddenly, his face falls.

"Tiger, what about--"

"They won't," she answers his silent question, "I creeped a few past...Hookers. They're all in their 80s bud. I don't think it'll be an issue. And if you're worried, we can glue a beard on you. Slap a wig on."

He smiles at her, leaning over to kiss her.

"There's two tickets," he mumbles, "You're going to come?"

"Of course," she chuckles, "I'd love to."

"But it's crochet," he says shyly.

"It's you," she tells him with another kiss, "And I love this little hobby of yours. I think it's sweet."

"You do?"

"Of course. And I want to...FOTH and frog and HOTH all weekend with you."

Bill laughs boisterously.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," he chuckles.

[kikitata2]

I am aware of the fact that a handful of my posts about the Nosferatu remake have centered around the portrayal of Count Orlok (which this post will be somewhat following up from this one here). But unlike that post, this one will be much more chaotic and frenzied.

But holy fucking shittttttttt! Ever since we’ve been getting HD gifs of the 2024 Nosferatu remake around Tumblr, I’ve always been reminded of some of the effects that Bill Skarsgård’s portrayal of Count Orlok has held on me ever since seeing the bloody movie.

Like I have never crashed out like this mentally over a fucking fictional character. He’s so fucking intimidating and dangerous and outright extremely red-flaggy as shit but also so fucking arousing and “hot” at the same time??? Like what the actual fuckkkkkkkkk???

And it makes me feel so confused and strange because the dude is literally THE LAST KIND OF PERSON that I should want to fold over, let alone even want to be near him if in the scenario that I ever actually fucking encountered the bitch.

But holy christ do I get so wildly feral and turned on by him at the same fucking timeeeeeeeeee

It’s his overwhelming presence, his deep booming voice, his height, the accent, the fucking mustache.

And don’t get me fucking started on HIS EYES.

LOOK AT HOW FUCKING INTENSE HIS EYES ARE!

LOOK AT THE AMOUNT OF VENOM AND DARKNESS HIS GAZE HOLDS!!!!!

HIS GAZE IS SO FUCKING SCARY AND UNCOMFORTABLE BC SOMETIMES THE WAY HE’S JUST STARING STRAIGHT AT THE CAMERA FUCKING GETS TO MY SPINE

BUT MY FUCKING GOD IS IT ALSO SO FUCKING- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ASKHASUASUSAIUSIAOSAOUSAIASOASAIUAYAJDODAJOAEAEHAKEAJOIAKEJKKHEAJKIAEJKAEHAEJELAAEJKAEJLAELEAJAJKKEAEA BILL SKARSGARD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[humanrindswrites]

practice - i

summary: y/n, a former teen sitcom star and current voice actor who never had time for love, has landed her first leading role in a movie. unfortunately, she needs some extra practice with certain scenes and, fortunately, her co-star is willing to help out

pairing: bill skarsgård x female reader

warnings: shy reader, mentions of sex and virginity, self-consciousness and anxiety, nerves, kissing, costars to friends to lovers (eventually)

word count: 2748 words

a/n: another fic based on a dream i had 🙈 this series will get smuttier as it goes on (also bc this is based on a dream i had, the reader is heavily based on me (29 and painfully shy))

one | two | three | four | epilogue

Love at first sight wasn’t real, but it was a myth that Y/N was all too familiar with. She’d played the part of a lovesick teenager many times in the past, on-screen, in voiceover, and in real life, but the real thing just never caught up to her.

‘I’m just focusing on my career right now’ or ‘I just haven’t met the right person’ were her standard responses when being quizzed about her love life, and while they were true, there was one reason that she kept close to her chest.

The thought of being intimate with another person terrified her. And that left her hiding in recording studios, pushing 30, having never had sex, a boyfriend, or even a real first kiss.

When Y/N first accepted the role, she accepted the fact that she would have to get close to her male co-star, but she’d severely underestimated just how close that would be. She was about to go from chaste, closed-mouth kissing on a children’s network to being topless in a movie for adults.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N,” the director had told her. “It’s a closed set; we’ve got an intimacy coordinator, and I’m sure you’ll get on with your co-star. He’s great, it’ll be love at first sight.”

She’d scoffed at that, but as soon as she’d laid eyes on him, she was more inclined to believe in lust at first sight.

Y/N knew that Bill was attractive - she’d seen his work many times - but seeing him in the flesh was a completely different experience. Everything about him was striking: his sharp features, his beautiful eyes, the soft, shy smile he gave her every time he saw her, and the way he towered over her made her weak in the knees. If she was standing next to anyone else like him she would have felt intimidated, but he always put her at ease.

What struck her the most was just how sweet he was. He always gave her the time of day, listening to whatever she had to say and asking for her ideas and opinions on how to perform a scene. If other people found out that her dreams consisted of him fucking her brains out, they would completely understand.

Being able to perform with him should have been a breeze - and it was for the most part - but there was still that last morsel of anxiety in the back of her mind.

The day of the first scene that Y/N was nervous about had finally arrived: the first of many scenes in which she would have to kiss Bill for real. And the whole morning, she felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

She was reading over her lines in her trailer, trying to calm her frayed nerves, when she heard a knock at the door. Nobody was due to be on set for another couple of hours, so why was somebody knocking for her now? She placed her script down on the sofa next to her, the pages open so she wouldn’t lose her place, before getting up to answer the door.

“Who is it?” she called before placing her hand on the handle.

“It’s me,” Bill’s voice came from the other side.

A warm flush spread throughout her body at the sound of his voice. She quickly went back to the mirror on the wall and made sure she looked somewhat presentable - checking her teeth and fluffing her hair - before opening the door to let him in.

“Hey,” she said, trying not to sound breathless at the sight of him.

“Hi,” he said with a soft smile. “Just came to see how you’re doing.”

Something pulled in her chest. She’d been fretting about the scene for days at this point, and now the very man who she was worried about disappointing was standing right in front of her.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Come in, then.” She opened the door wider for him and stood aside for him to walk past her. The fresh scent of his cologne drifted into her nose as he brushed past her, and she fought back a shiver at being so close to him.

“So,” he said when they both sat down on the sofa, “how’re you feeling?”

“Good,” she lied, picking at the cuffs of her sleeves as she cast her eyes down to her knees. “I’m doing good.”

“It doesn’t sound like it. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Y/N breathed in deeply and let out a deep sigh before dragging her eyes up to meet his.

“I’m just a little nervous,” she said softly. More like scared shitless she thought.

“Anything I could do to help? I could run some lines with you.”

Her heart pulled again. He was so kind that she could have cried there and then.

“It’s not the lines that I’m nervous about, it’s the…” she trailed off, too embarrassed to say it.

He looked at her for a second, his brow furrowed in thought, before realising what she meant.

“Oh, the physical parts,” he said. “I get it, sex scenes can be intimidating if you’ve never done it before.”

“Well, it’s not just those scenes,” she said, fighting back her embarrassment to force the words out. “Even the kissing makes me nervous.”

“Why’s that? You’ve kissed on-screen before; I’ve watched your show.”

Oh, god, he knows how bad at kissing I am. She should have been flattered that he’d seen her work, but instead, she wanted to curl up into a ball.

“Yeah, but children’s television is, like, the last bastion of the Hays Code.”

He laughed at that, a soft and beautiful sound that she wanted to hear again. “Okay, but you could just mirror what you do with your boyfriend to make it easier.”

“Um, that’s the thing,” she said, looking down at her hands in her lap again as her hair fell into her face. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Never?” She shook her head and peeked out of her hair at him, seeing how he reacted. Thankfully, he didn’t look at her like she was some pathetic loser, just curiously.

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, making her head snap up to look at him properly. “You’re a pretty girl, so it does surprise me.”

He thinks I’m pretty? Y/N felt her face start to burn and turned her head away so he wouldn’t notice.

“How come?” he asked her.

She shrugged, not wanting to give her usual excuses, but not exactly sure if she could tell him the truth either. Her nerves started to crawl up her throat, and the small room suddenly felt smaller than it really was.

The feeling of Bill’s hand over hers brought her back. Gently, he wrapped his long fingers around her own and stroked his thumb across her knuckles.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said softly. 

“It’s just so intimidating,” she said. “Being intimate with another person. I’m so used to people not touching me in that way that it makes me nervous.”

He nodded and continued to stroke her knuckles, his expression soft and reassuring.

“Maybe you just need some practice,” he offered. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

This cannot be happening right now. Y/N’s heart immediately started hammering in her chest, and she clenched her free hand into a fist to calm her spiking nerves.

“Y-yeah,” she stammered. “Um, if you’re comfortable with that. I don’t want to come between you and your girlfriend.”

“Oh, I, uh, I’m single right now,” he said, suddenly as bashful as her. “But I don’t mind helping you out.”

Hearing him say that he didn’t have a girlfriend set her nerves at ease a little, but there was still that nagging feeling that she was bothering him by being inexperienced and unprepared.

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” he said with a gentle smile. “Just show me what you would normally do.”

Y/N took in a deep breath and slowly let it out through her nose before shuffling up to him on the sofa, their knees almost touching. Their hands were still joined together in her lap as she reached up to touch his jaw with a shaking hand.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I won’t bite.”

She let go of his hand and pushed herself up onto her knees to take his face in both her hands. For a brief moment, she let her eyes wander over his face, admiring how his green eyes sparkled in the light and seeing his full lips curl into a soft, comforting smile.

Finally, she let her eyes drift closed and leaned into him, stiffly pressing her lips against his and keeping still. She barely had time to take in any of him, she was so used to doing it the way she’d been taught to as a teenager: no lingering, no tongue, keep it brief.

One. 

Two. 

Three.

She pulled back sharply, immediately disappointed with herself.

“I’m sorry, that was terrible,” she said as she covered her face with her hands.

“No, it was fine,” he said. “Just, not exactly what we’re going for here.”

Y/N pulled her hands away from her burning face and gripped the side of the sofa, desperate for something to do with her hands.

“Here, let’s try it another way,” he said as he shifted to face her. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nodded, and her breath hitched when he reached up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. His free hand rested on her waist, and he gently drew her towards him.

“Just follow my lead.”

Relax, she told herself when she closed her eyes. Just follow him.

A spark travelled through her body when she felt his lips gently brush against hers, his warm breath against her skin, and she immediately relaxed into his touch as he pressed his lips to hers. His touches were soft, gentle, almost loving, as if the two of them had been doing this forever.

Tentatively, she kissed him back, her movements slow and awkward at first until she fell into a steady rhythm with him. Her hands drifted from the side of the sofa to his shoulders as her heart started to race again, but not from nerves this time. Y/N could feel her whole body run warm, and time seemed to stand still the more he kissed her.

She’d just gotten used to the feeling of his lips on hers when she felt his tongue swipe her lower lip, gently asking permission to enter. A shiver travelled down her spine as she parted her lips, letting him in to softly push his tongue against hers. A soft whine escaped her throat as her hands lifted to the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his soft hair and stroking the nape of his neck.

The hand that held her face drifted down to her waist, and he used both to pull her body closer to his, guiding her to sit in his lap with her breasts pushed up against his chest. She finally matched his movements, her tongue dancing with his, tasting mint and tobacco on his tongue, but she didn’t mind. 

She wanted to taste every part of him.

Seated firmly in his lap, she fought against the urge to grind against him. It was just a little kiss, a practice kiss between co-stars that meant nothing, but to her, it meant everything. She wanted to hear what he really sounded like while in the throes of pleasure, not when he was just playing pretend. But she also didn’t want to ruin the friendship that they had just for her own selfish reasons.

His hands caressed her hips before one slipped under her shirt, stroking her soft skin and drifting up and up until she was sure he was going to dip his fingers under the band of her bra. Her skin tingled under his fingers, and her fingers tightened in his hair, making him hum in pleasure against her mouth. She was breathless and flustered, but she didn’t care; she just wanted to be this close with him forever. But it wasn’t meant to be.

It was over far too soon. 

She could still feel his lips on hers when he slowly pulled away, and she had to force herself not to follow after him. Everywhere he touched her was warm, her heartbeat rising to the surface as he removed his hand from her back to push a stray lock of her hair behind her ear again. Her face was so hot she swore she could have melted in his arms if he hadn’t had such a grounding hold on her.

When she reluctantly opened her eyes, she noticed him looking at her intently, his pupils dilated and his expression soft. She could have kept eye contact with him forever if her anxiety hadn’t come crawling back up her throat.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said softly as she cast her eyes away from him, trying to hide in her hair.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me again.”

His eyes trailed down to her lips, and his tongue briefly darted out to wet his own.

“Maybe I do.”

His hand on her face pulled her attention back to him, and she studied his face intently. A faint blush dusted the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks, his hair was dishevelled at the back from her fingers running through it, and his full lips were slightly parted as he breathed steadily, his chest rising and falling.

She desperately wanted him to kiss her again, not as practice, not as part of a scene, but for real. Because he wanted to.

Her hands shaking, she tentatively placed them on his shoulders as her heart raced in her chest. She held in a shuddering breath as she leaned into him once more, her lips just brushing against his as he gently stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. Her eyes drifted closed and she felt his warm breath on her face and was about to softly press her lips to his…

A forceful knock at the door yanked her back into the real world. Time resumed at its normal pace when Y/N jumped up in shock, her nails digging into his shoulders to stop herself from falling out of his lap.

“Hey, Y/N, are you decent?” her makeup artist’s voice called from the other side.

“Um, one second!” she called back as she stood up, sharper than she meant to.

Shit, how long has it been?

Her mind started to race as she scurried around the small space, trying to make it look like she wasn’t just making out with her co-star. She knew her face was still steaming hot, and the thought of the artist touching her face made her even more flustered.

“I should go,” he said with a soft chuckle as he stood up from the sofa. “They’re probably looking for me, too.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N said, almost immediately calming down again. “Um, I guess I’ll see you on set.”

“Hey,” he said as he placed his hand on the door handle, keeping his voice down so the makeup artist couldn’t hear on the other side. “You’re gonna do great, don’t worry.”

Don’t worry. It was easier said than done, but if he kissed her during the scene the way he’d just kissed her on the sofa, she wouldn’t have any worries at all. She kept her gaze fixed on him, watching how his eyes softened and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile, her face mirroring his before he turned the handle and disappeared out the door.

“What are you smiling about?” the makeup artist asked Y/N, breaking her out of her brief trance. She briefly looked over her shoulder at the door before moving around Y/N to set up her kit. “What were you two doing in here?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said sheepishly as she took her place in front of the mirror, trying her best not to blush again. “Just running some lines.”

The makeup artist didn’t say anything, but Y/N did catch the knowing smile on her face as she started on her hair.

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

NINE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: I have STILL not seen the movie because it hasn't premiered here yet!

“I just think about him a lot. I'm sorry, I don't have the right to do that; I haven't even met him; I just believe I would have really liked him…”

I sat opposite Lotti by her little table with Eric's photo albums in front of us. Sneakily, I had put back the photos I've stolen because I didn't need them anymore.

I shouldn't have been there; I was lying to her in the most awful way, but I also went behind Eric's back to find out things he didn't want to tell me. I had the answers right there, and my curiosity took over.

“You know, I think he would have liked you too. You have a curiosity he would have liked. You feel comfortable with yourself, but with optimism and creativity. He would have liked that,” Lotti said with a smile. She had a good day today and talked about Eric with a smile. I smiled back at her by her words, but the warmth in my chest was from the memory of hearing Eric say “I love you” to me. He had said it that morning on the phone. I would go to him later that night; he worked late that Saturday, so I didn't have a reason to go to him that early, but I had a key to his apartment, so I didn't need to wait for him.

“Can't you tell me more about him? Why do you think he started to take drugs?”

Lotti looked out through the window and smiled sadly. It felt like she had a need to talk about everything, and I was right; my simple question made her tell me stories I never thought I would hear.

×××

Lotti looked at the little boy in the playroom, through the plexiglas. He wore a striped long-sleeved shirt in green shades and red sweatpants. The clothes were a bit big and looked well-used, probably from other kids social services had rescued from dysfunctional homes. He was two years old but lacked the chubby cheeks other two-year-olds would have but also was disinterested in the toys surrounding him. A white rabbit stuffy lay just in front of him, but he didn't give it a look; he just looked around. A young social worker sat by his side and looked at him with wonder. He looked like a doll with his big green eyes, and he sat just as still with his small hands resting on his thighs.

“He can't stand up yet or crawl, so that's probably why he doesn't play,” said the social worker next to Lotti and her husband Eric. They nodded a little even if something else felt wrong.

“Why can't he do that? Does he have a disability?” Eric asked the social worker and looked at baby Eric again. He hadn't moved an inch.

“No, no. He's healthy. Just a little underweight and some rashes. Ehm… We believe he hasn't left the crib very often. Most of his time had probably been spent alone in the bed-”

“What? Has his mother left him in the crib?” Lotti looked between the social worker and the boy, upset.

"Yes, but that is nothing that will shape him. He's so young, so that's nothing you’ll need to worry about.”

The social worker said it with assurance, even if there wasn't any research on the subject in the 90s.

Lotti nodded but felt a lump in her throat.

"His mother is sentenced to six months in prison for drug trafficking, but we believe she needs help with the boy after that too. She must make changes to be able to get him back.”

Lotti was sure. She didn't need to know any more. She wouldn't leave that boy to his destiny. They had room for one more child in their home, and Eric, her husband, earned enough money as a seller in the technology field. It was a business growing every day, and his salary went up with it. He looked at Lotti with a calming smile. He knew his wife had already made a decision, and he felt the same. They could give the boy the security he never had. He looked at the papers, seeing the boy’s name, the surname they shared. It felt like a sign. He wasn't the religious type, but Eric was a family name, a name passed on with love and respect.

The social secretary opened the door to the room baby Eric was in, and the married couple saw him look towards it with a fast movement. They walked in slowly to him, afraid that their presence would scare him, but he sat the same way and looked at them with big eyes. Carefully, Eric lifted up the boy in his arms, and Lotti moved close to them. His eyes shifted from side to side, looking at them. He looked sad but with a calm curiosity.

“Hey Eric, hey sweetie…” said Lotti. He looked at her the same way, but his eyes gave away so many emotions. Lotti dragged a finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear. For her, it was impossible to think that the boy's mom didn't want to take care of him; he had an aura—a much stronger aura than other kids his age had. It was just something with him. Lotti looked at her husband, who had pulled the boy closer to his chest. Both could feel it in their bones, and they could see in the other's eyes they felt the same thing. This boy was theirs. This boy was theirs, and they would do everything in their power for him to only be theirs and save him from his mother and all the darkness.

×××

Little Eric stood on a chair by the sink next to Lotti. He was quite short for his four years but had a personality bigger than other boys his age, and so lovable Lotti could see how others envied her. He stood and washed the dishes with her and laughed while playing with the bubbles. He always wanted to be close to them, always wanting to help.

“You're so good at this, Eric!” Said Lotti with a laugh when he gave her a completely clean glass. Eric laughed again so she could see the deep dimple in his cheek. She kissed it hard and dragged her fingers through his messy hair. In just a few hours, he would go to his biological mother and then come back to them as a shell again. He never told them what happened at his mother's, and that was what made it harder for them to do something. There was no proof the bruises on his little body were from something else than rough playing, but Lotti knew her boy so well, his games well, and it wasn't bruises from the playground.

Lotti woke up from her thoughts when she heard her other son in the living room. He was playing video games and made sound effects for the game. Eric looked towards the living room, and when Lotti did it too, he waved with his little hand, showing that he wanted them to look at what Robin was doing. He always wanted skin-to-skin contact, so Lotti pulled him up on her hip and carried him out to the living room. Robin gave them a bit of an irritated look but wiped it away when his mom dragged her fingers through his hair.

“Are you winning?”

“Yes!” He screamed proudly, and Lotti giggled at him. She looked at Eric, who didn't seem to find the game amusing, and instead looked out from the living room's big window.

“It's sunny…” he said with a small voice. Lotti often got the feeling he didn't dare to use his full voice, and he almost whispered when he talked.

“Do you want to go out? Should we go out and draw a little?”

Eric nodded and dragged his hand over her neck. He was soon five years old but felt both younger and older at the same time.

They moved out to the back of the house, in the early spring sun. She could see Robin through the window and, at the same time, make the last few hours of Eric's time there the best she could. He sat in her lap, drawing whales and colorful birds. He was great at it and could disappear into it completely, but not today. She knew he knew what would happen soon. How they would put him in the car and drive him to the social service office, where his biological mom would get him. She knew he would cry in panic and how the social worker would need to pull him away from her neck. She knew Linda would look smug when she left with their son, not because he wanted her more, just that she was his mom, whatever they said. She didn't need Eric's love; she just wanted to win.

Lotti knew she would cry the rest of the day and think about what Eric did at his mom's place. She wondered in what state he would come home in. Eric hugged her hand hard in his and looked up at her with his big soulful eyes. They were shining with tears.

“I love you, mommy…”

It was a plea, a cry for help, but she couldn't do anything. She took a deep breath so she wouldn't start crying and hugged his little body against hers.

“I love you too, Eric. My baby, my son... I love you most in the entire world.”

×××

It was the third meeting they have had with Eric's school that year. Becoming a teenager was not easy for him, and it revealed sides in him they hadn't noticed before.

He had been such a calm child, and after he stopped seeing his mother, he also started to feel safe and comfortable in his own skin, but instead of those sides growing in him, other things took over.

While some teenagers became a bit moody, he got depressed and had a hard time getting up from bed in the mornings. When he finally was in school, he couldn't concentrate and did things you should absolutely not do in a classroom. Playing with a lighter and burning things up was his favorite, painting on the walls another. Even if all his teachers saw that he was a nice boy with serious problems, they kicked him out of the classroom, and Eric found himself chain smoking and listening to music that matched his mood. He was lonely. Extremely lonely, so when the wrong sort of people stretched a hand out to him, he was quick with taking it.

“We haven't seen Eric for a week now. If it continues like this, we're forced to call social service,” said the principal and leaned against his desk. Lotti looked at her husband and sighed deeply. It was always heartbreaking to hear about how Eric slowly destroyed his life. She knew it wasn't his fault. His biological mother had probably taken substances while pregnant; he had trauma since his childhood with her, and on top of that, he had such severe panic attacks that he had cried for death.

“Eric is a lovely young man and is really appreciated as a person-”

“So why don't you help him more? The only thing you do is throw him out of the classroom! Why should he go to school when no one wants him here?” Lotti said, upset. The principal gave her husband a look, like he thought he should calm his wife down, but Eric felt the same thing and looked at the principal with an angry look.

“We must think about the other students... You haven't thought about maybe taking Eric to a doctor? To get some help with his... problems?”

Lotti looked down at her hands and sighed deeply. She knew they probably needed to do that, but pulling him away to a doctor felt awful. He didn't need that on top of everything else.

×××

Robin always came home from school alone, even if they had told him to drive his brother home. They had given him a new metallic red Mercedes, and it’d been clear that he would give Eric a ride home. Robin always said Eric wanted to go home by himself, and their parents didn't know what to think. Eric liked being alone, but it was a long way home. Lotti looked at Robin disappear to his bedroom with two girls laughing while she sat down by the window. She worried the whole day for Eric and how the medications would affect him. He was such a sweet boy, and she didn't want to destroy that with all the pills he had been prescribed.

She smiled a little when she saw him come walking. He looked like a black raincloud in his black zip hoodie, black jeans, black hair, and black eyeliner around his eyes. He carried his khaki backpack on one shoulder, full of pins from different bands and motifs made to provoke. Still, the kids on the street jump around him. Eric smiled a little while they tried to impress him with their skateboards and MP3 players. Lotti got warm in her chest. It was just something really special with him, and everyone liked him.

“Hey mom!” He shouted when he came in through the door.

"Hey, honey,” answered Lotti and walked out to the hallway to meet him. He had pulled off his hoodie and surprised her with a yellow t-shirt, a sex pistol t-shirt, and he had put his converse neatly on the shoe rack.

He gave her a hug, like he always did when he came home and Lotti took his hand. They needed to talk but were interrupted by Robin's laugh. He came down with his two girlfriends, and Lotti let go of Eric's hand to not embarrass him in front of the older girls. They giggled when they saw him, and he got red in the cheeks and ears.

“Hey Eric,” said one of the girls, and the both of them giggled. Robin rolled his eyes.

“Don't forget to come home for dinner,” said Lotti to her oldest son while her younger son stood looking down on the floor.

“Yeah, yeah!” He answered and opened the door for the girls. Just before he closed it, both Lotti and Eric heard one of the girls say, excited:

“Your brother is so fucking cute!”

Lotti looked at her youngest son, who smiled embarrassed but tried to hide it from his mother. She smiled at him, amused. It was true; he was cute, and she knew he would be more than that one day. She wished she didn't need to have the talk she needed to have with him—let him bask in the girl’s words—but instead she needed to take him to the kitchen, where his medications stood in a row.

“So this is for your ADD, this is the antidepressants, these you can take if you have anxiety, these are for the OCD…” Lotti looked at a note while pointing at the medications in front of them. Eric looked at the medications and dragged his hand over a bruise on his neck he had told his parents was from his karate training. He saw something else than his mom did while looking at the pills.

“You can have them here in the kitchen, in a cabinet-”

Eric gave her a disliking look.

“Robin's friends are always here digging around; can't I just have it in my room?” He said and continued to drag his hand over the bruise. Lotti looked at her son. He was a trustworthy young man, and she trusted him with her life.

“Okay, but you must take them every day.”

Eric nodded, taking the medications in his hands, and walked up the stairs. He would take them every day, but also take more and more for every day.

×××

“That doctor… I can't understand why he felt it was a good idea to give a fourteen-year-old so many medications… But also…” Lotti sighed and looked down at the pictures of Eric. “I can't understand how I thought it was a good idea for him to take care of it all himself. I forgot he wasn't my own flesh and blood so many times…”

I sat in silence for a while, until Lotti sighed.

“But what happened then? I guess you noticed he had taken them all?”

Lotti nodded.

“Yes, and we didn't get him any more medications. He tried to tell us he wouldn't do it again, but we weren't that stupid this time. Then I kinda... Forgot about it all?” Lotti looked shameful. “You must understand, Eric was such a lovely young man with me and others around; I kind of forgot he actually didn't feel well, or maybe I didn't want to believe so? He was just sweet all the time, so we didn't notice he fixed his own drugs instead.”

“Like what?”

“First I think it was weed, then he started with ecstasy and amphetamine... I don't really know when he started to take opiates.”

It was all so sad. They had wanted to give him everything, but his background caught up with him. He had inherited the addiction gene and was also traumatized by abuse. He didn't have a chance. His anxiety had taken over his life, and he still was fighting so hard.

I looked at Lotti while she dried her tears with her floral napkin. I wanted to tell her that the person she loves the most was alive and quite happy, but I didn't dare. I didn't know how that would affect her, and I didn't want to create fights with either Robin or Eric. It was both their choice, and I wanted to give them both respect.

“Did he take drugs all the time after that?”

Lotti looked up at me again and made a loud exhalation. It probably took all her power to talk about Eric, but she continued anyway.

“No, he had a girlfriend that got him to stop, Felice, but when the relationship started to go south, he also felt a need for drugs. And then… With Simone, everything got so much worse.” I looked at Lotti with big eyes. I could feel a stir of anger in my stomach when I thought about Simone, but also jealousy, it was hard thinking about Eric with another woman.

“She broke his heart. Eric was a sensitive boy—so sensitive, and she didn't take his mental health problems seriously. She didn't understand where his addiction came from, so she broke up with him. The next I hear...” Lotti took a break and swallowed hard. “The next…” She swallowed hard again, but the tears had gathered in her eyes and would spill over even if she did everything in her power not to cry. I took her hand in mine, and she let herself cry silently.

“He had overdosed. Heroine. My boy… My little boy…” she cried. My heart beated hard in my chest, and my throat burned like I had swallowed a match. It was awful that she believed he was dead.

“When was this?” I asked carefully.

“Soon three years ago.”

I nodded slowly. It must have been around the same time she had been through her accident, so it was easy to fool her, but that was also what made it even worse. She had also lost her husband around the same time. Why did they do this to Lotti?

×××

The full moon looked at us while we made out. Big and round, it stared at us just like in my dreams, but this time we weren't alone. We sat outside on a cold autumn night after having danced at The Pulse. Four of his friends sat and looked at us while we made out on a teeter-totter on the playground. We had run around there like two kids while his friends passed around a joint.

I had his bomber jacket on top of my own coat while he just wore an oversized t-shirt with a big picture of Courtney Love in a thin neglige. Even if he had so few clothes on, I put my cold hands on his stomach to touch his skin and muscles.

“He's just skinny!” Shouted Jackie towards us, and both me and Eric looked at him amused. Eric dragged me closer to him so he could stuff his nose in my hair and breathe in, and I dragged my hands to his naked back.

“Should we go home?” He whispered, and I nodded. I wanted him to myself now.

“Do you know she stalked you?” Shouted Jackie just as loudly as he had done before. Eric looked at him with a smirk, like it was a bad joke. I, on the other hand, gave Jackie a worried look and swallowed hard.

“Yeah, she had seen you around and begged me for your address. It wasn't a coincidence you met her outside the store.”

Eric looked at me with a confused smirk. He didn't seem to believe Jackie, and neither would I, if it hadn’t been about me.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're going home now,” said Eric, who helped me off the teeter before he stood up himself. While doing that, his sleeve rode up, and I could see the aggressively purple bruise on his upper arm. I saw that Nick looked at it too, but I looked away when he looked at me.

“It's nice seeing you together. Seeing you with a girl. It suits you,” said Nick in a brotherly way, but there was a hint of worry there too. Eric lit up and pulled me close to him. He looked at me with big eyes.

“Yeah. It feels like a dream sometimes.” He didn't let me go with his eyes while his friends started to ‘oh and ah’ and whistle as a joke. Eric smirked at them but then lifted me up easily so I had my legs around his waist.

“Let's go home.”

×××

It was all so good between us, except when his anxiety crept on him in the night, like something heavy lay on his chest, and he couldn't get it away. I could see him touch his neck, like that was the solution. I dragged his hand away and let him lay against my chest and breathe deeply.

“Tell me. What do you think about?”

Eric laid quiet, like he expected the question to disappear if he just ignored it.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I don't know,” he said lowly. “Just shit. Old memories.”

“What kind of memories?” I wanted him to tell me about his childhood with his own words, but he was quiet again.

“It can help to talk about it.”

“I don't know what to say,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. “It's just bullshit things.” 

He was just the same as he was when he was four years old. I wondered if he had told anyone what had actually happened to him as a child. I dragged my fingers through his hair until he suddenly talked with a whisper, like he didn't dare to say it out loud.

“It was my own fault... I should have said something, but... I guess I was ashamed."

“You don't need to be ashamed; it wasn't your fault.” 

My comment could reveal I knew more than I should, but he didn't say anything about it; he just sighed deeply and laid a hand over his face. 

“Eric? You were a child; it's okay to talk about it. You don't have any responsibility for this.” 

He nodded a little but didn't remove his hand, so I moved him away from my chest and laid down so our faces were at the same height. 

I waited for him to say something, and at last he did. 

“I had the best parents... My foster parents. I love…” he swallowed hard and looked down at the sheets. “They were the best, but my biological mother... Eh fuck,” he sat up in bed and laid his hands over his face. I didn't move, hoping he would lay down when he was ready. 

“She was just fucked up.” He shrugged his shoulders like that was all. 

“Fucked up, how?” I asked and dragged my hand over his naked back. Eric put his hands on his head and dragged them back to his neck in an uncomfortable manner. 

“Eh fuck Della, I don't want to talk about this.” 

I nodded a little and pulled lightly on his forearm. 

“Okay, of course. Come now, baby, let's sleep…”  

He laid down on my chest again, and I hugged his head in my arms. I was disappointed he didn't want to tell me, and at the same time, I worried so much about him. It wasn't healthy to carry around such things in his chest without processing them. I also felt the bad conscience grow in my tummy. I knew so much about him but pretended to know nothing so he would tell me more. 

Eric fell asleep after having listened to my heart for a couple minutes; he didn't seem to notice it beating harder with anxiety. I was his girlfriend, but the only thing I did was lie. I wanted to be honest; I wanted our relationship to be true, but for that to happen, I needed to tell him I had stalked him, I had fooled his mom and brother, and I had lied to him. He would never forgive me for that. 

I pressed my cheek against the top of his head and breathed in his minty shampoo. I tried to calm myself with deep breaths, but my tears slipped down in his black hair and disappeared. I wished it could be as easy for my lies to disappear. 

 ××× 

I could see that all of my girlfriends looked at Eric with big eyes, even my sister, Desiree. 

We were out dancing at a club, celebrating Halloween, and getting tipsy on tequila shots. Eric was one of the few guys in the club that had some sort of Halloween costume. He had let me do his makeup, and we matched each other, with black tears streaming down our cheeks, and he also had my black lipstick on. He did what he wanted and didn't even think about how people would react. 

“I think you need a glass of water!” He said to me over the music and laughed at my disoriented look. “I’ll get one for you!”

Eric stood up and walked away to the bar. He towered over most people, and it made it easy for me to see where he went. I looked at my friends who also looked after him. He wore a dark gray tank top in a loose model that showed off his arms and muscular chest. He paired it with bleached jeans that sat baggy on his long legs. 

“He's hot as fuck!” Nessa said to me loudly over the music even if her boyfriend sat next to her. I giggled and laid my head against the couch. I was a bit too drunk, but I had the luxury to know I had a boyfriend who would be able to carry me home. 

“He is, but... He looks like a player! Are you sure he is a good guy?” asked Desiree and looked at me seriously. 

“He's not a player! I promise. Don't you notice how shy he is?” 

Eric had said hello to everyone but kept mostly quiet while we talked. He just nodded a little with a smile when he agreed with something. 

“Are you sure he's shy? It can just be a way to win you over,” said Nessa's boyfriend and took a sip of his beer. I gave him an irritated, pointed look.

“You think he has played shy for three months? He's shy! Even if he looks like a bad boy!” I said with a drunken giggle. Desiree shook her head amused and also giggled. We fell quiet when Eric came back, carrying a glass of water for me and a beer for himself. In my toxication, I crawled into his lap with a giggle and kissed his face several times. I was so proud to have such a hot, sweet boyfriend. I could see jealous eyes on us. Eric smirked at me but then pressed his lips against mine. 

“What's your training routine?” Paulina's boyfriend asked suddenly. I had seen him looking at Eric a lot, but I hadn't put so much thought into what it meant, but now I knew. I looked at Eric, who played with my short leather skirt with an uncomfortable expression. He was probably not so comfortable answering that because he trained a bit too much. It was sometimes many hours a day. 

“No, you don't really know, right? You just work out when you want to,” I said so he wouldn't need to answer the question. He looked at me with big eyes, then smiled. 

“Yeah, it's not scheduled, so I don't know,” said he with a shoulder shrug.

××× 

We became even more intoxicated, except Eric, who drank as much as the other guys but was completely unfazed. We were outside of the club, ready to go to the next destination, but we needed to wait on Nessa, who puked in an alley with Desiree as help. Paulina and Amanda looked between me and Eric, leaning against the building further away, closer to the alley. 

“He's super hot... Isn't that hard? I don't mean this in a bad way, but... He's a really hot guy, while you're more... Cute?” said Amanda.

I scoffed and looked at Eric, who had pulled up his tank top to show his abs for the men around him. It was silly behavior and probably nothing they would have done if they weren't drunk. 

“You mean I'm not hot enough for him?” 

“I don't mean it like that! Just that you maybe don't match?” 

I shook my head in disbelief but also wondered how she would continue the conversation, but instead both of my friends just looked at him when he laughed showing off his abs. I was so proud of him. So, so proud of that amazing human, but now I felt worried and jealous. Because of Demi's reaction to him, I had started to believe I was the only one seeing his beauty, but I was so wrong; even the guys stood and gawked at his body. I had been naive, and now I got worried some other girl was around the corner, prepared to steal my man. 

I left Paulina and Amanda without saying anything and walked up to my tall boyfriend. He was the tallest in the group. He was the fittest in the group. The hottest of them too. I wasn't the hottest of my friends; I wasn't even the tallest. 

“I'm tired,” I whined and pushed my face against his chest, acting like I was more drunk than I was. Eric looked down at me with a silly smile and put my hair behind my ear with soft fingers. 

“Do you want to go home?” He asked and lifted my chin so he could look me in the eyes. I pouted and nodded like a sour five-year-old. He played with my pouting underlip with his thumb in a teasing way and made the same face himself. 

“Then we go home, yeah?” 

I nodded but lifted my arms, and he lifted me up like it was obvious what I wanted. I could see my girlfriends look at me with some sort of envy. Maybe they just wanted their boyfriends to be more like Eric, or they wanted him. I didn't care, the only thing I knew was that I would never let him go. He was mine. 

××× 

How we ended up on the floor I couldn't remember. I could only remember what I saw right then and there. Eric had my naked leg in a tight grip, slung over his shoulder, while snapping his hips fast. His girthy cock pushed into me fast and hard and I could hear myself moaning in a pathetic way; sometimes I even mixed in his name, something I've never done with any guy before. When I looked up at him, I could see his dark gaze and open mouth. I could see a sweaty chest and abs and a v-line carved with the sharpest knife. He kissed my calf while slapping his hips against mine. He let me often lay down because I couldn't match his strength and stamina, but he didn't complain; it felt more like he fucked me even harder because he wanted to tease me.

“Can I come inside of you?” He said it between his pants, and I just nodded. He had learned he didn't need to do much to get me to come when he had transformed me into a pile of just lifeless body parts, he just pressed down with two fingers over my clit, like it was a button, and rubbed it a few times, then I came together with him. 

××× 

I really needed to start to work out again. Even if I hadn't really done any heavy lifting, I had pain in my thighs the next morning. I was happy my parents had been nice and had taken Odin for a night; in exchange, they could meet my boyfriend. I looked at my boyfriend snoring loudly with an open mouth. He always snored loudly when he had been drinking alcohol. Sometimes he even woke me up. I was nervous about bringing him to my parents. I knew he would be the best boy but I didn't know if my parents would be as well behaved. I don’t even think they had seen someone with as many tattoos as Eric. They would probably be uncomfortable but I hoped they at least would be nice. 

I laid my nose against his neck even if he was snoring and slung a leg over his hip. I just wanted to be close, and I hoped the sight of my pussy so close to his cock would make him perk up when he was awake. I smirked to myself, lost in filthy thoughts, so I didn't even hear the entrance door open. 

If I knew, I would have jumped up and closed the door to the bedroom. If I knew that Robin had taken his own key to surprise me early in the morning, I would have suggested Eric should take a run in my neighborhood. The last thing I would do was lay naked with his brother, who started to get hard in his sleep. 

I thought I heard the sound of keys but waved it away as nothing. Instead, I dug down my nose even further down in Eric's neck and let my pussy push against his hardened cock. I knew it was okay I did that; he just likes being woken up with sex.

“What the fuck?” I heard Robin say behind me in such a confused voice that I didn't even recognize his voice. I turned to the door and met his blue eyes that looked at us upset. First I couldn't move, even if he could see so much of our naked bodies, and when I started to realize what was actually happening, I moved away from Eric and covered us both up with covers. 

“Oh my god, oh my god... Robin, it wasn't meant…” I whined and put my hands over my face in shame. 

“You're fucking with him??” Said Robin, upset and waved with his arms, so he accidentally waved down a vase standing on my vanity table. It was crushed into hundreds of small pieces, but it also crushed Eric's sleep, and he looked up, confused. He sat up, exposing his whole naked torso, and it made Robin look away, like he thought the view was disgusting. Eric looked at Robin in silence than at me in confusion. 

“What, what, what is this?” He stuttered. His big green eyes were full of worry but also hurt. He already knew I had done something stupid that would break his trust in just as many pieces as the vase. 

×

[virtuouswhitehatorganization]

Black Hat Approves Of The new Nosterafu

I have a feeling he's sick of those vampires are misunderstood creature fiction and loves seeing ones in all their evil glory. Bill Skarsgard might have missed with the Crow but he's rocking with Nosferatu.