#billy fanfiction

[cherryssodapop]

Billy Hargrove One Shot: Your Heartbeat Next to Mine

JA PIERDOLEEEE THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE

angst, angst and ANGSTTTT!!!! sO mUCh TENSION oml ishbdvihbf I promise there's a happy ending. LORD this story was a ride.

female!reader

synopsis: Billy loves you but he doesn't know how to deal with it. His insecurities get the best of him and he abandons you. It's okay though cause you guys work through it. You're a feisty bitch though, you don't let him get away with his behaviour... not entirely at least.

your revenge fit at the party

I got a little carried away...hhahhha okhopeyouenjoy-

-

There was something unspoken between you and Billy Hargrove, a tension that seemed to hum in the air whenever you were near him. On the surface, you could call yourselves friends, but even that label felt too simple for whatever this was. The truth was, your connection with Billy defied explanation. Friends don’t make your heart race with a single glance, don’t leave you second-guessing your reflection or whether the shirt you chose might catch their attention. Friends don’t make you obsess over every tiny detail—or purposely choose to test their reaction with a little extra effort.

It was only Billy. Only he could make you so hyperaware of yourself, set your pulse pounding just by standing a little too close. Only he could make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe, sharing moments so raw and real they felt like they belonged to another world. With Billy, you felt safe—your heart felt safe. He was the keeper of your secrets, and you were his. Whatever this was between you, it wasn’t just friendship. It was something deeper, something you couldn’t name but could never ignore.

In turn, Billy made sure you noticed him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He’d wear just enough cologne that its scent lingered in the air when he walked by, flash his brightest smile, his teeth so white they practically gleamed, or feel his pulse spike when your hands accidentally brushed helping you with a book on the library’s top shelf. Naturally, he insisted on grabbing it for you, throwing in a cocky, "Your short ass couldn’t reach far enough," as if his heart wasn’t racing from the simple touch.

It was unnerving. Billy was never uncertain around girls. He always knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and the tone of voice to use to get his way. It was second nature, and it worked like a charm every single time. But with you? God, for the first time in his life, his brain stalled. His mouth would hang open, and he couldn’t string two coherent words together. It terrified him. And when Billy was uncomfortable, when emotions clawed too close to the surface—he did what he always did: avoid.

Avoid, deflect, evade. Put on the mask, walk away. Find a distraction, wait for the feelings to fade. It had always worked. No one got too close, and he didn’t get hurt. Relationships, real connections—those always crumbled before they began because Billy kept everyone at arm’s length. He told himself it was better that way. He’d been alone his entire life, so why should now be any different?

But then there was you. The second he realized he couldn’t stop thinking about you, it unraveled him. What was it about you? Why did you make him feel so exposed? Why did you leave him fumbling, questioning himself, wanting more in a way that scared him half to death? Billy didn’t have the answers, and it drove him mad. You weren’t like anyone else, and that infuriated and captivated him all at once.

The way you were so genuine with him—so kind—it threw Billy off balance. He could tell there was no hidden agenda behind your kindness; it was just who you were. The way you looked at him with those big, curious eyes had a way of softening something inside him that he didn’t even know was there. And you weren’t just kind—you were strong. Fearless, even. You didn’t hesitate to call him out on his bullshit, no matter how bruised his ego got. You’d lay it all out for him, and though he might roll his eyes in the moment, he appreciated it more than he’d ever admit. Someone had to keep him in check, after all.

You were stubborn, too—a little firecracker who wouldn’t listen to him even if your life depended on it. It made him laugh more often than it frustrated him because, inevitably, you’d figure things out for yourself and come back with that guilty look in your eyes. And every time, without fail, he’d hit you with an "I told you so." That was the rhythm of your friendship: equal parts looking out for each other and creating chaos together. It was a kind of energy Billy hadn’t felt since he left California—a carefree, reckless joy that made him feel like a kid again.

Your bold, unapologetic spirit ignited something in him. You were so unapologetically you, and Billy couldn’t help but admire it. He loved that about you. Loved you. Though he wasn’t sure when it started, or how it happened, he knew one thing for sure: you had a way of making him feel alive in a way no one else ever had.

The moment Billy admitted it to himself—that he loved you—he panicked. Abort. Abort immediately. There was no way this was happening. He couldn’t possibly have feelings for someone, let alone the one real friend he’d managed to make in this godforsaken town. He wasn’t about to ruin that by making things weird. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were beautiful—too beautiful, really. The kind of beautiful that made his chest ache. He’d seen plenty of pretty girls, but none of them compared to you. From the way your eyes lit up when you were excited, to how your hair framed your face, down to the dimples that appeared when your smile stretched just a little too wide. He was a goner, and he hated it. But the heart wants what it wants, and it doesn’t ask for permission.

Reality, of course, had other plans. He knew you were aware of his reputation. How could you not be? He’d been pretty shameless about it, after all. And because of that, he also knew he’d never be enough for you. Not in a million years. Not him—Billy Hargrove, the town’s walking disappointment, his dad’s words forever burned into his mind. He couldn’t give you what you deserved.

But damn, did he wish he could. He wished he could hold you, tuck you close to his chest, and tell you how your eyes sparkled in the sunlight. That you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He clung to that fantasy because it was all he’d ever have.

And that’s why, the day he realized his feelings, he made a decision. He pulled back. Removed himself from your presence. It was easier this way. For you. For him. At least, that’s what he told himself as he let you slip further and further away.

Billy disappeared from your life like a shadow at sunrise, pulling back completely. He began treating you the way he treated the girls he’d hooked up with and discarded, as if you didn’t exist. No glances, no words, not even the faintest nod of acknowledgment. One day, it was as if you were everything, and the next, you were nothing.

You didn’t know why. You tried calling him, catching him between classes, approaching him in the halls, but every time, he brushed past you like you were invisible. It was maddening. You replayed every interaction in your head, trying to pinpoint the moment things went wrong. What had you done to push him away so completely? You hated conflict, especially with him. He was the one person you cared about the most, and now he was gone without a word.

You even worked up the nerve to confront him at his house. Each time, though, Max answered the door with the same confused look and a string of familiar lines.

"He doesn’t want to see you." "I don’t know why either." "He’s been brooding in his room for days." "Yeah, like hell he’ll tell me." "He’s been a bigger dick than usual lately." "Did you guys get into a fight?"

Every time, you’d shake your head and apologize for intruding, only to leave with a heavier heart. It was like trying to climb a wall that only grew higher the harder you tried. His defenses were back up, stronger than ever, shutting you out completely. But why? What had you done to deserve this?

Weeks passed, and the weight of his silence became unbearable. You’d chased answers, dissected every memory, and tried to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces. But you were tired. Whether it was something you did or something he was dealing with, it didn’t matter anymore. The message was clear: Billy had made his choice.

If he’d moved on, maybe it was time you did, too.

-

The full moon hung high, its silver light spilling over Hawkins and casting an ethereal glow on the summer night. You couldn’t remember if it was Tina or Carol who threw the party, but it didn’t matter. The music was loud, the liquor warm in your veins, and for once, all the thoughts that usually clouded your mind were blissfully absent. You were having fun—finally letting loose.

At least, you were until your eyes wandered to the crowded dance floor. And there he was. Billy.

Your stomach dropped like a stone. He was the last person you wanted to see tonight, especially now. He was right in the middle of the floor, tangled up with some girl—Vicky or Cindy or Becky, you didn’t care enough to know her name. Grinding, touching, doing all the things he’d been doing with whoever caught his attention these past few weeks since he’d cut you off. A cigarette hung from his lips, and his cheeks were flushed, a telltale sign of the alcohol coursing through him.

It pissed you off. It really pissed you off. But you had to play it cool. It wasn’t like that between you two. It never was, and as Billy had made abundantly clear, it never would be.

Still, just as you were about to look away, his eyes found yours. Your breath caught, and for a moment, it was as if the world around you stilled. His movements came to an abrupt halt, the cigarette slipping from his lips and landing with a hiss against the girl’s skin—what was her name? Fanny? Mandy? She yelped, storming off in a fit, but Billy didn’t even register her.

Instead, his gaze stayed locked on you. His expression was unreadable, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite name. And even though every rational part of you screamed to turn away, to break the connection, you couldn’t. Not yet.

Billy looked at you like he wanted to devour you, and honestly, who could blame him? You looked absolutely stunning. The cheetah-print dress hugged every curve of your body just right, showing off your long, toned legs. Your black leather jacket, adorned with studs, added a rebellious edge that was so quintessentially you. You looked like the kind of rock star MTV would kill to feature, exuding confidence and effortless cool.

The black platform boots you wore gave you a few extra inches, adding to your commanding presence, while your makeup accentuated your features to perfection. Your hair, styled in a flawless blowout, framed your face like a masterpiece. Tonight, you were more than just beautiful—you were a living, breathing work of art.

And Billy wasn’t the only one who noticed. Guys had been sneaking glances at you all night, their eyes lingering a little too long. One of them, in particular, caught your attention—and Billy’s. Steve Harrington. The tension between them was practically palpable, and the way Steve’s gaze lingered on you only seemed to make Billy’s grip on his composure slip further.

Your eyes flicked to Steve, who was off to the side dancing, then back to Billy. Back and forth, your gaze darted between the two, until a mischievous grin crept across your face—the kind of grin you wore when you were about to cause trouble. Billy’s jaw tensed, his blue eyes narrowing as if silently begging you, Don’t you dare.

But his expression only fueled your resolve. With zero hesitation, you slipped through the throng of partygoers, weaving your way toward Steve. He turned as you approached, his signature smile already in place. Before he could say a word, you grabbed his hand, a playful spark in your eyes, and tugged him along behind you.

You led him straight back to where you’d been standing, making sure Billy had the perfect view. If he could play his games, so could you. If he thought he could act like you didn’t matter, well, it was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. Let him watch. Let him feel it. Because tonight, you weren’t playing by his rules anymore.

“Y/n! You look amazing! Having a good time tonight?” Steve called out over the thumping bass, his grin as easy as ever.

You returned the smile, but there was a hint of something sharper in it—something you’d picked up from Billy. The kind of smile he wore when he wanted to make someone squirm. You didn’t have to look to know he was watching; you could feel the heat of his stare from across the room. Billy Hargrove wasn’t subtle, not when it came to you.

But tonight wasn’t about subtlety. He needed to feel the same ache clawing at you, the same frustration. Otherwise, the knot in your chest wouldn’t unravel.

“Sure am,” you said, stepping closer to Steve, your voice dropping just enough to make it linger. “Looking pretty good yourself, Harrington. Mind if I take a closer look?”

Your hands slid around his neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The music shifted, Samantha Fox’s "Touch Me" pumping through the speakers like a soundtrack crafted for your little game.

Steve didn’t hesitate, his hands finding your waist as your hips swayed in time with the beat. The air thickened around you, the crowd blurring into the background. You knew Billy was watching every second, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

You and Steve were close. Too close. Uncomfortably close for Billy’s liking. His jaw tightened, fists flexing at his sides as he watched from across the room. The sight of you with your arms around Harrington made his blood boil.

His left foot twitched forward, instinct begging him to storm over and put an end to whatever game you were playing. But he stopped himself, freezing mid-step. He couldn’t make a scene—not here, not now, not with so many eyes watching. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, his icy blue gaze locked on you.

Alright, pretty girl. You wanted to play the long game? Fine. Billy could play it, too. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, but when the moment called for it, he could summon enough to keep his cool.

You were a brat sometimes, no doubt about it. It infuriated him, sure, but it also thrilled him in ways he didn’t like to admit. He lived for the challenge of putting you in your place, and tonight? Tonight, you were practically begging for it.

Billy smirked, leaning back against the wall with feigned ease. His time would come. And when it did, he’d make sure you remembered exactly who you were dealing with.

As you danced with Steve, your eyes darted to Billy. His gaze was sharp as a blade, cutting through the crowd to you and your intoxicated partner. The intensity in his stare sent a thrill through you—your plan was working.

Deciding to push things further, you tilted Steve’s head back, giving yourself better access to his neck. His hands roamed boldly, brushing over your lower back and grazing your ass. You ignored it, too focused on the next move. Your lips found his neck, and you began sucking, leaving a mark that would be impossible to miss. Steve let out a low hum, his eyes fluttering shut as you worked the patch of skin into a deep purple bruise.

When you were satisfied, Steve leaned in for your lips, but you teasingly caught his lower lip between your teeth, tugging just enough to leave him wanting more. The song ended, the crowd's energy fading as the music shifted to something slower.

Breathless, you locked eyes with Steve, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. But when you glanced back to where Billy had been standing, he was gone.

A flicker of worry danced in your chest. Was he off doing something reckless, or had your plan fallen flat? Either way, you kept your composure, releasing Steve with a parting wink.

“That was fun,” you said, flashing a coy smile. “Catch you later.”

As you walked off, weaving through the crowd, you headed toward the hallway to freshen up. The muffled music faded behind you as you found yourself surrounded by doors, each leading who knew where.

The bathroom had to be close, you thought, glancing at the nondescript doorframes. Before you could decide which to try, a door to your right swung open, and a strong hand grabbed your arm. You barely had time to react before you were yanked inside, the door slamming shut behind you.

Billy.

His grip on your arm was firm, his chest heaving slightly as he leaned in, one hand pinning the door behind you. His intense, angry eyes bored into yours, and the heat of his fury practically crackled in the air.

Your heart raced, but not from fear. His jealousy, the sheer possessiveness in his gaze—it sent a rush through you.

The room was small, a bathroom with a sink to your left and a shower tucked behind it. The dim light from the mirror reflected off Billy’s sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

It was safe to say your plan had worked. He was pissed. Jealous. And if you were being honest, it thrilled you more than it should have.

“You think you’re real cute pulling that little stunt back there, huh?” Billy’s voice was low, trembling with barely restrained emotion. He tried to sound angry, but his vulnerability bled through. Seeing you with someone else shouldn’t bother him—you weren’t his anymore. Hell, you were never his to begin with. But it hit a nerve he couldn’t ignore.

“Wow, Hargrove. Can’t handle me playing your game—and doing it better too?” you snapped, venom lacing your voice. It was the first time you’d spoken in months, and you weren’t about to hold back. Why should you spare his feelings when he’d done nothing but trample yours?

He released your arm, stepping back, visibly startled by the way you used his last name. “I didn’t realize we were on a last-name basis, Y/L/N.”

“I didn’t realize we were on any basis at all,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unforgiving.

“Three months, Billy. Three fucking months you don't talk to me. You just cut me off, treating me like I’m nothing, like everything we went through together, all the memories we made, meant absolute jack shit to you. And on top of that, you made me feel like I was the one who messed up! Like I did something wrong, and I wasn’t even given the chance to understand, let alone fix it! And now, here you are, locking me in a room and acting like some jealous boyfriend of mine because I was dancing with Steve Harrington!?”

“You did a whole lot more than dance with him,” he snarled, the jealousy in his tone unmistakable.

“Oh, and like you were doing anything less with what’s-her-face—Candy?” Tears blurred your vision as you spat the words. Couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he understand how heartbroken you were? That Steve was just a distraction, not the reason for your pain?

“That’s not her name,” he muttered, his voice softening. He quickly realized that his whole plan to get back at you for earlier was falling apart—of course it was, because there was one huge issue between you two: Billy had cut you off without explanation, and you weren’t going to just let that go.

“Oh, so you even remember her name? Great. Well, why don’t you go cry on her shoulder, then?” You turned to leave, reaching for the door, but Billy slammed it shut and spun you back to face him.

“Y/n, you don’t understand. It’s not like that!” he exclaimed, desperation clear in his voice.

Your eyes narrowed, your tear-streaked face a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Are you serious right now?” you thought to yourself. Your voice was trembling as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Well, since you’re not letting me out of this bathroom anytime soon,” you said, “why don’t you go ahead and explain? I’m all ears.” You hoisted yourself onto the sink counter, crossing your arms and legs, daring him to speak.

Billy stood frozen, his head lowered like a guilty child caught red-handed. His hands fidgeted at his sides, and he avoided your gaze. Only you could unravel him like this, turn the usually unshakable Billy into a nervous wreck.

“Well?” you pressed, your patience wearing thin. “Say something!”

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he finally admitted, his voice quiet. “Especially looking so… well, so you.” His gaze flicked over you, lingering just a moment too long. Even in the middle of this heated exchange, he couldn’t help but think you looked stunning.

You rolled your eyes at the attempted compliment, though a small part of you, deep down, appreciated it. “Don’t think flattery is going to get you out of this.”

“I know it won’t,” he said quickly, cutting you off. “Just… listen, okay? I know I screwed up. Big time. But I—well, you—”

“What? I what, Billy? Why did you leave me?” you demanded, your voice breaking.

“Because I love you!” The words burst out of him before he could stop them.

The room fell silent. You stared at him, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. Did he really just say that?

“…There, I said it. I love you, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you this whole time,” he continued, his voice shaking now. “And I know we were just friends, and I’ll admit it, that friendship meant the world to me. But…”

“So instead of talking to me,” you said, stepping off the counter and closing the distance between you, “you just disappeared. You love me, but you choose to fuck around with other women?”

“Because that’s all I’m good for, right?” Billy’s voice cracked, his frustration giving way to despair. “That’s all I’ve ever been good for. You know me, Y/n. You know how I am. I figured… I figured I’d ruin everything if I told you. And I thought… I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

It was heartbreaking to hear, but the weight of his words didn’t surprise you. Billy’s bravado, his sharp tongue, and his cocky smirk—they were all carefully constructed armor, shielding the deep scars his father had left behind. You knew enough about Neil Hargrove to understand that Billy had spent years being told he wasn’t good enough, couldn’t do anything right, would never amount to anything. The man’s words and fists had conditioned Billy to believe he didn’t deserve good things, that his role in life was to destroy or be destroyed.

This wasn’t just about you. It was about years of internalized shame and self-doubt, ingrained in him by a father who had never let him feel worthy of love. To Billy, losing you wasn’t just a fear—it was a foregone conclusion, another thing to fail at, another thing to ruin. So he’d done what he thought was inevitable: he pushed you away before you could leave him first.

You felt your heart ache for him. For the boy who had tried so hard to outrun the shadow of his father’s voice, only to let it guide his every move. And now, standing in front of you, his walls crumbling, he wasn’t the cocky, confident Billy Hargrove the world saw. He was just a boy desperate to be loved but terrified he didn’t deserve it.

Tears filled your eyes again as you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. He leaned into your touch, exhaling shakily, like he’d been holding his breath for months.

“Oh, Billy,” you whispered, your heart softened at his words. All the anger melted away as you pieced it together.. “You ran away because you thought I couldn’t love you back?”

He nodded, too ashamed to meet your eyes. “I know. It’s stupid—”

“You’re not stupid,” you interrupted, your tone firm but kind. Wiping a tear from his cheek. “But you’re a damned fool, Billy Hargrove. And you couldn’t be more wrong.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, hope flickering in their depths.

“What are you—”

"I'm saying I love you too, idiot," you manage to say through your tears, a smile breaking through as Billy mirrors your expression. The two of you let out a small, breathless laugh, the absurdity of the moment sinking in. One simple conversation could have avoided all of this—weeks, maybe months, of tension and missteps. But then again, nothing about the way you two loved each other had ever been simple.

"This whole time?" he asked softly, his voice carrying the weight of regret and longing.

You nodded, your heart swelling and breaking all at once. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, then pulled you into a hug so tight you could feel the unspoken ache in him. This was what he had wanted, what he had dreamed of, and yet he couldn’t help but wish it had come under different circumstances.

When he pulled back, his hands stayed on your shoulders as he searched your eyes, now lit with a fragile hope. His fingers traced the line of your chin as he leaned in, his lips hovering close to yours. But just before he closed the distance, your hand pressed firmly against his chest, stopping him.

"But it doesn’t change the fact that you broke my heart and put me through hell..." you said quietly, your words cutting through the fragile moment. The light in his eyes faltered, dimming into something more pained and uncertain. Of course, it wasn’t going to be easy—nothing with you two ever was. He stepped back slightly, his hands falling away.

"I know," he said, his voice raw. "And you have no idea how sorry I am, sweetheart. I pushed you away. I messed it all up. And in the process, I lost you."

You nodded, the weight of his admission heavy between you. A part of you wanted to forgive him immediately. You wanted to let the warmth of his arms and the tenderness in his eyes convince you that it would all be okay. But fear lingered—fear of being hurt again, of rebuilding something so fragile.

"You did lose me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I did," he said, his tone unwavering. Then his eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with a quiet determination. "Losing you meant losing everything. But you know what? That just means I’ve got nothing left to lose now."

Before you could process his words, his lips crashed into yours, desperate and unyielding. It wasn’t careful or perfect—it was messy, raw, and filled with everything he’d been holding back. And for once, you didn’t stop him.

Your arms wrapped around him, tight and possessive, like a cobra coiling around its prey. Pulling him closer as your lips met in a searing kiss. It was urgent, almost frantic, like neither of you could get enough of each other. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tighter, as if he wanted to lose himself in the feeling of you against him. Your heart raced, a mix of desire and something deeper, something tangled with the emotions you couldn't quite untangle yet.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours in perfect sync, as if you had done this a thousand times. His tongue traced the line of your lips, asking for permission that you gladly gave, and soon you both were lost in the heat of it. You could feel his breath coming faster, his body pressing into yours, and you responded just as eagerly, matching his pace. The kiss was messy, desperate, a blend of passion and pent-up frustration, the kind that had been building between you for far too long.

His hands slid to your back, pulling you even closer, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed him harder, deeper. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, the kiss now less about exploring and more about releasing the tension that had been between you both for far too long. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his lips, the heat of his breath mixing with yours as your bodies swayed together in sync.

When you both finally pulled away, breathless, your chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath, Billy leaned his forehead against yours, his fingers gently cupping your cheeks, still trembling from the intensity of the kiss. His lips brushed against yours one last time in a soft, lingering kiss that held more than words ever could.

“Baby girl,” his voice was husky, still thick with emotion, “I know things are messed up right now, but if you’ll let me, I promise I’ll fix it. I mean it.”

You took a deep breath, eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Look, how about we meet up tomorrow and talk? As a start… yeah?"

He smiled, his lips still tingling from the kiss. “Deal. But what do you say I take you home tonight?”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth that had been missing for so long. “Sure, take me home, Billy.”

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 12: Don't Be A Stranger

If you need to catch up here's the masterlist

Summary: Apparently... Jess has new plans for Christmas

Warnings: Mentions of Neil (gross), crude language, cursing, Neil being homophobic if you squint, Billy being a little shit. I think that's it, but as always, let me know if I missed something.

Word Count: 4.8K

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I've been MIA for so long but I'm officially back from my month and a half vacation! TBH I've missed you guys and hope you all enjoy!

“You chaperoning tonight?” Steve walked with Jess toward the parking lot from the gym as they left practice much earlier than usual. The coaches considered this an “early Christmas present” but ensured the basketball team would be having practice a week before school started again in January. The Snow Ball had been the talk of this school week even if it was only meant for the middle schoolers. However, it had also been an excuse for the high schoolers to throw their own parties or get-togethers, not to mention it marked the beginning of winter break, something everyone, including Jess, was looking forward to. 

“Not this year, you?” Jess already knew the answer. Steve never enjoyed that kind of thing, and even if he did, both Nancy and Jonathan would be there tonight, which would have made him want to change his plans. 

Steve shook his head but added, “I’m helpin’ mini-Harrison with his hair tonight though and droppin’ him off tonight.” 

“Who? Dustin?” 

“Hell yeah Dustin. He’s gonna kill it tonight, I know it.” Jess laughed at the thought of Steve combing another teenager’s hair for them. 

“So what are your plans tonight then?” Jess contemplated this question. She wasn’t sure whether she would start on the tedious task Mr. Crowley assigned both her and Billy as Billy probably wouldn’t want to spend his first night of freedom studying. Considering the night it was, she was sure that Hargrove already had plans. She then looked out into the lot and saw him leaning against the familiar blue car, cigarette already placed in his mouth of course. Max was there as well, which surprised Jess since their practice was released 20 minutes after Max’s school was. 

“Uhm, maybe get a head start on some schoolwork. I’m not sure really.” She kept her eyes on Billy though, hoping that maybe that would change.

“Lame.” Steve teased. He continued to walk with Jess, passing his own car as he did so.

“Uh wasn’t that-“

“I thought I’d walk you. Besides Max is there,” was all he said, keeping his eyes on the pair in front of them now, eyeing Billy skeptically as he walked up. “You excited for tonight, kid? You’re first one, right?” 

Max beamed up at Steve, clutching her board as she responded, “Oh yeah, can’t wait, especially since Henderson said you’d be doing his hair again, and that went soooo well last time.” Steve cringed at the memory of two weeks ago, which was described to Jess as a wreck. Dustin apparently was adamant about doing it himself, as he was a hands-on learner apparently, and it ended with screaming from spraying product right in his eye and a small chunk of hair being ripped out due to his hair tangling in the comb, which Dustin swore was due to him balding. 

“Yeah well, I’ll be doing it tonight… I think.” Steve began to stare down Billy again who was also looking at him intently, blowing smoke straight at Steve when he glanced over at him. 

Steve aggressively waved his hand once to get most of the smoke away from him, annoyed by the gesture. “Harrington.” Billy nodded his direction once Steve was able to get most of the smoke out of his face. 

“Hargrove.” They stared at each other for a moment longer when Steve continued, “Guessing you got big plans tonight,” he prodded, insinuating he would be partying with Tommy and Carol, as the pair were always up to something during the Snow Ball. 

Billy swiped his teeth with his tongue as he crushed his red with his boot, smirking to himself when he looked down to ensure it was fully put out. “Don’t really know, Harrington. Depends on what this one wants to do.” He gestured toward Jess, which caused Steve to shift uncomfortably, not enjoying the thought of Jess spending as much time as she had been with Hargrove. Steve rolled his eyes at this, being the first to break the staring, and directed his attention back to Max. 

“See you when I drop Henderson off. Don’t have too much fun.” He directed his last statement to Jess, shoving her arm lightly as he finished his sentence, flashing her a smile of acceptance to lighten the mood. He made sure to give Billy one last look of disapproval, though, before he turned back in the direction of his own car, shaking his head as he left them. 

Jess sighed as she watched her best friend leave. She had made it a point to hang out with Steve more this week, as there wasn’t much for her and Billy to do for their shared reading and she felt as if she had been blowing him off more the past week. However, she felt guilty when she would sometimes imagine what Billy was doing during her moments with Steve.

Considering his failed relationship with Nancy, a relationship that he sacrificed a decent amount of his friends for, she knew he needed her in a way. And the feeling was mutual. He had been the one person she could turn to after the haunting incidents from a year ago and again just a couple months ago. She knew she could never lose Steve. And yet, here she was, spending time with the one person Steve couldn’t stand. Throughout the week Steve had come to accept her and Billy’s strange partnership, which Jess always defended with, “we may as well get along for the project” or “he hasn’t been a total ass yet” occasionally sprinkled in their conversations. 

This thought also irritated Jess. She wasn’t able to do right by Steve, her best friend since moving to this town, when she secretly enjoyed Billy’s company. And she couldn’t do right by Billy, a boy who over the past weeks had shown just how great of a friend he could be when she constantly undermined his character around Steve. She began to realize she was running out of time, that she would have to be truthful eventually, and that she was on the verge of hurting someone’s feelings. But just like cleaning out her closet, she decided to push this task for later. After all, she wasn’t exactly lying, was she?

“Okay, Jess, I’m in.” Max’s voice ripped her from her thoughts as she turned back around to face the passenger side of Billy’s vehicle. 

“Oh, right.” Jess lowered herself in the seat, placing her bag on the floor of the car as she closed her door softly. Billy still had a smirk plastered on his face as he too watched Steve walk toward his car, but it fell when he shifted his head to Jess who was looking at him, mildly annoyed. 

“What?” 

“I know you’re just trying to piss him off.” 

“You don’t know shit, Jess.” Billy gave her a teasing smile as he reached toward the glove box to retrieve his Ray Bans. 

“I know he really doesn’t like you.” 

“Yeah, well.” He placed the glass on the bridge of his nose and pulled out of his parking spot, unphased by Jess’s statement. Jess tsked at his nonchalant behavior rolling her eyes slightly, turning up the radio for background music. “So what are you doing tonight, Logan? You’re not one of those freaks who chaperone are you?” 

Jess nudged his arm harder than intended. “I used to be, thank you very much. But no, not this year.” 

Billy laughed at how offended she was. “I’m just sayin’ I don’t understand why any normal teenager would want to spend their night doing that.” 

“It’s not that bad. It’s actually kind of nice.”

“Whatever you say, princess. You know, we haven’t broken in your ‘new’ TV yet.” Billy began to raise his eyebrows at her. “Let me take you to Family Video and actually pick out a good movie.” 

“I actually already watched Sixteen Candles this week in my room. So it is broken in.”

“Without me?” Billy pretended to be hurt by this fact, gasping at the end of his question for effect. “After I moved it to your room and everything?” 

“You don’t even like that movie.”

“I do!” Max spoke up from behind them, leaning in closer to the middle console as she scooted her body closer to their seats. 

Jess turned to face her, smiling triumphantly as she addressed her. “Well then maybe we should have a movie night.” She then eyed Billy smugly, insinuating he was the one who had shit taste in movies. Max bounced excitedly at the thought of this, realizing that she would have all the free time in the world this winter break. 

“Alright Logan, you let me pick one movie, and the rest can be all the corny chick flicks and sci-fi shit you pick out.” 

The three of them pulled into the Mayfield/Hargrove driveway, Billy turning off the ignition before turning to Jess. “Wanna come in for a bit, need to pick up my wallet and drop the kid off to get ready for the Shit Ball.” He flicked Max’s forehead as he said the last part, earning his hand a loud swat from Max. 

“The Snow Ball.”

“Whatever.” Jess once again rolled her eyes at their bickering and left the car, but before Jess could position the passenger seat to allow Max to leave comfortably, she instead climbed the middle console as she normally did in the mornings and stepped on the seat before crawling out. “Aye, watch the shoes shitbird.” Max ignored him, walking into the house first with her skateboard in hand. Jess and Billy quickly followed, Billy holding the door for them, closing it once they were all inside. Max quickly retreated to her room, Billy leading Jess to his. 

Billy walked straight to his mirror, which stood next to a table that had an assortment of colognes and an ashtray. His wallet was placed next to the tray. Billy thumbed through it to make sure its contents were still there and turned to see Jess standing by his dresser, eyeing what appeared to be a photo album. “Ah shit, forgot to put that away.” He began to grab for it, but instead of putting it away as he first intended, he opened it in front of her. “I guess I did promise to show you California, huh?” 

Billy flipped through the album and within seconds made it to pictures of his favorite beach. It looked exactly as Billy described last weekend. The sand looked so soft like it couldn’t possibly burn your feet even if you stepped on it on the hottest day. The ocean was crystal blue, white foam collecting at the edge where it met the shore. Jess looked at the picture at the bottom left and saw the same beach, but this time a beautiful woman was standing in the middle, smiling as bright as the sun that caused her to shield her eyes when taking the shot. 

“Is that…”

“My mom,” Billy confirmed. He stared at the picture with Jess, his face still as stone. 

“You look a lot like her,” Jess replied softly, afraid that the comparison would make him uncomfortable. Billy nodded his head. He knew this already. Everyone said it. 

Except Neil. 

“Yeah…” he whispered, his head nod accompanied by a melancholy smile. Jess turned the page slowly, allowing Billy time to stop her if he felt the need to. When the page was flipped, what she found instead of the same beach were birthday pictures, a young Billy posed in almost every one of them. She looked at the middle picture on the right page and saw Billy smiling behind a cake with five candles lit in a circle. The color of the frosting caught Jess’s attention, as it was a strange shade of purple with random blue streaks hidden in spots of the cake. 

“You like purple as a kid?” 

“What?”

“Your cake.” Jess watched as Billy’s eyes made his way toward the same picture, and then he began to shake his head. 

“No, uh, my favorite frosting’s strawberry.” He began to run his index finger over the cake lightly before pulling away again. “But, you know, strawberry frosting’s pink.  And my dad didn’t like that so much. Made my mom fix it. She was tryna turn it blue.” Billy then turned the page and directed Jess to another cake, this time it was a shade of bright red and had six candles that were not yet lit. “My dad didn’t like the purple too much either but said it was better than nothing.” He then let out a sad laugh as he kept his attention on the new cake.

“But the next year my mom changed the color. Perfected it, I guess. That’s kind of why red’s my favorite color now, got used to it every year.” However, this wasn’t entirely the case. The truth was, though he did favor red when buying certain clothing and objects for his room, he would much rather be able to say that pink was his favorite. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was due to the fact that he wasn’t allowed the color in his life. Maybe it was the way that he was envious Max was allowed it though she was able to choose not to like it. But he chose red, just like his mother did, and that would have to be enough. 

Before Jess could figure out how to respond to this, Billy began to navigate effortlessly through the pages again, where he found more recent pictures of himself and other teenagers who looked around his age at the same beach he showed her earlier. They stayed for a moment as he pointed out certain pictures and memories before he grabbed the album and plopped it on his bed, nodding toward it, indicating she should go sit. He went to the opposite side dropping himself down as well as he moved the album closer to the pair. Billy propped his upper half with his left elbow, his lower half draped off the right side of the bed. His head would have been on her lap if he hadn’t been holding himself up, making Jess shift nervously. They continued to look at pictures of the beach before Billy changed positions, allowing his eyes to meet hers. 

“So whatya think now, Logan, east coast or west coast.” Jess looked away from the pictures and down at Billy, who was already giving her a smug grin, looking up at her with a glint in his eye. 

“Mmm…” Jess then shrugged her right shoulder forward, rocking the upper half back and forth, teasing her uncertainty, “I guess California isn’t too bad.” 

Billy turned himself once again, facing the album, his arm now brushing against Jess’s leg as he continued to flip through the pages with his other hand. There were now pictures of carnival rides and games. Behind most of these pictures was a beach, but it was much more crowded than the beach Billy had been showing her. 

“Santa Cruz beach boardwalk,” Billy said as he continued to turn the pages. Lots of pictures were taken here, many of which had what looked to be an 8 or 9-year-old Billy throughout them. There was only one of what looked to be a younger Neil, still sporting the same mustache he had now. Unlike his son, he wasn’t smiling as he barely wrapped his arm around Billy for the picture. “My mom always wanted to visit the Bay Area.” 

They continued to look through the pictures, Billy attempting to only show her the pictures of things to do in the state of California and avoid pictures of his family and childhood home. It wasn’t until Billy glanced down at his wrist to look at the time when they decided to leave his room. “Better get goin’ if I’m picking the movie tonight, huh?” Billy playfully smacked Jess’s leg as he began to pull himself off the bed. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, jingling them in his hand as he made his way to his bedroom door. Jess left the album open on the bed as she followed him out of the room, both of them walking out the front door together. 

Billy walked toward the passenger door as he began to make a habit of opening it for Jess when she was riding with him. She remembered when she used to be annoyed by the gesture, but now she realized that she rather enjoyed it, allowing him to shut the door for her when she was secured inside. When he entered the car as well, he quickly peeled out of the driveway, ensuring they were no longer driving on Cherry Lane when Neil’s vehicle pulled in. 

They pulled into the parking lot for Family Video in record time, Billy wasting no time as he promptly exited the car. He began rounding the front of the Camaro but stopped when he watched Jess open her own door and exit just as quickly. Jess noticed where he was standing and looked back at the door before looking at Billy again. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“Didn’t I say I was a gentleman?” 

“Eh. You’re kind of on and off with it.” Jess smiled back at him as he shook his head. 

“Smart ass.”

Billy walked closely behind Jess as they entered the store, making a point to open the door for her before they did. She began to look around the store, beginning to walk toward the left. However, Billy grabbed her arm and began to steer her to the right of the store. “Wrong way, princess.” She looked in the direction of where he was leading her, and her eyes began to widen as she saw the section they were entering. 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Ah come on. I’ll be right there.” 

“Yeah. That makes me feel soooo much better.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

He let go of her arm and began thumbing through the horror movies, looking around to try and find something more interesting than what was already in front of him. He then looked over at Jess again, still expecting an answer to her earlier statement. 

“You seem like the type to try and scare me even more than the movie is going to.” 

“You should learn to trust me a little more, Logan.” He then held up two tapes and faced them toward her. “How about I let you choose.” Jess was now looking at Friday the 13th and Halloween II. 

“How about…” She mocked the way he spat out his last sentence “… neither.” After what happened in Hawkins, she would have thought her fear of horror movies would have subsided, that nothing could beat the fear of what she witnessed both last and this year. It was only a week before Halloween that Steve also attempted to watch Halloween II with her and Nancy, and instead of Nancy cuddling up to Steve as he intended, she was allowing Jess to hide behind her as she refused to look at the screen. Steve looked only slightly put out the rest of the movie, earning Jess the nickname “cock-block” for the rest of the week. 

“Alright then, smart ass.” He put back Halloween II, the movie Jess would have picked if she really had to, considering she had already “seen” it, and held the other tape in his right hand, beginning to steer Jess to the front counter with his left. 

“Are we really gonna watch that?” 

“I’ll let you pick out the snacks.” 

“Great...”

Billy successfully added the rented movie to his family’s account and the two of them left, Jess shuffling her feet a bit slower than usual, slightly less excited for tonight, not wanting to seem incredibly lame for her inability to watch the screen as the movie Billy picked out played.

As they left the parking lot, Billy drove passed the mini-mart everyone usually picked out snacks for a movie from Family Video, and instead began in the direction of the grocery store on the other side of town. Jess began to turn her head toward the mini-mart and began to open her mouth before Billy quickly interrupted.

“Can’t go there. The guy won’t sell to me.” 

“Won’t sell to… what do you mean ‘won’t sell to you’?”

Billy just gave her a mischievous grin and turned his attention back to the road. Jess then scoffed. “You really think we’re gonna be drinking in my room with my parents in the same house?” 

“Relax… it’s just for me. Unless you actually wanted some. Then whatever.” Jess just shook her head in response, failing to hide her smile as she pretended to disapprove. 

They arrived at the grocery store where Billy apparently had the “hookup”, a middle-aged man who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but there. Billy quickly went after a six-pack of American Colonial and then turned to Jess. “Whatever you want, princess.” 

“Whatever I want.” Jess repeated back, reassuring Billy that she will be getting just that. Considering that she would be forced to watch a movie that would cause Billy to tease her for the rest of Christmas break, she figured he owed her. She made her way to the candy isle first, grabbing a few Charleston chews bars and then a Twix bar. She handed these over to Billy, freeing up her hands as she walked over to the chips and crackers isle, grabbing a bag of Doritos and a package of room-temperature microwave popcorn. “You’re lucky I have drinks at the house,” she stated smugly and began walking toward the register Billy pointed out to her earlier. 

“Is that everything…” The middle-aged man, apparently named Brian, asked with a monotone voice. 

“Yup,” Billy responded, not looking back at the man until he slid his cash out of his wallet and handed it to him. 

“One thirty-two is…” 

“You can keep it big guy.” Billy grabbed the bag and the six-pack from the side of the register, nodding at Brian as he turned to leave. 

“Yippie…” Jess heard Brian sigh as they walked away. 

The ride to Cherry Lane was longer as this grocery store was not on the same side of town as their neighborhood was. When they eventually made it back home, it was beginning to get dark, which made Jess slightly anxious. 

“Shit, I think dinner’s done…” Jess began as she unclicked her seat belt and reached for the door handle. The original plan, as described by Billy, was for him to drop her and the goods off, park his Camaro back at his house, and wait a few hours before climbing her roof to her window. However, she looked back at Billy with something else in mind. “Do you… wanna maybe come in? For dinner I mean. I don’t think my parents will care. You can still come back later tonight.” 

Billy looked at her for a few moments, watching her nervously shift as she asked this question. It caused him to smile. If he were to tell her the truth, he would say how much he enjoyed the first time he ate dinner with her and her family, and how she would never have to ask if he wanted to do it again. All she would have to do was tell him he was welcome to. 

Instead, he dropped his smile and shrugged nonchalantly, looking away from her and to her front door. “I mean, I guess.” 

“You don’t have to if…” Billy was already out of the car, unwilling to have her finish that sentence. 

“Let’s get to it, Logan.” Billy was at her car door again, opening it as she grabbed the plastic bag from her feet. When her door was closed, she noticed that he had taken the six-pack out of the car with him. 

“You said that was for you!” She whispered harshly at him. 

“It is. For tonight.” He winked at her and positioned the pack at the bottom of the bag, covering it with the rest of the snacks. “Why do you think I asked for your shit to be double-bagged?” 

“Dammit, Billy.” 

“Better hurry upstairs.” He winked again, nudging her with his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll distract them. They love me.” 

He was right. For some strange reason, they had taken a major liking to him, especially since the TV incident. And to her dismay, her mother refused to stop talking about how Billy Hargrove was such a ‘nice boy’.

Yeah. Right.

Jess swiftly unlocked the front door and made her way to the stairs, movie in one hand, the now heavy plastic bag in the other. 

“Hey mom, I’m just gonna-“

“Oh hi, hun. Oh and Billy! What a wonderful surprise! Dinner’s about ready if you’re hungry dear.” 

Billy had obviously occupied her parents without even trying, giving Jess an ample amount of time to stash the bag before either of her parents even wondered what she had. When she made her way back downstairs Billy gave her a chum smile, accompanied by another wink as he made his way to the dining room. 

“Told you,” he whispered just loud enough for Jess to hear, both Mr. and Mrs. Logan scrambling around the kitchen. 

“Shut up.”

Dinner tonight was made up of skirt steak, Mrs. Logan’s famous garlic mashed potatoes as served last time Billy stayed for dinner, and an assortment of roasted vegetables. As usual, it was amazing. The silence that accompanied the occasional sound of silverware clanking against porcelain was soon interrupted by Mrs. Logan. 

“Oh! Billy!” Mrs. Logan took a drink from her wine glass before continuing as she captured the rest of the table’s attention. “So my husband has been talking to your father…” she smiled at Mr. Logan, missing Billy’s cringe at the mention of his dad. “They’ve been doing a lot of that at the bank, and the topic of Christmas came up.” She was now looking back at Billy and Jess, both their expressions confused. 

Mr. Logan cleared his throat, nodding as he was beginning to remember the conversation his wife was alluding to. “Right. So we normally do Christmas Eve with the Harrington’s and their boy Steve. He’s actually on the basketball team as well, I’m sure you know him.” 

The same mischievous smile from the car came back as he looked over at Jess quickly before turning his attention to her father. “Oh yeah. Harrington. We’re great friends.”

“Oh good. Figured you would be.” Billy glanced over at Jess again as she cleared her throat. “Well we were thinking, since your family is new into town, you guys live practically next door, and since you, Steve, and Jess seem to be friends, I invited your family over for Christmas Eve as well. We just do dinner and-“ 

Mr. Logan was interrupted by Jess choking on her steak. She reached out for her water and chugged a bit, clearing her airways before looking at her dad. Billy was covering his smile with his hand, his elbow propped up on the table, attempting to look unphased. 

“Sorry,” Jess coughed out. “D- do you think we’ll have enough room? I mean, we don’t have that many chairs and-“ 

“Oh don’t be silly, it’ll be fine. Besides, the table extends and I’m sure we’ll find some other chairs upstairs," Mrs. Logan butt in. Billy remembered the room upstairs with all the old, mismatched furniture, and wondered if any of those chairs would be in any condition to be sat on, considering most were missing legs. 

“Alright,” Jess said in a small voice, pushing her food around with her fork. It wasn’t the idea of having Billy over for Christmas Eve that made her uneasy, rather, the fact that she would be having Billy over for Christmas Eve with Steve Harrington. It will be a whole evening. A whole evening of Harrington and Hargrove in the same house. At the same table. And she would be in the middle of it. 

The vexatious glint in his eye was still there as he removed his hand from in front of his mouth and looked back and forth between her parents. “That sounds great. Can’t wait.” He then smiled over at Jess before bringing back his attention to his food and began to eat again. “By the way Mrs. Logan, dinner is amazing.”

Jess continued to sneak annoyed glances at Billy, who was smugly eating his dinner, apparently amused at what just happened. When everything was finished and both Billy and Jess brought the remaining dishes back to the kitchen, Billy once again spoke up. 

“Thank you so much for tonight, but I should get going soon. Again, Mrs. Logan, dinner was great.” 

“Well thank you for stopping by, don’t be a stranger!” Mrs. Logan called out to him. 

Billy strutted his way back to Jess, who was standing at the landing of her stairs by the entryway. As he reached out for the doorknob, he looked down at Jess, towering over her until he bent down so his lips were just at her ear. 

“See you tonight, gorgeous.”

@nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

[bebx]

"undoing this character's death would take away his sacrifice and character arc" girl I don't give a shit. I'm bringing him back through the power of ao3 fix-it fics and there's nothing you can do to stop me x

[writerstruggle]

nothing is better than a well-written heavy angst fic

[megameatymatt]

fuck the Grammys and fuck you too beyonce. yeah i said it, come get me hoe

justice for billie 💔

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

shoutout to all my fellow smut enjoyers

[angelsforthenight]

i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)

ways you can help gaza🇵🇸

summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)

cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao

you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.

ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.

you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so are.

you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.

“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.

since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.

after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.

a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.

seventeen minutes ago.

ellie liked your story

ellie liked your story

ellie replied to your story: doll face

ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏

a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….

y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3

y/n: (replied) oh word?

you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.

ellie: wooooord

ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁

ellie: come over

!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?

y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa

ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.

you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.

y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭

y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4

ellie: mmm nahhhh

you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.

y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off

ellie: i really don’t care

ellie: plsplspsls come over

ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓

next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.

y/n: i’m cominggg

ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇

though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.

“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”

“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.

“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.

“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.

“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.

“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.

“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.

“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.

you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”

“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.

“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”

“for my own good?”

“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.

“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.

once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.

“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.

“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.

“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”

“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…

ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.

“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.

“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.

“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.

“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?

“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.

“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.

“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”

“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”

“it’s only payback.” you shrug.

“for what?” ellie whines.

“for taking a week to text me.”

ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.

“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.

“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.

“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.

you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.

“someone’s real excited-“

“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.

ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.

“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.

“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.

“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.

“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.

ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.

her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.

her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.

“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.

“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…

“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.

“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.

one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.

you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.

“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.

“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.

“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.

“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”

“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.

a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!

[chrissv4mp]

♱ SOUNDS BETTER

"m'wife's so pretty," she whispers to herself, but you hear. saying you were soaked was an understatement.

WARNINGS. SMUT, breeding kink, cum-filled strap, strap in v, subtop!billie × dombottom!reader, nipple play, pet names, use of y/n a few times, fluff.

SYPNOSIS. when the topic of whose last name one of you would be taking after marriage comes up, billie finds herself in a rather... sticky situation.

LETTERS. i hate this okay bye 💔💔💔

"y/n o'connell," billie murmurs from her place at the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off while her body lays comfortably on the mattress. she rolls onto her stomach, resting her elbows on the bed so that she can lay her chin on her palms, "rolls right off the tongue." she giggles.

you shoot a smirk that matches her own cheeky one, your back resting against the headboard as your legs rested crossed over each other.

"yeah, but billie y/l/n sounds pretty good as well, no?" you ask, voice higher than usual. whenever you and billie landed on this topic, you always got so excited, and she was quite aware of that.

she shrugs, wiggling her entire body onto the bed and crawling over to you slowly. billie takes her lower lip between her teeth, blue eyes fixated on your own e/c ones. she straddles your lap, and you stretch your legs out straight so that she can sit comfortably, hands coming to her hips to pull her closer.

your smile grows as billie's hands cup your face, her thumbs—both adorned with rings—caress your cheeks gently. her smile fades, but you know she's still very much comfortable and happy in your presence. the cool metal of her rings on your warm skin makes you shiver, and when billie realizes, her smile comes back instantly.

in just a few seconds, billie manages to remove your hand from her hip, slip a ring off the ring finger of her right hand, and smoothly push it onto your own ring finger. she examines your hand for a long moment, her hand gripping your wrist possessively as she takes in the sight.

"a little loose, but..." billie speaks, voice quiet. her eyes flick back to yours, and this time, you catch the desire and longing swirling in her eyes—those pretty blue ones that always had you in a trance, "i think it looks pretty good on you," she whispers, eyes slowly moving down to your lips.

"mrs. o'connell." she adds, a lazy smile tugging at her pretty lips. your other hand squeezes her hip gently as you bite the inside of your cheek. it was taking all of her willpower not to beg right now.

you shake your head with a quiet chuckle, leaning closer to her face. billie quickly closes the distance between you two when she realizes. her hand moves to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat to pull you closer. she scoots closer to your body, her heart beating rapidly and her head spinning.

just the taste of your lips had her going insane, hips rutting against yours so that you could feel the strap she'd hidden beneath her boxers earlier that morning. you groan against her lips, and billie swallows the noise with pride, smiling against you as her tongue swipes along your lower lip.

you allow her tongue into your mouth happily, ears picking up on her needy whines as you fight against the wet muscle. in the end, you win, but billie doesn't give up her role that easily. reluctantly, she pulls away from your lips—but not without dragging your lip between her teeth, the action that always had you soaked, even more than you already were.

her hands leave your face, fingers brushing against the skin of your cheeks before trailing down your half-naked body—thank god you both only slept in your undergarments. her touch leaves a trail of fire behind, only adding to the aching feeling between your thighs. her eyes never leave yours, even as she reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra.

you let the straps fall off your shoulders, leaving billie to rip the piece of fabric from your arms, throwing it somewhere around the room. she practically drools at the sight of your tits on display for her, her hand coming back up to knead one of your boobs while her lips latch onto your other nipple. a soft whimper leaves her, eyes rolling back before shutting closed.

your fingers tangle themselves in her black strands, tugging at her roots and causing billie to moan against your skin. she clings to you like you're her lifeline, fingers digging into your breast so firmly yet with such care, her thumb rubbing circles along your nipple as she suckles on the other. it feels like she's in heaven, her head spinning with nothing but the image of you beneath her.

when she pulls away from your nipple, a thin strand of saliva forms, and billie licks her lips hungrily before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, stopping when she reaches the waistband of your panties. her eyes flick back up to yours, staring at you through her lashes, asking silently for permission to take the thin piece of fabric off of you.

"take 'em off, pretty." you whisper, voice quiet and breathy from how worked up billie had you already. your tone makes her shiver, and she wastes no time, fingers looping in the thin, pink waistband and tugging them down your thighs, legs, and ankles before throwing them to the side like she did your bra.

billie whines softly at just the scent of your arousal, scooting closer and taking her place between your legs, "m'wife's so pretty," she whispers to herself, but you hear. saying you were soaked was an understatement.

her finger glides through your folds, lips parting to let out a quiet sound of surprise at how drenched you were. she grinds against the mattress, the base of the strap-on rubbing against her clit perfectly. her cheek rests against your inner thigh, her breath fanning across your pussy.

you chuckle gently at her needy actions, your hands running down your body to grab handfuls of her hair again. she raises her head again, getting the memo whenever you nod your head in her direction. who was she to disobey her (soon-to-be) wife?

she pulls away from your pussy with a sad whine, eyes locked on your folds as she scoots off the bed to rid herself of her boxers. she steps out of them, the indigo cock standing proudly between her legs. her face flushes in embarrassment as she catches your gaze, her eyes leaving your body as she crawls back on the bed with her head hanging low.

both billie's index and middle fingers come up to her lips, spitting softly. you watch as the saliva drips down her lengthy fingers, your pussy clenching as she lowers her hand onto the strap-on, pumping the large cock in her hand. you huff impatiently, rutting your hips up against the nothing. a silent plea—or, more so, demand—for her to hurry up.

billie nods in understanding, biting her bottom lip harshly as she crawls even closer, her hands moving down to push your thighs even further apart. her eyes are locked on your soaked pussy, enamored by the way you clench around nothing. her heart beats faster in her chest as she lines up the tip of the strap-on with your entrance, breathing getting heavier at the anticipation.

"bil, hurry." you command quietly, your hands coming around to grab at her back, sneakily undoing the clasp on her bra. she bites her lip even harder when she realizes the straps slowly sliding down her shoulders, helping you by taking it off completely and throwing it to the side.

"jus—wait, baby," she murmurs, clit twitching at the sounds of your labored breaths and the faint smell of your perfume. her head hangs low, eyes fluttering closed as she thrusts her cock into your core slowly, her movements gentle as she whimpers, "fuck, ma—can you imagine how much better this'll feel on our wedding day?" she babbles, smiling at the thought.

you throw your head back against the soft pillows, her words barely registering in your head as you feel her splitting you open on her cock. your nails dig into her back, pulling her closer in the process and feeling her chest press against your own. the mix of billie's whimpers and your moans fills the room and both of your guys' ears.

one of billie's hands leaves your thigh as she begins to see a perfect pace—one that's not too fast, but not too slow either. her ring-clad fingers drag across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake before she reaches your arm and pulls one of your hands from her back. billie pulls away slightly, kissing down your body until she reaches your nipple, taking the erect bud between her lips again.

"jus' like that, love," you praise, mouth falling open into an 'o' shape. your eyebrows furrow as billie thrusts deeper, not even noticing whenever she interlocks your fingers with hers—until you squeeze and feel her large hand squeeze back, "shit, you're such a good girl." you moan.

billie moans against your skin at the name, hips rutting into yours faster. her hand on your thigh spreads you further apart, fingers digging into your supple skin as she suckles on your nipple. the combined stimulation of her cock rubbing against your walls and her lips on your tit makes you feel like you're on another planet—drunk off of her.

"gonna make you m'wife," she mumbles, releasing your nipple with a 'pop' before she continues, "then 'm'gonna make you a mommy." she says, voice laced with nothing but lust and adoration for you and you only. billie lets her head rest in the crook of your neck, placing gentle, open mouthed kisses on your sweaty skin.

at her words, you finally realize that she's fuckjng you with her special strap—one that she rarely used, but it was still her favorite, "s'one?—fuck, y'know how much i love 'ts one, bil." you breathe, nails dragging down her back and leaving a trail of red marks.

she hisses softly at the pain, nipping down on your neck in response before she feels a light slap on her back, "sorry—sorry, didn't mean to." billie babbles, soothing the sting with her warm, wet tongue.

"y'close, mama?" she asks next, voice whiny and broken as she feels her own orgasm approaching. her hips rock the silicone cock deeper into your pussy with each thrust, the base brushing her clit and sending shocks all throughout her hot, trembling body, "please. please, want'chu you t'cum for me." she begs, eyebrows furrowing as her hand leaves yours reluctantly.

her fingertips brush against your sweaty skin, your hips bucking in response before her touch is gone again. your jaw somehow drops lower as billie begins to rub tight circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, your nails digging into billie's back harder than before and definitely drawing blood.

billie didn't care. the only thing that mattered to her was getting you off, making you hers, and making you a mommy—even if it wasn't scientifically possible, who cared? not billie, that's for sure.

"fuck, baby, you're gonna make me—!" you cut yourself off with a gasp as she bites down softly on your nipple, sending shivers all throughout your body, "god, 'm'gonna cum, bil!" you warn, pulling her closer to your body once again, making her cock slide deeper between your walls—if that was even possible.

"please. please, sweetheart." she begs in that whiny tone of hers, and that was what finally did it for you. the knot in your stomach snapped instantly, and billie was quick to reach down between your two bodies, squeezing the base of her cock and releasing the fake cum into your tight walls. you almost lost it at the feeling.

billie helps you ride out your high, grunting gently into your ear and muttering, "you're gonna have my babies as soon as we get married, baby. gonna—gonna make you mine. all, fuck, all mine." she stutters, her own orgasm approaching as her thrusts get sloppier and sloppier with every second.

"c'mon, pretty," you breathe into her ear, your hand leaving her back to run your fingers through her hair. that simple motion gives her the final push she needed, her own orgasm hitting her in waves of pleasure as she slowly thrusts into you, "that's a good girl." you praise, and billie cries out.

her hips don't stop, though, slowly and slowly getting faster despite her oversensitive clit. she trembles above you, wanting—needing to fill you up again, although you were already leaking with both your cum and her own, "wan' more," she mumbles.

"jus' a few more f'you." she says it as more of a statement than an ask, and you can't deny her, not when she's giving you those pretty puppy eyes and pouting her lips.

"mrs. o'connell, mrs. o'connell, mrs. o'connell," she repeats it like a prayer, her hips rutting roughly against yours as she whimpers quietly. she was gonna marry you. she didn't know when, but she knew that she was definitely gonna put a ring on it.

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[toxicanonymity]

EVERY INCH 4

SERIES MASTERLIST | SLASHERS MASTERLIST PAIRINGS: ghostface x f!reader; dark javi x f!reader LENGTH: ~6.6k words. The next one will be shorter.

SUMMARY: after what you did on the metro, you're ashamed and paranoid. javi crosses a line. ghostface does something he's never done before. so do you.

WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon, piv and various acts, references to noncon, somno, drugs, degradation, dirty talk, angst/shame, yearning, breeding & "daddy" kinks, descriptions of (not actual) pregnancy. Restraints, blindfold. And idk, it gets weird. Anonymous ghostface. We enjoy surprises in this series, soo WRITER CHOOSES NOT TO WARN IN FULL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

A/N: Thank you for your patience and enthusiasm and omg all the love on the fics 🖤. Thank you negraarmadura (@theblackarmor) for your valuable input and inspiration. Also, @lunitawrites can shoulder some blame for the excessive breeding kink. Ty @saradika for the dividers.

🚨 FIC ART: banger collage by @aurorawritestoescape and action packed movie trailer by @carminepoison

Overnight, your fury and humiliation fades into gloom and confusion. Ghostface. You wake up itchy and dehydrated. 

You never imagined things would go this far. You should kill him, right? Ghostface? Don’t you have to? Think about what he did to you. What he made you do. You should kill him, but you don't have the energy. And you're too angry at yourself to have much ire for anyone else. 

Ghostface, a notoriously brutal killer, called you a serial rapist, and he wasn’t even really lying. How much of the metro disaster was planned? Did Ghostface orchestrate it, or did he simply seize the opportunity to watch, fascinated by your blind lust and rage? 

You didn't want to know. As long as you weren't certain, you still had that little sliver hope that you didn't rape a stranger at gunpoint all on your own. But either way, you did hold the gun. Either way, you took the man’s dick out and degraded him as you forced yourself on him in the middle of a public train. Lost in the moment. Feeling like it was just you and him, Ghostface. Until it wasn’t.

The day after the metro, it feels like everybody knows what you did. Every time you close your eyes, images of crowds on train platforms blur through your mind. An infinite audience to your terrible crime. 

You stay in bed, frozen, not wanting to face reality. Telling yourself it’s a dream. Sleeping off and on. Batting away uncomfortable thoughts–like when will you see Ghostface again? Is he going to call you? What will you do? You can’t get him off your mind. 

Two mornings after the metro, you drag yourself out of bed, then out into the world. At the grocery store, you bump into your older pothead neighbor, and he asks if you're okay. Your heart races, thinking he must know. It takes you a moment to remember why he’s asking – your friend Marla was stabbed to death just days ago, and she wasn't the first.  

In the checkout line, you space out until a man’s voice jars you from your trance. You apologize and put your items on the conveyor belt. When you’re just about to pay, you receive a text message from an unknown number, a fact which on its own makes your tummy tingle. When you read the text, your whole body turns hot: 

I’ll split your ass like a tangerine. 

The words land straight between your legs. As the grocer hands you your bags, he asks if you’re okay. You shake yourself out of it and nod.  The grocer wishes you good luck. At least, that’s what you think he says. Good luck not getting caught? Good luck not getting killed? Good luck with what? You decide you must have imagined it. 

In the parking lot, before heading home, you sit in your car for a few minutes, spaced out, wondering if you'll ever be able to go out in public again without feeling like this. Like everyone knows something awful about you.

On the way home, you can't get your phone to charge. You’re fiddling with the cord when blue lights flash in your rearview mirror, making your stomach drop. The lights turn off only after you're parked on the grass shoulder of the two lane road. 

Every second feels like a minute until a tall, blonde cop in aviators gets out of his car, stretches, and strides over like he has all the time in the world.  You roll down the window. He plants two huge hands on the top of your car and ducks down to look at you. For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything, just leisurely chews his gum. 

Then, he shifts his stance and asks, “How ya doin’, ma’am?”  Deep voice, smooth as butter. 

Out of nowhere, you feel on the verge of tears. Avoiding your reflection in his shades, you swallow the knot in your throat and answer, “fine.” 

He stops chewing and asks,“Yeah? You sure?”

You suck your lips together and nod. 

He looks from you to the groceries in your front seat and the mess of junk in the back, then asks, “Where ya headed?”

“Home.”

He bobs his head in understanding and glances down the road, chewing his gum again. 

Your heart continues to race as you watch his face for a long moment of silence. Finally, he speaks. “Well, put your fuckin’ phone down for me.” He raises his eyebrows and tips his shades forward, forcing his sky blue eyes on you. “‘k, darlin’?”

Your lips part, and you forget to blink until he winks at you and flashes a smile. Then you nod and mumble, “Uh. Yeah, sorry.” 

He fixes his aviators back. “Careful out there, ‘k?” After a nod and a casual tap on your roof, he walks off. You watch him in the rear view mirror.  

Are his legs that long, or is it the monochrome outfit? He adjusts his belt before getting in his car. Your chest bubbles with interest, attraction, and you curse yourself under your breath. 

At home, you try to distract yourself by watching a show, but it’s just not possible. After what he did—what you did–on the train, you’re terrified to know what’s next. What you might do next in this absurd state you find yourself in where he consumes your every thought. And it hits you, the sickest part of all—why you attacked who you thought was Ghostface. Not because Ghostface attacked you, not because he tried to kill you, but because he left you after getting you worked up. Ghostface walked away from you. He left you alone and alive in that alley, and it upset you. 

You find yourself at the bizarre revelation that you and Ghostface are the only people in your world that feel real right now. You’re inextricably linked. He’s the only one who really knows you. He knows your darkness. 

Are you the only one who really knows him, too?

Your phone dings with a text. It’s a political campaign, but you take the opportunity to re-read:

I’ll split your ass like a tangerine.

It gives you butterflies. It sounds like him. It has to be him. That’s the only thing that helps you relax.

(Some hours and a nap later. . .)

"What would you do if you had Ghostface cornered," Javi asks, sitting back and manspreading next to you on your sofa. He's nursing a Mike's Hard Lemonade from a case he brought and crammed into your fridge, pushing aside expired condiments and old takeout containers. 

You should never have let Officer Javi in when he knocked on your door. “Heard ya had a rough day,” he had remarked. “Pulled over?” he raised his eyebrows. There was something about him that made you uneasy, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice, so you opened the door.

It was impossible to miss the way he sniffed the air after crossing the threshold. You imagined he was smelling the cum of Ghostface and amateur Ghostface, even two days and several showers later. 

Pulling yourself back into the moment at hand – Javi’s question isn’t easy – what would you do if you had Ghostface cornered? What would a normal person do? 

You ask, "if I had him cornered?"

"What, you wouldn't do anything?" Javi challenges you. 

"I wouldn't get within ten feet of him," you claim. 

Javi chuckles skeptically. "You wouldn't kill him?" 

“No. . . .should I?”

"I think you have it in you,” Javi replies, then drops his voice. “Or you want it in you." 

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t let it go. You challenge him, "What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to be a victim. You're determined not to be." 

In a gesture that could pass for reassurance, Javi’s cold, broad hand rests just above your bare knee for a moment. Then he trails his fingers up your thigh, all the way to the hem of your shorts, close to where you’re now tingling. 

His voice goes down in pitch and volume.  "It's an attractive quality. . . Your lust for control." His face is dark with lust. 

You take his hand off your thigh and place it on his own leg. 

“See? ” he asks with a condescending twitch of his mustache in the corner of your eye.  

"Pervert," you mutter.

"You wouldn't shoot Ghostface with my gun?" Javi glances down at himself. Eyes following his gaze, you do a double take at the shape in his tight pants. 

Shame prickles your face, and you swallow as you admit, "Your gun was stolen." 

"I know," Javi nods with just the hint of a smile. "It was turned in." 

With an air of nonchalance, he takes the gun out of the back of his pants. He subtly rubs the side of the barrel against his hard cock as he pretends to inspect the firearm before setting it on the coffee table. "Now you can shoot him.”

He watches you look at the gun on your coffee table. The one that was buried in your cunt less than 48 hours ago. Javi continues, “But you won't shoot him, will you?"

"No," you agree. 

"Don't want him to leave you alone."

"No," you argue, mouth getting dry. “That’s ridiculous.”

"Oh,” Javi seems to be acting. “Too scared to shoot a gun?  We'll practice."

“No,” you shake your head, then ask, "How do I know he's the right one? The one who’s cornered?" 

"Ah," A smile creeps across his face. "The real Ghostface, and not just some guy in a Stab costume? " He raises an eyebrow. 

Over the next few seconds, your face goes ice cold.

"Shhh. It's okay,” Javi rests a hand on your back, then rubs it slowly. “I know, sweetheart.” 

He knows what? Is he involved in this somehow? Your question spills out before you can stop it. “What are you getting at? What did you do?”

The large palm on your back slows to a halt between your shoulder blades. Javi pouts in contemplation, looking at the ceiling like he's racking his brain. Another twitch of his mustache. Before meeting your eyes again, he subtly shakes his head, "Nothing," then bends forward, picks up your drink, and hands it to you. He puts his hand on your back again, lazily caressing it with his knuckles this time. 

Trying to calm yourself down, you take a sip. He nods encouragingly. 

You ask, "Are you even a cop?"

"Yeah, I’m a cop," he laughs. 

“Okay, pig. Who’s your supervisor?”

Javi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Ouch! ” 

Another sip of your drink. 

“Good girl,” he whispers as he watches you swallow. His eyes are right on your throat. The tingle simmers between your legs. Javi’s hand slides up your back to slowly rub the nape of your neck with his thumb and fingers while his hungry eyes scan you head to toe. How hard is he right now? You don’t allow yourself the glance.

“Listen sweetheart,” his tone shifts,  “I can’t make this any easier on you.” His thumb gently glides over the peach fuzz on your neck.

“Make what easier?”

Javi’s only acknowledgement of your question is to breathe out a small laugh, then continue, “But I can make it harder.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It’s in your best interest if I keep you company tonight.” 

With Javi’s crotch tugging at your peripheral vision, a mild arousal stirs in your gut, but you muster a look of disgust. “Or what?”

“Let’s not find out, ” he threatens. 

You scowl and take another sip, catching a flash of satisfaction in his dark eyes. He continues to caress the back of your neck, then says, “Unless you want to find out.” 

His thumb freezes right in the dip at the base of your skull. “Maybe I read you wrong. Maybe you do want to be a victim.”  He taps his thumb twice and takes his hand away. His dark eyes scan your face as he reaches for the remote control.  

Are you paranoid, or does he know something? You no longer trust yourself to see things as they are. You pray he’s just a creep, taking advantage of his assignment to protect you. If he were a worse looking creep, you might be more concerned. 

Two hard lemonades later, you’re lying on your side on the couch, watching Rosemary’s Baby with Javi spooning you and lightly caressing your lower abdomen, right at the top of your shorts.  

“Are you on birth control? ” he asks, which catches you off guard and makes your face and insides tingle.  

“Yeah, gonna put that in your report?” you answer. 

“Mm,” he sighs. “Bet you take it real well, too.” 

A pool is forming in your panties. 

“Same time every day? ” He doesn't wait for an answer before adding, “Even with all this going on? ”

No response from you.

With the softest flick of his thumb, he unbuttons your shorts. 

“You really think i’m going to fuck you, don’t you?” you ask as his hand plunges into your panties. At least those are fresh. Or they were. 

When Javi’s fingers reach your wetness, he groans softly. “I told you, sweetheart. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Rubbing circles over your most sensitive place, he lightly grinds his hardening dick against your backside. The warm pressure of his arousal makes you throb. 

This goes on for a minute, then he cruelly slides his hand out of your shorts. He smells his fingers. The crudeness makes you twitch and seethe. A moment later, he’s urgently tugging down your shorts. His forearm vein bulges as he wedges his hand between your legs again. Your knees open for him, you can’t help it. His cock is pressing so hard against your ass, throbbing for you. He’s rubbing you at a steady, desirous rhythm, and your body is helping your mind forget everything. 

Need is rushing through your blood. The only thing you can see is a climax in sight.  Your insides swell and throb for him. You think about his cock, you want his cock, but no, you’re not going to give a pig that honor. This will have to do. 

He breathes heavier, and so do you. Your hips move with his rhythm. Every once in a while, his middle finger goes down and teases your hole as he gathers more slick to bring upward. Then one time, his finger stays at your entrance. He wriggles the tip of his middle digit into you, then plunges it in with a grunt, as far as he can get. 

He pumps his finger and grinds his palm against your clit. Your hips begin to rock into his hand. He mutters, “mierda” (shit), to himself as he slides his ring finger in. His thick digits stay buried inside. His cock twitches, and he calms himself, slowing down. A moan slips out of your mouth when you’re on the edge, desperate for release. 

“You want this, don’t you? ” he sides an arm under your neck and across your breasts to pull you tight against him. The swell of his cock sends a wave of pleasure upward, through your chest. 

“No,” you choke out, but your hips roll into his hand. 

“If you want to cum, all you have to do is ask.”

“Fuck you,” you manage between heavy breaths. You’re almost there. Then, you grab his hand and hold it still against your cunt as you send yourself over the edge, grinding against his palm, gasping vocally, spasming against his hand, pathetically trying to hold back your moans. 

As it fades, you want more. Of course you want more. But you won’t give him the satisfaction. 

You wriggle out of his embrace to sit up and kick your shorts off your ankles. 

“I’m going to wash the cop off me,” you mutter in self-disgust. 

Javi is bemused. “He doesn’t make you ask, huh? ” 

Heat rises to your face. You stand up and don’t even look at him. “Fuck you, Javi,” you mutter. 

“Does he even make you cum? ”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you lie. 

Javi stands up, braces his thumbs on his lower back,  and pushes his hips forward in a stretch. A spot of precum on his pants draws your eye as he steps forward, his engorged dick straining to get out.  

After his stretch, he steps forward. His jaw clenches and his eyes are cold. He takes your jaw in his hand and looks from your lips to your eyes and back.  “Everyone’s going to know who I’m talking about if you’re not careful.”

Your stomach drops, but you manage not to show it, you think. “Be gone when I’m out of the shower,” you warn as if you could do anything about it. 

“Suit yourself,” he smiles slightly. “This time.” He adjusts himself with his dry hand. 

You give him one last glare. Then, your eyes fall to his hand, where he’s inspecting his two wet fingers, glimmering in the low light of the movie credits. His mustache twitches, and he walks in the opposite direction of your front door. You don’t bother redirecting him. You’re just glad he’s leaving when he exits out the back.

In the shower, you start to feel woozy. Did you drink more than you realized, or did Javi slip you something? It could have been either.  You end the shower sooner than you otherwise might, wrap yourself in a robe and lay on your bed. Aching to be filled, you think about retrieving a toy from your nightstand, but your sudden fatigue wins over.  Not getting off to the thought of Ghostface is a victory, even if it’s on a technicality. Instead, you fall asleep, thinking about the only man you’ve thought about for weeks. 

Your dreams are wild. 

Ghostface is working at a grocery store, with his mask on. He has a black button down shirt under a long black apron with a name tag that says Daddy. He’s rolling up his sleeves as he walks toward customer service. It feels like he runs the place. He stops in his tracks when he sees you. You stand frozen as he approaches swiftly. He grabs you roughly by the elbow and marches you toward the produce section as if you shouldn’t even be there at the store. 

He bends you over a crate of citrus fruit, and a fake thunderstorm booms from a nearby produce cooler as the vegetables get misted.

Standing behind you, holding you down on the fruit with one hand, he kicks your ankles to spread your feet open, exposing your cunt to the cool air. “You couldn't wait, could you?”  He asks, hiking up your dress. You aren't wearing anything under it. “Couldn’t wait for Daddy to get home...” 

There's a surge of need at the crux of your thighs, and you eagerly await his cock. Instead, what you feel is the cool, taut skin of a lime gliding against your dripping pussy. 

He slides the fruit up and down your dripping seam and pauses to grind it against your clit. The man knows what he’s doing. You throb and twitch and sigh as the smooth skin of the lime warms up. 

“That’s right, princess.” He wedges your legs further apart, so far apart the stretch burns. Then he resumes his work with the fruit. 

One end of the lime teases your entrance, then he pushes it into you. Your body sucks it up with ease and spasms around it. 

“Good girl.” His hand remains between your legs, hooking under your body to reach your clit. You whine as he rubs your sweet spot. The lime seems to thrust inside you with each rub of his hand against your front. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

He makes you cum on the lime, and with each of your spasms, your body sucks the fruit further into your channel. 

As your orgasm fades, Ghostface zip ties your hands over your head, fixing them to the sale sign in the middle of the produce crate. He leaves you with your dress still pulled up, ass and cunt exposed, twitching with aftershocks. 

“Please, wait,” You beg him to come back. 

Another worker notices you and fails to hide his erection. The man’s face is pink and spellbound. He stands there and rubs himself through his pants. He looks around furtively as he does it, watching you. And you’re a vision — pathetically bent over the fruit, spread wide open, moaning and whining for your man to come back and fuck you raw. 

A new sensation eclipses your awareness of the small audience. It begins to feel like the lime is growing in your womb, spreading your insides apart. You're increasingly aroused, feeling less and less control over your body as it swells with desire. You find yourself wishing for anyone to shove himself inside you—staff or customer. If only anyone with a cock would stop and use you. Please, you think to yourself. “Please,” you whimper out loud. You’re desperate to cum again, desperate to relieve all this pressure building in your belly. 

An older man approaches, undoing his belt, and he looks you over as he runs his hand over the outline of his erection, deciding what to do with you. He gets close enough to spread your cheeks and examine your cunt. Your hole tremors at his touch, and you whimper. You can feel from the air that you are spread wide open. It feels like you’re going to split at the seam. After examining your parts, the man mutters, “oh,” before deciding against it and walking away. 

Your whole torso feels like it could burst with the amount of tension swelling inside you. Your nipples are tight and sensitive, and you feel one of them bare against an orange under your chest. You look down to see your breasts, noticeably swollen, falling out of your dress. 

The fruit beneath you begins to dig into your tummy and it hurts. It's too much, paired with the aching need between your legs.  You cry out, and the other worker pages the general manager, Ghostface, over the intercom. 

-

When Ghostface returns, he snips your zip ties then roughly flips you over so you're face-up on a big pile of fruit. He ties your hands over your head again, this time using a plastic produce bag. 

“Well, look at my pumpkin,” he admires your body as he removes his gloves. Until you see the way his mask seems to stare at your middle, you don’t realize your midriff is exposed. Your dress has ridden up over your belly, which is rounder than before. It feels tight and distended, and you just feel so full.  He places both hands on your belly, feeling your shape. When you look down, you hardly recognize yourself. Your nipples are leaking. The one still in your top is creating a wet spot. Your other breast has broken containment completely. 

“What did you do to me,” you demand, with Ghostface massaging your belly tenderly. 

He groans and reaches up with one hand. Suddenly he clamps his hand over your eyes. The next thing you feel is a mouth sucking at your exposed tit. It feels amazing, all the tension rushing out of your breast, along with the stimulation of his tongue. He breaks away with a moan. 

“I knew you'd be delicious.”

So much pressure is built up inside you, you're dying to cum. He holds you by both your sides. You’re painfully spread open, inner thigh muscles aching. He puts himself between your legs. He grinds himself against you, and it makes your walls clench and convulse almost instantly with a groan that echoes. 

He pulls his hips back and watches between your legs as you surrender to another orgasm. “Look at you, drizzled all over the fruit,” he marvels as he watches your fluttering hole. With each wave, you feel your belly and breasts swell a little more until you feel and look like you're in your third trimester. 

“Please make it stop,” you beg.  It feels so good, but you don’t want your body like this.

He rubs at your dripping cunt, his flattened fingers gliding soothingly between your puffy folds. Soon, you're grinding against his hand. 

“Please,” you beg. “Take it out, take the lime out.”

“Might be too late, angel.” 

“Please try.” 

He relents and wedges three fingers together. The fingertips tease your dilated hole, then his three thick digits slide right in, the ease of it making him groan. The obscene squelching practically echoes as he fucks you with three fingers, and soon he adds a fourth. Your body accepts him, and welcomes the addition of his thumb. Soon his hand is reaching deep inside you, fist and forearm flexing as he searches for the lime. 

“Daddy’s trying, baby.”

Your body hugs his hand. “Please,” you cry, tears running down your face, from pleasure and pressure more than pain. 

“Let me see,” he muses to himself as he withdraws his hand and moves a finger down to your asshole. He teases the rim of it and you feel it open up for him like the rest of your body. Then he slides two dripping fingers in. With his fingers buried in your ass, you feel some relief. You breathe with the rhythm of his fingers, but when you see your belly heaving with each breath, you remember. “Please, please put me back to normal.” 

Ghostface sighs. “Are you sure, princess?” His fingers slide out of your asshole. 

“Yes,” you insist. 

He crouches down, puts your legs over his shoulders, and positions himself with his mask right at your cunt. He rests his dry hand on your belly, and his wet hand grips his mask at the edges. 

Just as he goes to take the mask off, the whole scene melts into a moving mosaic of fleeting thoughts. 

Everything but the pleasure fades away. 

Everything but the pleasure. . . and the feeling of being spread wide open. . . and your legs over someone’s strong shoulders. . .

Yes, there’s a head between your thighs, two strong hands holding you open, and a hungry mouth feasting on you with abandon. He’s grunting into your cunt with his tongue intruding into your deepest places, making your insides hum with need. 

Did Javi never leave? It doesn’t exactly sound like Javi. Javi is far too measured to be so—ohh, God, that feels good. It feels so good, you barely notice that you’re blindfolded. Or that your wrists are tied above your head, securing you to the bed frame. 

He licks up your cunt to suck at your clit, and he does it well. Fuck. A moan slips out, muffled by something damp and lacy. Your mouth is sore and gagged.  Your heart races as he sucks, and your sensitive nub swells with pressure. 

You’re still waking up, and your traitorous hips are grinding into his face. You’re close. His hands are on your thighs. You’re on the edge of climax, trying not to make any sound or sudden movements. 

When his tongue slips down to your asshole, you flinch. You squirm, but the hands hold you still. His thumbs spread your cheeks, and he licks a wide circle around the rim, getting closer and closer until his tongue is teasing your hole. 

Your nose twitches. You sniff the air, and breathe a shameful sigh of relief. It’s not Javi. It’s him. Thank God, it’s him. And it smells like he smoked in your room.

Ghostface pauses to mutter, “Good girl,” and the voice comes from between your legs, and from your right, as though he’s separated from the voice changer. 

And separated from his mask. Wow. You never thought he’d— his warm mouth returns to your ass, and he thrusts his tongue into you. A pit in your gut deepens with each thrust of his tongue. Your eyelashes flutter against the folded bandana that covers your eyes. 

You grunt and whine into the gag, then he begins to rub your clit while his tongue is buried in your ass. Before long, the tension snaps, and your vision goes from black to white. A muffled moan marks the start of your peak. His tongue slides out, and your body jerks with each spasm. 

“Attagirl,” you hear from both directions.

As you finish coming, he lays a cheek on one thigh and a hand on the other, stroking your skin with his thumb. 

“You were on a silver platter, princess. I had to take a bite.” Your nipples harden—you’re naked and your sweat is cooling. “You know how it is.” You don’t try to respond. “Had a feeling you wouldn’t mind,” he taunts. “And ohhh, Pumpkin. We’ve been having *fun*.” 

Can’t exactly ask what he’s been up to with a mouth full of your own panties. But you wriggle and groan in disapproval.  His face lifts off your thigh, and his hands are quick to hold you down and keep you still.

“Yeah, yeah,” he acknowledges your halfhearted effort, and you stop resisting. The fact that you both see through this charade puts you more at ease somehow. 

When you feel his breath on your hip, it’s clear he’s not done, and you’re not mad about it. You’re in a daze—Ghostface is in your room, unmasked. Between your legs. 

His teeth press into your skin, then his lips. He sucks hard, then harder, and the bruising suction makes you throb. You grunt into the panty gag. He releases your skin, then drags his lips to your mound. 

He licks up your mound and presses wet, hungry, open-mouth kisses along your exposed torso, licking upward between each kiss, all the way to your breast where he pauses to suck and moan into it. You whine into the gag as your nipple hardens in his mouth and you gush and throb.

He drags his tongue up your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The closer his head gets to yours, the more clearly you can smell him - his unique blend of pheromones, his sweat, the way it mixes with the weed. 

And then it slaps against you. His cock. Smooth, and warm, and hard against your hip, and your chest swarms with butterflies. You moan softly. His face is in the crook of your neck. He latches on for a suck and the dull pain makes your hips lift, seeking more of his cock. You feel an emptiness, a longing to be filled. 

His bare face nuzzles at your jaw. He drags his lips up your chin, to your cheek, to your ear. 

“Shhh,” he whispers, despite your silence. 

His lips slowly drag toward your mouth, dragging along the gag. With his mouth on your cheek, your lips tingle with an urge. And then he gets there. His mouth lingers, open against yours, his breath, hot and humid, enveloping your lips. His teeth scrape the corner of your mouth. He bites down on the gag while one hand fiddles behind you to untie it. His cock, now on your mound, swells harder against you and Good God, you need him bad. 

With a backward nod, he tugs at the panty gag, then lets it fall away with a vocal exhale, thrusting his stiff manhood against you. The loss of his lips on your face resembles heartache. 

Barely above a whisper, you ask, “what are you doing?” and brace to hear his real voice. 

Instead, his hand seizes your jaw, forcing your mouth wider open. And then he spits in your mouth. You taste it as it slides down your tongue, down your throat, and desire stirs in your gut. 

He releases your jaw. “Daddy needs to hear ya, princess.” He mutters breathily, and it echoes from your right, “Daddy needs to hear you, princess.”

You pull your knees up. He braces a hand behind you against the wall and grinds his stiff manhood against your slick mound. “Fuck,” he whispers, with no digital echo. Then, in both voices, “You want this. . . Don’t you, pumpkin?” He grinds against you, harder. “You want Daddy’s big cock,” he confirms, and you can imagine him nodding. 

“Yeah,” you admit in a whisper.

“Oh, yeah,” he replies. The slow, throbbing grind of his warm cock is devastating so close to where you need it. 

“Please,” you ask. 

“Please what?” he replies. 

“Please,” your chest tingles, “Please, Daddy.”

“Uh-huh,” he thrusts against you nice and slow. So stiff and warm. 

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you plead. 

He pulls his hips back, letting his cock slide and drop to where his tip notches at your entrance. “Who’s gonna fuck you?” 

“You are, Daddy.” 

“Yeah, that’s my girl.” His tip pushes into your yearning cunt. 

“Please, Daddy.” 

“That’s right,” his tone sharpens as he abruptly shoves his length into you, pushing your slick walls apart.  He shudders as he bottoms out. There’s a tingling burn in the stretch, but it quickly fades as your body gives way to the intrusion. And then, the overwhelming feeling is fullness and need for friction. 

His hips pull back, and your legs wrap around him, begging him all the way back inside. He slams into you, and you grunt with the impact as his flesh fills yours again. “Good girl,” he praises. His cock — How did you ever mistake another man for him? He slams in again, making you whole. 

As he fucks you, your thighs tremble, and you whimper, “Daddy,” drawing a groan from him.

He rails in, and slides almost all the way out. Each time, your cunt is pulling at him, begging him back in.  

“Whose little slut are you? ” He asks, his thrusts becoming sharper.  

“Yours, Daddy.” 

A bead of sweat hits your sternum, then your forehead.

“That's my girl,” you hear in surround sound. 

A salty drop falls into your mouth.

“Daddy’s little slut,” he breathes, “can really take a cock,” and the voice changer catches the last half.

He hovers his body lower, closer to yours. A thick steam condenses between you as he pounds you unforgivingly, even from the closer angle. Your chest, your whole torso, you’re all dewy with heat. And his skin, it’s so close, you want to feel it. You neeeed to feel it. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. 

Yearning to put your hand on his chest, you try to wriggle out of the rope and your wrists begin to burn. Your breasts jiggle and jut into the air with the effort.  His chest grazes your tits, and you gasp with the pleasure that seizes your tummy. 

You take a deep breath through your nose, drowning yourself in his masculine scent and the weed that hangs in the air. 

He thrusts sharply and stays all the way in, grinding against you. His chest grazes yours again as he brings his mouth to your ear, and feeling his breath makes you weak. “Cum for Daddy,” he whispers, and his lips graze your temple with another thrust. He raises his volume, catching the modulator. “Cum on this cock, princess.”

“Mmm,” You bite your lip and whimper. 

“One more for Daddy.” His thick, hard manhood drags heavily through your tight, wet channel, then he grinds again after bottoming out. His pubic bone is nudging your front just right. 

“Mmgh,” you whimper, “Daddy,” and the pressure bursts. You whine, overtaken by your rhythmic release, hips lifting into him. His heavy breaths seem to echo to the beat of your climax. 

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes, fucking you through it. “Ohhh,” he thrusts sharply and shudders as he begins to pulse. Your spasming cunt milks his cock. Your heels dig into his back. 

He shoots a thick, hot rope deep into your cunt, and with a slow thrust, another one.  Then his cock cruelly slides out. Your heart falls, and your legs reflexively tighten around him. You whine, “no,” with your desperate cunt grabbing at nothing. 

But it's only a split second before his dripping wet cock shoves into your ass. It’s just in time to pulse again as his girth spreads you open and he claims another hole. “Yeah,” He bottoms out and your whole body heats up. In surround sound, you hear, “Hell yeah.” 

He groans as he pulses, and over a few more beats and moans, the rest of his hot seed floods your guts. Each twitch of his shaft makes you shudder. You let yourself get lost in the warmth.

He breathes vocally as he finishes. Then his nose grazes yours ever so briefly, and you bite your lip. As he slides out of your ass, his breath is humid on your cheek and the corner of your mouth. When his face pulls away, your face feels cold.

He reaches toward the corner of your bed. Then you hear him rustling around as he puts his mask back on. 

“Untie me,” you beg. He gets off the bed. More rustling. When he comes back, you feel his pj pants graze your bare skin and you’re offended. 

He lightly braces a hand on your shoulder as he gets closer to where your hands are tied. The cool metal of his blade hits your palm and gives you a chill. The flat of the knife presses into your skin as he slices part of the rope and it loosens. You free your hands and bring them in front of you to caress the burn marks from your attempts to free yourself. He gets off your bed again. 

“You had company tonight,” he remarks. 

“Uninvited,” you clarify. 

“Ohhhh. *Uninvited*,” he taunts with skepticism. The location of his voice has changed—he’s pacing. 

“Jealous?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Want him to bleed out anyway? ” 

“Yeah,” you answer. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“He’s not a good guy,��� you offer.

“Oh, princess. If he was a good guy, you wouldn’t let him in your pants. . .Wouldn't give it up that easy.” 

“I didn’t–what–If you were here, why didn't you do anything?” 

“Oh, I did a lot. Just not to him.”

“How long have you been here?” 

He ignores the question.  “Tell me, princess. Why would Prince Charming knock you out, and then just. . . leave?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “But I'm glad he left.”

“Cause he got what he wanted,” Ghostface answers his own question. 

“He didn't even cum”

“Oh, that's not it, princess.” 

“How would you know?”

“Think, Pumpkin.”

You’ve got nothing. 

“There’s gotta be one brain cell left.”  He sits down on the bed to put on his shoes. 

“You're not gonna tell me?” 

He stands up. You hear the woosh of his robe as he puts it on and walks away.

“Wait,” you protest. But he doesn't say a word. His footsteps recede, and you tug the blindfold down to see his robe trailing behind him toward the back door. 

“Asshole,” you mutter to yourself.

When you go to the bathroom, cum is leaking out of both holes, which shouldn’t surprise you. After cleaning up, you get back in bed and keep the blindfold with you. It’s faded green, stiff with sweat. You sniff it. His sweat.  Your chest feels light with forbidden affection. 

Then you’re back to thinking about the question he left you with.

What did Javi want? You push through the shame and replay it all in your head. And then, you see the way he held his wet fingers so carefully as he left, not letting them get contaminated. And it makes your stomach drop. He might be trying to do his job, after all. It unsettles you and keeps you up. 

You curl up under the covers, hugging a pillow. The bandana is wrapped around your hand, pressed against your nose and lips. The scent is comforting. You dart your tongue out for a taste, and find even more comfort in the salty tang. Then ,you take a wrinkled corner of it between your teeth. Your lips wrap around the cloth, and your body finally relaxes fully. You drift off suckling at his sweat. 

Thank you for reading! PLEASE READ THIS NOTE

Thank you for being here and sticking with me. I value each one of you. I can't overstate how much your comments and reblogs really help and motivate me. Your asks, too. I love knowing what you enjoyed most.

As for what's next - no promises, no time estimates.

When people simply demand the next one (ignoring my comments about this at the end of the fic, on the fic masterlist, and in my pinned post) without saying anything about the one they just read, it does NOT make me write any faster or prioritize this story. It's actually pretty demoralizing. I work hard on these and if the only thing Im gonna hear after the next one is NEXT/MORE, what kind of incentive is that for me to do the next one? I'm glad you're excited but acknowledging what you just read is a more beneficial way of expressing it, from the writer's perspective. Please ❤️

[opossum-that-serves-cunt]

stockholm syndrome being a "rare psychological disorder" is some bullshit because I feel like it's very natural to watch a horror film and want to fuck him.

[dollarbils]

can i suck it? | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your best friend, billie, wants to take a look at your new nipple piercing. so you let her..

warnings. smut, praising, degrading?, flirting, oral, hella teasing.

masterlist

“oh my god did it hurt?” billie was questioning you, as you’d just walked through the door, back from the piercing studio. she was sitting on one of the stools beside her kitchen counter.

“of course it did, idiot.” she rolled her eyes at your response. “well what did you expect?” you chuckled but she ignored the question.

“like on a scale from one to ten though.” she wasn’t looking at you, she was staring at your clothed tits. it was as if she thought the harder she stared, the more likely she was to be able to see through your shirt.

“like a seven out of ten, cause it was super fast.” you answered her question and she tore her eyes away from your tits, trying to focus on you words.

“what?” she asked, not having been paying attention to what you were saying.

“i said the pain was a seven out of ten.” you repeated, biting your inner lip as she tried not to look at your cleavage again.

“oh right, does it still hurt?” she asked, giving herself an excuse to look down at where your top started. you nodded but she didn’t seem to care. this made you chuckle again.

“do you want to see it?” the question came out too fast for you to think rationally.

“what?” her eyes were wide, her expression almost confused before she read your own.

“do you want to see my nipple piercing?” you blushed at the realisation of what you were asking her.

“fuck yeah.” she grinned, licking her teeth.

“okay.” you replied, pulling your shirt off, since you’d just been pierced, you weren’t wearing a bra. your breasts were now fully exposed in front of your best friend. and she was staring at the right one, the two dainty balls of metal seeming to hypnotise her. she didn’t say anything, but kept staring.

“well? what do you think?” you asked finally.

“it’s hot.” she said, reaching out to touch the metal on your nipple as her fingers ghosted over the skin of your breast. the small touch made you suck in a breath as she proceeded to softly touch the piercing. she looked up at you, her hand still on your nipple, reminding you of her touch. her lips pulled up to one side when she saw your reaction to her touch.

“so does it still hurt?” she asked again, almost a whisper, looking back down, now playing with it. she was practically drooling at the sight. mesmerised and unable to look away.

“a little.” you replied but it was more of a breath. your best friend was getting a little too comfortable with your tits. you didn’t mind it. but it still came as a shock when you felt her thumb swipe across your already hard nipple.

“billie.” you breathed silently.

“fuck, sorry. i got carried away.” her thumb left your nipple immediately, the loss of contact making you shiver.

“no it was, I-” you fumbled your words, trying to recover from what had just happened as she looked at you hesitantly.

“what?” she questioned after a short silence. a smile returned to your lips when you built up the courage to tell her what you wanted.

“i liked it.” her eyebrows raised slightly as you looked down at her. your breaths hot and desperate. you’d tell her anything to feel her warmth on your body again, even so small of a touch.

“yeah?” she licked her bottom lip as she eyed you. returning her hand to your breast. you nodded as she brought her wet lips to your skin.

“fuck bils,” you gasped when she bit down on the skin next to the piercing. quickly her tongue swiped across your nipple, pulling out a moan. her lips traveled away from your cleavage, and up your neck. the more she kissed you, the more you felt it down in your heat.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous, my girl.” she said before coming up to your face, lifting herself off the stool so that she was now an inch taller than you.

“your girl?” you asked quietly, looking at her eyes, although they were looking elsewhere, down at your plump lips.

“just go with it, pretty.” her lips finally landed on your own, after too long of them being everywhere else. you kissed her as she brought her hands back to your tits, being cautious with the right one. she backed you against the door of her bedroom, while fiddling with the handle and opening it. your lips only parted when you fell gently onto her bed. she removed her own shirt before coming down to kiss you again.

“baby?” the term of endearment new to you, however you answered.

“hm?” you replied.

“can i suck it?” she pleaded. and you laughed softly.

“as much as i’d like you to, you’ll have to wait a week, it’s still sensitive.” you told her and she nodded in understanding, however obviously disappointed.

“okay.” she said before closing her mouth around the other one. the shock of her actions making you moan louder than you’d wanted to. she smiled as she sucked your bare nipple, while playing with the pierced one.

“billie? do we need to talk about the fact your sucking my tits?” your breath was shaky, but she stopped her actions at your words. and you regretted them quickly.

“is it a problem?” she smirked, replaying your previous moans in her mind. you shook your head. “do you want me to continue?” she asked, her voice now sultry.

“yes.” you admitted as her lips attached to your nipple again, this time biting on the flesh as she had done back in the kitchen. one of your hands went to her hair as she continued her abuse on your left tit. it felt like she wanted to devour them.

“billie.” you moaned again as she her warm breath tickled your wet skin. she looked up at you, her eyes dark and her lips swollen. it was a fucking sight. your head fell back onto the pillow as you felt your heat tingle at the lack of friction. she brought her mouth back up to yours, licking your lip as she entered your mouth. her tongue was warm on your own, but her hands were cold on the skin of your stomach.

“fuck, we should’ve done this sooner.” she whispered on your lips as you smiled in agreement. her hands traveled further down your stomach, as she slowly undid the zip of your jeans.

“may i?” she asked, pulling slightly on the waist, indicating she wanted them off.

“yeah.” you told her, as you felt her soft hands pull the fabric off of you.

“god you’re so hot, baby.” she stared at your body, then moving her gaze to your flushed face. “been dreaming of this for too long.” she whispered on your neck as her hands toyed with your panties.

“yeah?” you asked. she quickly nodded, licking a previous spot she had kissed. “me too.” you added and she came back up to your face poking her cheek with her tongue as she looked down at you. it nearly made you explode.

“tell me about those dreams.” she challenged. her hands were now teasing your thighs, as she traced patterns on them. you hesitated for a moment, but you were so consumed with her touch you’d do anything to feel it forever.

“you would kiss me, everywhere, except for where i needed you most. but i begged, and you gave me what i wanted. because you always would.” she raised her eyebrow at your response, not expecting something so blunt.

“and what do you want?” she asked, holding back her own groans at your filthy words.

“your mouth on my pussy, sucking my clit instead of my tits.” she slowly tilted her head back, not knowing how to digest what you’d just asked of her. your best friend.

“fuck, baby. i’ll give you anything you want.” she breathed before nearly ripping off your panties, they were gone in seconds. when she dove her fingers through your folds, you gasped at the sudden sensation, gripping the sheets slightly as she played with your wetness.

“who’s got you this wet, pretty girl.” she teased, lowering herself until she was kissing the skin above your heat. “hm?” she repeated, waiting for an answer.

“you.” it was breathy, but she accepted it. and when her lips wrapped around your clit, your hands flew to her hair.

“fuck.” you whimpered as she continued sucking and licking. she was avoiding your hole, knowing it would mean you’d grow frustrated. and soon, you did. whining her name and pleading for her to do more.

“i thought this was what you wanted?” her grin was filthy as you whined again. “there’s no use in saying my name, wether it’s a whine, a moan, or even a scream. you’ve got to tell me what you want baby.” her words did nothing to help you form a sentence in your mind. you couldn’t think straight with her breath on your cunt.

“i haven’t even fucked you yet and you can’t seem to speak. is that what you want me to do?” she asked, mocking you slightly but lovingly all the same. you nodded, hoping she’d let you off easy.

“i need to hear you say it.” she moved away completely from your heat, and she came up to look at your face.

“please billie.” you were breathing quickly.

“please what?” she was biting her lip. as if she’d burst if the words came out of your mouth. her hands were rubbing your thighs again, as she placed a kiss on the corner of your lips.

“please fuck me with your tongue.”

“you’re so pretty when you beg for me. am i living up to your dreams?” you nodded and she chuckled. “you’re exceeding mine.” she whispered before dipping her head back down to your heat, and immediately running her tongue through your folds again. she didn’t waste any time when darting her tongue into your hole, gripping your thighs as they squeezed her head. she moaned at the taste of your arousal and spread your lips further with two fingers. you couldn’t hold in your moans and she was loving it. it urged her to go faster, and harder, just to hear you moan her name louder and louder. over and over again. she’d never heard her name sound so good, and it turned her on more than she’d admit.

“mh.” she groaned as you clenched around her tongue, pulling at her hair while she ate you out. she was feral for you, for your taste. and she ate you out as if she was starved. when you finally came into her mouth, she licked you clean. despite your whines of sensitivity.

“fuck billie.” you said, out of breath.

“you looked so goddamn good, when you came on my tongue.” this made you laugh softly, your cheeks flushed as she wrapped her arms around your naked body.

“i’m going to remind you in a week, when i can finally suck your tittie.” she said jokingly but you knew she was dead serious. you laughed however, warmth flooding your body as you nuzzled further into her.

note: can you tell i have a thing for best friend billie. also, thought you’d like to know where i got the inspo for this:

[moralesluvr]

ꨄ some texts with girlfriend!bils !!!….i haven’t seen any of these so i decided to make some !! hope u enjoyed <3

[aemondsbabe]

Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

🖤 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym. 

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being. 

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present. 

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches. 

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back. 

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure. 

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back. 

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder. 

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor. 

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk. 

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache. 

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum. 

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?” 

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do. 

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done. 

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind. 

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes. 

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always. 

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so. 

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. 

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face. 

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances. 

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost. 

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone. 

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay. 

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.” 

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,�� he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.” 

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to. 

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own. 

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush. 

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?” 

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface. 

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee. 

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?” 

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll. 

“Will you?”

“Not for you!” 

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses. 

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt. 

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?” 

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?” 

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours. 

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing. 

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again. 

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder. 

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder. 

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence. 

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.” 

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. 

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back. 

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym. 

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice. 

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.” 

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.  

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach. 

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers. 

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel. 

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner. 

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch. 

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this. 

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours. 

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest. 

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him. 

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would. 

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. 

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist. 

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee. 

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge. 

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible. 

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck. 

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up. 

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place. 

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.” 

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail. 

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain. 

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot. 

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head. 

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[bebx]

“enemies to lovers as a fictional trope is harmful because it normalizes and romanticizes abuse and toxicity” my brother in Christ, touch. grass. they fuck while trying to murder each other and also they use each other’s blood as lube and yeah they look hot as fuck. what are you going to do about it?

[writerstruggle]

i don't know what canon is. just tumblr and ao3 ❤️

[billsxmm]

Passenger princess. (b.e.)

bsf!billie x fem!reader

warnings. slight smut, not proof read. (sorry for poor language in some places.)

—————

One moonlit night, your best friend took you out to go on a ride, as you often did. it was 3AM, dark outside, only the yellowish soft, street lights coating the cars interior through the windows. some quiet music coming from the radio.

billie had one of her hands on the gear panel, and the other gripping the steering wheel. the watch on her wrist glistening a little, as she looked over at you from the passenger seat. the windows were slightly down, as the cool air breezes through your hair, as she watched you, her eyes sparkling. you were so pretty.

billie always been attracted to you, of course- you were gorgeous, but to add to it, you had the sweetest personality ever. and she knew and saw it from the first time she laid her eyes on you, even if unfortunately, that day, 2 years ago, she got to know about your boyfriend, she still couldn’t help but fall in love. she didn’t care about your stupid boyfriend.. she could treat you so much better.

and now her soft fingers gripping your thigh, going just slightly under your skirt, didn’t help at all.. she was nervous, scared to push too much, even if you two had always been touchy. but you never seemed to mind one bit. slightly spreading your legs for her hand.

billie looked at the empty road in front of them again, that shit-eating grin on her pretty face.. as she slowly moved her hand higher up your thigh. she was toying with the fabric of your skirt, so nonchalantly, if she isn’t already shaking herself.

she hit the brakes, speeding up. exactly like your heart. you loved when she went fast. you would go anywhere she takes you..

one moment, and you felt her hand reach the lace of your panties, her fingertips against your heat, as you let out that soft whimper. it was over for her. next thing you know, the car was stopped, and her leaning over to you.

“Backseat.” she whispered, her tone laced with desire, like she couldn’t wait to have you. the look in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Oh, this was gonna be a long night..