#dark!billy x reader

[lillyrob]

Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

I'm literally itching for something to write.

Hold on to your underwear, this is going to get dark.

You didn't like when Billy accompanied you to meetings. It wasn't because of Billy really, he was dominant and beautiful and commanded a room expertly when necessary. At these meetings, he tended to stand behind you, or at your side, looked at you for approval before speaking, did everything right by you.

And yet, men still directed their big questions to him when they should be asking you.

It pissed you off to no end when people assumed he was in charge of Anvil, that he ran the business and took care of the finances. He'd done a magnificent job building it up before he'd met you... but you were the reason the company was as big as it was now, and though he knew, no one else seemed to give you the credit.

It inspired your men to question you, when other leaders did, and though Billy kept firm hold, it was still annoying.

Today you wouldn't stand for it, and at the very first indication that you were being disrespected, you were going to kill someone.

You'd been sitting at a table with four other men, each running companies in different parts of the city. Frank Castle had been longtime friends with your husband, and managed drug rings on the west side of the city. The rest were men you weren't familiar with, who were hoping to form some kind of alliance with Anvil.

The man on the right of you had been leering at you for quite some time. You'd been calm, answering questions asked, and listening to counter offers.

When he finally slams his glass of whiskey down on the table, you watch Billy's hands tighten beside you.

"Why are you letting this girl do all the talking for you, Russo? I came here for Anvil's CEO, not to hear his cunt speak."

The table is shocked into silence, Frank leans back, already knowing what's coming.

You stare at the man, in his too expensive suit trying to be a big boy at the big boy table, and you smile.

Billy waits for your order, knows it's coming, fighting the urge to end this man before your say.

You turn to face Billy, placing a kiss on his cheek and moving to stand.

It's all the permission he needs, pulling his gun before the man can protest and putting two bullets between his eyebrows.

"We're done for today. Let's meet another time." You say, leaving no room for argument.

As the men stand, you wait patiently for Billy to organize a cleanup crew.

When everything is arranged, you leave, hand in hand, going back to his place.

There's a pretense to the drive home, where you both pretend that you don't want to rip each other's clothes off, that murder doesn't burn in your blood and incite pleasure within you.

You both keep calm as you make the walk from the elevator to your penthouse apartment, slow and steady, side by side, like a solemn couple after a hard day.

But when the doors close, locks shut, alarm activates, it only takes a second before you're ripping at each other's clothes.

He moans into your mouth when your nails scratch down his back, squeezing at the flesh of your hips, before tearing your dress off, picking you up while keeping your mouth pressed to his.

It doesn't take long till he's pressing into you, hot and hard, with the rhythm of a man possessed.

"I love killing for you." He confesses into your ear, while his cock spreads you open, "I'd do it anytime you ask."

You moan, leaning up to kiss him, in love with the prospect, desperate for him.

A match made in heaven, some people would say, definitely one destined for hell.

.

.

.

A/N: I would have written more but I lost my focus when people started playing tiktok videos next to me dammit.

Imagine being one of the most powerful crime bosses in New York, and you’re infamous for turning up alone to meetings and standoffs with rival gangs.

Only you’re not alone. Your husband Billy Russo is always poised and ready on a rooftop, sniper trained onto the ground, ear piece listening to your every word, in perfect position to cut down anyone who gets close to you.

If anyone says anything to oppose or insult you, Billy becomes rather trigger happy. You don’t flinch when some newbie decides to make a scathing remark about you being unfit to lead as you do, and you don’t flinch when the bullet hits his brain.

[webbluvrsugar]

SUGAR’s (multifandom) KINKTOBER24 MASTERLIST!

only for: obx, scream saga, hp, cm.

hi hons! this is my first year participating during kinktober and I’m just so excited to show you everything I have planned!

ps: comment to be tagged on the ones that interest you; all the credits to dividers and etc are on my pinned post except for the gf header below which was made by @staincastle

most triggering topics are highlighted in pink

OCT. 1ST. — Rafe Cameron ♱ somnophilia ♱ stepcest

OCT. 4TH. — Ethan Landry ♱ exhibitionism ♱ cnc ♱ phone sex

OCT. 7TH — Spencer Reid ♱ chocking ♱ unsub x spencer

OCT. 10TH — Billy Loomis ♱ cnc ♱ stepcest ♱ manipulation

OCT. 13TH — Tom Riddle ♱ dark magic ♱ coercion ♱ corruption ♱ betrayal

OCT. 16TH — Rafe Cameron ♱ religious themes ♱ virgin!reader ♱ slight dubcon/coercion

OCT. 19TH — Ethan Landry ♱ sex tapes ♱ blackmail ♱ ghostface!ethan

OCT. 22ND — Spencer Reid ♱ unsub!spence ♱ dirty talk ♱ dubcon

OCT. 25TH — Tom Riddle ♱ cheating ♱ bondage/cuffs ♱ dumbification

OCT. 28TH — Ethan Landry, Amber Freeman ♱ innocent!reader ♱ threesome ♱ buttstuff ♱ ghostface Ethan/Amber

OCT. 31TH — Rafe Cameron ♱ shower sex (classic horror movie scene) ♱ Rafe breaks in reader’s house

disclaimer: during the other days of October, I may or may not post fluff/lighter content, these dates don’t mean I’ll be inactive on other days, I plan on writing some cutesy stuff too! (If I’m not so busy)

> if anything triggers you, please don’t check it out, you’ve been warned!!

taglist: @nemesyaaa @fae-of-prey @babygorewhore

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader. moodboard & aesthetic only ! (not a fic please !)

you were a young doll stucked in your baby blues shades world, who was born to fall into old men traps. and this one was an old serial killer who made you a missing girl in your small town.

you adored him like he was the only god in the world. and you even started to believe that when he kidnapped you it was not a crime but intimacy.

you were a young crybaby, a babydoll full of tears, with a sweet white and blue soul, pure as heaven, and soft as clouds. you wanted nothing more than to be the wife of the old daddy with dirty bloody hands that can kill for you, but never hurts you.

“ i just wanted you to know that i think you're the sweetest guy in the world. and the most handsome. i love you. ”

you were to him the innocence he never had, the peace he wanted to hold forever. you were his little girl.

“ i will be very sad if you don't come back. just tell me, don't lie to me.”

“ you adore me, you love me, you cherish me, jesus christ you can't live without me”

“ i'm gonna step out of the car for one minute. one minute, i'm gonna step out. put your hands on the dashboard like that. hold 'em like that. don't let me see you move them one finger, not one finger move, not one twitch of a move or i'll come back and choke you to death. i swear to god, don't move, little girl. i can put a gun on your angel face, and blood on your pretty tears. ”

“ do you still think i'm the sweetest guy in the world ?" " yes, always. can i hug you now ?"

tadouuum !!! hbddd @bunnyrafe <333 (i'm 'ot so so proud of it but wish you like it) + @fae-of-prey thx to make me think of it

[yandere-wishes]

˚｡✮ Yandere! Darth Vader {Anakin Skywalker} x Apprentice Reader

˚｡✮ Bad, bad news, One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse, Just add some friction, You are my strange addiction

˚｡✮ We've talked about Yandere! Anakin Skywalker falling for Padawan! Reader... But what about Vader falling for his acolyte/apprentice?

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ★⋆.˚

Vader isn't nurturing.

It feels almost sacrilegious to entertain the thought.

That's why it's so troubling when the galactic empire's staff take note of a smaller morbid figure trailing after the ebony monstrosity.

I can see there being many interesting scenarios in which Vader would pick an acolyte. The most heartwrenching and particularly curious case would be if his acolyte used to also be Anakin Skywalker's Padawan.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader searching for you across the galaxy. He feels your force signature reverberating inside him, calls out to it, tries to bind and morph it. A sardonic love letter he pens with rage and perplexion. Still, you always slip away. He keeps your hunt a secret, some ancient wound that's never healed right. The swing of your saber still haunts him, your satisfied grin as you land a blow on him. The force works in mysterious ways and Vader's desperation can't fully be reasoned. He's given up everything that Anakin once had. Forgone to an almost spiritual level. But you are the one pesky thing that still lingers. He likes to think that it's because he knows your true power. That you're a threat as long as you live.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader finally, finally finding you. Mesmerized by how much you've grown. You're rugged, wild. Some strange creature wearing the skin of the girl he once loved. You don't hesitate to attack, and Vader signs it off as a blessing. He needs a reason to hurt you, to drag you back kicking and screaming. He needs an excuse to push his fury between your bones and drown you in his sorrows. He needs revenge in the worst way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader winning because of course he does. He leaves you bruised and broken, bleeding on the soft grassy ground. Your eyes are so beautiful when they're filled with terror. Your voice melodic as you scream in agony as his saber severs your leg and arm. Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance. You left him, left him to face Obi-wan alone, left him to be mutilated and disfigured.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only coming to terms with who he is, and what he is as he's watching the medical droids repair your body. He can never escape Anakin, cause that's who he still is. Anakin hasn't died just grown. He's no longer the kid with a schoolboy crush on his pupil and supernovas under his tongue. He's swallowed the burning stars, let their fires and explosions paint him in shades darker than the nights on Tatooine. He runs a cybernetic hand across your head, feeling you for the first time in forever.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader training you once more. It's been months since your capture, months of brutal and tender torture. He's ripped you apart and rearranged you so meticulously. Picking favored parts to hem and sew with a buzzing red needle and dark doctrines. Only when Vader notes the red-rimmed golden shift flicker across your eyes does he know he's truly won. Your connection to the light is nearly completely severed. Your past is left to rot on the green planet. What stares back at him from the corners of the dark, damp cell is a creature forged of hate and malice. A sith in every way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only ever happy when he's with you. He's finally free to train you as he pleases, to touch you as he pleases, to kiss you as he pleases. He's taken you to ice worlds to bleed kyber crystals and to Mustafar to forge your new armor. He kisses you on a battlefield littered with the corpses of dead resistance soldiers. Metal clancks against metal all wretched sinister love. You're beginning to love this new master, he's everything Anakin had repressed, he's everything you have always feared. But the thing you must realize about fickle fears is that once you fall in love with them, you begin to lose yourself.

˚｡✮ Imagine Pulling up Vader's mask and kissing the burns across his face. Your kisses are laced with such passion and hate he feels like he's drowning in lava once more. He's brutal in the way he handles you, each touch leaving a plethora of bruises, singing I love you. You like the way each training session starts with a deep all-consuming kiss and ends with him using the force to smash your head into the ground as you laugh and laugh. His force signature is different now, you like the way it slithers across your body, all fire and pain, all destruction. Love the pain that comes with him, this grisly bloody love affair that makes the stars shutter.

The staff of the galactic empire, Find the little midnight creature all too bizarre.

She trails after their commander with vicious playful skips and plays uno with their lives. She twirls around the galaxy's most feared as if she's playing hopscotch.

The staff of the galactic empire doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror...

I think about how at the beginning of being Vader, Anakin was so quick to reject who he once was. Trying desperately to kill off any semblance of Anakin. But by the time of the Original Trilogy, he's sort of come to terms with who he is and who he once was. Anakin isn't really dead he's just grown stronger now, and in a strange way, he even seems to embrace his past as a Jedi, wearing it as - a not so obvious- badge of pride.

[mercedista]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓⠀⠀⠀→⠀⠀⠀𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:⠀A killer breaks into your room, except he doesn't kill you. Well, that's one of the pros of being his girlfriend, even if you don't know that behind the mask is your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):⠀Porn with plot, horror, non-con, dub-con, mention of murder, threat, poor smut, squirting, toxic relationship.

𝐀/𝐍: Part one for more context. Also, I haven't proofread the content, I don't have any experience with smut and English is not my first language. Keep it in mind.

"Open your fucking mouth, before I make you pay for what you did with your own life." Not that there was any other option, he gave your cheek a light slap, just as a silent warning, and as soon as you opened it, he stuck his fingers in. It was a disgusting sensation for you, that glove rubbing against your tongue as you were forced to watch him use his other hand to open a little of the cape he was wearing and then his own pants.

You knew what to expect, and your vision became blurry again with tears.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and pushed the back of your head against his cock. You didn't want to notice, much less compare, but there was no way you couldn't, he was big. Maybe as big as your boyfriend.

"You've lost your choice, slut." Your thoughts were interrupted by his cock entering until he felt your throat squeezing it. You fought against it, not having prepared yourself, and not having any experience. You didn't know if that pain was normal, if it was his exaggerated size, or just the result of him being too violent with the thrust.

He held your head against him for a few seconds, before letting go and allowing you to catch your breath. But as soon as you recovered – a matter of only five seconds – he was already making you swallow his cock again. "Back to work."

At least he seemed to be having a little more mercy now, continuing to pump your head on his cock, while he threw his back each time your tongue dragged against a vein of his. His hair was already sweaty beneath that mask. "Fuck...!"

His breathing was heavy, but his throat was still forced to wait a few minutes that seemed more like hours until he finally reached his peak.

You were already dizzy, your head hurting, when he pushed your head back, ordering you to stick your tongue out. "I'm going to paint your pretty lips, baby."

The salty splashes touched your tongue, you felt disgusting, you wanted to spit it all out. Not because of the taste, but because of the guilt you felt for being used, even though you had no responsibility for it. "It's not over yet, doll."

Pulling you by the neck, he threw you on the bed, your face sinking against the pillow, while you only heard the clink of more parts of his clothes falling to the floor. "Please, just kill me already... I can’t–" You begged one last time, sobbing, fearing the worst that was to come.

"Don't cry, princess." He said, his voice surprisingly human now. And definitely familiar, more than you would have expected. You felt his hands turn your body, and through the tears that blurred your vision, you recognized the face of your dear boyfriend. If you could still call him that. "Surprise, I guess?" The look of horror that once again crossed his face was divine, and even better with the small sobs that passed through his lips.

"Did I scare you? I went easy on you, baby. I've done worse to my victims." He said, spreading your legs. Without any warning, he thrust into you, a growl escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench around his cock. "But you know... I'm faithful, I've never fucked them like that, if that makes you feel any better."

He wasn't being as delicate with his thrusts as his tone of voice was deceiving, his skin slapping against yours without any mercy. Your boyfriend bit the tip of his glove, ripping it off and throwing it to the side, leaving his bare hand to slap dangerously close to your clit. "I'm glad... that you chose to stay faithful as well..." He said, giving a particularly violent thrust, which made you grunt between sobs. He pressed his uncovered face against your neck, nibbling on it as he continued to fuck you. "I didn't mean to test you, but hell...! I fucking love you."

He said smiling. Your faces were so close, he squeezed your waist. You felt his tongue lick a tear that ran down your cheek. He loves you alive and well, of course, despite his sadism. But, the thought of you cheating on him just to save yourself? He would kill you before you had the chance to do that. "Fuck." He bit his lip. "Such a good little fucktoy. Taking my cock like a champ. You're still as tight as the day I fucked you for the first time."

You closed your eyes, trying to find some semblance of sanity amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that were running through your body at that moment.

"Aw, baby, look at me. Think of how good..." His boyfriend paused, moaning. "How good it feels now... There are no more secrets between us. Like it always should have been."

"You're a damn murderer... you lied to me...!" You snapped, biting your lip then to make a moan die in your throat. "And now you expect... me to forgive you–"

You were interrupted by a sudden movement, he turned you around again, without even making much effort, and put you on all fours. "Silence, now. For someone who was crying minutes ago, you're talking too much." He grunted, slapping your ass, rubbing his cock, still hard, against it. "Shut your pretty mouth, or I'll fuck the little hole you don't like."

He chuckled at the irritated noise you made before he slid his cock back into your entrance. "Now why don't we start over, and you thank me for being a good boyfriend and not opening your throat with a knife after that kick?"

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you as he hugs you waist, pressing his body against your back. The pain from his rough thrusts is intertwined with a sickening sense of pleasure, and the realization that he's truly capable of such violence sends shivers down your spine.

"Too... much..." You manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your boyfriend's grunts and the creaking of the bed.

He seems to take pity on you, or perhaps he's simply enjoying watching you tremble and humiliate youself. Either way, he slow down a bit, but continues to pound into you, his grip on your hips tightening. "That's a good girl," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're learning your place." As he speaks, you feel his cock twitch inside you, and you know he's close to climax. "God, I can't even imagine what it's like to fuck your ass..."

Tears stream down your face as you try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much you're enjoying being used. But it's no use; the pleasure is too intense, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, and you feel cold and empty without him inside. Before you can protest, he flips you over onto your back and climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head.

He leans down and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and claiming you in the most intimate way possible. "You're so easy to play around with, like a doll, so easy for me to put you in any position." At the same time, he lines up his cock with your entrance and slams back inside, burying himself to the hilt in one movement. The pain from his grip on your wrists mixes with the pleasure of his cock hitting your sweet spot.

He let go of your wrists and reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly. "Tell me, have you ever let another man touch you like this?"

You shake your head frantically. "No..." You whimper.

He chuckles darkly, his hand sliding down to rub your clit. "Good... good fucking answer." he purrs, his fingers circling the sensitive nub. "Because if you ever let another man touch this tight little cunt, I'll fucking kill you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but wonder if he's serious. But the thought of him being jealous and possessive only turns you on more. And you hated yourself for it.

"Oh?" He mocks, giving your cunt a sharp slap. "Did you just get tighter? You fucking freak." Your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at his pretty girl.

"Y-You're imagining things..." You try to deny it, saving a shred of dignity that was still left, but it was just so hard, you can feel every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your sore, sensitive flesh. 

He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you cry out. "I don't have time to baby you," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force.

Right now, he was only concerned with his own orgasm. Maybe he himself was already tired of all that edging. You can feel your orgasm building, your walls clenching around his throbbing cock as he drives into you relentlessly. Just as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls out, leaving you empty and desperate, his cock spurting cum all over your pussy and stomach. It made you tremble just with the mere contact of his tip over your clit.

Even without having reached your orgasm, you were dizzy from all the stimulation and tired, without much strength to move. So you were expecting the same from him, but a few seconds after cumming, he was already moving again, making you groan. He moves down your body, his tongue tracing a path from your neck to your belly.

"Aw, my poor baby..." he coos, his breath hot against your skin. "You didn't get to cum, did you?"

You shake your head weakly, too exhausted to form words. He smiles at you, his eyes filled with a wicked gleam. You were already too tired to fight, and you just wanted to cum already, it didn't matter if you had to beg or cry for it.

You can feel the heat of his breath as he moves lower and lower, until he's positioned between your legs. He spreads them, exposing your sensitive, swollen clit. He takes a moment to admire his handiwork, the sight of your glistening pussy making his cock twitch with renewed interest

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "So desperate." He dips his head down and starts to lap at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You moan, your hips bucking up against his face as he continues to tease you. He chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

He slips a finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out as he continues to suck on your clit. You can feel your orgasm building once again, your walls clenching around his finger as he works you closer to the edge.

Your boyfriend increases the pressure on your clit, his tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body tensing as you prepare for the inevitable release. Your hand went to his hair, fingers tangling with his beautiful locks, he chuckled against your pussy, before going back to his work. You barely had time to warn him, your body shook in ecstasy as you felt yourself squirt. Your heart was racing and your vision was blurry, your chest rising and falling in search of air.

Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your pussy clench and release around his finger, your juices gushing out and coating his chin. He pulls back, looking up at you with a mixture of shock and excitement on his face. His voice woke you up from your trance.

"Holy shit, did you just squirt?" he exclaims, his voice filled with awe and disbelief. "I've never seen you do that before!"

He grins at you, his face glistening with your juices, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride at the effect you've had on him. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning, his eyes sparkling with joy and anticipation. "That was so fucking hot!" he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I want to see you do it again." He was already going back between her legs.

"No, no, no! Fuck, I am sensitive, you dumbass...!" Your mind barely processed what you said, and when you realized it, you didn't expect him to listen to you, but he did. With a sad exaggerated expression, but he obeyed, at least.

"Aw, but I was having so much fun." he pouts, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of sadness.

He crawls up your body, resting his head on your chest, his ears pressed against your heart. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, rising and falling with each beat of your heart.

"I'm sorry, baby..." he murmurs, his voice soft, but you knew it was just another one of his attempts at manipulation. You were already used to it enough to recognize it. "I just wanted to play around a bit, I didn't expect things to unfold this way."

"Be quiet or get out of here." You snapped, eyes closing. "You better kill me before I wake up with energy again, because you're going to pay for all this shit."

He faced you, his hand resting on your waist as he observed how upset you were. Which, to be fair, he should have expected. "Come on, baby," he murmured, as if he were pleading for you to talk to him, but it only sounded like mocking. "I made you cum, didn't I?"

When you didn't answer him, he continued. "We both know you'll forgive me before the morning, princess."

Of course he expected you'd let him get away with this. As you always did. But he didn't blame you—he would always find a way to manipulate you, because it suited him so much more.

"You'll be lucky if I even look you in the face after all this, let alone forgive you." You said and covered yourself with the blanket, pushing him away from you and laying with your back to him.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, having to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He knew you'd give in and forgive him... eventually.

"That's cute." He said, with a scoff. "You act like you have any choice." He said, standing up and picking up his clothes. He stared at his mask, wondering whether to take it or not, but smiled, deciding to leave it as a reminder for you.

[alien-magnolia]

Tainted Love

Fic description: This is a dark fic. 18+ MINORS DNI. Dom!-coded Billy Loomis + hyperfeminine, sub-coded afab reader: they are married, committing crimes together <3 and having a wonderful domestic life <3 besides all the blood and murder. Smut/horror genre: kinks include service!, blood!, knifeplay!, ropes!, choking!, spanking!, free-use!, SERVICE, d/s mental dynamics, majorrrr daddy!kink, exhibitionism

If you like this post, pls engage, comment, reblog! It means so much to me, Ty <3 WC 2.7k

October 10, 1996.

The dark red, yellow, with tinges of brown leaves tumbled down the secluded suburban street. A tan cottage stood at the end of a cul-de-sac, yard neatly trimmed, wind chimes ringing on the porch where they hung. A dim light inside. A black van pulls into the driveway, scaring away a few neighboring birds. The door shuts — a young man enters the house.

——

You were just about finished with tonight’s dinner when your partner came back from college. You loved Billy dearly, and so you did almost everything for him. It was your dynamic — and he loved it as well. You served him, your Billy, your daddy.

How exactly did you get involved with a serial killer? Involved far enough to be an equal partner in his crimes? Involved enough to be so cautious and excellent at keeping first-degree murder a secret? Involved enough to live with him?

—-

It began last fall. A chilly November morning, fog rolling in on the campus. You walked in your pretty pink outfit, donning lace and frills, kitten heels, and butterfly hair clips. You were only nineteen. Young. Innocent. You were looking for your ‘Introduction to Early Modern Literature’ class, yet happened to wander over on the other, more secluded side of campus. You stumble over a rock on the sidewalk. You fall, beautiful rosy cheek now stained with a gash of bright, red blood.

Your hands, your knees, cut up from the bumpy pavement. You start crying. This was just too embarrassing!! With your social anxiety and shyness, you really hoped nobody had seen this. You did not like to be perceived by people — that is just how you were. You look around — not a soul to be seen.

Except for a man — lean, sitting on a brick bench, cigarette in hand. You couldn’t make out how he looked, yet fear overtook you as he started making his way over. You start to scramble up, hoping to run away from him, yet your bruises were just too intense for you to do so.

His deep voice asks you, “Hey, sweetheart, you okay? You nod. “Yeah jus’ a few scratches. Can’t see too well in the fog,” you sheepishly explain. “Hey, no worries. Here, I’ll help you up, yeah?” You oblige, taking his big calloused hands in yours as he helps you stand. You finally get a good look at him. God — he was handsome. More than handsome. Extremely, extremely, attractive. You got wet just by looking at his deep brown eyes and crooked smile looking down at you.

“Hey. Don’t be too shy, hun. Come. Want me to help you fix those bruises? There’s a bathroom right around the corner, he suggests. You nod silently, agreeing, following him to a door on the left.

He begins wiping your bruises with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he focuses. You see more of him now. He wears all black. Smells like cigarettes and a dusty old basement. “So what brings you to this part of campus?,” he asks, brown eyes focused on your bruises.

“Just got lost. Needed to find one class but couldn’t. Maybe I’ll skip today anyway…,” you trail off. “Aw. Today’s your first day huh?,” he coos at you, with a smile you just couldn’t figure out. “Um. Yes. I don’t really know the campus, so…,” you quietly answer him, afraid to look into his eyes. His voice, his face, it all made you thirst for him even more.

“I could tell. Hey. Maybe you should skip. Been looking for someone to hang out with,” he suggests, finishing up cleaning your bruises, putting a few bandaids on you. “I’m Billy, by the way.” You introduce yourself to him, a little smile forming on your face. You ended up skipping class that day, spending time with him in that secluded courtyard, smoking cigarettes, listening to The Smiths. You ended up fucking in the bathroom a few hours later. You knew that you were indubitably attracted — glued to him and everything that he was. Something did feel a little off about how he treated others — you did not care.

So it was.

——

~Present day ~

You hear the keys jingle in the doorway, heavy boots make their way towards the kitchen, where you were. You currently donned a short little black dress, fishnets, with nothing underneath. You were waiting for him.

“Hey, sweets. Looking good today,” he compliments you, as he takes your small hand in his, moving you closer to him, wrapping a hand around your waist. You giggle as he peppers your cheek with kisses. “Sweetie. Want’a ask you something,” he insists, quietly, yet confidently. Your big eyelashes blink as you wait for his question.

“Wanna play with me tonight?,” a sinister smile adorns his face, his brown eyes filled with a hint of malice, excitement. Your eyes match his. You loved playing with him, your sessions, where you gave over complete control of yourself, to him. You trusted him completely. He led, you followed.

You were his. His prey, his little girl, his accomplice. You were his, devoted completely, mind and body. The two of you even had matching tattoos: a forever symbol of your unique relationship.

“Yes, daddy. What first?” He chuckles lowly. “Glad you asked, princess. We’re going to the van.” You smile back at him, as he gives you a kiss, pulling you closer to him by your neck. You knew what to do, sticking your hands out, as he takes a rope from the nearby drawer.

The rope felt nice around your wrists, you liked to watch him tie it. You didn’t want your freedom when you played with him. “Daddy’s girl, all tied up, huh? Come sweets. Let’s go to the van,” he sneers at you in the best possible way, as he leads you outside. Still, he manages to grab a coat for you, alongside some knives. You suspected that both of you will be using those later.

“Before we leave our house, thought we might have a bit of fun in the van, what’dya say? I think it’ll be nice for my little girl, yeah?,” he croons at you, caressing your cheek, before gripping it harshly, brown eyes boring into yours.

You’re on your knees for him in his dingy van. His waffle knit white t-shirt feels nice on your bound hands, as you see him start to unbuckle his belt, dropping his jeans to the floor of the van. “Give daddy’s cock some love, hun,” you hear, and his strong arms work to push you down to the floor. You look up at him from your back, you see him towering over you, cock in his calloused hand, slowly rubbing it. He lowers his cock and balls onto your face, you love the feeling of his heavy ball sack on your chin. His cock was wide, not too long, yet wide, weeping, with three beautiful veins and a beauty mark <3

It was all red and ready for your wet throat. You took him eagerly, sucking so much pressure, you felt his silky smooth voice moan out in ecstasy. You keep sucking, swirling your tongue around the mushroom tip of his cockhead. He pulls a knife to the side of your cheek. You stop.

“Look what daddy’s got here hun. You don’t like this little toy, do you?,” he taunts. With that, he lowers the knife to your chest, where he makes a gentle cut on it. He liked to cut you with his knife. Another way to possess you, to mark you as HIS.

“Get up, sweets. Daddy’s gonna cum if you keep this shit up.” He chuckles, and helps you up, wiping that little cut he made with a towel. That same towel now goes in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

His hands tightly grip your hips, pushing you down onto the floor of the van again. Hips spread, gagged, hands still tied, you felt his finger swipe across your clit, down your labia, trailing over your wet, wet, pussy. Your hole was clenching around nothing!! He was going to fix that.

“Aww. Look at you , sweetie. Cheeks all rosy, ass up for me, ready to be bred,” he taunts. You only moan in response. “Does daddy’s little girl want to be bred, hmm? Like a little cow?” You moan in response, he tuts, and lifts your neck up gently. “What was that?,” voice low. Shit. You fucked up.

“Yes, daddy,” your voice is muffled through the gag. He smiles again, that dark smile of his. Sinister. Evil. Exactly what you wanted to see. Without warning, you feel him push into you. Wide, throbbing, filling that sweet spot exactly how you wanted. He went slow for just a little, relishing how good his little girl, his breeding cow, dumpster, was for him. Then he went fast. Too fast. You loved hearing the sound of his cock and balls slap against your ass, your squelching pussy <3

You feel so full of him, you saw stars as his wife cock drilled deeper and deeper into you. You felt him twitch inside, your favorite part!! “Take my cum, baby. Fuckin’ take it,” you hear him grunt, as his hands press your body down into a mating press, his stomach now on top of your back. He had you caged in, tied, gagged, absolutely abusing you on his wide cock. You were in heaven. You were his now, in this moment. The both of you came, and of course, he did not let you squeeze his cum out of you.

“Keep it in, hmm? Want our visitors to know that you’re daddy’s girl.” You nod and smile, making grabby hands at him once he unties your wrists, and takes the towel out of your mouth. He lifts you up into his lap, peppering your face with kisses, smiling up at you as you giggle.

He helps you get dressed, gently cooing at you as you show him the carpet burn you got from being on your knees for so long. He kisses it to make it better <3 and even puts on your white frilly socks for you, helping you with your little black kitten heels and your dress.

“Where to next, daddy?,” you giddily await his answer. “Now, we drive. To meet our special guests for tonight,” he replies, your smile now matching his level of sinister. The both of you were about to go have some fun, with some unconventional guests as well.

——-/

It was now almost midnight. After your play session in the van, you couldn’t wait to play in front of your guests!! The both of you listen to heavy metal as Billy speeds down an abandoned road, the rotting leaves blowing towards the sides from the van passing by on the road. He pulls his van up a few meters close to the woods, and parks.

“Coat, baby.” You nod, and he puts your black puffer on. He leads you to the backseat, where a black trunk with a lock is placed. He opens it. His mask. Ghostface. He puts it on his hip, putting on black clothes over his nice ones. He gives you gloves, and a knife. One for himself as well. Binoculars.

“Come, hun. This way.” You follow him up into a tree, where the both of you take turns with your binoculars. He takes out his block of a phone. How you loved the 90’s. He dials the number, telling you to watch their reaction in the windows. “Hi. What’s your favorite scary movie,” Billy's voice drawls out to his unsuspecting victims in the mansion that you were currently hiding outside of.

Billy continued to harass them on the phone, beckoning you down the tree quietly, and closer and closer to the person’s backyard. Billy stays on the phone, pointing at you to stay put, and opens the window on the first floor. You wait outside, as he slips on in.

You knew what to do. You’d wait for his signal, then follow him in. Then, came your favorite part: where Billy shows you off to his victims <3

You see his hand signal through the window. You step on inside, and see the couple tied to each other, this time with metal chains. Billy is wearing his mask. “Just in time for the show, sweetheart. Kneel.”

You do as said, loving the absolutely sadistic smile on his face right now. He puts on your leash ( only for when in front of un-consenting others) and has to crawl to sit at his knees. “You see here, my two pretties, you two are going to watch me fuck my little princess here. After that, I’ll decide if you get to live,” he chuckles in absolute glee.

“By the way, if you two decide to make a sound, or go at my little girl here, I’ll stab ya. Sounds good? My, my, what a perfect, scary movie,” he narrates to himself, to you, to the two victims, who looked like they were about to mentally lose it. <3

He skips with the foreplay, the blowjob, the fingering. He gets right to it. He wants his victims to see his pretty girl, on his own terms. He roughly pushes you down onto the floor, strong hands positioning your hips in place, giving your ass a few harsh spanks <3 you hear the belt buckle slip, and soon enough, you can feel the warmth of his already hard cock near your puffy pussy.

Your eyes are drawn to the couple. You loved being shown off, being watched. They did not want to watch you. But that is okay. Billy is going to make them. :)

They watch in horror as he starts rutting into you like a beast, bloody knife that he used on one of the victims nearing your neck, staying there. The knife soon drops, he gives it to you to hold as he starts losing control. You were too, feeling so full of him, getting an extra serving of his cum :) was your favorite thing to do.

You smiled as the couple looked on in horror. Billy pulled out just the last second before, and came all over your face. “Look so pretty with my cum all over your face, sweet girl. Clean it up f’me, yeah?” You nod.

After you wipe it off, Billy steps back in front of the two victims. “See how nicely I treat my girl? I’m her daddy, after all. Just wanted to show her to you. She’s mine, forever will be. What a nice show the two of you got,” he chuckles, before stabbing one of them, the screams could be heard from down the block.

Billy finished off the other one, not before giving her a good slap and punch. <3 The pool of blood covers the entire kitchen tiling, making it seem red everywhere. It’s on your shoes, on Billy’s. He takes his mask off, and picks you up in his arms.

“Did so good f’me today, sweet girl. So proud of you,” he praises you. “You did good too, Billy. I love how rough you are with them.” He smiles again, giving you a tender kiss. “Let’s leave, huh? Go back home, watch a scary movie?,” he asks. You nod, staying still in his arms as he carries you over the blood, and back out to the woods.

The two of you make it back to the van. They won’t catch you. As long as you’re together, everything was just fine.

[dearramiel]

billy desperately trying to babytrap his girl after she tries to break up w him🤭

This is so good.

✧ - baby trapping, subconscious manipulation, verbal abuse, violent!billy, billy is overprotective, obsessive, and possessive, implied stalker! billy, mentions of billy beating up jason tommy h & some other guy, controlling behavior, toxic relationship, gaslighting, guiltriping, unprotected sex( piv), breeding, cockwarming, mentions of tampering with birth control but it doesn't actually happen, hint of fluff at the end,

Billy's infatuation with you starts the very first day he looks at you, a beautiful, shy, charismatic girl who he could bend at will. He knew he would have you, it wasn't even a matter of how but when.

He was good at orchestrating everything, from the very first time you talk, the heated kisses, and first time hooking up. Billy wasn't your first, but you sure as hell felt like a virgin the first time you took him. He made you feel good, loved, he was sweet, caring, and charming. Just two months in, everything had changed. From the very beginning he knew you were different than other girls he had been with, he never had a girlfriend, and it hit him like a shock. He started acknowledging how much depth his love went, at first it was just him messing around with another girl, but he had gone way off track.

It was hard not to, you had been the only girl to care for him, rather than his dick. You were different. You treated him different than any other person.

It wasn't all on him anyway, you weren't stupid, you knew what Billy's intentions were from the beginning, he'd never once talked to you, but it began to get hard to let go when he kept you around, not shoving you through his window after hooking up, not pretending like you didn't exist when he walked by you at school, offering rides after he proposed in exchange for him to be lenient on Max being late, or even how he had stopped going after other girls.

Everything was so sweet, until he let the intrusive thoughts in.

He started asking who the people you talked to were, walking you to classes you didn't have together during passing period, insisted on driving you to work after school, picking you up and dropping you off home.

Eventually his obsession turned violent, going after Jason Carver after finding you two together during a pep rally, a big misunderstanding that could have been avoided had he just asked what you were bringing to him.

Billy had become somewhat self aware of what he was doing, quickly becoming insecure, and hateful. But he couldn't help it, because he genuinely loved and cared for you, he wanted you all to himself, this sweet girl who let him in. He was good at guilt guiltriping you with that, telling you how much he loved you.

It made you feel restless, having to make sure you weren't talking to specific people he didn't like, making sure not to stare too long at some other guy, spending all your free time with him, letting him know that there was a test you had to make up before going to work. You felt like your life was being controlled, and inviting him over while no one was home was your biggest mistake.

Spring break had just started, it was a Saturday evening when Billy had received the call. Of course he'd pull up to his girlfriends house in under 10 minutes, especially when she gave the "It's important and serious.".

Billy was rapidly knocking on the door, yelling your name, and when you open to let him in, he can tell that something really is wrong.

You're spouting nonsense to him, being so annoying, talking about how he doesn't love you, and that he's obsessed with you. Part of which was really wrong, because Billy did love you. He just had this horrible way of showing it.

It doesn't take long for you to get him angry, he begins yelling back. Saying that Carver, Tommy H, and Smith deserved getting their asses flipped. To which you yell that he shouldn't go about fixing things with violence.

"I just can't do this."

And he snaps, eyes blurring, warm droplets falling to his neck, when he blinks he realizes that he's crying. And it has you shocked.

"What?" His voice is small and broken, it almost has you wanting to take back what you've said. But it's hard to do so, because he's scared you already.

"No, please no." He cries as he reached out to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, another act that shocks you, he's never been one to initiate affection. He's almost cradling you, "Can't lose you, please don't."

You're not sure if it's an act, one to lure you in, but you take the bait anyway. Because while the ideas of what he's capable of to the extent of his love terrify you, you also remember that you do love him too. That he's never once laid a hand, or ever been physically abusive to you.

"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean it. It's just, you scare me sometimes!"

Anguish breaks into his body, when the realizations kick in. It's a thought that's etched into his mind, the fact that you've thought about leaving him. The fact that you even said it.

"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you please.. I promise I'll take care of you." His tone sends shivers down your spine, it's the one he always uses, it messes with you subconsciously and you never picked up on it.

You nod your head rapidly, breathing in deeply when Billy's teeth gently sink into the flesh on the side of your neck. Your panting reels him in further, letting him take full control of your body.

You don't even know how you ended up on your back, in your room, and on your bed, both you and Billy fully nude. Both your bodies decorated with bites and love marks. You're crying into the air as Billy's cock is shoved into your aching tight hole. You can feel every inch of him, to the point where you swear you feel his tip hit up snuggly against your cervix, and Billy swears he feels it too, because he begins a brutal pace. Mouth stealing a heated kiss from you. Between the messy kiss, your stuttering moan fills his ears.

"Fuuuuckkk, Billyyy! M'gonna cum!" You whimper, arms and legs wrapping around his body, pulling him to you, almost inviting him further inside you. He's reaching the deepest he can, he's never been or even felt so feral during sex. Both his hands were clenching harshly onto the pillow your head was rested on, he's using it as stability to continue thrusting so hard and fast, he feels like he's also about to cum.

"Yeah? Then cum, need to feel you all over me." The thought alone is enough to send you spiraling, a gush of liquid seeps out, drenching and covering his abdomen and cock in your cum. A long moan rips through you, your walls clamp so tightly around Billy that it only takes a couple more thrusts before his cock plunges into the deepest part of you.

"Fuuck! Babe'm gonna cum, cunt is all mine, gonna breed you so they know you're mine. You want that, don't you?" He groans into your ear, burying his face into your neck, your response is nonverbal, it's just you frantically nodding your head up and down before you decide to speak up.

"Yes! Please, Billy, want you to make me yours!" You babble, then it happens cum begins filling up your insides until you feel full. Billy's weight drops on you then, cum still spurting a few more times before he is absolutely spent.

You can feel him soften inside you, little bits of cum threatening to spill out. The feeling has you whimpering, it's then that Billy remembers he's still inside you. When he goes to lift himself up, a whine is heard from you.

"Billy.. no, don't go.. please. Wanna stay with you like this." You beg, your tired eyes droopy, your arms still holding him tightly.

"Not going anywhere baby. Love you so much." He slurs, high of sex, leaving kisses all over your face.

"I love you too, Billy.. so much.."

He had you right where he wanted you.

Those condoms he planned to poke holes into weren't really necessary after all.

[lunayaps]

My tags are getting a little too out of hand.

[toxicanonymity]

that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good

Every inch

1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.

SEQUELS | Slasher masterlist

Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist).  You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.

Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up.  It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car.  He smells faintly of weed and sweat.  You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand.  You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure. 

He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried.  It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare? 

You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you.  Your heart pounds in your chest.  You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body  closer and your heart nearly stops as  your inner thigh softly nudges  his hand.  But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it.  Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches.  He’s only somewhat hard,  but obviously packing.  He still doesn’t move.  His chest is rising and falling with his breaths.  You know he’s alive.  Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more.  You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.  

What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately.  It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear.  You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you.  Stabbing is penetrative after all.  Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him?  After all, he’s only a man.  Why not, you think.  This could be your best chance to find out.  This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation.  You’re turned on thinking about it.  If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose.  Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.

Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush.  The tables have turned.  You’re on top of him now.  You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer.  You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is.  Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you.  Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself. 

-

His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up.  But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.

Then you have a thought.  You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react.  You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing.  You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap.  Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.

His mask moves.  He seems to look at you.  Then a soft, low sigh.  You lower your crotch again and he’s harder.  You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder.  A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.  

You’re going to have to have him.  This is your chance and you can’t resist it.  Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again.  You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient.  You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband.  His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock.  You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs.  Your core aches to be filled. 

You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance.  Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch.  He moans but doesn’t move.  Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt.  His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full.  It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time.  You wonder if you could just fuck from now on.  If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.

You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness.  You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly.  You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.  

-

His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms,  unable to free them from the headrest.  He’s groggy and weak.  You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming.  You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.

His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race.  “Knew it.”  Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard.  Always wanted this cock.  Knew it.   He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.  

“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger.  Nasty Girl. 

He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips.  Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him.  You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.  

You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls.  You decide to jerk him off as a power move.  You kneel into the open door frame of the car.  You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist.  “All ya had to do was ask,” he says.  All you had to do was ask.  You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street.  Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.

“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade.  He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.

You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly.  His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.

You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants.  Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe.  You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤

[hidden-poet]

To have and to hold.

1/1 Disclaimer: I have not watched Billy the kid. This story is based on an internet search, and a can do mentality. No cannon events or characters.

Warnings: Dark!billy-the-kid, non-con, light stalking, technical kidnapping, spit, mature, 18+ only, porn-with-little-plot, non-fandom based writing, Reader POV, reader not described but can be picked up, definitely not historically actuate but you are reading about getting railed by billy-the-kid so you can fuck off if you have a problem with it. Dead dove, do not eat.

A/N: I am so sorry that this was late, and also rushed. The tent scene felt like I was pulling teeth out. I had no idea where I was going with it.

unedited.

You always knew Billy had a crush on you.

You would catch him staring at you from across the market. He would try to talk to you every chance he got. Always trying to find out more about you. He was awkward mostly, unfitting to his position of power. Despite his eager attempts to gain an audience with you, his eyes often floated around the room, and the conversation topics only always grazed the surface. 

Nevertheless when you excused yourself from him, he always seemed disappointed but never stopped you. 

You never minded the attention. You were flattered by it. Before him, none of the town's men paid you too much mind. Your family wasn’t rich, and your face was too plain to gain attention away from the wealthy girls.

It helped too that it was handsome. Dangerous. Big broad shoulders and striking eyes. He was good at his craft. Some say the best.

He was good enough to keep the vultures away from town. For a price. Him and his gang kept the town safe for a portion of everyone’s profits. It was a small profit compared to what he could have asked but added up quickly amongst the business that bloomed with his protection.

The regulators became the law after running out the corrupt and keeping out wild gangs that would come and pillage.

There were worse men to be left in charge. Overall his reputation was good but money was to be paid, or houses were to be burned down.

He had men to look after. They had to be fed and housed with a few extra dollars in their pockets to halt their boisterous nature.

From the few times he did use a heavy hand, it left a strong reminder to the community that Billy’s word was law.

Even with his sheriff- like position, he was still considered an outlaw. Wanted in multiple counties. Wanted in yours not too long ago. Before he and his crew became the new law. So you had to keep your distance as much as you could, and avoid situations where you could be seen alone with him. The town mostly thought of you as a poor target for Billy but a few whispers about you were already causing damage to your reputation.

 Anyone connected to the regulators was treated differently. People wanted to distance themselves from the group that controlled the area. Anyone found being too friendly with the Regulators were ostracized. Your family couldn't afford to be outcast. The family business relied on steady connections and loyal customers. 

So you don’t mind the flirtatious talk in private or burning stares so long as it never proceeds from that.

To help this, you avoided him where you could but some days it felt as if he knew your schedule better than you did. 

You tried to switch it up by going to town a day earlier than you usually would, but fate had it that it was the same day as Billy’s collection. 

People hush as Billy and two of his men come into the convenience store. Some leave while others push themselves to the back of the store. You try and hide your face behind a series of hanging baskets as you watch the group walk confidently in. 

Billy greets the shopkeeper respectfully but the men he is with are arrogant and begin playing with the objects on display. You knew them as Jim Greathouse, and Tom O’Folliard. Both long-standing members of the Regulators. 

“Good evening, Mr O’Conoly. How are you today?”

“Good, Billy. Thank you”. The shopkeeper places a pouch of money on top of the counter for the men to take. 

Billy takes it first and places the small pouch in his pocket, thanking the man, and asking about his family. 

You try to make your escape moving from behind the baskets towards the door. Your face heated with just the thought of talking to Billy in a room full of people. In passing or at a public event was unavoidable, your townspeople knew that, but talking so friendly in a shop. It would bring your family shame if it came across too familiar.

But you were too hasty in your exit, your feet too hard against the floor. The shuffling caught his attention. Worried that he might be offended with your behavior, you pretend to look at the pears on display as if contemplating. 

The sound of his feet against the floorboards matched the beating of your heart. 

You pretend to look busy as you inspect the pears but could feel his searing stare as he approached you.

“Miss y/n”’ he took off his hat as he spoke as a sign of respect.

You nodded your head towards him as a sign of respect back, “Mr Bonney”.

“Billy. You can call me Billy”.

You nod back with a tight smile, keeping your eyes focused on the produce in front of you. To encourage Billy by calling him by familiar terms may give him the wrong impression.

"You look awful pretty today"

"You say that every day, Mr Bonney".

“I mean it every day”. He stands close to you, leaning his frame over yours. With his height it could have been intimidating but you knew he meant no harm.

“Did you need help shopping today? I could carry your basket for you” His fingers reach out to your basket but you tug it back against you. 

“Thank you, Mr Bonney, but I will not be buying anything today. I must get home. I suddenly don’t feel well”. 

“Wait” He reaches out and gently captures your arm to stop you from turning. It was the first time he had ever touched you. It felt like you had been zapped with electricity. 

You pull quickly out of his grasp and look around the shop. People were staring at the scene. One wrong step and it could be the end of your family's good name. You step further back from him, solidifying that he was the same person to them as he was to you. 

Billy holds his hands flat out in surrender, telling you he had no further plans of touching you. 

“I was just wondering if you planned to be at Maria's wedding?”. 

Maria was a friend of yours, of course you would be at her wedding. You wondered why he was asking, he knew this too. 

She was often with you when he approached. More than that her soon-to-be husband was friendly with Billy, and borrowed from the Regulators to finance a farm. 

Because of that, would he now be invited to the wedding? Would you be stuck avoiding him the whole night?

“I do,” you respond. If you lied and he was invited it would be an uncomfortable evening, but has telling the truth now placed you in a difficult spot?

“I was wondering if you might fancy a dance or two with me?”

A sudden loud clanking noise stole the spotlight from you. Jim had knocked a table of grain and spilled it over the floor along with the serving cup. Tom bellowed at his friend's mistake, kneeling over from laughter. 

“I am sorry, sir” Billy said to the shopkeeper, “He will pay for that”. 

Tom laughs louder, earning a shove from Jim. 

“Clean it up” Billy demands with a click of his fingers. Jim snatched a nearby rag and kneeled upon the floor under Billy’s stare. You make a quick exist while he is distracted but he follows you across the floor. 

The shopkeepers goes to help clean up the mess by bringing a broom but he is insulated by Jim as he nears. He throws the dirty rag at the man and questions why he didn’t bring a broom sooner. 

Billy’s attention is once again caught. He looks at you as you pass through the door but Jim continues to hurl insults at the undeserving shopkeep. Billy turns direction away from you to deal with the situation. 

“Hey. He’s paid his dues. Leave him alone” was the last thing you heard as you raced down the steps and to the path back home. 

You bash your hand against your forehead as you take the dirt path back to your home. It felt good to release some of the tension you felt. You had kept your composure through your walk through the back of town but could feel it bubbling under the surface. 

You should have left as soon as he entered the store. Now you were left in difficult position and only the feeling of dread around your friends wedding. 

How would you be able to avoid him for the entire time? Your only hope is that he will avoid you while you are with your family. 

You swing your empty basket. The trip to town and back was a 40 minute walk across a hard pebble road. You’d have to make it again tomorrow. 

You wondered if you would see him again. Billy normally placed himself in town to correspond with your schedule. 

Would he ask for a dance again or had you wounded his pride? What is the right answer? 

Yes would leave the town talking for weeks. Might even affect your fathers business.

 No might make you an enemy of the Regulators.  Which is the last thing you wanted to be. 

Perhaps if you took more chores, your sister would take your trip to town. 

She was stubborn though. Would want more than her fair share to swap tasks. You begin your negotiations in your head. 

Preparing for when you get home, when the sound of galloping horse upon the gravel approaches you. You move from the path to let the horseman pass, but it slows next to you. 

You look up at the rider, just making out his face under the sun. 

“Mr Bonney. What are you doing?”. 

You eye the area to see no one else. A blessing and a curse. 

He swings off his horse next to you.  

“You said you felt ill. I thought it was best to see you home alright”.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr Bonney”.

“Please, I insist. Riding would be faster than walking”.

“How would that look, sir? Sharing a horse?”.

“You could sit, and I’ll walk him along,” he suggests. His hat covers his face in shadows. It made it hard to see how he was processing your words.

“No, thank you, sir. The walk would be good for me. You go on now”. 

“I’ll walk alongside you”. He readies the reins of his horse between his hand for a walking pace.

“There’s really no need” you try. 

“There’s also nothing stopping me” he returns. 

It puts you back on one foot. He had never spoken to you like that before. Conversations about the weather, and upcoming community events were the only things really talked about. Sometimes he would ask after your family, and your health. But he found that broader, more unfamiliar topics worked best to elicit a conversation. 

You once helped him pick out a ripe watermelon when he asked you but he had never refused to stop bothering you. 

He walked beside you with his shoulder almost touching yours. You try to create distance by walking on the edge of the road. The rocks slip off the edge of the road under your feet. It makes for an uncomfortable walk, in which your ankle twists from the uneven ground. 

“It looks like rain” he looks up to the sky and its dark forming clouds, “I sure hope it clears before the wedding”. 

You tense as he brings up the wedding. It was surely a ploy to reintroduce his offer. In an attempt to discourage him, you only offer him a nod. 

One wrong step and you tumble of balance towards the surrounding dirt. 

“Careful” he hand latches on to your arm, pulling you back on the path. He moves himself and his horse over to the center of the road, pulling you along with his hold, “Don’t want you breaking an ankle before our dance”. 

You paused to consider a broken ankle as your way of escaping the dance, but it would immobilise you and Billy was sure to sit by your side the entire night. 

“I don’t dance, Mr Bonney. Two left feet I am afraid”. 

“We’ll get along fine”

“I might not be well enough to attend anyway”. 

“Oh” he looks ahead at the road, “That would be a shame”.

The horse kicks, impatient with her pace. 

“Settle” he commanded with a pat to its nose. 

“She’s used to going fast,” he tells you. 

“Please, Mr Bonney. I would hate to upset your horse”. You gesture for him to go forward and leave you.

He laughs at you. A sweet, airy laugh. 

“She'll be fine”.

You knew he meant you no harm. Even as you walk with him miles from anyone you felt no fear. So you walk in a comfortable silence next to him, your feet falling into step with his own. 

“If you need a break, let me know,” he spoke. 

You wondered why he said such a thing, forgetting your own lie. Quick in your recoup you bring your hand to your forehead 

“I will be fine. Home is not too far off”. 

He offers you a drink from his water flask which you decline. He had reached for it although from his saddle and you still him with a hand on his shoulder. It freezes him.

In return his eyes freeze you as he peers back over his shoulder.

You’re not sure why but an apology falls from your lips. 

“No” he assures, “No-I”. 

Neither of you were sure where to go.

He puts the flask back, turning to you with empty hands. 

You didn't notice that you had stopped walking until his horse kicked impatiently.

“I have to get home” you state. 

You pick up speed and return to the silence as you walk alongside him. 

Out of nowhere and somewhat timidly he reaches a hand out and places it on your shoulder. 

You jump back at the unexpected contact. Half expecting the hand to claw and punch you down to the ground. But it releases. 

He squints his eyes at you, surprised at your reaction. 

“You don’t think I would hurt you. Do you?”

You weren’t sure. He’s never been aggressive towards you. But stories of him being a dangerous man made their way around the community. 

“No, Mr Bonney”. 

With home so close it urges you to pick up the pace. He keeps it easily. 

“Is that why you didn’t want me to walk you home? Because you thought I would hurt you? Y/N, I would never”.

His hand once again goes up to touch you but you knock it away. 

“Mr Bonney, may I remind you that you are a stranger to me. That I am an unmarried woman, and you are an unmarried man. If some one were to mistake this situation, it could cause great damage to my reputation. My family's reputation, and livelihood".

He looked hurt that you had spoken to him like that. He stopped his fast pace beside you, and you took the opportunity to continue on without him. 

“Well we ain't strangers” he says as he nestles up beside you again. 

The walk turned silent again and it remained that way as you passed through the wide field to your home. 

Your small family home comes into view, and thought perhaps you could shake him. But he doesn’t leave you as you open your gate. 

“Thank you for seeing me home, Mr Bonney”, You try.

“Anytime Miss Y/N. Maybe one day you could invite me around, and we could have tea”.

You slam the gate shut between you. By allowing him to walk you home, does he think that you were opening up to him? 

“I am not sure my father would approve”. 

Billy’s eyes fall to the ground. He doesn’t look up as he speaks. 

“I see”, he states, “Well, rest up and I’ll see you at the wedding”.

You hear the talking of your mother and sister as they bring the washing back up to the house. If they came too close, he would try to start a friendly conversation with them. The risk of your father seeing, and shooting is already high. You needn’t add to it. 

“Goodbye, Mr Bonney”, you bid. 

You leave him at the gate, scoping your mother and sister into your arms and back into the house. 

—

The day of the wedding came. The whole house woke up in excitement but you felt more heavy than you should have. 

You tried to strike a balance between dressing nice and dressing too nice that Billy would think you dressed up for him.

Luckily, Miara relied on you the whole day to complete last minute things. While the others were gathered in front of the church, you were in the field gathering flowers for her bouquet. After that you helped her dress and do her hair. It all kept you away from the guests right up to the wedding. 

You dash inside the small church to find your seat before the bride was ready to come in. 

You saw not only him but the entire group of the Regulators sitting at that back corner out of the way. They were all clean and dressed nicely to Billy’s request. Their hats were taken off their heads in respect, and not one of them spoke. 

Billy’s body shifted as he saw you. It straightened, slightly turning towards you as you walked up the aisle to your family. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked. You couldn’t help looking back at him. 

You took your seat next to your sister in time for the band to start the wedding march. Maria slowly walks down the aisle, you try to keep you focused on her during all of the service but his stare burns a hole in the back of your head. 

All too soon the ceremony was over. Maria and her new husband stop to greet Billy as they pass. Maria’s husband gets a firm handshake as Billy says something to him and Maria is brought in for a kiss on the cheek. 

They acted like old friends despite their true relationship as debtor and debtee. 

Once the newlyweds make it to the door signaling for the rest to follow, you form a barrier of your family to keep you away from Billy as you pass him. The Regulators go to move out before the rest of the guests but Billy blocks the path by putting his hand on the front pew. Manners were important to Billy but less so to his group.

Billy and the Regulators walked behind the guests to the reception held in the field of the newlyweds' new farmstead. The couple had hired a live band, and borrowed tables and chairs.  Candles and a large fire was lit as it darkened. People danced and laughed amongst the Regulators, but you found yourself trying to keep busy to avoid any conversation. 

If you remained for too long in one spot, you could feel Billy closing in. Only the request from your friend on her big day made you pause. She needed help dishing up the punch as the speeches would begin soon. 

All your efforts of the night were wasted as you distributed the drink into the many cups. You were a sitting duck, and you could see Billy closing in. You rush, half spilling the punch on the table. People distracted him as he made his way over. It gave you hope you could finish before he reached you. 

“Whoa, slow down” Maria jeered. 

“Sorry. Can you find someone else to do this? Mr Bonney is coming over and if I get trapped talking to him it will ruin my night”. 

Maria slaps your arm hard causing you to spill a whole cup of punch. 

“I won’t hear that talk about Billy. Not after what he did”. 

Your friend goes back to pouring but she has now peaked your interest. 

“What did he do?” you ask. 

Maria places her cup down and leans closer to you as if it was a secret. 

“Our wedding present was the farm. We own it. Debt free. He let us off”.

An expensive wedding present from a man who barely knows the couple. It was also a dangerous thing to do. How many people will now be expecting debt to be wiped free after every major life event. 

Billy made his way over. You don’t turn from Maria but she ecstatically greets him. 

“Can I lend a hand, Maria?”. He stands too close, your shoulder almost touching him. 

Maria declined his offer of help but he picks up the empty cups and holds them out for you to fill. 

You don’t speak to him as you work but he continues to swap the cups under you. 

“Let's start passing these out” Maria spoke to you, picking up a tray and disappearing into the party. You follow suit, picking up your tray without a word, but Billy takes it from you, placing it back on the table. 

“I was wondering if you were ready for the dance you promised me?”.

“There are many girls here, Mr Bonney, who are dying for a dance”. You hint at him. You look to your father who is watching you from his group of friends. 

“That may be so”. He is resolved to his position. Although you knew it was unintentional his hand went to his gun holster light resting on the leather belt. 

 It was best not to make a scene so you give him a curt nod and head towards the crowd of people dancing. A dance at a wedding is hardly anything scandalous. He follows close and when he feels like you are far enough into the dance floor he takes your wrist into his hand and spins you towards him. 

“Are you having a good time?’’ he asks as you move together to the festive music.

“Yes”. You wish you could have said more but your brain felt muddled with him so close. You could feel his strong shoulders as you rest your arm around his neck, and his strong fingers squeezed around yours.

“It didn’t rain” he comments. 

“No” you agree. 

“You look beautiful in that dress”

“Thank you. I borrowed it from my sister”.

A man calls out to Billy, taking the attention off you for the second that it took Billy to give an acknowledging nod. 

You spin out from his arms in sync with the other girls. It reached the part of the song where partners were swapped but Billy held tight to your hand and spun you back into him, leaving the next man looking for his new dance partner. 

Billy jerks his head in the direction of the girl who was supposed to take your place.

“Over there” he suggests. 

The dance continues and you resume your position as Billy’s dance partner. 

“That’s not how that dance goes” you scold. 

“Not going to let you go that easy”.

He spins you out and back in again, “You told me you were two left feet. You seem to be doing alright to me”, he says as he holds you close. 

You push yourself out of his hold and back  into dancing formation. Cozy in the arms of the judge, jury and executor is not a good look. 

“That may be because you are two right feet”.  

He laughs causing you to giggle with him but you were acutely aware of your fathers protective stare. 

“See we make the perfect pair” he boasts. 

His remark silences you. Too many flirtatious exchanges could leave the wrong impression. 

“How are you feeling?” Billy asks softly, “I ain’t spinning you too much, am I? Did you want to sit with me for a bit?” 

“No” better to get the dancing out of the way for the night, “no, I feel fine”. 

He doesn’t spin you again. Instead keeping you close in a gently swaying motion. You follow his lead around the floor. A few stared but most were too consumed with themselves to notice. Only your father paid true attention. 

“Maria told me that you forgave the debt on the land” you said after a moment of nothing but dancing. 

He nods back, a small smile on his lips as he looks out to the other dancers. He was pleased that you knew.

“I did. We want to see prosperity in this land. Farmers are important in that”.

Suddenly his jaw became hard, and his hold loosened. 

“Wouldn’t that be right, Harold?”. 

His change confused you. Instead of dancing with you, he had pushed your body behind his, gripping the fabric of your dress around your waist to keep you still, and had his gun pointed straight. 

You move as much as you could to see Harold Fern, the baker in your community. He looked disheveled as he held out a shotgun.  His hair was a mess, his clothes half done up and wrinkled His cheeks and nose burned red with intoxication. 

“You son of a bitch” slurred Harold, “You took everything from me”. 

“I don’t know what you mean, but you better get that gun out of my face before I put you down”.

You shrink yourself as small as you could against Billy back. His hold tightens as he feels you move. 

Harold scoffs, “You ain’t that quick”. 

“Yes, I am” he threatens. 

Harold sways as he thinks about Billy’s statement giving Billy the time to try and talk so sense into the man. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Harold. Don’t make me. Whatever you think I have done, I am sure we can fix it”. 

“Your taxes put me out of business. My fathers business, my fathers’ fathers business. You and your gang come in demanding a share from the work you don’t do”. 

 ‘I am sorry, Harold, Truely. But your business would have been gone long ago if it weren’t for us. You think the Casa gang would have left anything if they were successful in their attack? We stopped them. What do you think would have been left of this town if we didn’t?”. 

With the man subdued, you move from where you pressed up against Billy’s back to move from the line of fire. But Billy’s hold on your dress would not loosen. You resumed your spot against his back, hoping that the bullet would not go straight through. 

“If it’s a loan you need I can give it to you, but I can also send you to the grave after your father if your finger itches towards that trigger anymore”.

“Billy!” you hear a voice of one of the regulators. The surrounding people gasp as another gun is brought out. 

“It’s alright. Harolds here just had too much to drink. Why don’t you take him back to his house and i’ll be by tomorrow to see if we can figure out a solution to his problem”. 

Harold must have chosen to drop the gun because you heard the shoving and shouting from Billy’s man and not the ricochet of a gun. 

The grip on your dress is released and Billy turns towards you placing his hands on your shoulders. 

“Are you okay?”. 

You shake him off, aware of the audience still staring at you. Billy follows your gaze around the crowd. 

“It’s alright everyone. Let’s get the music going again’’ 

Billy raises his hand to your arm once more but you are pushed away before it lands. Your father had come to your rescue quickly pushing you through the crowd. You look back at Billy. He doesn’t move. Just stares until you are out of sight. 

You don’t see Billy for the next week. His men did his collections. You only saw them around town, never him. You figure he was laying low after the wedding incident. 

Your days became dull again without the excitement of Billy. Your chores became chores again without the added threat of Billy laying in wait. 

Miss may be a strong word, but something felt off when he wasn’t around. You figure you had gotten so used to a state of anxiety that normalcy felt strange. 

He would return, you ensured yourself, just enjoy it while it lasts.  

On the tenth night of his absence from your life you think that maybe he had skipped town, and you would never see him again. The Regulators would need a new leader and you shudder thinking who it could be. 

You sleep with the thought of him on your mind. Who would protect the town if not him? Who would fill your days with excitement and wonder? You scold yourself for the latter thought. He was an outlaw. A villain. Blood soaked his hands.  He was a bad man. The leader of bad men. You sleep with hateful thoughts of the Regulators and their leader. 

You wake with the sound of your dog scratching at your door. Begging to be let out. The night was cold. Even with a large blanket and the windows shut, you shivered. 

You sigh as you get up, quickly looking for your robe. It would do little to keep the cold away but something was better than nothing. 

It was odd for your dog to wake to pee. It only happened when he was a pup and that was long ago. 

You follow him as he races down the steps, trying your best to be quiet so as not to wake your family. The dog is energetic, scratching at the main door. 

You ‘sh’ him as you open it. You’re greeted by a wave of freezing air.  

The dog ruined your plans of staying on the porch as he disappeared into the darkness forcing you to follow down. 

The cold grass sinks into your feet, the moisture soaking your soles. You could barely see your dog in the dark with his black fur. Only the sound of him peeing told you he was still there. 

You stretch as you wait, looking up at the night sky. Slowly rolling your head in a circle. In doing so, you could see a small flame in the distance. A candle still going just outside of your father's shed.

You go to blow it out before it catches anything on fire. Another odd occurrence. Your father rarely lit candles due to their cost. He was sure to blow it out before he finished. Still he is old like your dog. They are both slipping from their good habits and you would need to learn to be more gracious. 

You bend down and with one quick blow, the flame is gone. Rising once more, you decide it is time to return to bed and go to call your dog over. 

His name never gets off your lips. It’s sealed shut by a strong gloved hand pressed over your mouth, and the feeling of a cool barrel of a gun pressed into the side of your head. 

“Sh, sh, sh, be quiet”. 

Your gut dropped, you knew the smooth voice of Billy. With faith he wouldn’t hurt you, you try screaming into his hand. He shook you a bit but no harsh hand was used to silence you. 

“I said quiet”. 

You do. You once heard that he shot a man off his horse a mile away. Now with a gun pressed into your head you didn’t need too much persuading to do as he said. 

“We’re going on a little trip, you and I” he whispers in your ear. 

Where was your dog? You wondered. Why couldn’t he sense you were in danger and come save you. You were no match for Billy. 

“Okay?” he asks.  You nod in response. 

“Okay, move”. He keeps his hand across your mouth, and his gun buried in your back, using it to move you forward. 

It’s not too far before the sight of his horse is seen only thirty feet from your house. He releases you and halters his gun so he could cup his hands to help you onto the saddle. 

You look back at your house, not too far in the distance. If you ran could you make it? If you screamed could your family hear it?

“Come on, now. Don’t keep me waiting”. 

Deciding you couldn’t make it, you slot your foot into his hands, and he hoists you up to the saddle. He got up more easily, and with a swing of his leg he saddles up behind you, bringing the reins and his hands down upon your lap. 

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“It’s not far. Just some place I go to think”. 

The horse is ridden at a leisurely pace. The cold air attacks you, and you find yourself curling into Billy’s warmth. 

He doesn’t speak to you again but you could feel him trying his best to protect you from the cold wind. His body barricaded around you, trying to keep you warm. At one point when the wind blew especially hard, he planted his large warm hand over the side of your face and pressed the other side of your face into his chest.

With the amount of shock running through your body, you weren't sure if the ride was short like he promised. It felt like an entirety by his side. 

When you arrived at the camp, the fire was already going, and a tent was set up. 

He dismounts first and then reaches back up to help you down. 

“Why have you brought me here?”. You accept his help down, his horse wouldn’t go without him. 

“To talk. Some place where you can’t run away”.

His words should have carried more weight, but you knew they were said in a non-threatening manner. 

There was a log near the fire that you used as a seat while Billy remained across from you. 

“I’ve missed you these past few days. Been real lonely without you”. He kicks the dirt under his shoe and watches as it jumps from his force. 

“We were never friends, Billy”. 

Billy. The name seemed to have just fallen off your lips. 

The sound of his name gave him courage to look up at you.

“You’re right. You’re right. We skipped that stage”. 

His eyes go back down and he is silent once more. 

“Y/N, your daddy’s never going to approve of me”.

“No” you agree, “No, he’s not”. 

His eyes flick up back to yours, his stance hardens, his shoulders square and his eyes peer down at you.

“So. Where does that leave us?” he asks. 

A large gust of wind blows through the camp, straight through you. Your body hunches from the cold

“Are you cold?” he asks in a state of shock that he could ignore the obvious. He doesn’t wait for your response, gone into his tent before the question fully parted from his lips. 

He brings out a thick wool blanket, and wraps it around your shoulders before going back to his side of the fire.

He rubs his hand across the bottom of his face, his other hand positions on his hip. You wondered what he was thinking. Why he looked so worried when he was the one in the position of power? 

“Billy?” you asked softly. His eyes flicked from the ground up to you. “Billy, take me home”. 

“You know God told me that you were the woman for me’’.

“Did he?” you ask cautiously. 

“Years ago. I saw you in town, I said ‘God, if she’s the one make her drop her bracelet’. And you did”. 

He reaches into his vest pocket pulling out his pocket watch to show you the chain. He brought it over to you. In the light you could see that he had melted the gold of your bracelet to his small gold watch and fashioned it into his pocket watch that he carried daily. The ends of the bracelet were melded but the gold that was braided together looked identical to the bracelet you had lost.

 It was your bracelet. One you lost nearly three years ago. The clasp was broken, you shouldn’t have been wearing it but it was one of your favorites. 

“It’s just a coincidence. It doesn’t mean anything” you said. A broken bracelet was hardly uncommon for a woman who had little money to fix it. 

This seemed to anger him. His face scrunched up and his movement became rough and short. 

“Coincidence? Was it a coincidence tonight? I had a burning desire to see you and you just so happen to be outside waiting for me”.

“I wasn’t waiting for you”.

“Well something brought you outside to me. You don’t call that fate?”. 

“My dog”. Your eyes slowly weep as Billy the kid turns into Billy the outlaw. 

To run a group of outlaws. To kill men, and control a town, you knew he had to have a dark streak. No matter how well he hid it, there must be something lurking underneath to be able to exert the violence needed.

His hand flys to his forehead, rubbing it as if you were causing him a headache. 

“You ain't listening. Me and you. We’re connected. Meant to be”. 

“Okay” you agree. Unsure on what else to do. “Billy, I am really cold and would like to go home now”.

“Here” he comes closer to you, bending down and helping you to your feet. 

He picks up a lit lamp by the fire, and tries to lead you forward. 

“It’s warmer in the tent”.

Your heart jumps. Alone in a tent is the last place you want to be. 

Your arm jerks from his touch as you speak, “Take me home now”. 

His hands grip your arms too tight.

“Home? What if I gave you a new home? One where we could be together”.

The cold air no longer bothered you. Billy was the law. Whatever he did would be met with no consequences. 

“I’ve been thinking, if your daddy won’t approve no matter what. Maybe we shouldn’t ask him” he continued. 

You struggle against Billy. How quickly after all this time that his touch became hurtful.

“I need my father's blessing,” you state. 

“I was worried you would say that” he remarks. 

The force on your arms changed from holding you still to pushing you forward. 

“Billy get off” you shout. 

“You won’t listen to reason” he retaliates. 

The door of the tent wasn’t tied so you were easily pushed through the fabric. You fall onto the laid mattress with no strength to raise yourself while Billy does ties up the door to keep the cold air out.

“Billy” you cry. 

He lays down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back and up your neck. 

“Everything is fine. I’ll take care of you”.

“Billy, don’t do this,” you pleaded. 

“If I can’t make you see my love, I can make you feel it”. 

He rises to rid himself of his suspenders. You sit up on your legs in front of you, with no harsh hand pushing you back down.

You capture his head between your hands, only talking when there was no attempt to shake you off. 

“Billy, think about what this will mean for me”. 

His eyes feel cold as they graze upon you, “I am thinking about you. About us. He can’t deny the marriage if what is done is done”. 

Feeling his head push forward under your hold, you go to make one last plea before his lips meet yours. 

“Bil-”. His kiss is hard and possessive. 

His body soon follows, and the weight of him presses you to the floor. 

Shoving at his shoulders doesn’t do much to deter him. After a handful of hard kisses, he changes positions, straddling your waist so he could sit up and unbutton his shirt. 

His movements are quick and rugged like having to get rid of the clothes was an annoying chore. 

Despite his dangerous line of work, and the odds, his body is free from scars and bullet holes. His tone chest and strong shoulders flex as he moves to throw the shirt to the corner of the tent. 

You’re memorized by his beauty until his hands reach for his belt. Your hands spring up to stop him, only this does he resist. 

“It’s alright. It ain’t going to hurt” he places a hand on your chest to keep you down while he undid his holster’s belt buckle, “I told you I would never hurt you”.

With the leather belt free, he slides the gun in the holster up along the ground. 

The button of his pants only takes a twist of his wrist and he is left in his underwear on top of you. 

“Get off” you yell at him but he continues by dragging you up to where the pillows are laid. 

He positions one of the pillows directly under your head for your comfort as you kick, your head rises and falls into it. 

His hand loosening the front tie of your nightgown stills the fight you had. 

“Billy, wait” you request. 

“I have waited. Nearly three years”. The nightgown is pushed off from your shoulders, and pulled down the rest of your body. 

The shake of your body is attributed to many things, the cold air that swarmed you, the shame and fear of it all, the fact that it was your first time being bare to a man. Billy took it to mean the cold and adjusted the blankets so they were pressed up against the sides of your body. 

The hand on your chest left as you stopped moving and both hands were moved to unbutton your underpants. 

“I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry’’. 

He leans down to kiss you again as a distraction to get between your legs. He is there before you know it.

He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them. You wondered what he was doing before he brought them down to your sex. 

You try to tell him to stop but your brain couldn’t muster it. Only a gasp escapes your lips as you feel him enter you. 

Its uncomfortable at first and you squirm away from him

“Stay still. It’ll get better” he promises. 

In an attempt to aid the friction, he leans his head down, spitting into cunt.

The extra moisture does help your arousal. Soon you are wet enough for his fingers to sink into you. 

He takes them out, not wanting you to finish too early, and brings his fingers to his lips to suck off the moisture. 

His hand comes down next to your head as lifts himself up to take off his underwear. 

“Is it going to hurt?” you ask. There was no point in begging. You had reached the point of no return. 

“Maybe. For a little bit, but it will feel good too. I promise”. 

He lines himself up with you, and with a final kiss he plunges himself into you. 

It feels as if he hits a wall inside of you. You were certain it was as far as he could go but his hips hammered into you determined to break through. 

You were about to tell him that you had taken as much of him as you could take when he does break the wall. It was a searing pain as if he had cut you. You let out a tisk of pain, reaching up and clawing at the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with Billys’. 

‘Sorry. Sorry. I know” he says, but the rhythm of his hips remains the same. 

The pain subsided after a couple of thrusts that felt terribly uncomfortable and sore. It was replaced with the pleasure he promised you that built in your stomach, and tingles between your legs. 

Still, this was not how it was supposed to go. Not in a tent in the middle of the night. Not outside of marriage and not without your father permission.

You throw your head up from a particularly hard thrust, and notice his gun still in the holster just beyond your fingertips. Your head was too scattered to form any thoughts. Otherwise, you never would have reached for it. Even if Billy had been a stranger from the saloon, you could never kill a man. 

You had no intention of killing him. You had just wanted to touch it. The gun of Billy-the-kid. 

“What? What do you want my gun for?” As he leans up to reach for it and you feel his cock push up into your stomach. 

He brings it out of his holster with the barrel pointed at your head, but his finger is far from the trigger. 

“Don’t you know a man’s gun is part of him? You should ask a man before you touch it”.

The gun pushes further and down to your lips. Billy’s eyes were dark. The awkward boy that used to court you was buried in the furthest part of him.

“Open your mouth” he commands. 

With the taste of metal at your teeth, you do part your lips enough for the tip of the gun. A struggle could lead to an accidental misfire. 

His thrusts in time with the movement of the gun. His eyes focus on your lips, the way they curl around his barrel. 

The metallic taste overwhelmed your tongue and your nose. It felt as if you could still taste the smoke on it. You are slow in your movements so not to startle him as you pull your head back.  

His stomach flutters and he loses his composure as you do.  

“Fuck” he sputters, his eyes close and he picks up pace, “That was hot”. 

You shake your head, pushing the hand that held the gun away from you. 

He drops his wrist down from your face, and slides the gun back over to his holster in the corner. 

“It’s gone. It’s alright, it’s gone”. 

The hand is repurposed against the side of your face, and his rhythmic pace is returned. 

“I wouldn’t hurt you” he tells you once more. 

“You’re hurting me now” you groan. 

His face scrunches up, and his thrusts come to rest.

“No,” he says, offended. 

“No. That aint what I am doing”. 

His hands on the back of your shoulders lift you up against his chest, as he hoists your bodies together into an upright position. 

Your hands grip on top of his shoulders, and you rest your forehead against his collarbone from the pressure of him inside of you as you sit on his lap. 

“Look at me” he orders, but your position suited you just fine. 

You rock your head against his shoulder blade in response, which satisfied him. 

“The only way I would hurt you now is by leaving you. No man but those desperate or widowed would have you after I am done. Your family would never recover their name. Now I’ve made it clear that we are to get married, so no hurting is being done”. 

His fingers dig into your hips so hard that there was sure to be bruises littering the skin tomorrow. 

“Ain’t no sin for a husband and wife to become one”.

“We are not married,” you remind him. 

“What’s marriage but a commitment to God to have and to hold the other? I’ve made that commitment. You have too. I know you have. If it wasn’t for your daddy we’d be married a long time ago”.

“Billy” you groan. The lack of movement frustrated you. He had started an itch that now needed to be scratched. 

To ease your discomfort, he brought his hand down between your bodies and began to gently swirl his finger around your pearl. 

“I built you a house, you know. Told myself I couldn’t touch you until I drove the final nail in, and the day I do, you appear at the market a day earlier than you usually would. We’re connected. Every bad thing has led me here to you”.

Your nails dig into his flesh as the pressure builds in knots within your stomach. 

A frustrated sound makes its way from your throat when he suddenly stops, moving his hands around the back of your neck and around your waist so he could lay you down and finish. 

His pace is faster and harder. It cuts off his ability to talk any longer. Only groan and grunt. 

As you tighten around him and pulse as you come, it invites him to join you.

As soon as he is off you, you turn to your side away from him. What would happen now? Would Billy leave you here? Would he kick you out into the forest? You worried that he spoke of marriage out of lust that had now been fulfilled. 

He seemed content with your presence, as he reached out to gently scratch the back of your neck. 

You can hear animals outside the tent as they scurry around.  Billy regains his stamina beside you and the silence between you both stretches into the night. 

You focus on the sounds of the frogs and crickets as they perform in perfect harmony. The sounds and sex lull you to a tired state, but Billy wasn’t through with the night. 

With a small kiss to the back of your neck, he was pushing back on your shoulder to lay you flat again. 

“No” you protest, too tired for much more than a simple plea, “Not again”. 

It was late. Possibility early morning. Your body wanted nothing more than to shut down, now that the adrenaline has faded. 

“Yes. again. We gotta make sure we put a baby in you”, he states, positioning his body once again over yours. 

—--

You woke up alone in the tent. Two blankets were laid on top of you keeping off the cold, but the dull ache between your legs told you to get up and go back home. You found your clothes on the floor, noticing that Billy had taken all his.

The sight of Billy eating on a log relieves you as you exit the tent. You had no way of getting home without him. 

He gets up from his seat as he sees you push back the fabric of the tent. 

“Good morning” he greets, “How are you feeling?”

“I want to go home. Now”, you demand. 

He looked like a spoiled child getting told off by a parent. His head lowers, and he clasps his hands together in front of himself. 

“Yeah. We should be getting back” he agrees. 

His head rises again and he beckons your forward with his hand.

“You need to eat something before we do. I made porridge”. 

You take his place on the log in front of the fire and his jacket. Without a word, he takes his warm jacket off himself and helps you put it on. 

A bowl of warm porridge is placed in your hands, and then he leaves you be. Giving you space to process your emotions. 

He packs up the tent and gear while you sit, unable to eat what was given to you.

Even in all the time it took him to pack away the tent and all the camping equipment, you had yet to take a single bite.

You watch as Billy kicks dirt into the fire, smothering your warmth.  

The bowl is gently taken from your hands where Billy flicks the food away, and rinses it with his water bottle before packing it away.

You follow him to the horse and he helps you up on the saddle the same way as the night before. 

The swing of your leg as you try to hook it over the saddle is executing. 

You shout from the pain, feeling the mussels as they pull to extend your leg.

“Easy” he soothes, helping you back steady on your feet. 

You shove him off. It was his fault. Your body was in pain and your life was over because of him.

He stubbles back from the sudden shove but he comes back without reproach. 

“Here” he says. 

He swings up to the saddle, leaning his body down to pull you up. You sit across the horse’s saddle, legs together to ease the pain.

Billy rides slowly for you. The day was sunny but a chill still hung in the air. You wondered how Billy went on without his jacket. 

The ride took you through trees and along a stream of water. It was not far from your home but you had never been there.

With a twenty minute ride your home came into view. While distant you could see your family as they gathered on the porch. 

The galloping of the hoofs stopped their discussion with a loud relief. 

“She’s here!” your sister yelled back into the house, “She’s back”.

Your father runs outside to the porch watching with hard eyes as you and Billy ride. 

Billy halts his horse a meter away and slides you down the saddle onto the ground. He is quick to get off behind you, holding your reluctant hand in his. 

You saw your father disappear into the house as you crossed the distance. He wasn’t a fool. He knew what Billy had done. The shame must have been too overbearing for him. 

The rest of your family were all still in their robes as they stood on the path waiting for you to come near. Your mother held out her arms but Billy stopped ten feet away under the shade of the large oak tree. 

“Ma’am” he greets your mother, “I am sorry for the distress I have caused your family, but as you can see she was safe with me”. 

The stickiness between your thighs became apparent as he spoke the words. 

You tug your hand back but he keeps it in his tight hold. 

The front door is kicked open and your father appears holding out his shotgun. 

Billy is quick to act, pulling you back behind him but he doesn’t draw his gun. 

“You get off my land” your father demands. 

Billy nods, “I will. We just came to collect a couple of things”. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your father was not a very good shot. He was old and aim was crooked. Billy was a far better shot. He wouldn’t miss. 

“Ain’t no we, boy. You get your filthy hands off my daughter, and you get out of town, or I'll kill you”.

Your mother growls her husband's name as she moves the rest of her children to the side. Only your father was under the illusion that he could take Billy on and live. 

“Now I plan to do right by her” Billy states with authority, “I’ll marry her”.

“The hell you will” your father roared. 

“It doesn’t have to end like this. You could live. See your daughters married with children. Die of old age like God intended”. 

“Draw” your father commands. To kill an unarmed man was murder, but your father was worried about the courts and not the Regulators who were sure to come seeking vengeance. 

You latch onto Billy's arm to stop him drawing his gun, or at least delay his aim so your father could have a chance. 

“You won’t mind if I get your daughter out from under me, now?” Billy asks, “Your aim has been off since you first pointed the gun at me. You could hit her instead”. 

With the agreeance of your father, Billy brings you back from behind him with a tight hold on your arm. 

“Go to the tree” Billy nods in its direction but you could hear your father calling for you to come to him. 

As soon as he releases you, the direction you go is not to the tree but to your family. 

You arm is caught and shoved to the right,

 ‘I said the tree” Billy reiterates. 

You follow his command this time, hugging yourself to the large oak tree. 

Billy takes his gun but holds his hands outwards in a surrendered position. 

“Just let me show you something” The crowd follows Billy’s eyes over to the work yard,  “You see that paint tin over there?”

A small paint tin rested on the lank of wood that was going to become the new fence. If you weren’t looking for it you would hardly see it from the distance. 

“What about it?” your father asks. The gun is unstable in his hands. It slightly bopped as he pointed it.  He was scared, and you wished you could do something that would deescalate the situation. 

“Just watch”. Billy turns to the tins direction and aims his gun with a steady hold. 

The first bullet sprayed the white paint as it went flying in the air. The second bullet hit it before it landed, flinging it further away and higher from the force. The third bullet shot it down with a hole in the center.

“Now we can continue if you want, and I can take her away without a father, or we can be joined together by marriage. That means no taxes”. 

Your father contemplates his options. He wanted to kill Billy, you could see that plain on his face, but could he?. 

The answer was no. The gun was lowered and your mother let out a sigh of relief. 

Billy beckons you back over, taking your arm back in his grip once you get close enough. 

“Pack your things, and get changed” he commands, “If you think about holding up in there, I’ll bring Jesse back and we’ll burn the house down”. 

You nod spitefully. His eyes looked over you once before turning back to the house. 

“Go” he orders, letting you go. 

Your family is quick to squabble around you as you trek into the house. There were too many words flown at you.Too many hands touching you as you moved. 

Only your father stayed away, Slumping into a foyer chair with his gun still in his hand. 

You were determined to do your tasks quickly and lead Billy away. The ache between your legs was ignored as you fling open your wardrobe and shove what you can into your travel case. It filled quickly, you only had two more dresses in your wardrobe but you left them favoring to take your make-up and hair accessories. 

It hardly zips, and lands on the ground with a heavy thud. 

You weren’t sure how long it had taken you, but the less time keeping Billy waiting the better. You grab one of the last dresses you owed out of your wardrobe, side stepping people as they went to hold you. 

“Help me with my dress” you call on your sister. 

“You aren’t honestly leaving with him?” your mother took a seat on your bed as if you had punched her. 

Stepping into the green dress and waiting to be laced up, gave them the answer that they ignored. 

“Billy is the law,” you remind them. 

Your sister silently agreed by stepping forwarding and lacing you into your dress. You put Billy’s coat back on to show him you still had it, and take the time to hug and kiss them all. Billy was not the kind to keep you from your family but it would be the last time you would see them as their daughter and sister. 

Your father was still sitting in the chair as you came down. He doesn't move as you bend down and kiss his forehead. 

Billy was waiting outside, his gun resting on his thigh was holsted once more in his belt so he had hands to take your bag. 

He straps it to his horse in no time, turning to wait for you. 

You took one more look back at your family on the porch before you were ready. 

You raise your arms up to Billy on the horse and he pulls you up to the saddle once more. 

The ride to the Regulators camp was silent and quite a distance. Billy had taken his hat off as the sun went higher in the sky, and placed it upon your head. 

It felt strange to wear Billy’s coat and hat. Less than 24 hours ago he was little more than a stranger. Now he was your self-proclaimed fiance. You could very well be carrying his child. It all happened so fast. Your head spun trying to piece together the facts.

The noise of the Regulators as Billy’s horse approached did not help your scrambled mind. They whooped and hollered. 

You could hear Billy’s smile as he greeted them but his horse never slowed. Moving past the building where the men sat drinking, to the furthest field where a wooden house stood tall. 

Across from the house was a horse corral where they trained the horses. In between your house and the first house of one of the Regulators was the stable where the horses were housed. 

In addition to the tax, you assumed the men also traded horses to earn a wage. 

It was a decent size of land and well kept. The house in front of you looked strong. It was two stories of wooden panels, and a large porch was wrapped around the entire estate. If you were to take Billy at his word, it must have taken him a long time to complete such a house.

He stops the horse in front of the house, swinging off first to tie the reins to the railings of the porch. 

He assures you that he will take your things inside when he comes back out to tend to his horse, but he was eager for you to see your new home. 

With help down, Billy leads you into the house. It was furnished. Nothing decorative but tables and chairs. The entertaining lounge had a large fireplace, and the kitchen had a large stove and a large window above the sink that pointed out to a field of flowers. 

It grew a distaste in your mouth. He had designed this home with you in mind. He always knew this day was coming and expected you to swallow the news joyfully and quickly. 

‘And this” he opens a door just beside the living room to show a smaller version. A dark red armchair and matching leg rest faced a small fireplace. An arched window that Billy had built in a reading nook and decorated with mismatched pillows, provided light into the room. 

“This is your room for when you need your space. I won’t step foot into it”. He looks at you expecting you to be overjoyed but finds you glaring back at him. 

“Do you like it?” he asks. 

‘I have your cum dried between my legs, and you are asking me if I care about a room?” you bit. 

He closes the door quickly and takes you by the arm to lead you up stairs, 

“I’ll get you hot water for your bath”. 

Billy boils the water over the stove as you sit in the chair and wait. A hip bath was placed against the wall in the kitchen. You go and expect it. Your family was too poor for one. A basin did the job fine. But you always wanted one. 

He doesn’t let the water get too hot, only luke warm before joining you. 

“Do you mind if I stay?” he questions as he gently places the water and rag cloths on the floor by your foot.

You don’t look at him as you talk. Your fingers reach for the laces of your dress but they touch his as he unlaces the dress for you. 

“What does it matter? The sin has already been committed”.

Your dress falls to the floor around you. You’re quick to leave your undergarments alongside it so you could climb into the tub. 

“You need to know I won’t ever do that again”. He squats next to you in the tub, bringing the warm rags up to your skin. You take one and focus on scrubbing the seaman off your thighs while he focuses on your shoulders and neck. 

“I’ll take care of you. Respect you like a good husband should. I won-”. 

“Your words mean nothing to me” you cut him off. 

He shifts as you lean back into the tub.

‘I’ll prove it to you”, he resolves. 

—-

The wedding was small with only your family and the Regulators in attendance. The priest married you quickly and you were placed on Billy’s saddle once more. No big party predeceased it. Your family went home, and the Regulators went back to their camp where bottles were opened. 

You could hear the Regulators as they used your marriage as an excuse to play from the comfort of the house Billy built you. 

He remained with you despite the protests from his gang. 

He remained quiet as you figured out the swell of emotions inside you. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. A quiet relief lingered in the back only causing more distress.  

When he bought you the dinner he had made for you an emotion finally stuck. 

Acceptance. 

William. H Bonney was your husband now. 

He kept true to his words. Patiently waiting for your permission. You slept next to him every night, but besides a gentle kiss goodnight, he never touched you. His patience granted him two willfully-born sons. 

He was a good husband and father. 

You and your children were never left without. 

You watch him from the window as he shows the boys how to ride. They were too small for the lesson to be anything more than a pony ride but it gave you time to put dinner on the table without them under your feet. 

He winks at you when he catches you staring. Unconsciously your hand goes to your belly. 

‘A little girl would be nice’, you think.

[976-emo]

my dream 5 secs before my alarm goes off.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Hi love!!! It’s absolutely been toooooo long since I set a request but I read your prompts & had to send this in!!!

Neighbor Eddie? Maybe he sees the new neighbor moving into the apartment next to his & gets a little obsessed with her? Constantly timing it out to see her in the halls or at the mail room, knows where she works so he “accidentally” stopped in, knows her favorite coffee shop, he’s just always “accidentally” bumping into her , possibly dark sorta stalker-ish story?? Idk Halloween got me in spooky vibes lately & i loved it!! if you’re not comfortable writing this I totally understand but as always I hope you’re doing good!!🫶🏼🫶🏼

(11. New Apartment and 16. A flock of crows) with Eddie Munson. Thank you for your request lovie, I hope this is deliciously spooky!!

Warnings: Stalking, obsession, Dark!Eddie, mentions of homicidal thoughts and torture, mentions of sexual content, 18+ content!

Days were becoming shorter and shorter— darker and gloomier. Through the bleak winter clouds your eyes were drawn to the inky crows circling above your head. Their squawks and wails so violent you could have mistaken them as alarm bells ringing in your ears. They knew something you didn’t.

It was evident that something wasn’t right. An ominous darkness that lay festering beneath the surface of the deceiving ordinary. You had felt it since you moved from your home town— since you had laid your head down to sleep that first night in your new apartment.

It was comparable to a pair of beady eyes staring at you from a shadowy corner. The coat rack that your brain had convinced you was a man looming at the foot of your bed. The feeling made itself known. It demanded to be felt.

At first, you couldn’t have possibly suspected the curly haired metal head who cozily lived across the hall was to blame for your bazar paranoia.

But then you began to see more and more of him…

Eddie was his name. Eddie Munson.

Time continued its endless march onward and you hadn’t noticed the pattern because you had blindly narrowed it down to mere coincidence that you were seeing him so often. And that’s how Eddie wanted it to be. Undetectable. Like micro dosing you with a highly addictive drug. He wanted you to think of him often, but he had to be discreet about how his practices were played out.

It started in the laundry room in the basement of your shared apartment complex. You would be waiting on your load of laundry to finish in the dryer whilst Eddie would be waiting for his things in the washing machine. This was the first of many evenings shared this way. You and Eddie stood silently whilst the clink and clank of fabric shook in the operating machines in front of you. He had clearly left some loose change or maybe a lighter in his pockets.

Until you decided to try and spark the first conversation, “You’re in apartment E, right?”

And that’s all it took for the poison to seep penetratively deep into Eddie’s psyche. He was enchanted by you. Blanketed in a fog of your perfume. Your voice like a siren song lulling him to a watery grave. You had bewitched him. He was hooked.

“I live right across the hall from you in letter F. I moved in last week.” Most people mistook Eddie’s silence as ignorance, but not you. You could see that he wanted to talk to you. You understood him.

“Eddie. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He replied sheepishly and you would be lying if you said that his voice hadn’t caught you off guard. Gruff with a hint of softness— like he hadn’t spoken aloud in a while.

There was an allure to him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. The way his cheeks heated and his eyes darted everywhere but your face. It’s almost as if he was being seen for the first time. Like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been…

“I heard you play guitar? Sounds pretty cool. I can hear it through the walls sometimes.” You offer him a polite smile to try and coax him out of his shell, but he remains reserved. His arms crossed over his chest and his wild hair falling into his eyes. His eyes that seemed to be the deepest shade of brown you had ever seen. Swallowing light and offering only darkness.

“Didn’t mean to bother you. I’ve been needing to sound proof my walls.” His voice remained lodged in his throat, strangled. He wanted to keep the words unspoken. Thoughts that were meant only for him.

You wave away his worry with a flick of your wrist, “It doesn’t bother me. I do enjoy a good thumping base when I’m doing the dishes. Gives me a reason to dance around and not look clinically insane.”

Your laugh left him stilted— like a deer frozen in headlights. It was a sound he had only dreamt of. Something pulled straight from a fairytale. Your claws sunk into his skin further and his entire body erupted in an itch to run away from you.

“Sorry, I sometimes get ahead of myself, my name’s—“

Before you had any time to even just simply introduce yourself, the brunette was taking off out of the room. Like a criminal fleeing a crime scene. Full of panic and spontaneity.

“Wait— you forgot your… laundry…” And at that point you were meekly talking to empty space. Bumbling like a desperate fool.

If only in that moment you had taken the opportunity to look inside of his washing machine to discover that it was actually empty all along…

Eddie’s uncontrollable fascination with you only worsened with time and he found himself dressed in a dark zipper sweatshirt and a black baseball cap— premeditating his plans before he saw them through. He followed you to and from where you worked at a small bookstore near the edge of town. His breath breathing a thick spread of condensation onto the window pane as he searched for you through the glass. He would stand there for ridiculous amounts of time, sometimes for hours.

However he knew that to avoid suspicion he had to come inside at least a few times. Just to be safe.

He would trace his painted fingertips along the spines of books in the music section of the library and he would pick up one or two of the hardcovers and glance at the front page and the blurb on the back. Just to try and show some sort of faux interest. He would do this all whilst keeping his intense gaze fixated on you.

Your warm smile that always met your eyes. The way your nose scrunched slightly as you concentrated. He appreciated each article of clothing you wore and how the colours contrasted and complimented you beautifully. He longed to hear you laugh and he despised whenever another man would talk to you.

It caused his mind to darken to places it never had before. He would contemplate torture and homicide. He would indulge in fantasies of tying the men up to chairs, beating them into puddles of blood and drool and then making them watch as he fucked your sweet pussy silly. It drove him insane. You drove him insane.

He blamed you for what he was becoming. This animalistic hunter who only had an appetite for you and only you. Nothing could quench his thirst. There was nothing strong enough to drown out the thoughts he had about you.

It’s how he found himself standing behind you in the queue at your favourite cafe. Eddie found the coffee shop to be incredibly basic and he couldn’t quite understand why you loved and preferred it over any other, but if it meant that he got to see you more often then he would come here for the rest of his life.

Eddie hated coffee. He couldn’t stand the stuff. But just because he bought one, didn’t mean he had to drink it. All he had to do was to look like he was. So he nestled himself into a small crook at the hidden away corner of the store and left himself the perfect view of you from afar. He had your order memorised. Alongside the scent of your shampoo.

One day he promised himself that he would work up the courage to let himself into your apartment and see what trinkets of yours he could take but it was something he appreciated that it needed intricate and precise planning. Perfection took time, after all.

“Eddie?” You beamed down at him, your small and white ceramic mug and saucer balancing in the palm of your hand steadily, “What a pleasant surprise! How are you?”

Eddie gulped thickly at the thought of being caught and his trained and alert eyes follow your movements as you take a seat in front of him, welcoming yourself at his small table for one.

“I’m good. How are you?” His answers were always clipped and short. Nothing too interesting to draw you in, but enough mystery to leave you wanting more.

“Same old, same old!” Your shoulders bounce in a quick and dismissive shrug but he already knew what you had been doing prior to this interaction, “Do you come here often? I swear I’ve seen you in here a few times…” You weren’t confident in your allegation which caused Eddie’s heart to settle in his chest. He had you right where he wanted you. Dumb and sweet.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He cocks one of his eyebrows at you challengingly and his lips curve upward into a sly smirk. In just a sentence he had disarmed you and you melt into your seat comfortably.

“I’ve become quite the regular here…” You sip at the rim of your cup, leaving traces of your lipstick behind on the pristine glass which Eddie knew he would be taking home with him later, “It’s just so cozy! I love it.” You snuggle down into the collar of your cableknitted sweater, the one Eddie had watched you buy from the second hand store just a few blocks over.

Eddie knew you so well. All of your cute mannerisms and your nervous tells. But you hadn’t the faintest clue about him.

Everything seemed to shift one morning when you had stumbled into Eddie when you were retrieving your mail from your post box. It had become a theme for you both to be grabbing your mail at the same time, and somewhere inside of you, a part of you that existed deep down, began to feel uneasy around Eddie.

You began to take notice of the look in his eyes. He always seemed to be somewhere else. Miles away. You could always feel his presence so close behind you, an eerie existence that you couldn’t ignore. His breath would sometimes tickle the hair on the back of your neck and you could have sworn you had felt him sniff your hair at least once of twice.

You started to try and avoid him at any given opportunity. You thought that because he never spoke to you much anyways then there couldn’t be too much harm in the matter.

The only problem was the double edge to your sword. You thought Eddie wouldn’t notice… but of course he did. And it angered him to a point of no return.

“Jesus Christ!!” Your hand clutches at your heart, your fingers fisting at the fabric of your sweater, “I didn’t even hear you come down the stairs…” Your breathing is erratic at the discovery of Eddie standing behind you. It was his intention to remain quiet— to catch you off guard. He liked to see you scared and riled up… it.. excited him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Although his words sounded sincere, they weren’t. But he knew that you couldn’t tell the difference, “You okay?” He is closer now and he is nearly fleeting at the reflection of himself mirrored in the irises of your gorgeous and blown eyes.

He hears you gulp down a pool of saliva and it causes his smile to widen further, “It’s awfully early to be downstairs, is it not? Where are you off to?” He nearly pins you against the wall of metal post boxes but quickly reverts to opening his own locker. It was empty inside but you didn’t have to know that. He enjoyed toying with you. Puppeteering your feelings like a master of strings.

“I’m going to work.” You were struggling to deflect the annoyance and fear in your voice and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle to himself lightly. It was a Sunday morning— you weren’t going to work. Actually, you were only down here to try and avoid running into him later on. You couldn’t hide from him anymore. He saw right through your charade.

“You’re going to work at 7 a.m. on a Sunday?” He pried further just so he could see you squirm. And the view was fucking delicious.

“Yes—“ He didn’t allow you to finish.

“In your pyjamas?” He takes his time as his eyes drink in your appearance from head to toe and you are suddenly under the impression that you may be in terrible danger…

“Well… I’m just about to go and get ready so… yes.” You slam your locker closed, twisting the key hurriedly and darting toward the staircase.

“One sec, I’ll walk up with you.” Eddie’s stern voice stills your movements and you shake your head, smiling uncomfortably. The corners of your mouth don’t meet your eyes. Eddie notices this.

“I really should get going—“

“And done.” He closes his locker with such gentleness that it makes your head spin and as he walks over to your rigid frame empty handed you feel your heart shudder in your chest.

“You didn’t have any mail?” Accusation is clear in your voice as you stare at his hands knowingly and Eddie stops dead in his tracks. His once warm smile falls from his lips and his eyes harden to as cold as ice as they meet your own.

“And you don’t have work today.” You watch his head tilt off to one side, like an interested dog listening to its owner for further command and your skin crawls with horrid goosebumps. Your stomach twists into anxious knots and your heart rattles so loudly in your chest that you are afraid he will hear it.

A dreaded silence falls over the empty hall, nothing to be heard but laboured breath. Your voice tremors with anticipation as you bring yourself to ask the question that you already know the answer to.

“How do you know that, Eddie?”

He offers nothing but a vacant stare, almost like he is waiting for you to make the first move. If you run, he will be sure to chase after you. But once he has you in his clutches— he won’t let you go.

“How do you know that.” You ask again, grasping the paper envelopes so tight to the point that they begin to crinkle in your grip. Eddie’s fingers twitch, longing to touch something. To touch you. To hold you still. He couldn’t handle much more of your minuscule frantic movements.

“I think you know how, sweetheart.” Groomed eyebrows perk up on Eddie’s forehead, beckoning you to antagonise him further. His eyes look scarily black now, lifeless like a shark circling its prey. He takes tedious and careful steps toward you but you match each one with a step further up the stairs.

“Well… I… I need to get going. Time is ticking.” You flash him one of your forced smiles again and it’s enough for Eddie to finally reach out and grab you from behind.

His fingers tangle through your hair and he yanks you back down from the staircase. Your envelopes aeroplane across the room and his fingers clasp firmly over your lips before your horrified blood curdling scream can leave your throat.

Eddie moans erotically into your ear as his nose tickles up the nape of your neck. His nostrils whiffing in your scent deeply like a bloodhound on the hunt, “Oh, baby. So soft. So beautiful.” He groans again as his fingers indent into your skin harshly and your thrashes against his restraint fail. Your back is flush against his hard chest and only one of his arms is strong enough to keep you there, “Finally I can have you all to myself…” His voice had shifted downward an octave and you can feel his wolfish smile against your neck before he starts to gnaw and nibble on your skin, “Hope you’re ready for the time of your fucking life…”

-

forgot I had a tag list whoops, my bad! Enjoy xoxo

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @manitskatrina @georgeweasleyslostearhq

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 9 // Masterlist

Warnings (18+): Nightmares (Billy’s past, and flashes of his attempted assault), angst, murder, torture, smut, oral, thigh riding, choking, bondage, use of dilators, tail kink, facials, cum swallowing, talks of body insecurity.

A/N: It's been a while but trust me this is worth it.

You’re reclined beside the pool, watching him as he carefully mixes drinks.

He moves with careless precision, easy, fast, as if he’d done it a million times before.

Something twists inside of you, arousal, followed by a deep warning.

This was the man that wanted to corrupt you.

To tarnish your morals, turn you into something you’d never seen before.

You wanted to let him.

You wanted to be every dark thing, you ached to be threads in his hands, to be created- or rather recreated by him. You wanted to be his medium, and allow him the moment to be the artist.

You adjust your body, covered by a fluffy robe, a modest bikini underneath. You’d been feeling a little self conscious as your cycle rolled around, the uncomfortable bloating was familiar around this time, making you feel exposed, even under the thick robe.

Yet still, you found yourself wanting him

The beach chair was reclined at a comfortable angle, the umbrella above sheltering you from the occasional sun.

With your eyes on him, watching him work quietly, cutting a wedge of orange for your glass, you lift one side of your robe carefully, pulling it open.

He pauses, knife halfway into the orange.

The corner of your lip twitches, reaching at the bond between you, flooding it with your arousal for him.

You watch his shoulders lift as he heaves in a large breath.

He hasn’t looked at you yet, and you know he’s going to try his best to seem unaffected, because reminding him of your power over him, makes him want to assert his power over you that much more.

It’s a fight you know is coming, somewhere in your future, where maybe you’ll pull at him, and he’ll pull back.

You push the other side of your robe off your body and he doesn’t react, you watch him pour your drink into a tall glass, garnish it with the orange slice and some cherries and turn to you.

You smile as he approaches, placing the drinks on the table beside you before fitting himself into your seat, angling his body so that you’re facing each other with no substantial space between you.

You hum, pressing your face against his clothed chest humming.

“You smell like oranges, Billy.” You take another deep breath, captivated by the smell, pressing your face deeper, “You smell so good.”

They really do smell delicious, the citrus filling your nose, flooding the back of your throat.

He raises a hand to cup your cheek, the heavy fragrance of it clinging to his hands. It makes you feel impossibly euphoric, and you don’t really understand why.

You look up at him, his dark eyes on you, he leans forward a little and you close your eyes, expecting a kiss.

“Careful.” He says softly, “You're playing with fire.”

You groan internally, excitement warming over your skin, clenching around nothing, your arousal being pushed down your bond unintentionally. 

You feel his fingers twitch against your cheek.

You open your eyes, looking up at him, finding the same desire in him that you feel.

“Does ‘fire’ want me to suck his cock?” You offer cheekily, blinking slowly at him in what you hope is a seductive way.

His expression is stern, but you simmer with delight as you feel his arousal returned through your bond. Like a hand, sliding over your skin, you grin at him when you realise he's not as unaffected as he tries to seem.

He doesn't say a word, instead his hand drifts over your shoulder, down to settle on your hip.

“You're such a little brat.” He hums, and you laugh, leaning into his chest.

After a moment, you feel him tug at the robe.

“Aren't you warm?” He asks.

Truthfully you were a little, but God, your body did not want to cooperate with you today.

“I'm alright.” You hum lightly.

“You're lying.” He informs matter-of-factly.

You make a frustrated grunt. Cursing the bond.

“Bloated,” you try to explain quickly, “I just feel out of it today. I might have gained weight.”

“I don't understand the problem.” He says, his tail snaking around you to keep you close.

“Just uncomfortable in my skin, it happens sometimes.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

You smile fondly.

“I'll be okay, I just feel a little insecure about my body, you know?”

“Not really.”

You look curiously up at him.

“You've never felt self conscious about the way you look?”

He thinks back for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I've never had to worry about it, my whole human life I'd always been told how good I looked.”

“Lucky bitch.” You say with mock spite.

He lets out a breath of amusement.

“I think I was more insecure about my wealth back then, none of it was ever enough. I'd be dressed as nicely as everyone else and still feel like I didn't belong.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand in comfort. There really was no way to reassure him. You couldn't even tell him his life was better now, he was literally a demon from Hell.

You wanted to tell him that he belonged with you now, but maybe the reminder of his ownership wouldn't help.

“Growing up,” You offer, “literally everyone had something to say about my body. I was either too skinny at one point, too chubby, too muscular, my thighs were too thick, my stomach- honestly the judgement carried out on women's bodies is ridiculous.”

He nods beside you, raising a hand to run his fingers over your cheek.

“The judgement is awful,” he agrees, “but I hope you know that you've always looked beautiful to me.”

You give him a thankful smile.

“And you, have always been the most powerful man in the room to me.”

You feel your stomach flip, it makes your smile grow wider.

“I'm not more powerful than you though.”

You glance away, looking at the shimmering pool.

“Well, if you wanted to be, I'd let you.”

He grips your chin, turning your head back so that your eyes meet his.

“What do you mean by that?”

You swallow, voice barely above a whisper.

“If you grew tired of me, and wanted your freedom, I'd give it to you.”

His grip on your chin tightens.

“Are you saying you'd die for me to be free?”

You blink, a slow incline of your head.

“I'd rather die than force you to be here if you didn't want to.”

He takes a moment, looking for the right words, trying to read you like words on a page.

“That's your insecurity talking,” he says, a minuscule amount of anger curls at the base of your spine, “There's no universe where I don't want you. Serving you for the rest of my life would be a privilege, mistress.”

You let out a shaky breath, pushing your body up so that your mouth meets his.

Your lips blister with the sparks of his touch, arousal swelling like a wave, desire pulling at you, grabbing at your ankles to take you in its current.

He sits up, hovering over you, eyes ablaze with fiery passion.

He tugs at your robe and it evaporates in a puff of purple, you gasp as your body gets the cool air it's been needing.

You look at him, as his eyes look over you, studying your body, wrapped in the modest swimsuit.

You watch his tongue dart out, licking slowly at his bottom lip, a strand of hair threatening to fall between his eyes.

“You are very, very beautiful.” He finally says.

You feel your nether regions pulse at his words, willing him to say more through the bond, trying your best not to look down, to shy away.

He leans in, hands gripping at your thighs, squeezing the flesh of your hips.

“I'm so glad you're made the way you are.”

A seed of hope settles within you.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because it's your body, and your body is perfect, but also…” He trails off.

You push yourself into a sitting position expectantly.

“Yeah?”

He gives you a dangerous grin, leaning in till his nose touches yours.

“I can fuck you, however hard I want, and you won't break so easily.”

Your mouth parts in surprise, going dry, so much desire packed into your head, making you feel like you're swimming in cotton.

“Does this mean you're going to start teaching me how to take you?”

He takes a sharp breath, eyes going ruby red in the span of seconds.

“Yes,” he says on impulse, his cock, rock hard and aching, “let me give you your first lesson right now.”

He grips your hips, switching your positions until you're straddling his midriff.

“Get naked for me.” He orders, and you obey, stepping away from him to eagerly peel your suit from your skin. When you turn back, you find that he's lost his shirt and his pants, his cock standing up in the open air.

Your mouth waters.

“C-can I-”

“-No.”

You pout.

He gives you a sharp grin.

“Come sit.” He says, patting his thigh.

You swallow nervously, approaching him, trying to figure out his plan of action.

When you get close enough, he reaches to grip your hips, he kisses your stomach before guiding your knee over his body until you're straddling him, his cock fitting snugly between your thighs.

You stiffen for a brief moment, a little worried that he would enter you before you were ready.

“I'm not-”

“-I know,” you cut him off with an apologetic smile, able to read him, understand him so easily now with almost no effort, “It’s only a reflex.” 

He lets out a soft breath, raising a hand to smooth the tips of his fingers across your cheek, you close your eyes as you feel the tingles spread across your face.

“That's the first lesson. Don't be scared of taking me.”

You blink several times, refocusing on him, trying to figure out how he could possibly know something like that. 

You'd never given it a name, or even thought about it, but you were scared, scared of letting someone in, scared of the pain it might cause.

He holds your hips, pushing them back a fraction, to pull them forward again, your mouth drops open as pleasure erupts from between your legs as his cock glides against your sensitive centre.

“I know you, mistress, I can feel that small touch of fright everytime I get too close. I want it gone. I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” you pant as he continues rocking your hips, “It's just a little bit of paranoia kicking in, my brain just makes me worry about the ‘what ifs’”

“I understand sweetheart, but if you're taking me, and you get scared, it'll only make you hurt worse. So I need you to trust me, I need you to relax for me. I need you to understand that I'd choose Hell over having you be afraid of me.”

You groan, tipping your head back, your hips beginning to undulate on their own.

“Good, mistress, rub that little pussy on my cock, don’t worry about anything else.”

“Feels s’good.” You whisper, doing more and gasping in surprise when the tip of his cock bumps your clit.

“Yeah?” His hands tighten their grip, “You like using me, mistress? Do you think you can cum like this?”

You're not even sure if the answer is yes, but you nod anyway, with Billy, anything is possible.

His hands on your thighs, over your hips, you hear him grunt, feeling an immeasurable amount of want in the back of your head.

“You’re so fucking soft,” He grits out, hands gliding up to cup your breasts gently in each hand, “Every part of you is divine.” 

You whine, aching for more of his praise, wondering, if his words are more effective than your motions are.

You beg him silently to continue.

His fingertips brush your shoulder, trails down your arm.

“Every time I look at you, I’m thinking about how much I enjoy touching you, and tasting you, and feeling your perfect body shudder and shake. Those sweet eyes, begging me, always fucking begging me- “ You feel him tremble below you, before his fingers grip the flesh of your behind firmly, manipulating your hips into moving faster, the head of his cock gliding right over your entrance, a surge of bliss washing through you with such suddenness that your back straightens in surprise.

The temptation of being full of him, the nearness of this sinful act, feels euphoric, pleasure filling your head as he catches on the rim of your cunt for just a moment. You whine, wanting to hear him speak more, no fear in your body as he glides easily between your legs, your arousal coating his cock evenly.

“You have no idea how desperate you make me,” Billy continues, almost rambling, your soft cunt eager on his cock, he feels himself throb, body begging, unable to get what it wants.

“Nothing will stop me from having you, nothing will keep me away.” He grits. “I don’t care how long it takes, or whatever changes. You’re mine. This thick, perfect body is mine. You belong to me, and I am going to relish claiming you when the time is right.”

He comes at the same time you do, ropes of his own spend splashing against his lower abdomen and all between your thighs and cunt. You gasp, looking down at the mess you’ve made, feeling it smeared onto your body, shared fluids mixing together between your thighs as you both breathe heavily in an attempt to catch your breath.

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, watching his cum be wasted like this. You swipe a shaky finger through the mess, bringing it up to your lips. He groans as he watches you taste the evidence of his pleasure, sitting up suddenly till you're face to face. 

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. There's never been any doubt to me, of how beautiful you are, mistress.” You look into his dark eyes as his hand comes up to cup your cheek. You swallow, hypnotized by the depth of the emotion in his eyes, feeling it seep into you, intoxicated by him.

Your eyes flutter closed as you lean in, vulnerable to him, unable to stop until your mouth meets his.

Your demon.

You smile against his mouth, something… something you can't put words to enveloping every sense you have, his kiss, mouth melding perfectly with yours until you swear that all you can feel is him.

You break the kiss with a gasp, head against his chest, a hum of satisfaction leaves you.

His tail loops around your waist, keeping you still, your naked bodies pressed tightly to each other. You tug at the bond, and you smile when he gives his own pull in response.

“I'm glad you're here with me, Billy- and I know that sounds selfish, you've been through so much- but just the thought of us never meeting each other-” you cut off with a frown, not wanting to make it seem like you were happy that he went through what he did.

“I'm- I'm glad we met.” You murmur finally, looking up at him apologetically for your words.

He lets out a slow breath of amusement, watching you stumble over your words.

“You're acting as though you haven't suffered as well. Suffering is a part of life, mistress, Hell is everywhere. Some people suffer through life and never get close to what you and I have.”

The words are hard to say, but you manage to find the strength.

“What do we have?” You ask cautiously, hoping to hear him echo your own feelings.

He breathes, wrapping his arms tightly around you, crushing your body to his.

“Each other.” Is his simple response.

.

Each other.

You smile, the words echo in your head. Beside you, he sleeps soundly, one arm over his middle, your legs tangled together beneath the sheets. 

You sigh, curling into him, wishing you could sort through the chaos in your head. All the things that have happened, the things that brought him to you. You were not happy they occurred, but you wouldn't change anything, if it meant you would lose him. How could you hate your past and be glad it happened? It was a very strange place to be.

If they had summoned any other demon, you would be dead or worse now. 

Instead? 

You sigh, half asleep and reaching for him in your head.

Instead you were here, warm and safe and protected from anything the universe could throw your way. All because of the man, the demon, sleeping in bed beside you.

“You're one pretty kid.” a gruff voice says. 

You gasp, eyes springing open. You're not in bed anymore, standing in the doorway of a locker room, a little boy a few feet in front of you. You can see his face in the mirror, one of confusion and mild fear. 

Beside him, a man places a hand on his shoulder. It looks affectionate at first, but you soon realise that there’s no love there, only perversion.

You take a step forward, wanting to separate the figures from each other. You move faster when you see the man's hand raise to cup the boy's face. No matter how fast you move, you're still in the same spot and after a few moments, you stop, realising that you're not getting anywhere. 

Everything flashes next, like a video game with a low frame rate you see flashes of the boy being advanced upon, watching him fight back and hold his own for a few moments, before the man finally gets angry.

You scream when the boy is thrown to the ground, fighting whatever force holds you back, trying to get to the little boy, his blood splashed on various items around the room. When the man is done, he simply washes his hands and leaves. It's only then, that you're allowed entry into the scene you're watching.

You get to the little boy, lying on the ground, just as he shifts, and your breath stutters in your throat as he turns into the man you know today, right before your eyes.

“Billy?” You whisper in horror.

He sits up, his eyes have gone fully black, blood still splashed on his mouth and hands, face already bruising from his previous ordeal.

He stands, not sparing a glance at you, he stalks out of the room.

You follow, unsure of what's happening but knowing you were safest with your demon, regardless of whether he could see you or not.

The man is older now, when Billy grabs the back of his shirt and lifts him as though he weighs nothing, you note that his hair has slivered and his skin has wrinkled.

Billy's voice is rough, angry, he presses the man against a wall, fingers around his neck.

“How many?” He asks, the horns on his head getting larger, his nails getting sharper.

The man's face goes red, he kicks and cries, eyes wide as he watches Billy's demonic face.

His nails sink slowly into the man's neck. You gasp, turning away, unable to look at the horrors happening.

You hear it, the screams, the gushing of blood. Your breathing speeds up, you raise your hands to cover your ears as the sound echoes, multitudes of screams fill your ears, panic in your heart, wishing you were home, away from all of this pain and suffering around you.

You say his name, a quiet whimper, wanting your demon more than anything.

Hands wrap around your wrists, forcing your hands from your ears, you look up with tear blurred vision, to find a terrifying version of your demon looking back.

“Wake up.” He says to you, his voice cutting through the multitudes.

You gasp awake, sitting up, heart racing in your chest. Beside you, he sits up too, making you jump in surprise.

He looks normal now, no trace of the terrifying demon from before, you gasp loudly, struggling to breathe.

“What the hell-” You gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts.

His hand brushes your arm, you jerk in surprise, turning to look at him. He blinks, drawing back, feeling rejected by you. 

You grab his hand before he can retract it all the way, you find difficulty in speaking, shoving your tumultuous feelings down the bond so that he knows none of it is directed towards him.

He blinks, inclines his head in understanding, keeps his hand in yours.

Your heart is still racing, trying to understand what you've just seen, wondering how you've seen it.

“Did all of that really happen?” You ask softly.

“Mostly.” 

“That kid… that was you.”

“Yeah.”

You turn to look at him. He looks back with cautious vulnerability, an expression that you can tell is hanging on to your every word.

“That's why too much attention makes you uncomfortable. Those scars on your shoulder-”

He nods, confirming your suspicions.

Your face twists into one of pain, eyebrows drawn, mouth curved into a frown. You lean in, wrap your arms around your demon’s shoulders and you squeeze tightly.

He lets out a puff of air, hands wrapped around your waist to crush your body to his.

Your hand grips the back of his head, fingers carding through his soft hair, you turn your head, kissing his cheek, his temple, trying to apologise to him for something you didn't do.

You don't know what to say to him, what will make this better, you know that he's probably thought about everything you could possibly say.

Still, you have to say something, knowing that he has to hear it from someone that's not himself.

“I'm sorry.” Is what you finally settle on.

Muffled into your neck, he shakes his head.

“It's okay.”

“It's not. You didn't deserve that, no one does. I'm sorry it happened.”

He's quiet for a long moment.

“For a long while, I really thought I did deserve it.”

You feel a sharp pain spear into your heart at the thought, you squeeze him tighter. 

“You were just a kid.” You whisper, voice cracking, “You were so small, you couldn't be more than ten. This was not your fault.”

You feel the anger overtake you next.

“Did you kill him?”

He says your name softly, and through the bond, you feel his reservation to disclose details that might unsettle you. 

“Tell me, demon. I won't run.”

“When I was older, he passed me in the street, didn't recognize me. My left shoulder doesn't settle properly and he didn’t even remember my face.” 

“I broke in, waited for him to see me, for him to remember who I was, but he'd done it so many times all the faces of his victims blurred together. I shoved a bat through his chest, and when I found him in Hell, I didn't have any mercy.” 

You bend your head, kissing the first piece of him you can get to- his horn- his hands tighten around you.

“I'm proud of you.” You say into his ear, and you feel him shudder, warmth wrapping around your spine, feeling him reach for you, and eagerly, you reach back.

What do you and I have, demon?

We have each other.

.

In the morning, after a luxurious breakfast in a pile of pillows on the jetty, you lie beside him, sated and full, finally finding the willpower to ask the questions you've been wanting to ask.

“Last night, how did I see those things?”

He breathes out a slow breath of air.

“You were in my dreams.” 

You blink, deep in thought.

“How did I get there?”

He makes an amused sound.

“Hell if I know, mistress. This thing between us, I've never had one for this long. I don't know how far it can go.”

You look up into his dark eyes, tugging playfully at the link you share until the corner of his mouth twitches, and you feel your pull reciprocated. 

“Do you think- could we visit Father Matt again? Just to see what he knows?” 

Something burns in your chest, the feeling is sour, similar to the symptoms of acid reflux.

“We don't have to.” You clarify, figuring that this sensation wasn't your own, but belonged to your demon.

“No, we should, he might have books on demonology that could help.”

You give him an apologetic smile, leaning to kiss his cheek softly.

“That's my good demon.” You praise.

You hear his deep intake of breath, and when you peek at his face, his eyes have gone full black, veins of dark blood spread from his eyes, fizzling out across his face.

“Mistress.” He says roughly, His voice having dropped a few octaves, a deep and unfamiliar sound that makes your lips part in surprise. It's a warning, you realise, that you've said something to elicit such a potent reaction.

It reminds you of the dream, of the way he looked- a monstrous version of himself.

He turns his head to study you, your heart pounding faster in your chest as you feel an enormous amount of arousal seep into you through the bond.

Your nether regions warm in response, eager to push his limits, to really see his full demonic capabilities.

“Which part of that excited you?” You whisper softly, aching for friction between your thighs, “That I called you good, or that I called you mine?”

He growls, a deep grovelling sound that leaves his throat, one of frustration, of endless desire, of warning. 

Both, you assume, when the black veins worsen, spreading down his neck and into his shirt. 

You study the beautiful veining, the way they spread like branches of a tree over his skin, you bite down on your bottom lip, excitement beating in your heart.

“You like being good for me?” You ask, reaching up to tug the collar of his shirt down, examining the veins further.

He doesn't answer, breaths laboured, his hands curling into fists, fighting himself.

You reach down, gripping one of his hands to bring it to rest on the space below your ass, skin simmering with delight at the feel of his hot hand.

“Answer me demon.” You prod.

He grunts, tipping his head back, closing his eyes.

“If you don't stop. I'm going to ruin that little cunt.” He warns.

“You don't scare me.” Your voice holds a hint of defiance, “You're always telling me that I'm the most powerful person in the room. You're my demon, and I want an answer.”

His eyes open, zeroing in on you, he reaches for you with his free hand, tangling it into your hair, pulling you forward until you're practically in his lap.

“Call me your demon one more time.” He growls, “I dare you.”

You swallow, having never tormented him in this way, excited to see where this would get you.

With your cunt achingly wet, you lick your lips.

“Fine.” You say softly, with an appearance of giving up. You pull from his hold, rising to your feet. He watches you carefully, no doubt that he can feel the mischievousness hidden beneath the surface of your skin.

Standing on the jetty, the sea breeze blowing through your hair, you begin to walk away. When you're almost to solid ground, you turn back with a grin.

“You're my demon, Billy Russo!” You shout, to be heard over the din of the ocean. 

You expect him to stand and chase you, but when you turn to run from him, you gasp in surprise as you crash right into him.

It's so much worse now, the veins have spread to cover his hands, and you wonder absentmindedly if they've spread over his cock too.

He looms over you, somehow feeling significantly larger than you, even in this open space. 

His breaths are laboured, and when he parts his lips, you catch a hint of sharp canines.

This, was the demon you'd seen in your dreams.

You take a step back hesitantly, you can feel the phantom touch of his arousal moving around you, your skin sensitive and warm, sparking at your desire in response.

“Where are you going, mistress?” He reaches for you, gripping your hips in his hands to bring you closer. You look up at him with wide eyes, feeling so deliciously trapped.

“Your demon wants to play.” He taunts, his voice sending trills through your heart. He dips his head, and you realise what he wants, rising onto your toes in response, angling your head upward, eager to kiss this version of him.

You think it's going to be aggressive, but it starts slow, your lips moving gently against his, feeling the desire grow inside of you till you're reaching up to cup the back of his neck.

It's what he's waiting for, he makes a hum of approval before you feel his influence wrap around you, the air going from breezy to still, the sound of crashing waves changes to one of falling rain.

You draw back, finding that he's back to his normal self, dark brown eyes, rosy skin, free of black veins.

He watches you as you look around next, mouth dropping open in surprise as you take in the surroundings.

There's a very large telescope elevated behind Billy, pointing up at the glass domed roof. It's night here, and through the murky glass, you can just barely make out the ripples of cascading rain on glass. There’s one area of the roof that's got heavy plaster smeared on, no doubt sealing the roof from ever opening for the telescope again. 

There are candles spotted throughout the room that helps you see all of this, and when you turn, you gasp in shock at the beautiful sight before you. 

What catches your eye first is the circle of stained glass, your heart squeezing at the resplendent scene it depicts. Fractals of blue glass, every shade you've ever seen, compiled to form an image of the night sky, interspotted with yellow glass to represent stars, and an ivory, almost pearlescent circle to symbolise the moon.

On the outskirts of the mural, are swirling yellow pieces of glass, indicating that within the glass piece, the sun is nearby. The mural is large, and where it ends, the art continues on in coloured tile intermittently dispersed throughout the walls and floor. 

You don't get a chance to study that, because at the base of the stained glass, a bed, draws your attention next.

It's low to the floor, set into a circular wooden frame, surrounded by flickering candles. 

Dark green sheets, you giggle when you feel his hands snake around you, his lips finding their way to your neck.

“Do you bring all your mistresses here?” You tease.

He rumbles in disagreement.

“Only the ones that call me theirs.”

You huff out a laugh, heart full, swaying as he continues to kiss your skin.

“What is this place?” You ask softly, staring at the glass, in the dark, you can’t see anything more.

“It was part of a monastery nearby, back when they studied the heavens in an attempt to understand God. If the rain stops, you can probably hear their singing echo through the mountains.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“And they just forgot about it? That's terrible. Look at this place.”

He hums in agreement.

“It's actually one of the more spiritual places on earth. There are a couple, but this one has been gladly lost to time and reclaimed by the forest.”

“Why here?” 

He's silent for a long time.

“Before you, this was the closest I'd thought I'd get to heaven.”

You lips part, you turn your head to meet his eyes.

“What? Me?” You whisper, almost afraid to say the words out loud in fear that he comes to his senses and takes them back.

He turns you, hands gripping your shoulders tightly, all calm touches lost to desperation.

“You.” He confirms, tucking his fingers under your chin to tip your head up.

The kiss that follows makes your knees weak, you cling to him, gasping as your mouth works against his, feverish kisses that stop you from thinking, his tail wrapping around your thigh to keep you close like it always does.

It's familiar, but brand new, you can feel the way his need burns inside of him, like a fire that won't go out, it sparks yours, and feeds into his, like vicious and consuming cycle.

You make it to the bed next, trapped below him, his mouth never leaving yours, you're not sure how you got here, but you're not complaining.

Moaning into his mouth, you push your body into a sitting position, feeling the bed dips as he adjusts his body to sit beside you. 

His thumb presses into the side of your mouth, hooks against your teeth, pulling your jaw open. 

He pauses, stares at you for a moment while your tongue drags along the tip of his tongue.

You’re on the brink of insanity, you feel so intertwined with him, body crying out for any bit of him that it can get.

He slots his thumb between your teeth, your eyes falling shut as you breathe heavily around the appendage, sighing easily when he delves his rough tongue into your mouth.

All you can do is take, enjoy the feeling, unable to really reciprocate. 

It’s messy, barely a kiss and more of an enjoyment of your surrender to him.

“Tell me again.” He hums, slipping his thumb from your mouth, holding your jaw in place purposefully. You blink slowly, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“Say those words to me again.”

“My demon.” You say easily, looking up at him.

You watch his eyes go black once more.

He slides to his knees in front of you, reaching up to tug your bottoms off, you lift your hips to let it happen.

“Need to taste you, mistress.” He mumbles, as if it explains his feverish movement. 

He kisses the inside of your knee when he finally gets your legs bare, sighing in bliss each time his mouth meets your skin.

“You’re so soft. I love it. I never want to stop touching you.” 

You groan his name, his words melting right into your heart.

He knows what he's doing, praising you relentlessly because he likes the feeling of your reaction to it, a warmth spreading out from the deepest parts of himself.

His hands squeeze gently at your thighs, enraptured by the feeling against his palms.

Leaning closer, his warm breath tickling your mound, you shiver when he kisses the inside of your thigh.

“So good for me.” He praises, grins when he feels your reaction, “You're so beautiful.”

You shudder out a breath.

Reaching down, you grip his horn with a groan, trying to urge him into moving faster.

He accepts your guidance, you part your legs wider for him to fit between them, and after a moment, he guides your legs over his shoulders.

“My mistress.” He rumbles, dark eyes flitting to you before he presses his mouth flush to your cunt.

You feel his delight, tilting your head back, gasping at the level of enjoyment he feels. 

His tongue slides against your clit, sparks erupting in your head, you feel your body fall back onto the soft bed, a boneless mess.

He pauses, chuckling, retracting his body so that he can shift you, adjusting you till your head is pressed against the soft pillows, looking up at the curved ceiling.

His head pops into your vision, chest bare, he must have taken his shirt off at some point.

“Comfortable?” He asks softly.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding.

“Good,” he leans in to give you a quick kiss, “Enjoy.”

Your shirt disappears in a flash of purple, his mouth descending on your shoulders.

It's amazing, the way he feels, the delight coursing through his body as he touches you, the way it makes you more sensitive, makes you feel so much more desirable.

He trails soft kisses down your body, until he's back between your thighs, mouth exploring the most intimate parts of you.

It feels too good, you grip the sheets as his tongue works over you, kissing, licking, wet sounds of his tongue reaching your ears along with the sound of falling rain.

When you get too close to the edge, you sit up, making him pause and look up at you from between your thighs.

“I'm not ready to come yet.” You whisper, aching to prolong the feeling of this, the way you feel him and the way he makes you feel yourself.

He smiles in understanding, dipping his head, slows the pace of his tongue, explores you instead, delves into the most primal parts of you.

You tremble, the yearning so intense that your body shakes, and yet you close your eyes, and feel him, the demon between your thighs and the delight that fills him, the devotion.

You cry his name, feel tears slip from your eyes at the intensity of everything, your body aching for release while your mind demands you feel every second of denial.

You're everywhere, all at once, expanding from one singular point, he moves your legs over his shoulders, hands wrapping around your hips to hold your body tight to his face, cunt pressed flush to his eager mouth, the way it was always meant to be.

He moans, the vibrations soft against you, and then he moans again, delight and adoration coming from him.

Your head sinks deeper into the pillows, body arching, his fingertips pressed to your mound, holding you fast as you lose control of your own body.

You raise a hand, pressing it to your mouth on instinct to fight the scream you're no doubt going to release. An invisible force grabs your wrist, pinning your hands to either side of your head.

Trapped, you can only wriggle and his tongue licks over your clit, sliding from side to side, speeding up ever so subtly.

He hums again, and it's that low, delicious feeling of his desire that reverberates through your bones, locking them into place as your release slams into you.

Your back arches so forcefully that you swear you'll dislocate something, mindless whimpers and moans leaving your lips.

He keeps licking gently over you, soft, careful, attentive in a way that makes you grind against his tongue to prolong your orgasm.

When it's over, your body relaxes, panting, desperate for air, your heart pounding in your head, the back of your neck feverishly hot. You feel his invisible hold on your wrists release you.

He withdraws a little, kissing at the tops of your thighs, chin wet, leaving cool little spots over your hips as well.

You tilt your head to look down at him. You've never felt so many emotions before, yours and his, blending together in your head because you feel the same things.

“I would gladly do that forever.” He finally says, looking up at you.

You let out a breath, reaching a hand out to him, hoping that he can read your mind and know what you want.

He smiles, obliges, crawls his way up your body and covers you with his larger one, burying his face into your neck as your jelly arms wrap around him.

It scratches an itch in your brain to feel his large form over you like this, you feel so safe, protected, and something deeper, too deep to name.

“I'm not done,” he finally says into your hair, “Remember when I promised to teach you how to take me?”

Your breath hitches.

“Yes?”

He raised his body a little so that he can look into your eyes, the flickering of the candles reflected in them.

“I've got some… items to help you.”

He turns his head to the side, and when you turn to follow his line of sight, you see five phallic shaped objects lined up, the smallest being the width of two of your fingers and the largest being… just a little smaller than his actual member.

You gulp.

“Don't be scared,” he says, no doubt feeling your trepidation, “I won't hurt you.”

That, you believed. You turn to look at him, nodding your head, indicating your eagerness to begin.

He smiles, reaching for the smallest one with his tail. You lose sight of it, before you gasp, feeling it running along the seam of your cunt.

You look up, into his eyes, watching him watch you.

“You're so wet, this one will go in easy.” 

He proves his point by notching it against your entrance, twisting it slightly to coat it in your arousal.

It's like his fingers, you determine, mouth dropping open in delight as the object fills you.

“Breathe.” He guides, and you do, feeling him move the object in and out, pumping it into you slowly until you shudder, easily accepting this size.

“That's good, mistress, this isn't so scary, right? You just have to relax and trust me.”

You swallow, nodding, eyes locked on his. 

He withdraws this size from you, reaching for the next size up- the approximate size of his tail.

This one takes a little bit more effort, but it doesn't hurt, and you drop your head back, moaning as euphoria overtakes your body.

He chuckles above you.

“Yes, you're used to this size as well,” he whispers, pumping the shaft of the object deeper and deeper into you.

You whine, toes curling, a spot deep inside of you aching, threatening release long before you're even ready.

“Already, mistress?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, you can feel that he's just teasing you, but his words still draws another high pitched keen from you.

“I'm not even trying, you're just that needy, hmm?”

You nod your head eagerly, feeling him drag the silicone object out and then back in, pushing it fully into you.

“Fuck- Billy- I'm-”

“Don't, mistress. You don't cum unless I say.”

You wished it was that easy, you wish You could make your body understand and prioritize what your demon wanted above itself. But it just didn't work like that.

His hand moves under your head, fisting your hair tightly, grabbing your attention, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.

“Don't. Cum.” He growls, his eyes flashing red, as if that's supposed to stop you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath, trying to relax your body, looking up at him with teary eyes when you get yourself under control.

“Good.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

It's a good distraction, you focus on the kiss so much that you're not expecting him to reach for the larger size, pressing it against you with his hand when he withdraws the other one with his tail.

You shudder out a breath, looking up at him, feeling your cunt stretch, taking this size, feeling so unbelievably full, glancing over at the unused sizes, trying to figure out how much fuller you're going to feel with those.

It aches a little, and he pauses halfway in, to let you grow accustomed to the size.

His thumb brushes over your cheek, swiping at some of the tears slipping from your eyes.

“You tighten up when you come, it would have made taking this size more painful. But you’re doing so good, mistress, so good for your demon.”

You hum when you hear him say those words, tilting your hips up to drive the dilator deeper into you.

He smiles, taking your guidance, slowly working this size into you, before moving his hand away.

“This one stays for a little while, till you’re dripping around it.” He says, leaning up, and away, so that he can see between your legs. You feel his appreciation through the bond.

“That little cunt is so good for me. I can’t wait to break her in.”

You shudder, aching.

Experimentally, you squeeze your walls around the object, sighing when pleasure fills your body.

He gives you a breathy grin, watching you carefully.

“Good, get used to it. Maybe I should leave it in longer, it would be fun to watch you move around with one of these inside of you.”

You groan, he really was some kind of evil.

It was torture, you wanted to rock your hips so badly, your need to come was even worse. Your body was aching for release, and you weren’t sure how long you would be able to take it.

His tail wraps around your thigh, pressing gently against your clit. Your body shudders in response.

“Does it hurt at all?” He asks.

You swallow, shaking your head.

His tail moves softly on your clit, relaxing you.

“I’ll let you come on the next size, okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, skin growing sensitive with the need for release, “O-okay.”

After a few minutes, he gently moves this one out, and then in, getting you used to the sensation, your eyes closed, when he finally withdraws it, and presses the second largest one against you.

You go tense.

“No, sweetheart.” Billy murmurs, his tail pressing down firmer on your clit, “Relax for me, deep breaths, you can take it.”

He keeps saying that, mumbled encouragements, you can take it, so sweet for me, relax a little bit more baby, you’re made for this, promise.

Your breath hitches when he finally works the tip in.

He’s used some kind of lubricant to help it move easier, you tremble as you try your best to relax, to remind yourself that this is worth something, that you wanted to take him fully.

It’s a little uncomfortable, but most importantly, it doesn’t hurt, you hear the rolling of thunder outside, or maybe that’s just the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

“Billy.” You cry, a mix of pleasure and discomfort swimming inside of you, and he reaches to hold your hand with his free one, his words not stopping for a second.

“Perfect for me, sweetheart, you wanna take me so bad, hmm? Need to feel your demon’s cock fill you up?”

You nod, mindlessly thinking about it, the way he’d press into you like he did before, the way he’d move, the way he’d feel.

“Want you to cum inside of me.” You babble, watching his eyes go pitch black once more, eyes following the black veins as they trace their way down his body.

He tilts his head, studying you as you watch him.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.” He says, his voice deep- almost a low grovel, “You don’t want that.”

“Why not?” You ask, absently realising that he’s still slowly guiding the dilator into you.

“I’m a demon, mistress. A prince of Hell. Evil.”

You blink, shuddering when the dilator finally presses tightly against that spot deep within you.

“So?” You challenge, trying to focus on two things at once.

“You think I’m attached to you now, there won’t be any letting go if you give yourself to me like that. Remember a few days ago when you offered to break the bond if I wanted?”

You nod your head, cunt full.

“If you let me cum deep inside of you, I’ll never want to let you go, ever. I’d own you, mistress, you’d never be free of me. If you ran from me, I’d chase you. If you hid, I would find you. There is no corner on Earth you could ever go to, that would rid you of me.”

Your lips part, cunt clenching as he slowly pumps the slick dilator in and out of you.

“Please,” you gasp, “More.”

He obliges, pushing in deeper, rocking the pseudo-cock into you until your toes curl, a loud roaring in your head that threatens a supernova.

You squeeze his hand tightly when you come, gasping, shuddering violently, your cunt clamping down around the large size, making you feel fuller than ever, your mind drunk on the pleasure you were experiencing, unsure of where your body began and his ended.

You drop back against the bed, apparently having arched your body so forcefully that your back had raised a little off the bed.

“Oh my fucking god.” You draw out, body still convulsing occasionally, shards of pleasure still cutting through you in waves. You blink, hypersensitive, feeling your skin flush with an abundance of heat.

His lips are on your shoulder, peppering sweetly over your chest, soft, ticklish even in its gentleness.

He was right, orgasms make you a little tighter, you only realise this when he tries to tug the dilator out, and encounters resistance.

He doesn’t try to force it, twisting the object gently, continuing to kiss your shoulders.

“Deep breaths, mistress, relax.” His free hand smooths over your face, delving into your hair, squeezing at your shoulders.

His gentle touches work, and before you know it, he can tug the silicone out without hurting you.

“Last one, sweetheart.” He murmurs, reaching for the final size.

You try not to be scared, to remember that Billy was attentive, and gentle, and would rather die than have you hurt in any way.

You barely feel it, sliding into you, only a touch wider than the last and the pleasure from your last orgasm numbs the discomfort of this purple dilator as it slides into you.

You take it easily, breathing deep and even, only hitching when his tail flicks gently on your clit.

“Good, mistress, so perfect for me.” He praises guiding it in till it fits snugly inside of you.

Is this what he would feel like? Pressed deep, so deep you could feel it in your throat?

You blink up at him, wishing it were him inside of you, and not this unfeeling thing.

You feel a tug at the connection between you, telling you that he felt the exact same way.

“That demon I saw in your dreams last night, that was the real you.” You say, no question in your tone, already suspecting the answer.

You watch his throat bob, nodding.

“Will you show me?” You ask, clenching gently around the dilator.

He exhales, nodding again, backing away from you, stepping off the bed to show you his full form.

The first thing you see is his nails sharpen, then his horns growing larger, eyes going fully black, and then the beautiful dark veins spreading over his body. The darkness pools at the tips of his fingers, fading into his natural skin as it moves up his wrist. 

He looks bigger somehow, more menacing, an aura of darkness unleashes itself around him and it only arouses you more.

You glance down at the boxers he’s still wearing, watching the dark veins torment you as they dip beneath the waistband.

You sit up, gasping when the dilator feels bigger in this position, you take your time, crawling on all fours till you’re sitting on the bed just in front of him.

Your demon is beautiful, ethereal, and without a doubt, pure evil.

You smile up at him, reaching for either side of his boxers, excitement deepening when he doesn’t stop you.

The veins do in fact extend lightly over his large cock, and you moan when you observe that the tip is untouched, remaining pink, beads of precum pooling on his slit.

You look up at him, his chest heaving, fingers curled into fists, watching as you extend your tongue to softly lick at the head of his cock.

You moan at his taste, eagerly wrapping your lips around the head of him, sucking eagerly.

Big, deliciously big that you have to raise a hand to work at the base of him while you suck slowly on his tip. Every now and then, you look up at him to remind yourself that he looks like that.

So unbelievably gorgeous, you take him as deep into your mouth as you can, wanting to feel him fill your mouth, take up space in your throat, own you.

You moan, reaching down between your legs with your other hand, you gently slide the dilator in an out of you, using it to fuck yourself while you suck him off.

His hand grips the back of your head, nails scraping gently on your scalp.

“Filthy little mistress, likes being full on both ends.”

You whine at his words, flicking your eyes up to meet his dark ones.

He’s so divine, you want to tell him but you can’t spare the air it would take.

Instead you nod, forcing him deeper into your mouth.

He moans, his pleasure settling at the base of your spine, hand guiding your head up and down on his cock, panting as he looks down at you.

You want him to come in your mouth, to make you cum drunk and able to take him better. You rock your hips harder on the dilator inside you, feeling so full that you’re not sure how you’re ever going to survive without him inside of you.

You hasten the movement of your hands, abandoning your own pleasure to ensure he experiences his.

“Mistress,” He gasps, tilting his head back, you stroke him faster eagerly.

You’re greedy for his cum, he groans loudly as he spills himself into your mouth. You lose control of the quantity, some of it dripping down your chin and falling onto your breasts as you try your best to swallow.

You draw back with a gasp, and a final bit of his cum hits your cheek. You wipe your lips, sucking your fingers into your mouth, to try cleaning yourself up.

There’s too much of his spend on your skin though, and you don’t get the chance to try fully before his hand is wrapped around your throat.

You’re pressed to the bed suddenly, his body over yours, dark eyes looking at you as you feel your head go hazy.

You moan, writhing under his grip so that he’s forced to squeeze tighter, loving the attention as you get high on his cum.

Ropes wrap around your wrists, over your knees, spreading them wide the way he’s done before.

You moan when you feel him wipe at your chin and cheek, cleaning the remnants of his cum from your skin.

“My demon.” You whisper, arching your back, not trying to break free, but to beg him to fuck you any way he wanted.

The only answer you receive, is the feeling of him gripping the ends of the dilator, tugging it out slowly before pressing it back in.

“You look like a work of art, mistress.” He murmurs lowly, “Hands and legs bound, the circle of candles, the way they light up your pretty skin-” He uses a single digit to tease your stiff nipple, making you gasp, skin oversensitive, “-You’d fuel an artist’s best daydream.”

You say his name on a half sob.

“I can’t believe I get to have you like this” He continues, his tail gliding over your thighs and to your cunt, “You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

His tail circles your clit, as he slowly pumps the silicone into you, you thrash a little, the sensations are so strong, almost overpowering.

You stutter out a moan, fingers curling, unable to do anything except feel.

“That's it, mistress, show me how you'd take me.”

You gasp, eyes wide, arching your hips towards his hand in hopes that he gives you more. He obliges easily, speeding up his rhythm, your head so full of bliss that you can barely think about anything else.

He slides his free hand up from your thigh, to press over the space of your womb, he presses down a little, and you swear the sensations grow even more intense.

“I can't wait to finally fuck you, mistress. I hope you know, I'll be insatiable after. I'll probably need you so much more.”

You nod your head, easily agreeing, your body locking into place once more as your orgasm approaches.

You gasp, feeling him deepen his thrusts just a little bit more until it almost aches with how good it feels, deep, measured, something you never even knew you were craving.

You come hard, harder than you ever have before, crying out loudly as pleasure hits you at full force, your skin tingles, your cunt spasms around the silicone, holding it in place, euphoria spreading through your nerve endings, sparking heat that you can barely keep track of.

Your invisible bindings fall away as you go boneless, shuddering still as waves of bliss continue to move through you.

He falls into the space beside you, and it's through heaving breaths that you realise he's shaking too.

“Billy?” You say carefully, reaching to caress whatever part of him you could, the backs of your fingers tracing his shoulders.

He turns his head to look at you.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, “I think I just felt every second of that orgasm.” He crawls his way higher, till he's face to face with you, studying you like words on a page, “Does it always feel like that?”

You chuckle, throat dry and a little achey from overuse.

“That, was probably the hardest I've ever come.” You answer.

He hums, eyelashes fluttering as he dips his head to kiss along your jaw. You tilt your head to give him space, smiling easily at his gentle and persistent attentions.

“If I hadn't come earlier, that would have no doubt set me off untouched.”

You groan, liking the sound of that.

The dilator is still inside of you, and squirm a little in discomfort.

He gets the message, reaching down, with a soft voice guiding you to relax, you feel him tug it out of you.

You let out a soft breath as it slides out, your body going from uncomfortably full, to very empty in the span of a few seconds.

“I'll be honest, I thought when we started, that you would fuck me at the end of this, but honestly, I don't think I could handle it.” You say, laughing as you finish your sentence, emphasising your own point by closing your legs, feeling how blissfully sore you are at this very moment.

He laughs along with you, a low chuckle of amusement.

“You definitely wouldn't, no offence, you're going to be really sore tomorrow, and I'm not going to help you with it.”

You blink.

“Why not?”

You feel his deviousness wrap around you. The look in his human eyes is sinister.

“I want you to ache, mistress, I want you to remember what I did, what you begged me to do, every time you move I want you to feel it, I want you to wonder how much worse it will be when it's my real cock, and not some poor substitute.”

Now why on earth did that arouse you so much?

He grins when he feels your reaction, eyes flashing red for just a moment, and you wonder if this was the corruption promised.

His hands drift over your thighs, up your stomach, cupping your breast softly on its way up to grip your throat.

You feel your body go pliant underneath him, you feel like his, a plaything for his desires.

“Ready for your bath, mistress?” He asks with a tilt of his head, and it takes you a moment to think about his words before nodding.

He scoops you into his arms, a pleased expression on his face when you wrap your arms around him easily.

Who knew that when you met him all those months ago that this is where you would end up? That one traumatic night would lead to something so… perfect.

He opens a heavy wooden door, and descends down a stone staircase, it opens up into a hallway, made of the same stone. You lose focus of where you're going in favour of snuggling into him, nose buried in his chest that you almost ignore the first sparkle you see.

You raise your head, mouth dropping open in surprise when he walks past a little table piled high with shiny gems.

“Uhhhh, Billy?” 

“Hmmm?”

You try to say more when he passes a jewel encrusted, solid gold candelabra.

You turn your head quickly to watch where you're going, finding that the hallway is lined with dozens of these shiny, jewel encrusted items of different shapes.

“What?” You ask, with absolutely zero context.

He chuckles.

“Asmodeus, the demon before me, he was something of a collector, things that were lost to time, he'd find and keep them. When I inherited his title, I also received sole access to his treasures. I'd started to move it here, until I realised that he had way too much stuff, which is why you might find these things piled anywhere I could find a space.”

You watch, amazed as he passed another little table piled high with gold coins, except that a few of the piles have toppled, spilling gold over the stone floor.

“The bathroom is gonna blow your mind.” He says without elaboration, and you feel a touch of excitement go over you.

It does, you almost think you're dreaming.

There are several lamps scattered around the room, but the chandelier hanging from the roof acts the way a suncatcher does, sending fractals of light scattering, catching on the many shiny objects in the room.

There are so many shiny things that your brain can hardly comprehend, a glittering ship, that looks like it's been made out of the finest diamonds, a large floor to ceiling mirror made out of what you think might be real rose gold and the bath- the bath is built into the floor of the room, covered, absolutely full, of shiny gold coins, crystal waters still above it.

“You're Scrooge McDuck.” You whisper in shock.

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Cartoon duck,” you mumble absentmindedly as he approaches the bath, “filthy rich, bathes in his money.”

He huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I have no defence for that, I'm a duck I guess.”

The water is nice and warm, soothing your body from the minute he steps in.

He settles you against his body, your back to his front in the sparkling water.

A swipe of his influence, and you watch a little solid gold fountain start up, spilling water into the bath, the chandelier above head begins turning, the light spinning around the room.

It's so relaxing, you settle against him, the sound of dribbling water lulling your sated body.

“I can't believe you're this rich.” You murmur sleepily.

“We are,” he corrects, raising your hand to remind you of the tattoo on your inner wrist, “This gives you access to my things.”

You hum, deep in thought about that, the way he makes it sound like you were one.

He scoops up some gold coins from below, dropping them over your thighs. You feel the heavy weight of them, the way they slide off of your skin back to the bottom.

You feel his contentment, it melds with yours. You turn your head to kiss at his cheek and chest, the warm water soothing your little aches the way he said he wasn't going to.

It makes you smile, settling against him, heart full of something, so deep that you're not really sure which one of you is really feeling it.

.

“What about this one?” You ask, turning slowly to show him with the weight on your head.

He studies you, the lavish crown sitting on your head, a sheer robe wrapped around you that he knows will reveal your body to him in the right lighting.

“A queen I'd gladly kneel for.” He answers, eyeing you hungrily.

He watches you fight a smile, turning away to put the crown back, he feels your delight at his words.

You're examining a very long string of pearls when he decides to make his way to you. Billy breathes in your soft scent as he wraps his arms around you.

“These are really long, I wonder how they were worn.”

He hums, pressing his nose to your neck.

“I think these were made to wrap around the body.”

“Really?” You say in interest, winding them around your arm to examine the look of them.

“Let me.” He says, extending his hand, his cock stiffening in excitement of the way you'd look.

You pass them over to him curiously, turning to face him. He takes the opportunity to push the robe from your shoulders.

You gasp, and he tries not to let it distract him from his purpose, carefully starting at your neck, winding the strings of pearls over your body, he has to bite his tongue hard with the way they decorate your perfect breasts, resisting the urge to take you into his mouth before he's done.

Every curve on your body is delicious, and he crisscrosses the pearls several times over your stomach, lowering his body to his knees when he has to decorate your hips. 

He's a little sinister, guiding the pearls between your thighs, ensuring that they're pressed securely to your clit before routing them between the curves of your ass, tugging a little tightly, watching you stiffen as you experience pleasure. 

He pretends that it's normal, winding them around your body a few more times before securing it around your waist.

He looks up at you, his work of art, his mistress, he feels your arousal, worsening the longer the pearls rub against you.

He stands, taking your hands in his, tugs you forward, knowing that motion increases the sensations on your body.

He brings you to a mirror, turning to show you how beautiful you look.

Nothing stands a chance against you, he thinks to himself, admiring his work, watching you lift a hand to touch the pearls in wonder.

“Only thing that might make you prettier, is my cum soaking into your skin.”

He feels the exact moment you decide he's right.

“Only one way to find out.” You respond, turning to sink to your knees in front of him.

He groans, tilts his head back when your lips seal around the head of his cock.

Heaven wasn't as far away as it had seemed.

.

.

.

[seventiesweetheart]

hiii~ how do you feel about writing something about ghostface x reader (either billy or danny) inspired by "sweet serial killer" or "queen of disaster" or thag line from cinnamon girl "if he's a serial killer then what's the worst that can happen to a girl who is already hurt?" IDK I JUST WANT LANA DEL REY FT GHOSTFACE 😭

𓆩♱𓆪 sweet serial killer.

ghostface! billy loomis x fem! reader

INSPO. happiness is a butterfly by lana del rey | “if he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst that can happen to a girl who’s already hurt?”

WARNING. mentions of gore and violence. yandere billy. ghostface breaking into her house. manipulative behavior. fluff! no smut in this one :>

A/N. so sorry anon, this came in so late >< but i hope you like it !!

for a whole week, y/n has done nothing but cry and mourn the loss of her best friend, casey becker. she’s avoided coming to school cause the poor girl couldn’t stand not being able to see her in the hallways. no, she couldn’t bear it, even after her friends have insisted on her being there.

billy and stu were so determined to keep her company, always showing up with new movie rentals and her favorite comfort foods. they hated seeing the poor girl so broken, even if one of them do believe casey deserve what she got for constantly stealing y/n's attention away from him.

but no matter what billy and stu did, it was never enough to fill the void. the horrific image of her best friend's intestines strung around the tree outside her house haunted y/n. who would honestly do such a sick and cruel thing?

y/n sobbed uncontrollably at the thought, her body trembling as she wrapped herself tighter in her (fav color) fleece blanket. she curled up on the couch, her knees drawn to her chest, feeling small and utterly alone. the dim glow of the tv cast flickering shadows on the walls, reflecting off the tear tracks on her cheeks, her eyes swollen and her nose red and runny.

it was already 1:00 a.m. on a saturday, and she remained wide awake in the dimly lit living room, staring blankly at the romcom billy had picked out for her. the lighthearted scenes on the screen felt like a mockery of her current state. but at least it kept her company.

her parents were out of town, too busy sailing away in some vacation beach while their daughter was drowning herself in her own misery. she would never admit it to her friends but it does get lonely isolating herself in her house. and it’s even more frightening to think that whoever killed her best friend still hasnt been caught. besides, who knows? she might be next—

suddenly, a loud ring pierced the quiet, making y/n jump slightly from her position.

who the hell would be calling at such an ungodly hour? the muffled noise from the tv only added to the eerie silence that she was now acutely aware of as the phone continued to ring incessantly.

with a slight pout, she realized the phone wasn’t going to answer itself. and so she mustered all her courage and stood from the couch. it was most likely just her parents checking in; they must be worried sick after hearing the news about the masked killer.

her soft knee-high socks touched the cold hardwood floor as she carefully padded toward the sound. realizing it was coming from the kitchen, she drew closer, the ringing growing louder with each step.

the kitchen was quieter and darker, the only light coming from the moon casting a glow through the window. with trembling hands, she reached out and picked up the phone situated on top of the counter, her pulse quickening at the unknown caller's silence on the other end.

"…hello?" her soft, timid voice asked as she waited for a response.

“hello, y/n.” the voice was low and gravelly, y/n fought hard not to end the call right then and there.

“w-who is this?”

“i’ll answer your question only if you answer mine first.”

y/n face twisted with confusion but she didn’t think too much about it. this is probably just a silly prank call, nothing serious.

“okay… what’s your question?”

the stranger paused a few seconds before finally asking, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“i-i’m not really a fan of scary movies.” was the only reply y/n could come with cause it’s true. she despised them. plus, if anything, the recent events had only intensified her aversion to them.

“that’s ashame, never even seen a single one?” the voice prodded.

“nuh uh,” the girl shook her head even if she knew that the stranger obviously couldn’t see her right now.

the voice chuckled softly, “cute.”

“i already answered your question, so answer mine.” she doesn’t know where the courage to say that came from but she immediately bit down on her lip in fear of sounding too confrontational.

“that’s right! and here’s your answer, sweetheart,” the call ends abruptly and all she’s left with is the beeping noise of the telephone.

furrowing her brows, she slowly puts the device back down onto the charging station, unsure of what to make of the conversation. but she decides to push it out of her mind as she backs slowly from the where the phone was.

but suddenly, a hand clamped tightly over her mouth, cutting off her gasp. her eyes widened in shock as she felt a sharp metal press threateningly against her throat.

“make a sound and i’ll gut you up just like your poor best friend.” the voice behind whispered menacingly.

y/n couldn’t stop the flood of tears from pouring as she felt the arm around her and the solid chest behind her guide her out of the kitchen. a warm breath brushed against the back of her ear and down the side of her exposed neck as she weakly tried to clutch onto the hand that was still holding the knife.

of course, billy wasn’t actually going to cut her up. he wouldn’t even place a single scar on the poor girl’s skin. he just needed to threaten her enough to make sure she complied with whatever he wanted. and right now what he wanted was to guide her back to where she was and keep her wrapped possessively in his arms.

“i’m going to let go of your mouth now, sweetheart. but you better not scream, understood?” he warned carefully.

he unwrapped his hand from her mouth, revealing her flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. billy couldn’t help but pause to admire her vulnerable appearance as she weakly leaned against his chest, her angelic eyes brimming with tears and wetting her fluttery lashes.

her pouty, petal-soft lips looked so dangerously tempting. in that moment, billy felt a primal urge to claim them, to stain them with his blood soaked violence, a violence so diametrically opposed to her sweet innocence.

but he couldn’t bring himself to taint her with his darkness—not when she looked so fragile and dainty in his arms.

© 2024 seventiesweetheart | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.