#frothing at the mouth over this teaser

[erros429]

OHHHH MY SHAYLAAAAAAAS

[baycitystygian]

not me refreshing everything to see if the new sparks single dropped yet. like come onnnnnnn it's after midnight so it's tomorrow already. give me the good shitttttttttttt

[crehador]

doppo: black or white rei, jyuto: white and black 😎

why have they done this to him

[puffinghuffle]

Blitz and the Honse origin theory that no one asked for or wanted!

This might just be me obsessing over small detail in the new season teaser while frothing at the mouth waiting for the full moon episode to drop but I have completely not plot related thoughts on Blitz’s honse bag.

The spelling is classic Blitz level of misspelling but also looks produced in a “not drawn on” sort of way so my question is has Blitz in the stereotypical queer fashion got very into crafting personalized items because stores don’t sell merch in his niche interests and Blitz is out here on weekends at home from assassin work just circuting poorly spelled horse merch for personal use and gifts for friends???? I just love imagining the wild things that Blitz would definitely give to the office fam and Blitz then asking Moxxie why he doesn’t wear the “I get pegged” hoodie Blitz circuted for him?

[peachdues]

The Great War — Teaser

Giyuu x F!Shrine Maiden (Bundle of Joy — Giyuu’s version)

A/N: one more teaser, as a treat. I know y’all are frothing at the mouth for this one.

Below are several snippets of the ✨romance✨ that developed between Giyuu and the Reader leading up to their first night, as teased here. The last snippet is immediately following the events of the original teaser — in which Giyuu inadvertently strangles his newly-pregnant fiancé (only he doesn’t know she’s pregnant).

CW: post-strangulation description of injuries • panic • otherwise, Giyuu is one big Mr. Darcy.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

“I think you enjoy diverting my attention,” Giyuu said simply, though Y/N could see the rising annoyance in his eyes.

She felt his gaze bear into her as she flipped her loose hair behind her shoulder. “It’s not possible to distract someone unless they find the diversion in question captivating, Tomioka-sama.”

The Water Pillar almost looked amused. “And you are certainly that, Y/N.”

Y/N ducked her head to avoid that piercing gaze, so that the ravenette would not see the faint rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. “I did not think you had the constitution for teasing, Lord Hashira.”

Giyuu took a step towards her, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do not jest.” He hesitated for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinized her. “Nor do I lie.”

—————————————————————————

“This is -“ Y/N said breathlessly, “A pomegranate!”

Giyuu nodded, arm still outstretched towards her as he waited to drop the ruby fruit into her hand.

The Miko shook her head. “No, Tomioka-sama, I cannot accept something so expensive-“

“I insist.” The Water Pillar withdrew a small knife and split the fruit in half, staining his hands crimson with the juice that spilled over its soft flesh.

Hesitantly, the young Miko accepted the half he offered her, and thumbed some of the fat, glistening jewels loose. The moment she brought them to her lips, Y/N sighed, contentedly, and for some reason, Giyuu found his cheeks heating as he watched her savor the sweet fruit.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes after swallowing her first mouthful, but was startled to see the Hashira staring at her, unwaveringly, and she realized he’d moved closer towards her than he had been only seconds earlier.

Giyuu’s azure eyes were fixed hard on her lips, as he leaned in close to her, Y/N flushing as he drew nearer.

Is he going to kiss me? Her traitorous heart thundered at the idea, and it caused her no short amount of grief to know she was uncertain whether she wanted him to do so.

As Y/N’s emotions warred with her logic, the Water Pillar’s gentle fingers cupped under her chin, and his thumb brushed delicately across her lower lip.

“Pomegranate juice,” he said, but Y/N could still feel the warmth of his breath still as his hand lingered under her chin. His eyes were wide as though he, too, could not believe what he’d just done.

————————————————————-

Y/N gingerly unfolded the furoshiki cloth and unveiled a long, but fragile metal and wood reed.

It was a hairpin, she realized with a soft gasp. Y/N could scarcely bring her fingers to run over the exquisitely crafted ridges of the leaves that adorned the top portion of the pin, afraid that even the slightest pressure from her touch would cause the Water Pillar’s precious gift to her to crumble.

I spend the year longing for autumn, she’d told him.

She hadn’t thought he’d been particularly interested in listening to her talk; but as Y/N cradled the delicate ornament between her palms, she felt a blush begin to creep across her cheeks.

As her fingers traced across the delicate ridges of a cluster of maple leaves, lacquered in a thick coat of scarlet paint — a perfect match to the hue of her traditional hakama pants — Y/N realized that perhaps Tomioka had been paying more attention to her than she’d realized.

For the Water Pillar had given her a piece of autumn to hold onto year-round.

“Tomioka-sama, you do not-“

“Giyuu.” The ravenette interrupted her. “Please, call me by my name; it’s Giyuu.”

Y/N’s mouth closed, but she smiled softly, considering. “Alright. Giyuu — please, you do not need to feel obligated to bring gifts for us — it was only salmon.”

But Giyuu shook his head. “I don’t bring gifts for everyone; just you.”

Y/N turned scarlet.

“Please, just-“ Giyuu frowned, and Y/N could have sworn she saw the faintest glow of pink coloring the Hashira’s cheeks. “Just take it.”

—————————————————————————

(Right before the events of the NSFW teaser 👀)

“Tomioka-San!” the young Sun-Breather called, waving to Giyuu as the latter departed from his estate. “Would you like to eat together?”

The Water Pillar did not stop his descent from the stairs leading to his manor, but he did acknowledge the boy who had been determined to befriend him. “I cannot; there is something I must do tonight.��

Tanjiro Kamado’s smile faltered slightly. “I see,” the boy then straightened and bowed, deeply. “Please, allow me to accompany you!”

Giyuu’s eyes widened slightly, and his knuckles briefly tightened around the hilt of his sword, as the young Miko’s face flashed before his eyes. “Er — no. This is something I must do on my own.” And, because the boy looked so crestfallen at his rejection, the Water Pillar added, “I shall return well before you awaken for training, Kamado.”

Without another word, Giyuu brushed last the young, eager slayer and made his way to the familiar forest path that led him to a certain shrine, where a certain Miko was undoubtedly cursing at the lazy drift of snowflakes from the sky.

As he watched the retreating back of the Water Pillar, Tanjiro noted the potent scent of sadness and longing that shrouded the man.

Tanjiro’s heard clenched, however, at the scent which lay beneath the Water Hashira’s sorrow, concealed like the bud of a flower beneath its petals.

It had been the unmistakable scent of love — deep, and reverent, and yet saddened, which clung to the ravenette like a fine perfume.

—————————————————————————

(Post-strangulation episode; Y/N is pregnant).

Y/N awoke and her body was immediately seized with panic.

Her head pounded, and the harsh, sterile light above her hurt her eyes. Nothing, however, could compare to the crushing fire in her throat, as though her neck had been snapped. Y/N breathed hard and fast through her nose, lashes of dizzying pain coursing through her as her hands flew to her neck, only to meet something cold and smooth rather than her own skin. Y/N’s fingers dug into the wood, clawing at it desperately in her alarm.

“Y/N, Y/N, shhh,” a calming voice soothed as a pair of cool, gentle hands came to meet her own, stilling them against whatever was enclosed around her neck. “Don’t touch that, it’s to keep your neck stable.”

Y/N’s eyes darted from side to side, unable to see anything but directly above her, due to whatever contraption she’d felt locked around her neck, restricting her movement.

A pair of ethereal violet eyes peered over her. Y/N had to blink a few times, adjusting to the harsh light above her, as Kanao Tsuyuri’s face swam into focus.

“You are okay, Y/N. You’re at the Butterfly Mansion. You’ve been out for a few hours, but you are safe.”

Y/N’s breath was still heavy, though she relaxed the grip she had against the thing around her neck. She opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but she was only able to make a raspy, strangled sound, so foreign to her ears.

“Don’t try and speak, Y/N. Your vocal cords sustained a great deal of damage.” Kanao gently raised her fingers to Y/N’s eyelids and peeled them back slightly, checking the status of the burst blood vessels in the Miko’s eyes.

Kanao pulled her hands away from Y/N’s face, her own expression neutral and clinical. “Are you able to blink on command?”

With far more effort than Y/N could have imagined, she managed to close her eyelids and reopen them.

Kanao nodded. “Good. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to blink your responses. One blink for yes, two for no, okay?”

Y/N blinked once.

Kanao gave her a small, encouraging smile. “Good. Do you know where you are?”

Y/N blinked again.

Kanao nodded. “And do you know who I am?”

Another blink and Kanao visibly relaxed. “Thank goodness. Do you know — do you remember — what happened to you?”

Y/N hesitated, her body tensing at the memory of Giyuu, moving so silently behind her, even in his sleep, as he brought her to the ground and wrapped his hand around her, unseeing and unfeeling as he nearly choked the life out of her.

Y/N slowly blinked once, tears stinging her eyes as her vision clouded.

“Oh Y/N, don’t cry,” Kanao soothed, taking Y/N’s limp hand in her own as the other raised to smooth her hair back. “Please, you can’t cry. You can’t strain your throat any more than it already is.”

Y/N closed her eyes to keep her tears sealed within, as her chest heaved with a strange, strangled sound that bubbled in her, unable to be released as Y/N worked to keep her mouth closed. The pain, however, only magnified.

Y/N’s eyes flew open and she gripped the doctor’s hands tightly in her own. Giyuu, she kept trying to mouth, though wincing at the twinge in her neck, Giyuu.

“Are you asking about Tomioka?” Kanao asked kindly, and Y/N blinked once in assent.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

[klausinamarink]

not now kitten daddy is frothing in the mouth over the new cryptic sleep token teaser

[primaviva]

HELLO??? the starvation for gwen fics was real wtf

ty guys for the attention and for liking my writing while i try to fill up the gwen x reader tags to feed some struggling gwen groupies 🫶🫶

ANYWAYS !! here’s a teaser for my first oneshot to hold some of y’all over…ik you frothing at the mouth for some content

[voltstone]

LYCOS | SCALDING | 3 (Wenclair A/B/O)

SCALDING | moon | Pt.3

“I am why you never lay a hand on Enid Sinclair.”

ajax is to be taken care of. however, nevermore's pack has wednesday's attention. she craves their bloodshed. wednesday may have to reach to depravity once more, where a siren's word will be a savior.

[105,282] (i; [44,340] 5/30/2024) (ii; [26,229] 2/20/2025) (iii; [34,713] 2/28/2025)

no it did not take me a little less than a year to do this. and no i didn't split it up into three because i would've run out of characters. and nO it is nOT 100k words.

anyway.

hope you enjoy!

:)

AO3 1.3 First Chapter: AO3 | First Post

(read more for chapter teaser.)

Enid doesn’t wake. She stirs, on occasion. There’s an itch down her nose, then a squirming of a brow, before she twists to find … you. As though your rot, sweet decay, is better than the infirmary’s cold. The ceramic tiles are basked in it. The grout as well. Every counter, drawer, shelf — the woods have fermented within pills and alcohol since Nevermore opened its doors.

And you have kept to her side. You’ve not left.

Your mouth is warm from the murmurings you slipped to her when the clinic was empty, and it was just you, and it was Enid. A poem, dredged from the depths of your decrepit soul. It swelled the room. Blue began to froth around her, those concord grapes. Didn’t understand. Still don’t.

That perfume on her is a soothing thing. And she’s hidden it away from you, until these moments.

It lingered when the nurses bustled in and shoved you aside. Lingers now when you’ve found your perch on a chair, hovered over Enid’s head and pillow. 

The watch in your vest pocket weighs heavier than it should. It reduced you to a fidget — absentminded — when the nurses did their work, until it pricked you, and left you now with a thumb stinging the fine line you cut off its glass. Blood pounds a dull rhythm in the wound. It’s the same swelled within your nose. It’s belligerent in every laceration you hadn’t yet realized you acquired.

Hollow, however, is your cruelest pain. A tight manglement, thick of sloughed oil. Pores bubble upon its surface. Air is in heavy smolder. Your velveted heart stirs in ways it shouldn’t. In ways … it hasn’t for far too long.

(In ways that you have longed for silently, fervently.)

The nurses step aside. Their voices are a blear to you. The words are between them, and they are careened to their desks, away from the shell of your ear. So you capture Enid’s hand. Her skin is smoother than the parchment your typewriter bludgeons in ink. And as your eyes trace her, you find a quirk of a thing: where her watch laid its loyalty, there is a pastel shadow banded around her wrist. Her skin is fair. And yet, it rejoices sun; her complexion matures beyond pastel shadow.

You keep the fact to yourself. You intend it to be a better stashed secret than the very watch in your pocket.

And you steal more. Her hand is crafted in lithe angles. Narrow, but should her fist close now, Enid would net yours whole. Leave little room for you to slip away.

…she … should be awake for you. Yet she is not.

Hollow churns. You smooth over drawls of knuckle. And then, you whisper the ends to your poem. You whisper in low tones, for Enid to hear, and Enid alone.

“Injertaré estas cicatrices tuyas en la memoria. Conoceré estas suturas mientras sanan… Y…”

A nurse’s shadow crosses lamplight. Your eyes dart as she strips her gloves and soothes the residual powder across her palm. There’s a hint of chlorine — another residual, biting to your nose.

“Y estas se desvanecerán. Serán los … caminos que suavizaré en tu piel, más profundos que el perfume.”

Enid is the harmony to your eyes. The colors painted within blonde canvas sing to you again. Has you think coral ocean — as if your soul castaway, adrift at her bedside, could ever have the wingspan to cradle her blue horizon.

You can’t. It’s the worst floundering visual for ego.

Because you are silent as you drown in what you can do. There is nothing. You grasp after a miserable hope that these sutures are enough, and that every stirring of your mind will scorn the way you intend.

There is a patchwork of bandages left behind. On her arms, shoulders. Most of those wounds are light. Mere scuffs or grazes — they are not a concern. Her face is cleared of blood now, and like her arms, her hands, much of what was left behind looked worse than what it is. Her lips, however… And her nose… They are a sore reminder of what you feared.

Your eyes are burning for her legs best of all. Because you did not miss the way her socks are flecked by fallen blood, nor were you blind to the gauze both nurses applied. How the white bloomed a vibrant shade. A wine. It bloomed the shade of her wine.

It scalds a violence. It starts and ends with that Omega.

“Now, for your nose, Miss Wednesday—”

You don’t bother your eyes. A hand waves her off.

The older nurse. Reeks like a stale, cobwebbed corner. Not stale Vampyrically, however. No. Lycan. She’s a wolf as well, and unless born intuition has left you, Omega. 

Your tongue rolls the iron in your mouth. Lobs together fresh and old — flakes of what you damned yourself last night to the beaded sinews from a fight won.

“Miss Wednesday. It doesn’t look broken, but it still requires my attention.”

You’re glaring at her from down your shoulder. A veteran to the school — her jade eyes are cutting, and brunette hair is fraught by white. You don’t break away. The same hand nudges the offered gauze already doused in alcohol. In peripheral, the gauze hangs in the air as though she is, despicably, truthfully, astounded. Be it the physical contact, or every grain of your existence, you’ve struck another cord of hers.

Her patience seems to perpetually be strained with you. It may be your tact, or it’s the chiding she does. Or both, because she knows the chiding will never find its place here, with you. Her brow tweaks and a lip squirms as though you pried a nail beneath her skin.

“What about Enid?”

AO3 1.3 First Chapter: AO3 | First Post

[13tinysocks]

Hello I calculated the total words of all your published works (oneshots and quotev teasers included) and it totals to…

*drumroll*

1,346,200 words!

and I will read all of it over and over again. You and abby’s writing makes me froth at the mouth in the best way. Have a lovely weekend!

If I wasn't so tired at the end of syg I would've kept writing just so it was longer than les miserables. Dunno if I'll ever write anything longer than syg or les mis but in total I've written a lot more fanfic than a lot of authors discographies and that's somethin

Yippie

[labellefleur-sauvage]

Greetings, goodwill, all things merry and bright!

I figured I'd stop by and let you know that I plan to have (at least the first chapter of) your gift posted on December 21st! I'll be popping by over the next week or so to drop little teasers, hints, etc.

For your first hint, a moodboard https://imgur.com/a/j4WcLFr

(extra hint, yes this is an AU of something)

~❄️

A MOODBOARD????? FOR ME????

I am so hyped Santa. I hope it’s ok, but I included the moodboard you made here for everyone to admire:

A dragon?? A firebird?? An old book, possibly some ruins, and people with swords? Literally frothing at the mouth with excitement right now. Honestly one of the best moodboards I’ve ever seen.

I am so excited to finally meet you and read your amazing fic, and whatever teasers you’re willing to share (but no pressure, if you decide not to!)!

Can’t wait to hear from you again Santa!

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Teaser for C.9 of Bloodhound!

If you want to go in completely blind for the C.9 and C.10 double-whammy (I'm sorry, I'm too eager to hack this up and post it so you won't have voting for between the chaps) , please ignore this and just admire the gif of Graves.

If you're frothing at the mouth at the mere sight anything to do with Bloodhound, please, be my guest and read on!

This is an excerpt of Graves' side and does include Valeria. I'd greatly appreciate some feedback if you have any, but don't worry if you don't and just want to have a cheeky read <3.

Hope you enjoy, guys!

Her resolve was breaking, crumbling away like sand through her fingers. She was faltering, stumbling over a root as she dragged her body to continue on. Valeria looked behind to see she had lost sight of the base. Slowly, she returned her gaze to what was in front of her: the vague path back to their camp.

She had cast that awful mask aside, leaving it to be found at the edge of the base, where the back of that dilapidated building met the woods, hoping you’d find it and that it’d light a fire under your arse.

A life taken was, in her eyes, better than a life doomed. At least, with murder, there came some form of closure. Some form of a definitive… end.

How long until it would set in? Until he’d unravel and consume them all?

Consume you?

She prayed that the anger she had seen in your face, as she had grabbed a fistful of your hair, bringing your bloodied visage to look upon hers, meant you had it in you to fix this. There was a good chance you’d reject Ghost and flee the moment you discovered his newfound nature. And… you’d be right in doing that- you know, to kill him before he’d get into their hands. Valeria hoped you’d stab him with a silver stake in his sleep or do her the kindness of making him scream. Oooh. Something inside her giggled with sadistic joy at the though of an Arcadian Son screaming in agony at the hands of a lamia. What a triumph that would be! An arrogant man with strength he didn’t deserve nor need, squirming about at the feet of a trafficked child. Valeria hungered for that, and she had found a substitute in reigning supreme over the Las Almas Cartel but, now that she thought about it, it wasn’t the same. It was play. It was her living in a fantasy, rehearsing all the things she wanted to say and do to her overseer. There were many people that sat at the back of her mind, giving voice to her innermost doubts and fears, whom she wanted to see burn by her hands, and he was one of them. That heartless fucker who managed to worm his way into her very being, one who she’d still want to see in awe of her, to feel a swell of pride as she’d slit his throat.

Every Arcadian Son was the same. Every single one. They all did nothing but hurt, exploit, and terrorise. Throwing around their gifts without a care in the world and making sure everyone was constantly feeling their anguish, their pain.

But what about mine?! What about my pain?!

She trudged on, doing her best to halt the tears pooling in her eyes. In an ill attempt to self-soothe, Valeria found her arms slowly snaking around her, her body pulling her into an embrace. It stung as the cartel queen felt a tear trickle from her eye, rolling down her nose, clinging to the end. Then another, and another, and another once more. Valeria wanted to beat someone half to death. She wanted to feel powerful again, toying with people. She had thought that all these years she had spent on herself, spoiling herself rotten with an underground empire and plenty of men to crush beneath her boot, she had grown. And yet, here she was, a sobbing, snivelling mess, nothing more than a weak, little girl.

Little girl.

“You wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for me.”

Little girl.

“I will always be with you.”

Little girl.

“You will always be scared of men like me. You will always be scared of men.”

The way those words had been uttered to her, all those years ago, with no anger, no emotion behind them, uttered like cold, hard facts. As if she was made to be a certain way. As if she couldn’t escape her nature. As if she was destined to be a caricature, an idea of a person. It was as if everything Valeria had ever done had meant nothing, because all this she had created, had accumulated, had achieved, was merely boiled down to a response to him. Essentially, Valeria realised that she was and would always be nothing more than his lamia.

A quivering breath escaped her, and she became still. Glossy brown eyes stared into the middle distance.

She could have said no, died in defiance.

And yet, she obeyed.

How far was she from camp?

“Valeria?”

Quick as a whip, she snapped back to reality and saw Graves, directly in front of her, standing amidst the shrubbery. His posture indicated he was concerned, slightly leaning forward, one unsure foot put in front of the other, hands hovering in place, shaking with slight trepidation. To him, she didn’t look well. Something about her indicated she wasn’t entirely here and as for her slightly unkempt armour and bloodstained face, Phillip feared she wouldn’t be able to give a decent report.

Still¸ he sighed, no harm in tryin’.

“Valeria?”

“You disgrace the army.”

Every single fucking man she had ever met had, in some form or the other, left a nasty mark on her. Every. Single. Fucking. One.

As she watched Phillip approach her, with a patronising dose of caution, her lip curled.

“I want the missiles. I want the target. And I want Hassan. And you’ve got ten seconds or I’m going to show you the difference between military and me.”

Phillip Graves was feeling sorry for himself now, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be back to his usual self, or perhaps even worse.

“Valeria?”

“What?!” she snapped.

“Have you delivered the package to the target and…”

She could tell he was looking her up and down.

“… Did the renegade do that to you?”

Valeria wasn’t fooled by his softened voice. She took a disgusted step back as he took one towards her.

“What do you think?” Valeria sighed, making to brush past him and collect her things at camp so she could leave this promptly.

He grabbed her, hard, by the wrists. She looked at him like he wasn’t even human, her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, a face depicting someone who was taken aback by not a man, but an animal.

“I need a full report of what happened,” he spoke to her like she was a mere child.

She looked at him, trying to find his eyes behind that blank visor. Although there really wasn’t much of a hight difference between them, she felt as though he was consuming her whole field of vision. Angry tears should have told him enough, but it was evident that he wanted to hear it from her lips.

“Let me go.”

“I need a report.”

“Let me go.”

“You can have your tantrum afterwards, Garza. I need a report. You do realise that this is technically a mission-”

She pulled away, trying to break free of his grip, but to no avail. Over his shoulder, she could see the tantalising shape of camp. Valeria wriggled, demanding to be released. Phillip’s grip only tightened.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

STOP!

Valeria kicked him, screamed at him and, in a moment of brief freedom, before he’d trap her in his embrace once more, she hit his armoured chest. Again, and again and again. All that came out of her were shrieks and curses that sounded as though they had been trapped in her gullet for centuries. She punched and punched his chest, fighting to break free from his grip as he reestablished control. Graves supposed he’d let her have her moment for a few seconds, however, he soon grew tired of her hysteria.

“Valeria… Valeria, will you just… Val-”

He sighed.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GIVE ME THE GODDAMN REPORT!” he roared.

Then, Phillip fell silent, as if surprised by his own voice. He sounded a lot worse than he did when she last spoke to him, merely hours ago.

Valeria glowered at him but did as he said, regaining composure. She was breathless, panting as her whole body rose and fell in time with her stifled gasps for air. Her hands were raised in front of her, held in place by his, almost framing her face.

“The renegade was there. They saw me. And as for the target… Riley’s received the package.”

He eyed the woman, seeing if he could smell any lies on her. However, it seemed she was telling the truth. Phillip let go of her hands and watched them drop to her sides.

“Clean yourself up and go log it on the lexicon-thingy. I received a call from them not too long after you left. They said they want to hear it from you.”

She pushed past him, wiping away the salty water on her lips with the back of her hand.

[aclownsclownery]

Frothing at the mouth over the new Fontaine teaser today

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L |  S E V E N

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   s e v e n |  b l o o d

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!) lets just say this gif is a teaser as to what takes place in this chapter. major blood kink in this chapter. period play?? lmao sorry about it.

There was a shift after that weekend at Billy’s cabin, and you knew he felt it too.

It was never really that casual between you and Billy, that much you knew, but there was something that changed when the two of you got back to Woodsboro. There was something to be said about being able to openly show affection to the person you loved, to hold them and kiss them in public and you’d gotten that treatment in that little lakeside town. You felt like Billy’s actual girlfriend, not his plaything, not the bitch who was backstabbing her own best friend for a fucking boy, you were it.

And while Billy had always said that you were his girl, you hadn’t truly felt like you were until now.

Which was precisely what made tonight so fucking awkward.

Not only had you been coerced into going to the movies with the gang but, unbeknownst to you, Sid had taken it upon herself to fix you up on a blind date with one of Randy’s annoying friends from the video store.

Why had you agreed to this? You were a cold, calculating bitch behind the scenes when it came to fucking your best friend boyfriend and yet saying ‘no thanks, I’m not up for it tonight’ was beyond you? Were you just plain stupid or a closet masochist that thrived on dicey situations?

Either way, you’d never wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic more than you did tonight because not only were you trapped into an uncomfortable blind date with a guy you were fairly sure was frothing at the mouth at the idea of getting you alone in the car after all of this was said and done but you just so happened to be seated directly next to Billy.

You were smack dab in the middle of hell. Between a man you were fucking, a man you were disgustingly in love with and had just spent a weekend away with and a man you’d just met today but couldn’t stop playing handsy on your lap whenever he thought the others weren’t looking.

But Billy was always looking.

You knew that better than anyone. He had this innate sense of finding you in a crowded room. You could feel the weight of his brown eyes on you nearly every second of the day, soaking you up, taking every inch of you in, no matter who was around and tonight, as your ‘date’ smacked on his popcorn all the while feeling your thigh up any chance he could, Billy’s dept stare was tuned in and you knew it.

This had to have been karma. Karma for going away and having a beautiful weekend away with the guy you loved so wholly. The one whose girlfriend was on the other side of him with her pretty head on his stupid shoulder as you suffered in silence at just how fucking laughable this entire situation was.

“See that actress?” Your date, Anthony, whispered into your hear. He smelled like movie theatre butter. You wanted to scream. “Have you seen any of her other stuff?”

You were watching The Crucible and the actress in question was Winona Ryder. Everyone and their left nut had seen Winona Ryder in at least a dozen movies. Frowning, you blinked across at the man and blinked. “Yeah. I’m familiar with her work.”

Focusing ahead on the movie, you tried your damnedest to focus on what was going on but when you felt his slithery palm slide up your thigh, you were this close to pouring your Coke on his lap. Why the fuck had you agreed to this?

Pushing the man’s hand away as subtly as you could to avoid any unwanted attention from your friends, you bit down on the side of your mouth and heaved a quiet sigh. You deserved this. This was your punishment.

“She’s hot.” Your lovely date quipped, squeezing the area of your thigh just above your knee. “In that goth-girl next door kind of way.”

Was he getting off to Winona Ryder all the while coming on to you? Was he picturing Winona as he squeezed your thigh? You truly didn’t want to find out. Once again, you pushed his hand away and, this time, crossed your legs and leaned into the arm rest you were sharing with Billy.

The move was subtle, and you were barely even touching Billy but you needed to create a distance between yourself and Butter Fingers if it was the last thing you did.

With a subtle nudge to your arm, Billy’s eyes flickered towards you as his brows furrowed in question. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing in his cheek, that you could see even in the darkness of the movie theatre, and there was murder in his eyes as he sized up the man just over your shoulder. It was as though you could feel his blood pressure spike just looking at the guy and, as you held your breath, silently pleading with him not to make a scene that would undoubtedly give the two of you up, those brown eyes slowly found yours.

There was anger in his eyes, a palpable rage, but it was the look of pure despondency in his stare that made your own heart break. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be holding hands with Sid and you weren’t meant to be dealing with the idiot to your right.

How it felt up at the cabin, the freedom of loving each other and holding each other and kissing each other in broad daylight was how it was supposed to be. How love was supposed to feel.

Not this.

You were both hiding in plain sight. Putting on a façade to your friends, to each other whilst in public, and it was in that moment, in the middle of a crowded theatre, looking at each other knowing there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it, that you felt that pain so intensely that it was hard to breathe.

Tears burned behind your eyes and you hated yourself for it.

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry over a situation you were willingly putting yourself in. This entire thing could have been avoided had you had a stronger backbone here. You weren’t the victim in this scenario. That was Sid. Sid was the one completely getting fucked over in this situation, not you. You had no damn right to feel this shitty because you were doing it to yourself.

This was just the high of the weekend wearing off and reality settling in. Until circumstances changed, this was your norm.

Swallowing back your nerves, it was all you could do to give Billy a small, barely-there smile before focusing ahead on the movie.

“I’m going to grab us another Coke,” you heard Billy say to Sidney. “Anyone want anything?”

“More popcorn,” Stu waggled his empty bag. “Maybe some Milk Duds, man.”

“Candy.” Tatum mumbled, not taking her eyes off of the screen. “Surprise me, I don’t care what kind.”

Billy nodded and took Stu’s money before he gently nudged you. “You want anything?”

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off but Anthony. “You mind keeping it down, buddy?” He popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “We’re at the movies, not here for snacks.”

It was as though Billy’s wrath was physical as his dark eyes scraped over Anthony’s face. His mouth was pulled into a thin, hard line as Anthony’s pompousness sank in. Why couldn’t it be Randy beside you? Why had that dipshit agreed to take this asshole’s shift in order for you to go on a blind date with him? This entire fiasco could have been avoided had it been Randy.

“Yeah, I could use a drink.” You slinked out of your seat. “I’ll help you carry everything back.”

You didn’t wait for Billy as you marched down the aisle but, as you walked down the stairs and out of the theatre, you weren’t at all surprised to see him broody and annoyed as he followed you out.

“If anyone should be looking like that, it’s me,” you groused, falling in to step beside him as you made your way to the snack bar. “I’m stuck on a date with that asshole.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” he grumbled, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket. “I told Sid to leave well enough alone, but she insisted.”

You hummed and lined up at the concession. “Lucky me.”

Again, you felt his stare before you actually lulled your head to the side to face him. Intense, searching eyes sweeping over your features in both concern and possible envy. “One word,” he muttered, stepping closer towards you. Too close. Not because you didn’t want him that close but because you were in public. Sid and Tatum and Stu and fucking Anthony were a stone’s throw away. “One word from you, baby, and I’ll take you home. Fuck that guy.”

You glowered across at him as though he’d grown a second head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, shit for brains, we’re in public right now. Your girlfriend could walk out any second and see or hear you.”

He seemed to mull over your words for a second but didn’t bother moving away from you. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“You do,” you rhymed off, shuffling closer to the front of the snack bar.

He ignored that. “Also, you’re my girlfriend. Stop calling her that.”

This was not a conversation the two of you should have been having in the middle of a fucking movie theatre. Looking across at him, you raised your brows and blew out a puff of air through your lips. Trying to keep up with Billy’s rationale of staying with Sid to ensure he doesn’t hurt her any further after her mother’s death all the while being with you was giving you whiplash. You knew he loved you and, begrudgingly, you loved him right back. And, a part of you knew, that he was struggling with being back in the real world just as much as you were since coming home from the cabin.

But this was not how he should have been handling it. Not out in the open like this. Especially while you were on a triple date with your friends in a theatre down the hall.

“Billy,” you muttered quietly, ensuring no one was listening in, “please let’s talk about this later. Not here. Not now. Let’s just get the fucking concessions and go, okay?”

He licked his lips and you watched his brown eyes flitter down your face before briefly looking at your own lips. He wanted to kiss you and fuck, did you want to be kissed by him.

But that wasn’t the deal.

So, instead, you watched as he took a hesitant step away from you before nodding his head once. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his shoes. “Tonight.”

“Sure,” you smirked, “I mean, if I’m not with Anthony, that is.” You almost laughed at how wide his eyes got as you uttered those words. But, when he saw the playfulness in your stare, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes as you continued. “The way he’s been mowing down on his popcorn all night has me wet as hell, so I might be busy with him later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. Then, he turned to you and gave you a crooked smile. One that almost made this horrific ordeal worth it. “You’re a real bitch when you want to be, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’ve been told.”

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

True to his word, Billy slipped in through your unlocked window a little after midnight that evening with a bag of stale licorice and a drink he’d swiped from the gas station on the way over to your house.

“We didn’t get our movie date.” Was his explanation as he popped The Lost Boys into your VCR and all but hopped in bed beside you. When you’d remained standing by your dresser, eyeing him with both curiosity and sheer happiness radiating off of your face, all you got was a confused look out of Billy before he patted your mattress. “You going to get that ass over here or what?”

So, naturally, you’d joined him.

And it took all of thirty-two minutes of watching the film for the two of you to end up pawing at one another as the tension of the day slowly peeled off of you with every layer of clothing the two of you tore off one another.

In no time, you were both stark naked on your bed as The Lost Boys played on without an audience. All Billy cared about watching was you. Watching you writhe and moan. He could watch you do just about anything, but it was that dreamy look you got on your face whenever he touched you that he had imprinted into his skull. It didn’t even have to be sexual. You just had a certain look whenever the two of you connected, one that he felt but managed to keep stowed away inside of him, but one you expressed. It was happiness.

Pure, unadulterated, bliss.

He knew you. Knew your body in and out, knew how to get you to come undone, knew what made you tick, what made you squirm.

You were muscle memory to him, at this point.

He knew you better than he knew himself.

Which is why, when you subtly stopped him from slipping his fingers inside of you, that Billy’s focus went to your ass. The only time you pushed his hand away after he’d spent minutes sucking and biting and focusing on those perfect tits, was when you were on your period.

So, he didn’t push it.

The two of you had fucked a few times whilst you were on it but you were deadest on limiting that to the lighter days. The very beginning or the end. Never in the middle. But god, did he want to experience the middle days.

You were so fucking horny when you were on your period and why you thought he’d give a shit about how much blood came out of you as the two of you fucked was beyond him.

So, he’d focus on your ass. Something that drove you to the brink of insanity and something that made him harder than anything.

But tonight, it wasn’t enough.

He needed all of you.

Ever since the cabin, he’d needed more of you in his life. It had become nearly impossible for him to show any iota of affection for Sid now that he’d had a taste of what life felt like with you at his side. You were his Final Girl. His everything, if he was being completely honest. And, while he knew he couldn’t open himself up to you to that extent, not yet, he needed you to feel that raging darkness inside of him. Not too much of it, but just enough to gauge your reaction.

If you could handle a shred of it, maybe he could share more of himself with you.

The darker parts.

His hands stilled as they trailed down your body and, as he hovered over you, he bit his lip and slowly drew tiny circles into your hips. “You’re on your period, right?”

You nodded, your lips swollen from the amount of kissing having gone on since popping the movie in. “Yeah, but it’s not a light day.”

He nodded in understanding as he bit his lip. “You think we could try it, anyway?”

Your eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “By not a light day, I mean its kind of heavy, Billy. It’d look like a crime scene in here.”

Billy made sure to keep his face stoic, but the idea of the two of you fucking whilst covered in blood was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked, dipping his head down to lick your painfully hard nipple. “It’s got to feel so fucking good, right?”

You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed in contentment when he began to suck your tit again. “It’s messy, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he released your nipple and kissed the sensitive flesh of your breast. “I like messy.”

Your head flopped back against the pillow as you thought over his request. I did feel good, but did you want Billy to have to witness you cleaning up a fucking homicide scene once he was through with you?

Blowing out a quiet raspberry, you eyed him with mock suspicion before he gave you those goddamn puppy dog eyes. “Ugh,” you groaned with a laugh, “fine. Let me take this fucking tampon out and I’ll grab a towel to put underneath me because it is heavy, and you will be grossed out.”

Billy’s cock twitched as he watched you roll out of bed before disappearing in the bathroom. Within a few moments, he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you re-emerged with a towel in hand.

He could watch you parade around like that all day. Naked, eyes hooded from desire, nipples and lips red from where his mouth had staked its claim.

You were perfect.

A vision.

You were fucking everything.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while.” He admitted, watching you carefully roll the towel onto the bed before perching your ass directly on top of it so as to avoid any potential leakage onto your sheets.

“I wish I could say I was shocked.” You teased, laying back down. Spreading your legs, he watched you slip a finger through your folds to tease your clit.  

He swallowed as he watched you finger yourself. But then your words sank in and a panic settled in his chest as he swept his eyes up your body to meet your amused stare. “What’s that mean?”

You shrugged so casually as you continued the tirade on your own pussy. “All the scary movies we watch and stuff. You get hard as a rock if there’s a scene with a pretty girl and some blood.”

Billy froze. This was only supposed to be a peek inside of his darkness, not a full-blown window. But you didn’t seem all too fazed by it either, which confused him endlessly.

Rather than deny it, Billy hesitantly reached for your cunt to replace your fingers with his own. He didn’t delve inside of your pussy just yet, just circled your clit the way you’d been doing seconds prior. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He whispered, placing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Nah,” you hummed, “we’ve all got our kinks, I guess.”

You released a quiet moan as he pinched your clit, but his eyes never left your face. He knew you were talking about blood in respect to the movies, but your casual tone still caught him off guard. There was no shame in it, no doubt. Just an honest to god shrug as he circled your clit with his middle finger.

Testing the waters, Billy slipped his fingers down your pussy so that his thumb coaxed your clit as he slipped two fingers inside of you. At first, it simply felt like you were soaked on account of all of the teasing and, maybe you were, but as he glanced down at the base of his fingers as he pulled them out of you, Billy nearly moaned.

Blood.

Your blood.

All over his fingers, pooling along the top of his palm.

Billy was fascinated. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt blood between his fingers, but not like this. When he’d killed Maureen Prescott, there was so much fucking blood that he’d been sick afterwards. He hadn’t expected that level of destruction but, after puking a few blocks away, he didn’t exactly shy away from it. He thought about it often, thought of the carnage that had surrounded him once he’d finished with Sidney’s mother, thought of the way the blood felt between his fingers, splayed and smattered across every inch of his body.

But this was euphoric.

Because he didn’t have to hurt anybody to feel that warmth on his palm. In fact, as he slowly slipped his fingers inside of your hot cunt, he was doing anything but. You were gyrating into his hand, unknowingly spreading your blood further and it was killing him. He was so fucking hard, too fucking hard, but he didn’t want to rush a damned thing.

He’d thought about this far too often for it to be over so soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slipping his hand out of your pussy just long enough to slowly spread your blood down your inner thigh. It left a fine red trail that he had every intention of lapping up in a few seconds if you were to allow it. “You feel so good, baby.”

He’d half expected you to make a comment about making a bigger mess than what your piddly little towel would allow but, as he slowly found your hooded eyes through the dim light of your bedroom, only hunger marred your pretty face.

Desire.

Intrigue.

Leaning in, Billy placed a small kiss to the apple of your cheek as his fingers continued to fuck you. “Does this feel good?”

“So good,” you rasped out, leaning your forehead against his as you bit your lip to swallow back a moan. Between your arousal and the blood, the natural lubrication that coated your pussy as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of you all the while rubbing your clit was killing you. “So fucking good, Billy.”

He smirked and quickened his pace on your clit just enough to drive you to madness as he bit down on your earlobe. His breath was hot against your cheek. “I want to taste you tonight.”

Though the promise of his tongue replacing his thumb enticed you, the fact that you were on day two and a half of your period was not a good plan. So why were you intrigued? A part of you wanted to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was but a much larger part of you wanted to see how feral Billy could get where you were concerned.

Torn, you pulled back and searched his eyes. “It’s going to be…messy, Billy.”

His dark chuckle was velvet against your skin. “I already told you,” he curled his fingers inside of you and admired the way your entire body twitched. “I like messy.”

He began to kiss his way down your body. You tried not to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling across every inch of your skin on his way down or the way his teeth nipped and bit at your stomach and hips as he positioned himself between your thighs. But mainly, you tried not to focus on how fucking bloody it was between your thighs because you knew that Billy wouldn’t be down there long on account of it.

“You don’t have to do this tonight, Billy,” you tried to reason, chest heaving in anticipation as he settled between your legs.

Something flashed across his face as he held your stare. For a second, you were almost sure he was going to back out and leave well enough alone, but then you watched as the bastard leaned into your pussy and raked his tongue from the base of your pussy right up to your bloodied mound.

He held your stare the entire time.

“I want you like this,” he assured you, yanking you further down the bed so that you were right at the edge. His voice was hoarse and breathy and as you chanced a look down at him through a pair of hooded, drowsy eyes, you watched him pump his cock with his free hand as he licked his lips. “I love you like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he buried his face between your thighs. You gasped at the contact but didn’t shy away from his touch for a single second as he slowly lapped at your core. With the one hand still gripping your hips, holding you firmly against his tongue, you knew there would be bruises where his fingers carved into your flesh, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was desperate to get you closer into his face and you were desperate to feel that perfect fucking tongue on your pussy.

It was as though he’d been possessed in those few moments. Billy couldn’t get enough of you on a good day but tasting you like this was enough to make Billy wild. Your pussy, the blood mixed with your slick, tasted so fucking good on his tongue. Burying his face further into your folds, he nuzzled at your clit and, now forgetting about his own pulsing cock, pulled you even closer.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Billy moaned into your pussy and bit down on your clit just enough to entice a moan that was probably a little too loud for your parents being home. But, he didn’t care. He refused to care in that instance.

All he wanted, all he cared about, was tasting as much of you as humanly possible before making you come on his tongue.

His name tore out of your throat as you gripped his hair between your fingers and pulled. You were being rougher than normal, and he fucking loved it. You were pulling on his hair and bucking into his mouth with such hunger that he could barely breathe but fuck he didn’t care. If this was how he was taken out, so be it.

“Baby,” you whined, voice low. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Your grip on his hair was vice-like as the veins in your neck swelled. With wild, laboured breaths, you found yourself bucking into his mouth as a white-hot orgasm rippled through your entire body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed, but Billy’s mouth was relentless.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, that he pulled away and allowed you to collapse back onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your body, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

He could feel your blood all over his chin and nose and as he licked it off, using his fingers to swipe at the areas his tongue couldn’t quite reach, Billy was coasting on a high that only you could provide.

“Oh, god,” you buried your face into the pillow with a quiet laugh as you moved to get off the bed. “Hang on, I’ll grab you a towel for your face.”

“No,” Billy shook his head and grabbed for your wrist. “I want to see it.”

You blinked and scraped your eyes along his bloodied face. Your nipples were still rock hard and your cunt was still pulsing on account of his tongue, but it was the look of pure ecstasy on his face that made you clench.

He was being serious.

“Come with me,” he hummed, slipping off of the bed to head towards the small bathroom attached to your room. His fingers threaded through yours as you both walked across your bedroom before flicking the light on.

The vision that he was met with made his cock twitch.

Your blood coated almost everything from his nose down his chin and as you stood beside him, looking at him through the mirror, still fully naked and still housing bloody handprints left behind from his busy hands coating the lower half of your body, Billy had never wanted to bury himself inside of you any more than he did right then and there.

He found your curious stare through the mirror. Your pretty eyes swept over the mess of blood left behind on account of you and as you turned to face him, he found himself hypnotized as you reached out to sweep his hair back and away from his forehead.

“Blood suits you,” you teased with a small smile. “Horrifically enough.”

He said nothing as those brown eyes soaked you in but as he stepped into you, cornering you against the sink counter, the look on his face said everything. He didn’t kiss you though. He seemed to hesitate, as though gauging if you’d kiss him whilst covered in your own menstrual blood. “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted almost sheepishly.

He nuzzled your neck and slipped his knee between your thighs to allow himself better access to your pussy. With his hand wrapped securely around his cock, he slipped the head of his dick along your folds and swallowed hard as he watched your blood coat the head of it. “Fuck,” he whispered as his forehead fell against your own. “You’re going to make me come before I’m even inside of you.”

You were watching his face as he once again slipped the head of his cock through your folds so it teased your clit. His eyes were so dark and there was so much desire in those warm eyes that it almost caught you off guard.

“You’re really into this,” you remarked quietly. When his eyes found yours, you could see blind panic cross over his face as he instinctually took a step away from you. You stopped him before he could think of stopping himself. “Hey,” you cooed, reaching out for his face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, relax.”

You felt the tension in his shoulders disperse as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re too good for me,” he muttered, cradling your face. “You know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” you goaded with a smile. “I know.”

He barked out a quiet laugh and ground his hips into yours. “A smartass, too.”

You hummed as his hands slid down your body to hold you against the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” Billy nipped at your neck.

You leaned back to allow him full access to your neck. “How did I taste?” Your words seemed to make him still as he slowly pulled back to search your eyes. “With the blood. How did it taste?”

The look on Billy’s face was primal as his grip on your hips tightened. Leaning in, he nudged your nose so that your lips were perfectly aligned with his. “Kiss me and find out.”

You weren’t sure at first, but as he closed the distance between you, you found yourself leaning into the kiss both curious and slightly mortified by the taste of your blood on his lips. It was strange and you weren’t sure if you liked it at first, if you were being honest. It was coppery and a little sticky and yet as he walked the two of you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed, you found yourself hungry for more.

With your fingers tangled through his hair you gave it a tug, garnering a low growl that rumbled in his throat as he continued on with the bruising kiss. When the back of his knees hit your bed, the two of you fell into a jumbled mess on your mattress, never once breaking for air as your tongues battled for dominance.

Expertly, knowing the way your body moved better than anyone, Billy moved you in such a way that he was sitting up in the middle of your bed as you straddled his lap. And as you lowered yourself onto his pulsing cock, the gruff low moan that tore out of his lips was enough to kill you.

His large hands splayed out across your back, guiding you further into his hungry mouth as your bleeding cunt teased him beyond belief. You were so wet and with every twist of your hips and every gentle moan, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything else besides just how fucking good you felt.

Digging your nails into his shoulders, blood slowly pooled in the wake of your crescent moon shaped nail markings. He hissed at the sensation and squeezed your tits rather roughly as he tried to stop himself from coming right then and there.

But then you lowered your lips onto his shoulders and he felt your hot tongue trace over every last cut and he almost lost it. There you were, with dried blood all over your chin and parts of your cheeks from having kissed him after going down on you, licking the blood that gathered along his shoulders.

He was in a state of euphoria.

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He pushed out, revelling in the feel of how warm and wet your pussy felt.

Rather than say a word, all you did was bite down on the reddened area of his shoulder as you quickened your pace on his dick.

Drawing more blood.

Licking up more of his blood.

Something in him snapped to life in that instance. An almost ancient need bubbled to the surface as he held you there against him. Your tits bounced as you writhed on top of him and as he began to meet you halfway with violent, earth shattering thrusts, the outside world ceased to exist.

The sound of his balls hitting your sopping pussy combined with the sound of your wetness, both slick and blood, squelching all around the two of you was all that surrounded you as you whined out his name. You could barely breathe as he pounded into you, barely function.

“Billy, fuck, I—”

His mouth buried your words with another hungry kiss. You were both breathless and desperate to be as close to the other as humanly possible as you sat on your bed, fucking each other raw. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, gently tugging at it as his forehead fell against your own.

There was a shift after the cabin that you’d both felt inside of you, but there was a shift in the air tonight, as well. An unspoken trust, of sorts, that went beyond anything the two of you were prepared for.  

His hips bucked into yours one final time before he came undone inside of you. A flood of warmth settled in your belly as he came and as his thumb continued to circle your clit, rubbing and pinching at it every step of the way, you soon followed suit.

With one last shaky pump, Billy held you there as he slowly pulled out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheek, down your neck, and along your shoulder before his eyes found yours once again.

His thumb skirted across the apple of your cheek. “You’re my girl,” he whispered, revelling in just how fucking gorgeous you looked in that instance. “You know that?”

“I do,” you affirmed, kissing him softly. “You’re helping me clean my fucking bedsheets in the morning,” you muttered, “do you know that?”

Despite everything, Billy found himself smiling across at you before glancing down at the bloody mess of your sheets. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “I do.”

“Good,” you gently smacked his cheek and crawled off of your bed towards the bathroom.

“Where you going?” He asked, watching your naked body pad out of the room.

“Shower,” you merely said before popping your head around the corner. “Care to join me?”

Billy was at your side within the blink of an eye.

hehehehehehehe let me know if yall like it 

[saiyanmyname]

Enji X Reader

Finally got chapter 9 up! Here's a little teaser, read more in the link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33785539/chapters/89345434

He turned back to you, mouth half open, about to say something, brows furrowed above bright blue eyes that looked at you with adoration. You leant up to him through the stream of water, onto your toes, the shower falling like rain on your closed lids, placing a kiss on his lips. They were warm and gentle, and weakened beneath yours, gladly welcoming the feel of your tongue slipping between them.

He sighed, releasing your mouth from his, with a satisfied hum. Enji lathered his fingers over your shoulders, kneading the tightness from them, rubbing the soapy froth down your sides.

“Turn for me then.” He instructed quietly.

You did as he asked, turning to face the tiles...

[actualbird]

you: tot luke marius fic

me:FJJFJDIDJFJSJJF??? PLEASE?? 👉👈 god a concept or anything PLEASEEE i need this.... (dont share if ur not ready ofc!!! but i am desperate) i also remember when u mentioned an idea for awkward marius but didnt elaborate and i had to PHYSICALLY RESTRAIN MYSELF lol what big brain takes r u hiding....

wait this has other colours??

EEEEEE okay so this fic was actually the first ever tot fic i started working on but then i got distracted and went onto other fics so it is very underdeveloped but i do have Things To Show As Teasers because now i wanna go back to it

like heres my Emotions on the whole luke and marius friendship

and then i spent like an hour tryna think of how they would become friends but then remembered that, ever since marius took over as pax CEO, marius' every action is being dissected and pried open and shit all over by the media (like i have lost count how many card stories he mentions that hes constantly trending and in like the WORST WAYS can we give this dude a break????)

but YEAH heres the summary of the fic

Pax Group playboy Marius von Hagen bats for the other team!? Marius von Hagen is notoriously well known for his bad boy image, piping hot good looks, and blasé personality. Often spotted going home with many beautiful women in the upper echelons of society, it’s no surprise that we’ve assumed he must be one hell of a playboy with the girls, but now we’re thinking it might have been an act all along! Last night, Marius was spotted with a brunet mystery man at the Central Business district. The two seemed quite cozy, if the following picture is anything to go by. Later, the two were seen entering Marius’ apartment building, the unknown man only leaving the next morning. Keep up with this story by subscribing to The Stellis Tattler! - Or the one where Marius and Luke become friends. And then, of course, they subsequently get hounded by sensationalist tabloids.

and then some additional thoughts on the whole premissseeee

VERY MESSY ALL AROUND, BASICALLY, but thanks to ur post my energy for this concept has been reignited hhhHH. U DID THIS TO ME. FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART, THANK YOU, BUT ALSO //froths at the mouth

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “A Cottage by the Sea”

Good news, shipmates!! There’s a reason I am promo-ing this fic this Sunday. I finally have a new (and rather lengthy) update for this long neglected fic ready to go tomorrow. It’s been such a while though that I felt like I should tease it a bit and put the story back in peoples’ memories - as well as post easy links to the previous chapters. To those who have been waiting, I am truly sorry. After this, there should only be one more part, more of an epilogue really, so you shouldn’t have too much more waiting in store...

(Also always, a HUGE thank you to @searchingwardrobes for the stunning fic cover art!  And to @kmomof4 and the @cssns20 for patience as this story stretched out so long, and for the reblogs and recognition.)

Summary: Princess Emma has always been drawn to the shores of Misthaven, where the sea meets the sand near her parents’ castle. When an unknown boy washes up on the beach, with eyes as fathomless and blue as the waters that brought him to her, he soon becomes Emma’s best friend, her partner in crime, and her other half.  But the tides give and the tides take away, and as her blue-eyed boy sails in her father’s navy and risks all in defense of those who made him family, unexpected danger and challenge will try to tear them apart, and might well show him just where he came from that day he first appeared to her from the sea…

Previous chapters here on Tumblr: Prologue  Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four

Previous chapters on AO3: Prologue     Part One    Part Two    Part Three    Part Four

And, as promised, a bit of a teaser for the tomorrow’s update... ;)

“...No sooner had Emma been able to swallow hard in a throat suddenly parched with apprehension, her fingers clenched in the material of Killian’s sleeve, above all else determined she wouldn’t let him be taken from her again, when everything around them went horribly, unnaturally still. The waves, the wind, all their surroundings silently seeming to hold their breath before chaos broke loose. For one last moment, she and her lieutenant fixed their eyes on each other; wordlessly swearing to see each other on the other side, whether or not it was within their power to follow through on such a promise. Then he turned to face his sire - if one could truly be made to believe that the monstrous captain towering over them at the prow of the other ship could have had any connection to the true and honorable man Killian had become. Intending to remain at his back, to do whatever she could to help him fight and keep them afloat, Emma straightened her shoulders and stiffened her spine as they waited and watched.

Sound and fury returned to the world around them as the accursed captain reached the very helm of his ship, bringing him fully into view as his low, malevolent chuckle at their show of resolve seemed to set the waves crashing and churning once more. “Oh ho, Killian, you’ve brought your intended to our long-awaited reunion, have you? Not particularly well-advised, but she is a pretty wench. I supposed I can see why you’d be loath to leave her behind.”

Killian’s frown deepend, the muscle in his jaw working as he bit down on his anger. Those eyes that she usually likened to the brilliance of a summer sky or the blue of his beloved ocean were instead lit with the pale fire of the hottest of flames at Davy’s callous words. “Hardly,” he clipped in a low growl. “I had no intention of meeting you at all. And I’ll not have you getting anywhere near Emma.”

“Is that so?” Davy snarled, his own temper seeming to erupt at his offspring’s defiance. “We’ll just see about that!”

The waves their little boat floated upon suddenly seemed propelled forward, rising on a towering crest of water as if drawn to Davy’s hand. Skilled a sailor as Killian was, there was no steering them anywhere else when the very elements were turned against them. The air seemed to quiver just as Emma found herself doing, as they came face-to-face with the accursed being. The boards of the vessel beneath their feet groaned and creaked as the frothing sea bearing it seemed ready to dash it to kindling. The air whistled and howled, whipping her hair against her face until she was nearly blinded. And yet, she saw the horrifying shade who faced them, the dark cloud of obsession clouding eyes which might once have been clear and striking as the sons he claimed as his own. He stood taller than the average man, seeming even larger with the wild hair and wide-brimmed, ostentatiously old-fashioned hat atop his head. All his dress was from a more ornate and bygone age, and yet looked gone to ruin rather than impressive; almost mildewed, or perhaps it was a growth of some sort of moss or coral upon his apparel after so long within the sea. Beyond the visible appearance however, the aura of evil power practically radiated from his being, and Emma felt herself draw back before even realizing she had done so.

Pleased with the nightmare impression he never failed to make, Davy Jones chortled in maniacal glee. “Oh yes, I see you there, Princess. Try not to fret overmuch. No matter how brave, they always cower before me in the end.”

She wanted to contradict his words, to call back that Killian wasn’t afraid and that she believed in him, but Emma found her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, speechless and unable to react other than to stare, frozen, until with one last murderous crow, Davy cackled, “You’re both in my clutches, and no hope to escape. Look your last on the world above...”

Tagging a few who might be interested... @cssns @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @jrob64 @stahlop @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @thislassishooked @xsajx @drowned-dreamer @thisonesatellite @shireness-says @aloha-4-ever​ @ultraluckycatnd​