#billy burn x you

[freak-accident419]

Good Looking Boy

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: You and Billy make your endeavor to escape. Then you’re faced with Melinda. But what will even happen after all of this insanity?

Word Count: 3.0k

Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, guns, attempted suicide(?), smoking, mentions of death

(A/n: thank you for all the support, thank you all so much for reading!!)

-

“You got it yet?” Billy asks.

“Yeah, yeah, hold on, almost there,” you reply hastily.

After a while, you two decided to find different ways to escape. After your conversations and laughter would die down, you’d realize the dire situation you two were in, getting back on track as you figured Melinda could come in any second now and cause more destruction.

You two came up with the idea of releasing your leg first, which was duct taped to the chair leg, because it was probably the easiest restraint to get out of. Your position was complicated because you were laying on the floor on your side, still stuck to the chair. You shimmied your leg, gradually removing its attachment from your pants, rolling the duct tape into a thin ring that you can slide out from the chair leg.

That was the plan, at least. You weren’t successful yet.

Until you began to see the tape begin to roll in on itself, becoming thinner and more flexible around your leg, unsticking from your pants. “Oh shit!” You gasp in awe, continuing to jerk your leg. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“What? Is it working?” Billy asked, trying to look behind him, but only able to see the back legs of your chair.

“Almost, it—” Your eyes widen as you keeping moving your leg, then tried to scoop the ring of duct tape out of the chair leg, stretching it until…

“Fuck! Yes!” You exclaim in delight, slightly panting from how much energy it took. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“You got it out?” He inquired urgently.

Your one leg was entirely free. Sure, it was a small victory, but it was a crucial step in getting out of here alive. “Yeah,” you replied, smiling. “Yeah, I-I did, now what?”

”Okay! Good! Alright. Good job, Y/n,” he says supportively. “Umm… Shit, now what?” He mumbled to himself in frustration.

Your other leg was still duct taped to the chair, but it was against the floor due to your position. There seemed to be no way to do the same thing you had previously done to get your first leg out.

“Um… Fuck…” you muttered.

“Maybe… Maybe we could try to break out of the zip ties. If a lot of force is used, you could potentially break it,” he suggested.

“Wouldn’t that really, like, damage our wrists or something?” You asked anxiously.

“At this point, it doesn’t fucking matter, yeah? As long as we get out of this goddamn chair,” he replied. “We should push our hands out in the opposite direction, one forceful movement by one. At the same time. And just keep repeating it until it hopefully breaks, or something.”

“Okay… Alright…” You agree.

“At the count of three…” he began, “One, two, three—”

You two jolted your wrists in the direction opposite from each other. Nothing happened. At least, not yet.

“Okay,” you breathe. “One, two, three—”

You do the same, quick motion again, using as much force as you could. Nothing yet, but you could almost feel that it was close to breaking.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself. “Alright. One, two, three.”

Another powerful yank, but still nothing.

“Okay, okay, we can do this,” you breathe. “We can do this. One, two, three—”

A snapping noise sounds as the white zip ties break, letting your wrists separate from Billy’s as you two gasp happily in relief.

“Yes! Fuck!”

The entire time, you and Billy were continuing to break out of each restraint. Billy let his single leg loose, and you two attempted to drag yourselves closer to the desk. Finally, you stretched your leg and used your shoe to drag the scissors off the desk, pushing it on the floor to your hands. It was finally in range and you grabbed it, first cutting the tape that withheld your upper arms and torsos, giving you enough reach to cut the other zip tie.

After a few quick moments, once you two felt free of all the restraints, you immediately scampered out from the chair on the floor in opposite directions, picking yourself up until you stood, completely and wholeheartedly free.

You two immediately turned around, looking down at the two chairs on the floor, then finally looking up at each other.

Billy was very attractive.

He was practically the epitome of handsome. Like, he wasn’t the most attractive guy in the entire history of them, but he was strikingly cute. The first thing you noticed was the burn on the side of his face, in which you then remembered he told you that it was Melinda’s doing. He wore a fleece jean jacket and light blue skinny jeans, and a small gold earring. And while you were falling for him as you had conversed, you felt like you were falling even deeper as you saw his soft brown eyes.

There was a bit of silence between you two as you just looked at each other. You had been stuck together for almost an hour, but you had already gained a mutual admiration for each other.

Billy didn’t expect you to be this attractive. Actually, he didn’t really expect anything, and neither did you. But he truly and indefinitely believed that you were beautiful. Probably the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

He broke the silence by clearing his throat, walking over to you. He wasn’t very tall, but that sort of just added to his charm. He took out his hand. “Thought we should’ve had a proper introduction. I’m Billy.” You could feel his mannerisms be a bit rushed because you were still in the same building of a psychopath.

“I’m Y/n,” you shake his hand quickly.

“Nice shirt.”

“Nice jacket.”

Billy turns around, then looks at the lockers with intrigue. He slowly makes his way towards it, looking at each of the small vaults. As you watched this, your eyes trailed downward, seeing a long, dark green bag on the floor by the wall. Your attention was pulled away from it, however, as he brought his hand inside of one locker, seemingly grabbing something from inside it.

You felt your heart race as you saw the revolver in his hands. It was like he was able to sense your fear, because he tucked it into his pants immediately and walked towards you unthreateningly. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he claims. You nodded softly. You trusted him. Even though you only knew each other for such a short period of time, you two had told each other so much about yourselves. It was a weird shared trauma bond, that made you wish you met on different circumstances.

“How are your wrists?” He asks gently.

You present them to him. “They’re okay,” you answered. He took your hands into his, observing the faint bruise along the wrist that you broke out the zip tie with. His fingertips were soft on your skin, the brief contact making your face heat up, almost. You then move your hands under his to see the small indents on his wrists caused by the zip ties, rubbing over it softly with your thumb. You two look up at each other and chuckle softly, looking back down and coyly smiling to yourselves.

“We should—we should go,” you say after a while.

“Right. Yeah,” Billy says, letting go of each other’s hands then cautiously looking at the desolate, white door that would lead into the store. Before you could take another step towards it, it slowly opened by itself.

And Melinda her-fucking-self was behind it.

She had a look of shock on her face, as she didn’t expect to come back to her captives being free. Immediately, Billy took out his gun, pointing it at her, making her involuntary raise her hands up in surrender, placing his other arm in front of you, letting you stay behind him.

There was fear in Melinda’s watery eyes. She let out small sniffles as she looked at the barrel of the gun, then at you and Billy.

“I-I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” she stammered, voice cracking and tears gradually falling down. “You… You can take the money and go, it’s-it’s all there.”

You wondered what was wrong with her. What exactly drove her to do all this stuff. How she never called the cops on Billy and instead tie him up. How she tied you up because you witnessed it.

“This didn’t have to be complicated, Melinda,” Billy says sternly, a look of hatred and disgust towards her.

“I-I know,” she whispered.

“And… and you brought them into this for no reason too! They were fucking innocent, and you just had to bring them into this! I mean, I get that you would tie me up, I robbed you, but Y/n? Innocent.” He asserted. “You made me kill somebody, Melinda. I am not a killer, but you… you made me kill Sheila. You fucking made me kill somebody.”

“No, I- I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please. You can just go. I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry. The money is on the floor. Behind the counter. Just leave me alone, please,” she pleaded, continuing to cry. She then looked at you. “I’m sorry-I’m sorry I tied you up too, I was scared that you’d get the police.”

You sighed heavily and looked at Billy, relying on him for direction. But she continued on, making you look back at her again.

“I—I’m going to burn this whole place down.” She claimed. “I’ve covered the entire store in gasoline, just leave while you still can, p-please.”

“Why the fuck should I believe anything you say?” There was hostility in his voice. “Walk.” He ordered, waving the gun around, gesturing for her to walk back into the store.

Billy walks towards her as she goes backwards, with you following him. The neon blue lights of the store caressed your skin as you passed the door, completely leaving the employees only back room and being met with short aisles, composed of shelves filled with candy and chips.

“The money, it’s back there,” she pointed as you were now all in the center of the store. He looked at her with suspicion, slowly making his way to the front counter. You followed behind him, leaving Melinda with her hands up as Billy seemed to have found it, grabbing a black backpack and swinging it over his shoulders. Then, you two turned around to see Melinda, except…

She looked at you two with bloodshot, sad eyes, and an ignited lighter in her right hand. Shit. You looked down, and it appears she wasn’t lying, because gasoline coated the bottom of your shoes. “Okay, good, you can… you can have the money, just… just leave me now, please,” she begged.

“Wait. Let’s just… We can get you help, okay?” You offered, feeling a bit of sympathy for her. You knew she wasn’t exactly right in the head.

“Y/n, no,” Billy warned, looking at you sternly. “I honestly love how you continue to prove to me how much of a good heart you have, but Melinda? She is fucking crazy.”

“That’s why we should, I don’t know, get the cops, get her to a hospital—“

“Y/n. You don’t know what she’s done. Plus, we cannot get the cops involved. What are we gonna tell them, huh? What, are we gonna mention the fact that I was trying to rob the place? That it was my gun that fucking killed Sheila?” He stammered, which ultimately saddened you. “This woman is beyond redemption, okay?”

“So what? What, are we just going to watch her set herself on fire? Yeah? You’re really going to be okay with that?”

“Y/n, please. I don’t want to argue with you. It’s us or her. Do you see the goddamn lighter in her hand? She’s going to drop it any second and she is not going to wait for us, so we have to go. Okay?” He urged, grabbing onto your shoulder and leading you two to the backdoor, still pointing his gun at Sheila.

“Billy, wait,” you plead. “What if she’s just bluffing?”

“And risk catching on fucking fire, huh? We have no fucking time, let’s go!” He exclaimed, leading you out to the backdoor, your eyes meeting with Melinda before you were abruptly shoved outside.

It was freezing. Every exhale you took was visible in the cold air.

Billy closed the back door, moving the dumpster to block the exit. You two stood outside, a few feet away from the building, waiting for it to be set in flames. But it wasn’t. So either Melinda was truthfully bluffing or changed her mind. But you felt grateful, because you would’ve felt guilty if she hadn’t.

You took out a pack of cigarettes from your pocket, grabbing one from it, placing it between your lips and taking out a lighter from your other pocket. As you first exhale, you watch the back of the building. Nothing going on at all.

You weren’t sure what would happen after this. If Melinda would go to the police. If Billy would get caught and/or pay back his debt with the bikers. And what would you do?

You turn your head to look at Billy.

“May I…?” He trailed off, gesturing to the cigarette in between your fingers.

You chuckle under your breath then handed him it, watching him place it in his mouth and taking a drag. It was kind of silent. And it was still cold.

“Are you gonna go pay off your debt now?” You ask him softly.

You watched the smoke escape his lips as he nods. “Yeah. Then I’ll just… get the hell out of this fucking place…”

There was another moment of silence. An uncomfortable, uncertain silence.

“Will I… Will I ever see you again?” You ask hesitantly as he hands you back your cigarette.

He gives a low chuckle, offering you a gentle smile. “You’d really want to see me again?”

You hummed softly. “I feel like it’d be nice…” You say quietly. “Maybe when I’ll be getting gas again, you’re there to rob the store.”

He scoffed. “Y/n—“

“I’m messing with you,” you let out a small laugh. He smiles at you. You felt comfortable now. And you shouldn’t have been, because it was fucking freezing, but as cliché as it was, he was warming your heart.

He looked into your eyes deeply, which drove you to observe his soft face. You couldn’t exactly describe what his facial expression was or meant at this moment—until he expressed it with his words:

“Come with me, Y/n. Please.”

It was urgency. It was a look of urgency and desperation.

“I’ll pay off the biker assholes and then—then I’ll pick you up and we can leave together. Come on. How does that sound?”

“Billy, I—“ You were shocked. You didn’t want to throw your whole life out in this way. You were very fond of Billy, you could swear it, but this was too much. “I can’t, I… It’s just too… too crazy.”

“I-I understand. Completely. But fuck, I… I don’t want to lose you…”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You felt bad. You didn’t want to lose him either. Goddamnit, why did he have to be a damn fugitive?

“Somebody’s gonna have to work cashier number five for Macy’s, Billy,” you joke softly. You put out the cigarette on the snow and grabbed his hand. It was comfortable in yours, fingers fidgeting with each other, rubbing the skin tenderly. You rubbed your thumb over the gold ring that embraced his index finger, in which the metal was warm against your skin. “If we were in… another circumstance, maybe I would. But… I can’t just throw my life away like this. While you’d be starting anew, I’d be discarding everything I’ve ever known. I can’t sacrifice that for you.”

He nodded, staring at his hand in yours. He wouldn’t have thought you would have agreed anyway. He just had so much hope. Like his goddamn Marlboro, he wanted more of you. “Right… Okay, I understand,” he reckons dejectedly.

“I’m sorry,” you say warmly as you watch his thumb move across the back of your hand. You look back up at him.

“It’s okay,” he replies gently. “I hope I’ll see you again, Y/n.”

“Me too,” you add.

“Goodbye, Y/n. Thanks for… for getting us out of that shit hole. And… being a good person.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “Give yourself some credit, dude. We escaped together. It was a team effort. And also… I think you’re genuinely a good person too. You were just… faced with unlucky predicaments.”

He grins appreciatively, letting out a small chuckle. He looked down at your hands that were in his, then back at you. “Bye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Billy,” you felt the warmth of his hands leave yours, making his way back to the front of the gas station to get to his car, leaving you there to stand alone in the cold…

*** A Few Weeks Later ***

If you had to do a rundown of everything that had happened ever since, then it would be simple—you got away with all of it. Melinda must have had permanently discarded all of the camera footage before police could get it. But as seen in the news, she was arrested for accessory to murder, then hospitalized from signs of mental illness. It seemed that she didn’t reveal much and ended up lying, because you never saw Billy’s face or information on any wanted posters.

Now you were at your job, working as a cashier, handing a woman her receipt after she paid for her items. She then left with her bags after chirping an expression of gratitude. Your head remains downward, sort of dispirited and not in the mood today. “Welcome, did you find everything alright?” You enunciate in monotone, yet with a slight endeavored cheerful tone, as you saw the figure of the new customer in your peripheral vision. You grabbed the single item that the customer placed on the counter and scanned it sluggishly.

However, you finally paid attention to your surroundings and realized what the purchase was: a Kentucky Wildcats cap. You let a sharp inhale, as the sports team only reminded you of…

You look up to see the customer standing in front of you. Your eyes widen as your breathing stopped.

You really couldn’t believe your eyes.

There was a smirk on his face as you felt a blissful smile begin to tug on your lips.

“‘Go Wildcats,’ am I right?” Billy recites.

#billy burn #burn 2019 #billy burn x reader #billy burn x gn!reader #billy x reader #burn josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x gn!reader #billy burn x you #gender neutral reader #mike schmidt x reader #clapton davis x reader #peeta mellark x reader #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt #peeta mellark #clapton davis #gn!reader

[xcherryerim]

Double The Fall, Triple The Pleasure

- Billy x Gn!reader x Derek -

“Merrier the more, triple fun that way. Twister on the floor, what do you say?” — 3 by Britney Spears

word count: 3.6k

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18 ONLY

Warning: Threesome (this is a love corner with the reader, not a love triangle. I AM NOT shipping Josh characters together) | sexual tension | Penetration | Giving and receiving oral sex (no genitals specified for the reader) | Choking kink | Masturbation | Handjobs | Praise and degradation | Porn with plot | light mentions of vaping, alcohol and gambling addiction. | Reader is submissive btw | Derek is a possessive jealous fuck (but also a needy loser)

Summary: As you work your shift as a casino host Derek Danforth, the son of the co-owner, decides to begin a round of baccarat with a stranger named Billy. Somehow you end up participating in the game and emerge victorious, causing the two players to owe you financial compensation but, they end up repaying you in another way.

(if you want to go directly to the smut section look for the “✦ “ symbol.)

There are two distinct types of gamblers. The rich make hasty decisions with their money, while the desperate lot implore and pray to the machines and chips, hoping for a miraculous windfall of riches. 

As a casino host, your responsibility is to ensure that the patrons become loyal to the establishment; however, as a bystander, when a person who isn’t a part of the one percent plays, it’s impossible to hold back the feeling of regret. While you acknowledge you are fulfilling your obligation, you know it is easy to become engulfed by obsessing gambling, and you don’t wish that on anyone. 

However, you do not care if the rich pour their monetary possessions into the abyss, and you maintained that sentiment toward Derek Danforth, the son of one of the casino’s co-owners.

He wasn’t a regular at the establishment and gambled a little, but occasionally brought his friends to indulge in excessive drinking, and smoking while toying with machines. However, now he was by himself, which was unusual. 

“Mr. Danforth, it is a pleasure to have you back. Would you like your usual?” you inquired. “Huh?” A confused response erupted from his lips, his body lurching forward with a wobbly movement. The apparent intoxication exhibited by him appeared on the edge of his consciousness as he scanned the area once more.

“Yeah, and I want a table,” he uttered the request, with minimal confusion.

“Certainly. Would the others in your group be joining us this time?”

Derek shook his head, his body appearing unsteady as he did so. “No, just me.” 

“Oh, how so?” you questioned, your tone of voice maintaining professionalism as it did during work.

“Just bored,” he responded with a shrug, unbothered by the circumstances, even as you detected a hint of inebriation.

“Oh, indeed, a casino is the ideal way to take away boredom,” you remarked with a feigned professional tone, although the sarcasm in your words was all too obvious.

“Why don’t you join me for a round?” he inquired as he seated himself at the velvety green table, awaiting your response.

“I’m here to ensure everyone’s enjoyment and prevent any illegal behavior,” you replied, concealing your hostility and disdain for a facade of civility.

“I am not a participant, but a spectator, Mr. Danforth,” you concluded, using a firm tone with a mild undertone of mockery.

“You don’t seem to have much enjoyment yourself,” Derek said as he inhaled from the vape he held, the vapor surrounding you before dissipating into the atmosphere.

“I’ve said it once, and I’ll repeat it. Drop that professional speech style. We’re around the same age, so why do you still feel the need to communicate with me like this?” he stated, sounding frustrated with continuing your formal conduct.

“If I speak like I do, I will get fired for unprofessionalism.” You retorted as you prepared the negroni and handed it over to him.

“I won’t allow that to happen,” he replied, taking in a generous sip from the glass before continuing his words. “You’re too hot to lose.”

You felt uncertain about whether to offer a genuine response to his flirtation or simply scoff at it, and you began to silently pray that he would not launch into another lecture about cryptocurrency, which had become an irksome topic of conversation during your prior interactions. 

“Thank you, Mr. Danforth. It means a lot.” You spoke, avoiding direct visual contact to avoid any implications or insinuations. While you acknowledge that he is a physically attractive man, the irritation he can induce within you is bigger than your attraction for him, or at least that is what you try to tell yourself.

“I’m assuming a solo round?” You mentioned shifting the subject. 

“Not quite...” he replied, his gaze examining the environment until he managed to pinpoint the individual of interest, a man around his same height, adorned with dark-toned hair and a jean jacket, giving an out-of-place demeanor compared to the ambiance of this prestigious gambling establishment, thus providing a vulnerable and susceptible target.

Derek walked with confidence as he had already won the game. “Hello, I’m Derek, Derek Danforth,” he proclaimed, displaying his self-assured attitude and firm grip as he shook hands with the stranger, showcasing his superiority complex.

“Billy, and yeah, I will join you.” The individual stated this with assertiveness, grasping tightly onto his gold necklace, an item he viewed as his lucky charm.

In your inner thoughts, you were fervently hoping that the gentleman with the cowboy-esque appearance would end up victorious and leave the premises swiftly and promptly. You were aware that the significant bets Derek had made in the past were so large that they could obliterate the finances of a person with the speed of light. 

“Billy would join me for a game,” Derek proclaimed as he settled into his designated seat.

“Billy, we’re delighted to have you here with us,” you uttered, the corners of your mouth rising into a pitiful smile, yet the individual seemed to have construed your gesture as a sign of flirtatious intent as he provided a subtle wink in response.

A palpable aura of awkwardness permeated the atmosphere between you and Derek, his displeasure at the sight of another man attempting to flirt with you becoming evident despite every attempt to mask his emotions on the matter. Regardless of the discomfort of the situation, it was undeniable that you experienced a certain degree of gratification and joy as you had the attention of both men.

“So, shall we begin?” you spoke, skillfully shuffling the deck with precision, as well as showcasing a few unique tricks you had acquired throughout your time spent working at the casino. You felt their eyes taking in every choreographed performance, their minds filled with various ideas and fantasies of what else someone with such masterful hands might also possess the aptitude for.

 As the game began, your eyes were filled with anxiousness as you carefully followed the steps and maneuvers that had taken place in the game of Baccarat. The interior sound of your mind urges Billy to take all the appropriate actions to win, but unfortunately, he falls short in his efforts.

Derek chuckled in mockery. “Maybe next round you can win.” 

Billy groaned in annoyance at Derek’s comment, his attention quickly turning towards you. “Why don’t you play with us?” Billy asked.

“I don’t,” you started to say, but Derek interrupted your response by uttering, “Do as I say and play.” 

The harsh look delivered by the wealthy individual in question prompted a sense of apprehension and caution within you, but you were compelled to oblige the order. 

Despite never playing, you were sure that you had a chance of winning, as you had taken the time to observe numerous matches, making you able to identify and comprehend the various mistakes and errors that tended to occur, as well as what appeared to be successful. However, the extreme bets that Derek was making and Billy’s persistent attempts to one-up them caused you a moderate degree of concern, but you tried to maintain a state of composure. 

✦

When the game came to a close, seeing both men so sure of your failure just for you to end up winning at the end was ecstatic. Now you understand why people loved gambling in the first place. Your smirk quickly fades as you let go of the cards as if holding them down would make you more intoxicated with the high these activities had to offer. 

Derek grunted, a sound oozing with a subtle tinge of frustration as he pulled out his lousy Gucci wallet. “Is cash fine or a check?” He asked slightly annoyed. Billy, on the other hand, looked at the table, his eyes darting back and forward.

“I don’t; I don’t have that type of money.” He stuttered as he looked at you. 

“Mmh,” You leaned closer. “Maybe you could pay in another way.” You teased playfully, indicating your intent to pursue a physical means of compensation. 

 “And suddenly I have no money either. How sad.” Derek said, hiding his wallet, hoping to provide you with a similar recompense as the one you sought from Billy. 

“The expression goes: save a horse, ride a cowboy, not: save a Ferrari, ride a rich man.” You chuckled in response. 

“But wouldn’t both be great to ride?” Derek replied, his expression exuding self-assurance as he took a swig from his beverage.

You quickly looked at Billy, who didn’t seem to mind the offer. You,  on the other hand, were skeptical, but how many people win a game and have the opportunity to be fucked by two attractive guys?

“Alright!” you exhale, a hint of satisfaction coloring your voice as you reach into your pocket and retrieve the keys entrusted to you by the establishment. With a decisive click, you lock the door to the cleaning supply room behind you, effectively sealing off the space from prying eyes. 

When you turned in their direction, you felt their hands roaming against your body. Their fingers traveled the contours of your figure, triggering sensations that surged down the length of your spine, evoking chills and shivers. Billy pulls your head, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual duet. His hands slide beneath your shirt, exploring the warmth of your bare skin, while Derek’s lips trail down your neck, nibbling as he leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

Derek’s hands work swiftly to unfasten the buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your body with every movement. He does this with a sense of urgency as if he cannot get enough of touching you. The sound of fabric rustling fills the air, accompanied by soft moans escaping your lips as their touches become more intimate and bold. 

With Billy’s assistance, you manage to wriggle out of your dress pants, your legs quivering with anticipation as they continue to explore every inch of your exposed skin. Derek moves lower, his lips brushing against your belly button before trailing further south, stopping briefly at the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you, seeking permission with his eyes alone. You nod, unable to resist the intense desire that is building within you. 

With renewed determination, Derek hooks his thumbs under the elastic band and slides them downward. His eyes widen in surprise at what he sees—you’re dripping and ready for him. Without waiting for confirmation, he leans forward, planting a series of open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. Then, his tongue starts to trace slow circles around your sensitive flesh. His actions send waves of euphoria coursing through your body, making you squirm in delight. 

While Derek worships your body, making sure to not leave any part of you without licks and sucks, Billy takes matters into his own hands quite literally. He expertly undoes his belt, wrapping it around your neck and tightening it just enough to heighten your senses without cutting off your airway entirely, adding an edge of danger to this already erotic encounter.

Billy then proceeds to remove his red boxers, revealing his rigid erection pulsating with need. It jumps slightly at the sudden exposure, eager to be touched. He grasps your hand and places it around his twitching cock, guiding your movements as he leans in for a brief, passionate kiss.

“Get your money’s worth,” he whispers against your lips, his smirk widening as he watches you. 

With urgency, you begin to tease the head of Billy’s cock with your thumb, tracing its ridges and veins as if mapping out every inch. Your other hand teases Billy’s shaft rhythmically, setting a pace that pleases both of you. The room fills with the sounds of your whimpers and his groans, a testament to the intense fulfillment coursing through your bodies.

At the same time, Derek’s hunger grows as he feasts on the throbbing between your legs, his skilled tongue and lips working together to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. His light whimpers echo throughout the small space, punctuating the air with his insatiable craving.

“You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught,” Derek warns, concerned about someone hearing their explicit activities. With a swift motion, he yanks the belt tied around your neck, causing you to cry out in surprise and pain. 

Your breath catches in your throat as the sudden pressure cuts off your oxygen flow. When he releases the hold, you gasp heavily.

“You liked that, huh?” he asks with a sinister smirk, reading your flushed cheeks and labored breathing. 

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.” His words carry an underlying threat as if claiming ownership over you. Without waiting for a verbal response, he stands up, towering over you menacingly.

Derek reaches out, grabbing your chin forcefully, tilting your head back so your eyes meet his. “Because you fucking belong to me, remember that.” 

Despite the fear and uncertainty swirling within you, there’s also a strange thrill running through you at his possessiveness, causing you to let out a whine. 

Your weak sound made Derek smirk in amusement. His teeth were barely visible. Then, he resumes to his past attitude. 

“I’m tired of you bitching and moaning.” Derek said, “Get on your knees.” His command is firm, leaving no room for negotiation. You obey without question, kneeling before him and Billy. Their cocks are mere inches from your face, and the lines between reality and fantasy blur even further.

Their presence looms large over you; their virility and masculinity are intoxicating in this dimly lit room. Your mouth waters at the sight of their hardened members, yearning to taste them and to please them in any way possible. 

Both men watch you intently, their eyes filled with expectation and fascination. You can practically see the thought process playing out in their minds: who will you serve first? Who will you satisfy last? 

With a deep, shaky inhale, you lean forward, your lips brushing softly against the tip of Billy’s erect member. Your tongue darts out to taste the salty droplets of pre-cum glistening on its surface, savoring the flavor while your hand wraps firmly around Derek’s shaft, moving up and down with increasing speed, this motion is both a show of submission and a subtle act of rebellion, aiming to push him closer to the edge. 

Derek’s moans increase in volume, his hips bucking involuntarily in response to your aggressive stroke as his eyes roll back. The pain of overstimulation mingles with satisfaction, creating a complex mix of emotions that only adds to the overall experience.

Meanwhile, Billy’s gaze is a mix of awe and hunger, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The contrast between your two lovers couldn’t be more apparent—one nearing orgasm, the other waiting with bated panting for his chance. But Billy isn’t content with waiting; he wants to join in the action too.

Suddenly, he grabs the collar around your neck, tugging it firmly and forcing your mouth wide open to accept his entire length. You struggle to accommodate Billy’s girth, your throat adjusting to the invasion as best it can. Saliva drips from your chin, coating your neck and body as you fight to keep up with his demands.

“You know, for such a professional-looking host, you’re taking it like a fucking slut.” 

You want to answer back at Billy’s words but, the sensation of being mouthful by his engorged member is overwhelming, but you refuse to give up. Determined to please both men, you focus on taking him deeper, and your efforts are rewarded by his low growls of approval. Meanwhile, Derek watches with a mix of jealousy and admiration, pulsating in anticipation as your strokes become sloppier on him. 

“Touch yourself,” Billy commands. Without hesitation, you use your free left hand to explore your own body, mirroring the sensations he experiences.

Your eyes lock with his, reflecting your admiration for this astounding man standing before you, dominating and directing your every move.

Your fingers caress your sensitive skin, discovering the wetness left by Derek’s earlier attentions. You moan around Billy’s shaft, the sensation intensifying as you stroke yourself in sync with your mouth’s movements. 

Billy’s eyes darken with desire, his grip on your ‘collar’ tightening slightly. “That’s it,” he encourages, spurring you on.

“Swallow every fucking drop,” he orders, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Sweat glistens on your brow, and your gasps come in ragged as you redouble your efforts, eager to satisfy him and prove your loyalty while you pleasure yourself and bob your head on Billy’s dick.

Derek watches hungrily, his length pulsating in your hand, as he impatiently awaits his turn. His grip on your hair tightens, demanding your attention. “Please!” he begs, his voice tinted with desperation. “Give it to me!”

Your eyes lock with Derek’s, and with a nod, you move towards him, ready to grant his wish. He quickly guides your mouth towards his member, and you eagerly obey, wrapping your lips around his dick, feeling him twitch in excitement at the first touch of your warm, wet mouth. His scent fills your nostrils, mingling with the musk of sex and sweat, creating an intoxicating blend.

 “Fuck, you’re better than I imagined.” Derek cries out.

Billy watches the exchange as he searches for a condom among the scattered clothing on the floor. Once it’s located, he rolls it onto his shaft, preparing himself for what’s to come. 

Moving behind you, he gently fingers your entrance, seeking silent consent. You pause momentarily, breaking contact with Derek’s length long enough to respond to Billy with a yes. As soon as your sentence ends, Derek responds by thrusting harder, face-fucking you relentlessly. 

Your eyes water and tears stream down your face as his pace increases. In the meantime, Billy positions himself at your entrance. With a single confident thrust, he enters you, filling you up. 

As he begins to thrust in and out of you, matching Derek’s pulls on your head, you lose track of time and space. All that exists is the combined sensation of two cocks inside you, stretching and filling you. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, grunts, and moans drowning the room, creating a primal symphony of desire and satisfaction. 

Your hands grasp Derek’s thighs, your nails digging into them as your body aches. Sweat trickles down your forehead, staining your face, and you don’t care. Nothing matters but the sense of belonging to these two men. 

Derek hisses at the sudden attack from your nails before he speaks. “I know I’m big, but you can take more than that,” Derek growls, forcing more of him into your mouth, attacking your throat mercilessly, while Billy picks up the pace, pounding into you faster and harder. 

His thrusts became more erratic, his hips slamming against your ass with reckless abandon. You cry out, your voice hoarse from the constant stimulation, feeling your body tense up, preparing for your orgasm.

Just as you think you can’t handle it anymore, Billy pulls out suddenly, leaving you panting and empty. Before you can recover, he spits on your entrance, lubricating it again. Then, with one swift motion, he re-enters you, filling you up once more. His size stretches you wider than ever, causing you to scream in both agony and gratification. 

“I love the sounds you make when I'm destroying you," Billy mumbles as he slaps your ass a few times before he speaks again. “So much better than the last person I was with.” 

Derek, sensing your imminent climax, speeds up his pace even more. His thrusts become faster and harder, hitting your uvula. His movements are deliberate, designed to send you spiraling over the edge. Billy, aware of the approaching orgasm, matches Derek’s intensity. Together, they push you to your limits, each thrust bringing you closer to the peak.

The combination of their movements is too much to bear. Your body convulses, shaking uncontrollably as you near the edge. You cry out incoherently, your voice a mix of pleas and curses. Finally, it happens. A wave of pure bliss washes over you, starting from your core and radiating outward. Your muscles clenched around Billy’s cock, which came undone, Derek following right after as you swallowed him entirely. 

For a moment, all three of you remain frozen in time, basking in the afterglow of your shared orgasm. Sweat covers your body, mixing with the evidence of your passions and dedication.

Then, Derek proceeds to pick you up, ensuring you’re okay and still able to walk, as Billy quickly goes to dress up again. 

“Wanna do aftercare?” Derek asks. This is different; this isn’t the usual Derek you’re accustomed to, but there’s something special about him at this moment.

“I’d love to,” you reply, unable to resist his newfound vulnerability. For a brief moment, you both stare at Billy, unsure whether to include the stranger in this intimate moment. But he speaks up, breaking the silence.

“I’m fine; I need to go anyway.” And with that, Billy abandons the room, leaving the two of you alone together.

Now it’s just the two of you, stripped bare emotionally and physically. You look at each other, unsure of how to proceed. Should you clean up? Talk about what happened. Or simply cuddle and rest in each other’s arms? 

“That was weird,” Derek says, slightly confused by Billy’s sudden departure but dismissing it. He’s glad that the two of you are alone now. 

“Get dressed up. We’ll go back to my place, and...” As Derek reaches for his pants, they feel unusually light. You exchange a confused glance, picking up your clothes and finding them similarly lacking.

Realization dawns on you both—your wallets are gone. It seems Billy took advantage of the situation to steal from you when you guys thought he was looking for a condom earlier on. You share a look of disbelief. 

“Fucking Billy,” you mutter.

Hope you guys liked it, it’s my first time writing this sort of thing but I wanted to write something special for having 100+ followers 🫶🏻 Thank you so much for reading my stuff! (If you only want to see my smut writing consider following my side blog @xxxcherryerim where I reblog my work!)

tags: @freak-accident419 (hand in marriage, NOW /j) @joshhutchersonsgf @joshfutturman @jhutchismyl0verb0y @lile6969 @savvyotakuqueen

#derek danforth smut #billy burn smut #derek danforth x gn!reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth #billy burn 2019 #billy burn x gn!reader #billy x reader #billy burn #billy parks #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh futturman #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt x you #josh future man #mike schmidt smut #josh futturman smut #josh futturman x you #mike schmidt x reader #josh futturman x reader #josh futterman x reader #Billy burn x reader x Derek #derek x reader #billy burn x reader #billy burn x you

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #billy burn 2019 #billy burn x you #billy x reader #billy burn #billy josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson billy #josh hutcherson burn #josh hutcherson burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #josh hutcherson imagine #billy burn imagine

[r04dk1llx2]

work in progress,, feeding the Billy community soon,,

nsfw under cut.

He stands between my legs as I practically wrap myself around him, causing him to let out a soft grunt of satisfaction when my thigh brushes his groin. You could see his arousal through those loose fitting swim trunks, and as much as I hate to admit it, that only served to fuel the fire.

He tosses my bikini top somewhere, anywhere, I don’t care. As long as it was off of me.

“god… look at you.. fuckin’ gorgeous..”

His rough palms run up my sides, slowly but steadily working his way up to my chest. Billy was salivating at this point, and in one quick motion, scoots me a little higher up till he can effortlessly latch his lips around one of my nipples. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud, nipping softly just to get a reaction.

“O-ooh— fuck-“ I whine, body jolting into his. He snickers, mumbling quiet “i’m sorry”s before he continues to suck. The way he’s gazing up at me, something about him seemed so vulnerable. Billy had always been one to have this distant and worn out sort of look to him, but now? That was gone, so, so far gone.

He releases my nipple with a lewd pop, panting quietly as he smiles down at me, rolling my other nipple between his fingers.

“You want more, cowgirl?”

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #billy burn #jhutch1992 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson fanfiction #billy burn x you #billy burn 2019 #burn billy x reader #billy burn x reader #billy burn smut #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson smut

[this-aint-massachusetts]

Cute imagine with Billy!

Imagine sitting up on the roof with him as you share a cigarette. He reaches to grab his lighter to light up another one because the one your smoking right now is running out. But he drops it and it slips into the gutter. You offer to go get it for him so you go to do that but you go to far and fall off and snap your neck and die on impact.

#josh hutcherson #billy burn 2019 #billy burn #burn movie 2019 #imagine #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #satire

[cryptidcorners]

so .... i watched burn. and i need some requests immediately you guys im begging

#honestly this movie wasn't THAT bad. 6/10 tbhh. I loved every scene w Billy #That ONE SCENE was so fucking gross and unnecessary ??? I wish Billy shot milenda ffs #the ending pissed me off so bad. I am #1 milenda hater actually #anyway. ... you think he whimpers? #Billy burn #billy burn x reader #Billy burn x you #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #Burn #Burn 2019 #He was mad cunty in this movie. Love him #Fuck milenda though I hope she explodes <3333

[lefteagleblizzard]

I’ve always have been a fan of masks

Billy burn x gender neutral reader

There has been lately a Billy fever on tumblr and I’ll take the opportunity to post this little though that came to my mind a week ago ｡^‿^｡ Thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my Derek danforth fic, I really appreciate it.

Summary: Billy has taken his revenge on Melinda and escaped safely the gas station before it could explode, but he wasn’t expecting the police to be there shortly after the explosion. Now behind the bars of a police station all he can do is hope for your help. Because, you will help him, right?

Warnings: gender neutral reader (let me know if I missed something). English is not my first language so apologies for bad grammar. Reader and Billy are engaged. Make out. Angst with happy ending. Pretending to argue. Badass reader

Words count: 1621 words

The room of the police station was cold and neon-lit. With your eyes swollen from crying, you sat in front of the policeman. His heart sank as he tried to find the right words.

“You were the only person he said he wanted to be here. He has been arrested for attempted robbery at a gas station. What’s your relationship with the criminal?”

“He's my husband. They arrested him for attempted robbery? I can't believe it.”

“Calm down, please. This is the first time that he has been arrested?”

“No” you sobbed with a tissue covering your mouth. “He promised me that it would have been the last time he would do something illegal”

The deputy took notes, his face serious.

“What exactly happened? How was he involved? Did he hurt someone?”

“We are still investigating the matter, your husband still hasn’t talked to me and all we have is just a gas station completely on fire and two carbonized corpses. We will do everything we can to find out the truth.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that kept spilling from your eyes.

The deputy passed a hand over his shapid beard. He had seen so many similar stories, young lives destroyed by drugs and crime. But you looked different. Your eyes were full of innocence and hope, and his pale face was marked with sadness.

“I understand it’s hard to accept,” He said. “But we have to do our job. Billy will be tried and will have a chance to defend himself. In the meantime, we will try to find out if there are other people involved.”

You stood up, your legs wobbly. “Can I see him? Can I talk to him?”

The deputy nodded. “Yes, of course. He is in the detention cell. Don’t stand too close to the bars.” Was all he said before going back to his computer.

Deputy Colone is hunched over his desk, doing what he hates most, filling out reports. All his colleagues out while he was forced to stay here to fill out paperwork. He glances up at Billy, then over at you. Satisfied, he returns to his shitwork.

Seated across the room, you appears to be idly sketching something on a large pad present on the desk.

Billy sits on his jail’s cot, head in hands, hopeless.

He waves for your attention.

You looks up at the deputy, still writing on the desk, then over at Billy.

“You’re not gonna pay the bail?” He whispered with a hint of impatience, his right leg bouncing up and down as he kept stealing glances at the deputy.

“So you can do another impulsive act and get caught again?”

The little control he has over his anger is already running out.

Billy gets up off his cot, pacing back and forth inside the small cage stressed over your behavior. He eyes the deputy, then you. You flips a page over, and starts to really write.

“What are ya drawin’?”

The deputy looks up, irritated by the noise and by how he kept treating you.

Billy grabs the cell bars and lean against them.

“Hey, pipe down, cowboy”

“I was just curious about what they were drawing”

You holds it up for Billy to see.

“There. Happy now?”

You throws the sketch pad at him, crossing your arms while looking down at the floor. It bounces off the bars.

He reaches down, grabs it, and pulls it into his cell.

You stands up defiantly as he read everything. Wrath more and more visible all over his face.

“Okay, give it back to me” you extended your hand impatiently.

“Why you wanna sell your engagement ring?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Simple, I can’t stand you anymore! This is the umpteenth time you do things behind my back and make trouble. This time it was for an attempted robbery. And you know what? I’m so done with your bullshit”

“So you just wanna leave everything behind you? Sell the wedding ring?”

“Why do you even give that much importance to it? Billy, it’s just a piece of metal with a diamond that you stole! I don’t want to be associated with all of this anymore!”

He squeezed his fists, trying not to completely explode with anger, refusing to speak with you.

You stood up from your seat and approached him, taking the shining and beautiful ring he choose only for you. “And what does it represent now? A man who can’t keep himself out of trouble? I don’t want to be tied to you this way anymore. When there’s always a chance that I could find you dead because you messed with the wrong people in search of money. I want to sell that faith and use the money to start over”

“Okay fine. Do as you fucking wish” he took the piece of metal around his own finger. “Come and get it, so I won’t see your face ever again.” His raised a fist and crashed it agaist the bar. “But remember that it’s not just a piece of metal. It’s a fucking symbol of what we were and what we could be, but you’re too much of a fucking idiot to realize that” It’s a cry of anger the one he unleashed, lacerating and wild, hovering in the air, like a swooping hawk.

The deputy is really getting pissed at the constant shouting.

“Bastard, if you don’t stop yellin-“ he stood up from his seat.

You were already in front of the cell. you reaches through the bars for the ring.

“Finally you made a good decision in your life. Give it to me, idiot”

He grabs your arm, pulls you to the bars, and starts kissing you passionately. The more you struggles, the tighter he envelops you.

Your eyes close, and your lips never separate. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and the world around you two fades. You gets lost in Billy’s kisses, and your heart beats hard in your chest. It’s like time stands still, and all that matters is that connection between the two of you. Your lips only separate for a moment to catch a quick breath, only to come back together with even more desire.

The deputy races across the room. Awkwardly, he grapples to separate you two. He rudely detach Billy’s hand from your waist before shoving him away.

Your hand secretly reaches down and pulls the gun from the deputy’s holster.

As he turns to face you, a red laser dot appears on the tip of his nose.

He is shocked.

“Let him out of there.”

You point the laser-scoped revolver right at him. You definitely means business. All the innocence that you previously had now vanished, replaced by a smirk he saw on many criminals’ faces.

The suddenness of the betrayal hits like a physical blow.

Even the most beautiful roses have thorns.

Bully chuckles in disbelief from behind him.

“Hey, don’t clown around with th-“ the deputy tries to take back control of the situation but the click of the security being removed silenced him. Fear grips his chest.

You did just as your lovely husband has taught you, and kept holding the gun dead-steady.

“I ain’t the one with the funny red nose. Now open the cell and exchange places with him” .you put your finger on the trigger. “Now”

Billy had a huge grin of satisfaction on his face, enjoying this too deeply

that’s my good boy

“Better do as they says, ‘cause wherever the red dot goes, a bullet is sure to follow.”

The deputy reluctantly removes his keys and turns toward Billy.

The rusty door opens, creaking loudly as it is set to 90 degrees, enough to allow Billy out. A cocky grin on his face as he steps outside and shoved the useless deputy inside but not before confiscating his radio.

You lowered the gun and went back towards the office to delete all the files that the deputy has written about the arrest of your husband, the computer still open. You tore apart the reports and heard the satisfying sound of paper behind disintegrate and deleted all the recording made by the cameras in the last 24 hours.

A small yell of surprise came from your lips as you were lifted from the ground and landed on the desk in front of you, the culprit had already his arms around you and 2 new guns on both of his sides as he stared lustily at you mouth.

“You never stop surprising me” your foreheads were touching and you felt his warm breath on your face.

“I’ve always been a fan of masks” You replied breathlessly, caressing the side of his cheek and feeling the pungent feeling of his stubble under your touch.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Billy leaned in close, lips brushing together. His lips mashed against yours, as if trying to flatten and destroy your mouth. You hungrily pushed back, your mouth open, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The bristles of his stubble scratched against your cheeks. He worked his mouth against yours, your tongues battling back and forth like wrestlers, each trying to pin the other.

“Quick now. Let’s run away in another state” you lightly pushed him away, ignoring his small whine as you jumped back on your feet and went towards the exit of this stupid police office.

He checked you out with a smirk as he followed behind you, a plan of how he could show his gratitude to you already in his mind.

Note: hope you liked this as much as I had fun writing everything <3

#gender neutral reader #x male reader #male reader #derek danforth smut #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #billy burn #burn 2019 #billy burn x reader #burn movie #billy burn x gn!reader #billy burn x you #Derek danforth #x gn reader #gn reader #Billy burn x male reader

[g0ry0re0]

"Tear In My Heart", Billy (Burn, 2019, Directed by Mike Gan) - Imagine

Description: AU where Billy survives the film's events and is on the run with you, basically just one big cross-country road trip. You can't sleep. / Billy x GN!Reader

General Notes: Gender Neutral Reader (no use of Y/N), Second Person POV, Alludes To Insomnia (reader), Food Mention (reader eats), Very Light Cursing (three words), Focus On Sounds (orange), Smoking Cigarettes (billy), Pure Fluff, Very Bried References To The Film (scars)

Author's Note: I'm finally back! This is just like a one-shot for this AU if anything. It's clearly inspired by Tear In My Heart by Twenty One Pilots, lol. Living out my 2016 teenage fantasies with this one, lmao. Thanks to @hazeldastar for helping proofread this (if anything is wrong, it's her fault 💜). Anyway, enjoy!

Word Count: 1,489

You fell asleep in my car, I drove the whole time / But that's okay, I'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine / I'm driving here I sit, cursing my government / For not using my taxes to fill holes with more cement

Car horn. Snoring. A/C unit.

Roll over.

Footsteps. Muffled talking. Breathing.

Open your eyes.

He shifts. Bed springs. More snoring.

This isn't working.

You sit up with a sigh and look over at your sleeping companion. How is he able to sleep so soundly no matter where he is? You swear he snores louder every minute he's asleep, and he barely moves throughout the night. You take a glimpse at the healed burn on the side of his face, feeling remorse. You ghost the tips of your fingers over his burn tenderly, mostly for your own comfort. You stare at him, almost in awe, as he lays on his back, his left arm stretched out behind you, sleeping so contently. Jealousy briefly flashes in your mind before tiredness takes over again.

Stomach rumbling.

How long has it been since you've eaten? You glance at Billy one last time before carefully standing up, hoping that the cheap mattress doesn't give you away. You recoil when he shifts again, turning to lay on his side before his snoring starts back up. Breathing a sigh of relief, you walk over to the desk on the other side of the cramped motel room. Navigating through a mostly dark room, minimal moonlight shining through the sheer curtains, you try not to make too much noise. You shuffle through your snack bin before landing on a bag of chips.

You look back at him, so peaceful, tranquil. He'd been driving all day, there's no way you could wake him up right now. Softly, the padding of your feet can be heard on the scratchy, poor-quality carpet as you head toward the adjacent room; tiny as it was, the bathroom, the best option for you right now. You gently close the door before turning on the flickering light, illuminating the compact space. You sigh and rub your eyes before sitting on the cold tile floor, squeezing in between the sink and the shoddy shower. Rubbing your eyes again, you pray that filling up on carbs will lull you into a short slumber before you both have to pack up and ditch town in the morning.

You sit there, uncomfortably, for a few minutes. Taking your time, snacking on your bag of chips before your return to bed where you will inevitably toss and turn until the sun rises once again. This road trip was starting to take a toll on your body.

Crunch.

You'd swear that these were the loudest chips on the planet. It's like they were trying to sabotage you. As if on cue, you could hear the heavy footsteps of your partner heading towards the bathroom door now. You flinch and brace for the knock on the door.

Knocking.

"Hey, darlin', you alright in there?" He asks, voice raspy.

"Yeah," you start to whisper, not really sure why at this point. "I didn't wanna wake you."

He laughs.

"Well, the lack of your presence woke me up anyway." He remarks playfully. "Come back to bed, love."

You crumble up your bag of chips and toss them before standing up. A few of your joints crack from unraveling the awkward position. You open the door to see your heavily disheveled boyfriend standing in front of you, the ghost of a smirk on his face. You feel as though you look a lot worse for wear than he does. Disheveled always looked good on him anyway.

"I can't sleep." You admit, shoulders slumped, feeling defeated and a bit childish.

"Yeah?" He cocks his head to the side.

"Yeah. Sleep is for the weak anyway, right?"

"Right." Billy's smirk grows wider.

"Right." You agree, your shoulders straightening before slumping again.

"But I... I am so very, very weak." You look down as you say this, the exhaustion catching up to you.

Billy hums and rests his hands on your shoulders. You both stand in silence for a few moments, contemplating and reveling in the scene's serenity. You could feel the true fatigue weighing down your entire being, not having slept for the past few weeks. It felt as though it were affecting you in all aspects of your life: physically, emotionally, spiritually. Billy's always been able to read you well, and he can sense the unease in you. He starts to rub the sides of your arms lightly, head still cocked to the side and ducking down, trying to make eye contact with you. He's smiling softly now, no longer feeling as playful, just wanting to help you feel better.

You sigh and wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face into his neck, basking in the warmth radiating from his body. You didn't want to look him in the eyes right now. He quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into him further and taking in your scent. Both of you stay like this for a couple of minutes, content with the sickly sweet feeling of the instance, yet still feeling the restlessness of the lack of sleep.

He starts to sway gently with you in his arms, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear to ease your growing anxiety. Both enjoying the comfort of the moment and the tenderness. After a few moments, Billy pulls away slightly and raises a hand to your chin, lifting your head to finally look at him. He rubs his thumb along your skin lightly.

"Wanna go for a drive?"

The nighttime air was warm, Summer making itself known. There was no need for either of you to wear a jacket as you climbed into Billy's car, parked right in front of your motel room door. Not many other cars were in the run-down motel parking lot.

Cicadas buzzing.

Your lover rolls down the windows of the car before pulling out onto the road. With no destination in mind: you set out. Deep down, Billy knows you both don't have much to spare for gas money, but he figures he can scrounge for change this time around. You tiredly gaze out the window at the passing trees, the quaint houses, and the small businesses. You truly loved driving through these small towns, especially when the residents were kind. Stopping by the local bars was always yours and Billy's favorite thing to do. Billy glances at you in your relaxed state and turns on the radio, quietly. He grabs your hand and smiles at you before looking back at the road. You return the smile, wearily, before looking out the open window once again.

After a while, you can finally feel your eyes drooping, not sure whether or not to fight it off this time. You end up losing the battle and knock out cold. Billy can only vaguely hear your light snores over the music playing and the air flowing through the windows. He smiles fondly and slows the car down a bit, attempting to make the whipping of the wind throughout the car more gentle as well as the ride itself.

Thunk.

He cringes and looks over at you, still sleeping but turned over to face him now. These damn country roads. He figured you must really be in a deep sleep if that didn't wake you up. He turns on the brights to illuminate the road; he'd do anything to avoid the goddamn potholes right now. Of all the times you drive together, they have to make an appearance now.

Thunk.

Son of a bitch. He glances over at you once again, still passed out cold in the passenger's seat. He begins to feel a twinge of guilt, you haven't slept properly in days. He squeezes your hand and looks back at the road, driving more carefully this time. He lightly presses his foot on the brakes, going even slower than before. It's not like there was anyone else on the road at this hour anyway.

Billy reluctantly lets go of your hand and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Pulling out a single stick, he places it in between his lips before lighting it. He pockets the rest of the pack and his lighter before he peeks at you again. You finally look as peaceful as he did earlier that night. He takes a puff of the cigarette as he lightly swerves to avoid another pothole. What was the point in paying taxes if the government wasn't even gonna use it for the important stuff?

He could see the motel in the distance now, as he had already made his way around the tiny town in a short amount of time. Billy glimpses at you for the nth time that night. He really doesn't want to wake you up. He doesn't think he has the heart to anyway. He sighs before making an abrupt turn, circling his way around the town again. Maybe he'll just drive for a little bit longer.

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Screenshot: me :)

#billy burn #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #x reader #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 x reader #billy x gn!reader #billy burn x gn!reader #billy burn x gender neutral reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #x you #billy burn x you #billy burn 2019 imagine #billy burn imagine #imagine #katykat235 #g0ry0re0 #au

[stop-talking]

Holy shit THREE of my mutuals have posted Billy fics today and I'm working on some smut for him right now... so Billy fans must be having a field day !!!

(Hopefully I can finish it by tonight I'm trying 🙏🙏)

#billy burn #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #billy burn x reader #billy burn x you

[joshhutchersonsgf]

I NEED MIKE SCHMIDT TO DEGRADE ME (a smut)

nsfw | mdni | gn!reader | dom!mike (omg?) | porn with little plot | unprotected sex | choking | degradation | lotssss of dirty talk | pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) | no use of y/n

mike’s new job was simple. he only has to worry about two things. all he has to do was keep the place tidy and keep people out.

he hated himself for losing his old job as a security gaurd at the mall because, despite not enjoying have to be in a loud, public space all the time, he grew fond of the people there.

he liked jeremiah. he didn’t get on his nerves the way most people do. talking to him kept him from getting lost in his thoughts, which he liked.

he also grew fond of cindy, the girl who works at the ice cream shop. sand he didn’t want to think of telling any she wouldn’t be able to get ice cream that much anymore, if at all.

mike sighs as he realizes he was trapped in his thoughts again. his mind was something that always kept him entertained for hours, but it also left a lingering pain in his chest when he thinks about what he could have done differently.

mike opens the door of his old, rusty car and stares at the pizzeria across the parking lot. this dump used to be a place for kids to hang out? mike wonders what the old building looked like before it shut down. he imagines he and garrett would have went there when they were kids, or maybe if it was still open to this day, he would have taken abby. he smiles at the thought of abby enjoying the arcade.

mike walks up to the double doors and glances around. he quickly found the security pad and types in the numbers raglan had told him.

a loud click came from the door when he clicks the green button on the security pad. he steps to his left and grabs one of the hands on the metal door, pulling it open.

the door creaks loudly as mike opens the door. he wishes more than anything he could turn around and get in his car, go home and forget any of this ever happened. but deep down he knew he had to do this for abby.

mike steps inside the mostly-unoccupied place and frowns. the room smells stale, and he can practically see the dust in the air. it was a creepy place, and mike wonders what the point is of watching a place no one has been inside in over 20 years.

mike didn’t see a point to a security job here, but he was thankful raglan was kind enough to give him the job. he didn’t like the man, but he was thankful he saw enough potential in him.

mike hears a loud slam from behind him and almost jumps out of his black sneakers.

“what the hell?” mike whisper-shouts, completely caught off gaurd.

mike turns around to see the door he left open now shut. must be an automatic door, mike thinks. he feels silly for getting so scared.

mike looks up at the posters on the walls, torn and scratched along the thin paper. the words read out “freddy fazbear’s pizzeria” at the top.

mike crosses the lobby and looks down the hallway in front of him. the hallway walls are painted in the same red-and-white stripes mike had seen in the lobby. they are also lined with large posters.

these posters, however, weren't pizzeria advertisements. they look like children’s art, similar to abby’s. some of the posters have images of pizzas and playing children. the rest of the posters feature portraits of odd-looking cartoon animals. one of the images was of a brown bear wearing a bow tie and a top hat. there was a bright yellow chick wearing a bib and holding a googly-eyed cupcake, a bluish-purple bunny gripping an electric guitar, and a fox wearing an eye patch and a hook on his hand.

“i should probably just find the office”, mike whispers to himself after examining the drawings. mike speed walks through the hallway and briefly looks around the main area, studying the purple curtained stage. he assumes that’s where people in costumes would perform, and he doesn’t dwell on the thought any longer.

mike continues through the eery building until he reaches a door he assumes leads to the office. mike sighs in relief as he lays his hands on the metal doorknob, thankful he was able to find it with ease.

mike turns the handle and pushes the door open, heart beating in his chest. the door creaks, much like the front door to the building, and he tenses up more than usual.

the office was dark, only dimly lit by a red bulb above a large breaker box. his senses are overwhelmed with the smell of sweat and blood.

mike’s nose twitches as he looks around the small office space. he decides he might as well get used to the smell and familiarize himself with the space, since he was going to be spending a lot of time in it.

the office was pretty vacant for the most part. it contains a long, narrow metal desk, which sat in front of a matching credenza. a small black fan and a landline phone next to an answering machine sat on it, as well as an old tv sitting on top of an equally old vcr, a desktop computer, and several cctv monitors, stacked on a rack at the back edge of the desk. two gray metal filing cabinets were pushed against the wall opposite the desk.

mike tries to ignore the feeling of anxiety that doesn’t seem to move from his stomach while he studies the room. he doesn’t like the long claw marks on the floor, they made him feel no better than the smell.

mike sighs and sits down in the old office chair, not surprised by it’s discomfort. he looks at the vhs tape in front of him titled “mike” and cocks an eyebrow.

it was going to be a long night, he thought to himself.

♡•♡•♡

the first hour of the night was pretty boring. occasionally, mike would flip through the cameras and scan the place, but for the most part, he just stayed in the office and watched the cameras.

mike glances at the clock on the wall in front of him and frowns.

“1:38” the clock reads.

“four more hours of this bullshit” mike groans, flipping through the cameras once more.

something caught his eye this time, though. in the main room, there was something moving under the tables. mike’s eyes almost pop out of his head when he notices.

mike brings his face closer to the computer and squints his eyes. as if the thing was mocking him, the movement stops.

“what the hell?” mike whispers, fully accepting he will be subconsciously talking to himself to fill the emptiness of the air.

mike gets up from the chair slowly and contemplates if he should find out what it is.

it’s probably nothing, mike thinks, but the thought that it could be something there, waiting to attack him, was keeping him still. mike feels silly for freaking himself out with children’s fantasies.

reluctantly, he grabs the flashlight and turns the knob on the door. when he steps into the hallway, the atmosphere seems to have shifted since an hour earlier, as now the earlier unoccupied area felt like someone is watching him.

mike grips the flashlight tightly and turns it on, surprised it works as well as it does. he slowly steps out of the hallway and into the main room, examining every detail of the disheveled place.

he checks under every table and finds nothing, relieved that nothing is there to get him. he continues searching though, making sure nothing is hiding.

he hears shuffling from behind him and practically jumps out of his skin. he spins around and flashes the light in the direction of the noise, seeing a figure scurry behind a trash bin.

mike‘s entire body is screaming at him to run out the front door and drive away, but of course, his curiosity got the best of him.

mike takes a small step forward and grips the flashlight tightly, a thin sheen of sweat covering his palm. he takes a few steps forward until he is only a few feet away from the trash bin and lets out a shaky breath.

“hello?” mike blurts out subconsciously. he slaps a hand over his mouth and fights his body’s urge to run. the thing shifts slightly, and mike hears some rustling.

if it is a killer, mike thinks to himself, now they know where i am.

he decides that he should just try to see what it is and hope it’s not someone (or something) trying to kill him.

mike creeps up to the trash can and pushes it to the side quickly, then jumping back before anything can attack him. instead, he’s met with the silhouette of a person with dark clothes on.

mikes eyebrows furrow at the sight in front of him, and he rubs his eyes quickly to make sure he’s not hallucinating. behind the trash can, you sit crouched over with your arms over your face, hand covering your mouth.

you wish more than anything that you could make a run for it, but you knew you wouldn’t get very far, considering you’ve already been running only moments earlier. so instead, you try to stay as still as possible, hand over your mouth, hoping that the security gaurd will mistake you for a shadow.

“i’m not stupid, you know,” a hoarse voice addresses you, “i can see you.

you tense up and try to think of any possible way to get out of here, despite the guard being three feet away from you. you move your hand away from your mouth and you chew at your bottom lip, taking a deep breath through your nose.

you finally accept defeat and lift your head up slowly. your open your eyes to be blinded by a bright light in your face and you cover your eyes in agony.

“can you get that shit out of my face, please?” you ask sarcastically, standing up and rubbing your eyes.

the security guard takes the light and points it at the ground, careful not to blind you.

“who the fuck are you and why are you here?” the man curses.

you take your hands away from your face and let your eyes adjust to the new light, examining the man in front of you.

you expect to see a gross old man, but instead you’re met with an attractive, young looking guy. you assume he’s in his late twenties, considering he still has childish features. his messy hair falls against his forehead and curls at the ends. his eyebrows form a crease against his forehead due to his eyebrows being pushed together in annoyance. if it weren’t for the circumstances you were in, you would have thought he was cute.

the man seems to be wondering what your next move is, because his big brown eyes won’t leave yours. you frown when you realize there’s no way to get out of this.

“i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you mutter, “this place is a dump.”

“tell me about it,” the man breathes out, “but that doesn’t explain why you’re here, does it?”

you try to think of any way you could lie your way out of this, but your mind draws a blank. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, deep in thought. you wish more than anything you could just crawl in a corner and die.

“i was trying to hide from the cops..” you whisper, looking at the ground.

“what?” the man questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“i was trying to hide from the cops.” you repeat, avoiding his gaze.

you look back up at the man to see him staring at you with an annoyed expression, tongue pressed against his cheek.

“what the hell did you do?” the man asks.

“please don’t call the police,” you plead and stand up while moving back against the wall, away from the man.

“why?” he questions and steps closer to you, “scared i’m going to do what i get paid to do?”

you frown when you hear his question, slowly regretting every decision you’ve ever made.

“look, im sorry okay..” you breathe out, looking at the floor, “i just really needed some money.”

the man does nothing. you look back up to see him already staring at you, face contorted into what you assume is anger. it’s hard to see him very well in the dark, but you see the man opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“are you going to tell the police?” you ask, scared you made the wrong decision of telling him the truth.

the guards eyebrows unfurrow for a moment, and you think he’ll actually let you go. then, he gives you the same expression he gave you earlier, only worse.

“you think i wanted this job?” he asks.

“huh?” you blurt out, his question completely catching you off guard.

“do you think i wanted this job?” he says again, looking around the dark room.

you follow his gaze and take a good look around the place as he shines the flashlight around the room. you didn’t even think to look at where you were going when you came inside, the only thing on your mind was not being found. suddenly, you feel a weird feeling in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“no..” you whisper, staring at the half opened curtain on the stage.

“exactly,” the guard spits, “but i need money.”

a feeling of shame sits in the pit of your stomach when the guard speaks, and you wanted to cry. you look back to the man again and frown, wishing he would show you some sympathy.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, tears swelling at the brink of your eyelids.

you feel so ashamed right now, standing against the wall while a guard questions you while your eyes are moments away from spilling tears.

“sorry?” the man scoffs and grabs your arm, “sorry you got caught?”

you gasp and try to pull your arm away, but he only grips your skin tighter. he pulls you away from the wall and drags you through the room, despite you trying to break free from his grasp.

“what are you doing?” you cry out, following behind him while he holds you tightly.

the man doesn’t answer, instead pulling you through the hallway until you’re both standing face infront of a large, metal door.

“shit like this makes my job a whole lot harder,” the man groans, pushing open the door. a loud creak echoes through the hallway.

you examine the room through blurry vision. the office was pretty empty for the most part, besides the filing cabinets and desk with computers on them. you try to look for any way to escape before the police arrive. you look for a window, but all you see is a small vent across the room.

“why did you bring me here?” you ask the guard, fully expecting him to dial 911 on the phone that sits on the desk.

“well, i figured that if you don’t want me to call the police like i’m supposed to,” the man starts, letting go of your arm, “i’m sure you could just do my job for me?”

you furrow your eyebrows and frown at the man. you look back to the desk that sits at the end of the room and sigh. on the desk, you see a vhs tape that has “mike” scribbled on the side of it. you figure that is the man’s name. it fits him, you think.

“you want me to sit here and watch the security cameras?”

“that’s what i said, right?” the guard you assume is named mike mocks.

the way he was talking to you made you feel stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel turned on. you felt so ashamed for feeling the way you do about the security guard.

you stare blankly at mike while he awaits your answer that never comes as your mind rushes with thoughts of him doing all kinds of things to you. you felt like a horny teenager all over again.

“i asked you a question.” mike spits, getting obviously more annoyed with you, “what, you can’t think straight?”

you shake your head aggressively and frown, “i’m sorry, i’ll do it.”

mike smirks and grips your arm once more. he pulls you over to the chair but before you can sit down, he stops.

“what are you doing?” he asks, acting completely oblivious.

“um.. i was about to sit down?” you retort.

“aw, but,” he cocks an eyebrow, “this is my seat.”

“where am i supposed to sit?” you ask, confused.

mike sits down on the chair and pulls you by your arm until you’re right in front of him.

“why don’t you sit right here, hm?” he proposes, signaling your gaze to his lap.

you practically choke on your own spit at his words. did this hot man seriously just ask you to sit on his lap?

“what?” you sputter out, thinking you just heard him wrong.

mike smirks at you and pulls at your arm slightly, making you sit on his lap.

“how about this?” mike whispers against the shell of your ear.

oh. my. god. you weren’t sure if you were in heaven or hell. while you thought it was amazing that the hot security guard asked you to sit on his lap, you were also terrified of making any wrong move, incase he decided he was going to call the police.

you aren’t sure where to put your shaking hands, so you just decide to let them rest on your legs. you shift your body against his lap a few times, trying to get comfortable.

“jesus,” mike moans, “are you that fucking desperate?”

“what?” you ask, and your eyebrows furrow when you feel something hard against your ass. assuming it’s just the flashlight, you reach back to grab it from mike’s pocket. but when he throws his head back and lets out a moan, your hand quickly moves away and claps over your mouth.

“oh my god,” you mutter against your hand, barely audible. “i am.. so sorry.”

mike laughs and the sound sends a chill down your spine, “i’m not stupid, you know?”

before you can say anything, all the words you wanted to say fell from your tongue as mike runs his hands down your body. he lets his hands settle on your waist and you try not to scream. you felt so turned on that you thought you could explode. you try to focus on the cameras like you’re supposed to, but your mind kept running with thoughts of the man who’s lap you’re sitting on. his hard on pressing against the curve of your ass doesn’t make the situation any better, and you wish he could just fuck you already.

you subconsciously grind your hips down against mike’s, swallowing back a moan when he grunts in your ear, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

you grind your hips down again as an answer and turn back to him, smiling. you find him already staring at you with eyes filled of lust and need, and for a moment, you feel scared. you felt so vulnerable with him, despite only not knowing him for long.

mike pushes you up off of his lap and stands up, pushing his bulge against your ass. your hips are pushed against the desk harshly and you were sure there would be bruises the next morning, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t focus on anything but how much you love the way he is manhandling you right now.

mike brings his head to the side of your neck and kisses harshly, leaving red marks that are soon to turn purple as the night goes on. you moan out when he finds your sweet spot against your collarbone and you rut your hips back against his harshly, begging for friction.

“god,” mike groans against your skin, pulling at your pants, “need to get this shit off of you.”

as mike slowly pulls your pants down, you throw your back in ecstasy.

“please..” you whine, desperate to have his dick inside of you.

“huh? please what?” mike’s hoarse voice whispers, dragging his tongue along your neck.

“please fuck me already.” you cry out, reaching your hands behind your back to grip his jeans and pull them.

“fuckkkk..” mike groans when your hand grazes over his bulge.

mike replaces your hands with his own and pulls his pants down to his thighs, his dick uncomfortably straining in his boxers. mike hooks his fingers on your underwear and pulls them down to your ankles, now with your pants. you step out of your clothes and kick them to the side, discarding them in the corner of the room.

mike tugs at the ends of your shirt to let you know he wants it off, and as quickly as you raise your hands up, he pulls it over your head and latches his lips on yours. it’s kind of hard to kiss him due to your position in front of him, but you have no reason to complain.

his kisses are vulnerable and animalistic, and you have a hard time keeping up. he forces his tongue inside of your mouth and groans when his tongue touches yours, swirling his around your mouth.

the kiss is desperate, how his tongue tangles with yours. it’s filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of lust you both feel for each other.

you know how badly he wants to fuck you. you can tell by the way his mouth is on yours. you pull away from his lips and look at him, examining his beautiful appearance. his impatience is clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling up and down your body as his free hand pulls his boxers down to let his cock free. it springs about against his stomach and he gasps at the feeling of the cool air in the room hitting it.

you crane your neck back to see the tip of his dick leaking with precum and you gasp. he is big. a feeling of anxiety mixed with excitement suddenly washes over you when you see his dick.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart? scared it won’t fit?” he smirks, voice lingering with a sarcastic tone.

you whine at his condescending words and reach your hand back to jerk him off, but he stops you. he clicks his tongue and pursues his lips, then whispers, “just watch the cameras, yeah? i can do all the work.”

you frown when you remember the whole reason he brought you in here was to do his job, but if it meant he would finally fuck you, you really didn’t mind. you turn your head back to the cameras and sigh, doing your best to make mike happy.

when you feel the tip of mike’s cock against your hole, you clap a hand over your mouth and moan against your palm.

“you don’t— have to be quiet,” he grunts, slowly pushing his tip into you, “it’s just us here.”

you take your hand away from your mouth and moan loudly, bracing your hands against the end of the desk for stability.

“so.. fucking tight.” mike moans against your ear.

you whine loudly at the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching you out, despite only the tip being in. your mouth falls open in a silence cry as he pushes into you slowly, trying not to hurt you.

“you can take it,” he murmurs, “you can take all of it.”

his cock stretches your tight walls, filling every inch of you up with his thickness. his calloused hands grip your hips tightly, and his fingernails leave crescent moon shaped marks on your skin.

he gives you a moment to adjust to his size, but when you clench around him, he continues moving until he’s all the way inside.

“holy shit..” you gasp, feeling so full and stuffed with his cock inside of you.

nothing comes out of you but incoherent blabbering when he pushes his cock as deep as it will go, and mike stares at you in complete awe.

“shh.. it’s okay.” mike coos against your ear, "just keep your eyes on the cameras. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

you nod your head aggressively and stare at the computers through hooded eyes that threaten to squeeze shut. you writhe against him, tears already falling and staining your cheeks as your legs tremble.

your hole grips mike perfectly, feeling every vein and sucking every last drop of pre cum out of him. after letting you adjust for a while, he starts a slow, steady pace. the feeling of his thick cock moving out of you slowly makes you burn with desire.

mike pulls his dick all the way out of you, leaving you empty and vulnerable. you turn around and whine, but the whine quickly turns into a high pitched moan when he pushes himself back inside of you. you felt like you were being split in half by his thickness.

he pulls out of you completely then pushes himself back in slowly a few more times before starting a steady pace. your legs shake as you grip the desk tightly, trying to stabilize yourself.

“already fucked out?” mike utters, thrusting his cock deeper into you. he lets go of your hip with one hand and firmly wraps his arm around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

the raspiness in mike’s voice sent pleasure coursing through your entire body, making you lose yourself in the moment.

noticing that your head is dropping a bit, mike uses his other hand to hold your head up to the screens. mike takes a moment to study your features, lit up by the light of the many monitors.

the room fills with the sounds of your moans and cries, along with mikes soft groans he occasionally let slip. the sound of skin slapping against skin causes your mouth to fall open in a choked sob as his dick continues to abuse the spongy spot inside of you.

mike presses his face into the crook of your neck and bites softly at the marked skin, admiring the work he left earlier. he leans in and kisses the corner of your chewed lips before whispering, "you feel—shit, you feel so fucking good."

you let out a strangled noise at his words, blabbering on about how you want his cum deep inside of you.

“yeah? wanna be stuffed full of my cum, hm?” mike purrs against your lips, bringing his hand down to wipe the tears that stain your cheeks.

you clench around him and moan loudly, rutting your hips back against his while trying to match his rhythm. a feeling of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through you when he begins to thrust into you at a brutal pace, and your legs tremble harshly.

“fuckkk..” mike grunts, “use your words, sweetheart.”

you open your mouth and try to speak, but the only thing that falls from your lips is whimpers and whines as he continues to pump himself into you.

“what’s that?” mike taunts, “i can’t hear you.”

you didn’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking. the way his words linger in the air with a condescending tone makes you feel stupid. you weren’t sure if he was trying to make you feel dumb on purpose, but you would never admit that it only made you more turned on.

“please!” you cry out, eyes rolling back into your head. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on the sensitive skin there.

mike moans and continues to pound into you, making sure you are watching the screens closely. mike curses under his breath, tightening his grip on you as he fucks into your tight hole.

“jesus— fuck..” you choke out through moans, “i’m gonna cum..”

mike slams his thickness into you harshly, making sure your hole remembers every last detail of his cock.

“yeah? what— fuck, what makes you think you deserve to cum?” mike asks, cutting himself off with a moan.

“please let me cum!” you sob, entire body shaking for your release.

your hole constricts around his cock as you cry out, legs quivering as the knot in your stomach threatens to snap at any moment.

“god, you’re such a fucking whore,” mike keens, “getting fucked.. shit, by a guy you barely know in a security office? it’s— mhmm.. its pathetic.”

mike pulls away from your neck and looks down, admiring the way your hole swallows his thickness. he almost cums immediately when he sees the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.

“mmmnf, please.. please let me cum—!” you moan, squeezing tightly around his cock. the sound of you begging causes his dick to twitch inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you perfectly. you arch your back against him, swallowing every inch of his cock with your hole.

mike fucks into you relentlessly, spurred on by the sounds of gorgeous moans falling from your lips. he’s eager to feel how hard you finish around him, and just the thought has him biting back moans.

“want you to make a mess for me, baby.” he rasps out, his voice beginning to break and waver as he climbs a mountain of his own bliss. “want you to let go and— holy shit, and cum with me. please.”

“i’m gonna— mhmmmm..” his words of approval are enough to send you over the edge, and you finally feel the knot inside of your stomach snap. waves of pleasure wash over you as you cum, your body completely going limp.

mike squeezes every inch of your body, using you like a fucktoy to chase his own high. “’m cumming.. shit.” he moans, thrusts becoming stronger as he fucks his cum deep into you.

mike cries out when he cums, overstimulating your hole as you milk every last drop. his orgasm causes him to topple over into his own bliss, hips stuttering as he lets out high pitched moans.

his cum floods through your ruined walls, and he fucks it further into you until he physically can’t anymore.

his body stumbles forward when he pulls out, watching his sperm drip from your filthy hole. your body is sandwiched between his and the desk while you try to catch your breath, legs shaking involuntarily.

as you both come down from your highs, the room feels like it’s spinning. mike gets off of you and sits back in the chair, pulling you by your hips to sit with him.

“jesus christ,” he breathes, completely fucked out, “that was amazing.”

“thank you..” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“hey,” mike says, shaking you awake, “you still have to watch the security cameras.”

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #derek danforth #josh futturman #billy burn #clapton davis #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson is my man #five nights at freddys movie #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mikeschmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike fnaf #mike schmidt fluff #michael afton smut #michael afton x reader #michael afton #fnafmovie #fnaf movie #fnaf michael afton #gn reader

[freak-accident419]

depollute me, gentle angel

Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader

Summary: It’s been days ever since the incident at Paradise Pumps. Days ever since Melinda. Days ever since Billy ran into your arms immediately after coming back home. They say time heals all wounds. But they’re never really truly gone.

Requested by: @roarsaurus

Word Count: 2.7k

Content: TW: implication of past SA, Billy gets triggered, fluff, angst, cuddling, affirmations, “passenger princess” used in a gender-neutral way, kissing, attempted/interrupted sex

(A/n: I tried my absolute best to approach this topic delicately with respect and sensitivity. My intention is not to romanticize or glamorize this topic, or offend or disrespect anybody, but to tell a story.)

“(Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream)

Depollute me, gentle angel

And I’ll feel the sickness less and less”

-

The soft, amber glow of the morning sun had leaked through the blinds warmly, the parallel arrangement of light gently soaking into the blanket that was covering you and Billy. Your eyes gradually fluttered open as you awoke in the early morning, your vision finally focusing to see the love of your life in front of you.

He looked so beautiful. Gorgeously peaceful as he slept. He deserved it, after all. You heard his soft, quiet breaths and just laid there, admiring him. But then he started to stir into his sleep, beginning to wake up alongside you.

As his eyes opened, a smile was immediately formed through the precious curl of his lips. He was so, so beautiful. His gentle brown eyes bored into yours so very lovingly, and that smile only proved his deep, smitten love for you further.

He inhales softly, eyes closing once more as he was still seemingly tired, yet he let one of his hands grasp onto yours, holding it tenderly. “Good morning,” Billy mumbles sleepily as he rubbed across your fingers with his thumb in a soothing back and forth motion.

“Morning,” you reply in a soft, silent tone that mirrored his. You felt warm just from his touch and the calming, delicate atmosphere that embraced you.

His eyes slowly opened once again, finally becoming completely aware in your presence, as another wide smile appeared on his lips from the mere second he laid his eyes upon your face. A soft, low chuckle escaped his mouth, under his breath. “Sleep well?” He asked sweetly, examining your expression.

“Mm-hm,” you hum soothingly, ultimately comforting him with your lulling voice.

“That’s good,” he replies quietly with contentment. You could still tell that he was fairly drowsy through his tired voice, trying to wake up, but it only made you admire this moment even more.

“What about you?” You question, raising an eyebrow. As Billy thought of his answer, he brought your hand to his lips and planted gentle, soft kisses on it, kissing the back of your hand, each finger, your palm, and your wrist.

“Good,” he answers, holding your hand close to himself.

“You awake yet?” You chuckle softly, which emitted a snicker from him as well.

Billy closes his eyes to yawn, and they continued to stay closed as a giddy smile was plastered on his face. “Yeah, I’m getting there,” he mutters, gripping onto your hand tighter, then pressing another kiss onto the back of it.

“You sure?” You ask gently, looking down at his closed eyelids and dreamy grin. “Doesn’t look like it. You could always go back to sleep.”

“Mmm,” he hums lowly, eyes still shut as he rubbed the skin of your hand with his thumb. “Nah, don’t worry. I’m getting up.”

His eyes fluttered open for the second time and the two of you just gazed at each other. Billy was so fascinatingly beautiful. Seeing him up close, seeing the whirlpool of burnt umber in his eyes, seeing his pupils patiently dilate, seeing the very faint stubble on his face, and seeing the subdued freckles across his nose… it amazed you. He was so achingly gorgeous.

You moved your head towards him and kissed the soft smile on his lips, delicately bringing your hand to the back of his neck, making it’s way up to the healed burns on the side of his face, and cupped his jaw. Once your lips pulled away from his, you giggled sweetly, looking at him closely.

“Hey,” you whisper quietly, your hand still cupping his face while his hand lightly held onto your wrist. “I love you, Billy.”

He looks at you with utter infatuation. He could never get over hearing you say that to him. “I love you too.”

You pecked his lips after, before shifting your position on the mattress, sitting up against the bed frame, and looked down at him. Billy yawns again, until he finally got up to sit beside you.

“You finally awake?” You ask, smirking lightly at him.

“Yeah,” he answered, nodding.

The faint sun rays through the window, peeking through the blinds, were now burning against the two of you with its parallel lines. The light on Billy’s eyes revealed the warm, lighter shade of hazel, which you adored intensely.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You inquire, lightly biting your pinky nail in thought. “We can go get breakfast at this diner… I saw it when we were driving here, we could stop there before we hit the road again.”

Ever since the incident, you two had made it your goal to drive from upstate New York to Wyoming. It brought several restless nights, motel stays, and even shoplifting to your daily routine.

In the first week he came back to you from his attempted gas station robbery, Billy was slightly distant. He didn’t tell you much about what had happened. But by the second week, he finally opened up to you. Your heart nearly shattered as you found out what happened to him. A part of you wished that he took you with him, but he insisted at the time, saying how dangerous it would be—especially if he encountered the biker gang. Yet a part of you also believed that you should’ve came with him anyway, that you failed him because of it, that you couldn’t keep him safe in that moment. But right now, all you could think of was how grateful you were for Billy being safe and alive, coming back to you, his home.

He pursed his lips, briefly thinking of your proposal. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that,” he smiles softly at you. In the first week he came back, he also barely ever smiled or laughed. So seeing him genuinely smile meant a lot to you.

“Yeah?” You chuckle, a grin creeping on the corner of your lips.

“Yeah.”

Billy stares at you for a while, essentially gazing at your face. He was mesmerized by your eyes, getting lost into them until he noticed every detail, every eyelash. He watched you blink softly, as your eyelashes fluttered and brushed against your skin. The longer he looked at you, the warmer he felt inside. Like he was safe. You noticed his prolonged staring, and laughed softly to yourself. “What? What is it? Do I—Do I have something on my face?”

Billy only grins warmly at your words, chuckling softly under his breath. “No, uh… You’re just…” He shakes his head. “You are so beautiful, Y/n.”

And in this moment, you could barely form your appreciation in words, so instead, your lips pressed onto his, kissing him deeply and expressing your love for him. “You’re adorable,” you snicker lowly after a scoff.

The kiss progresses, and Billy’s hand cupped the back of your neck, bringing his lips to your throat, kissing the skin all around it. You giggle from the ticklish sensations and moved your head up to give him more access as he kissed and sucked at your neck. You bit your lip and let out a small hum as he nibbled, sucking longer on some areas.

“Oh, you’re definitely awake now,” you chuckle, letting a hand reach the back of his head to rub his hair.

“Thought I already told you,” he mumbled before crashing his lips onto yours once again, letting his tongue run against your bottom lip before parting them. He tasted sweet against your tongue, making you feel giddy inside.

“Yeah, but you always say that and then fall back asleep,” you retort playfully in between soft kisses. He pulls his lips away from yours and lets his hands rub your waist under your shirt before pulling it off of you. You realized that this was the first time he initiated anything in this sense ever since the gas station. He was making progress, you noted, and ultimately, you were so proud of him.

“Yeah, well,” he snickers, pressing his lips to yours once more, “you try driving from New York to Wyoming.”

Your kisses against his lips came to a halt as you slapped his shoulder playfully. “Hey, I drive too!”

“Only sometimes,” he remarks, pulling his own shirt off then chasing your lips for another kiss. “You’re literally a passenger princess, baby.”

“So what if I am?” You retort with a wide, amused grin.

The two of you make out on the bed, feeling his hands run up and down the bare skin of your waist, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants. Kissing him softly, your hand reaches down to his waist, then further down, tugging on his pants and—

“Wait,” he whimpers.

Billy was very stiff, and his hand was instantly grasped onto your wrist, stopping you from pulling his pants down. Your face backs up away from his to look at him and observe his actions. His head was looking down shamefully, and you immediately pulled your hand away from his pants. Terrible flashbacks invaded his mind for a split, horrifying second: darkness, restraint, and fear. His feelings of being used, being exposed, his devastating helplessness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head slowly. “I can’t, I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you stutter out, cupping his face gently. “Hey… It’s okay.”

“No… No, it’s not, I—I really thought I was ready, but… but then I felt you tug on my pants, and all I could think about was….” He trailed off lamentably, and you saw the sheer pain in his glassy eyes and through his frown.

“Hey, no, if anyone’s sorry, it should be me, Billy, okay?” Your brought his face closer up to yours with your hands.

“I really wanted to try. For you…. a-and for me. I really thought I was ready this time, b-but—”

“Hey,” you say softly, yet loudly, instantly grounding him. “You at least tried, and you’ve made so much progress, and I am so proud of you, Billy.” You find his shirt that was on the mattress and put it back on him, doing the same with your own clothes afterwards. “It’s okay. We can just lay here, alright?” He nods quietly. “Is it okay if I touch you here?” You gestured to his arms and shoulders. He nodded, humming a yes. But that wasn’t enough for you. “Words, please, honey.”

“Yes,” he replies in a murmur, which granted you to pull him against you in a hug, cradling his head. Billy sniffles and hearing that broke your heart. “I actually thought I was ready.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, okay? You don’t have to be ready immediately, you can take your time. It’s alright, it’s okay,” you console swiftly, rubbing his hair gently. “We don’t have to do anything.”

The room was completely silent, except for Billy’s faint sniffles, contrasting from the moments of before. “I… I just… I don’t know.”

You frown, beginning to caress his hair with your fingers. “It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper urgently. It was important for him to know that, to believe it. “Nothing was and it never will be. You didn’t do anything wrong. You shouldn’t be sorry for anything.”

He stays quiet for a while. He felt so small in your arms.

“You’re safe now, okay? You’re here with me. I would never do anything you didn’t want, okay? Whenever you’re ready, I’ll wait for you,” you reassure him, letting his soft, brown strands tickle your fingertips.

“I feel like I’m always gonna be like this, react like this,” he mutters painfully. “I feel like I’m broken.”

“No, Billy, you’re not—”

“I am,” his voice cracks, and you only cradle his head closer in your neck. He felt like there was something wrong with him ever since. He couldn’t do this for you and he felt horrible. “Things are just never going to be like they were before, back to normal, and-and we-we can’t—”

“You’re still you,” you cooed softly, stroking his hair gently as his head rested on your chest. “Anyone who would have experienced what you experienced would feel the same way. Scared… hurt… Hey. I love you, okay? You’re safe, you’re safe now. Nobody’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

“I… I can’t be what you need. I don’t deserve you.”

“Hey, no… no…” You continued to caress his hairline, watching his eyes stare into oblivion. “You deserve me as much as I deserve you, okay? Only you are what I need. Nothing else from you, just you. I’ll love you for anything you are. I’ll always be patient with you. Sex barely defines our love. I’ll wait for you, I’ll be here. Whatever you need, tell me. I’m here for you, I’m always here for you.”

Billy sighs softly. “Please, just… just don’t leave me,” he whimpers desperately.

“Never,” you immediately reply. “I’ll be beside you the whole time, okay? We’ll get through this together, my love.”

He nods silently in response.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you repeated in a whisper.

He pauses for a while. “I know.”

But did he?

You continued stroking his head, whispering affirmations and words of reassurance. His eyes were closed and he indulged in your sweet touch. He had felt so polluted, but your soft caress and affectionate mutters made him feel clean. He felt so sick the more he thought of the incident at Paradise Pumps, but your presence calmed him down like a remedy. You were there to support him. And of course your goal wasn’t to “fix” him—after all, he wasn’t ever broken to begin with. As you said, he was still him. And what happened to him, shouldn’t have happened to him.

You thought you should distract him from any more memories he’s had, so you kiss his forehead lightly and spoke to him serenely. “You know, the diner I mentioned? I saw, like, a pretty big sign advertising, like, blueberry pancakes.”

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles softly.

“Yeah. Your favorite,” you hum. “How about… I drive us there as soon as we’re fully up… and you can get those ‘deluxe’ pancakes. I know we have to save money and we said before that we shouldn’t spend too much on leisure, but… it’s my treat for you, alright? We can always, like, pickpocket shitty rich guys. Sound good, love?”

The way you talked to him had warmed his heart. He felt so comfortable, so safe. He knew you’d never hurt him, never terrify him. And not only that, but he felt loved. So loved, like never before. Your efforts to distract him from his pain with tranquility had subsequently calmed him down.

“That’d be amazing, angel,” he says with a clearer voice this time, head proceeding to lay on your chest. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby. I love you so much, okay? And maybe you can be the passenger princess for today, yeah?” You offer, moving your hand to rub his cheek softly with your thumb, feeling his warm skin against it.

“Oh, god, you’re gonna kill us both if you drive on the freeway,” he jokes with a tired chuckle, making you smile to yourself. You were glad to hear him joke after this, glad to hear him laugh.

“Hey, that’s why I don’t drive us often, so don’t complain about me being the passenger princess all the time,” you retort playfully, yet kissing the top of his head twice.

“Whatever,” he mumbles sweetly. His head was laid onto your chest and he could hear the steady, constant heartbeats that belonged to you. It comforted him. Your existence, your aliveness, your presence. The fact that you were there with him, that he was with you, reminded him that he was going to be okay, as long as you were there with him.

He loved listening to the sound of your heartbeat; trying to sync his own breaths and pulse with yours as he laid on you gently. The sun was brighter through the blinds, a soft yellow-orange now occupying the warm motel room.

“I love you so much,” he finally says, realizing that he forgot to say it back from all the previous banter. You affectionately kiss the top of his head again in response.

Billy didn’t want to think about anything more. He just wanted to be held, to feel loved, and you granted him that. He wanted to feel everything, to hear everything in this moment. Your delicate fingertips against his head and face, caressing him gently as he hears your soft breaths and whispers of affection. And so, all of this confirmed one thing: it was going to be okay.

He was going to be okay.

-

April is S.A. Awareness and Prevention month: please don’t be afraid to ask for help.

National Sexual Assault Hotline: [phone]

Resources

If anybody needs to hear this: It wasn’t your fault.

#billy burn #burn billy #burn movie #burn movie 2019 #burn 2019 #burn x reader #billy #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn x gn!reader #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #derek danforth #clapton davis #josh futturman #gender neutral reader

[xcherryerim]

Please tell me y’all do that with any josh hutcherson media PLEASE

because my dumbass literally has a whole plot on how I could fit on fnaf 2 and 3 😭 TELL ME IM NOT CRAZY PLS

#mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #josh futturman x you #josh futturman x reader #josh futturman #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth #billy burn x you #billy burn 2019 #billy burn #josh hutcherson #jhutch1992 #jhutch

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

[r04dk1llx2]

i promise the billy fic will be out soon my brain is at a blank and i can’t think of a way to wrap it up 😭

but

what if… what if i draw smthn.. billy,,, rrgrgrgrgr

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #billy burn #jhutch1992 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanart #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson fanfiction #billy burn x you #burn billy x reader #billy burn 2019 #billy x reader

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 26: Attitude

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 26, Part 27 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Wow, twice in one week. Wild. Hope you guys like it!! Let me know what you think! Word Count: 3,090 Warnings: none

You relish the feeling of the asphalt under your shoes. Lengthening your stride, feeling the pull of your muscles, you set a steady pace. You barely notice the cold after a mile. In a way it’s almost comforting, the frozen air pressing around you biting at your exposed skin, almost like a kiss. The night is dark and peaceful, most people are already asleep at this hour. It swallows you whole, hiding all the parts of yourself you’ve been trying to ignore.

You know you should hate it. After seeing all the evil things that can hide in the dark, you should be terrified. But you’re not. A familiar shiver traces down your spine, like the darkness around you recognizes the darkness in you. A part of it will always live inside you, etched into your very skin, down to the bone. You can feel it with you now. The tingling sensation prickling around your scars, twisting down your back, it’s always there, but in the cold night air its caress feels like an old friend. 

You fall into it, the feeling allowing you to drift in and out of thought. The inky blackness pouring into you, filling the space in your mind where confusing and complicated thoughts once dwelled. Thoughts about Billy, about Steve, and Nancy, Jonathan, your mom, Hopper… all those loud thoughts smothered by the blanket of darkness. It’s peaceful here, in this place of no feeling. It would be easy to stay… It always was. 

You don’t know how long you walk, instinctively making your way down the street. Your stride is suddenly interrupted when part of your shoe becomes detached, flopping against your heel as you shuffle to a halt. Shaking yourself out of whatever fog you had fallen into, you lean down to inspect your sneaker. You can see in the dark that the back part of the sole on your right shoe has finally given up. The piece of rubber dangles loosely from the rest of the shoe. Prodding the damage gently you’re hardly surprised when another inch peels away from the main shoe. 

“Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, trying to press the rubber back into place hoping that maybe it will magically adhere long enough for you to make it home. A light flashes from behind you on the road, the sound of an engine disrupting the silence of the night. In the headlights you are able to see just how distressed your shoe is, illuminating the irreparable damage. 

Straightening up, you turn slightly to assess the oncoming car. Its headlights blind you for a moment, you lift your hand to shield your eyes as the car comes closer. You can tell it’s slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart beats a little faster, you try to tell yourself it’s probably nothing, just a concerned Hawkins resident out for a drive… in the middle of the night. You take a step back, off the road, your muscles tensing in preparation, keeping your arm loose at your side, knowing that it will take you 2 seconds to get the knife from your ankle. 

The car comes to a stop beside you, the drivers’ window already lowered. You can’t see into the car, your eyes struggling to readjust.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time you almost froze to death?” The driver says. Of course. As your eyes focus you can make out Billy’s sharp features, his white teeth flashing as he grins up at you. You can’t stop the upward tilt of your own lips, your stomach twisting at the familiarity of the situation.

“What can I say? My tutor says I’m a slow learner.” You say with a shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. 

“Sounds like a smart guy.” He replies with a smirk. Before you can reply he cuts you off. “If you keep standing there giving me attitude your fingers are going to freeze. Get in the car before I have to drag your ass to the hospital.” You open your mouth to refuse but as you shift your feet you feel the sole of your shoe slide, reminding you of your current predicament. Another mile and you’ll be hopping on one foot. 

“Fine.” You agree. If it were another day you would laugh at the surprised look on Billy’s face. In all the times he’s offered to give you a ride, this is one of the first times you’ve actually accepted. “But only because I think my foot would actually get frostbite if I don’t, and I don’t feel like getting a lecture from my mom if I get taken to the hospital.” You explain, walking around the car, limping with the awkward flop of your sole with each step. 

Billy reaches over the seat to unlock your door before you get to it, rolling up his window as you climb in. The heat from inside the car washes over you, drawing your attention to how cold your limbs had grown. You hadn’t even noticed. Sliding into the passenger seat, you close your door and buckle your seatbelt. 

“Why are you limping?” Billy asks, his eyes searching over you in the dim light of the car before reaching above him to flick on the interior lights. He looks you over from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury. You prop your foot up on your knee, allowing the light to shine down on your busted sneaker. 

“Looks like they just finally gave up.” You comment, flicking the dangling piece of rubber. Billy’s expression relaxes slightly, seeing that it’s just your shoe falling apart, not you. 

“What are you doing walking out here anyway?” He asks, flicking off the light. “I thought you left with Harrington.” He says, turning away from you to face the road, putting the car into gear. You can see his shoulders tense, despite how calm his voice sounds, the muscle in his jaw fluttering. 

“I just drove him home.” You tell him, watching his expression carefully from the corner of your eye as you lean forward pretending to look at your shoe. You wonder why he would be so curious. You know he had seen you leave with Steve so why was he… Suddenly something occurs to you.

“What are You doing here?” You ask pointedly. You hear his hands tightening around the wheel, his gaze locked forward, again that muscle in his jaw ticks. 

“I was just in the area.” He says, attempting to keep his tone casual. You know he’s lying. It’s getting too easy to read him these days. 

“I saw you at Tinas’.” You tell him. His eyes flicker to you briefly before returning to the road. 

“I saw you too.” He says, his voice suddenly hard. Your stomach drops uncomfortably and you look back to your foot. You aren’t sure why you feel like you’ve done something wrong. You grit your teeth together in irritation. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You were just hanging out with Steve, Billy was the one with some girl hanging all over him.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at the party. You looked pretty… occupied.” You try to keep your voice indifferent but a slight bitterness tinges the edges despite your efforts. You hate the jealous feelings swirling in your gut. You have no claim to Billy. The two of you hardly tolerate each other. 

Still, you find it hard to ignore the fact that there is something volatile between you, something wild, almost dangerous. You’ve been trying to stamp out the ember between the two of you since you met, somehow it keeps flickering back to life fanning itself into a flame the closer the two of you get. 

“Yea, if I was desperate and bored enough I might have considered it.” Billy says, immediately catching what you're alluding to. Who you’re alluding to. “Girls like that are only fun for a minute, they tend to get a bit clingy if you give them a taste.” He goes on, shooting you a devilish smirk, explaining it to you like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Your face burns at the implication of his words.

“oh.” Is all you can manage, toying with your shoelace hoping the dim lighting hides your undoubtedly flushed cheeks. Billy chuckles lightly, seemingly amused by your lack of response. You should be used to this, he’s always saying things to fluster you, he must get a kick out of it or something. He clears his throat after a beat, keeping his eyes ahead. 

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at Harringtons’, sure he wouldn’t have minded.” His tone sounds shockingly similar to how yours had, going for casual but a bitter undertone slipping through. The meaning behind his words is not lost on you. 

“We’re friends.” You say, reflexively defensive. Billy scoffs.

“Right.” He says, shaking his head. It’s clear he doesn’t believe you. You cut your eyes to him in a narrowed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, letting your irritation bleed through. Billy seems unaffected, his shoulders shaking slightly with a humorless laugh. 

“Come on, Loca. I know you’re crazy but I didn’t know you were blind too.” He says, his smirk taking on the wolfish aspect you associate with his cruelty. “He hangs around you like a love-sick puppy! He can’t go two seconds without touching you. You’re really going to try and tell me you’re ‘just friends’?” He asks, lifting a brow in disbelief. Your face flushes with anger replacing any sort of embarrassment you would feel at Billy’s description of yours and Steves’ relationship. 

“Steve is going through a lot right now.” You respond tensely, meeting his eyes evenly. He turns his eyes back to the road, another dry laugh escaping him, causing you to grit your teeth harder. 

“Oh right! I forgot who I was talking to. The saint of Hawkins High, trying to save poor Stevie boy from his broken heart.” Your anger flares in your chest, pulsing against your ribs. Billy didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He didn’t know Steve, he didn’t know what the two of you had been through together. How much death and darkness you had helped each other through. You would be DEAD without Steve Harrington. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hiss, struggling to keep your hands from shaking in anger, curling them into fists in your lap. Billy doesn’t miss this, he keeps pushing. 

“Trust me, the broken heart routine only lasts until he gets what he wants form you loca.” He tells you harshly. You scoff at that.

“Oh and you’re an expert, right? Had a lot of practice?” You spit back. You think you see hurt flash across his face but only for a moment and he’s back to himself. 

“I may not be an expert but I’ve definitely been around the block a few times.” He tells you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as they pull back from his teeth in a knowing grin. “Which is more than you can say if your reaction this afternoon is anything to go off of.” You gap at him, your anger coming to a screeching halt as you try to think of a response.

“I- That- That’s none of your business.” You blurt out. Billy laughs again. 

“Oh don’t be embarrassed loca, we all have to start somewhere.” He coos, giving you a look of fake sympathy. “I’m just surprised you’ve made it this long with how Harrington seems to be pawing at you.” You know he’s trying to hurt you. You’re not sure why, but he couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I told you it’s not like that.” You insist, pressing yourself further into your seat, turning your body away from him to face the window. You watch the dark shapes blur past, melting together. 

“What’s it like then?” He asks. You know he doesn’t expect a response. Anyone else would have nothing to say to that. But there is a small part of you that needs him to understand. You’re not sure why, but you tell him the truth. Or at least part of it.

“Steve was there when I was attacked last year.” You say calmly. It’s like all the air is sucked out of the car. Billy says nothing. You can feel his eyes on the back of your shoulder, where he knows the top of your scars starts. He’s seen them, he knows how the skin is puckered, still angry and raised along the flesh of your back, you know he’s picturing them. “He’s the one who drove me to the hospital, thinking I was dead. He held my hand when I was in a coma, visited me as much as he could when I woke up, brought me homework, kept me company even when I thought I didn’t want it.” You speak without emotion. These are all facts. It’s who Steve was even before he became one of your closest friends. “He’s been a good friend to me. An amazing friend.” You let yourself smile gently at the thought. “I intend to be the same for him.”

The car gently comes to a stop in front of your house. You turn back to Billy. He’s not smiling now, any trace of the cocky Billy that was teasing you moments ago is gone. Instead he keeps his eyes straight ahead, his knuckle white where they grip the wheel. He is eerily still, his tense shoulders barely rising with each breath. There is a beat of silence. It feels like you’re balancing on a tightrope, one wrong move and Billy will snap. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You nearly whisper, unbuckling your seatbelt. You reach to open your door, Billys’ hand on your arm stops you. You turn back to meet his gaze in the dim light of the car, he looks almost angry, his eyes intense as he focuses on your face. You steel your nerves, preparing for whatever hurtful comment he has ready.

“I didn’t know.” He says softly. The contrast between the hard edges of his expression and the gentleness of his tone is extreme. You realize then that the anger in him is for himself. You soften, knowing this is the closest to an apology Billy can give you. 

“It’s okay. You know now.” You tell him. His expression only tightens, his hand gentle on your arm tenses slightly. Leaning back you take his hand from your arm, holding it in your lap as you turn towards him fully. “It’s okay Billy. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.” You explain, hoping he can see the honesty in your eyes. He searches your face, his expression loosening a bit. 

“Why did you tell me?” He asks, keeping his voice low. You hesitate. 

Why did you tell him? Your thumb grazes over the knuckles of his hand, feeling the raised bumps of the scars there. Sometimes you forget that he has scars too, each one with their own story.

“Because I wanted you to know.” Is the only explanation you can offer. You’ve felt a connection to Billy from the moment he almost hit you with his car. Somewhere along the way between nearly dying again and living with the mess your life has become, you’ve found yourself drawn closer and closer to this angry boy. You want to tell him the truth, to offer him a part of you so few have access to. There is no explanation for it but you want to know Billy and you want him to know you too. 

It must be enough for him because after searching your face a moment longer, his shoulders relax slightly. You fight the urge to lean closer and use your fingers to smooth out the tension in his jaw.

You know what the stubble would feel like, you felt it against your neck earlier today. Your stomach swirls at the memory. You worry that he can see the thoughts dancing through your mind with how his eyes search yours. His hand gently takes one of yours, his thumb lightly swiping over your palm sending a shiver up your arm. 

“Come over tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 12.” Billy tells you. It’s not so much an invitation as a demand. Very Billy. 

“And if I have plans?” You ask, living your brow in challenge. Billys’ small smirk sends warmth flooding through you. 

“Cancel them.” He tells you simply. Before you can reply, Billy cuts you off by bringing your hand to his lips. His breath ghosts over your knuckles as he presses a gentle kiss to the skin. Your hand reflexively tightens in his, the words catching in your throat. Goosebumps explode across your skin and you’re sure your face is so red it’s probably glowing in the dark. 

Billy’s light chuckle only adds to the heat gathering low in your stomach. 

“So that’s how I get rid of the attitude.” Billy muses, watching you closely. He moves to bring your hand to his lips again, turning it slightly to press another kiss to the inside of your wrist. You can barely hear his words over the sound of blood pounding in your ears. “I would have put my mouth on you a lot sooner if I had known that.” He whispers the words against the sensitive skin of your wrist. Just when you think your heart is going to pound out of your chest, Billys’ teeth gently nip at your arm causing you to let out a small gasp. The sudden noise from you seems to break the spell he must have put on you.

You rip your arm out of his grasp, whipping around in your seat to fumble at the door knob. You nearly fall out of the car when you finally fling the door open, the cold December air sobering you up as you scramble from the vehicle. Billy laughs from the driver’s seat, causing you to glare back at him. 

Your only response is to slam the passenger door and turn, striding up your driveway. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, loca! 12 o’clock!” Billy yells from the window before he revs his engine so loudly you’re sure you will be getting a call from your neighbors. You roll your eyes, not bothering to watch as his taillights disappear into the night.

AN: Let me know what you guys think!

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[cryptidcorners]

Fire's Your Friend ~ — Billy Burn x GN!Reader

Description: You meet your boyfriend Billy after weeks of radio silence. Luckily, he's still the bastard you know and love.

# No Request

# A.N: I wrote this before I watched the film and it's been rotting in my notes LOL!!! enjoy

Media: Burn [ 2019 ]

Character: Billy Burn

Tags: Events Take After Burn, Established Relationship, Slightly Suggestive? If You Squint, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, Sweet Talk + Reader is !GN.

Warnings: Mentions of Blood/Injury, Smoking

TOS. Billy Burn Master List {TBW}

The sunset was red in the clouds and cold, ill air was sinking into the emptying lot, while a few silent pedestrians roamed to watch the light flee, it was still lonley in your eyes. 

Billy's lighter was busy in your hands, as you found mindless entertainment in flicking the steel trap and running your fingertips in it's maze-like design. Though, toying with a relic from a phantom wasn't widowing away your impatience.

You cupped your face reluncantly due to the ice trailing on your cheeks as nighttime brimmed into the silent square. The wild, warm colors from buzzing advertisements and wasping vehicles flickering like holiday lights on a street a few yards away (which were walled with barbed wire) hadn't even distracted you, since your cocky companion was fresh in your mind. 

You set the lighter ablaze, eyes fixed on the fire. It reminded you of your life, reminded you of the outside, reminded you of Billy. He was so dangerous, yet you found yourself on his porch every night enjoying his company. Though, you hadn't entirely gotten used to his trips. He'd pack nothing but a few dollars for gas, a firearm and some fake ID from God knows where. You prayed he'd come back in one piece, hopefully not with mobs on his tail. 

"Don't you know it's dangerous to put fire so close to your face?" A voice said with a wry chuckle. "Or, is it nothing you've felt before?" Billy, with a great sigh, sat next to you. He looked breathless, as if he had ran a marathon, twice. Relief filled your bones and you felt weak already, "Billy." 

Then, your eyes flickered wildly. 

He turned his head, revealing his scarlet soaked side glittering under the moonlight. 

"Oh, my God. Is that blood? Billy—" Your concern was icy. Billy immediately tensed and shook his head, 

"It's nothing. It doesn't hurt, it's just . . . there." He assured with a sloppy attempt to grap your shoulder. "It's been a while." 

You knew he had a short fuse, and he looked tired enough. You bit back another pester, "Yeah, it has." 

Billy's warm grasp shock your fingertips as he gently took his lighter back, purposely caressing your hand just to tease. To your annoyment (and his amusement), it had worked and you felt your face warm. Billy sighed and eyed a pack of cigarettes slipping out your pocket. He then shook his lighter in front of you, "Mind giving me a smoke?" 

You laughed softly. "Really? You want me to do it for you—again?" Billy groaned playfully, throwing his head back lightly with a low giggle. He then teased, "It's been a long night. And I'm just so tired, you can give me some hospitality, can't you?" Billy added. "I know you're soft for me." 

"Careful now." You ruffled his hair affectionately, "I'm just lighting a cigarette." You set the cigarette between his curved lips and you lightly pushed him upwards, nails trailing down blue jacket. He chuckled again, gaze softening. "Don't leave me waiting."

"You've left me waiting for a week." You remarked with a waving the lighter in circles. "I can go as slow as I want to, but I won't—at least not tonight anyway." and you began sparking flashes of firelight on the edge of the coffin nail. 

He held back another chuckle behind the smoke, already melting into your touch and leaning more foward than he needed to. Smoke filled the air, and after a long inhale, you pulled the cigarette back and let him flood his pent out exhaustion with the most fragile exhale you've ever heard in your life. You flared as he brought himself dangerously close, "I missed that. Smoking didn't feel worth it without you when I was away, I couldn't bring myself to do it." 

"Were you feeling sendamental or do you not know how to light a cig anymore?" You quizzed. His cheeks flushed with another cocky smile. You ran your fingers across his red face, which had earned a massive flinch. Your pressure eased and you reeled your fingertips down to his chin.

Billy sighed, speaking between the smoke as his eyes domesticated into something soft. "You know, fire isn't so bad. Hot, dangerous, pretty." 

"Are you seriously talking about yourself?" You couldn't help but giggle, tucking his slick locks between his ears as you melted into his gaze. 

"Am I wrong?" He teased and you felt his fingertips lightly trace across your cheek. Billy signaled you to take the cigarette back, and he blew a cloud into your face with a devious chuckle. You coughed, "Dick." 

He rubbed his neck, "Sorry, I couldn't resist. It's funny seeing your face get all sour like that." and he planted a sweet kiss on your forehead — delicate and short as it was, it still made you feel all fuzzy. Billy noticed, "I'm sorry I've been so absent. There's been so much on my ass and . . . God, I'm sorry." 

"Look, look it's okay." You hushed. "I'm just glad you came back in one piece," Then, you mumbled, "But, you seriously need to tell me what happened to you." 

He said slowly, "Gas station." 

"A gas station? Is that—all you're going to tell me." 

"If you light me another, I'll give you three more words for context." He offered. And you didn't even think about resisting.

#🔥 Billy Burn #billy burn #billy burn x reader #billy burn x you #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #burn 2019 #burn #jhutch #writers on tumblr #writing #billy burn fluff #mike schmidt #josh futturman #crazy over him actually!!!!!!!