#4 chairs theatre

[iliketodrawig]

4 chairs theater Jane Doe and Noel/Monique!!! Omg!!!

#rtc #rtc musical #jane doe rtc #penny lamb #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone fanart #noel gruber #4 chairs theatre

[countdogulous]

She's so important to me you don't even know

#k 9 barks #ride the cyclone #jane doe #4 chairs theatre #like. just black janes. all of them. #love you kiss kiss/p

[raine-tree]

she’s pretty

pretty dead lol

#penny ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone #the ballad of jane doe #jane doe ride the cyclone #4 chairs theatre rtc #4 chairs theatre

[real-odark]

why dont the big choir members eat the little choir member...

#i know theyre just standing above her please i just love jane doe one (1) carerpillar tall #caterpillar* i spell #ride the cyclone #jane doe #4 chairs theatre #jett talks (me) #musical theatre #theatre #musical #musicals

[tinflowers]

hey guys! currently exploding

#ride the cyclone #rtc #4chairs rtc #4 chairs theatre #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[therealkachingg]

i need 4 chairs theatre boot im literally salivating and foaming at the mouth plssss i will get rabies if u don't give me it

#ride the cyclone #rtc #4 chairs theatre

[skaiansatellites]

happy 413 the title of this collection of plays my sister is reading for college just about gave me whiplash

#I’m sorry. #the rhinoceros the chairs the lesson #fucking theatre of coolty #homestuck #413 #4/13 #theatre of coolty #dirk strider #j.txt

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 3)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

Part 3 A tragedy 

So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.

「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」

Minors DNI 🤺

You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.

But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 

You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 

“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.

“No, Tommy.”

“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 

“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.

You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.

“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”

You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 

“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”

You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.

“For what?”

It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 

He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.

“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”

“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”

“He usually cuts us in.”

Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 

“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.

“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.

“That’s it?” Incredulous.

“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”

“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 

Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 

During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.

Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”

You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 

Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.

“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 

Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.

“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.

He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 

Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 

“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.

You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 

“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 

“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.

“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.

“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”

Lie. 

“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 

Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”

“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.

“Then look at me.”

Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.

You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.

You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.

Lie. 

You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.

Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.

“Alastor, people are staring.” 

His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.

“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.

“The truth or wh-“

“Always. Never give me anything else.”

You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”

Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.

“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 

Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.

“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”

You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?

He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 

You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.

Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 

You stood, waiting for an explanation.

Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”

You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 

Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?

“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”

“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”

He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”

You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.

He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”

You watched his car light up and leave the alley.

It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 

So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?

Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”

You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 

Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 

Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”

Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”

“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”

Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.

He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 

Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.

Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 

However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 

Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.

Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.

Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.

When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.

“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 

Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.

“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.

You grimaced, “No, a murder.”

She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”

You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.

“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 

“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.

“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”

“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”

A nod, yes, actually, you had.

“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”

You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”

When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.

“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 

Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.

The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.

The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  

Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?

Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.

The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.

You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.

And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.

Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.

You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.

The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.

“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.

“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.

“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.

“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”

A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”

A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 

Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 

Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 

Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 

You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”

“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”

Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 

Funny how that works both ways.

Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 

The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.

Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 

You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.

Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?

He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.

You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.

Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”

As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”

He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 

You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.

“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”

How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 

Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.

“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 

How could he make hell sound so sweet?

“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 

He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?

His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 

You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”

His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.

Had you said something wrong? 

“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”

Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.

He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.

Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.

Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 

With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 

Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.

He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 

Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.

You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.

Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 

But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.

Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.

“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”

His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.

You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”

He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.

“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.

Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.

The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 

Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.

Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.

He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.

He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.

He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 

(Next Part Next Week, orz)

*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin #the radio demon #human!alastor #human alastor

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 4

Part 3

Aaaah, Tim had missed undercover work! There was just something thrilling about becoming a whole new person by making a few small tweaks here and there. He had combed his hair in a side-part, carefully applied make-up to make his skin look paler and his eyes bigger and put on a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Worn sneakers, baggy jeans, a loose plaid flannel shirt with a hoodie tied around his waist hid his lean, muscular frame. A slight slouch and his old high-school backpack completed the look. Goodbye Tim Drake-Wayne, Gotham socialite. Hello Adam Taylor, college freshman.

Jason took one look at him and practically fell over laughing.

“Oh my God, you look like a total dork! Would you like some braces to go with that?” he heckled, catching himself against the side of the car.

“I’ll have you know that this is the height of broke college student chic,” Tim sniffed in mock offence, “It’s called ‘blending in’ Jason. Maybe you should try it!” He walked past his snickering brother to get in the passenger’s seat of the beat-up Ford they used for travelling incognito.

“No thanks, I’ll leave the theatre performance to you,” Jason drawled, tossing the keys in one hand before getting behind the wheel. “I’ll just hang back and keep an eye out in case things go tits up.”

“I don’t even know why you insisted on coming along. I’m just going to question a civilian!”

Jason gave him a Look before starting the engine. “A civilian raised by mad scientists. The way our lives work, we’ll find her building Kryptonite powered robots in the janitor’s closet or something.”

“And the fact that she’s a cute red-head has nothing to do with it?” Tim teased.

“Nope!”

“Liar.”

The drive to Metropolis passed in a mix of mutual ribbing, arguing over radio stations and discussion of recent cases. They carefully avoided the elephant in the room - the reason for their current investigation. The sullen anger of their youngest brother, the quiet grief in Bruce’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching and the mounting tension within the family. Tim doubted that this excursion would be all that fruitful, but he needed to get out and do something for the sake of his own sanity. The last thing he wanted was to watch Bruce emotionally implode over what may or may not be another dead son.

Getting onto the university campus was no problem. Tim had a fake student ID on him just in case, but it looked like he needn’t have bothered. His hacking had revealed that Jasmine Fenton checked into the university library after her last class almost every day, so it was just a matter of biding his time. He sat at one of the carrel desks, idly flipping through the latest issue of Forbes. I wonder if Luthor’s new tech acquisition means he’s up to something? Hm…

“Heads up, target at your 10,” came Jason’s murmur through Tim’s earpiece. Tim turned another page then sat up and stretched, glancing around casually. He instantly recognized the red-head from his earlier research. Tall and light build, long hair held back by a head-band, wearing skinny jeans and a dark grey sweater. She made her way over to the row of desks, carrying a small stack of books and a pencil case. She walked past Tim, only sparing him a glance and eventually settled down at the table farthest from the entrance and away from the other students. Perfect.

Tim got up and returned his magazine to the periodicals section before meandering over to Jasmine’s desk. He put on his best impression of a nervous smile. Showtime.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

She only glanced up from her work briefly then went right back to taking notes. “No, knock yourself out,” she said in a bored tone.

Tim pulled out the chair next to hers and turned it slightly to face her. He sat down and cleared his throat.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Adam. Adam Taylor,” he lied, offering his hand to her. She gave him a tight, polite smile and shook hands with him.

“Jazz Fenton,” Her tone was light, but her body language screamed ‘please go away’. Tim filed the nickname away for later, “Look, it’s really nice to meet you but I have this project I need to work on, so…”

Ah, she probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her, Tim thought.

“Oh, I understand completely! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, I just… I was just wondering if you could tell me about… you know,” he whispered with affected hesitation, “...ghosts.”

The smile dropped from her face and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry! It’s just… your parents run Fenton Works, right? The ecto-biologists?” Tim rushed out, “I just wanted to hear your opinion on their work…” he trailed off at the look of tightly controlled anger on her face. She turned and scanned the room around them.

“Alright. Where’s the camera?”

Tim was caught completely wrong footed. Was she onto them?

“Camera? What camera?” he hedged. She slammed her notebook shut and glared at him.

“I get it. Lets pretend to interview the girl with the crazy ghost hunter parents and have a good laugh at her on social media later. Very funny, har har,” Jazz stuffed her pen back in its case with sharp movements, “Well I have better things to do than make you TikTok famous, so if you’ll excuse me,” she gathered up her books and stood.

Tim winced. He really needed to salvage this situation and quickly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m not filming you, honest! I just read some of your parents’ papers and wanted a second opinion on their research! They, ah… they seem pretty biased,” he said apologetically.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you researching ghosts, then?”

The best lies are built on truth.

“Because…” Tim took a deep breath, “I think my brother might be one,” he forced out, then swallowed hard and looked away.

“Oh,” the anger had drained from her voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim glanced at her as she sat back down. “Thanks,” he croaked and blinked away fake tears. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Adam, what makes you think your brother might have come back as a ghost?” Jazz asked gently.

Tim collected himself for a moment, thinking about how to score the most sympathy points.

“It’s hard to explain. My younger brother… he saw something strange and now my whole family is freaking out. Dad is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is eating him up inside but he refuses to talk about it. I just… I need to know if there’s a scientific explanation to all this. I need to make sense of this whole mess!” he looked up at her through his lashes with his best puppy-dog expression, “Please, can you help me?”

Tim could practically hear her heart melting.

“And the Oscar goes to… Timbird!” Jason teased over the comms.

“Alright. But not here,” Jazz said, standing up again, “This is gonna take some time. And diagrams.”

Oh goodie.

Part 5

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right) #tim drake loves acting #help how did this get so long

[lonelypep]

hi tumblr

ive been rewatching gravity falls and i thought it would be funny to recap certain events in the show with no context whatsoever

-dipper sings dancing queen by abba with a mutant bear he was about to kill.

-stan, a man in his 60-70s, lectures a child on how to formulate an evil plan. (the child is 4 years old, stans rival, and having a mental breakdown because stan's granchildren are in his armpits)

-dipper gets literally mauled by a wolf and decides its better than going to his sister's sleepover.

-larry king gets decapitated.

-kids break in to a convenience store where one of them gets high out of her mind on cheap illegal ice cream (normal tuesday for these kids)

-kids find out about the 8th and a half president: who made the first all-baby supreme court.

-grunkle stan wins the football bowl. he taught the footballers and their gloating friends a lesson. he wins a football winning trophy, and a beautiful woman aptly named beautiful woman. but he couldnt have done it, any of it, without his sidekick footbot.

-soos is canonically afraid of british dog men. hes so real for that honestly.

-ARE YOU SICK OF PILES OF OWLS CONSTANTLY BLOCKING YOUR DRIVEWAY?! WELL THEN YOU GOTTA GET OWL TROWEL

-youre laughing. people are sick of piles of owls constantly blocking their driveway and youre laughing.

-the only on screen character death, with the exception of bill, is that of big henry, who sacrificed himself by taking a golf ball to the other side of the mine. the protagonists never learn this.

-soos turns into clay and starts breaking the laws of the universe. so stan kills him with a radio.

-two kids travel back in time and crush toby's musical theatre dreams.

-"dudebro" became a mainstay in my regular vocabulary for two years because of this show.

-grunkle stan teaches a bear how to drive. he almost gets arrested in this episode. not for teaching a bear how to drive but because of tax fraud.

-soos' stomach emits whale noises.

-mcgucket has apparently exploded an entire downtown city because his pal earnie didn't come to his retirement party. justified tbh

-stan starts booing some little kids because they told their grandpa they loved him

-let me just set the scene for a sec here: its 2016. its a beautiful summer day, where the hazy nostalgia of a music festival fills your eyes, your ears, and the uneasy excitement of love in the hot summer air makes every second better than the last. suddenly, a gigantic flaming head of a man saying "i eat kids" descends upon you from the sky. the graphic horror is something youll never forget. the grotesque image of people in terror at this gargantuan mass of flaming flesh. it burns into your eyes. is this it for you? you see a child, clueless to the situation, ask his mother his final words: is the giant flaming head going to eat us? she says yes. as it consumes you, you cry a single tear. im done being dramatic but this did happen

-beautiful men eat out of stan's trash (this apparently happens consistently)

-youre laughing. darn beautiful men are always eating out of his trash and youre laughing.

-stan strips on public television.

-gourney gets eaten by a halloween monster. he is only freed when soos eats the monnster.

-the gravity falls universe has a public television program where babies fight each other.

-grunkle stan tries to burn aforementioned four year old nemesis alive.

-ok not really but he tries to blind him at least which is still pretty bad.

-grunkle stan tries to steal an animatronic badger

-mabeland has a government entirely run by mabel. this makes mabel an autocratic fascist. sorry i dont make the rules.

-soos' mom turns into a chair.

-theres a character named toot toot mc bumblesnazzle, who plays a banjo. go ahead and guess his narrative importance. if you guess cult leader, correct!

-neil degrasse tyson plays a pig.

and last but certainly not least, stan has illegally shipped pugs across the us border.

#i spent hours on this #gravity falls #pines family #grunkle stan #dipper pines #gravity falls dipper #mabel pines #gravity falls mabel #stan pines #alex hirsch #long post

[meowydoe]

Karnak designs should be talked about just as much as Jane Doe ones because some of them are like the coolest things ever

Look at Canadian Tour, Some Theatre Company, and 4 Chairs!! Cmon!!!!

Aren’t those the coolest things EVER??

#ride the cyclone #karnak rtc #rtc karnak #the amazing karnak #daisy yip yaps

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Movie Thoughts: Choreography and Rehearsals

There’s been a couple of great essays on the one-shots in the movie and the theatricality of those scenes (see here, here and here), and I just want to talk a little about choreography and ferally scream a little about rehearsals.

Taylor mentioned in one of their interviews that a lot of the intimate scenes had a certain musicality to them, and as the boys both have theatre experience, Robbie communicated with them on the subject almost like creating a dance. It’s essentially, choreography. So here’s my interpretation of the choreography part.

I love dancing and took ballet classes for 14 years, and something really important in dancing and choreography is beats. And there are two ways to go about this.

One is literally every beat is a specific motion, it’s a series of sharply changing movements. It’s very apparent for Henry/Nick during the first section of their first hookup in Alex’s room. You can literally count 8 beats as you would for a piece of music, and for every beat, Henry/Nick is doing a specific move:

1: Block the door -> 2: Push open the door -> 3: Right Hand grab Alex/Taylor’s Neck -> 4: Kiss -> 5: Left Hand Grab Alex/Taylor’s Arm -> 6: Left Hand moves to Alex/Taylor’s Neck-> 7: Blank/No New Hand Movements -> 8: Left Hand in his Hair

You can literally count the beats, and hell, in this scene in Henry/Nick’s case, the beats are fairly even. You can almost follow the motions with a metronome.

The other kind is hitting marks: as in there are “key poses” to strike at certain times, but how to get from one pose to the other is more up to the actor. (There’s a great video explaining this idea in fight choreography/sword fighting: check it out here) I think that’s what the red room kiss counts as the boys have certain marks to hit: both of them hitting the wall, Alex/Taylor grabbing Henry/Nick’s thigh, then pushing him onto the table, then grabbing his waist while Henry/Nick grabs his hair etc. They have specific places for their hands and legs and well, themselves to be, but everything in between is pretty continuous motions that I don’t think can be precisely designed. You can still sort of count a beat, but it’s much less clear than the example of Henry in Alex’s bedroom.

 

So here’s my question.

How many of the scenes in the movie are choreographed, and what scene was which kind of choreography?

There are the two literal dance scenes, and then most of the intimate scenes go without saying, because it’s not just a matter of the choreography, but also requires discussions on intimacy and boundaries. Among the photos Matthew posted about rehearsals, I’m assuming all photos with the boys on a couch are the intimate scenes. (Matthew said the first hook-up was shot exactly as rehearsed)

But another photo Matthew posted was the hospital storage room scene, the absolutely adorable photo with Nick and Taylor squeezed together in the middle of a bunch of chairs.

Which means the mess of Henry and Alex falling into the storage room then flailing their limbs trying to figure out how sit properly without crushing each other was choreographed. And honestly…how? Because that scene looked like such a mess and so damn chaotic, I really can’t imagine any part of it being designed besides the general idea of “fall over, push each other a bunch, end up with Henry/Nick on the right and Alex/Taylor on the left.”

Also the Paris scene. Of course that has to be choreographed, but I just… can’t imagine how? Like the red room scene, Alex’s room, the polo tack room, if I don’t immerse myself in the movie I can sort of see the performance, the directing aspect of the scene, but the Paris scene, I completely can’t. It’s so well done, it looks so damn real. Of course, I know it’s not, but I can’t see it. That’s how well done the scene is. How in the fucking world did they do that? On top of that apparently, people who went to the March screening said there were three positions (which, please fucking release everything PLEASE), so again, how the fuck did they do that?

What other scenes were choreographed? They had two weeks of rehearsal (although Taylor said he got Covid on the second week so I don’t know how they went about that), how much did they do?

God I know Matthew’s slowly releasing behind-the-scenes footage and I’m guessing a, he has a lot, like a lot b, he’s understandably taking his time, but I wonder if he’ll ever let rehearsal videos see the light of day. Besides my own curiosity about how their rehearsal worked, there's also that one adorable picture of what looks like Taylor said something that made Nick laugh which is just so cute, it would be nice to see what the boys themselves were like during rehearsals and what their banter was like

Anyways all this to say MORE BTS FOOTAGE PLEASE 

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #matthew michael lopez #rwrb thoughts #rwrb cast #behind the scenes #seriously please tell me #i want to steal his phone #i want to see everything #it's just so... delicate? #or messy? #and it's all designed? #how did they do that

[beetboxx]

the leather jacket effect - billy hargrove x reader

pt 4 - masterlist

THIS PART CONTAINS SMUT, AND IS THEREFORE 18+, MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS PART OF THE SERIES!!!

other warnings; era misogyny, mean dom billy, sub reader, fingering, f oral, p in v, billy being horrible and then billy being less horrible, slight angst - let me know if i missed anything

REQUEST BOX OPEN! (also, come and talk to me!)

you had only been on a couple of dates before that fateful monday. your first one was freshman year, in '82, when joshua wallace from model un asked you out to a movie. joshua wallace was.. average. he wore khakis and polos or sweaters, wore glasses and his hair neatly combed and pushed back. he was always italy at MUN meetings, and always got a little too into it. you two saw the secret of nimh, a dumb little animated movie about a mouse. you had suggested the dark crystal, or the slumber party massacre, but joshua said his mom wouldn't be okay with 'scary' movies. you two sat side by side, the armrest separating you two, as he snacked on popcorn he bought for himself and refused to share.

and then there was eric. he played tennis. actually, he spent more time playing tennis than actually breathing or sleeping. he was sweet. brown eyes, wore button ups and jeans and pulled out chairs for you and opened doors. he asked you out to his own tennis game. you went, it was boring, long, and you didn't quite understand the appeal of a bunch of dudes in white throwing around a ball. you made out in his mom's car after that, and then he struggled for about five minutes to open and put on a condom. you were bored the entire time, even though your famous “first time” is supposed to be romantic, special, significant. with eric, it was a chore. the next week, he asked you if you wanted to go watch him during a tournament. you called him to tell him you were sick.

and then steven, from theatre. he made you smile until your cheeks hurt, complimented you and left notes in your locker. he asked you out using shakespeare and roses, and then took you to a drive-in screening of rocky horror picture show. he covered your head with newspaper when janet and brad are walking through the rain, brought rice and playing cards to throw at the screen. you had the time of your life, but you couldn’t stop giggling and looking over at him and he was so damn cuddly. you two stayed late after the movie ended, popcorn and rice all over the bed of his truck so he could lazily finger you under a blanket before having the most average sex of your life. you went on four more dates with steven after that, each one unique and silly and full of giggles and smiles.

but you found him having sex with a girl wearing a prairie dress with a cowboy hat backstage during their production of oklahoma!

so, easy to say you hadn’t had the best luck with dating, or a very dignified sex life. you thought you would’ve found a long term boyfriend by your senior year- someone mundane and kind and.. boring. everyone thought that you would find some wonder-bread to bring home to your parents and sit at a comfortable distance, so when word spread around that you were going on a “date,” with billy hargrove, it felt like your hair was on fire everywhere you went. girls whispered when you walked by them, suddenly guys were paying attention to you and complimenting your skirts- well, complimenting how the skirts made you look. you just ignored it, for the most part. kept walking after saying a quiet thank you. this was not on the itinerary for the year. but everyone was way too scared of billy to speak out about this anomaly. he had been there for about a week and already had the entirety of hawkins high trapped in his fist. except nancy, of course.

“okay- what the hell happened to not wanting anything to do with him?” nancy interrogated one afternoon at your little study group slash chat hour.

“hm?” you hummed, not lifting your head up from your homework.

“billy!”

“the new kid?”

“yes, the new kid- you know who i’m talking about,” she argued.

“yeah. what about him?”

nancy gave you a very cold, stern look. she had this specific face that just read “don’t fuck with me.” her eyebrows were slanted as she glared at you through them.

“okay- okay!” you surrendered, setting down your pencil. “it’s nothing, seriously. we’re just going to the football game.”

“you say that,” she reprimanded, pointing a pen in your face, “but then he gives you his jacket, and then he tries to get a b.j. in his shitty car he can’t drive, and th-“

“i got it!” you grumbled, frowning and looking down at your hands on the library table. nancy took a breath before scooting a little closer to you, her stern face falling into a more worried expression. she was scared for you, you could tell by the pursed lips and raised cheeks and the pure amount of worry in her eyes.

“i’m sorry. i just- (y/n), i’ve seen guys like him,” nancy explained, joining you in the search for a distraction in her own fingernails.

“i know, i know. its..” you trailed off and lifted your head up to look at her, which soon caught her attention and gave her the cue to re-engage in the conversation. “he’s the first guy to like.. notice me. in a while.”

nancy frowned, her shoulders dropping rigidly. she’s been in your shoes before.

“trust me, nance. i’ll be okay.”

she sighed, nodded reluctantly and threw up her hands as a surrender. the rest of your study session had a huge cloud of tension hanging over it that entire time- all the nerds and study-junkies could feel it, and it made the rest of that hour and a half absolutely miserable. but it gave you alot of time to think, as your eyes aimlessly wandered pages and your pencil scribbled in the corners. billy wasn’t going to be an exclusive deal. he couldn’t promise you love, or loyalty, and you had no idea how everyone else would hypothetically react. but if this goes somewhere, this little chess game of yours, would it end in a draw? perhaps his king, instead of trying to capture your queen in all of his patriarchal powers, would pull her into a hug, give her a kiss on the cheek and tell her it would be alright. and of course, there was always a chance you were imagining all of this and it was all a spooky wet dream, and billy hargrove never really existed!

the attention was good, at first, with all the gossiping and sudden interest from guys since now you were considered unavailable, even though nothing had happened to consider you that. boys were just like sheep. and you kind of felt terrible for the girls, feeling like they needed to compete for their attention. you understood it now. all of the times you had made fun of cathy and nancy for waking up early to do their hair and makeup made sense to you now- they were all forced to be in competition with each other, and once word spread about billy asking you out, you were their top competitor. without you wanting to be.

and of course, word got around to cathy. she approached you about it on that friday, way later than you thought she would find out about it. it was during your shared history class, when you were finishing up notes. she had tapped on your shoulder from behind you, and you could tell from the strength of the taps that she was very urgent.

“what’s up, caths?” you asked, twisting your abdomen to face her.

“you know what’s up,” she replied, dead-panned and staring at you with her beady little eyes. cathy didn’t have a malicious bone in her body, but you really felt like she was about to tell you that she wasn’t angry, just disappointed. you could not bare to live in a world with no people like her or nancy.

“… i’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking down in shame like a kid who got caught grabbing candy from the candy jar.

“what?”

“i said, i’m sorry.”

“wait- why are you sorry?”

you looked up, cocking your head to the side. you couldn’t tell if this was a rhetorical.

“because.. i’m going to the game with billy?”

cathy gasped, her hand immediately flying to your arm and shaking her head rapidly.

“i’m not upset, (y/n)!” she assured, her permed hair flying around as she shook her head. “i’m so totally excited for you!”

now it was your time to reply with a, “what?”

cathy beamed at you and giggled a little bit, her leopard printed shoulders bouncing carelessly. “you finally got yourself a little boy toy! and a very, very hot one, at that.”

“oh,” you said, confusedly. you didn’t exactly know what was happening right now. “you’re not.. mad?”

cathy made a weird pouting face and told you very sincerely, “of course not. i’m happy for you!”

you returned her smile in the form of a quick grin, before nodding in confirmation of her approval. you were glad you had the cathy-go-ahead, but there was still that aching feeling in your gut, pulling and twisting and screaming at you to abort the mission. screaming at you that this would change your senior year from the simple, academic, calm one you had grown to love. simplicity was good. unnerving, familiar. and billy hargrove was anything but simple.

"mrs. (l/n), do you have anything to share with the class?" mr. allen, your bald-headed, grumpy history teacher inquired sarcastically, pulling your attention out of your swimming thoughts. you spun around in your seat, completely silent as you shook your head. mr. allen was scary. looked like a bulldog and always wore very comically large shoulder-pads.

soon after mr. allen had interrupted you and cathy, you were given a solid minute before the bell rang to gather up your stuff that wasn't shoved in your locker into your backpack. he made everyone stay thirty seconds past the bell as usual just out of pure malice, and then you were dismissed for your next period.

you made your quick stop at your locker to shove a few more things that you humanly could in there. you could have sworn that locker had some sort of pocket dimension in it capable of holding all of your books and textbooks and notebooks. but it was lovely. familiar. you went there every day between your history class and english, and it was one of the moments in your day where the rustling and chatting and occasional shouts from the hallways around you were welcoming, because it happened every single day.

as you were walking down the hallway to your next class while holding your copy of , something very out of your schedule occurred, however. something that had never happened before. you got.. catcalled? you weren't really sure what to call it, but as you passed a group of basketball players, wearing their lettermans and sneakers and all various shades of blue jeans, one of them whistled at you.

you were very sure it was at you, too, because another one next to the whistler had the audacity to shout, "yo, (y/n)! lookin' fine today!" before the others erupted in chuckles and various sounds of dog-like expressions of attraction.

you didn't know how to react, so you just mumbled, ".. thank you," your cheeks flushing and a shy but very confused smile pulling at your lips.

one of the players, the one you guessed had started this, let out another form of onomatopoeia in a loud 'ooooh!' and slapping the chest of the guy next to him. it was all very strange. they acted like dogs. no, they acted like dogs and expected girls to swoon over them. they acted like dogs, and treated girls like they were the dogs. the entire moment just made you sick in your stomach. it felt wrong. to be objectified like that, like a piece of meat. they were only interested in you because you had been 'claimed,' and you were totally not a fan of it.

and then you realized that your next class was in fact english, and you dreaded your hallway walk even more. maybe you would get lucky, billy wouldn't show up and you wouldn't have to deal with him for another day. maybe billy was merciful enough to spare you from his demeaning flirts until you went on your little outing together to a shitty football game.

you soon realized that no, billy hargrove was not that merciful. he was there when you walked in mrs. campbells decorated door, lounging in his chosen seat with his toned legs sprawled out underneath him, stretching far enough to reach underneath the chair of the person in front of him. he had some smug expression on his face, as usual, like he was about to pull a pair of sunglasses from the abyss and tell you he had you all figured out. and most importantly and shocking- he was early. to a class.

he didn't seem to notice you, or was choosing to act like he didn't notice you, until tina, from behind your seat, drew the class' attention to you with a gleeful 'hey, (y/n)!'

his eyes dragged over to you, standing in the classroom doorway with your book and a composition notebook tucked in your arms. he flicked his chin up as a part of a greeting.

"speak of the pretty devil. we were just talking about you,” billy asserted, every single pair of eyes in the classroom falling on you. this attention you did not like. you could read every single emotion from the room full of opinionated teenagers. it made you feel like spotlights were blazing down on you, turning your face red and your skin hot and a little tingly. you gave a little, nervous hum as a response to his proclamation. the heat of the attention made your knees a little wobbly, your hands unsteady as you walked past billy to your seat. you sat down, slowly as you approached the shark, which prompted billy's body to follow your direction and give you a smile that rotted your teeth.

"you excited for the game tonight, babe?" he asked you while chewing his gum with his molars, that one ending word of endearment making everyone in the classroom have their own micro-reaction. excitement for their bro-dude, jealousy because that should be them getting that title, jealousy because that should be them giving that title, disgust that this was such a big deal, and more. but yours was just shock. your eyes went wide, lips parting in a barely noticeable gasp.

"um- please don't call me that," you whispered, hoping that it was just him that heard it, but unfortunately, the gaggle of jocks emitted chuckles and scoffs at your response.

you saw billy's face fall, with his nostrils flaring like a bull and teeth gritting together. he shot a glare as sharp as a dagger at the boys around him, to which they responded accordingly by falling silent. at first, you thought they were laughing at you for 'being such a prude,' but you soon realized that they were laughing at billy- you had embarrassed him.

his smile then returned with a chuckle as his jaw loosened from its tension, beginning to chew his gum like hew as doing before.

"why not? you're a fuckin' babe," he chided, intending to sound like he didn't care, but the bite he applied was obvious that he was a little wounded by your push-back.

"it's.. it's a little degrading, is all. you could have.. used my name."

he laughed at you. it stung.

"ah, so you're bein' a bitch today, huh?"

"n-no, i just don't want to be treated like.. that," you muttered, your agitation beginning to grow. the people around you basically pulled out a bucket of metaphorical popcorn as they watched the ping-pong match between you two. to billy, it was some sort of sadistic strip ping-pong.

billy was so close to responding, until he was interrupted by mrs. campbell's less-than-cheerful announcement that class had begun and to quiet down. he turned around in his seat, and you could feel the steam blowing from his ears and into your vicinity.

english class was painful. billy didn't say a word. not to you, not to the teacher, not to the people around him. he opened his copy of animal farm, but you could tell he didn't read a single word. you only got a chapter or so yourself. everything felt.. wrong. the words on the pages felt like you were reading an ancient symbolic language, which was the same feeling you got when you tried to read billy. he didn't make any sudden movements until the end of class, when the bell rung and everyone was dismissed.

you always took a while to get your stuff, and billy knew that already, so he lingered, sitting in the same exact spot you last saw him in, with his fists clenched on his desk and his shoulders tense. once you stood up, he followed, turning around on his heel and blocking your exit escape. you two were the only people in the class at that point. he didn't say anything, just took a step towards you and grabbed your chin with two unexpectedly soft fingers. he brought your chin to look at him, a movement that gave you a scary deja vu that made your stomach turn over.

he took a long moment to stare into your eyes with a dangerous, flat look. you could feel his minty breath, and you could see the brewing darkness in his eyes.

"you better learn to watch it," he said. it was simple, a command. a threat. you didn't know what he would do if you didn't, and you didn’t exactly know what you were supposed to be watching (you guessed it was the whole embarrassing him thing). but you didn't exactly want to find out- though, seriously, what the fuck could billy do that would be so horrible if you continued to ‘talk back to him’, even with your innocent intentions that you had before.

he didn't give you the chance to respond, though, letting go of your chin with a slight push, once again slowly turning around, grabbing his bag, and exiting the classroom.

that was all you thought about for the rest of the day. nothing else. just billy. and his fingers. and the dangerous look he gave you. and it was like a horror movie- you knew you were going to be scared and your nerves and adrenaline would be on fire under your skin, but you were so intrigued, and.. excited.

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

6:24, a whole 36 minutes until the terrible football game was about to start. no one went to the hawkins high football games for fun. the team was terrible, boring, and the marching band completely half-assed it, knowing it wouldn't have been a memorable moment anyways. basketball games were the true games to go to for the game itself- and the guys in shorts and tank tops. people went to hawkins high football games to either support someone, get drunk and/or high, snog in or under the bleachers, and just hangout with their friends in a reckless abandon.

you didn't know why you were going, to be honest.

you heard a loud, angry honk from outside your house, prompting you to mutter a string of curses as the anticipation grew in your veins. you couldn't tell if your hair was standing up on your head like you were upside down. you hurriedly put on your mascara, a finishing touch to a very intermediate look. it was definitely out of your comfort zone, but.. you wanted to impress someone. show them- him, you weren't what he thought. throw him off his game, show him who's boss in this situation.

you did your makeup with your best impersonation of molly ringwald, glossy red lipgloss and rouge on your cheekbones. but you kept your outfit strictly you. you didn't need to change your clothing style for a guy. it was your last thread of comfort that you were strong to hold onto. loose jeans and a button-up, that was it.

a loud knock- no, a bang on your front door sounded through the house. you basically sprinted to it, twisting the doorknob open and throwing the door open so hard it banged against the wall behind it, hopefully not leaving a scratch, but you were too caught up in the moment to check. there was billy, leaning against your doorframe, a cigarette hanging from the corners of his lips. he wore a tight polo shirt, definitely purposefully defining all of his muscles and figure. you noted a little silver necklace with a pendant you couldn't fully make out. his hair was.. well, perfect. it definitely had to be a perm. you wondered what would happen if you threw a bucket of water over his head. his blue eyes were piercing in the dim light, first shooting through your chest where a little sliver of skin showed, making you immediately go and cover it up. they skated up to your face, lingering on the glossy red lips you applied. for you, of course. it wasn't for anyone else.

"uh-.. hey," you greeted, trying to sound as calm as possible. you were anything but calm.

"you get all dolled up for me?"

damn it. he saw right through you.

you just shook your head. you saw the slight hint of a grin. you had to fight with your hand to not reach up and slap it off of him, but it was too planted to your sides to resist your resistance.

he clicked his tongue and looked to his car, before pushing himself up off your doorframe. he turned, and began walking to his car in quick strides. you followed like some sort of lost puppy. he walked right past the passenger side car door, going straight to his own and opening it for yourself, proving to you that you weren't even worth the few seconds it would take to open your car door for you. maybe it was to you, maybe it was to him. regardless, you opened it yourself, climbing into the car soaked in cigarette smoke, ash, and rebellion. billy didn't even wait for you to put on your seatbelt, which you knew you had to when driving with billy, to start up his car with a growl and slam on the gas.

it was about three minutes of tense silence, the small carriage being taken up by soft rock music from the radio and the sound of the camaro's exhaustion, before one of you broke. it was you.

"hey um- i'm.. i'm sorry for embarrassing you, or whatever. in mrs. campbells.”

he just scoffed.

“i really don’t like the way you spoke to me, though. like- i’m not mad, or whatever.. i only want you to treat me like-“

“it’s fine,” he bit.

you could hear cold as ice by foreigner playing on the radio. it seemed fitting, but you couldn’t tell why. maybe it was the icy tone in his voice.

you needed to change the situation, quick, or else you would be calling for cathy’s saving before the game even started. so you decided to.. turn it into a joke.

“but uh- did you see tim’s face when you gave him that glare?” you lightly laughed. “looked like he was going to shit himself or something.”

that pushed a tiny, breathy chuckle from billy. it was lighter than the chuckle he gave when he was mocking you earlier.

you let that light simmer for a while, resorting to staring down at your palms in your lap, trying to read the lines in them and see if the stars held any resolution that night. you didn’t see anything. and then there was a little shimmer from venus.

“yeahh.. guy’s a tool.." he grumbled, but you could feel the jokiness in his tone that threatened to rise to surface.

you offered him the same chuckle he put on the table. you chewed on the inside of your cheek as your eyes followed the lines on your palm, trying to find the courage within to say something more. you turned to look at him, your view landing on his hands on the steering wheel. you couldn't look him in the face, even if he was staring at the road.

“hey, billy?”

he hummed.

“why did you ask me to this game?” you questioned, quiet and very, very sincere. it wasn’t challenging, sarcastic, it was a genuine question.

“i dunno,” he replied. it wasn't cocky or smug, just clueless. he really didn't know why. he didn't regret it by any means, but it was something that just happened and he didn't realize that it did.

"is it a.. date?"

he iterated the same response, "i dunno."

"why are you so.. mean to me? mean to.. women."

billy blinked rapidly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"why are you asking so many questions?" he challenged, crueler than he intended it to be. not that it mattered, anyways. "a little chatterbox tonight, huh?"

you nodded, shrugging. his mocking question was intended to make you shut up, but instead, it just made you continue to talk more. it made his forehead crease. "yep. i've never done this before, to be honest. usually when i get asked out on a date it's... asking, not demanding."

billy frowned, a now angry frown that he was being chastised.

"well, then i'll tell you," he began, stopping you before you could say anything else. "you sit next to me, look pretty and be fuckin' quiet. or you can go talk to tommy's girlfriend about.. shopping or whatever the fuck you girls talk about."

now it was your turn to scrunch up your eyebrows.

"and maybe, if you're lucky, i'll pull into an empty parking lot after the game."

your head cocked to the side as you glared at him, which to him, looked more like a pout until you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "an empty parking lot, really? why?"

billy scoffed at you again, rolling his eyes until they landed on you, pulling your attention from his steering wheel you had been staring at as he disregarded traffic laws and degraded you.

"oh, that's adorable," he mocked. "you really don't know?"

"okay, if you're gonna be a total lame-ass, i'll just go spend the game with my friend.” you tightened your arms over your chest like you were holding a shield to yourself to protect from billy’s overall unpleasantness.

“i wouldn’t be if you weren’t gonna be such a bimbo," billy rasped, his voice gaining in volume.

"didn’t you fail a grammar quiz, wise guy?” you snapped back. you felt your ears getting hot, your nails bluntly digging into your arms as the anger, and confidence, brewed. “i mean, seriously, do you have anything going on up there behind that mullet besides like.. wondering when you’re going to get your rocks off next?”

your tone became a lot harsher than it was before. your emotions had flipped like a coin, a quick switch with your increasing agitation and anger. you would rather eat cement than admit that billy was affecting and offending you. but maybe it's not so bad, i mean, wet cement looks edible-

"who do you think you are, billy?" you continued, a lot quieter than your last accusation. it was quieter, but it stung like a hammer to billy's head. you scooted further away from him in your seat, closer to the door just in case you needed to tuck-and-roll out of the camaro. you saw him seething, his knuckles turn white as the rest of him turned an angry red. his breathing was heavy and gravelly in his chest, rumbling like a volcano before eruption. "you can't- you can't treat women like they're pieces of meat."

billy gritted his teeth together.

"but that's all you are." he spat loudly, not even giving the effort to look at you as he pulled over in the road and stopped the car.

"no!" you argued, shaking your head, "i'm not! how do you know that you're not the.. piece of meat, huh?"

he laughed. a haunting laugh that you had been hearing in your head the whole week.

then he went silent. his face fell, his hands fell of the steering wheel and onto his thighs. he sat back in his seat, staring out the dashboard window into the darkness that had consumed the october night.

"you're killin' me, (y/n)."

you let your shoulders drop.

"what?"

"i don't want to go to the game," billy declared, his voice much quieter than it was in his seemingly controlled fit of anger.

"what, you wanna yell at me more?"

"no. i don't know-" his voice suddenly rose to a shout, his head snapping to face you. the movement made you jump, swallow a thick cloud in your throat. "- what i want, okay? so if you could just shut the fuck up-" he slammed his palm down on the steering wheel, causing it to emit a loud, dull sound throughout the car that seemed to shake your body. you stole a shaky breath from the heavy air.

"let's just.. let's just talk," you apprehensively suggested, mousey and wide-eyed. billy ran his fingers through his curly hair. he shut his eyes, tightly.

"what the fuck is there to talk about?" he snarled. you fiddled with your fingers in your lap, suddenly losing that streak of bravery when confronting billy.

"your life? my life? i-.. if-.. let's get to know each other."

"god, that's lame. you're fuckin' lame."

you felt frozen in the leather seat, like he had spread out a thick glue and stole the sweat from your body. your chest was heavy, fingers seemingly stuck in a rigor mortis clench. but your jaw opened itself, like a venus fly trap luring an unsuspecting fly with a bitter sugar.

".. what's the necklace?"

billy stopped. his face turned white, a cold white. he flew away from you.

"it's none of your business," he snapped harshly.

your eyes darted from him, to the steering wheel, to your lap, anywhere in the car. they took their final resting place upon him, finding the sliver of skin where the pendant rested.

"i wanna get to know you," you whispered, shrugging your shoulders.

billy didn't further the conversation. just rapidly threw his hand onto the transmission and shoved it into drive, pressing down his foot firmly on the gas so quick you were kind of thrown around in your seat. you had to grab onto the console and the door handle to be able to settle yourself back into the leather before speaking again.

"billy- where the fuck are we going?" you urgently, but nervously, demanded.

you were met with nothing but silence and the engine of his car growling at you.

----------

there wasn't a word spoken in that goddamn camaro until the car let out its hum of sleep and fell into stillness. you were snapped out of some sort of trance billy had put you under, a trance of confusion and a sprinkle of fear.

billy threw his door open immediately after tugging the keys out. you followed him on your side, more frantic than his somehow cool composure. you knew he was anything but cool, probably pretty near boiling level by now. he was such an anomaly. he didn't make any sense to you. when you got out of the car, you saw him leaned against the hood of his camaro, big hands shoved in his front jean pockets. you stood by the car on your side, making sure to not make any sudden movements. you were way too scared to even touch his car, like it would catch on fire and dissolve billy into an ashy mess.

the air was cool, a breeze blew past you and swirled around billy, ruffling up his hair gently. you could smell the water, musty and earthy as it swished around and waved hello to you two. you could see stars and billy's car's lights reflect onto the water, anything but calm as the reflections distorted and twisted and stretched on the surface. you could hear the trees rustling as they danced with the breeze. it was calm. a lot more calm then billy's tension

"california," he finally spoke up, staring down at the ground as he crossed an ankle over the other.

"what?"

"california. i lived in california before i moved to this shit-hole."

you took a step closer to him, lighting a fuse that made his head turn to you. you saw a different emotion in his eyes, something you had never seen from him before. twinkling in the dark, a small spark distant from his irises.

all you could utter was, "oh."

"my dad- neil. he thought it would be good for his stupid fuckin' new chick and her kid. i thought that-" he swallowed, rough and hard and tobacco-tainted, "- that i could make this place mine."

"i hate it, (y/n). i hate it here."

you took another step towards him, the wind pushing you to him and coaxing you to investigate more. you couldn't speak. it was like you were watching a film play out and this was the final scene before the main character got his happy ending. but you knew that you weren't in that scene.

"you- have been driving me crazy," he conceded, his gaze returning to the abyss in front of him. "you.. and max, have been the things that i just.. can't win."

you chewed on your bottom lip, crossing your arms to hold your warmth and dignity to yourself.

"have you ever thought that.. maybe you haven't been trying?" you suggested. you took the final steps necessary to reach to the spot next to him, where you gently rested yourself upon the hood of his car.

"you're too fuckin' perfect. it makes me so mad," billy chortled darkly, a self-pitying laugh that made the night seem darker. "and you know what's the worst part? you're fucking boring."

your eyes glanced from side to side, searching for any words. all you could come up with was, "ouch."

you turned your head to look at him. his spine was curved where he was crossing his arms over his broad chest, his outline visible with the dim reflection of his headlights. his hair was a mess, out of place and frizzy from the moisture of the lake and the frustrated hair pulls.

"i dunno what to do," he said quietly, a small admission of hidden defeat.

"have you.." you cleared your throat to swallow down some of the fear bubbling in your stomach, ".. ever thought of.. not being such a dick to everyone?"

"cut the sass, alright?"

"i'm not being sassy," you dully argued, shifting your weight around in an attempt to make the situation a little more comfortable. you failed at that. "if you weren't so.. mean.. i would've happily gone out with you. you're pretty."

you saw billy's nostrils flare up. he stared off into space before his eyes clicked to look at yours, his head slowly following suit.

"pretty? really?" he threw back in a tone that more questioned if you were fucking with him, trying to emasculate him or something. but you weren't- he was just really pretty.

"mhm.. pretty," you mumbled. that was about as far as you were going to get with him. he still had a brick wall built up, made of hair-gel and muscle covered in thorns that pricked anyone who came too close.

in a swift movement, billy pushed himself off of his car, leaving you stranded in the darkness. he was about to march to the driver's seat and probably throw some sort of fit, but you straightened your knees and took a step forward in the chips of rocks.

"i'm serious, billy," you called out.

he had his hand on the door's lever, but stopped without pulling it towards him to open the car. his tongue poked in his cheek, sliding over to poke out to cover his bottom lip, shaking his head. "you are the devil, (y/n)."

"no," you said, taking another step towards him, swallowing down your dignity. this had to be some sort of trap he had laid out for you. "i just.. think there's more to you than all those.. abs and stuff."

"why are you being nice to me?" he asked, more irritated than anything.

you sucked in a breath and swallowed it down, in the process swallowing down your dignity. the breeze of the night must have possessed you, because before you knew it, you were closing the inches between you two and laying your hands on the collar of his opened polo. you grazed your eyes on the v of exposed skin before letting them walk, rather run, to his face. he was pretty. so pretty that you couldn't help but tug on the fabric, slowly, until the tip of your noses met. he just stared into you, blue eyes intoxicating you until you were out of your mind enough to close the gap and press your lips upon his.

you were kissing him. you were kissing billy hargrove and your head was completely empty. no synapse firings or rational thoughts were occurring to send a signal to your legs to run away and escape. maybe you were just falling into his trap, maybe it was pity or defeat, but when his hands came up to grip your waist tightly, you were spent. gone in the thin ring of ocean blue on his face. it was familiar, the hold he had on you and how he told you he would have you in a jiffy. it pained you to admit he was right. you just couldn’t help it, especially not when he moved to press you against the side of his camaro so he could deepen your kiss, lips battling with each other in a dissonant harmony that was somehow satisfying. but not satisfying enough to get you to stop.

“i-i wasn’t lying,” you stammered with a pant, as steady as you could be with billy expertly pecking at your bottom lip, trying to reignite another heavy kiss. “you really are pretty and-.. and-“

billy pulled himself off your lips, leaving not even an inch between your two heated faces. you could feel and smell his breath, the gum that he chewed and the words he spat to hide his emotions.

“and what?”

you stared up at him, smoothing your hand from his cheek and over his chest, fiddling with the fabric.

“h-hot? i don’t.. know..” you whispered, your eyes finding the silver pendant against his chest and locking onto it so you didn’t have to look at him. but you could feel billy’s signature smug grin grow on his face. you were immediately regretting the decision you didn’t make willingly, but you didn’t back out.

“you gonna get all shy on me?” he murmured, leaning down to force your chin back up with his nose. “c'mon, where did all of that high and mighty shit go?”

he began mouthing over your jaw, making sure to nip where your jaw met your ear. he noted the hitch in your breath by repeating his actions, this time pulling a tiny little squeaky hum from the back of your throat that didn't leave your lips.

"you were planning this, weren't you?" you gasped, leaning your head back without thinking just to let him wrap his tail around and around you until he suffocated you. he took it as an invitation to kiss and bite across the delicate skin of your neck, which he happily accepted.

"ohh, don't blame this on me, naughty girl," he muttered between bites. "but you're just too innocent and perfect for that, huh?"

you hummed a little, "mm-mmh," and shook your head. you didn't see yourself as innocent, per se, but billy wanted to grab the halo above your head that only he saw and rip it into pieces. you had a little tiny urge to prove him differently, lifting up your leg so it bent at the knee and rested on his hip. he caught it for you and gripped the skin under your thigh, letting it mold in his fingers. it brought you closer to him, particularly the pelvic region, which you realized when you felt a hard, thick bulge trapped under his jeans rubbing up against you. you gasped at it, hands jumping up to the back of his head, filled with long, blonde curly hair to lightly tug on it. he heard it, he felt it, and so he pressed up against you, lifted his hips up slightly so he could plant them back down between your legs, gritting his hard bulge between your jeans.

"jesus," he grumbled, sinking his teeth into a spot just above the crease where your collarbones met with your neck. he lingered there, placing his tongue on the target and began to lightly suck.

"mmh- billy, no marks-" you protested, shifting your hands to his chest to lightly shove him away. he didn't budge, simply slid one of his hands opposite to the side of your neck he was attacking, pressing it against you to press you further into his mercy.

he growled, a rumble bubbling in the base of his throat with a, "too bad."

you stopped pushing after a couple of seconds, the exact second a whine trailed from your lips and prompted a chuckle from billy when he sucked down, hard. it stung, a tiny bit, but god did it feel good for your skin to be violated like that. rough and unforgiving, teeth scraping on your jugular until he had decided there was a sufficient enough bruise to make you wear a turtleneck for the next week. you didn't notice how much you enjoyed it before you found yourself grinding against his pelvis, a friction that formed sparks and sent them flying up your nervous system.

"you've been thinking about this, haven't you?" billy whispered, removing his teeth from your skin and kissing up the underside of your chin, up the side of your jaw, kissing the corners of your lips as a finishing touch. "that pretty little head filled with nasty things, all the nasty stuff i would do to ya."

he hit every mark. you had been thinking about this since that damn party, rutting against his thigh lodged between your thighs like a dog. you didn't have to think about that, though, with the real thing pressed up against you and grinding at your clothed clit. you whimpered, pathetically and weakly. your eyes were pulled up to meet his, blue eyes corrupted by black pupils that tied you down in them until you broke.

"you want me, don't you, (y/n)?"

you nodded.

"say it," billy demanded.

you then shook your head. he twisted his wrist around so it fit the front of your throat, lightly grasping at it in his big palm. you felt his fingers dig in your waist, so hard you could feel his short nails pressing against your sweater.

"(y/n)," he murmured, sing-songy and mocking, "say it. i can leave you right here, shaking and fuckin' wet."

you whined again, trying to turn your head away from him, but he was quick to catch your chin, holding you in place so he could stare you down. he had this primal look in his eyes, all of the anger and curiosity and desire spilling from his eyes into you. his face was tight, relentless, pretty blue eyes corrupted with libido.

"i can easily drive you home, you know. let you say goodnight to mommy and daddy knowin' big bad billy got you all worked up."

you shook your head again, as much as you could with his hold on you. you could feel the small droplets of spit flying from his teeth and hitting your face, making you wince with each syllable. he was squeezing your chin now, enough to leave a dull pain.

"come on, tell me. say it. say it and i'll give you what you want," he mumbled, voice low but rising to a harsh whisper. "wanna hear you. wanna hear you admit that i won."

you did. you lost this. miserably. there was going to be no winning this game of chess you had going on, he already had your queen in his line of sight and was reaching out to steal it.

"i want you," you spat out. "i want you, billy."

a sickly sweet, sticky smile grew on billy’s face as he released his harsh grip on your chin.

“atta girl, there ya go. that wasn’t hard, was it?” he teased, pecking your lips lightly as a small reward. his hands met at your waist again, before making the short trail to the hem of your jeans. your eyes then snapped wide open, flying down to grab at his wrists and pull them away. he didn’t fight it, he wasn’t that terrible.

“i dont- i don’t wanna do..” your voice quieted to a secretive whisper, “.. it out here.”

billy was quick to reply with a solution. “my place. let me take you home.”

you paused, hesitant and fighting with yourself to resist him more. but you couldn’t. he was inching towards your queen piece that you had placed in front of him, laid out for him to grab his victory. you could just nod, too much in shock to say anything. your eyes were wide, bright in the dark night and illuminated billy’s sight.

“okay,” you quietly conceded. “alright. take me home.”

he lingered with you for just a second until he was turning around, finally opening his car door and climbing in the seat, leaving you completely isolated and feeling way too empty to be standing out in the dark without him. so you ran to the other side of the car, scrambling to get in the seat across from him. he didn’t even wait for you to sit fully before he was pulling the car in reverse and speeding out of the spot it was in. you two didn’t talk the entire road. you just had your eyes set on him as he disregarded most traffic laws. atleast he was watching the road. so much you don’t think he blinked once. it was intense and heavy and thick in that car. your lungs couldn’t catch enough oxygen and you felt a little fuzzy in the head, like you were walking in some sort of twisted dream.

when he pulled into his own driveway and shut off his car, he sat there for a second, breathing heavily and staring into the garage door. then he suddenly turned to you, grabbed your face and tugged you to him, mashing his lips against yours in an almost violent kiss. it was messy and very sloppy, your lip gloss smearing around your own lips as well as basically his entire face. you felt his tongue press against your bottom lip, filling your taste buds with the taste of him. your own hands found the bottom of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your fists to ground yourself to reality, or else you think you would’ve just floated away.

“lets- jeez,” you struggled to say, just barely pulling away from him. “let’s go inside.”

he tore himself away from your lips. your hair was a mess, cheeks rosy and lips bruised and swollen from his own. your eyes had this shimmer of want that drove billy fucking crazy, like he wanted to split you open. and to be frank, he was planning on it. a week of frustration towards you had been building and building and was spilling out in the form of sexual tension. billy nodded, for once not having anything to say as he climbed out of his car and waited for you to do the same. you mirrored him, stepping out of the vehicle and throwing the door shut. you inched your way towards the front of his car, where billy grabbed your wrist and began tugging you inside.

you barely had any time to comprehend his little house filled with the lingering smell of anger as he dragged you to his room. you just knew it was warm. but hot. and cold. all at the same time- something just wasn’t right about that damned house. it was completely put together- neat and tidy, but was so broken and torn apart. you were tripping over your feet, tripping over your mind as billy’s hand splayed over your wrist in his palm and he dragged you across the house. when you got in his room, it was exactly the way you expected. posters of random, half-naked women across the walls, a radio, blue sheets that were scrunching up to the side and left a silhouette of his body. it smelled exactly like him. cheap cologne, peppermint and smoke. you smelt it even more when he grabbed your hips and pressed his lips against your already bruising neck. he groaned softly into your neck, taking a big huff of your scent as he lifted up his foot to shut the door behind him. you were trapped now.

“nice room,” you snarked as sarcastically as you could be, breathlessly as you tangled a hand in his hair. you were still trying to hang onto that thread of control you had.

“watch the attitude." he grumbled roughly, pulling off of you to glare down at you. he cupped your chin in his hand, a glass teacup in his rough palm as he maneuvered you to be pinned to his door. “you gonna keep mouthing off to me?”

you hummed a no. in an instant, billy snapped that little thread you had in two.

what was the use in fighting it anymore? you wanted him. bad. the core between your thighs was aching, and your stomach felt tight. you were sweating, and you couldn't tell how much of it was from you, and how much of it was from billy's hot body pressed against you. he seemingly rewarded this endeavor of surrender, lifting up his leg to slot between your thighs with a strength that probably would've sent you flying into the ceiling if he wasn't gripping everywhere he could. you let out a whine, the double layer of jeans still didn't do much to stop the friction against your aching clit. he had returned to your neck by then, nipping and sucking, painting your neck with little red marks around a bruising spot from earlier. you rut against his thigh as much as you could, letting your jaw hang open and head loll back until it hit the door.

"billy-" you panted. to him, it sounded like you wanted to stop, so he reluctantly pulled back. you were gazing up at him, and you had these big, wide, innocent eyes and it made billy want to squeeze you until you popped.

"kiss me," you pleaded, grabbing at his shirt, "please?"

it made him grin. he had a pretty smile. the corners of his lips unsubtly curled upwards, pushing his cheeks up and creating a line that rainbowed over his way too perfect lips. he wasn't showing you his teeth, maybe he was scared that it would chase you off, but you didn't have enough time to question that fact before he was obliging to your request. he attacked your lips fervently, sliding his hand to grab your cheek, the pad of his thumb digging into the front end of your cheekbone. your hands were fisted in the bottom of his shirt, the bunching of which revealed the bottom of the toned golden skin of his abdomen. you let your hand snake from his abdomen to his oblique, just below his hip.

you felt the muscles tense up, his thigh lodge itself further in between the crevice of your legs. the kiss was anything but gentle. spit was swapped to the point of a thin stream of saliva dribbled down your chin. his teeth caught your bottom lip between them at one point, making a show of pulling it back until your lip retreated with a hard sting.

"you look.. so fuckin' sexy right now," he whispered. he kissed the corners of your lips before he took a step back, leaving you alone and leaning against the door, shaking and ready to electrocute anything from the amount of static swimming through your veins. he walked backwards until his knees hit his bed, plaid blue bedsheets stopping the back of his knees until he was sat down on top of them. his thighs spread, hands hanging over them as he stared at a very confused you in front of him.

you tried to take a step forward, but billy stopped you with a palm out and a ‘ah ah ah.’ your head tilted to the side, like a puppy that doesn’t understand a trick just yet.

“take ‘em off,” billy demanded, his eyebrows raising. “the jeans and that dumb little sweater.”

“i don’t-“

“take it off or i’ll do it for you. you can take off your own clothes like a big girl, right?” he mockingly asked, mirroring your head tilt.

you sucked in a hard breath, but your lungs couldn’t seem to be filled with enough air. you had to save it, as your shaky hands pushed yourself from the door to a standing position and then shadowed over your jean’s button. you kicked off your shoes and socked with your toes, kicking them to the side carelessly. you sucked your bottom lip, already bitten, between your teeth as you unbuttoned your jeans and shoved them down your hips. you shimmied your way out of them, embarrassingly losing your balance as you stepped out of them and tumbling around before you gained it again. but billy didn’t laugh at you like you expected him to, he just stared like he was watching a pretty bird through a piece of glass. shaky hands clutched the bottom of your sweater, tugging it off cautiously, as if a wrong move would set off some alarm. eventually you threw it to the side, leaving your arms free to cross over your chest. you saw his breath pick up, his chest heaving under the thin fabric of his polo. you stayed like this for a while, you shifting your weight awkwardly and billy staring at you, practically salivating.

“are you just gonna stare at me?” you grilled, pouting out your lips as you glared at him. your little pout dissipated, however, when billy shot you a warning scowl. it was a mean look, and it made you feel like you were getting smacked on the wrist for something.

“.. sorry.”

“you are such a brat, you know that?” billy griped, reaching out as far as he could to hook a hand on the underside of your knee, and another on your waist. he tugged you to him in a swift movement, settling you down to straddle his lap. you squealed at the abrupt force, grabbing onto his shoulders to find a balance. “you’d be so much hotter if you would just shut up.”

his palm inched away from your knee and to your backside, hovering over the exposed skin. “but you just needed some attention, huh? needed someone to take care of you.”

his words were heavy, deep and dark and made you feel so weak, so minuscule compared to him. you tried to tense your thighs together, but billy’s own legs stopped you from doing so, leaving you spread and open on top of him. he certainly l abused this power. the hand on your backside smoothed over your skin, trailing across your hips, finding itself between your legs. the fabric of your underwear were soaked, basically sticking to his fingers as he rubbed over it. he laughed darkly at the sensation, hearing you gasp out and grip his shoulders tightly.

“fuck, who could have possibly got you this hot and bothered?” he mused, meeting your widened eyes. you didn’t reply, you couldn’t. your words got stuck in your throat and came out as a prolonged mewl. you sank yourself down onto his fingers, and he gladly welcomed you, lodging the pads of his fingers between the valley created in your underwear. his demeanor was switching every five seconds, from charming and a condescending sweet, to just downright mean and degrading. he couldn’t decide if he wanted to make you pay, or take pity and give you everything you wanted from him.

“y-you did, billy,” you crooned, a needy tune that barely rose above a whisper. “never been with someone like you. i like it.”

billy gave you another grin, just the slightest hint of white teeth peeking through to reward you for the praise. he bit down on his tongue slightly before it poked out to wet his bottom lip, licking the remains of your lipgloss from it.

“you’re gonna be nice and use your manners for me, right?” he tested, bending his fingers slightly and angling them to find your clit between your two bodies. he knew he found it when you let out this little cute squeal that sent vibrations straight to his cock, straining against his already overly tight jeans.

“uh-huh, yes- sure,” you gasped, rising your body up to allow him more access. his fingertips dug into your bare waist, the slightest hint of nails visiting your skin. billy just watched you, watched how your face squeezed together when he hit a right spot, how your hips circled his fingers greedily.

“c-can this come off?” you requested, tugging at the hem of his polo. “please?”

there was no way billy was going to refuse you. he acted annoyed, pressing his lips out and rolling his eyes a bit, but he really, really liked it. his hand pulled itself away from you, making you plant yourself against the crotch of his jeans to compensate. he tugged off his shirt in one swift movement, throwing it behind you on the ground by some other dirty laundry he hadn’t picked up yet.

he was basically sculpted by the gods. something out of a porno or some shit. that time you watched rocky horror picture show, the entire movie you found yourself staring at rocky himself in his toned but brainless glory, how the sweat stuck to his skin and made the golden tan glow and accentuated every little crevice and muscle. you never thought you would see something like it in real life, but here billy hargrove was, with you perched on his lap whining, looking like some sort of sex god or whatever. his dirty blonde hair hung out over the large triangular muscle of his trapezius, curled and frizzy from the sweat and moisture. and god, his chest. you could see everything as his chest heaved, pecs the perfect size for your hand to hold onto for support. this was not pretty. this was some sort of sorcery.

you were staring at him for a long time, letting your eyes rake over every inch of skin he had. you found the little happy trail of hair inching to the button of his jeans, framed by your inner thighs and must’ve subconsciously squeezed them together, because billy let out a grunt as soon as you laid your eyes on them.

“can i touch you?” you asked, sliding your palms down his biceps and squeezing his forearm in one, the side of his hand in the other.

no one had ever asked him that before. it made him feel things in his stomach that he hadn’t ever contemplated before. it was weird. you thought he wasn’t replying because of what you didn’t say, so you made sure to add a small, needy,“please.”

“such a sweet thing,” billy mumbled, like it was a secret you weren’t allowed to hear. but you heard, and your cheeks flushed even further, as impossible as it was. but that feeling in his stomach grew and grew, some sort of gross fondness with your blush and pout- and he realized he needed to reestablish himself as the dominant one in this situation. he needed to hear you need him, beg for him.

so he lifted you up by the waist, manhandling you to be laying down on his bed with him sitting back on his knees. your legs were spread laying on top of his thighs, giving him a good and clear view of all of you. you had that deer caught in headlights look, lost and defenseless against him.

“ya act all tough, givin’ me sass. if only you saw how fuckin’ pathetic you look,” he growled. your hair fanned out under your head on his conveniently placed pillow. he decided then that blue was definitely your color, as you laid against his sheets, holding onto his forearms for dear life. he gathered your wrists in one hand, sliding them up your body as he lifted himself onto his knees, pushing himself forward until you were chest-to-chest. your knees were bent on either side of him, feet planted into the blue sheets to ground yourself. your wrists got pinned above your head, staying there when he released them because of the huffy whisper of, ‘leave ‘em there, sweetheart.’

you swallowed thick and hard as he moved down your body, latching his teeth onto the skin just above your breasts. you whined, wanting so badly to move your hands and grab onto his curly hair, but you also wanted so badly to please him. and you didn’t fucking know why, and it was infuriating, but god did you want his hand back on your cunt.

his hands cupped your breasts over your bra as he nipped at your chest, leaving them there just for a second before he was scooting down your body. your breath picked up, belly rising and falling rapidly as he found his way down it, seemingly biting and sucking at every ribcage until he was completely off the bed. his feet hit the floorboards as he pressed a less than gentle kiss just below your bellybutton, looking up at you through his eyelashes. your eyes were screwed shut, face clenched uncomfortably to not fall apart at the seams.

“look at me.” he barked suddenly, a sudden boom that made you flinch and eyes rapidly open. he smiled against your skin, you could feel his teeth dig into your belly, his tongue poke a dot of saliva down.

“please, can i touch you?“ you reiterated, your voice suddenly as whiney as it had ever been. you bucked your hips up, the cotton of your panties gently bump against his hard chest.

“no. hands to yourself.”

you frowned, pouted out your bottom lip and locked your eyes with his, trying to find peace within the oceans in his eyes. but they were darkened, muddy and clouded with a desire to ruin you.

he bit at your hipbone, keeping his eyes glued to yours, before his lips met the waistband of your cotton underwear. his hands replaced his lips on your hipbones with a bruising grip, keeping you pinned in place with not even a thought of movement. his sharp teeth latched onto the elastic, and you let out a pleading mewl, heels digging into his mattress. slowly, extremely slowly, his hands left your hips as his teeth pulled down your underwear from your body. the cotton slid down your thighs with him until it wrapped around your bent knees, where he just grabbed it and threw it away from you as he stood between your legs. and then you were just wearing a bra underneath him, eyes piercing into you with a need to devour you whole. you were sweating by this point, the salty liquid collecting on your collarbones and forehead.

“jesus fucking christ, (y/n),” he laughed. “thought you hated me, huh? gonna soak my sheets.”

you frowned, whimpering, “m’sorry.”

“oh, don’t worry. you’ll make it up to me.”

he clicked his tongue, shook his head with a quite scary smirk before diving it between your thighs, grabbing a mouthful of your inner thigh and sucked, hard. you mewled, nails digging into your palms with a dedication to follow his instructions. he hooked his palms under your thighs to hold you in place and tug him closer to you, impossible to escape as he inched his way closer to the center of your thighs. but he never got close enough; just kissed, licked and but his way up, down and around where you obviously wanted him most. every time he got close you ran your hips up to try and meet him, but then he retreated back all the way up to your knee. it got to where you winced every time his teeth scraped the soft skin from how irritated it was from his teeth. you were whining, whimpering but not saying anything out of fear that he would stop all together. at one point he got real close to the gummy, wet lips, just to where the color starts to shift, and just lingered there, staring up at you and gripping your sides to keep you from moving. he caught the thick skin between his teeth, and that was about your breaking point. you were aching, swollen clit so neglected it hurt sitting out there in the open.

“fuck, please billy-!” you cried out, stomach lifting up off the bed desperately, chasing anything you could get. “need it so bad, please..”

“quit whining.”

he said that, but that was exactly what he was waiting for. he was planning on taking his time with you, testing your limit with him, intoxicating you until he broke into your head. he was enjoying your dependency. the past week you had been leaving him high and dry by doing nothing. other girls had been wearing shorter skirts, wearing more makeup than they ever had, just to get his attention- and that was all fine and dandy. but you had been wearing the same high waisted, loose jeans and a sweater or a t-shirt that left everything to imagination. and for some reason, just seeing you had dirty thoughts that would make a priest saint running in his head. and he didn’t know why. he just knew it made him fucking furious. he had already hooked up with half of a whole lunch table, and every time, he thought of you. thought of the pretty noises you would make just for him, begging for his touch after neglecting him of yours. but he had to keep acting like you were just another body to him. a very, very good looking body that wouldn’t be able to leave his head, sure, but just a body to use anyways. but when you said that word please, looking like you were about to cry and asked for absolutely anything, he could have sworn he came in his jeans right there.

“please, please, i’ll be good! just want you to touch me.”

he huffed out a snicker. going to be the death of him.

billy decided to spare you. he moved his opposite palm, stuck out his thumb and lightly, ever so lightly, set the firm pad of his thumb on the top of your clit. but you got ahead of yourself, got too excited with the progress of stimulation and rut your core up to rub the slick little bundle of nerves against his thumb more.

“hey,” he snapped, not hesitating to retract his hand all together. “you are gonna take what i give you, when i give you it. stop being fuckin’ greedy.”

“m’sorry, m’sorry!” you pleaded, planting your hips back down and squeezing your eyes shut. “just felt good-“

“thought you were gonna be good, huh?” he mocked, shaking his head as his tongue poked out in his cheek. “couldn’t wait a couple seconds, that fucking pathetic.”

“please, lemme try again- promise, i’ll be good!”

he pointed a finger at you, raising his mean eyebrows warningly. “you move again, i’m not giving you anything.”

“but-“

“s’not my problem, brat,” billy spat. “look at me and watch.”

too scared to be deprived of anything else, you obeyed mindlessly, gulping down a ball of spit that had been collecting in your open mouth as you opened your eyes and met his. you were shaking, thighs tense and unsteady around his face. your abs, arms, every muscle in your body clenched up when billy’s thumb returned against the hardened bud, his other fingers joining it to dig into one lip to spread you open. his knuckle rested in your slick slit, the smooth membrane welcoming him with a nasty, wet sound. you twitched, praying that everything moved except where billy was now rubbing slow circles. he didn’t seem to care about that. you hissed, letting out a loud “ah!” every movement he made felt like a full on sex toy you saw in a magazine every once in a while. it was overwhelming. the simple, slow rhythm consumed you, your jaw hanging open slightly.

“hng- s’good,” you panted. “more, please? please.”

billy rolled his eyes, scoffed at you a bit, but obliged, picking up the pace to a steady jog. his pointer finger began wandering down, sliding in the slickness of your cunt until he found the ring of muscle begging for something to lodge itself in it.

“fuck,” he groaned. he could smell your sweet arousal, how bad you needed him. his eyes snapped up to yours.

you got the memo, nodded eagerly. slowly, curiously, the tip of his pointer finger slid inside you, just enough to worm around and explore. you panted erratically, walls sucking his finger in. he wandered in further, steadily and slowly sliding his finger in you until your entrance halted at his knuckle.

“ah! f-fuck, thank you-“

his eyes left yours, instead raking down your body to find your hole. he swallowed down his breath. you were dripping onto his hand, swollen lips smacking and emitting wet sounds every time he moved his finger around.

“fuck, (y/n),” he groaned breathily, beginning to pump his finger in and out in a small pattern, matching his thumb to the pace. billy had never heard such sweet sounds from such a vulgar practice, in all the times he had fingered a girl at the very spot you were in. whines and gasps and little mewls that threatened to turn into moans.

however, he must have decided that you just weren’t wet enough still.

before you even realized it, his lips had wrapped around your clit, sucking and raking his tongue around and around. his pointer remained at its same pace, but was quickly joined with his middle finger, scissoring and stretching the tight ring. you let out a pathetic moan, the sound he had been anticipating. and you just couldn’t help it, it was all too much, and your own hands shot from above your head to tangling in his hair.

billy grunted into your slit, licking a stripe up from where his fingers spread you apart until he lifted his head up to look at you. very angrily. the creases on his forehead deepened, jaw clenched.

“didn’t i fuckin’ tell you to keep your hands to yourself?” he growled, halting his fingers plunged into you.

you pouted, a full on pout with big doe eyes and a pushed up chin, your eyebrows meeting high up on your face. you nodded slowly, trying to quickly choose your words wisely.

“h-hold them, please?” you strangled out, releasing his hair from your fist and laying them over your stomach. his jaw set as he shook his head with a cocky, sharp simper.

yet, he still wrangled up your wrists in his grip, keeping them pinned at your belly as he dove back into you. the action didn’t seem to phase him all that much. and it didn’t. he was flattered that you needed to hold onto him, but he had to keep the act up. it was getting hard, too. you were fucking adorable with that needy pout, saying please with every sentence. he was also getting very hard. like, painful hard. he was straining against his jeans, thick, hot blood causing a horrible tension.

but you didn’t have any affect over him, obviously.

his tongue continued with its attack, lapping between your folds ferociously, spit and your juices sloppily dripping down his chin and wetting the ghost of hair above his upper lip. his fingers sped up, erratic and merciless. he was chasing something. your eyes, as hard as you tried to keep them open, rolled to the back of your head as they followed the stars and sparks flying around your head. painted pink nails dug into the back of billy’s hand. your moans got louder and louder, frenzied. you almost sounded pained, but it was the complete opposite. it felt so good to be full, you felt full enough that there was a weight in your lower belly, like an endless black hole that kept sucking your senses in.

billy felt your walls tighten around his fingers, making him work harder to keep the pace he wanted. every little sound you made pushed more blood to his hungry cock- he would definitely have to take his underwear off without you seeing the wet patch staining his white briefs. a smile tugged at his lips as they sucked at your clit ruthlessly. you were tensing up so much billy thought you would have exploded. his grip on your wrists loosened up just a tad, enough to wiggle his hand around to grab at one of your palms so you could squeeze it as much as you needed.

but you didn’t have any affect on him.

“billy- billy, m’gonna cum-“ you cried, those words becoming a chant as the weight sank further into your gut. there was a fluttering feeling throughout your body, shockwaves gripping at every nerve and muscle. your mouth hung open wide, your breath getting faster and faster until-

it all disappeared. your vision went white for a while, stars disappearing from your sky as the coil in your stomach slowly uncoiled itself in a very unsatisfying resolution. you felt empty, walls contracting around nothing. his fingers were gone, tongue gone from your slit.

when your vision and partial sanity returned, you came to billy, standing between your legs, sucking off his pointer and middle finger. you were heaving, breathing staggered and noisy like there was a giant cotton ball in your chest. slowly, he removed his fingers from his lips, the same perfect lips that had just been pleasuring you like it was the last thing on earth he would do. his thumb, that same fucking thumb that teased you, wiped your juices off his upper lip and onto a flat tongue.

you felt like you wanted to cry.

“oh, what happened?” billy taunted, hands reaching for his belt and undoing it, making a long show of sliding it out of his jean loops. “did you wanna cum?”

“yes! yes, i did!” you sobbed out, tugging your hands out of his grip grumpily.

“poor baby,” he graveled cruelly, grabbing one of your hands to place a wet kiss on the back of it just to rub it in that your wet arousal was just sucked into his mouth. you sat yourself up, arms crossing loosely over your stomach as you sulked. “you must just hate me.”

you glowered at him, looking to billy like he just took a toy away from a puppy. but your ears perked up when you saw him unbutton his jeans, shove them down his heavy thighs. unsurprisingly, there was a thick, long tent begging to escape from the white fabric doing him no justice. and just as he didn’t want you to see, his pre-cum had left a small splotch of darkened, damp white just where his thick tip was.

your eyes were the size of the moon at it. you stared, rudely abusing the privilege he was giving you. you gulped.

“i wanna- can- can i-“ you stammered, scooting your way closer to the edge of the bed.

“can you what? speak up.”

“can i touch.. it? you?”

he scoffed, laughed maliciously.

“go for it.”

you bit your bottom lip rather roughly. you cautiously reached out, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his tighty whities to pull them down eagerly. his cock sprung out excitedly, stealing your oxygen away in the process. he was big. like, really big and it really wasn’t fair. thicker than it was long, slightly curved up, his big tip tapping his toned stomach. there was already white heading at the small slit in the oversized head, contrasting the angry red that covered his girth. you could see the veins popping out as they ran up his cock, and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to run your tongue up each and every inch. but you yourself were way too desperate. you watched as he reached over to his nightstand, grabbing one of those aluminum squares. he was quick to open it, pull the condom out and stretch it snugly over his cock.

“you scared? think it’s not gonna fit?” he purred, reaching out to card his fingers through your hair to angle your flushed face up to him. you shook your head, offering him a tiny, excited grin. you wrapped a hand around the thick base, immediately coaxing a prolonged groan from his pretty lips. his head tilted back, which encouraged you to slide your hand up and down at a very slow pace- testing your waters. he cursed loudly, grunting your name as he tugged at your scalp lightly.

“you want it, don’t you?”

you nodded rapidly.

“say it.”

you pursed your lips, keeping your pride down in your stomach.

“i want it, billy.”

“ohhh, come on, you can do better than that,” he sarcastically encouraged, tightening a fist in your hair as your own fist stroked his cock at a steady pace. you frowned, shoulders dropping. your face clenched up for a second, releasing all of that stupid old dignity stuff.

“please, billy- i want you to.. fuck me. please,” you whimpered up at him. “need you so bad. you’re so big, need it in me-“

how could he say no to that?

“atta girl,” he grinned. in a swift movement, you returned back to your original position. you laying down on his bed, legs spread and bridged over his thighs, but this time, his thirsty cock pressed in between your folds. billy’s fist pumped himself a couple times, spitting out curses and growls. his cheeks pressed up against his eyes and made them squint up. you felt the smooth head press up against your entrance, slicking itself up in your juices.

“please, please, please,” you chanted quietly, clutching his sheets in your hands and scooting yourself closer to his cock. billy held his breath as he pressed into you, thickness splitting you open with the slightest taste of pain. your mouth went slack, stuck in a soundless moan as you gently writhed, walls swallowing every inch he slowly gave you.

“give it to me, sweet girl, give it to me,” he breathlessly huffed, stuffing you full at a painful speed.

“take it, take it- it’s yours,” you moaned, back arching up. your pelvises finally met eachother when the curly collection of hair surrounding his cock hit your skin. you felt so full, so warm. you both moaned in unison, yours far more whiney than his. he muttered something about taking him so well, being so good, simultaneously rolling his hips expertly to plunge his cock into you.

you cried out at the intrusion, how you stretched tight around him. he didn’t give you any time to adjust, immediately beginning to thrust into your needy cunt at a pace that aimed to please him most. your moans nearly turned into yelps and shouts, babbling curses mixed with his cursed name.

“f-fuck, fuck,” billy stammered, his words coming out as a sick laugh as he watched you suck his cock into your sweet core every time he pulled out to slam back in. it wasn’t a quick pace, just deep and rough and enough to make you reconsider the existence of god. he grabbed at your sides to push you down onto his cock counter to his jackhammers into you. his tongue stuck out and rested against his bottom lip in concentration. you weren’t talking, both in your own worlds with swearing god to hell and moaning the others name. the rest of the space was filled with his heavy balls slapping against you every time his hips struck down into you and the ugly squelching your cunt sounded around him.

“god- billy!” you yelped. “so, so good- feels so good-!”

he sped up with every minute, eventually rising to a bruising pace that would imprint the art of his thick cock onto the walls of your pussy. he was grunting, spit flying from his lips. the veins in his forearms were pulsing as they flexed when he worked you into a rhythm, using your body to stroke his cock over and over again. that coil was there again in your belly, warm and uncomfortable and pressuring you to relieve it.

he slowed down for a minute, just so he could bend over and lay his forehead on your collarbone, lifting up your hips just so he could reach the deepest possible angle he could. he hit the rough, folded patch in your cunt with every stroke and sent a spark straight to the hot fire building up. the sounds you were making were on par to sobbing, now right in billy’s ears. he looked like he was just taking a rest for a second, but you knew that he was staring down between your thighs, watching his cock ruin your hole in ways it had never been ruined before. and you both knew that it wouldn’t be ruined like this by anyone else. his hips rolled into yours, bruising your pelvic bone and you couldn’t help but push against him.

“fuck, just made for me,” billy purred against your collarbone, too distracted by the view to reprimand you for grabbing onto his back, his shoulders, anywhere you could reach with your nails. he was fine with some battle marks, anyways. your moans and whines never ceased, but his quieted down to heavy breaths that fanned over your skin and left goosebumps anywhere it could reach.

“wanna cum, wanna cum so bad. all for you,” you beckoned, a hand tangling in his hair freely. you got away with it, too, he just let you tug at his hair. one particularly hard tug left him moaning himself under his breath; you took a note of that.

billy sucked in an especially hard breath before returning to his brutal pace, thighs slapping against yours and the disgusting sounds returning to his warm room. the thread was getting tighter and tighter, and it was so, so ready to snap. he knew it, he could tell how your pussy fluttered around him and your thighs clenched around his hips. he just sped up, finding a pace that erupted the most sounds from you and then stuck to it. you writhed and jerked below him, clawing at his shoulder and tugging at his curls. sweat was everywhere, in your palms, glistening on his back and streaming down his forehead. the inner fat of your thighs were soaked by now, slippery as his skin slapped against them. your back lifted so far up it hurt, you knew you would be sore.

“gonna make me- fuck, gonna make me cum, (y/n).” he found your shoulder, bit down roughly. he wasn’t lying.

“please, please, need it-“

he lifted you up ever so slightly just to ram himself into your g-spot repeatedly, making you feel like a hundred pounds of feathers were fallen onto your gut. he kept thrusting and thrusting, hard and at the perfect pace. every time his balls smacked against your ass it just added to the weight in your belly, until it just became too much and you couldn’t control it. with a couple more thrusts, you were clenching around him, so tight billy could have sworn you grew some erotic superpower. you went quiet, before the loudest, most delicious moan spewed from your lips. your entire body shook, vibrated, as you continued to cry out. it was long and hard and hit you like billy’s camaro crashed into you at 100 miles per hour. but it was good. so, so good. addictive. you just dissolved into the pleasure, melted into his wetted sheets. it came in unkind waves, each one sending you into a new planet with your eyes rolled back far into your brain. and still, all you saw was billy. he captured a moan in his own mouth as he pressed his lips against yours in a lazy, careless kiss that could barely classify as that. it was just gross and messy, exchanging spit and swears and moans.

your clenching cunt coaxed billy’s own orgasm, a huffy and vicious moan coming out from his lips straight into your ear and made you feel like you came again. he thrusted into you as roughly as he could for a chain of pumps, until he stopped at the deepest point he could, fingers digging into your waist. he filled the condom to the brim, you could feel it weighing in you and it coaxed a sob from you.

“fuck! shit, (y/n)!” he exclaimed deeply, heaving and panting as he started up again, slowly and gently as he rode out his own orgasm. you went limp underneath him, holding onto him with your zero remaining strength. he slowed down to another stop, taking his sweet time pulling out of you, leaving you gaping and ruined.

you both were slowly returning to earth, panting and heaving harshly. your hands slid away from him, legs falling into the mattress as you molded into the mattress. he slid himself off of you, collapsing right next to you on the mattress with a dreamy look on his face.

but soon, both of your faces fell, as you returned back to earth and the oxygen got back to your brains. a dreadful, horrible thought and realization possessed both of you and forced both of your breathing to cease to exist.

what were you getting yourselves into?

TAGLIST

@i-am-lokii-of-asgard @ekirah-d-spair @dasha029 @whiskeypowder @ymylu @emtaz-art @extra-3motions @fanatics30 @hessy04 @nikos-a-clown @zucchinimalfoy @angelbbygrl ask to be added!

#billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargrove x reader angst #billy hargrove x reader fluff #billy hargrove x f!reader #dom billy hargrove #dom!billy hargrove #billy stranger things #billy hargove stranger things #stranger things smut #st smut #st x reader #st x reader smut #stranger things x reader

[raine-tree]

hee hee funny machine man

#ride the cyclone #the amazing karnak #karnak’s dream of life #karnak rtc #4 chairs theatre #4 chairs theatre rtc

[smytherines]

I love One Step Ahead for all the obvious reasons (gay angst), but also because it is so packed with little storytelling moments. Also it just seems exhausting. So much happens in that song:

1. Motorcycle chase (with office chairs)

2. Boat chase

3. Staff fight

4. Sword fight

5. Vigorous musket loading

6. Run up the staircase

7. Hang glider chase

8. Fistfight

9. Run halfway down the stairs again

And the entire time they are doing all of this, they're belting out a vocally demanding song. I mean, no wonder Curt Mega had to take a breath during that final note. That's a feat of endurance. I simply would've passed out and died.

One Step Ahead is one of my favorite setpieces of all time. In anything. Ever. It is so impressive, and it is even more impressive when you realize this was done by a tiny little independent company with the theatre budget equivalent of $1.50. Unreal. It should not be possible.

And the thing is, One Step Ahead is the perfect narrative counterweight to A1P1 (Spies Are Forever). The amount of thought they put into this is just stunning. Because here's the thing: A1P1 is also incredibly physical. For most of the song Curt and Owen are on the move, they're going up the ladder, they're fighting goons, they're going down the staircase, they're running.

But more importantly, Curt and Owen are touching a lot in A1P1. And yeah, that's fun in a swoony curtwen vibes way, but its also incredibly important to the narrative. They are touching a lot, and when they aren't touching they are standing just a little bit too close together. Its subtle enough that you initially dismiss it as a stylistic choice, but once you have the full context it is remarkably intimate.

Those are important details- like the way Owen has his arm around Curt and is literally holding his hand when they're talking to Cynthia. Its meant to tell us that they are together. In the romantic way, yes, but also they're just aligned, working together, on the same page. They are partners here. They literally have each other's backs.

And that's down to Curt Mega and Joey Richter selling the absolute shit out of these roles, and genius choreography by Lauren Lopez, and Corey Lubowich being the director of all time.

The digital download BTS has a part with Joey and Curt rehearsing the bit where they do the hug, and right after that they're trying to figure out what cool action poses to move into and Corey says that he wants to see something with them "connected," which is just... yeah, that's the perfect word to describe what is going on in A1P1. These two are connected.

So then we get to One Step Ahead. At the very beginning, Curt does the arm clasp with Tatiana. The first time they did this, Curt had a flashback of Owen. Owen was still his partner in his heart. But this time that bond is severed. Curt thinks of Tatiana as his partner now.

We get into the action of the song, and Curt and Owen do not touch. Even when they are very physically close together, there are weapons between them. In A1P1 they had lots of moments with their backs turned to each other, trusting each other, working perfectly in sync. In One Step Ahead they are facing each other head on. They are literally and figuratively fighting. They are breaking up.

The only moment during this sequence where they are actually touching each other is when Owen slaps Curt, Curt punches Owen twice, and they do that lock up move. They're only touching to hurt each other now.

And its so subtle and well executed that you don't really think about the parallels between these two scenes the first time you watch them. But you feel it on an emotional level. They had about ten minutes to establish the relationship between these two, and they used that ten minutes so effectively that the staircase scene ends up hitting like a ton of bricks.

Just. I love this show. I love how much TCB and Curt Mega and the rest of the cast care about this show. I'm so grateful they keep coming back to it. I cannot wait to see what they do with these scenes for Spy Another Day.

#spy another day #spies are forever #owen carvour #agent curt mega #tin can bros #curtwen #saf #tcb #tinlightenment world tour #saf rants

[lunagojo]

Various Anime Boys: Being Told "I love you" For the First Time (Part 4!)

Full disclaimer about this part, this is a partial revision of the first part, I decided to go more in depth with the first few guys I did :) I will continue to revise the rest of the boys I did in the first part <3 Please enjoy!

Featured: Satoru Gojo, Dabi / Touya Todoroki, Giyuu Tomioka

Warnings: Dabi being a bit rude

~ Part 1 ~ ~ Part 2 ~ ~ Part 3 ~ ~ Part 5 ~

Satoru Gojo

(love of my life <3)

“Y/NNNNNNNNN. Let’s go do sooommmeeethinnnnngggg. This is boooooring.” Satoru whined, reclining on your couch.

“You’re the one who decided to come over when you knew damn well I’m working on my thesis, Satoru.” You replied, brows furrowed in concentration as you typed away at your desk. The deadline for your paper was fast approaching and you were stressed, to say the least. That much Satoru could tell.

He stretched himself out, long limbs dangling off the sides of the plush sofa. “Why d’you need to do this stuff anyway? All it does is stress you out n’ keep you away from me.”

You had been friends with Satoru for years now, having met him back when you worked at a cake shop. You had commented on how his spending there would finance your whole university tuition, and it had gone from there.

He was handsome, of course. But also funny, endearing, and so unbearably annoying. But he did have a heart of gold, you had to admit, and a very blunt manner of speaking to say the least. He didn’t mince words when it came to people he didn’t like, and that was something that you admired. He spent so much money on you, too; you couldn’t understand why. Satoru insisted that he was merely giving you what you deserved, but some of the gifts had been of the more sentimental and intimate variety, like the custom made locket necklace he had made for you, when you had mentioned your grandmother had one just like it.

Suffice it to say, you had feelings for him, strong ones. But a small part of you had doubts, which would creep up just when you had mustered the strength to tell him. Satoru Gojo was a beautiful, strapping young man, perfect in nearly every way. How could he ever see you as anything more than a friend?

You snorted. “If I don’t get this in I’ll fail and I’ll have to repeat the whole year, and that’ll set me back. I need to make something of myself, Toru.”

He rolled off the couch and strolled over to your desk, placing his hands on your shoulders. “What if you took a break though? Just for tonight? C’mon, I miss you.”

You looked over your shoulder to see glimmering big blue eyes peering at you, a soft pout on Satoru’s lips. “You’re such a child,” You sighed, but relented for now. After all, he was here and he was doing nothing but distracting you. And a break did sound nice. “Fine. What do you wanna do?” You asked, resting back in your desk chair.

“Something fun.”

“Like…?”

“Iunno, let’s go out! Let’s see what’s playing at the theatre or if they got my favourite cake back in stock at the shop!” He pulled you out of your chair, grinning.

“Oh, of course.” You rolled your eyes, but you did enjoy seeing him smile. He was annoying as hell, but you had to admit…it was kinda cute. You stood, going to grab your keys. “Or, we could go stock up on snacks, find some dumb movies, come back here and stay up til 4 AM.” You suggested with a smile. Satoru’s smile widened and he grasped your hand eagerly.

“Yes! You’re a genius, Y/N! Let’s go!” He started to pull you toward the door.

“Hah, I love you, Satoru, you dork.”

He froze in place, looking back at you with huge eyes. “Wha?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You said you love me.”

“I did?” You looked confused.

“Yeah, you did.” He turned and smooshed your cheeks in his palms. “Do you mean it? You’re not just pulling my leg, are you? ‘Cause that would be beyond cruel, Y/N. I have a heart too, y’know!”

You chewed on your lip, heat rising in your face. You did love him. He was an idiot, but you didn’t want him to be anyone else’s idiot. Slowly you nodded, placing a hand over one of his.

His blue eyes softened and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “Tell me again.” He murmured.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.” You replied in a whisper, your eyes half-lidded but still locked on his.

Without second thought his lips met yours and he kissed you tenderly, his fingers tucking through your hair. You swore you could hear his heart thudding in his chest. When he pulled away, hesitantly, he smiled and grabbed your hand again.

“Dunno if we’re gonna be watching all too much of the movies,” He said with a wiggle of his brows. “But we can still try, I’m a good multitasker.” He looked back at you, his grin widening. “And, in case it wasn’t obvious, Y/N, I love you, too. I always have.”

Dabi / Touya Todoroki

(I love him sm, he deserved so much better... :( )

You were busy doing your university homework when you heard a tap on your window. Yep, it was 3 AM, about that time. Without hesitation you got up and went to the window, sliding it open.

Hazy blue eyes met yours as booted feet landed on the floor. “Thought you were gonna leave me out here to fuckin’ freeze.” Dabi said, grumbling as he maneuvered his way in.

“I came here as soon as I heard you,” You argued back. Never a thank you from Dabi, even though he had been crashing at your place for the past six months. You both had met almost a year ago, when the League of Villains had crossed your path on your way home from work one night. Their leader, some guy with a hand on his face, wanted to kill you in case you were gonna narc on them, but for some reason, a couple of the others in the group had stopped him. Dabi wouldn't stop staring at you that night.

Since then he'd show up at your place every night around 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning. He claimed it was because the cops and heroes would never suspect him to be hiding out in a random civilian's home, but you were somewhat suspicious of the validity of that. After all, he'd said it'd only be for a couple weeks and here you were six months later.

“Is your hot water back on again?” He asked casually, kicking off his boots. “I fuckin’ smell.”

“What kind of trouble did you get up to tonight?” You asked, wrinkling your nose. “You smell like a lawnmower.”

Dabi snorted. “None of your damn business, brat.” His words were harsh but his tone was almost tired. “Is it on again or not?”

You nodded, “Yeah, it's on. Washed the clothes you left the other night, too.”

Once again, not a thank you in sight as he went off to your bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You sighed. What were you doing? Why were you going to all this trouble for someone like him? You could just as easily lock your window and cut him off, but you didn't want to. A part of you felt that he needed someone to help him, be there for him. You could tell it was hard for him to show any sort of emotion other than gruff and bothered…and you could sense he had more pain and heartbreak than most people realized.

You went back to work on your homework, quietly writing away in your notebook. You tried to ignore the sound of the bathroom door opening and Dabi walking down the hallway.

Warm breath fanned across the back of your neck suddenly and you shivered in response.

“Why do you bother with this crap?” Dabi asked, leaning over your shoulder. He smelled like your body wash. You tried to hide the telltale blush growing on your face.

“Counter question. Why are you here, Dabi? It's been six months.”

“You know why, dumbass.”

You turned in your seat. “You're here every night now, you use my shower, sleep on my couch, eat my food, and I don't get any sort of appreciation or even a thank you. I'm harboring a fucking criminal in my apartment and you don't seem to be bothered.”

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Yknow I could ask the same of you. Why do you keep letting me in, then? Washing my clothes, too, getting me those snacks I told you I like…why do you fuckin seem to care so much?!”

“Because I'm in love with you!” You blurted suddenly, hands balled into fists.

Dabi stood there, stunned. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You really are nuts, then.”

You breathed out a laugh, tears stinging your eyes. Turning back to your work, you tried to focus on your writing again. “Just leave me alone, Dabi.”

“Nah, don't think I will.” A hand slid along your shoulder. “Put that shit away and look at me, for God's sake.”

With a heavy sigh, you did as he said, only to be met with rough lips on yours. A sound of surprise escaped your throat but you melted into the kiss, fingers finding Dabi's damp black hair.

“There's a million places I could hide out,” he said against your mouth. “But I keep coming back here. Something pulls me back every time. I've never felt what love is, brat, but when I think of what it must feel like, I think of you.”

Giyuu Tomioka

(T_T i just wanna hug him and give him the love he deserves)

You had never seen Giyuu smile in the time you had known him. You two were close friends, but time spent with the Water Hashira was quiet and tranquil. You knew it was just the way he was, and didn’t mind it, but you had begun to wonder if he ever smiled at all. In the time that you had known each other, you had formed a deep bond and understanding of one another. It took you a long time to realize that you had feelings for him, but you could never tell him. It would ruin everything you both already had.

You two were returning from a mission one night, battered and exhausted from the fight you had just endured, and were intent on finding some place to sleep for the night. Ubuyashiki’s mansion and the Butterfly Manor were too far away, so it seemed like the only option for you both was to find an inn to rest in for the night, and then you could return properly the next morning.

You both finally found a place to stay for the night, but the owner of the inn charged you two an exorbitant amount of yen to stay. Giyuu huffed and, irritated, paid the man, before leading the way to your room silently. He had been dead silent the whole time you had traveled back, and this time, you were worried. Normally he would ask if you were okay or if you needed anything, but this time he was quiet.

“…Are you serious?” Giyuu asked, to nobody in particular, when he opened the sliding door. Only one futon.

You looked over his shoulder at the room and sighed. You had been looking forward to just going to bed after the hell you two had been through.

Giyuu sighed and ran a callused hand over his face, his blue eyes narrowed.

You glanced at him. “…Giyuu…You take the futon, I can just…figure something else out.”

“No.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor after what we just went through. We’ll just have to…sleep together, I suppose.” He looked away quickly, a small blush on his face.

“Sleep together?”

“Not…not like that,” He replied quickly, his face turning from pink to full-blown red. “Just…just sleeping. Beside each other.”

“If you’re okay with that, Giyuu, then I am.” You offered him a small smile, momentarily placing a hand on his arm as you entered the room. He was incredibly tense.

You both bathed first, one at a time, then returned to the room. Giyuu had gone first, and when you came back, he was perched on the futon, his haori and Demon Slayer Corps uniform folded neatly on the floor with his nichirin sword laid atop. He still had his underclothes on, but his torso was bare. You paused, studying his bare back and the various scars that adorned his pale skin. Your heart hurt when you suddenly realized how much Giyuu must have been through. Was that why he was so quiet, and distanced himself from everyone else?

“You’re letting all the cold in,” Giyuu said suddenly, startling you.

“Oh. Right. Sorry…” You quickly shut the sliding door behind you, setting your own clothing down on the floor before crawling under the thick comforter and settling on the futon. It felt heavenly to finally rest your weary, sore muscles.

Giyuu watched you for a moment before following your lead, settling in beside you. His blue eyes scanned your face.

“…What?” You asked, “Did I miss a spot of dirt on my face or something?”

“No,” Giyuu replied, a small tinge of pink rising in his face.

“Giyuu…”

“I’m…going to sleep. Goodnight, Y/N.” He said quietly, starting to roll onto his other side, so he would be facing away from you. You caught him by the arm, however, stopping him.

“…Have you been doing okay, lately? You’re way quieter than usual…I’m getting a bit worried about you.” You told him, your eyes meeting his again.

The Water Hashira sighed, “…I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“You.”

“Me?” You looked surprised. “Why?”

“…Because you terrify me.” He replied, and if you hadn’t seen the look on his face you would have thought he was joking.

“…Why?”

“It…doesn’t matter. Let’s just go to sleep, okay.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

Something came over you then. You didn’t know what it was, but you acted without really thinking it through first. Your hands cupped his face and you gently kissed him. It only lasted for a moment, but when you pulled away, Giyuu was looking at you with wide, stunned eyes.

His mouth moved, trying to form words, but nothing came out. “Wha…”He finally gasped out. “Why’d you…”

“…Because I love you, Giyuu. And I didn’t want to say anything because I was worried that it would ruin everything, and I’m sorry if it has, I just couldn’t—” You were cut off by another kiss, one instigated by him this time.

You gazed at him in surprise.

“You terrify me,” Giyuu said, holding your face in his hands. “Because I feel things for you that have been foreign to me for so long. I was…too afraid to say anything.” His lips pulled into a small but genuine smile. The first smile you had ever seen from him.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

#pls enjoy! #bnha #mha #jjk #kny #demon slayer #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #jujutsu kaisen #kimetsu no yaiba #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu x reader #bnha x reader #jjk x reader #kny x reader #mha x reader #demon slayer x reader