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#burn (2019)
jealousjersey · 16 hours
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₊⊹ ꕤ˚large and in charge ⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹
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pairing ★ sub!josh futturman x dom!reader blurb
synopsis ★ yours and josh’s relationship has gotten bland, and when you suggests pegging, it takes a big turn.
warning ★ pegging, cumming, no gender specific reader, mentions of rough patches in relationship, begging, moaning, thrusting, penetration with toy, toy use
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dating josh futturman wasn’t the worst thing in the world…you loved him. and he loved you, but your sex life wasn’t ideal, you were ultimately tired of how vanilla things have gotten. so whose gonna blame you if you suggest something…uncomfortable ;)
“baby, i was thinking we could…try something different. you’ll think it’s weird but i’ve looked it up and it’s not! many people do it! and i was thinking that we could…try it and see if it works for us…” you say nervously to your boyfriend, placing kisses on his shoulders, specifically focusing on his freckles
“well what is it” he replies hesitantly, knowing you could say anything
“uhh, have you heard of…pegging? like me fucking you?” you say, almost stuttering.
“uh…yeah i’ve heard of it…is that something you’d want to do?” he asks, completely open to the idea of it. something about you being in charge this time really does it for him. he’s always thought about it this way…him being a sub for you, it’s mainly the theme in his mind when he masturbates.
“yeah..yeah i do. are you up for it?” you ask. he nods his head eagerly, showing you how much he wants this. you never expected him to be so…open to this. it almost made you want to take him right there…but the equipment is needed first.
“okay, do you wanna look for one with me? we can order a strap on from amazon.” you say, motioning him to lay down with you. you hold him close to you as you open amazon on your laptop.
“does this one look good?” you say pointing at the screen, showing a pink translucent dildo with sparkles implanted into the silicone. it’s no huge dildo by any means, maybe a 6 inch. you wanted him to be comfortable his first time, and not just shoving a 12 inch in him.
be nods his head, his arms sill wrapped around you and head buried in your chest. “yes, that one is good” he whispered, looking almost embarrassed by the action of looking for one.
“i’ll order it baby” you place a kiss on his red cheek, flushed with embarrassment. your kiss, this simple soft gesture melts his nerves away.
friday
the day comes, you get a notification that a package is on the front porch. a decently sized white parcel with a sticker showing your address, the sender shows the person you ordered it from. it’s finally here.
you rush inside and go to your bedroom, opening the package, accidentally waking him up. it doesn’t matter how much sleep he gets, he can always manage to get more.
“it’s here? already?” he says, wiping his eyes away from the sleep and yawning. but as he sees it in your hands, the translucent pink dildo, his face turns a deep shade of red.
“mhm…you ready?” you ask, excitedly. you tried to act nonchalant about it but god it was hard when you’ve wanted to do this for so long.
“yeah…i’m ready.” he says, sitting up in bed, his hair messy and his eyes partly closed with sleep apparent in them.
directly on the beat, you get lube from the front drawer and slide it around the dildo, josh can’t help but get hard at the sight of this. he almost wishes you were doing that to him.
“take your pants off and get in doggy style” you say to him, trying to sound as seductive as possible but he can’t help but laugh.
“god don’t say it like that” he chuckles, but he does. his ass looks so good like this. you spread some lube on your fingers and insert them into his hole, something about the way it clenches around your fingers makes you shiver with excitement.
“that feel good?” you ask, pumping another finger inside him, watching his dick gradually get harder as it touches his stomach, still in the same position.
“mm…cold” he whimpers. “getting hard…put the toy in please” he begs, he looks so cute like this. scared and cold just waiting for your next move.
“gonna put it on slowly okay?” you say, reassuring him. all he can do is mumble as you insert the slick toy into his hole, feeling the way he flutters around it. he lets out a soft moan of pleasure.
“more….” he whimpers, and you obey. you push in more, almost filling him up completely, the sensation of being in control makes you so excited for this.
you push in deeper, hearing him grunt, moan, whimper. it all makes you wetter.
“m’gonna cum…please say i can cum please” he whimpers, dick hard against his stomach with precum leaking down his chest.
“just a little more, you’re doing so good josh” you encourage him. “such a good boy, taking my strap so well.” you coo.
your hips rut into his ass, the strap on hitting his walls as they clench around it.
“so tight…so good for me” you say, knees wobbling from the position you stand in.
“good boy, you can cum now josh” you say, pushing further into his hole, and with a loud moan. he cums, and god….youve never seen so much in your life.
his cum squirts out of him, leaking all over the bed, then pooling on the floor as it spills. god, he makes such a mess.
“such a good boy” you say as you pull out, a wet pop filling the room as his hole returns to its normal size.
“sorry…i made a mess…” he says, turning completely into a bottom.
you press a kiss against his lips and get a towel, wiping his chest as he lays on his back, his dick softening.
“don’t worry baby…did you have fun?” you ask. he nods eagerly.
your sex life just got a hell of a lot interesting.
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billy-2019 · 2 days
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back on the road again.
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legitclaptondavis · 3 days
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taps mic is this thing on?
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⋆。°✩ I'm the one and only Clapton Davis! give me sum time to get used to this platform
⋆。°✩ Riley practically begged me to get an account, so here I am! she also just said my blog looks atrocious, but I think it's pretty cool B)
⋆。°✩ A fun fact about me is that I ate 61 hotdogs in 3 mins, which I think says a lot about my pure and utter dedication to the grind
⋆。°✩ I love skateboarding, music, girls and guys, movies, and getting froyo [ specifically in that order ;) ]
⋆。°✩ I don’t rlly like dancing and conforming…and a couple of people, but i’m chill about it
⋆。°✩ Ask me anything!! or dm me? I could be in class tho :/
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Yolo!!
(- account run by 🦇 )
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jhutchismyl0verb0y · 13 hours
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Sheila pissed me off, but Suki Waterhouse is actually so stunning. And her music is amazing.
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lile6969 · 2 days
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HELLPPP
THESE ACCOUNTS PRETENDING TO BE JHUTCH CHARACTERS ARE KILLLIINNNNGGG ME 😭😭😭
(someone pls tag me if there’s more)
(ESPECIALLY CLAPTONNN)
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r04dk1llx2 · 2 days
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i hate kids but i need to have his babies.
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blue-sunflower-bee · 4 months
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Securitywaiter fandom!
Consider this... I NEED this Ness
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With this Mike
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Aka "Clumsy detective x even clumsier robber that is followed by bad luck"
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freak-accident419 · 5 months
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Good Looking Boy
Billy (Burn 2019) x GN!Reader
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Summary: You and Billy make your endeavor to escape. Then you’re faced with Melinda. But what will even happen after all of this insanity?
Word Count: 3.0k
Content: gender neutral reader, fluff, guns, attempted suicide(?), smoking, mentions of death
(A/n: thank you for all the support, thank you all so much for reading!!)
-
“You got it yet?” Billy asks.
“Yeah, yeah, hold on, almost there,” you reply hastily.
After a while, you two decided to find different ways to escape. After your conversations and laughter would die down, you’d realize the dire situation you two were in, getting back on track as you figured Melinda could come in any second now and cause more destruction.
You two came up with the idea of releasing your leg first, which was duct taped to the chair leg, because it was probably the easiest restraint to get out of. Your position was complicated because you were laying on the floor on your side, still stuck to the chair. You shimmied your leg, gradually removing its attachment from your pants, rolling the duct tape into a thin ring that you can slide out from the chair leg.
That was the plan, at least. You weren’t successful yet.
Until you began to see the tape begin to roll in on itself, becoming thinner and more flexible around your leg, unsticking from your pants. “Oh shit!” You gasp in awe, continuing to jerk your leg. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“What? Is it working?” Billy asked, trying to look behind him, but only able to see the back legs of your chair.
“Almost, it—” Your eyes widen as you keeping moving your leg, then tried to scoop the ring of duct tape out of the chair leg, stretching it until…
“Fuck! Yes!” You exclaim in delight, slightly panting from how much energy it took. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“You got it out?” He inquired urgently.
Your one leg was entirely free. Sure, it was a small victory, but it was a crucial step in getting out of here alive. “Yeah,” you replied, smiling. “Yeah, I-I did, now what?”
”Okay! Good! Alright. Good job, Y/n,” he says supportively. “Umm… Shit, now what?” He mumbled to himself in frustration.
Your other leg was still duct taped to the chair, but it was against the floor due to your position. There seemed to be no way to do the same thing you had previously done to get your first leg out.
“Um… Fuck…” you muttered.
“Maybe… Maybe we could try to break out of the zip ties. If a lot of force is used, you could potentially break it,” he suggested.
“Wouldn’t that really, like, damage our wrists or something?” You asked anxiously.
“At this point, it doesn’t fucking matter, yeah? As long as we get out of this goddamn chair,” he replied. “We should push our hands out in the opposite direction, one forceful movement by one. At the same time. And just keep repeating it until it hopefully breaks, or something.”
“Okay… Alright…” You agree.
“At the count of three…” he began, “One, two, three—”
You two jolted your wrists in the direction opposite from each other. Nothing happened. At least, not yet.
“Okay,” you breathe. “One, two, three—”
You do the same, quick motion again, using as much force as you could. Nothing yet, but you could almost feel that it was close to breaking.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself. “Alright. One, two, three.”
Another powerful yank, but still nothing.
“Okay, okay, we can do this,” you breathe. “We can do this. One, two, three—”
A snapping noise sounds as the white zip ties break, letting your wrists separate from Billy’s as you two gasp happily in relief.
“Yes! Fuck!”
The entire time, you and Billy were continuing to break out of each restraint. Billy let his single leg loose, and you two attempted to drag yourselves closer to the desk. Finally, you stretched your leg and used your shoe to drag the scissors off the desk, pushing it on the floor to your hands. It was finally in range and you grabbed it, first cutting the tape that withheld your upper arms and torsos, giving you enough reach to cut the other zip tie.
After a few quick moments, once you two felt free of all the restraints, you immediately scampered out from the chair on the floor in opposite directions, picking yourself up until you stood, completely and wholeheartedly free.
You two immediately turned around, looking down at the two chairs on the floor, then finally looking up at each other.
Billy was very attractive.
He was practically the epitome of handsome. Like, he wasn’t the most attractive guy in the entire history of them, but he was strikingly cute. The first thing you noticed was the burn on the side of his face, in which you then remembered he told you that it was Melinda’s doing. He wore a fleece jean jacket and light blue skinny jeans, and a small gold earring. And while you were falling for him as you had conversed, you felt like you were falling even deeper as you saw his soft brown eyes.
There was a bit of silence between you two as you just looked at each other. You had been stuck together for almost an hour, but you had already gained a mutual admiration for each other.
Billy didn’t expect you to be this attractive. Actually, he didn’t really expect anything, and neither did you. But he truly and indefinitely believed that you were beautiful. Probably the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.
He broke the silence by clearing his throat, walking over to you. He wasn’t very tall, but that sort of just added to his charm. He took out his hand. “Thought we should’ve had a proper introduction. I’m Billy.” You could feel his mannerisms be a bit rushed because you were still in the same building of a psychopath.
“I’m Y/n,” you shake his hand quickly.
“Nice shirt.”
“Nice jacket.”
Billy turns around, then looks at the lockers with intrigue. He slowly makes his way towards it, looking at each of the small vaults. As you watched this, your eyes trailed downward, seeing a long, dark green bag on the floor by the wall. Your attention was pulled away from it, however, as he brought his hand inside of one locker, seemingly grabbing something from inside it.
You felt your heart race as you saw the revolver in his hands. It was like he was able to sense your fear, because he tucked it into his pants immediately and walked towards you unthreateningly. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he claims. You nodded softly. You trusted him. Even though you only knew each other for such a short period of time, you two had told each other so much about yourselves. It was a weird shared trauma bond, that made you wish you met on different circumstances.
“How are your wrists?” He asks gently.
You present them to him. “They’re okay,” you answered. He took your hands into his, observing the faint bruise along the wrist that you broke out the zip tie with. His fingertips were soft on your skin, the brief contact making your face heat up, almost. You then move your hands under his to see the small indents on his wrists caused by the zip ties, rubbing over it softly with your thumb. You two look up at each other and chuckle softly, looking back down and coyly smiling to yourselves.
“We should—we should go,” you say after a while.
“Right. Yeah,” Billy says, letting go of each other’s hands then cautiously looking at the desolate, white door that would lead into the store. Before you could take another step towards it, it slowly opened by itself.
And Melinda her-fucking-self was behind it.
She had a look of shock on her face, as she didn’t expect to come back to her captives being free. Immediately, Billy took out his gun, pointing it at her, making her involuntary raise her hands up in surrender, placing his other arm in front of you, letting you stay behind him.
There was fear in Melinda’s watery eyes. She let out small sniffles as she looked at the barrel of the gun, then at you and Billy.
“I-I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” she stammered, voice cracking and tears gradually falling down. “You… You can take the money and go, it’s-it’s all there.”
You wondered what was wrong with her. What exactly drove her to do all this stuff. How she never called the cops on Billy and instead tie him up. How she tied you up because you witnessed it.
“This didn’t have to be complicated, Melinda,” Billy says sternly, a look of hatred and disgust towards her.
“I-I know,” she whispered.
“And… and you brought them into this for no reason too! They were fucking innocent, and you just had to bring them into this! I mean, I get that you would tie me up, I robbed you, but Y/n? Innocent.” He asserted. “You made me kill somebody, Melinda. I am not a killer, but you… you made me kill Sheila. You fucking made me kill somebody.”
“No, I- I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please. You can just go. I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry. The money is on the floor. Behind the counter. Just leave me alone, please,” she pleaded, continuing to cry. She then looked at you. “I’m sorry-I’m sorry I tied you up too, I was scared that you’d get the police.”
You sighed heavily and looked at Billy, relying on him for direction. But she continued on, making you look back at her again.
“I—I’m going to burn this whole place down.” She claimed. “I’ve covered the entire store in gasoline, just leave while you still can, p-please.”
“Why the fuck should I believe anything you say?” There was hostility in his voice. “Walk.” He ordered, waving the gun around, gesturing for her to walk back into the store.
Billy walks towards her as she goes backwards, with you following him. The neon blue lights of the store caressed your skin as you passed the door, completely leaving the employees only back room and being met with short aisles, composed of shelves filled with candy and chips.
“The money, it’s back there,” she pointed as you were now all in the center of the store. He looked at her with suspicion, slowly making his way to the front counter. You followed behind him, leaving Melinda with her hands up as Billy seemed to have found it, grabbing a black backpack and swinging it over his shoulders. Then, you two turned around to see Melinda, except…
She looked at you two with bloodshot, sad eyes, and an ignited lighter in her right hand. Shit. You looked down, and it appears she wasn’t lying, because gasoline coated the bottom of your shoes. “Okay, good, you can… you can have the money, just… just leave me now, please,” she begged.
“Wait. Let’s just… We can get you help, okay?” You offered, feeling a bit of sympathy for her. You knew she wasn’t exactly right in the head.
“Y/n, no,” Billy warned, looking at you sternly. “I honestly love how you continue to prove to me how much of a good heart you have, but Melinda? She is fucking crazy.”
“That’s why we should, I don’t know, get the cops, get her to a hospital—“
“Y/n. You don’t know what she’s done. Plus, we cannot get the cops involved. What are we gonna tell them, huh? What, are we gonna mention the fact that I was trying to rob the place? That it was my gun that fucking killed Sheila?” He stammered, which ultimately saddened you. “This woman is beyond redemption, okay?”
“So what? What, are we just going to watch her set herself on fire? Yeah? You’re really going to be okay with that?”
“Y/n, please. I don’t want to argue with you. It’s us or her. Do you see the goddamn lighter in her hand? She’s going to drop it any second and she is not going to wait for us, so we have to go. Okay?” He urged, grabbing onto your shoulder and leading you two to the backdoor, still pointing his gun at Sheila.
“Billy, wait,” you plead. “What if she’s just bluffing?”
“And risk catching on fucking fire, huh? We have no fucking time, let’s go!” He exclaimed, leading you out to the backdoor, your eyes meeting with Melinda before you were abruptly shoved outside.
It was freezing. Every exhale you took was visible in the cold air.
Billy closed the back door, moving the dumpster to block the exit. You two stood outside, a few feet away from the building, waiting for it to be set in flames. But it wasn’t. So either Melinda was truthfully bluffing or changed her mind. But you felt grateful, because you would’ve felt guilty if she hadn’t.
You took out a pack of cigarettes from your pocket, grabbing one from it, placing it between your lips and taking out a lighter from your other pocket. As you first exhale, you watch the back of the building. Nothing going on at all.
You weren’t sure what would happen after this. If Melinda would go to the police. If Billy would get caught and/or pay back his debt with the bikers. And what would you do?
You turn your head to look at Billy.
“May I…?” He trailed off, gesturing to the cigarette in between your fingers.
You chuckle under your breath then handed him it, watching him place it in his mouth and taking a drag. It was kind of silent. And it was still cold.
“Are you gonna go pay off your debt now?” You ask him softly.
You watched the smoke escape his lips as he nods. “Yeah. Then I’ll just… get the hell out of this fucking place…”
There was another moment of silence. An uncomfortable, uncertain silence.
“Will I… Will I ever see you again?” You ask hesitantly as he hands you back your cigarette.
He gives a low chuckle, offering you a gentle smile. “You’d really want to see me again?”
You hummed softly. “I feel like it’d be nice…” You say quietly. “Maybe when I’ll be getting gas again, you’re there to rob the store.”
He scoffed. “Y/n—“
“I’m messing with you,” you let out a small laugh. He smiles at you. You felt comfortable now. And you shouldn’t have been, because it was fucking freezing, but as cliché as it was, he was warming your heart.
He looked into your eyes deeply, which drove you to observe his soft face. You couldn’t exactly describe what his facial expression was or meant at this moment—until he expressed it with his words:
“Come with me, Y/n. Please.”
It was urgency. It was a look of urgency and desperation.
“I’ll pay off the biker assholes and then—then I’ll pick you up and we can leave together. Come on. How does that sound?”
“Billy, I—“ You were shocked. You didn’t want to throw your whole life out in this way. You were very fond of Billy, you could swear it, but this was too much. “I can’t, I… It’s just too… too crazy.”
“I-I understand. Completely. But fuck, I… I don’t want to lose you…”
You bit the inside of your cheek. You felt bad. You didn’t want to lose him either. Goddamnit, why did he have to be a damn fugitive?
“Somebody’s gonna have to work cashier number five for Macy’s, Billy,” you joke softly. You put out the cigarette on the snow and grabbed his hand. It was comfortable in yours, fingers fidgeting with each other, rubbing the skin tenderly. You rubbed your thumb over the gold ring that embraced his index finger, in which the metal was warm against your skin. “If we were in… another circumstance, maybe I would. But… I can’t just throw my life away like this. While you’d be starting anew, I’d be discarding everything I’ve ever known. I can’t sacrifice that for you.”
He nodded, staring at his hand in yours. He wouldn’t have thought you would have agreed anyway. He just had so much hope. Like his goddamn Marlboro, he wanted more of you. “Right… Okay, I understand,” he reckons dejectedly.
“I’m sorry,” you say warmly as you watch his thumb move across the back of your hand. You look back up at him.
“It’s okay,” he replies gently. “I hope I’ll see you again, Y/n.”
“Me too,” you add.
“Goodbye, Y/n. Thanks for… for getting us out of that shit hole. And… being a good person.”
Now it was your turn to scoff. “Give yourself some credit, dude. We escaped together. It was a team effort. And also… I think you’re genuinely a good person too. You were just… faced with unlucky predicaments.”
He grins appreciatively, letting out a small chuckle. He looked down at your hands that were in his, then back at you. “Bye, Y/n.”
“Bye, Billy,” you felt the warmth of his hands leave yours, making his way back to the front of the gas station to get to his car, leaving you there to stand alone in the cold…
*** A Few Weeks Later ***
If you had to do a rundown of everything that had happened ever since, then it would be simple—you got away with all of it. Melinda must have had permanently discarded all of the camera footage before police could get it. But as seen in the news, she was arrested for accessory to murder, then hospitalized from signs of mental illness. It seemed that she didn’t reveal much and ended up lying, because you never saw Billy’s face or information on any wanted posters.
Now you were at your job, working as a cashier, handing a woman her receipt after she paid for her items. She then left with her bags after chirping an expression of gratitude. Your head remains downward, sort of dispirited and not in the mood today. “Welcome, did you find everything alright?” You enunciate in monotone, yet with a slight endeavored cheerful tone, as you saw the figure of the new customer in your peripheral vision. You grabbed the single item that the customer placed on the counter and scanned it sluggishly.
However, you finally paid attention to your surroundings and realized what the purchase was: a Kentucky Wildcats cap. You let a sharp inhale, as the sports team only reminded you of…
You look up to see the customer standing in front of you. Your eyes widen as your breathing stopped.
You really couldn’t believe your eyes.
There was a smirk on his face as you felt a blissful smile begin to tug on your lips.
“‘Go Wildcats,’ am I right?” Billy recites.
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happy74827 · 6 months
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After Hours
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[Billy x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}
WC: 4,392 (whoops)
Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}
I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).
『••✎••』
You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.
Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.
The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.
It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.
You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.
You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.
But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.
"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"
The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.
You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.
You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.
You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.
You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.
As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.
You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.
You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.
After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.
Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?
You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.
It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.
You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.
You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.
You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.
The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.
You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.
The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.
You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.
Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.
You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.
You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.
"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"
There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.
You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?
You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.
"Can I help you?"
Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.
She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.
"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"
"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."
She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.
"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."
"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."
She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.
She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.
You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.
You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.
Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.
You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.
You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.
You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.
You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.
A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.
You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.
"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"
There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.
You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.
"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"
The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.
You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.
Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.
You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.
"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.
A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.
It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.
It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.
He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.
“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.
He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.
"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"
He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.
"What?" You asked.
He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.
You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.
He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.
He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.
“Jesus, what happened to you?"
He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.
His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.
You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.
"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."
"Did that… lady put you in here?”
"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"
He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.
"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.
"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”
“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."
He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.
"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"
You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.
He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.
"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."
"And if she finds us, what will she do?"
"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.
You gasped, covering your mouth.
"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.
"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.
"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"
"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"
"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.
"Just, hurry up," he urged.
"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.
After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.
"Where did you even-"
"Not the time," he interrupted.
He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.
Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.
"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"
You blinked, and nodded.
"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."
"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."
"Done with her?"
"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."
"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."
"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.
You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.
"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."
"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.
"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"
"Right," you said, nodding.
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.
"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."
"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.
Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."
He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.
"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"
He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.
"Don’t ask stupid questions,"
"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.
He rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Look, do you want my help or not?"
"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"
"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."
You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.
You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.
Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.
The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.
When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.
He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.
Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.
He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.
I guess he was telling the truth.
“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"
"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.
She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.
"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"
The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.
He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.
Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.
"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."
He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.
She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.
He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.
You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.
You did the only thing you could think of.
You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.
The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.
"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."
Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.
But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.
She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.
She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.
"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."
You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.
"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."
"Please," she whimpered.
He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.
Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.
He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.
You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.
Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.
"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."
She said nothing, just stared at him.
You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?
He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.
"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."
"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.
He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.
"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."
He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.
"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"
“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.
He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.
"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."
Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.
So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.
And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.
Your car will remain broken.
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So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.
I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.
Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨
(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)
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He so cute I wanna throw a rock at him
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stop-talking · 1 month
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How Jhutch characters would behave on a road trip:
Mike Schmidt
- Would drive through the night while everyone else slept; his sleep schedule is fucked anyway
- Insists on keeping the ac low/off to save gas. "Just roll the windows down" while going 80 mph on the highway
- Severe road rage. "WHY ARE YOU GOING 60 IN A 65??"
Josh Futturman
- Low-key scared of driving on the highway; probably wouldn't drive at all, honestly.
- Passenger princess. (Complete with a full pillow and blanket)
- He'd meticulously pack snacks and drinks though
Derek Danforth
- Doesn't understand the appeal of driving places; his private jet is so much faster.
- Would either pay someone else to drive, OR drive himself but keep dropping not-so-subtle hints that he's "never had head while driving" and "wonders what that's like"
- Fucking hotboxes the car with either weed or vape. Annoying as fuck.
Clapton Davis
- Rides shotgun; probably doesn't have a license
- Crafted a playlist just for the trip, DJs the whole way there
- Extremely distracting though, puts a hand on your thigh while you drive.
Billy
- Doesn't let anyone else drive. His car is one of his few possessions and he treasures it, even if it's kinda a shitbox.
- "I'm not tired!!" (After nearly falling asleep at the wheel 6 times.)
- Sings along to the radio as he drives even though he's really bad at it.
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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
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Repentance
Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader
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('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)
Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)
Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')
Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.
                            -¤°》◇《°¤-
Have you ever killed a man?
I might.
Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.
How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?
I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.
Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?
Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.
Goddammit.
Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.
"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?
"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.
"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.
"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.
"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.
"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."
It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.
Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.
...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?
It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.
"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.
No response.
Maybe it's safe.
Maybe he's dead.
Maybe he'll stay quiet.
I lay my head down once more.
"...what?"
"You fucking snore."
"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"
"Yeah, let me sleep."
"Sleep is for the weak."
I am weak. I am very, very weak.
"Put your dick away."
"It isn't out."
"I can still feel it."
With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.
With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.
I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.
"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.
"I followed blanket," he slurs.
"It's mine."
"I was cold."
"You snore."
"I've offered consolation, you should take it."
"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.
"Fucking what?"
"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.
Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.
"...no?"
"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."
Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.
"... should I go back to bed?"
"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."
"That's a great idea."
"I'll take the blanket."
"You do that."
It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.
When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.
"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."
Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.
"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."
He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.
"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.
My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.
"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.
"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.
"William, I will not shoot you."
"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."
"Willy-"
"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."
"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"
"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.
"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."
"I know, I packed lunch too."
Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.
"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."
"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.
"I'm not answering that."
Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.
"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.
"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."
"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.
"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.
If this is repentance, he should snore more often.
I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.
His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.
"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."
I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.
"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."
Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.
His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.
"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.
"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.
"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"
Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.
"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.
"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.
His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."
I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.
"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.
"Yes," I say just as soft.
"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."
His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.
Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.
"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."
He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.
"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."
"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."
That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.
"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.
"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."
At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.
"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.
He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."
He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.
"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."
I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.
Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.
"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"
I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.
"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"
I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.
"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.
"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.
"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?
"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."
His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.
"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."
Moo, bitch. Moo.
With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.
"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.
It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.
                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎
After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.
You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.
Taglist:
@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
Masterlist
204 notes · View notes
billy-2019 · 2 days
Text
Howdy. Care for a smoke?
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no? good, cause i’ve only got one left.
It’s nice to meet ya, i’m Billy. I don’t really know how to work this goddamn site.. but a friend of mine said I needed to get some actual friends instead of enemies. Be patient with me, i’m more used to workin’ stealing then I am tryin’ to understand technology.
Don’t hesitate to ask me somethin, i’ll do my best to answer. Cant guarantee i’ll have the answer you want though. Don’t pry into my life, don’t ask for money, don’t ask about my job. That’s all I ask.
I uh… I don’t know what else you want from me.. I guess i’m into.. country music? rock? I like goin’ places, don’t really like stayin’ home. Cars are pretty cool.. and I fuck with pretty much anythin’ country-like, I suppose. Not a big fan of gas stations.. or motorcycles. Fuck bikers. Fuck debt. And fuck you. maybe.
Kay, I got nothin’ else, bye.
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Ran by @r04dk1llx2
have fun with him <3
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sleepyhutcherson · 2 months
Text
whiplash smile
where billy surprises you with a clean house, flowers, and a… meal.
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pairing: billy (burn, 2019) x gn!reader
word count: 1.6k
contains: (request) smoking, established relationship, fluff, reader is having a rough week, billy tries to cook…
a/n: first time writing for billy <3 thank you for the request anon!! >ᴗ< ive been so obsessed with billy aaa. title inspired by billy idol’s album idk i feel like billy would listen to him lol.
You were having a tough week due to some family issues, Billy picked up the way your mood dropped and decided to do something nice for you while you were away for a few hours.
After dealing with your family for nearly three whole hours you return home completely exhausted, wanting nothing more but to be in your boyfriend's presence. You barely stick the key into the door when the door swings open, the man you so desperately craved standing on the other side.
“Hey, beautiful,” Billy greets with a grin, cigarette between his lips moving up and down at his muffled words. He opens the door enough for you to slip inside your shared home.
The house is clean which is a bit of a surprise. Before you left there was a mess: clothing pieces scattered in different areas of the house, several beer bottles and caps on the table along with other things. You weren’t usually untidy, you liked to keep the house well maintained but your issues with your family just brought you to a low.
“You cleaned the house?” You ask, taking off your coat and hanging it on the rack, slipping off your shoes next and setting them besides Billy’s boots. You were a little surprised honestly, Billy wasn’t the best at picking up, but you were impressed with his word and grateful for his effort.
“Yeah.” Billy replies, with a cocky look on his face. You can hear a familiar tune play softly in the background, you recognise it as one of Billy’s favourite songs. “What? No ‘thank you’? ‘You’re the best boyfriend ever’?” He asks, bringing your attention back to him.
You realise you haven’t said thank you now that he’s mentioned it. You move towards your boyfriend, who immediately puts his cigarette out knowing your next move, and cup his face, his hands moving to your hips to keep you close. “Thank you, you’re the best boyfriend ever.” You say through a smile, mocking his words.
Billy rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you closer to him. “Oh, is that how it is then?” He asks, cocking a brow, his hands travelling up to your waist. He loves to have your hands on his face, it’s oddly comforting to him. He leans down to kiss you, pressing his body up against yours. Your lips are familiar with each other, the kiss almost some kind of reflex.
For the first time ever he pulls away first. “I missed you,” he says, your noses brushing up. “Bad day?” He asks, his thumb stroking your sides where his hands still remain.
“Yeah,” you sigh, but you really don’t want to talk about it; you don’t even want to think about it either, right now you just need him. “But I don’t want to talk about it, is that okay?”
“Of course.” He kisses your lips again, a small pure kiss, your lips brushing against each other softly for a second. “Hey, stay here, I have something for you.” He makes his way towards the kitchen with a pace that tells you he’s clearly excited to show you whatever he has for you.
When he returns he has a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers in his hands, the colours bright, your eyes softening at the sight of Billy carrying them towards you. He was a complete softy on the inside despite how much he denied it.
“Oh, they’re beautiful!” You gush, taking them once he hands them to you, a soft smile plastered on his face, happy about your reaction. How was this the same man that blew up that gas station?
“Aren’t they? They reminded me of you.” You meet his pretty eyes, he never fails to win your heart, he always knows how to make you feel better.
You set the flowers aside and embrace the man in front of you. He was truly the best boyfriend—you weren’t mocking his words anymore. “Thank you,” you say, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, his stubble tickling you just a bit. You give him a peck on his neck before pulling away.
“Oh, that’s not it, sweetheart. I made you dinner.” He grins and your brows furrow—-Billy knew how to cook?!
Billy had never tried to cook before but he knew how to use the stove so he thought why not? How hard could it really be? He burnt himself several times but hey, the food he prepared was not burnt! That was surely a plus. Who knew if it was good, he didn’t taste it he hoped for your opinion first.
“You made dinner?” You question as Billy leads you to the kitchen where you see a pot on the stove that is definitely too small for the amount of spaghetti he made, the noodles and sauce overflowing, the pot and stove stained with the red sauce.
“I made spaghetti,” he says, his eyes searching for your reaction. “It’s not anything fancy… but I just wanted to make you something…” he mumbles coyly, feeling suddenly very needy for your approval. Actually, he always craved your approval and he partially hated that because he had never needed praise from anyone before but now he needs it from you at all times.
You smile enthusiastically. Sure the kitchen was a bit of a mess now but he very obviously tried his absolute best. He did this for you and that was enough to make you happy. “No, don’t worry, it’s perfect, baby.” You assure, looking up at him, meeting his worrying eyes. “Thank you, Billy. You really didn’t have to.”
He smiles, his worry suddenly cleared up once he heard your words. “Well, you deserve it.”
You kiss his cheek with a gentle smile. Thank fuck for wannabe cowboys like Billy, right? “Let’s eat then?”
Billy tells you to sit at the dining table insisting to serve you. You agree knowing Billy really wanted to do this for you and sit down at your small dining table. He pokes his head out of the kitchen then. “Do you want Coke or Pepsi? I wasn’t sure which you preferred while I was at the grocery store so I just bought you both.”
You blush at that and you feel sort of silly for doing so but it warmed your heart that Billy could be so thoughtful. “Pepsi is fine,” you say through a flustered smile. He nods, a cheeky smile on his face taking notice of the pink that tints your cheeks, before returning back to the kitchen.
He joins you at the table with two plates of spaghetti, a glass of Pepsi with ice and a bottle of beer for him. You notice when he sets the plate down how stiff the noodles look, like they haven’t been cooked long enough, but of course you don’t say anything.
Billy watches you, eager for you to eat his food. He spent time making this meal for you and he really hoped you liked it. He watches you pick up a bit of noodles with your fork, you stare at it for a moment, you smile at him and shove the forkful of noodles into your mouth.
It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either but…it was the thought that counted, right? The noodles were a little hard, not cooked right, and you could tell Billy hadn’t put any seasoning in it but…it was his first time cooking and he seemed proud of his work.
Once you swallow his food, you smile effusively at him. “It’s delicious! You did really well for it being your first time.” Billy felt pretty good hearing your words but honestly he was a little surprised, had he managed to make something good without following a recipe?
He takes a bite himself expecting his food to be delicious, like you said and the moment the food hits his taste buds his face scrunches up in disgust and it’s honestly adorable. He looks at you, brows furrowed, his mouth stuffed, the corners stained with sauce. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction and he spits his food out onto his plate.
“That is not delicious,” he tries to put on an angry expression but the corners of his lips twitch up. Eventually, he breaks into a smile, your laughter and smile winning him over. “How the fuck did you swallow that?” He asks, laughing a little now himself.
“It’s not too bad!” You insist, your cheeks hurting now by how much you were laughing.
Billy reaches for his napkin, wiping his mouth before taking a sip of his beer wanting to get rid of the taste of his own food. “That was horrible,” he says, setting his bottle down. “You could’ve told me before I took a bite, you little liar.”
You smile softly, your hand reaching over for him across the table. Your hands brush, his hands callous but warm against yours. “But you seemed so proud of your work.”
Billy chuckles. “But it was horrible, baby.” He tugs at your hand a little and you stand up, and like that he pulls you over to sit on his lap, your meals now ignored. You look down at Billy, your hands on his jaw, his eyes sparkling as he stares up at you. “But thank you for not being mean.”
You stroke his cheek with your thumb, his hands on your waist again, holding onto you. “I’ll help you with dinner next time, okay?” You say, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.
“Okay.” He mumbles with a dreamy look, mesmerised by the sight of you. He loved to have you like this, on his lap, your hands on his face. “You’re perfect.” He whispers, and you respond with a kiss, the best response he could ask for.
157 notes · View notes
laurrrelise · 12 days
Text
the hutcherson multiverse™ has a horror movie night
WC: 2.1k
Tags: just a fun little blurb (i guess it’s a sort of big blurb) (also would this be considered fluff? i have no clue), slight spoilers for Scream , Toy Story 3, and La La Land (can’t believe i’m actually saying this LMAO), mentions of sexual fantasies, Derek is a freak, alcohol, cursing, horror movie mentions etc.
idk why i wrote this to be honest i guess i just love the hutcherson multiverse / jhutchverse LMAO
—————————————————————————
Josh opens his front door, a beaming smile on his face. “Hey! You guys made it!”
Derek leans against the wall outside the door. “Fuck are you surprised for? We told you we were coming.”
Mike’s overwhelming admiration for horror movies is hidden beneath his typically scruffy demeanor. “What movie are we watching?”
“I don’t know, we have to decide. Peeta and Billy are already here, we’re just waiting on Clapton.” Josh steps to the side, allowing them to walk in. Derek pushes past without hesitation, Mike politely following behind.
Derek collapses onto the sofa, flinging his legs onto Peeta’s lap. “Hey, bread boy.” Peeta gives him a half-smile while Mike takes a seat next to Billy on the other side of the couch.
Josh gets the door as Clapton arrives. “Hey, party people! We got beer?”
Mike gives him a look of confusion. “No. And even if we did, you wouldn’t get any.”
“You know what we do have?” Josh excitedly walks in front of the TV, grinning ear to ear. “Tons of food! Wolf hooked us up.”
“Who the hell is Wolf?”
Peeta sits up straight, mouth agape. “You have a pet wolf? Katniss told me she saw one of those before.”
Josh shakes his head at him. “What? No. Wolf is a retired demolitions expert who’s also a genius in the kitchen. He made us a popcorn bar and virgin cocktails, since, y’know.” He looks at Clapton and Peeta.
“Dude, you’re such a buzzkill.”
Derek pulls a bottle of whiskey out of his jacket. “That’s fine. Can’t fucking catch me unprepared.”
Josh ignores him, continuing, “Just… try not to bother Wolf when he’s cooking. He gets really… focused. And violent, if interrupted.”
They all nod, and Josh grabs the TV remote to start deciding on a movie. “Alright, what are we watching?”
Derek smiles. “You guys ever seen The Poughkeepsie Tapes? Or Megan is Missing?”
“Hell no. We are not watching those,” Billy says firmly.
Clapton stirs. “What are they?”
“Too fuckin’ scary for you, that’s what they are.”
Clapton furrows his brows. “I don’t get scared easy, asshole. I’ve watched, like, every horror movie ever. With a straight face… except for those.”
“Hereditary?” Derek grins evilly.
Mike and Josh both look at him. “Absolutely not.”
“I hope you guys realize I’ll watch these as soon as I get home.”
“Whatever, as long as we don’t have to sit through your disgusted reaction.”
Clapton looks at him, slightly offended. “They can’t be that bad! I seriously never get scared. Have you seen Cinderhella? I didn’t bat an eye.”
Josh changes the subject. “Any other ideas? Ooh, what about Toy Story 3!”
Everyone stares at him, bewildered.
“What? That movie’s scary.”
“You mean the one with the big ass purple fucking bear? That one?” Derek asks, a laugh falling out with the question.
Billy and Mike practically fall over cracking up at his genuine fear of the children’s movie.
Josh frowns as he whines, “Yeah… Lotzo.”
“You’re fucking scared of Lotzo?” Billy can barely breathe between his laughing.
“That’s not fair! The scene where they’re falling toward that big fire pit thing is terrifying!”
Clapton snickers at him. “Dude, you’re such a dumbass.” Derek fist-bumps him in agreement.
“And you guys are all bullies. Peeta, can’t you back me up?”
Peeta just stares at him, wide-eyed. “I’ve never seen it. It sounds scary.”
Josh whines at him. “It is!”
Peeta shrugs as everyone else continues to laugh at him.
“Alright, then someone else recommend something.”
Derek smiles. “How about-”
Billy cuts him off. “Derek, shut the fuck up.”
“How about we just watch some stupid 80’s slasher?”
“Like what?”
Clapton drums on his legs, clearly bored with the lengthy decision process. “I don’t know, Child’s Play.”
Peeta looks at him. “What’s that about?”
Clapton turns to him, giving him a puzzled look. “Have you never seen a movie? Like ever?”
Peeta shrugs nonchalantly and Clapton turns back to the TV. “Nightmare on Elm Street?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Dreams are important. Shouldn’t be mocked.”
Clapton rolls his eyes. “Friday the 13th?”
Derek shakes his head. “That one’s just boring. Absolutely not.”
“… and why is it boring?”
“Because I said so.”
Josh continues to scroll through a page of endless horror movies. “What’s this one?” He clicks on one titled Tragedy Girls and watches the trailer.
“Hey, dude, that guy totally looks like you.” Billy points at a man on the TV screen, then at Josh.
“He does no- actually he kinda does.”
There’s a moment of silence. “He kinda looks like you, too.”
“You think so?”
“Wait, he looks just like Derek, too!”
“Yeah, like a clearance version.”
Josh finds the coincidence too weird and clicks off of the movie. He continues scrolling.
“Is that Vantage Point? Why is that in the horror section?”
Derek’s eyes go wide. “It uh… sounds pretty scary to me.”
“Wait, is that the one where the president gets assassinated?” Josh looks back at Mike curiously.
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure it’s action, not hor-”
Derek cuts him off. “We’re not watching it.”
Mike senses the sudden discomfort and changes the subject. “Blair Witch Project?”
Everyone unanimously groans in agreement.
“I give up. You guys pick.”
“Wait, I got one!”
Everyone looks at Peeta. “It’s called La La Land.”
Josh furrows his brows at him. “That’s not a horror movie, that’s just a sad romcom.”
“But they lose each other in the end. I mean, could you imagine? I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”
Billy and Clapton give him a sad look. “It doesn’t count as a horror movie.”
“Man, you’re so fuckin’ lame.”
“Detention?”
“No.”
“Five Nights at Freddy’s?”
“Nope.”
“For the love of god… Scream?”
Everyone exchanges glances before they all shrug.
“Alright, we’re watching Scream then.”
—————————————————————————
A few minutes into the movie and Mike speaks up. “Hey, that guy kinda looks familiar.”
“Who? Stu Macher?”
“Yeah, I can’t really place why, though.”
“Maybe Matthew Lillard just has one of those faces, y’know?”
“Maybe…”
Josh lights up suddenly. “We knew a guy named Stu a little while back, he was seriously crazy.”
“Who the fuck is we?”
“Oh! Me, Wolf, and Tiger. Tiger actually fell in love with Stu for a little whi-”
“Tiger?”
“Yeah. Tiger.”
Billy looks at Derek, who rolls his eyes before they both decide to drop it.
“Yeah, Stu was crazy though.”
“Well, Stu Macher is pretty crazy too, right?”
“Hey! Don’t spoil it! Peeta’s never seen this movie before.”
“It’s an obvious twist. He’ll be fine.”
“I don’t even know what’s going on so far.” Peeta looks at the TV, clearly confused by the plot.
“I think all guys named Stu must be at least a little insane.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Josh lays back on the floor in front of the TV.
—————————————————————————
A few more minutes pass. Billy stirs, readjusting himself on the couch.
A few more minutes. Billy once again readjusts.
Finally, “Alright, I’m fuckin’ bored. Let’s do shots.”
Derek fist bumps him. “Oh, hell yeah. I’m in.”
“Um, what about the two children?”
“Children?” Peeta furrows his brows at Mike.
Clapton sits up, gaping at Josh with an offended look on his face. “I’m 19!”
“Yeah, so am I.”
“You guys are the youngest. You’re going to be kids to us no matter what.”
“Fireball good with everyone?”
“Works for me.
“I got work tonight… but sure.”
Josh looks up. “Hey, how are you guys all getting home? I don’t want anyone driving under the influence.”
“It’s one shot dude.”
Derek smiles. “It’ll turn into seven. I’ll call my driver.”
“This is so unfair.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “It’s nothing personal, kid. You can drink all you fuckin’ want in a few years. Be patient.”
“Oh, like none of you drank before you turned 21.”
Billy shakes his head, standing up to make his way to the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later with a small tray and 6 shot glasses filled with amber-colored liquid, plus a few beers.
Clapton lights up when he gets handed one. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Peeta cringes but reluctantly takes it.
Derek, Josh, and Mike take theirs before Billy grabs the last one and they all huddle around the coffee table.
“On three, alright?”
Everyone nods. “Three… t-”
“One, bottoms up.” Derek throws his back, not even flinching.
Everyone else takes theirs, and Mike and Josh wince with the strength in the taste of the liquor. “How can you do that without even making a face?”
Derek chuckles. “Are we just fucking meeting for the first time, Mike?”
Billy watches Clapton’s face as he realizes that his shot was actually apple juice. Peeta lights up, smiling with excitement. “Dude!”
“Is that juice? We only got this stuff in the Capitol. Can I have another?”
“You’re an ass, you know that?”
Billy ignores Clapton and grabs the bottle of apple juice from the kitchen.
Peet’s takes it, sort of confused. “… where’s the… cup?”
Billy waves him off, twisting the cap off of a beer. “Knock yourself out, kid.”
Peeta smiles and throws the cap off of the bottle, chugging it eagerly. Everyone else takes their reserved spots again and continue watching the movie.
Derek squints at the screen. “’m gonna get one of those masks after this.”
Josh gives him a confused look. “…Why?”
“You planning on going on a murder spree? I can add some names to your list.”
Derek looks at Billy. “No, I’m just imagining, like, bringing someone to my room while I’m wearing all black and one of those and then sneaking up behind them and ripping-”
“Dude!”
Derek pauses. “Don’t fuckin’ interrupt me, that was a good idea.”
“There are two kids sitting next to you.”
“I’m 19! Stop calling me a kid!”
Peeta shrugs. “Y’know what? I actually don’t mind. It would be nice to be a kid again.”
“They’re not kids. They know what sex is.”
Clapton sinks into the ground slightly. “Yeah, obviously I know what it is.”
“Katniss and I are taking it slow.”
Derek looks at Mike. “See?”
“It doesn’t matter. No one wants to hear about your weird sexual fantasies.”
“I didn’t think it was weird. That sounds hot.”
Derek looks at him excitedly. “Right?”
Billy nods, taking a sip of his beer. “For sure.”
“Alright, you two talk about that stuff later. The rest of us don’t want to hear about any of that.”
“I don’t mind. I need all the tips I can get.”
Clapton furrows his eyebrows at Peeta. “I don’t think Katniss would want you to seduce her in a horror movie mask.”
“Why not?”
“Because that isn’t a normal sexual interaction. Derek is just… uh… very experienced.”
“Damn right I am.”
“Well… what is a normal sexual interaction?”
Derek smiles, sitting up and crossing his snakeskin boots in Peeta’s lap. “I’ve got so much to teach you. Alright, first, be aggressive. Girls like that. You want to alway-”
“How about we just watch the movie?”
Derek scoffs, rolling his eyes and melting back down against the couch. “How about we take another shot?”
—————————————————————————
They eventually finish the movie, but Derek and Billy are fairly intoxicated by the end of it. Derek calls a car to drive them all home.
Billy tends to forget about personal space when he’s drunk. “Thanks for having me, buddy,” he practically yells as he leans against Josh, his mouth brushing his ear.
Josh pats him on the back, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah… no problem, man.”
“See- mph. See you tomorrow, Joosh.” Derek stumbles slightly as he walks out of the house.
“What? To- tomorrow?”
Derek nods, not turning back as he walks down the driveway. “Yeah, we’ll be back tomorrow.” He gets into the dark limousine, Billy following behind him.
Peeta and Clapton stand in the doorway, Mike still putting on his boots.
“We get to ride in a limo?” Clapton grins.
“Actually, I’ll uh… I’ll call you guys an uber. There’s no way in hell that they aren’t about to go to a bar.”
“Goddamn it,” Mike appears behind them, watching as Derek’s head hangs out the window like a dog as the car drives off.
“Tomorrow, Futturman!”
Josh signs. “Goddamn it is right.”
—————————————————————————
thanks for reading! this was so stupid but it’s just fun to create the jhutchverse so let me self indulge please :)
(this is a late update but i just remembered @xcherryerim wanted to be tagged in jhutchverse stuff, here you go monica, ly <3)
also i know this is barely about the actual movie and more about the banter but that’s the fun part so i don’t care 💀 sorry if you wanted to hear me talk about scream (i’ve actually never seen it but i know the general plot don’t kill me)
have a good day babes <3
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justthirsty202 · 5 months
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as much as everyone wants to deny it, about 99% of josh hutcherson’s characters are bottoms, including josh hutcherson
ill die on this hill, fight me 🤷‍♀️
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