It Feels Like We’ve Been Apart For A Lifetime.

monamourani’s masterlist!

Here’s all my fan fictions so far! 💘 (my inbox is always open for any requests)

Anakin Skywalker

1. Hold Me (x reader; angst)

2. Only Mine (x reader; smut)

3. NSFW A-Z (imagines/blurbs; smut)

4. Keep Quiet for Me (x reader; smut)

5. Redemption (x reader; angst)

6. Protecting What’s Mine (x reader; smut)

7. Fluff A-Z (imagines/blurbs; fluff)

8. Better? (x reader; smut)

9. 19 Years Later... (Darth Vader x reader; angst, smut)

Kylo Ren

1. Redemption (Kylo Ren x Reader story on wattpad *CANCELED*)

Other:

1. You Are My Brother (mustafar duel alternative ending; angst)

2. Insecurities (Anakin x Reader x Padme; angst)

Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005) dir. George Lucas

MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU

hi bb! could I get a cute zach x reader fic? you can take this in whichever way you like but I was thinking some fluff like a movie night at Zach's or he teaches the reader to play video games? you can do it either way/come up with something of your own too! xxx

Slow Down; Zach Herron

a/n: hope you like it, queen!! 💘

You knocked gently on your boyfriend’s front door, feeling insecure in your leggings, your sweatshirt, and sneakers. You’d been to the boy’s house before, but this was still only your second time, and you’d never dressed so casually in front of Zach. Your relationship was still fresh- only 8 dates had happened so far- so you were still holding back parts of yourself you were afraid of him seeing. The lazy, messy part of you that some guys were turned off by.

You wrung the sleeve of your sweatshirt between your fingers. The door opened a moment after you knocked, drawing your eyes from your feet. Jonah, tall as a tree, stared down at you, a sleepy smile growing to his dark features.

“Hey, Y/N, good to see you.” Jonah swept an arm through the air and you walked into it’s path.

The house was noisy, as per usual. Lights were on all over, Corbyn and Jack were shouting over the shooting noises of a video game on the tv, music was streaming from the Bluetooth speakers, Tessa sat at the kitchen island. Daniel was probably out in his studio, and his brothers were strewn around the living room, watching Corbyn and Jack beat each other.

You felt so out of place in the group’s familiar Friday routine. Jonah could tell, harboring the same feeling of social anxiety, and gently touched your elbow.

“I’ll go get him, okay?” You’d been in Zach’s room, he must’ve not have been in there, because Jonah walked outside after you nodded.

You busied yourself with removing your sneakers. You squatted and gently set them beside somebody else’s shoes on the rack. You peaked around at the door and shut it all the way. Somebody finally spoke up when you turned back around.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Come sit,” Corbyn patted the spot next to him on the couch.

“Shit, sorry, we just completely ignored your existence,” Jack added on, laughing into his headset.

“No worries,” you smiled at everybody, carefully stepping over Christian’s legs to sit next to Corbyn.

“How ya doing, Y/N?” Corbyn glanced at you.

You folded your hands. “I’m okay, thanks. How are you?”

Corbyn went to answer when something happened in the video game and everybody yelled. That’s when you noticed Zach making his way across the room. He pushed Christian’s legs out of the way, earning a playful punch to the thigh. You stood up as he did, giggling at the laughter the two boys exchanged.

Zach threw his arms up when he laughed, one of his cutesy quirks that you had learned yet. His hands landed on you- shoulder and hip. He gently pulled you into his chest, your hands moving to his back.

“Hey,” he laughed in your ear, fingers moving to your back, but landing on your mini backpack.

“Hi,” you leaned away. His fingers slid down your shoulder and gently held your fingers.

He tugged you behind him, guiding the two of you to his room. “Sorry I didn’t answer the door. Daniel was having me record something.”

You shrugged, “No worries. I got a warm welcome from everybody.”

Zach sighed, letting go of you to shut the door. You sat on the edge of his bed. He said, “Yeah, they can be overwhelming at first.”

“No!” You disagreed. “They’re all really great. I like the energy.”

Zach smiled at you as he walked over to you. “You look very cuddly.”

Your anxiety settled in your subconscious, no longer a part of your worries. Instead, a blush painted your face. “We have never cuddled before.”

Zach sat beside you, setting a hand on your knee. “We don’t have to.”

“No, I want to,” you assured him, grabbing said hand and squeezing the knuckles. “I know you’re probably used to moving a little faster, but I’m just nervous. I’m sorry.”

Zach shook his head, carefully studying your eyes. He brushed the hair from your face, behind your ears, “I think I need to slow down anyways. With my career and looking back on my past relationships, I think it’ll keep me grounded. You’ll keep me grounded.”

Your stomach whirled with adoration. You found yourself leaning forward and kissing him. It wasn’t your first kiss- actually, it was your second. But it felt like the first. You hoped that feeling would stay.

Zach cupped your cheek, thumb just barely pushing your chin up into him. Your hands found his jaw, fingers molding between his hair. You kissed for a moment longer, and intended to keep going, but someone knocked at the door.

You jumped back from Zach, laughing from your naive fright at the sound. Zach pecked your lips and went to the door.

“Hello?” He opened it towards him, leaning against the door frame.

That was hot.

Jack waved from his side of the door. “Can y’all go pick up the pizza?”

Zach rolled his eyes, huffing. “Really? There’s, like, 10 other people here. Why can’t they?”

“Thought maybe you wanted alone time with your girl,” Jack shrugged. “Also, Jonah and Tessa just left, Daniel is busy, the rest of us are playing a game. Please?”

Zach obviously wasn’t going to argue with his band mate in front of his girl, as jack had put it. So he agreed.

Zach went to the closet as you waited on the bed, picking out a hoodie. He slung it over his head and sat beside you again to put on his shoes. As he did, you told him about something you did earlier that day. He was a good listener and conversation came so well between you two.

Zach stood up, offering you his hand. He pulled you up, purposefully tugging you close to his chest. He held you by the back and kissed you again. You giggled into his mouth, feeling his fingers squirm against your sweatshirt. He pulled away, to your disappointment, and looked at your sweatshirt with furrowed brows.

“No, this won’t do,” he tugged at the hem of your sweatshirt.

You looked at him with utter confusion, “Huh?”

He walked back to his closet, voice echoing from inside. “If you’re gonna be my girl, you gotta wear my sweatshirt.”

He settled back in front of you, holding out the hoodie.

You carefully grabbed it. “Is that you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Zach tipped his head at the sweatshirt, “Is that you saying yes?”

You answered by taking off what you had on and replacing it with a hoodie that the The Invitation Tour logo on it. You followed Zach out the living room again and sat down on the floor to put on your sneakers while he found his keys. He helped you off the floor, like in his room, and led you to the garage.

He opened your door for you like a gentleman, passing by with a sweet kiss. You let out a deep breath once you were settled in the seat, feeling a weight of emotions in your stomach.

Zach got in and then you guys were gone. The pizza place was ten minutes away, but they didn’t offer delivery because of COVID. And, of course, you forgot your mask. Zach just shrugged it off while you felt bad he carried two pizzas and a bag of 2 liters to the car. He put it all in the back seat before joining you again.

On the way back, Zach told you to put on music. Meanwhile, his hand sneakily found it’s way to your knee. He didn’t want to automatically place it upon your thigh, genuinely meaning what he had said earlier.

You wrapped your hand around his, letting your intertwined fingers rest in your lap. When you got back to the house, Zach didn’t allow you to carry anything again. As soon as the pizzas hit the kitchen counter, the boys went ravenous. Even Daniel appeared from his cave to get food.

You stood off to the side, feeling rude just diving in. Corbyn noticed you and automatically spoke up over the crowd of men.

“Hey! Guys, we should probably let Y/N go first,” he motioned to you.

Your face flushed and you felt your neck started to clam up. “Oh, I’m okay.”

Zach, who was caught up getting cups for everyone, sighed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told them to wait.”

“No, it’s no worries, guys. Please, go ahead,” you insisted again.

Daniel shook his head and handed you a plate, “No, Y/N, go ahead.”

You carefully took it and joined the hoard at the island. You took a single slice of cheese pizza and circled back to your spot.

Christian disagreed with your sad plate, “Oh, cmon. Get another slice, and some chips and a drink.”

You began to protest when they all spoke over each other, insisting. Daniel slapped another slice onto your plate, Corbyn held up two bags of chips in your face, and Zach had already poured your favorite soda into a glass. You tapped on the Dorito’s in Corbyn’s right hand and he poured some on your plate.

You had a restless, wide grin on your face the entire time. “Thank you so much.”

Everybody went back to being savages. Zach quickly got in and got out, leading you back to his room. He crawled across the bed and leaned back on his headboard. You carefully sat beside him as he turned on the television.

“You wanna watch that movie you told me about the other day?” He held out the remote to you.

Your mouth fell agape for a moment and then you nodded. “Yeah- uh, yeah.”

How was he such a good listener?

You found the movie on Netflix and put it on. Zach finished his food quickly, but you ate carefully and slowly. Zach simply layed out on the bed, waiting for you to finish. Once you were done, you stood up from the bed.

Zach paused the movie, “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Wanna give me your plate?” You held out your hand.

Zach jumped up suddenly, grabbing his plate and yours before walking out.. You caught up to his long-legged strides with protests.

“Zach!” You called after him, tugging on the back of his sweatshirt.

He finally turned around after he set everything in the sink. “Yes?”

You tried to glare at him, but his smile was so sweet, you broke into a grin. “I was gonna take them!”

Zach shrugged. “I got it, babe.”

You lifted a finger to point in his face, but froze when the pet name registered. Your face went red again.

Zach’s innocent smile turned even cheekier- if possible. He kissed your cheek and left you standing there. You followed him to his room, stopping him in the middle of the hallway. You tugged him around to face him, practically launching yourself into his arms as you cupped his jaw and kissed him. He held the curve of your back, leaning into the kiss.

You broke off, breathless, with matching smiles. “Wanna finish the movie?” You jerked your head in the direction of his room.

Zach nodded in a less than calm manner and followed you inside. He shut the door, splaying back in his spot on the bed. You carefully lay beside him, resting your head on his bicep, which he extended out beside him. His hand clasped around your shoulder and tugged you into his side. You got comfortable over the span of a few minutes, at first slightly stiff. When you were in position, your leg was tossed over his, your hands on his chest.

The movie ended and you began another before your breathing evened and your eyes couldn’t keep themselves open. Zach noticed and carefully shut off the lights and tv with the remote. He pulled the blanket at the end of the bed over you.

“Want me to take you home?” He whispered into your ear.

You hummed a disagreement back, curling further into him. “Is that okay?” You sleepily said.

Zach responded by kissing your forehead and mumbling a goodnight.

ilym 🥺🥺💓

HEYAAAAA so like i’m absolutely binging your fics and i can’t your writing is so good 😅 it’s inspiring and making me want to write again lol so thank you!

ITS INSPIRING???

Crying bc that’s so sweet 🥺🥺🥺 thank you for reading my work ily 😭😭❤️ and ty for your kind words my heart is so warm rn 🥰🥰🥰

Want to see some doodles of the bois?

ooo yes pls wutcha got

also send asks to @monamourcole instead i probably will forget to check my ask box here

GIRLIE THIS HAD NO RIGHT TO BE THIS HOT

I dont know if you are taking requests but if you are, could you please write something where reader has trouble masturbating, every time she tries she just CANT, so anakin (theyre just friends but they always had lots of sexual tension) helps her out and does it for her so she cums for the first time. THANK YOU!!!

A Dream Come True - Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader (smut)

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Wc: 5.4k

A low warmth is rising in your belly, pulled from the depths by your wandering fingers. They’re working against your clit, rubbing it side to side, faster and hard, trying so desperately to remain in that warm haze of pleasure you’ve spent so long building up. It feels good, but you need more. 

The many late nights spent with your girlfriends cross your mind, and how you would sit by idly during each one as they discussed their own personal affairs in the bedroom. You were the least experienced, but listened in awe as they told you the latest on what their partners have done to surprise them in bed. How they made them scream and shake, their eyes roll back into their head, and cum all over until they couldn’t take anymore.

You were too embarrassed to admit you’d never felt that way before. You thought you were broken.

Which is why you’re here, fingers glued to your hard nub, rubbing furiously to try and get yourself to feel something. You do feel something, but it’s not earth-shattering, leg-shaking, eye-rolling like your friends had described. Frustration fuels your movements as you attack your clit, holding your breath, forcing the warmth to build and build and build--

Nothing.

Your arm aches with the strain as you halt your movements, chest heaving when you allow yourself to breathe. Self-pity outweighs your disappointment as the subtle warmth dissipates, any pleasure that you had given yourself slipping away. 

Broken, a small voice whispers inside your head. There’s something wrong with you.

What other reasoning could there be to explain why you can’t feel good? 

Maybe, you argue, there needs to be something inside. That was always a big topic of discussion with your friends, how they “loved being filled.” Gathering your wits, you move your finger down, exploring your folds until you find your opening. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push a finger in, wincing at the sudden intrusion. 

It stings more than anything, but you’re desperate so you decide to give it a chance. You’ve tried this before, and it’s never felt like anything more than a finger inside of you-- which is exactly what it is. And now, this situation proves to be the same. You feel around, hoping to find that spot everyone raves about, but your fingers are too short and the angle is weird. You push your finger in and out like how you think you’re supposed to, and it feels like nothing.

Maybe you need two?

You let another finger join the one that’s already inside, struggling to get it in. 

Ow, you wince as your body rejects the intrusion. Your heartbeat picks up, a sudden anxiety joining the whirlwind of exasperation and discontent that has come from this situation. Is it supposed to hurt this much? The remnants of the need to satisfy yourself are still present, so you try again.

Making it back to your apartment had been a relief this evening, as all day you had been battling a relentless urge down below. You’re not too proud to admit that your… situation… had been a direct result of spending the day with Anakin, a good friend of yours who needed help finding a data entry in the corner of the Temple library. The entry supposedly had something to do with a cloaking mechanism for battleships, and when you had asked why he needed it when the Republic already had cloaking mechanisms, he mentioned that he was trying to translate the same technique to his own personal starship. No battlecraft as small as his has that ability, and with a ship as fast as his, it would give him a huge advantage on the battlefield. 

You could listen to him talk about it all day.

You virtually had, as the data entry was just one small piece of paper-- a piece of scrap blueprint scrawled on a fragile, worried edge of some larger text, worn with time. You spent hours searching all over for it. Once you had finally dug it out of a dusty box in the deepest corner of the library, Anakin had lifted you into the air effortlessly, swinging you around as he hugged you and laughed.

You had walked home with a damp spot in your underwear, an undeniable throb that needed to be relieved. 

He had no idea. No idea that his hands shot sparks up your spine as they closed around your waist. That his laugh turned your blood to lava, and his beautiful, smiling face made your heart skip a beat. He had no idea that he is the cause of your desperation, the reason you are torturing yourself by dangling an unknown pleasure before your face, knowing you can’t have it. 

You manage to sink your second finger in a little, but the sting is too much, and you have to pull them both out.

Broken.

The door to your apartment suddenly swings open, and you throw your sheets over your bare legs in a panic. Your eyes find the clock next to your bed-- Shit. You’d lost track of the time. 

The sound of those boots are unmistakable, and you find that praying you’re wrong is pointless when he calls out your name. 

“Y/n--?” Anakin rounds the corner to peer into your room, features lighting up when he finally finds you. Curious eyes roam over your figure, wondering why you’re in bed when it was barely evening. “Are you feeling okay?”

Your cheeks flame with heat, and you can’t find the words to explain yourself out of this situation. Mentally, you’re beating yourself up for losing track of time, especially since you knew Anakin was coming over tonight. While searching for the data log, you mentioned you had always wanted to try his favorite childhood drink-- ruby bliels-- and he promised he’d treat you tonight after you found the blueprint. It was his thank you gift to you, but now you needed to find a way to get him out of your apartment before he realized what was going on.

Your mouth hangs open like a gaping fish, and you know it’s too late. Anakin’s brain is as fast as his superhuman reflexes, and you can see the gears click into place as his eyes flit from your red cheeks, to the messy covers strewn over your legs, to the crumpled panties lying discarded on the floor. Your hand is even still frozen between your legs, your activities becoming clear as he senses the remnants of pleasure and disappointment still hanging around the room. 

“Oh…” is all he says, looking lost for a moment. You expect him to apologize and turn away, run out of the apartment and then never speak to you again. You wouldn’t blame him. Finding a friend in this position can never be a comfortable experience.

Instead a slow smirk crawls onto his face, and he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You need some help with that?”

You should have known. The smug little bastard-- of course he’d find this amusing. Your face grows impossibly redder, and you wish a black hole would just open beneath you already and swallow you up. Anakin finds your humiliation endearing, and laughs good-naturedly. 

“Alright, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to it,” he slinks out of the doorway, crooking his finger in the air to close the door after him. “I’ll be in the kitchen setting up for the bliels when you’re done--”

“Wait!”

You’re just as shocked as he is at the words that leave your mouth. He freezes in place, the door still open a crack. There’s too many thoughts running through your head right now, but the one that stands out the most has you pulling your hand away from your center, sitting up in bed so you can address him clearly. 

You never thought you’d be able to speak these words to him. For so long, you had wanted him in every way possible. But he’s a Jedi, unable to form attachments, and more than that-- a friend. A very good friend. And breaching the topic that you know you both feel for each other had the potential to ruin it all. 

But the minute he had opened that door, still dressed in that black leather armor, hair perfectly curled and messy, so tall and strong and devilishly handsome leaning against your doorframe-- he was beautiful, and you’d be a fool not to take advantage of his offering. Even if it might have been a joke. 

You had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t. 

“I… I do need help.”

There. You said it. And you’re pretty certain the only reason you could force the words past your lips is because his back is still facing you. But then he opens the door again, turns to meet your eyes, and cocks his head.

“Really?”

You’re not sure how to feel about the concern on his face. You guess it’s better than him being disgusted, or awkward, or uncomfortable. And it’s not an outright rejection. That realization gives you the push you need to explain yourself.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Now he looks concerned. Walking a few steps into the room, he stops by the edge of your bed and folds his arms across his chest. He’s studying every inch of you, reaching into the force to try and gauge the nature of your words. “What do you mean?”

He’s standing so close now, you can see the blue of his eyes and the wrinkle between his furrowed brows. It does nothing to calm your sizzling nerves. However, you’re concrete on your desires now. While you would have liked to confess your feelings for him in a more… romantic way, the intensity of your need for him in this very moment overshadows rational thought. Besides, it’s not like this is a declaration of love. That could always come later. For right now, you need his help, and you’re certain that you can trust him not to make fun of you or shame you for trying in if he declines.

“I can’t…” you take a deep breath, staring at your hands in your lap. “I can’t make myself feel good.”

Your voice is so quiet, embarrassed and ashamed, but he catches the yearning under it all. His face smooths, comforted by the fact that you’re not injured or dying in some way. Deep down, something sparks alive in his veins. 

That’s the issue? Well… it’s definitely something he can help you with.

“Hmm.” His face is thoughtful as he scans your position. His hand gestures vaguely down your body. “Do you want to show me what you’re doing?”

Your blood freezes at his request. For some reason, it didn’t cross your mind how asking for his help would require him to see you… naked. 

“If you’re too embarrassed, we can just--”

You cut off his words by throwing the blanket off. There, like ripping off a bandaid. His eyes drink in the exposed skin of your legs, and although they’re closed and he can’t be seeing much more than he’s already seen before, they darken. A small twitch of his fingers, and the door clicks shut behind him. 

He takes a seat on the side of the bed, next to your legs, and rests his metal hand on your knee. Your heart beats like a hummingbird's wings at the sudden proximity, and the nerves pile up again at the thought of what’s going to happen.

“Wait-- um… actually, can you come here?” 

You reach out to take his metal hand from your knee, and pull him up the bed so that he’s hovering over you. He’s still sitting, the upper half of his body twisted toward you, caging you in with a hand on either side of you. He’s smiling softly, and his eyes twinkle with something fond.

He doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re nervous. The rigidity in your muscles, the flightyness of your eyes, the hammer of your heart-- he can feel it all, and he wants nothing more than to quell your fears. So he lifts an arm to cup your face in his large hand, smoothing a thumb over your cheekbone in a silent request for you to look at him.

Once you muster up the courage to meet his eyes, his smile grows, and he says something that steals your breath.

“Can I kiss you?”

Oh, how long you’ve wanted him to say those words to you. Countless nights, you’d run them through your head, imagining all the scenarios in which it could happen. Certainly, this was not one of them, but you definitely aren’t going to complain.

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you give him a nod, and lean forward a fraction in invitation. Your veins sing with anticipation, warmth spreading from your cheeks to every small nook and cranny of your body as he angles your face up toward his. Your eyes flutter close, and he leans down, and--

Bliss.

His lips are warm against yours, soft, applying the gentlest of pressures. You always thought he’d be a good kisser-- he was experienced, and he’d hinted at some of his more scandalous escapades a couple times in passing conversation. You’d asked him before, how he could do that when Jedi aren’t allowed to form attachments, which resulted in him going into a full lecture on how non-attachment didn’t translate to abstinence being “The Jedi Way”, even if it was supported within the Order. Really, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything, until he fell on the defensive position that he was almost certain Obi-Wan had done stuff as well.

Which-- great. Now you realized you were less experienced than even two Jedi. 

These thoughts are snuffed out like candles, one by one, as Anakin kisses you. In fact, your whole mind goes blank, a wave washing over all of your worries away and dragging them out to sea. You’re drifting on that wave, drowning in the heady feel of him, the warm taste of him. His slow inhale reminds you to breathe as he moves his lips against yours languidly. It’s heaven, the way he’s yours for just this moment. He might not think anything of this kiss, but to you, it’s like your deepest fantasies are coming true. With each moment that passes where he tilts his head and closes his lips over yours, you can pretend that he is yours, completely and unconditionally.

Eventually he pulls back, eyes fluttering open, and you realize you’re still lost at sea.  

“Good?” his voice is low and raspy as his gaze bores into yours. You wonder if he knows how intense his eyes can be sometimes. 

“Yes.”

He presses another quick kiss to your lips, your heart spasming at the act, before he trails kisses down your jaw, tasting the skin of your neck. Your breath picks up again, hands finding his curls as you gasp at the feeling. His teeth skim over the junction of your neck and shoulder, and he presses a kiss to your throbbing pulse. He means for the kisses to be distracting, soothing, so that you’ll be more comfortable with him, and he thinks it’s working until a faint moan leaves your mouth.

So it’s really working.

Anakin’s eyes flick up to yours, and you can feel the smirk against your skin. Embarrassment crashes down on you again but Anakin repeats the motion, nipping at your skin and then smoothing his tongue over the mark, sucking gently to try to elicit another reaction. You gift him one against your will, and suddenly he’s got lava pouring into his veins.

You’re so lost in the feeling of his mouth on you that you don’t even realize his warm hand has travelled from your face, down the middle of your body, gripping onto the pliant flesh of your thigh and pulling you toward him. You let him, rolling your body into him to try and relieve that reappearing ache in your center. 

It’s the same feeling that had built up all day, and it’s returned with a vengeance. You can feel the wetness seep out, slicking your thighs up. Your clit throbs and your pussy clenches around nothing, begging for something to satisfy the ache. You rub your thighs together to help, but Anakin slides a hand to the inside of your thigh and coaxes your legs apart. Any embarrassment you felt before has been beat out by a yearning for his touch, the need to have his fingers on you, inside you--

“Show me how you’ve been doing it,” Anakin mumbles into your neck.

You open your eyes, pulled up from the haze of pleasure he’d submerged you in. Your hand only shakes slightly as you release his hair and bring it back to your skin. He pulls back a few inches to watch, the heat of his body so close to yours causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

His eyes hone in on your hand, following its descent to your warm center. You still can’t wrap your head around the fact that someone is seeing you like this, but now your veins sing with a satisfied realization that he’s the one seeing you like this. He’s the only one who ever has. And he seems to like what he’s seeing.

You don’t miss the way he inhales, the way his teeth capture a sliver of his bottom lip as your fingers finally reach your heat. You begin to do what you’ve always done-- rub your fingers back and forth over your nub, working that pleasure from it.

It feels good, different than what it felt like when you were alone. You’re sure his eyes on you, the proximity, his mere presence has something to do with that. You can still taste him on your lips and you close your eyes, licking them to relive the kiss. You focus on the warmth of his body, the dip of the bed where his arm is planted beside you, the weight of his other hand still holding your thigh open, the scent of his black leather and spice of his shampoo. It definitely feels better when he’s here, the knowledge of him watching adding to your excitement.

But still, you can only build yourself up to a certain point. The pleasure plateaus, and soon you begin to feel awkward at the fact that nothing is happening. It’s not enough to make you moan, or move, or show any reaction really. Your hand stills, and you look at him uncertainly.

Anakin blinks and brings his eyes back up. “Have you tried fingering yourself?”

You almost choke. You’re not sure why his blunt nature surprises you anymore. 

He’s looking at you curiously, completely serious, waiting for an answer. So you clear your throat and slide your finger down to your entrance, pushing in.

It goes in easier than before, and there’s no sting. But you don’t even have to move to know you’re literally going to get nothing out of it, and trying is useless.

“This is what I’m talking about,” you tell him. “It doesn’t feel like anything. And when I try two, it hurts. I think I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” he frowns, smoothing your hair away from your forehead and replacing it with a kiss. Your heart melts at the action that you’re sure is meant to be comforting, but only deepens your adoration of him. He sits up and you immediately miss him, although you understand he needs a better angle as he slides his hand from your thigh to the top of your pelvis. He hesitates, questioning. “Can I?”

You pull your finger out and push yourself up onto your forearms, nodding for him to go ahead. 

His touch is light as a feather as his fingertips make contact with your swollen nub. Your breath hitches in your chest, thighs immediately opening wider on their own accord to get him to increase the pressure. He watches your face as he fulfills your silent request, massaging your clit in slow, gentle circles. 

Fireworks are exploding behind your eyes, and you melt into a puddle on the bed. He’s barely even touching you, and somehow it already feels so much better than anything you’ve done to yourself. Quiet whimpers fall from your lips and the sounds make him need a steadying breath, reminding himself to go slow. Obviously, no one has ever touched you before, and he doesn’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

The sight of your head tilted back, teeth biting at your lips to quiet your sounds, fingers clutching at the bedsheets-- a very sudden, very real desire to absolutely ruin you slams into him. 

But no. That can come later.

He brings his metal hand up to your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip and pulling it from your teeth. “You don’t have to be quiet with me,” he tells you, the ministrations on your clit with his other hand never ceasing. Instead, he picks up the pace, increasing the pressure, drinking in the sight of your hips moving against his fingers.

You’re absolutely drenched, dripping down your thighs and puddling onto the bedsheets. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this wet before, or felt this good before, and the warmth you’ve always felt is transforming into a ball of heat in your stomach. You hone into the feeling, the heat pulsing with each pass of his fingers, each wet slide of him against you--

“You have to breathe, Y/n,” Anakin chuckles, slowing his touch. You gasp in a deep breath, whining at the loss of friction, but he appeases you by slipping his fingers from your clit to your entrance. He doesn’t push in-- instead he circles his finger around it, collecting your slick, reading your every response. 

“Please, can you…” you buck your hips up, but he doesn’t allow his finger to slide in until you finish your sentence. “Can you put it in?”

He can’t keep the tiny, darkly satisfied smile off his face. He’s always had fantasies of you like this, squirming beneath him and begging for his touch. He basks in the fulfilled wish of his, drinking in every second so he can remember it for later. Meanwhile, his finger massages your hole, dipping in with just the tip before pulling back out. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, once again surprised at your own reaction. Your head is far past the point of clouding with lust, and now you’re dizzy with pleasure and the need to just have him inside of you already. “Anakin, please.”

“Patience,” he answers teasingly, although he does mean it. You can’t rush these things. And… he does have to admit that he loves seeing you so desperate and messy for him. Your neediness has him strain against his own pants, but he pushes that aside. For now, another dip of his finger into your throbbing pussy has you arch off the bed, urging him deeper, and it’s heaven to witness.

He didn’t want to go all in just yet, but you’re gushing around his finger and taking it so well. So he lets you have it, sinking his finger all the way into you. You feel him go deeper and deeper, the never-ending length of his finger a stark contrast to your shorter ones. He’s reaching places you were never able to, and even the slide of him inside you elicits a deep, warm pleasure that spreads to the tips of your fingers.

He keeps his finger all the way inside for a moment, still as he feels your walls clench around him. Once he’s sure you’re all good, he begins pressing into you with shallow thrusts, thumb returning to your clit and rubbing in time with each push of his finger.

Curses spill from your lips, and Anakin can’t help himself. He leans down over you and captures them in his mouth, swallowing your cries of pleasure. The kiss is wet, dirty, and the muffled sounds of your moans combat the indecent slick and slide below. Soon, another finger is nudging at your opening, and you press yourself deeper into his lips in anticipation of that painful sting.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, his finger slides in a couple inches and he keeps both of them there, letting you adjust as his thumb rolls over your clit. You had never been able to use two fingers before, and your head goes fuzzy as he pushes them deeper. Your walls stretch around him pleasantly, accepting the welcome intrusion as he reaches deep inside you.

How is it fair that he can make you feel so much better than you can make yourself? It doesn’t seem right in the whole grand scheme of things, but you decide not to question it as his fingers suddenly curl inside you, searching. It feels odd, and he pulls back from your lips to concentrate for a second until-- there. Found it.

You almost knock your head into his as you shoot up, a startled cry leaving your lips as your vision whites with pleasure. Your fingers claw at his back, meeting the leather that still sits on his shoulders, and scrabbling over the smooth material for purchase. Anakin laughs at your reaction, easing you into a more comfortable position as he holds you against him with his metal arm behind your back.

You can’t find it in you to care that he’s laughing, not as long as he keeps rolling the pads of his fingers into you like this. His wrist curls, applying a harder pressure as he rubs against that spot, and your head falls back, hips pushing forward, the lewdest sounds you’ve ever heard leaving your mouth. 

“You like that,” he notes, proud smile ghosting over your lips. He kisses the corner of your mouth quick and sweet, then asks, “Is it better when I go slow or fast?”

“Both,” you gasp. “Either. All of it. Oh my--”

“Soft or hard?”

“Anakin--”

Your brain is unable to focus on much else other than the feel of his fingers coaxing that blissful heat from your center. He plays around with paces and pressures, but everything feels good, it feels great, it feels amazing, it feels euphoric. Before long, your legs are shaking and a weird feeling comes over you, and you’re crying out,

“What’s happening?”

Anakin pauses, his entire body stilling as he meets your eyes. You’re completely serious, that much he can tell by the vulnerability in your eyes. He frowns, unbelieving at this revelation.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

You whine and shift your hips into his hand, trying to get him to keep making you feel good. If this wasn’t your first time being with someone else, Anakin would have held your hip still and forced you to talk to him no matter how much you begged and pleaded. But, it was your first time with someone else, so he was deciding to be nice. He soothes your craving, resuming his movements but at a much slower pace. A pleased sigh from you fills the silence of him waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Um..” you swallow, hips meeting his hand with every thrust. “I don’t think so. No. Nothing’s ever felt… like… this…”

It’s like a sneeze, except much, much better. The way his fingers prod into you, slick with your arousal, the tips brushing and massaging against that spot that have you careening into his body. You would have toppled over on top of him if he wasn’t so strong and rooted to the bed. He holds your shivering body against his chest with his metal arm, lips marking their way around your chin and jaw as your head falls back in ecstasy. 

He’s immensely turned on, that much is obvious from the painful straining in his pants. But it’s easy to ignore, knowing now that you’ve never fallen off that brink of pleasure before. He’s curious about it, oddly saddened by the fact, and wants nothing more than to show you the absolute highs he could help you reach. So he focuses back in on rubbing your clit with his thumb, fucking you deeply on his fingers. He allows you to clutch at his back and bury your hands in his hair, moaning in abandon.

Anakin shares you pleasure as the ball in your stomach unleashes, a blissful warmth crashing over you and invading your every cell. For a moment, your body isn’t yours-- it convulses and clenches around Anakin’s fingers, your cries bounce off the walls, your eyes squeeze closed. You hope the hands twisted into his hair don’t hurt him because you physically can’t let go as you ride that pleasure-filled haze, the feeling in your limbs abandoning you to be replaced with something much stronger. 

For a while, the only sounds in the room are your gasps of air and the blood rushing through your ears. Anakin waits until your muscles relax, and then he slides his fingers out of you, smoothing his hand around your waist to join his other behind your back. He lays you down into the pillows again, burying his face in your neck as you struggle to get your legs to stop shaking.

“Y/n,” he mouths a line up your neck. “You there?”

“Mhm,” you gulp, the shock of that intense, pleasurable feeling just beginning to fade.

He pressed his deep chuckle into the spot right under your ear. “Good. I thought I lost you for a moment.”

If you were in your right state of mind, you would have laughed at his teasing. Now, all you can do is cup his face lazily in your boneless hands, pulling his face up so that you can look at him. His cheeks are flushed the slightest pink, eyes dark and sparkling, lips so red and full and inviting…

You kiss him, and he’s yours for a moment longer. 

If only it could always be like this. If only this could be a daily experience, and afterwards you could take care of him, and you could feel that wonderful euphoria with him at the same time. If only he wouldn’t have to pull away soon, untangle himself from your still-shaking limbs, brush off what just happened, and be on his way. If only he could be yours forever.

All of this, you try to tell him through the kiss. Your lips are hot, sliding over with a wanton need. He feels your yearning, and he can tell it’s a different kind than earlier. You move to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away.

“I know what you’re thinking,” his low voice murmurs, and now he doesn’t look so playful. In fact, he looks very serious, and the rumble of his words causes your stomach to drop. “You should know, Y/n, I want you too.”

The whole room could be on fire and burning and falling to ash around you, but you wouldn’t notice. Everything pales in comparison to the flames that erupt in your heart at the sound of his words. 

“You do?”

He purses his lips, running his eyes up and down your face. You’re nervous, and hopeful, and so, so scared. And also… still shivering. Most likely due to the cold, at this point. And he’s sure the drunken affects of your orgasm are still holding sway over your mind.

“This is a conversation I think would be much better held over some ruby bliels,” he decides, and begins to unwind himself from you. You let him, that hopeful spark still searing through your veins. Before getting off the bed, he presses a kiss into your hand and then smooths over it with his thumb.

You want to say something cute or witty, but the only thing your dumb brain can come up with is, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiles fondly, moving toward the door. “I’ll meet you out there. Feel free to remain pantsless.”

This has you rolling your eyes, laughing lightly as you fall back against the pillows. Don’t tempt me.

The prospect of a future with Anakin is at the forefront of your brain, blood pumping thick as molasses as you struggle to convince yourself this is reality. He shuts the door behind him as you leave, and you roll onto your stomach to scream into the pillow. 

This was a dream come true.

hey all! my asks / requests are still open, i have a couple that i need to write out still but my main priority is 19 years later currently. i’m starting to write out chapter 3 now, so i’m excited for that. remember to join my taglist as well:)

Dating Billy Hargrove HC's

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

show: stranger things

will be writing a separate headcanon about Billy being angry.

warnings: cursing, abusive parents, dysfunctional relationships, toxic lovers, romanticism of toxic character. borderline NSFW because sex is a part of relationships (and this is Billy we're talking about, so...) so please proceed maturely.

🔞 none of the following content is appropriate for minors 🔞

• strap in - let's fucking GOOOOOOOOO

• this boy is something else, okay? he's like nobody you've ever met, anyone you've ever dated - he's unlike anybody in this small town that you've grown up in your whole life.

• he's a Cali boy - he even smells like trouble!

• oh, but Billy Boy isn't all that meets the eye. he's complex, he's damaged, he's confused, he's harboring a lot of anger and resentment.

• his mom's been gone and out of the picture for so long, one might worry he's taken on a harmful view towards women. however, that's not the case at all.

• you meet on his first day of school - i know, i know, how cliche, right? only it was completely unavoidable. you were a star student, all right? your grades weren't stellar but they weren't bad; you tested decently well; maybe you played a sport and had a club or two you attended.

• it makes you the perfect student for the guidance counselor to select "randomly" to help show the new kid around.

• he's not very warm when you first meet. he's got this look in his eye and they way he totally shmoozed Miss McKenna (the principals own middle aged assistant) was enough to make your mind throw up multiple red flags.

• so you show him around. answer a few questions but when he tries to get personal, maybe asking what you were doing after school, you insist the tour's over and he could find his way from there.

• you don't give him a second glance as you leave him alone in the hallway and Billy's lips are pulling in a smirk.

• he was unlike anyone you knew - but you were the exact breath of fresh air Billy needed.

• so, he pines. poor baby doesn't know what to do when a girl isn't melting on the spot when he looks at her. in fact, he's not seen you or spoken to you since you showed him around.

• drives him a little crazy but he's fine. because eventually, he finds you one day, after school, looking distraught. it's obvious you want to be alone based on your location and Billy's never been the comforting type, all right?

• doesn't stop him from approaching you and silently taking the seat on the pavement beside you. he doesn't speak. just lights a cigarette and hands it to you before lighting one for himself. the silence prolongs until you break it.

• "what're you doing here?" you sniffled, trying to hide the emotion you felt.

• and Billy would shrug, "just hangin'. looked like you could've used some company."

• you're vulnerable, so, you admit you're waiting for your father and when you mention you don't have the best relationship, he goes rigid with understanding and empathy.

• an emotion he's NOT accustomed to.

• he learns your father and mother divorced years ago and he's been in and out of your life since. however, he called that morning and begged to pick you up from school so you could have some 'father-daughter time'... yet here you were, tears in your eyes, waiting on a man who wouldn't show.

• Billy offers you a ride home and finds he enjoys your banter so much, he offers to drive you home the next day.

• you're a little suspicious but he doesn't make a single move. he just drives you home after school, both of you lost in some ridiculous conversation that you're not even sure how it started.

• it then turns into him picking you up before school, too. just for a little extra time together.

• oh, and then, he was coming to your house on the weekends.

• he didn't mind you fussing in his hair if it meant he could light a joint and relax without the fear of his father.

• in fact, Billy becomes so dependent on you and the escape your presence provides him that he keeps a small duffel bag full of clothes in your closet. for emergencies, you know?

• and there are a few emergencies, sure. you're pretty used to him crashing a night there. you'll wash the dirty clothes he leaves and put them in the duffel after for next time.

• again, he's a Cali boy so he smokes. and he'll be really critical of the weed in Hawkins 'cause he's used to 'good shit'.

• but considering the small town, he takes what he can get.

• you have a lot of open, honest, vulnerable conversations when smoking because both of your filters will go down.

• he doesn't realize it until later but those are the moments he's opening himself up to you most in. while scary, he feels something akin to relief and gratitude to have someone to share parts of himself with.

• your friendship starts off innocent; just two people hanging out, cracking jokes, complaining about their home life. but it changes around December.

• you become close to Max - it's almost impossible not to. you're fond of Billy and would do what you could to help take him away from the pain of his father, but Max didn't really have anyone.

• until the party adopted her, but outside that, she got used to seeing you around a lot. and no, you never minded when she'd ask for your help on something; be it boys, school, friends, or her skateboard.

• you and Max bond by her teaching you to skate. and Billy won't admit it, but his heart felt ten times lighter the day he looked out the window and saw your hands clasped in Max's, rolling on her board, both of you laughing so hysterically, it made you fall to the grass.

• the laughter didn't end for the rest of the day, and Max wondered if this was what a sister felt like.

• in December, you accept to help her get ready for the Snowball Dance! precious babies!

• you bring a whole suitcase full of clothes, a tote bag of shoes, make-up, and hair accessories. and of course, a few magazines for references.

• when Billy opens the door, he smirks as he takes in your baggage, "movin' in, princess?"

• he reaches to take the tote bag off your shoulder so you wouldn't carry the weight.

• but Max is there, nudging him out of the way, "she's here for me."

• when Billy's puppy-eyes turn to you, you can't help but sigh lightly and hand Max the wheeling suitcase. she dashes back for her room and you stand in front of Billy, hands flattened against his waist as you tease lightly, "you're gonna have to share me, you know."

• his eyes would roll lightly, "says who?"

• "behave," you chuckled, moving to help Susan get Max ready. and by the end of the night, you're waving the redhead off with Billy's arm slung around your shoulders. "see what happens when you're patient?"

• Susan and Neil dropped Max off before going on their own date, meaning you and Billy were home alone.

• you might've felt nervous but he never pressured you. instead, he seemed a little more tender as the holidays drew on and you had a sneaking suspicion he was mourning the life, and family, he knew before.

• so, what do you do? you're pulling ingredients out in his kitchen and insisting he helps you make a batch of cookies. the radio is flicked on and Christmas carols ring around the room.

• he's not good at baking but he laughs more in those two hours than he had in a full week. his eyes get soft and he might even act on the way his heart feels vulnerable, pulling you in for a slow dance around the kitchen.

• snow MIGHT even start to fall outside, marking this as your very own Snowball Dance.

• Billy kisses you that night, your lips tasting like the batter your finger had taken a dollop of. it's a searing kind of kiss, the one that feels like a long time coming - finally arriving and making your body explode with pinpricks of hormones.

• needless to say, you two were joined at the hip from that day on. Neil wasn't the biggest fan of you because you were just so fucking nice - it confused him what you saw in Billy.

• but you saw all the best parts of him, despite Neil's conditioning to showcase the worst.

• so, you're dating now, right? beautiful. doesn't mean it's perfect, okay? Billy's still a little bent outta shape that he requires time and understanding.

• he's doing his best, okay?

• he curses, like, a lot. at you, near you, in reference to you. but he’ll never resort to cheap ploys and will always comes to your defense if someone’s out of line.

• big fan of the whole ‘total dickhead to everyone except so-and-so’. cause that’s you and Billy.

• but when Billy's your boyfriend, oh, lord! get ready for the PDA 'cause he's chomping at the bit to touch you every moment.

• it shocks you to learn physical touch is his love language, what with the way Neil abuses him; you'd assumed touch might trigger him.

• but Billy explains to you that your touch could never hurt him and he relishes in the warmth your hands provide. instead of the fear Neil instilled, your touch gave comfort. warmth. hope, and peace.

• so, you run with that information. walking around the mall? your hands are conjoined or an arm is around someone's waist. at school? your hand might stray to run through his curls in the cafeteria, earning his attention. grocery store? boy's got his hands around your waist, or somewhere near your neck, while you push the cart lazily up and down the aisles.

• yes, yes, yes, Billy comes to you when anything goes wrong. he's never been like that, he doesn't understand why now, all of a sudden when he's overwhelmed, he's sneaking out and running to your house. but you're a safety net for him, and you wipe his tears; how can he not feel safe with you?

• your mom don't like him 'cause she's heard all the rumors. she even once belonged to Karen Wheeler's bookclub but left it because all the middle aged ladies were talking about her daughter's boyfriend hyper-sexually.

• she had a hard time looking Billy in the eye after that.

• it makes your mom a bit uneasy. but she respects your wishes and your want to be in a relationship. so, life carries on with a few back handed or passive aggressive comments.

• you don't like the smell of cigarettes so he won't smoke around you. you know it's a hard habit to kick and sometimes he'll ask if it's okay, but he'll definitely refrain from smoking cigarettes around you.

• he might even start to feel a little insecure and leaves an extra shirt in the trunk of his car to change into so that your nose isn't pressed right against the smoke-filled fabric.

• Billy's a big ass baby, man. look, he's a total sucker for not doing shit; throwing a movie on and literally laying on top of you. one of your hands would run through his hair as the other caressed the skin of his neck and cheek. one leg laid flat along his as the other bends to lean against his hip and keep him cocooned in your love.

• he'll often fall asleep like that. big ass baby. God, i love him.

• loves when you play with his hair. you're the only one he allows - no, i'm serious! others have tried, others really want to, but Billy never let them. until you and then it felt like your hands belonged in his silky tresses.

• don't get me started on Billy being protective. cause that's his whole thing, okay?

• shit, got me started. look, so, Billy gives a WHOLE new meaning to being protective. he's defending you against anyone - even his own father - because nobody talks shit about you.

• he's been handed a few beatings by Neil for raising his voice in defense of you.

• but he says he'd do it again and again. nobody got to say a single word he didn't like about you. girls in the locker rooms? yeah, all that gossip stopped after Billy confronted the cheer captain before Chrissy.

• few boys at a party looking at you like you're a piece of meat? oh, look! a heavy arm is slinging around your shoulders to turn you; a hand gripping you cheeks to pull you in for a bruising kiss. due to the intensity, you know he's staking his claim; sliding your tongue into his mouth as distraction.

• does the trick because he's groaning when you pull back. his hand's on your ass, telling anyone watching who you belonged to.

• he'll approach those dudes later and growl, "i catch you lookin' at my girl again, it'll be the last time you have eyes."

• is it aggressive? yes, but so is Billy, and so is his determination to protect you. he doesn't always know the best way to do that but he's figuring it out as he goes.

• you often have talks about his protectiveness but you understand he's very unsure how to go about all of this, so, you both take it in stride. if he catches your glare when he's acting up, he'll begrudgingly back down but that's okay. why? 'cause you're taking his hand and pulling you both away from whatever situation set him off.

• and he's a sweetheart when he wants to be. baby boy can't stand to see your tears, so, if you start to cry, every defense he has is dropping.

• he's been the reason for your tears a few times and he's gutted by the idea. so, you see the progress he makes in avoiding previous issues to avoid your tears.

• communication's difficult for Billy but he tries, only for you. he knows you can't read his mind and he needs to verbalize his needs; maybe doing it a little roughly but he was doing it at least. and practice makes perfect, so, it's fine.

• because your relationship is a partnership that you both have equal stake in. your job isn't to judge, but to encourage.

• but you also get him to open up communication with Max and Susan - since Neil is a lost cause.

• you've never seen Neil physically strike Billy but you've heard the yelling and you've heard the impact of a few slaps from your place in Billy's bedroom and theirs from the kitchen.

• on those days, Billy's darting back into his room and closing the door before leaning against it. his cheek's red and swelling slightly, making you stand in worry. but your movement shakes him from his thoughts and he's sniffling, "get your things, sweet girl, we're heading out."

• "where?"

• "anywhere that isn't here. i can't have you here when he's riled up like that, we gotta go."

• always protecting you.

• ayo, y’all know that medallion he wears? well guess what? he placed it around your neck and claims it’ll protect you when he can’t. he wants to see it on you. my fucking HEART.

• Billy comes to you for any academic help. he doesn't give a single fuck about school, didn't even bring a pencil his first week. but he doesn't want to flunk out and repeat so he puts in just enough effort.

• sometimes, it's not enough and he's coming to you to help proofread his essay to ensure he got at least a 75% to weigh his grade to passing.

• he gets an 88% and fucks you into the mattress.

• you're a lot more inclined to help him with homework after that.

• he's a private person. so, even if you're left in his room while he showers or goes to handle whatever Neil's yelling about, you're not able to see many personal things. everything's hidden and you're not about to snoop through his shit.

• eventually, after a particularly hard day, he's holding you in his arms, on his bed, and then reaching for a wooden box under it. inside are pictures and memorabilia, explaining he hid it so Neil couldn't weaponize it against him.

• and in front of your eyes, he takes a polaroid photo of you two and places it in the box for safekeeping. "because i treasure you, my sweet girl," he'd whisper. "don't want anyone taking this from me."

• heart melts.

• Billy dominates you. like clockwork.

but y'all ever see Game of Thrones and Khaleesi rides Khal Drogo for the first time? he comes in ready to dominate her and she's like nah, l got this and rides him to oblivion?

• think THAT but with Billy.

• he'll want you to be a plaything one day, but the next, he's mewling like a bitch in heat while you ride him. he'll even let your hand wrap around his throat when you're on top.

• he won't admit he likes it but you can tell.

• Billy likes telling you how pretty you are. you get all flustered and he adores it, finding it funny that he'll be balls deep in you, telling you all kinds of profane things he wanted to do to your pussy and you'll just eat it up - but the moment he tells you you're beautiful, you're all embarrassed like a school girl.

• spurs the nickname "pretty girl". he'll call you other pet names, too, but he'll always resort back to "pretty" or "sweet girl".

• big sucker for the troupe, 'never calling you your government name unless angry' cause that's Billy. like 100%. he won't call you your name unless angry (at you) or trying to be serious. meaning it's always a pet name rolling off his tongue.

• HA! good luck trying to leave Billy without a kiss goodbye. it does NOT matter if you literally run up to him because you forgot your chapstick in his jacket pocket and have to get back to practice - he's pulling you in for a kiss before you leave. going to work? where's his kiss, huh? oh, you thought you were getting out of this car without a kiss? that's illegal. the toll tax is now three kisses.

• the boy melts when you kiss him and your hand will hold his cheek. so simple but so intimate for him.

• and when cuddling, he's a big fan of feeling your nails against his skin and scalp. he even likes it when you trace over his face with a fingertip, leaning in to peck his lips quickly before huddling back under his chin.

• Billy often wonders what he did to deserve you - often comes up with jackshit.

• he says he loves you first but it starts as a fight. probably over something stupid, like Tommy H. hitting on you in calculus, but it'll snowball out of control because he's scared of what he's feeling, and over the very idea that someone could take you from him.

• when Billy's scared, fight or flight kicks in and his natural instinct is to fight then flee. so, he'll pick at scabs and old wounds to make them bleed so you won't try to stop him when he leaves.

• but you've been around long enough to know how he ticks.

• the conversation will be instigated by you, begging him to tell you the fucking truth, and he's shouting, "because I'm in love with you, for fuck's sake!"

• mmmmh, yeah, you get fucked on the couch that night because you can't make it to his room. thankfully, nobody was home because y'all are like frantic rabbits going at it. and when you're on top that night, you tell him, "i love you too," against his lips; that fucking hand holding against his cheek.

• he goes a little feral and will wrap his arms around your waist to hold you in position before jackhammering his hips up into yours. growling, sweating, just desperate to be as physically close to one another as possible.

• he wants to hear you say you love him all the time now. Billy needs a lot of reassurance and you've plenty to give. he'll make it a point to remind you he loves you even when in a fight - the very idea of you thinking he didn't anymore enough to make him want to tug his hair out.

• baby boy feels like his mother didn't know / hear how much he loved her, and that's why she easily left him behind. so, he'll be damned if he lets you think the same thing.

• don't try the whole words of affirmation shit because it'll literally always end in a fight. some abusive conditioning can't be changed.

• doesn't mean you let Billy forget his value. and oh, fuck, is he grateful for you. he's insecure under all that bravado and telling him you see his value is almost as good as hearing you loved him.

• in public, he's usually whispering in your ear some shitty joke. arm around your neck and shoulders. just happy to be near each other and never once giving a fuck about PDA.

• you never touch a door, you hear me? never. Billy opens all doors, even if he's pissed off.

speaking of -

• nobody angers him like you, because you're so close.

• but also, nobody can bring Billy back to reality like you can.

• he stops beating people up because he worries about your opinion of him; and he never wants to give you reason to be afraid of him.

• but when angry, he's loud. he throws shit. he'll curse and when overwhelmed, he'll cry and break down in earnest confusion.

• his anger takes over and makes his heart feel heavy; but after the initial storm cloud, he's vulnerable and stripped bare of his defenses as you're cuddling him close.

• Billy tells you he doesn't like to be so angry and he's trying to find other outlets.

• and you assure him that it's okay to feel overwhelmed and like he's gonna blow his top off. it's okay to have emotion, and it's okay to not know what to do with it.

• fuck and that smile? man, he's got you like putty in his hands when he flashes that blinding smile.

• it's cool though 'cause he's totally whipped and if you pout, he's going to get whatever you asked him for. baby boy's a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, making it your secret weapon. you don't use it often but when you do, Billy swears his heart beat stops and speeds up all at the same time.

• he really likes kissing you. if you're not in the mood to fuck, you're tired, stressed, whatever, he's fine with it as long as you're game for a little make out session. honestly? you're never not game.

• Billy's a big cuddler but never in front of people, only ever in private.

• but he's very proud to be your man so he looks for any reason to touch you. it's a sense of both protectiveness and possession; daring anyone to come and relinquish his claim so he might have reason to beat the shit outta one of these punks looking at his girl.

• or so his brain tells him. he's much more even tempered with you but every now and then, old habits flare up, and it's up to you to safely defuse the time bomb that is Billy's anger.

• Billy often doesn't feel worthy of you, so, he'll start fights. you're quick to shut it down.

• and when it's good, it's really good.

• boy will bring you flowers because it makes him feel like he's doing at least something right. and the way your lips will spread in a beaming smile has him making a mental note to pick up another bouquet sometime soon.

• picnics. i know, he doesn't seem the type, you thought so as well. but it's solitary for you both; peaceful and away from the crazy shit going on in town. besides, when he's with you, he's not looking at anyone or wondering about their opinion - his focus is 110% on you.

• which means he can read your body language like he's fluent. nervous ticks? he knows 'em. gotta pee? he can tell. feeling some pent up sexual frustration? he's not sure how it's possible but he knows what's going on, and he's taking action.

• he knows your birthday and anniversary too, so, he's always prepared. never before had he cared about ANY of that - but then you happened, and it all changed.

• ugh - changing Billy's attitude around. he's not so much of a dickhead once he starts dating you. everyone at school notices it.

• he's stupid sweet and gentle with you. he'll stand at your locker and curl your hair behind both ears as you talk; completely focused on all that you are.

• rejects other girls (harshly) because he's enamored with you. and he doesn't like people hitting on him when they know he's with you, it feels like blatant disrespect.

• forehead kisses like a motherfucker.

• Billy telling you you're the calm he needs in life.

• he's adores you, kinda thing. you can do no wrong, kinda thing.

• he pulls you into his lap a lot. again, PDA ain't no worry to him. just no cuddling... but hanging on his lap with an arm around his shoulders is A-OK.

• in fact, he takes it a few steps farther and sees where the most public place you two can have sex is.

• so far, the movie theater was it but that was complicated and not a whole lot of fun considering you were freaked out the whole time.

• but you made it up to him by taking him up the water tower and going three rounds.

• sex is a staple in any relationship, okay? but Billy's never pressured you and always lets you drive the situation. he honestly likes spending time with you, so, if you don't fuck, he doesn't care.

• only your boyfriend is stupid hot and you look for reasons to jump his bones. mmh...

• and when he's feeling randy and wanting to dominate - LORD! the way that boy makes you feel should be borderline illegal. his touches like hot rocks against your skin; kisses from pillowy lips that tasted suspiciously like your chapstick; tongue sweeping over your neck and making your mind go a little fuzzy.

• you go with him on his 18th to get his skull tattoo. you make a joke about getting a matching one but he's really turned on by the idea. you consider it for a few months.

• maybe you do it, maybe not. but you do get a tattoo and Billy's almost humping the air when he sees it.

• nope, he's not letting you paint his nails but he'll give you his opinion on colors. in fact, he'll catch a little bit of an attitude when he notices the once cherry red color of your fingernails has turned into a midnight blue, asking, "your other boyfriend like this color?"

• "baby, i can pick out my nail color."

• "just usually ask me my opinion," he'd huffed.

• you ask him before you change it now.

• matching his and her sunglasses.

• listen to me: nobody touches a fucking thing in Billy's Camaro. okay? but for you... yeah, okay, he's actually okay with you changing the radio station. and adjusting the temperature in the car. and sure, he'd probably kick anyone else out if they tried this, but he actually smiles when your feet escape your shoes to curl under you in his passenger seat.

• you're the only person he trusts to drive his car, too. doesn't happen often but twice now, he'd gotten shitfaced at a party and it was your responsibility to get you both home.

• clingy drunk Billy. might even fuck around and pout at you. Definitely just wants you to lay with him, touch him, be close to him.

• he's not used to being loved so it's a learning experience for you both. but when his head is nestled between your shoulder and neck, breathing in your scent while a hand lazily traces along your belly, there's nothing he'd rather do than this life with you.

• you're the calm, he's the fury. you're the eye, he's the storm. you're the soft and smooth, he's the rough and jagged. but i'll be damned if this relationship isn't exactly what he needs.

• you're unyielding in your love and affection, and he's silently thanking God as you lay in his arms. his eyes might even well with unshed tears as he thinks over in his head every reason he doesn't deserve you, but every reason he'll selfishly keep you.

• oof, but Billy operates on a short fuse so when he's feeling touchy, you have to tread carefully. due to how close you guys are, you're usually the first line of defense he takes his irritation out on and that results in you ignoring him for days.

• but Billy's full of remorse; knowing Neil made him feel like shit and it wasn't fair to in turn take it out on you, just so you'd feel the same. so, he's going to Max for advice.

• i know, holy shit, right? it's just, he's not used to fucking shit up and then wanting to fix it - he usually just runs. but he's tired of running, so, he asks Max to help.

• and Max loves you and thinks Billy's a different person since meeting and dating you, so, she agrees. and the Hargrove / Mayfield siblings are concocting some plan.

• turns out, he doesn't need a big plan - he just needs honesty. he'll get you your favorite flowers and crawl up the oak tree in your yard, balance himself, and knock on your window.

• '80s parents and guardians are oblivious, so, nobody hears him sneaking in and out almost every other night. call that child safety.

• but it's been 3 WHOLE days since he's seen or kissed you, and poor baby is going a little crazy. he'll present the flowers and crawl into your bed, the pair of you dedicating that moment to talk about what happened and how to avoid it in the future.

• and Billy might let a tear or two fall, asking, "why do you forgive me so easily?"

• "because i can see you're genuinely upset by this, baby," you'd sighed, pushing a few curls from his forehead. "but that doesn't mean this can continue. you've gotta do better, baby, please."

• "for you? anything."

• "do it for the both of us, hmm?"

• it's not all sunshine and rainbows when loving a complicated man, and i can't even say it'll be worth the inevitable uphill battle. but it's definitely a love for the ages and you wouldn't want anyone else.

• only guy who's ever made you squirt and he's very proud of that. it's now a personal mission of his to see how many orgasms he can coax from you in a single night. current record: seven. yeah, that boy wants to be soaked, wow. absolutely mesmerized by you when he gets this kind of physical reaction.

• he's always proud of you, too.

• if you're a cheerleader, he's picking you up in his arms and telling you how flawless your routine was (even if you know there was a few missteps).

• if you're an athlete, best believe he's at every single game just to cheer you on. he might even keep record of your stats.

• you passed that stupid hard final in your AP History class? you're literally rushing down the hall, spying Billy, and when he sees you coming with a grin and that fucking packet clutched in your hands, he's stooping low to catch you in his embrace and spin you around, "aha! my smart girl! i knew you'd do fine. you were worrying for nothin', huh? that's my girl."

• and when he calls you 'his girl', your stomach's in a flurry of butterflies no matter how often you hear it.

• you have a deal that you can't call him this in public but he doesn't all the way hate when you call him 'baby boy'.

hmmm, maybe i'm projecting...

• Billy talks about taking you to Cali with him. and you go visit his grandparents during spring break.

• when i say they adore you, i'm talking they fucking adore you to the point they're asking 18 year-old Billy when he's gonna pop the question.

• makes him choke a little out of surprise but recovers, "soon. you'll be the first to know when it happens."

• you can't help but joke, "wouldn't i know first?"

• "nah, i'd tell them before asking you," Billy smirked, nodding at his grandparents across the table.

• he's just so fucking different when in a good, loving, healthy relationship. he's toxic as fuck - we know - but he can recognize his wrongdoings and attempt to rectify them.

• he's constantly offering you compliments about anything.

• "God, you look adorable in that skirt - c'mere."

• "damn, baby, i didn't know Playboy was lookin' for new models."

• "you forreal wrote this essay? baby, this is really well done."

• "hey, superstar."

• mmh, breakfast dates are his favorite. breakfast foods are his favorite, so, you've gotten in a rhythm to cook for him on the weekend mornings.

• oof, wait! the dates! he's broke as shit, cool. but he can make anything an interesting time by just being there.

• so, you go to a lot of parties together but usually duck out with a handle of vodka to head for the quarry overlook. he likes to hang out there, laid back on the hood of his car, looking up into the vast nothingness of the universe while contemplating life.

• Billy's a deeper than we give him credit for. again, it's all hidden under a mask of indifference and dickheadedness, but it's there!

• nature hikes 'cause ain't sit else to do in this small town!

• he'll take you to concerts out of town; diners; long drives; fairs in the summer; he might've even arranged with his neighbor to let you guys in their backyard to hang out with the litter of puppies their dog just had.

• honestly, anything he can think of to make you smile, Billy's finding some way to make it happen.

• trust and believe you can handle his anger and outbursts. you don't shut down, you stand strong while rationally, logically trying to navigate his feelings. when he crosses a line, you'll end the conversation and walk away because he needs time to cool off.

• you're usually very forgiving but not always with Billy - who needs to learn there's often consequences to actions and words.

• hard lesson to learn but he's an avid student.

• Billy offering massages. his hands are Godly and you never refuse.

• might sound really out of character, but he's a fucking professional at handling your period. know how he keeps a duffel at your place? he's got one for you, too, at his. but it's period supplies so you never got a moment worrying about it.

• he'll pour some rice in a sock, tie it up, heat it for a minute or so, and lay it against your lower stomach before crawling into bed with you. sometimes, cramps might make you curl up a little in pain, but Billy's there to get you pain killers, water, snacks if you want them, but especially just to hold you.

• and he'll tell you he read some article in a magazine about how sex is supposed to help with period pains and cramps. what a horndog, you know? don't tell him, but it helps.

• Billy's an ass man. i wish i could explain it but if you get it, you get it. if you don't, that's okay. 'cause he's been known to be titty guy but it's your ass, man. Billy Boy loses rational thought when his hands are all over you.

• he gets you new earrings because you often accessorize your outfits with them. it was a fun yet subtle way to show off originality and Billy finds himself looking through a few jewelry kiosks at the mall.

• you cannot convince me otherwise that Billy doesn't get you a necklace with his name on it. i won't hear it 'cause he's definitely the type to, okay?

• his leather jacket is your favorite because it's oversized and has a musky undertone to the usual smell of his cologne. he knows this and will drop it over your shoulders without needing to ask if you're cold.

• but hey - you're a big fan of wearing your man's clothes, okay?

• he'll come pick you up for school and see you walking out in one of his shirts and have to swallow from the way his mouth salivates.

• finding empty classrooms during lunch or study hall to fuck in.

• Billy doesn't understand 'aftercare' until you. he'll stand from the bed to light a cigarette and tug his boxers on, peaking over at you and noting the way your legs trembled. he'd realize and grab his shirt to clean you up before laying right back beside you.

• "did i hurt you?"

• "no, i'm okay," you'd assure; the feeling of his bare skin on yours something close to Heaven on earth. and the way his finger tips would drag over your bare body, unsure of the patterns he's drawing; but sinking further into his embrace? yeah - God sent.

• while you don't often fight, if you piss him off, he's a loose canon. you remind yourself he's feeling defensive and like he has to lash out, trying not to take things to heart. but he's still Billy, still a dickhead, and he's still going for the jugular.

• he won't look at you for days. won't pick you up, drop you home, give your flowers, kiss you, won't even fucking acknowledge you.

• fuck, it hurts.

• but he's the one then showing up one morning outside your house as you get your shoes on to catch the bus.

• knowing he was over his initial irritation, you'll cautiously approach the car as he gets out.

• "here to insult me a bit more?"

• and his hand is running through his hair, eyes sad and downcast, ringed with red to indicate unrest and emotional turmoil.

• "i'm so fucking sorry, baby, i really am."

• here's the thing - Billy doesn't know how to apologize. he doesn't do it often to anyone, so, the words never really formed naturally on his tongue.

• but with you, he's on the verge of panicked tears as he's word vomiting to you how sorry he is. he'd never stutters over his apology to you because you're the only person he considers worthy of his genuine remorse.

• and you definitely punish him by making him hang out with you, Max, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley and the other party members.

• no, you don't get him to play D&D with them - mostly because Max warned them not even to mention it.

• but he's a good sport and will let the kids get in his car, the others in Steve's, and might take them to the pool despite being off for the day. only because he knows he has to make it up to you.

• look, he's got some flaws, okay? but Billy definitely tries his best when it involves something he's genuinely interested in. you're the first person in X number of years to warrant this kind of feeling in him, so, he's adamant on keeping this love.

• i can fix him, your honor! give me a chance!

hey y’all i’ve got a question, how do i add a read more cut on the tumblr app? is that possible? it annoys me that all of my stories are just huge lengthy posts and i really want to add that cut line but i’m not sure how. can anyone help?